TO THE RIGHT RESPECTABLE MY Ancient and well-beloved PATRON THE PUBLIC.
WHY don't you dedicate to
Mr. PIT?
Because, Sir, I would rather set forth my own Talents than the Virtues and Praises of the best Man upon Earth. I love to say Things that no One else ever thought of, extraordinary, quite out of the common way. I scorn to echo the Voice of every Fellow that goes the Road. Whether the Vessel of the Common-Wealth shall sink or swim; what is it to me? I am but a Passenger.
But, then, there is a Manner in doing Things you know.
No, Sir, it is no Business of mine. Mr.
Pit
is the Patron of my Patron; let my Patron then dedicate to him, and welcome, dedicate Statutes, Temples, Monuments as lasting as the Benefits conferred! It is nothing to me; neither will I say a Syllable more about the matter.
May it please your Respectableness,
THOUGH the Dedication is the shortest Part of a Book, and held by all Readers to be the vilest and most contemptible; yet the Writer and his Patron, the Dedicator and the Dedicatee, have a different way of thinking; the Latter, on account of the Incense that it breathes, and the Former, on account of the Profit that it brings, look upon it as the most important Part of the Performance.
Alas! how little Consideration is left, for the Race of Writers, among the Race of Readers, especially on this Chapter of Dedications.
Your Respectableness, perhaps, hath not duely perpended the Travail, the Toil, the marvellous Drudgery, the Muck that Dedicators are obliged to pass through, and the Fences of Truth over which they must break, in order to cull, select, and sublimate an Offering fit to lay upon the Altar of Adulation.
Through what a World of Weeds do they range to gather their little Nosegays; from what a Profusion of Offences do they extract their Perfumes; and, how many Nights do they watch, to concentre and realize a single Mouthful of Moonshine for the Gratification of their Partrons.
The Trades also, incumbent upon them, are manifold, such as of Painting, Patching, and Plastering; of Embroidering, Shaping, and Shaving; and of Tyring, Trimming, and Tayloring; in order to smooth and garnish the Man
whom it delighteth them to honour,
and to furnish him with a full Suit of Praises.
But your Respectableness, I humbly hope, would not wish me to be at all this Trouble; for indeed Trouble is a Thing that I do not affect. There is, also, a kind of Delicacy requisite in tickling the Ribs of Vanity. I am at best but a downright sort of a Fellow. And, should I, aukardly presume to dash your Merits, full, into the Chops of your Modesty, I might deserve but ill at the Hands of your Respectableness.
My Grandmother, Peace be with her! I remember one thing among the many good Advices, which she gave and I forgot.
Never disgrace yourself,
quoth she,
in order to do Honour to any One breathing.
Think not, therefore, my most respectable Patron, that I will either debase myself by cajoling you to your Face, or do Violence, to Truth, by any kind of Panegyric when your Back shall be turned.
That I have received many Favours from your Greatness, and have a competent Sense of Gratitude for the same, is most certain. It is also true that all my Studies and Labours have been applied for your Service, and that I wish no other Death than that of laying down my Life for your Sake. Yet, with all my Love for your Person, and Endeavours for your Prosperity, I cannot find about me the smallest Scantling of Veneration for your Virtues.
You have, however, the Satisfaction to be quite easy upon this Score, and no way to be mortified at any Sentiments to your Disadvantage. Your Fund of good Humour on such Occasions is inexhaustible; and you have often joined with me in reproving and ridiculing your own Vices and Follies, which at all times you take more pleasure to rally, than I apprehend you will at any time take Pains to amend.
I remember that in my Youth I was a great Builder of Castles, and, having your Interest always at Heart, and seldom out of my Head, I employed my Time in forming a thousand romantic and airy Schemes for your Advantage.
I once proposed to build your Happiness on Religion, on Christian Piety, and a deep Sense of Duty; but, having in vain sought a Foundation whereon I might lay the first Stone, the Superstructure vanished like the Clouds of last
September.
I then attempted to plan the Establishment, of your Liberty and Renown, upon the ancient and approved Principles of the SPARTAN POVERTY. As this had been barely a heathen Virtue; as it had raised and supported that great and glorious People, through many succeeding Centuries, in an uninterrupted Enjoyment of Freedom, Power, and Prosperity; and, as nothing appeared to be wanting to the Accomplishment of this Scheme, save a few simple Articles, such as Moderation, Content, Self-Denial, and so forth, I made no doubt of your embracing the Terms with Joy.
On paying my first Visit, your Respectableness was just come from a
Corporation-Cant,
where I was told you had set your OWN MOTHER up to Sale; but your Dignity was so drunk at the Cost of the Bidders, that I chose to defer Matters to a more sober Opportunity.
On my next Address, I understood that the Equipage of your Respectableness was in waiting; for it is not with you now as in the Days of Queen
Bess.
You were hastening to see the
Italian
Puppet-show. As I advanced to pay my Respects, I was dazzled by the Ornaments with which you had glorified your Person, All, the Product of foreign Looms and of foreign Labours; your Linen of the
Netherlands,
your Point of
Spain,
your Ruffles of
Dresden,
with a full Suit in the Cut of
France,
and trimmed like That of the three Brothers in a Tale of a Tub. In short you were so satisfied, so wrapt, so full of your Finery, you could, then, attend to nothing, save the Contemplation of Your fair Self.
I still had Patience. I watched my Time. I attended You, late on a Sunday Evening, when I thought you at Leisure from the Fervour of your Devotions. But, how was I struck of a heap, when your Footman informed me that some Noblemen and Ladies, of the most fashionable Distinction, had engaged you for the Afternoon, at the GAMING TABLE.
Soon after, I was apprised that, what with spending your Time and Money, in running to Raree-Shows; in playing four Corners and a Fool; in Drinking, Dressing, Drabbing; and in Gormandizing, and Gambling; the Finances of your Respectableness were considerably sunk. It also, came to my Ear that you were hugely fond of COCK-MATCHES, though you kept them as far as possible from your own Dunghill; That it was your Custom to Bet on one Side, and then to Bet on the other Side, and to lose your Money on all Sides; and that, by these and the former Means, your Respectableness was dipped, so up to the Ears, in Debt, it was thought your yearly Income would, in time, barely answer the Interest of what you owed.
It was now confidently affirmed, may it please your Respectableness, that You yourself were apprehensive of being reduced to sudden Indigence. And I eagerly seized this Occasion of waiting upon You, in order, as I trusted, to reconcile You to your Fate, and, possibly, to delight You with the Prospect of your approaching Poverty. For I sighed when I reflected on your intemperate and unbounded Thirst after
Riches,
That
Death to national Nature,
which had proved the
mortal Poison
of
Greece
and of
Rome,
and of all People who tasted it, from the Beginning of the World to this present good Day.
Being shown to your Apartment, I perceived your Greatness seated in a moody kind of Attitude. But, having formerly had the Honour of being known to You, I took a Chair without Ceremony; and, chatting with You awhile about the Weather, the News of the Day, and such like ponderous Matters, as sage Ministers and sage Politicians are wont to do. I began to introduce and open the Business.
Pray, Mister, said your Dignity (somewhat short) have You any particular Business with me, at this Time? I am come may it please You, said I, to propose a speedy and effectual Method for the Supply of all your Wants. At these agreeable Tidings, all the Ears, your Respectableness had, were pricked up and opened to Audience.   Go on, my Good Friend, dispatch, in Heaven's Name!
May it please You, added I, it was the Custom of all the Seers and Sages, of ancient Days, to introduce Truth and Wisdom under the Covering of Fable; and this Covering was as a Nut-Shell, if your Teeth were able to crack it, you had the Kernel for your Pains. Permit me then, at least to imitate their Manner; for, though the Matter should happen to drop by the Way, the first Traveller who takes it up may be bettered thereby.
Once upon a time, for so says my Story, a Housholder, with his Family, was cast on a certain Island, where, through a Process of Years, they propagated till they became a little Nation. The Soil was exceeding fertile, but there was neither River nor Spring in all the Land. Nature, however, had provided for this Defect, by a Kind of Fruit; that perfectly allayed the Thirst; It was bitter to the Taste, but left an agreeable Flavour in the Mouth, and gave Health, Spirits, and Vigour to the whole Constitution; and it was called by a Name which, in our Language signifies as nearly as I can render it THE FRUIT OF ABSTINENCE.
There was, also, other Fruits, of a Species wholly the Reverse of the former; for the Flavour of these was extremely delicious; but then they enflamed the Thirst, enervated the Frame, and were called by a Name that signified the FRUIT OF INDULGENCE.
As, almost, all People made this latter Fruit a Part of their daily Food; the national Thirst, in time, became so great, that the Liturgy, of their Church, was altogether composed of Prayers for Rain. O
Jupiter,
some Water, a little Water, dear Mister
Jupiter,
Water, water, water, we pray for nothing but Water! sink us, plunge us, drown us, overwhelm us with Water!
On the Decline of every Sun, several Families spread out the Fleeces of their Flocks, as also their Sheets, and Blankets, for the Receiving and Retaining of the nightly Dew. Others furnished themselves with small Alembics for distilling the Urine of their Household. Some took a Twelvemonth's Voyage to bring back as much Liquid as they might subsist on for a few Weeks. And the Geniuses of the Nation employed themselves in various Projects, such as the chemical Extraction of Moisture from Biscuit and old Fiddles; as also the hanging Nets of a peculiar Texture, on Poles of due Elevation, for catching the Clouds.
Your Respectableness has my Tale.   Can make nothing of it, say You ?    Suppose the
Thirst,
of this People, an Emblem of their
Avarice,
and
Wealth
to be represented by
Water,
in the Fable.    
In short, may it please your Dignity, I have brought You (here it is) a Refinement on the Institutions of the great
Lycurgus.
Could I, like the Legislator of
Lacedaemon,
prevail upon you barely to abridge your Desires, You would find yourself wholly a Stranger to Want. You would thereby acquire the Wealth of Greatness, Goodness, Gloriousness; that Peace, that Solidity of sublunary Enjoyment, which can only be found in a voluntary POVERTY.
Scarce had I pronounced the last fatal Word, when your Respectableness started up in a Passion. You asked me if I had not seen the Levee of Duns at your Gate, and the Catchpoles that lurked for You at every Corner. You consigned me, with a very good Will, to the Devil; and desired that, the next time I presumed to turn State-Quack, I should not prescribe Drink to a drowning Man.
As I retired, under the greatest Dejection of Spirits.   Ho! you cried, honest Friend! Mr. what do they call you? come back! You, who scatter your Money as fast as your Words; as profuse of your Purse as you are of your Opinions; You who always run a Mile before your Rents, and live upon the Harvest of the next Year's Sickle; are not You also a
poor Devil,
One of the
Diogenical Gentlemen,
as very an
Emperor of the Tub
as myself?
Preach up Poverty, with a Pox! first get wherewithal to pay your own Debts. The
ready Runners!
my Boy, the
passable Pictures!
the
royal Pages!
the
Sparklers!
the
Portable!
the
Potable!
Ay marry, this would do, this would fortify your Argument, this would mould me to your Form, and persuade me to your Faith. It is this, my little Lad, that would shut too the Door on all manner of Temptations, and kick the Corruptions, you have so often complained of, into the Kennel. Come, cast me the Nativity of this
bright Son of Phoebus,
draw me a Scheme for raising this
Egyptian
from the Deep; and You shall be my
Darling,
my
Bardling,
my
hourly Oracle,
my
Apollo of Delphos,
and what not.
Was your Respectableness, said I, ever told your Fortune? perhaps it might bear some Resemblance to my own. I was a Boy, when the cunning Man, peering earnestly into my Palm, uttered a Sentence, which I shall remember the longest Day I have to live. You will always, said he, be getting a Power of Money, and, take my Word, you will never be worth a Groat.
Indeed, could I have prevailed upon your Respectableness to be contented with Poverty, I was in Hopes you would have enriched your Monitor for his Pains. But, in truth, I'm a very Ass at this Business of getting Money either for You or myself; and as for the keeping it, when I have got it, I have, long since, given up all thoughts of the Matter. I will, however, do my best to add to the Glories, to the Virtues, as I may say, of your Respectableness, in a Manner more acceptable than my present Plan has proved.
I am your Dignity's most devoted, and wish you a mighty good Evening.
HAVING thereafter consigned my late Scheme to Bakers and Barbers, and to all the vilest Applications of waste Paper. I sat down to study and provide a Remedy for that feverish Kind of Consumption, under which your Respectableness apparently laboured during our late Confabulation.
I was sensible, at the same time, that your
Distemper
was common to many other Countries, and that it was no where held to be dangerous, forasmuch as it only consisted of
two Articles,
the
Sensuality of the Body,
and the
Corruption of the Mind.
I also knew that, in former Ages, a great Number of
Publics
had been affected with the very Malady that now possessed your
Respectableness,
and yet had lived merrily under it to their dying Day.
I wished, however, to keep that Day at some Distance from your Greatness; and, with long and intense Labour, and at the Cost of many a Candle, during my nightly Lucubrations; I compounded a Medicine of approved and infallible Efficacy, consisting, for the Nonce, of a quantum sufficit of the TEMPERANCE and PATRIOTISM of the primitive
Romans.
I knew that the Cure would follow, but how to prevail upon your Respectableness, to swallow the Prescription, was a small matter of Difficulty that yet remained. For, it is a Misfortune peculiar to Those who are bit by Love, Avarice, Ambition, Pride, and such Passions, that they detest the Thoughts of a Restorative, and are so enamoured of their Distemper they would rather see the Devil than Doctor
Apollo
himself at their Door.
I, again, had the Honour of being admitted to an Audience. I called up and exhausted all the Powers of Oratory on that capital Occasion. I demonstrated, to your Respectableness, that the whole Weight and Elevation of the
Roman
State rested, simply, on the two Pillars of TEMPERANCE and PATRIOTISM, on which it rose, increased, and stood supported through many Ages; till, those Pillars being gradually sapped, the mighty Structure, with its said Foundation, decayed, grew ruinous, and fell confounded together. That Temperance is necessary to the Strength of a Man, as Patriotism is necessary to the Strength of a People. That each
Roman,
thus nerved and powerful apart, was yet strengthened, a hundred thousand fold, by an invisible Chord which run from Man to Man and united All, as One, in the LOVE OF COUNTRY. That hence sprung the
Helicon
of their abundant Inspiration to Toil, Industry, Frugality, Valour, Conquest, and Glory. They were swallowed, like so many Drops, in this Ocean of Patriotism. They were lost to every Care and Sensation of SELF; and were only found where they laboured, fought, bled, or expired for their COUNTRY!
While, warmed and somewhat raised by the Elevation of my Subject, I thus reasoned on National-Power, on human-Excellence, on Virtue, on Temperance, on Patriotism, and Glory! I shall never forget the kind Concern which your Respectableness expressed for me, in the evident Alarm and Compassion of your Countenance, as for a Person whose Fit you feared was approaching.
Being, both of us, more composed, your Greatness was pleased to demand whether this Romance was wholly of my own Invention, or, if I had lately been fishing the Well, where Truth was formerly drowned, for an
Ens Rationis
of some speculating Philosopher? Where, you cried in the name of Wonder, have you been able to gather together such an old fashioned Bundlement of Scientific Balderdash? You shall bring me to the Practice, exactly, at the Period that the Hogs shall be brought to feed along with the Herrings; or at the time of the Appearance of the Comet with the three Tails; or on the Week of the four Fridays, so long looked for by Astrologians.    Here! exclaimed your Respectableness, who waits? All you, my Printers, Editors, and other Porters who attend at the Gate of the Public! should this Fellow come, any more, with these his Preachments of Piety, and Poverty, and Patriotism, and Stuff, I command Ye to shut my Doors directly in his Face.
May it please your Respectableness, I am but a very little Man, and of a very lowly Temper, and yet I could not but be piqued at the Severity of this Treatment. I was, as a trodden Worm, and turned upon your Greatness with a Resentment, that, possibly, did not become me.
May your Dignity, I replied, continue to be blessed with Writers duely levelled to the Taste of the Reader, with the Politicks of Court Hirelings, the Poetry of Laureats, the Divinity of a H  y; with Bawdry from the Fleet, with Fragments from the Kennel of Grubstreet, with Strumpet Biography with W  upon Grace, with Treatises on   , and episcopal Essays on Spirit.
I trust that My Patron, in Recompence for a long Life spent in his Service, will pardon me the dropping of one Observation,  Nay don't look disgusted,  it is no matter of great Offence, it is nothing more than this, that the Nose of your Respectableness hath ever been a ready Handle for the leading of a FOOL, and a FOOL shall accordingly attend You on my next Visit.
PREFACE.
I Hate Prefaces. I never read them, and why should I write them? They stand like Pales about a Park, I always overleap 'em, if I
there is any thing, within, worth
. But, what can I do? I am likely to lead a fine Life with this Performance, when People begin to quarrel with me, upon reading the first Word, of the first Page, of my Works.
This Friend, and that Friend, and the other Friend asks me, and here sits Another, who is mighty curious to know, why I entitle my Hero the FOOL OF QUALITY.
Pray, was it not more decent to impute Folly to one Man, than to Mankind, if I found myself under the Necessity of doing the One or the Other?
Perhaps I call him a Fool, in Complaisance to a World that will, certainly, honour him with the same Title, when they find his Wisdom of a Size not suited to their Own --Why, pray, what is Wisdom? --Tell me, first, what is Folly. I will, then, tell you what is Wisdom, if I find any Smattering of it in your Definition.
I wonder, was there ever an Age of Wisdom, or a Land of Wisdom? --Look about You. The World will answer for Itself. --Does not every Age and Nation grow wiser and wiser? And have not all Fathers, from the Flood downward, been accounted, no better than Fools, by their Posterity? --I wish I had not been born for some Centuries to come. What a Prodigy of Wisdom should I then be, in comparison of what I am, at this Day.
Indeed, I should be glad to be wise, if I thought I could get any thing by It --Right, that is all the Use that the World makes of It; it is the very End, Purpose, Goal, and Business of all the Wisdom upon Earth --If a Man has length enough of Sense to outreach all about him, by a Yard and a Half; He is, by a Yard and Half, wiser than all his Neighbours.
But, was not
Solomon
then a Fool to neglect Riches, which he might have had with a Wish: and to ask for Wisdom, whose only Use is the obtaining of Riches? Was not this wishing to mend a roundabout Road, when a Quarter of an Hour would have carried him, by a short Cut, to the End of his Journey? --I fancy, my dear Friend, it would be no great Matter of additional Burden to take the Folly of
Solomon
upon your own Shoulders.
For, in case he had taken the Riches, how the pox should he keep them, while any neighbouring Power was wiser than himself?
Paris
was not five Years younger than
Solomon,
when he, also, might have chosen either Riches or Wisdom, and yet preferred a pretty Wench to the One and to the Other. I am not so young as
Paris,
by five times five Years, and would, therefore, prefer the One or the Other to the Wench --You then allow that
Paris
was a Blockhead in the present Case --Sir, I allow any Man to be so, in every Case, where he happens to differ in Opinion from myself--Why pray, sage Sir, have You got all the Wisdom of the World to yourself, or what Quantity thereof, think you, may there be upon Earth? --Less, by five Scruples, than any Man in judiciary Robes and a full bottomed Wig, conceives to have fallen to his own Share. --But Folly you take to be multiplied and various --Of two Sorts, quoth an eminent Author, That which belongs to the Writer, and That which belongs to the Reader of these Works.
Sir, this is wild Discourse, and very wide from the Purpose. Let me tell you the World was never so wise as now. It is filled with Men of deep Erudition, and Science --True, my Monitor; but are they a jot the wiser for all their Knowledge?
At the rate that you talk, in the Times of ancient Ignorance, there might have been a competent Modicum of wise Folk in the World --possible --And, by the same Rule, in these our enlightened Days of Connoissieurship and Erudition, nearly, all our Literati may turn out Fools --more than probable --These are Riddles --that might be solved --Explain 'em, I beseech you --Not at present. I will tell you a Story and pray listen. It is worth the hearing.
Fifty and five Pilgrims met, one Evening, at a great Inn, that led to more Roads than there are Points in the Compass. They supped merrily together, in a large Hall; and found, upon enquiry, that they were, all, bound to
the Castle of final Repose,
appointed for the Reception of the Sons of Science. When the Cloth was removed; Gentlemen, quoth the Pilgrim who first entered, I rejoice to be joined, by so much good Company, on these my honourable Travels; and, I am still better pleased to have it in my Power to conduct every Man of ye, the shortest and surest way, to your Journey's End. Here, Gentlemen, here is my Map of infallible Directions, the most accurate Extract, that ever was taken, of all Inquiries, Observations, and Informations for the Nonce. Pardon me, Brother, said the Pilgrim who sat next, your Map must be erroneous by, at least, five Degrees; by five, did I say? by seven, as I hope to get to my Journey's end. Look here at my Map, and believe your own Eyes. I'll be damned, cried a third Pilgrim, (peering over the Maps of his Neighbours, and taking out his own Parchment) I'll be damned if the Geographers, who designed the One or the Other, were any better than Adventurers; They never reached the Place of Destination I'll be sworn. Gentlemen, said a Fourth, with wonderful good Temper, I do not swear; but I have, critically, remarked all the Charts produced. There's a blind Beggar, in our Town, who is led by his Dog, and, if he does not arrive, at the Place we are bound to, with better Speed, and greater Certainty, than any of you Three; I give myself, do ye see, and all my Goods to the Devil, save a small Perpetuity, in Remainder, to my Son. That may be, exclaimed a Fifth, but, look ye here, my Friends, here are the Quotations, here are the Authorities. Authorities! quoth a Sixth, a Fiddlestick for a Hobby! are they unquestionable, unassailable, like these in my Hand? Thus, every Man's Chart, throughout the Fifty and Five, was, like the Hand of the Son of
Hagar,
against the Chart of every Man. Each insisted on being accompanied, in his own Way, as a Matter of mere Charity to all the Rest. They set out, the next Morning, on as many different Roads as there were Persons at Table; and, yet, no One of them ever arrived at the Place proposed, if any Dependence may be had on those customary Posts, whom the World, from Age to Age, has paid for Intelligence.
I don't clearly apprehend the Application of your Story, --If that is not your Fault, it must be my Own. It is at least a Dozen of the Twelve Labours to beat any thing into the Head of some People. --I will give you the Chance of another Tale.
A certain Prince sent an Invitation, to two distant Personages, to come to his Court. He, further, sent such Directions as could not be mistaken by any One, living, who was willing to find the Way. And he, further, sent a written Promise, signed, and sealed by the Seal royal, of the most happy Accommodations, upon their Arrival.
The One, of the Parties invited, was a purblind Man who, barely, saw sufficient to discern his Road. He, accordingly, was fearful of Error. He cautiously, held on his Way; and, thereby, reached his Journey's End, the Place of happy Destination to which he was appointed.
The other was a Man who had all his Eyes about him; but, he was a Genius, had vast Invention, and thought it a Disparagement to tread in any Path that had been beaten by others. He was for contriving short Cuts, and opening new Discoveries. He made Excursions on all Hands. He grew impatient of the Accommodations, appointed and reserved for him, at the Court of the Prince. He expected them on his Journey, and sought for them at every Turn. He found them not. He, therefore, travelled and strayed this way, and that way, in Search of them. This led him, still, further and further from his Road. Till, maimed by Accident, and stiff with Age, he grew, equally, ashamed and unable to return.
--As plain as my Nose --You can the readier follow --But, talk to me, no more, about the World and its Wisdom. I detest Wisdom, I avoid it, I would not be bit by it. It is the
Tarantula
that spins a Web, whereby Innocence is entangled. It is a Politician who opens a Gulf for the Swallowing up of a People. It is a Lawyer who diggs a Grave for the Burial of Equity. It is the Science, of
Hocus Pocus,
that bids Happiness come and pass, by the Virtue of Cups and Balls. It is a Syllabub of fasting-Spittle for the Fattening of the
Virtuosi.
It is a Robe with a pompous Train. A Wig spread to the Rump. A Beard lengthened to the Girdle. It is a Ditch of Puddle, with a hoary Mantle, that will not be moved to Merriment by any Wind that blows. It is an Ass in a Sumpter-Cloth. An Owl, solemnly perched, amidst solemn Ruins, on a solemn Night.
Descend to me, sweet Folly! if thou hast not, as I suspect, been my constant Companion. Be, thou, my Sister, my Playfellow, thou Kitten of the solemn Cats of State and Learning. But, no. Thou never wert the Offspring of such stupid Progenitors. Thou art ever joyous, ever young, although coeval, in Paradise with our first Parents, ere, (a Pox upon their Ambition) they wished for the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Pride pretends to spurn thee; Science affects to look down upon thee; but they sigh for thee when no one sees, they have frowned thee away, and when they seek they shall not find thee. Come, Folly! for even thy Petulance and little Wickednesses become delightful, when thou incitest the yeanling Kids and cooing Turtles to Combat. Thou art not captious, thou art not testy, they laugh at thee, and thou laughest with them for Company. The Hours dance before thee, the Graces smile in thy Train. Thou art a Companion for Conquerors, a Play-fellow for crowned Heads. But, alas! thou art not respected, as heretofore; when the Monarch of all Asia sent his Ambassadors to wait upon thee, they came, with a mighty Train, even from
Persepolis
unto
Laconia,
to see thee riding upon Switches, with
Agesilaus
and his little Son.
By --my pleasant Friend, thou almost persuadest me to be a Fool, during the Remainder of my Pilgrimage through the Wisdom of this World. But, is there no such thing as true Wisdom in Nature? --Sir, I have written a whole Chapter upon the Subject; but it lies a great way on, toward the End of my Book, and you have much Folly to wade through, before you come at it. --Give me a Peep, I beseech you. --No Sir, you shall not anticipate. Do you Want to be in Port, without making any Voyage? --If I must win my way to Wisdom, Inch by Inch, let me set out directly. --Here then, begin. And pray, let me have your Remarks, unpremeditated, as you proceed. I will answer you, as Whim or judgement shall happen to dictate.
CHAP. I.
R ICHARD the Grandfather of our Hero, was ennobled by
James
the First. He married a lovely Girl of the ancient Family of the
Goodalls
in the County of
Surry,
and, at Seven Years Distance had two Sons,
Richard
and
Henry;
but dying early, in the Reign of
Charles
the First, he bequeathed Â£12000 to his youngest, and near Â£20000 annual Income to his eldest Son; not in any personal Preference to his Brother, but as one who was to support the Name and Honours of the Family. He appointed his Brother in Law Executor and Guardian, who, educating the Children agreeable to their different Fortunes and Prospects in Life, in about Seven Years after the Death of their Father, sent
Richard
with a Tutor to take the Tour of Europe, and bound
Henry
Apprentice to a considerable
London
Merchant.
During the Travels of the One and the Apprenticeship of the Other, the Troubles happened, and
Cromwell
assumed the Regency; before the Fortune of the
Morelands
could be forfeited or endangered, by siding with the Crown or the Commonwealth.
Richard
returned to
England
a short time before the Restoration; and being too gay and too dissolute for the Plodding and Hypocricy of
Cromwell
and his Fanaticks, he withdrew to the Mansion House of his Forefathers.
On his Landing he had inquired for his Brother
Henry;
but hearing that he was lately married, and wholely absorbed in Matters of Merchandise, as he had the utmost Contempt for all Cits and Traders, he took no further Notice of him.
In the Country, he amused himself with his Bottle, Hounds, Hawks, Race Horses,
&c.
and in debauching the Persons of the neighbouring Wenches, and corrupting the Morals of the Neighbouring Squires. But, on the Restoration of his Majesty, of pleasurable Memory, he hastened to Court, where he rolled away and shone as in his native Sphere. He was always of the Party of the King,
Rochester, &c.
where Virtue was laughed out of Countenance, and where all Manner of Dissoluteness became amiable and recommendable by the Bursts of Merriment and Zest of Wit. But toward the latter End of this droll Reign, Earl
Richard,
being advanced in Age, and being still older in Constitution than Years, began to think of providing an Heir to his Estate; and, as he had taken vast Pains to impair it, he married a Citizen's Daughter who wanted a Title, and with her got a Portion of one hundred thousand Pounds, which was equally wanting on his Part.
With his Lady he, again, retreated to the Country, where, in less than a Year, she made him the exulting Father of a fine Boy; whom he called
Richard.
Richard,
speedily, became the sole Centre of all his Mother's Solicitudes and Affections. And though, within the Space of the two succeeding Years, she was delivered of a second Boy, yet, as his infant Aspect was less promising and more unformed than his Brother's, she sent him forth to be nursed by the robust Wife of a neighbouring Farmer, where, for the Space of upward of four Years, he was honoured with no Token from Father or Mother, save some casual Messages, to know from time to time if the Child was in Health.
This Boy was called
Henry,
after his Uncle by the Father's Side. The Earl had lately sent, to
London,
to make Enquiry after his Brother, but could learn no Manner of Tidings concerning him.
Mean while, the Education of the two Children was extremely contrasted.
Richard,
who was already entitled my little Lord, was not permitted to breathe the Rudeness of the Wind. On his lightest Indisposition the whole House was in Alarms; his Passions had full Scope in all their infant Irregularities; his Genius was put into a Hot Bed, by the Warmth of Applauses given to every Flight of his opening Fancy; and the whole Family conspired, from the Highest to the Lowest, to the Ruin of promising Talents and a benevolent Heart.
Young
Harry,
on the other Hand, had every Member as well as Feature exposed to all Weathers, would run about, Mother-naked for near an Hour, in a frosty Morning; was neither physicked into Delicacy, nor flattered into Pride; scarce felt the Convenience, and, much less understood the Vanity of Clothing; and was daily occupied, in playing and wrestling with the Pigs and two mungril Spaniels on the Dunghil; or in kissing, scratching, or boxing with the Children of the Village.
When
Harry
had passed his fifth Year, his Father, on a festival Day, humbly proposed to send for him to his Nurses, in order to observe how the Boy might turn out, and my Lady, in a Fit of good Humour, assented. Nurse, accordingly, decked him out in his holiday Petticoats, and walked with our Hero to the great House, as they called it.
A brilliant Concourse of the neighbouring Gentry were met in a vast Parlour, that appeared to be executed after the Model of
Westminster Hall.
There was Sir
Christopher Cloudy,
who knew much but said nothing; with his very conversable Lady, who scarce knew by halves, but spoke by wholesale. In the same Range was Sir
Standish Stately,
who in all Companies held the first Place, in his own Esteem. Next to him sat Lady
Childish;
it was at least thirty Years since those Follies might have become her which appeared so very ridiculous at the Age of fifty-five. By her Side were the two
Stiltons,
a blind Man would swear that the One was a Clown, and the Other a Gentleman, by the Tones of their Voices. Next to these were two Pair of very ill mated Turtles; Mr.
Gentle,
who sacrificed his fine Sense and affluent Fortune to the Vanity and bad Temper of a silly and turbulent Wife; and Squire
Sulky,
a brutal Fool, who tyranized over the most sensible and most amiable of her Sex.
On the opposite Side was Lord
Prim,
who evidently laboured hard to be easy in Conversation; and next to him was Lord
Flippant
who spoke Nonsense with great facility. By his Side sat the fair but dejected Miss
Willow,
she had lately discovered what a Misfortune it was to be born to Wit, Beauty, and Affluence, the three capital Qualifications that lead the Sex to Calamity. Next to her was Colonel
Jolly,
with a Heart ever tuned to Merriment and Lungs to Laughter; had he known how to time his Fits, the Laugh might have grown catching. Below him was seated Mrs.
Mirror
a Widow Lady, industriously accomplished in the Faults of People of Fashion. And below her sat the beloved and respected Mr.
Meekly,
who always sought to hide behind the Merits of the Company. Next to him was Major
Settle,
no one spoke with more Importance on things of no Signification. And beside him sat Miss
Lovely,
who looked Sentiment, and, while she was silent, inspired others with Sense and Virtue.
These were the principal Characters. The Rest could not be said to be of any Character at all. The Cloth had been lately removed, and a Host of Glasses and Decanters glowed on the Table, when in comes young
Harry
escorted by his Nurse.
All the Eyes of the Company were, instantly, drawn upon him, but he advanced, with a vacant and unobserving Physiognomy, and thought no higher of the Assembly than as of so many Peasants at a Country Wake.
Dicky,
my Dear, says my Lady, go and welcome your Brother, whereat
Dick
went up, took
Harry
by the Hand, and kissed him with much Affection.
Harry
thereupon having eyed his Brother, I don't know You, said he, bluntly, but, at the same time held up his little Mouth to kiss him again.
Dick,
says my Lady, put your laced Hat upon
Harry,
till we see how it becomes him, which he immediately did; but
Harry,
feeling an unusual Encumbrance on his Head, took off the Hat, and having for some time looked contemptuously at it, he cast it from him with a sudden and agile Jerk, as he used to cast flat Stones, in order to make Ducks and Drakes in the Mill Pond. The Hat took the Glasses and Decanters in full Carrier, smash go the Glasses, abroad pours the Wine on circling Laces, Dresden Aprons, silvered Silks, and rich Brocades; female Screams fill the Parlour, the Rout is equal to the Uproar, and it was long ere most of them could be composed to their Places.
In the mean while,
Harry
took no kind of Interest in their Outcries or Distresses, but spying a large
Spanish
Pointer that, just then came from under the Table, he sprung at him like Lightning, seized him by the Collar, and vaulted on his Back with inconceivable Agility. The Dog, wholly disconcerted by so unaccustomed a Burden, capered and plunged about in a violent Manner, but
Harry
was a better Horseman than to be so easily dismounted; whereon the Dog grew outrageous, and rushing into a Group of little Misses and Masters, the Children of the Visitants, he overthrew them like Ninepins; thence proceeding, with equal Rapidity, between the Legs of Mrs.
Dowdy,
a very fat and elderly Lady, she instantly fell backward with a violent Shriek, and, in her Fall, unfortunately overthrew
Frank
the Foxhunter, who overthrew
Andrew
the Angler, who overthrew
Bob
the Beau, who closed the Catastrophe.
Our Hero, mean Time, was happily dismounted by the intercepting Petticoats, and fairly laid, without Damage, in the fallen Lady's Lap. From thence he arose at his Leisure, and strolled about the Room, with as unconcerned an Aspect as if nothing had happened amiss, and as though' he had neither Act nor Part in this frightful Discomfiture.
When Matters were once more, in some Measure set to Rights, my Heavens! exclaimed my Lady, I shall faint, the Boy is positively an Idiot, he has no Apprehension Conception of Persons or Things. Come hither, Sirrah, she cried with an angry Tone; but, instead of complying,
Harry
cast on her a Look of Resentment and sidled over toward his Nurse.
Dicky,
my Dear, said my Lady, go and pretend to beat his Foster Mother, that we may try if the Child has any kind of Ideas. Here, her Ladyship, by ill Fortune, was as much unadvised, as her Favourite was unhappy in the Execution of her Orders, for while
Dick
struck at the Nurse with a counterfeited Passion,
Harry,
instantly, reddened, and gave his Brother such a sudden. Pash in the Face, that his Nose and Mouth gushed out with Blood.
Dick
set up the Roar, my Lady screamed out, and rising and running at
Harry
with all imaginable Fury, she caught him up, as a
Falcon
would truss a
Robin;
turned over his Petticoats, and chastised him with all the Violence of which her Delicacy was capable. Our Hero, however, neither uttered Cry or Tear, but, being set down, he turned round on the Company an Eye of Indignation, then cried, come away, Mammy, and issued from the Assembly.
Harry
had scarce made his Exit when his Mother exclaimed after him, Ay, ay, take him away Nurse, take him away, the little Devil, and never let me see his Face more.
I shall not detain my Readers with a tedious Detail of the many and differing Opinions that the remaining Company expressed with regard to our Hero; let it suffice to observe that they generally agreed that, though the Boy did not appear to be endowed by Nature, with a single Faculty of the
Animal rationale,
he might, nevertheless, be rendered capable in Time, of many Places of very honourable and lucrative Employment.
Mr.
Meekly,
alone, though so gentle and complying at other Times, now presumed to dissent from the Sense of the Company. I rather hold, said he, that this Infant is the Promise of the greatest Philosopher and Hero that our Age is likely to produce. By refusing his Respect to those superficial Distinctions, which Fashion has inadequately substituted as Expressions of human Greatness, he approves himself the Philosopher; and, by the Quickness of his Feelings for injured Innocence, and his Boldness in defending those to whom his Heart is attached, he approves himself at once the Hero and the Man.
Harry
had now remained six Months more with his Nurse, engaged in his customary Exercises and Occupations. He was already, by his Courage, his Strength, and Action, become tremendous to all the little Boys of the Village, they had all Things to fear from his sudden Resentment, but, nothing from his Memory or Recollection of a Wrong, and this also was imputed to his native Stupidity. The two mungril Dogs were his inseparable Play-fellows, they were all tied together in the strictest Bonds of Friendship, and caressed each other with the most warm and unfeigned Affection.
On a Summer's Day as he strolled forth with these his faithful Attendants, and rambled into a Park whose Gate he saw open, he perceived in a little Copse that bordered on a Fishpond, a Stranger seated on a Bench of Turf.
Harry
drew near with his usual Intrepidity, till he observed that the Man had a reverend Beard that spread over his Breast, that he held something in his Hand on which he gazed with a fixed Attention, and that the Tears rolled down his Cheeks, without ceasing, and in Silence, except the half suppressed Sobs that often broke from his Bosom.
Harry
stood, awhile, immoveable, his little Heart was affected, he approached the old Man with a gentle Reverence, and looking up in his Face, and seating himself by his Side, the Muscles of his Infant Aspect began to relax, and he wept and sob'd as fast as his Companion.
Friend.
  Pray, who is this ancient Stranger? I have a great Curiosity to know. Is he necessary to your Story, is he to have any future Connection with the Child? How came he by the long Beard? Beards were not the Fashion in those Days. There must be some extraordinary Reason for it, if there is any Reason at all. Is his Story long, do you begin upon it directly? It is a great fault in Authors to hold their Readers in Suspence; our Curiosity grows languid; twenty to one it is vanished, before you begin to give it any Kind of Satisfaction. Who in the World is he, what Business has he here?
Author.
  Sir, you see he is a Stranger; I have mentioned him as such. If he chooses to continue so, for some Time longer, I know of no right that I have to discover him. Perhaps I am the only Person breathing whom he has entrusted with the Secret of his Affairs; I am upon Honour not to betray him; you must pardon me  pray proceeed.
CHAP. II.
THE old Gentleman turned and gazed at the Child, as on some sudden Apparition. His Tears stopped. He returned the Picture, which he held, into his Bosom. And, lifting up his Eyes, Great Power, he cried, is this the One, of all the World, who has any Feelings for me? Is it this Babe, this Suckling, whom thou hast sent, to be a Partaker in my Griess, and the Sharer of my Afflictions? Welcome, then, my little Friend, said he, tenderly turning and caressing the Child, I will live the longer for thy Sake, and endeavour to repay the Tears thou hast shed in my Behalf.
The Language of true Love is understood by all Creatures, and was that of which
Harry
had, almost, the only Perception. He returned his Friend's Caresses with unaffected Ardour, and no Two could be more highly gratified in the Endearments of each Other.
What is your Name, my Dear? said the old Gentleman.
Harry Clinton,
Sir.
Harry Clinton!
repeated the Old Man, and started. And pray who is your Father? the Child, then looking tenderly at him, replied; I'll have you for a Father, if you please, Sir. The Stranger, then caught him up in his Arms, and passionately exclaimed, You shall, you shall, my Darling, for the tenderest of Fathers, never to be torn asunder, till Death shall part us.
Then asking him where he lived, and
Harry
pointing to the Town before them, they both got up and went towards it. Our Hero was now again all Glee, all Action; he sprung from and to his Friend, and played and gambol'd about him, like a young Spaniel in a Morning, just loosed from his Chain, and admitted to accompany his Master to the Field. As his two Dogs frisked about him, he would now mount upon One, then bound upon the other, and each pranced and paraded under him as delighted with the Burden. The old Gentleman beheld all with a Pleasure that had long been a Stranger to his Breast, and shared in the Joys of his young Associate.
Being arrived near the Farm House, Nurse, who stood at the Door, saw them approaching, and cried out,
Gaffer, Gaffer,
here comes our
Harry
with the dumb Gentleman. When they were come up. Good People, says the Stranger, is this your Child! no, no, Sir, answered the Nurse, we are but his Fosterers. And, pray, who is his Father? He is second Son, Sir, to the Earl of
Moreland.
The Earl of
Moreland!
you amaze me greatly, is this all the Notice and Care they take of such a Treasure? Sir, replied the Nurse, they never sent for him but once; they don't mind him, they take him for a Fool. For a Fool? cried he, and shook his Head in Token of Dissent. I am sure he has the wisest of all human Hearts. I wish it may beso, Sir, said the Nurse, but he behaved very sadly, some Time ago, at the great House. She then made a Recital of all our young Hero's Adventures in the Mansion-Parlour; whereat the old Gentleman inwardly chuckled, and, for the first Time, of some Years, permitted his Features to relax into a Smile of Cheerfulness.
Nurse, said he, every Thing that I hear and see of this Child serves the more to endear and bind me to him. Pray, be so good as to accompany us to my House, we will try to equip him better both as to Person and Understanding.
As this Stranger's Seat made Part of the Village, they were soon there. He first whispered his old Domestic, who, then, looked upon the Child with Surprise and Pleasure. The Footman was next sent to bring the Taylor, and some light Stuffs from the Town Shop. Matters being thus dispatched, with respect to our Hero's first Coat and Britches, Nurse was kept to Dinner; and after this Gentleman had entertained his young Guest with a Variety of little Tricks, childish Plays, and other-Fooleries; toward Evening, he dismissed him and his Nurse, with a Request that she would send him every Day, and a Promise that he should be returned every Night if she desired it.
Harry,
being thus furnished with the external Tokens of a Man Child, having been born into the World, became an inseparable Friend and Play-fellow to his Patron. At Times of Relaxation, the old Gentleman, with the most winning and insinuating Address, endeavoured to open his Mind and cultivate his Morals, by a thousand little Fables, such as of bold Sparrows, and naughty Kids, that were carried away by the Hawk, or devoured by the Wolf, and of good Robbins, and innocent Lambs, that the very Hawks and Wolves, themselves, were fond of. For he never proposed any Encouragement or Reward to the Heart of our Hero, save that of the Love and Approbation of Others. At the Times of such Instruction,
Harry,
who knew no other Dependence, and beheld his Patron as his Father and as his God, would hang upon his Knee, look up to his Face, delighted, and greedily imbibe the Sweetness of those Lessons whose Impressions neither Age, nor any Occurrence, could ever after erase; so prevalent are the Dictates of Lips that are beloved.
At other Times, the Stranger would enter, with our Hero, into all his little Frolicks and childish Vagaries, would run and wrestle with him, ride the Rods, roll down the Slope, and never felt such sweet Sensations and inward Delight, as when he was engaged in such Recreations.
There was a Cock at
Harry
's Nurses, the Lord of the Dunghill, between whom and our Hero a very particular Intimacy and Friendship had been contracted.
Harry
's Hand was his daily Caterer; and
Dick,
for the Cock was so called, would hop into the Child's Lap and pick his clothes, and rub his Feathers against him, and court
Harry
to tickle and stroak and play with him.
Upon a
Shrove-Tuesday,
while
Harry
was on his Road, from his Patron's, intending a short Visit to his Nurse and Foster Father, a Lad came to their Door and offered
Gaffer
a double Price for
Dick;
the Bargain was quickly made, the Lad bore off his Prize in Triumph, and
Gaffer
withdrew to the manuring of a back Field. Just at that Crisis
Harry
came up, and enquired of the Maid for his Daddy and Mammy, but was answered that neither of them was within. He then asked after his favourite Cock, but was told that his Daddy had, that Minute, sold him to yonder Man who was almost out of Sight.
Away sprung our Hero, like an Arrow from a Bow, and held the Man in View till he saw him enter a great crowd, at the upper end of the Street. Up he comes, at last, quite out of Breath, and making way through the Assembly, perceived his Cock, at some Distance, tied to a short Stake, and a Lad preparing to throw at him with a Stick. Forward he rushed, again, and stopped resolutely before his Bird, to ward the Blow with his own Person, at the Instant that the Stick had taken its Flight, and that all the People cryed out, hold! hold! One End of the Stick took
Harry
in the left Shoulder, and bruised him sorely; but, not regarding that, he instantly stooped, delivered his captive Favourite, whipped him under his Arm, caught up the Stick, flourish'd it, as in Defiance of all Opponents, made Homeward thro' the crowd, and was followed by the Acclamations of the whole Assemby.
The old Gentleman was standing before his Court Door when his Favourite arrived, all in a Sweat; what's the Matter, my Dear, says he, what made you put yourself into such a Heat? what Cock is that you have under your Arm? In answer to these several Questions
Harry
ingenuously confessed the whole Affair. And, when his Patron with some Warmth, cried, why, my Love, did you venture your Life for a silly Cock? why did I? repeated the Child, why Sir, because he loved me. The Stranger, then, stepping back and gazing upon him with Eyes of tender Admiration; may Heaven for ever bless thee, my little Angel, he exclaimed, and continue to utter from thy Lips the Sentiments that it Inspires. Then, catching him up in his Arms, he bathed him with his Tears, and almost, stifled him with his Caresses.
In a few Days, our Hero was again restored, by frequent Fomentations, to the Use of his Arm; and his Dada, as he called him, and he returned to their old Recreations.
As
Harry
's Ideas began to open and expand, he grew ambitious of greater Power and Knowledge. He wished for the Strength of that Bull, and for the Swiftness of yonder Horse. And, on the Close of a solemn and serene Summer's Evening, while he and his Patron walked in the Garden, he wished for Wings that he might fly up and see what the Sky, and the Stars, and the rising Moon were made of.
In order to reform this Inordinacy of his Desires, his Patron addressed him in the following Manner.
I will tell you a Story, my
Harry.
On the other Side of yonder Hill there runs a mighty clear River, and in that River, on a Time, there lived three silver Trouts, the prettiest little Fishes that any one ever saw. Now God took a great liking and love to these pretty silver Trouts, and he let them want for nothing that such little Fishes could have occasion for. But two of them grew sad and discontented; and the One wished for this Thing, and the Other wished for that Thing, and neither of them could take Pleasure in any Thing that they had, because they were always longing for something that they had not.
Now,
Harry,
you must know that all this was very naughty in those two little Trouts; for God had been exceedingly kind to them; he had given them every Thing that was fittest for them; and he never grudged them any Thing that was for their Good; but instead of thanking him for all his Care and his Kindness, they blamed him, in their own Minds, for refusing them any Thing that their silly Fancies were set upon. In short there was no End of their wishing, and longing, and quarrelling, in their Hearts, for this Thing and the other.
At last, God was so provoked, that he resolved to punish their Naughtiness by granting their Desires, and to make the Folly of those two little stubborn Trouts an Example to all the foolish Fish in the whole World.
For this Purpose, he called out to the three little silver Trouts, and told them they should have whatever they wished for.
Now, the Eldest of these Trouts was a very proud little Fish, and wanted, forsooth, to be set up above all other little Fishes. May it please your Greatness, says he, I must be free to tell you that I do not, at all, like the Way in which you have placed me. Here you have put me into a poor, narrow, and troublesome River, where I am straitened on the right Side, and straitened on the left Side and can neither get down into the Ground, nor up into the Air, nor go where, nor do any one Thing I have a mind to. I am not so blind, for all, but that I can see, well enough, how mighty kind and bountiful you can be to Others. There are your favourite little Birds, who fly this Way and that Way, and mount up to the very Heavens; and do whatever they please, and have every Thing at Command, because you have given them Wings. Give me such Wings, also, as you have given to them, and then I will have something for which I ought to thank you.
No sooner ask than have. He felt the Wings he wished for growing from either Side, and, in a Minute, he spread them abroad, and rose out of the Water. At first he felt a wonderful Pleasure in finding himself able to fly. He mounted high into the Air, above the very Clouds, and he looked down with Scorn on all the Fishes in the World.
He now resolved to travel, and to take his Diversion far and wide. He flew over Rivers, and Meadows, and Woods, and Mountains; till, growing faint with Hunger and Thirst, his Wings began to fail him, and he thought it best to come down to get some Refreshment.
The little Fool did not consider that he was now in a strange Country, and many a Mile from the sweet River, where he was born and bred, and had received all his Nourishment. So, when he came down, he happened to alight among dry Sands and Rocks, where there was not a Bit to eat, nor a Drop of Water to drink; and so there he lay faint and tired, and unable to rise, gasping, and fluttering, and beating himself against the Stones, till at length he died in great Pain and Misery.
Now, the second silver Trout, though he was not so high minded as the first little proud Trout, yet he did not want for Conceit enough, and he was moreover a narrow hearted and very selfish little Trout, and, provided he himself was snug and safe, he did not care what became of all the Fishes in the World. So he says to God:
May it please your Honour. I don't wish, not I, for Wings to fly out of the Water, and to ramble into strange Places, where I don't know what may become of me. I lived contented and happy enough, till the other Day, when, as I got under a cool Bank from the Heat of the Sun, I saw a great Rope coming down into the Water, and it fastened itself, I don't know how, about the Gills of a little Fish that was basking beside me, and he was lifted out of the Water, struggling and working in great Pain, till he was carried, I know not where, quite out of my Sight. So, I thought in my own Mind, that this Evil, some Time or other, may happen to myself, and my Heart trembled within me, and I have been very sad and discontented ever since. Now, all I desire of you, is, that you would tell me the Meaning of this, and of all the other Dangers to which you have subjected us poor little mortal Fishes; for then I shall have Sense enough to take care of my own Safety, and I am very well able to provide for my own Living, I warrant you.
No sooner said than done. God immediately opened his Understanding; and he knew the Nature and Meaning of Snares, Nets, Hooks, and Lines, and of all the Dangers to which such little Trouts could be liable.
At first he greatly rejoiced in this his Knowledge; and he said to himself, now surely I shall be the happiest of all Fishes; for, as I understand and am forewarned of every Mischief that can come near me, I'm sure I love myself too well not to keep out of Harm's way.
From this Time forward, he took Care not to go into any deep Holes, for fear that a Pike, or some other huge Fish might be there, who would make nothing of swallowing him up at one Gulf. He also kept away from the shallow Places, especially in hot Weather, left the Sun should dry them up and not leave him Water enough to swim in. When he saw the Shadow of a Cloud coming and moving upon the River, a ha! said he to himself, here are the Fishermen with their Nets, and immediately he got on one Side and skulked under the Banks, where he kept trembling in his Skin, till the Cloud was past. Again when he saw a Fly skimming on the Water, or a Worm coming down the Stream, he did not dare to bite, however hungry he might be; no no, said he to them, my honest Friends, I am not such a Fool as that comes to neither; go your ways and tempt those who know no better, who are not aware that you may serve as Baits to some treacherous Hook, that lies hid for the Destruction of those ignorant and silly Trouts that are not on their Guard.
Thus, this over careful Trout kept himself in continual Frights and Alarms, and could neither eat, nor drink, nor sleep in Peace, lest some Mischief should be at Hand, or that he might be taken napping. He daily grew poorer, and poorer, and sadder, and sadder, for he pined away with Hunger, and sigh'd himself to Skin and Bone; till, wasted almost to nothing with Care and Melancholy, he at last died, for fear of dying, the most miserable of all Deaths.
Now, when God came to the youngest silver Trout, and asked him what he wished for. Alas (said this darling little Trout) you know, may it please your Worship, that I am but a very foolish and good for nothing little Fish; and I don't know, not I, what is good for me or what is bad for me; and I wonder how I came to be worth bringing into the World, or what you could see in me to take any thought about me. But, if I must wish for something, it is that you would do with me whatsoever you think best; and that I should be pleased to live, or die, even just as you would have me.
Now, as soon as this precious Trout made this Prayer in his good and his humble little Heart, God took such a Liking and a Love to him, as the like was never known. And God found it in his own Heart, that he could not but take great Care of this sweet little Trout, who had trusted himself so wholely to his Love and good Pleasure, and God went wheresoever he went, and was always with him and about him, and was to him as a Father and Friend and Companion; and he put Contentment into his Mind and Joy into his Heart; and so this little Trout slept always in Peace, and wakened in Gladness; and whether he was full or hungry, or whatever happened to him, he was still pleased and thankful; and he was the happiest of all Fishes that ever swam in any Water.
Harry
at the Close of this Fable, looked down and grew thoughtful, and his Patron left him to himself to ruminate on what he had heard Now,
Harry
had often heard talk of God, and had some general though confused Notions of his Power.
The next Day, he requested his Patron to repeat the Story of the Three little silver Trouts. When he had ended, Dada, says
Harry,
I believe I begin to guess a little at what you mean. You wouldn't have me wish for any Thing, but leave every Thing to God; and, if I thought that God loved me, half as well as you love, me, I would leave every Thing to himself, like the good little Trout. He does, my
Harry,
he loves you a thousand Times better than I love you, nay a thousand Times better than you love yourself. God is all Love; it is he who made every Thing, and he loves every Thing that he has made. Ay, but Dada, I can't, for the Heart of me help pitying the two poor little naughty Trouts. If God loves every Thing, why did he make any Thing to dye? You begin to think too deeply,
Harry;
we will speak more of these Matters another Time. For the present, let it suffice to know that, as he can kill, he can also make alive, again, at his own Pleasure.
Harry
had now remained about twelve Months with his Patron, when it was intimated to the Earl and his Lady that the dumb Man had taken a Fancy to their Child, and, that he was almost constantly, resident at his House. Alarmed at this News, and apprehending that this Man might be some Impostor or Kidnapper, they, once more, sent Orders to the Nurse to bring the Boy home.
Nurse run in a Hurry to the Stranger's, and, having informed him of the Necessity she was under to take away the Child, many mutual Tears were shed at Parting; but
Harry
was the sooner pacified when Nurse told him that it was but for a short Visit, as before.
When they came to the Castle, there was no Company in the Parlour, but the Earl and his Lady, with Lord
Richard
and some other Masters of Quality, about his Age and Size.
Harry,
however looked about with a Brow of Disgust; and, when my Lady desired him to come and kiss her, maybe you'll whip me, he answered sullenly; No, she replied, if you don't strike your Brother
Dicky
any more. I won't beat him, says
Harry,
if he won't beat Mammy. Come then and kiss me, my Dear, said my Lady, whereon
Harry
advanced with a slow Caution, and held up his little Mouth to receive her Salute. He was then kissed by his Father, his Brother, and the little Masters, and all Things promised future Reconcilement and Amity.
A Number of glittering Toys were then presented to
Harry
on all Sides; he received them, indeed, in good Part, but laid them all aside again as Things of whose Use he yet was not wise enough to be apprehensive.
Is it not too early for your Hero to show a Contempt of Toys?
My Lady, as you will see, imputed it to his Folly, not to his Philosophy.
But Children have a natural Fondness for fine Things.
How so, is there a natural Value in them?
No. But  
Education, indeed, has made the Fondness next to natural. The Coral and Bells, teach Infants, on the Breast, to be delighted with Sound and Glitter. Has the Child of an Inhabitant of
Monomotapa
a natural Fondness for Garbage?
I think not.
But, when he is instructed to prize them, and sees that it is the Fashion to be adorned with such Things, he prefers them to the Glister of Gold and Pearl. Tell me, was it the Folly, or Philosophy, of the Cock in the Fable, that spurned the Diamond and wished for the Barley Corn?
The Moral says it was his Folly, that did not know how to make a right Estimate of Things.
A wiser Moral would say it was his Philosophy, that did know how to make a right Estimate of Things; for, of what Use could the Diamond be to the Cock? In the Age of Acorns, antecedent to
Ceres
and the royal Ploughman
Triptolemus,
a single Barley Corn had been of more Value, to Mankind, than all the Diamonds that glowed in the Mines of
India.
You see, however, that Age, Reflection, and Philosophy can hardly wean People from their early Fondness for Shew.
I see, on the contrary, that the older they grow, and the wiser they think themselves, the more they become attached to Trifles. What would you think of a sage Minister of State, who should make it the utmost Height of his Wishes and Ambition to be mounted on a Hobbyhorse?
You can't be serious, for the Soul of you.
It has been seriously, and truly, and literally the Fact. For,
Haman
being asked, by the greatest Monarch upon Earth, what should be done most desirable for the Man whom the King delighted to Honour? He answered (in the Persuasion that he himself was the Person)
Let the royal Apparel be brought and let him be arrayed therewith, and let him be put upon the Horse that the King useth to ride, and let him be brought through the Street, and have it proclaimed before him, thus shall it be done to the Man whom the King delighteth to Honour.
What shall we say here? could the sage and ambitious
Haman
think of nothing better than what would have suited the request of a Child of five Years old? Or was it that the Emperor of
Asia,
or this World itself, had nothing more valuable to bestow than a fine Coat and a Hobbyhorse?
How many Volumes do you expect this Work will contain?
Sir, a Book may be compared to the Life of your Neighbour. If it be good, it cannot last too long; if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.
But, how long, I say, do you propose to make your Story?
My good Friend, the Reader may make it as short as he pleases.
CHAP. III.
MY Lady piqued thereat, told the Earl that she resolved, once more to prove the Wits of the Youngster in Britches; and whispering to
Dicky,
he immediately went out and took with him his Companions. Soon after,
Dick
returns without his Shoes, but with a pitiful Face, and cries, Brother
Harry
honey, I want a Pair of Shoes sadly, will you give me Your's? Yes, I will, said
Harry,
and instantly strips and presents them to him. Then entered another Boy and demanded his Stockings, in the like petitioning manner; another beg'd his Hat, another his Coat, another his Waistcoat, all of which he bestowed without Hesitation. But, when the last Boy came in and petitioned for his Shirt; no, I won't, said
Harry,
a little moody, I want a Shirt myself. My Lady then exclaimed, upon my Conscience, there is but the Thickness of a bit of Linen between this Child and a down right Fool. But my Lord rose up, took
Harry
in his Arms, and having tenderly embraced him, God bless thee, my Boy, he cried, and make thee an Honour to old
England.
Dinner, soon after, was ordered up, and
Harry
permitted his Nurse to retire peaceably to the Kitchen, during the Interval, as he and all the Masters were then on Terms of Amity.
My Lady placed
Harry,
next herself, at Table, but no Peer ever payed such a Price at
Pontac
's, as our distressed Hero did that Day for his Ordinary. For he must sit up just so, and hold his Knife and Fork just so, and cut his Meat, and open his Mouth, and swallow his Victuals just so and so and so. And then, between every two Words, there was to be so many my Lords and my Ladies, and I thank you Sir, and I thank you Madam, and Master this and Master that, that poor
Harry,
no longer able to contain himself, cried, I wish I was with my Mammy in the Kitchen.
After Dinner the Children were set to Questions and Commands. But here, our Hero was beaten hollow, as he was afterwards, at Draw Glove and Shuffle the Slipper. They next came to Hot Cockles, and
Harry,
being first down, had his left Hand well warmed for near a Quarter of an Hour, till, more by good Luck than any good Policy, he fix'd upon a delicate little Gentleman, the Son and Heir of Lord and Lady
Toilet,
who lay down, accordingly; when
Harry,
endeavouring to sum all the Favours he had received in one Payment, gave Master such a Whirrick, that his Cries instantly sounded the
ne plus ultra
to such kind of Diversions. But
Harry
being chidden for his Rudeness and obliged to ask Pardon, all was soon whole again.
Now, throughout these several Amusements, though this Group of little Quality, behaved themselves with great good Manners towards our Hero, yet, as my Lady's judgement of his Intellects became current thro' the Country, and that all took him to be little removed from a Natural; these small Gentry, also, held him in the lowest Contempt, and gave themselves secret Credit for the Decency of their Conduct in his Behalf.
Two or three of them, however, having maliciously contrived to set him in a ridiculous Light, prevailed upon his Brother to join in the Plot. They, accordingly, proposed a Play, wherein,
Harry
was enjoined to stand in the Centre, for so many Minutes, without Motion or Resentment let his Companions do what they would about him.
Our Hero, consequently, fixed himself to a Posture and Countenance altogether determined. The Attack instantly began. Some grinned, some pointed, some jeered and flouted at him, some twitched him by the Hair, some pinched him by the Breech, one tweaked him by the Nose, and another spirted Water full in his Face; but
Harry
bore all with the Firmness and Resignation of a Stoic Philosopher; till my Lady, quite impatient, cried out, did you ever see the like; such a Stock of a Child, such a Statue? why, he has no kind of Feeling, either of Body or Mind.
While she was pronouncing these Words, young
Skinker,
eldest Son to a wealthy 'Squire, a chubbed unlucky Boy, about the Age of Lord
Richard,
put one Hand within the other and desired
Harry
to strike thereon, which he did accordingly; but, feeling unusual Smart, and fired at the Treachery that he, justly, conceived was in the Case,
Harry
gave him such a sudden Fist in the Temple as drove him staggering backward, several Steps.
Skinker,
wholly enraged, and conscious of superior Strength, immediately returned, and with all his Might, gave
Harry
a Stroke on the Head, which Compliment he returned by a Punch in the Eye as rapid as Lightning. All the Boys stood aloof, and amazed at the Combat. My Lady, vehemently cried out to part them. But my Lord rose and, peremptorily, commanded fair Play. Mean while, young
Skinker,
wholly desperate to be foiled by one so much his Inferior in Strength and Understanding, flew on
Harry
like a Fury and fastened the Nails of both his Hands in his Face, from which Gripe our Hero as quickly disengaged himself, by darting his Head into the Nose and Mouth of his Adversary, who was instantly covered with Blood, though his Passion would not permit him to attend to the Pain; for, exerting his last Effort, he closed in on our little Champion, and determined, at once, to finish the Combat, by lifting and dashing him against the Ground; but
Harry
finding himself going, nimbly put one Foot behind and hit
Skinker
in the Ham, and, at the same time pushing forward, with all his Force, prone fell the unfortunate
Skinker
precipitated by the double Weight of himself and his Antagonist, and his Head rebounded against the Floor, while up sprung
Harry,
and with a rising Dunt in the Stomach, put a Period to the Fray.
All dismayed, and, wholly discomforted,
Skinker
flowly arose, and began to puke and cry most piteously. His Companions then gathered about him, and, compassionating his Plight, turned an Eye of Indignation upon the Victor; all promiscuously exclaimed, O fie, Master
Harry,
I'm quite ashamed, Master
Harry,
you gave the first Blow; it was you that gave the first Blow, Master
Harry;
to all which Reproaches
Harry,
surlily, replied, if I gave first Blow he gave first Hurt.
Come, come, said my Lord, there must be something more in this Affair than we are, yet, acquainted with. Come hither Master
Skinker,
tell me the Truth, my Dear, what was it you did to
Harry
that provoked him to strike you? Indeed, Sir, said
Skinker,
I did not intend to Hurt him so much. When I gave him one Hand to strike, I held a Pin, within side in the other, but the Pin run up further than I thought for. Go, go, said my Lord, you deserve what you have got. You are an ill-hearted Boy, and shall not come here to play any more.
My Lady then called
Harry,
desired to look at his Hand, and found the Palm covered with Blood. This she washed away, and, having found the Wound, she put a small bit of Black sticking Silk to the Orifice, and
Harry
instantly held himself as sound a Man as ever.
It was then that, instead of exulting or crowing over his Adversary, he began to relax into Melancholy and Dejection, and sideling over toward
Skinker,
and, looking wistfully in his Face, if, said
Harry,
with a trembling Lip, if you will Kiss and Friends with me, I'll never beat you any more. To this Overture
Skinker
was, with a sullen Reluctance, persuaded by his Companions. And, from that Moment, the Victor began to gain Ground in the Heart and good Graces both of Father and Mother.
Night now approached, the Candles were lighted up, and the Children took a short and slight Repast. Master
Dicky
then, privately whispering to his Mamma, desired her not to be frightened at what she might see, and immediately withdrew. In a short Time he returned, and gathering all his little Companions into a Group, in the Centre of the Parlour, held them a while in Chat. When, O tremendous! a back Door flew open, and, in glided a most terrifying and horrible Apparition; the Body and Limbs, from the Neck downwards, were all wrapt in a winding Sheet; and the Head, though Fear could not attend to its Form, appeared wholly illuminated with Flames that glared thro' the Eyes, Mouth and Nostrils.
At Sight hereof, Master
Dicky,
appearing the first to be frightened, screamed out, and ran behind his Mamma's Chair, as it were for Protection; the Pannick grew instantly contagious, and all this Host of little Gentry, who were, thereafter, to form our Senates, and to lead our Armies, ran, shrieking and shivering, to hide themselves in Holes and to tremble in Corners.
Our Hero, alone, stood undaunted, though concerned; and, like an Astronomer who, with equal Dread and Attention, contemplates some sudden Phenomenon in the Heavens, which he apprehends to be sent as an Ensign or Forerunner to the fall of mighty States, or dispeopling of Nations, so
Harry
with bent and apprehensive Brows, beheld and considered the approaching Spectre.
He had never heard nor formed any Idea of Ghosts of Hobgoblins, he therefore stood to deliberate what he had to fear from it. It still advanced upon him, nor had he yet budged. When his Brother cried out, from behind my Lady's Chair, beat it,
Harry,
beat it. On the instant,
Harry
flew back to the Corner, next the Hall, and catching up his Staff, the Trophy of
Shrove Tuesday,
he returned upon the Spectre, and, aiming a noble Blow at the illuminated Sconce, he, at once, smash'd the outward Lantern; drove the Candle, Flame and all, into the Mouth of him who held it; and opened his upper Lip from the Nose to the Teeth. Out spouted the Blood as from a Spiggot. The Ghost clapped all the Hands that he had to his Mouth, and slunk away to show to his Friends in the Kitchen, how he had been baffled and mauled by an Infant of seven Summers.
Heav'n preserve us, cried my Lady, we shall have nothing but Broils and Bloodshed in the House while this Child is among us. Indeed, my Dear, replied the Earl, if there was any Thing more than mere Accident in this Business, it was the Fault of your Favourite
Dicky,
who desired the Boy to strike.
By this Time, the little Gentry came, all from their lurking Holes, though yet pale and unassured. And, whatever Contempt they might have for the Intellects of
Harry,
they had, now, a very sincere Veneration for his Prowess.
Bed Time now approaching, and all being again settled.
Harry,
says my Lord, you have been a very good Boy, to Day, and have joined with your Companions in all their little Plays. Now, if you have any Plays to show them I am sure they will have the good Manners to do as you desire. What say you
Harry,
have you any Play to show them? Yes, Sir, said
Harry,
I have a many of them; there's first, Leap Frog, and Thrush a Thrush. To it, then,
Harry,
says my Lord, and pray, all you little Gentlemen, do you observe his Directions.
No sooner said than done.
Harry
took his Companions, One by One, and, causing them to stoop, with their Heads toward the Ground in a long Line, and at certain Distances each before the other, he returned to the Tail, and taking the Advantage of a short Run to quicken his Motion, he laid his Hands on the Rump of the Hindmost, and vaulting lightly over him, he, with amazing Rapidity, flew along the whole Line, clearing a Man, at ev'ry Motion, till he alighted before the Foremost, and down he popt in the Posture of those behind.
My Lady, in utter Astonishment, lifting up her Hands and Eyes, exclaimed, O the fine Creature, O the graceful Creature! if there was but a Mind to match that Body, there would not be such another Boy in the Universe.
Lord
Richard,
being now hindmost, was the next who adventured, and, with Action enough, cleared his two first Men; but then having lost the Advantage of his Run, and, his Foreman being of more than ordinary Size; he first stuck upon his Rump, and, pitching thence, broke his Forehead against the Floor. He got up however with a pleasant Countenance, and, running along side the Line, set himself in his former Posture before his Brother. The Hindmost then, and then the next, and the next, and so onward, took their Turns, in Succession, without any better Success. The one bruised his Shoulder, another sprained his Finger, another bumpt his Head, another broke his Nose,
&c. &c.
So that, in less than five Minutes, my Lady had got an Hospital of her own, though not altogether consisting of Incurables.
Now, Spirits, and Vinegar, brown Paper, black Plaister,
&c.
were called for in a Hurry, and, the several Stupes and Dressings being skilfully applied, the Children were ordered to their respective Beds, and Nurse was prevailed upon to continue with
Harry,
till he should'd be reconciled to his new Friends and Associates.
Now
Harry
was become a Favourite, especially among the Servants who, in a manner; adored him, since the Adventure of the Box and the Hobgoblin.
Hobgoblin. --In good Time --Nothing amazes me, so much, as the terrifying Apprehensions that the World, from the Beginning, has universally entertained of Ghosts and Spectres.
Do you fear them?
No --I can't say --not much --something of this formerly. I should not like, even now, to lie alone, in a remote Chamber of a ruinous Castle said to be haunted, and have my Curtains, at Midnight, opened suddenly upon me by a Death's-head and Bloody-bones. All Nonsense, I know it; the early Prejudices of a dastardly Fancy --I fear, while I am convinced there is nothing to be feared. --Do you think there is any such Thing in Nature as a Spirit?
I know not that there is any such Thing, in Nature, as Matter.
Not know there is any such Thing as Matter? --You love to puzzle --to throw lets into the Road of common Sense. --What else do you know? from what else can you form any kind of Idea?
The Room is warm enough, more Heat is needless. --I know that Thoughts and Conceptions are raised in my Mind; but, how they are raised, or that they are adequate Images of Things supposed to be represented, I know not. What if this Something, or this Nothing, called Matter, should be a Shadow, a Vacuum, in respect of Spirit, wholely resistless to it and pervadeable by it? Or, what if it be no other than a various Manifestation of the several good and evil Qualities of Spirit? If one infinite Spirit, as is said, fills the Universe, all other Existence must be but as the Space wherein he essentially abides and exists; indeed, they could not be produced, or continued for a Moment, but by his existing omnipotently, indivisibly, entirely, in and throughout every Part.
This is new, very new --but I will not batter my Brains against your Castle. --According to your Thesis, when a Man is apprehensive of a Spirit or Spectre, it is not of Shadows but of Substances that he is afraid.
Certainly; his principal Apprehension arises from his believing it more sufficient, more powerful, and more formidable than himself.
Excuse me, there are more tremendous Reasons. On the Supposition of an Engagement, those Sort of invisible Gentry have many Advantages over us. They give a Man no manner of fair Play. They have you here, and have you there, and your best Watch and Ward is no better than fencing against an invisible Flail. --But, seriously, do you think we have any innate Fears of these Matters?
All our Fears arise from the Sense of our own Weakness, and of the Power and Inclination that Others may have to hurt us.
If our Horrour of Apparitions is not innate, how comes it to pass, that Soldiers, that general Officers, who dare all other Danger, that
Heroes
who, like
Brutus,
have given Death to themselves, or who have been led to Execution without a changing Cheek, have yet dreaded to lie alone, or to be left in the dark?
We all see that a Spirit has vast Power. Nothing else in Truth can have any Power at all. We perceive, by ourselves and others, with what Ease it can act upon what we call Matter; how it moves, how it lifts it. Perhaps, were our Spirits detached from this distempered Prison, to which the Degeneracy of our fallen Nature has confined them, they might more easily whirl a Mountain through the Atmosphere, than they can now cast a Pebble into the Air. The Consideration of this Power, when joined to Malevolence, as is generally the Case, becomes very tremendous. The Stories told by Nurses and Gossips about a Winter's Fire, when the young Auditors crouch closer and closer together, and dare not look about for fear of what may be behind them, leave Impressions that no subsequent Reason or Religion can efface. The Ideas of an Apparition, on these Occasions, are connected with all the Horrours, of which infant Imaginations can be susceptible; Fangs, Horns, a threatning Mien, saucer Eyes, a flaming Breath, and a deadly Aspect. When Children are told of Fairies, who carry off People to dwell with them under Ground, and of evil Spirits who snatch away Soul and Body, together, to be their Associates in Regions of Darkness, and Woe, the Fear of such Evils greatly surpasses those of Death, as it weds Misery to Existence beyond the Grave. --On the contrary Side. Had Spirits been originally represented to Infants as Beings of an amiable Appearance, and as Guardians benevolent and beneficent to Man; had they further deigned to visit us under such Representations, and, had we experienced the Advantage of their Instructions and good Offices, we should have met them with Transport, and have parted with Regret.
I observe that, as our female Antiquarians drop off, our Faith in Spectres perceptibly decays. We have not the fiftieth Story either propagated or believed, that was credited as Gospel when I was a Boy. What think you, is it for, or against Religion, that such Fables should get footing among Mankind?
I never could think it for the Interest of Religion that the Providence of God should be elbowed, as it were, quite out of the World by a System of Daemonism. On the other Hand, I take the Devil to be a Personage of much more Prudence than to frighten his Favourites from him by assuming such horrid and disgustful Appearances. He rather chooses to lurk behind Temptation, in the Allurement of Beauty, the Deceitfulness of Smiles, the Glozing of Compliments, in Revel and Banquetting, in Titles and Honours, in the Glitter of Ornament, and in the Pomp of State. When God sends his Spirits on Messages to Man, there is a Meaning of Importance in the Errand. Such was that of his Angel to
Manoah
for the Delivery of a People; and to
Zacharias
and the blessed Virgin for the Redemption of Humankind. But, when the Devil is said to send his Emissaries throughout the Earth, on what Errands does this Arch-Politician employ them? Even such as could suit no other than a Dunce or a Driveller. I never yet heard of one of these Missions that could be construed to any Intention of Cunning or common Sense. I therefore hold the Legends of his ghostly Visitation to be altogether apocryphal.
Every Man of common Sense must be of the same Opinion. And yet, have you known any Person wholely free from such Prejudices, who made no Distinction, on this fantastical Article, between Darkness and Mid-Day, between a lonely Charnel House and a full Assembly?
I have; but they were Men of exceeding strong Nerves; as also of exceedingly clear or exceedingly callous Consciences, which, coming from opposite Points, equally met for the same Purpose on this Occasion.
Two Travellers, the One a Man of Piety, the Other a Profligate, met at a Country Inn just as Night came upom them. It was
Halontide-Eve,
the Season, in those Days, wherein the Devils were said to keep high Carnival, and when all the Inhabitants of the visionary Regions were supposed to revel and range throughout the Earth at Pleasure.
For want of better Company our Travellers made up an Acquaintance, and further cemented it by a Jugg of good Liquor. The Night was dark. The Girls of the House had new wash'd their Smocks, to be hung to the Fire, and turned by the ghostly Resemblances of their Sweethearts; and the Conversation, in the Kitchen, ran on many an authentic Narrative of Spectres, and, particularly, on the Man in Gibbets who hung by the Road, and who was reported, between Twelve and One at Midnight, to descend from the Gallows, and take just three turns about the old Barn.
Do you believe any of this droll Stuff, said the Profligate. I know not what to think, answered his pious Companion, I find all the World in the same Story, and yet, as the saying is, I never saw any Thing more frightful than myself. As for my Share, said the Profligate, I think I shouldn't fear the great Devil himself; and indeed I should be glad to have a little Chat with the old Gentleman. Stout as you are, rejoined his Companion, I will lay you a Bet of five Crowns that you dare not warm a Porringer of Broth, and go, and offer it, without there, to the Man in Gibbets, I will depend on your Honour for Performance of Articles. 'Tis done, cried the other; the Betts were produced, and respectively deposited in the Hands of my Landlady.
Our pious Traveller, who now began to be alarmed for his Wager, stole slyly out, while his Companion was busied in heating the Broth. He made up to the Place where the deceased Malefactor was taking the fresh Air. The Gallows was low, and, by the Advantage of a Bank behind and his own Agility, he leaped up and fastened his Arms about the Shoulders of the Corpse, so that they both appeared but as one Body.
He had just fixed himself to his Mind, when, up comes his Companion with the Porringer and a Stool. He directly mounted the Stool, and, reaching up a spoonful of Broth to the Mouth of the Dead, with a firm and bold Voice he cried, Sup Man! why don't you Sup?
Scarce had these Words been uttered, when, fearful to hear! with a Tone deep as Hell and dismal as the Grave, the Man in Gibbets replied  It i  is too ho  ot. And damn you, why don't you blow it then? rejoined the other.
My Nerves will not admit of this for Fact. The Tale indeed is good, though such an Instance of Intrepidity in any Mortal may be disputable. But, shall we never return to our Story again?
It matters not how far we travel from it, since the Magic of a Wish can bring us back in a twinkling.
CHAP. IV.
RUFFLED Linen, laced Hat, Silk Stockings,
&c.
had now been ordered, for
Harry,
with a new Suit of clothes, trimed like those of your Beau-Insects, vulgarly called Butterflies. They were tried on, in the Presence of his Parents, and highly approved by all, except
Harry
himself, who seemed, by his Fidgettings, to be somewhat disgusted at this new Kind of Incumbrance.
Harry,
says my Lord, puts me in mind of the Son of
Jesse
in the Armour of
Saul,
he has not yet proved them. Well
Harry,
how do you like yourself? I don't know, not I, says
Harry.
But, Papa, can you tell me what these Things are for? In truth
Harry,
you pose me. Won't People love me better, Sir? not a whit indeed
Harry,
replied my Lord. L  d help that little Fool's Head of thine, interposed my Lady, if People won't love thee, they'll respect thee the more. Fool's Head! repeated my Lord, upon my Soul, the Child has more Sense than Half our Nobility.
Harry
had been, now, near a Month with his Parents, and, as his Nurse had not yet parted, he was tolerably amenable to Quality Government. However, he pined in the Absence of his Dada, as he called him, and daily importuned my Lord and Lady to be permitted to go and see him. For, as
Harry
's Heart told him that his bearded Dada loved him better than all the World, so
Harry
loved him better than three Worlds; for, he was ever desirous of going three Times as far, in Affection and good Offices, as any one went for him.
At length, he obtained Consent, and was conducted, by his Nurse, in all his Finery, on a Visit to this dear Dada.
Their meeting was accompanied by Tears of Joy on both Sides; when the old Gentleman, struck with Concern at the Garb in which he saw his Darling, cried out, and who, my Dear, put this Fool's Coat upon my Child? Fool's Coat, Sir, says
Harry;
yes, my Love, it is worse than all that; they were very naughty Doctors who have endeavoured to poison my Boy. There is not a Bit, of all this Lace and Ruffling, that is not full of rank Poisons. I will tell you a Story my
Harry.
There was, once upon a Time, a very good and a very clever Boy called
Hercules.
As he grew up, beside his Prayers and his Book, he was taught to run, and leap; to ride, wrestle, and cudgel; and though he was able to beat all the Boys in the Parish, he never used to hurt or quarrel with any of them. He did not matter Cold, nor Hunger, nor what he eat, nor what he drank; nor how, nor where he lay; and he went always dressed in the Skin of a wild Beast, that could bear all Winds and Weathers, and that he could put on or off at Pleasure, for he knew that his Dress was no Part of himself, and could neither add to him, nor take away any Thing from him.
When this brave Boy came to Man's Estate, he went about the World, doing Good in all Places; helping the Weak, and feeding the Hungry, and clothing the Naked, and comforting those that cried, and beating all those that did Hurt or Wrong to others; and all good People loved him with their whole Hearts, and all naughty People feared him terribly.
But, O sad and dismal! a Lady, whom he had saved from great Hurt and Shame, made him a Present of a new Coat, which was called a Shirt, in those Days, as they wore it next the Skin. And now, my
Harry,
take Notice. The Lady had covered this Coat, all over, with Laces, and with Rufflings, and with Beads of Glass, and such other Fooleries; so that poor
Hercules,
looked just as fine, as you do now. And he turned him to this Side, and he turned him to that Side, and he began to think more and better of himself, because he had got this Fool's Coat upon him. And the Poison of it entered into his Body and into his Mind, and brought Weakness and Distempers upon the one and the other. And he grew so fond of it that he could not bear to have it put off. For he thought that, to part with it, would be to part with his Flesh from his Bones. Neither would he venture out in the Rain, any more; nor box nor wrestle with any Body, for fear of spoiling his fine Coat. So that in Time, he lost the Love and the Praises of every Body; and all People scorned him, and pointed at him for a Fool and a Coxcomb, as he went by.
For some Time, after the old Gentleman had finished his Story, the Child continued to gaze up at him, with fixed Eyes and open Mouth, as fearful of losing any Syllable that he might utter. 'Till, recollecting himself, he cried out, O, this is a very sad Case, indeed; I wish my Coat was burnt, so I do, but, don't fear for me Dada. Why, how then
Harry?
replied his Patron. Why, I may find a Trick for all this, Dada, I warrant, you never see me in this ugly Coat again.
After this and some other Instructions and mutual Endearments, Nurse pressed to be gone; and these two fond Friends were compelled to sunder, with a Promise, on
Harry
's Part, of a speedy Return.
For some Time after his Arrival at the Mansion House,
Harry
appeared thoughtful, and greatly dejected, which they ascribed to his parting with his old Friend; but
Harry
had Schemes in his Head that they were little able to fathom or guess at. Having peeped about, for some Time, he found a Knife, in a Window, which he instantly seized upon, and then, stole up with all possible Privacy, to his Apartment.
There he stripped himself, in a Hurry, and, falling as quickly to work, began to cut and rip and rend away the Lacings of his Suit, without sparing Cloth or Seam. While he was, thus, in the Heat and very Middle of his Business, he heard himself, repeatedly called on the Stairs, and hurrying on his clothes, to obey the Summons, he ran down to the Parlour with Half the Trimmings hanging in Geometry, Fritters, and Tatters about him.
The droll, and very extraordinary Figure that he cut, struck all the Company into utter Amazement. Having gazed on him, for some Time, in a kind of silent Stupor. Why
Harry,
cries my Lady, what's all this for? who abused you, my Child, who put you in this Pickle? come hither and tell me, who spoiled your clothes? I did, Madam. You did, Sirrah, cried my Lady, giving him a Shake, and how dare you spoil them? why, because they wanted to spoil me, said
Harry.
And who told you they would spoil you, Sirrah? I won't tell, said
Harry.
I'll lay a Wager, cried my Lady, it was that old Rogue with the Beard; but I'll have him whipped for a Fool and a Knave out of the Parish. Pray, my Dear, be patient a little, said his Lordship. Come here,
Harry,
and tell me the Truth, stoutly; and no Harm shall happen to you or your Dada with the Beard. Come, speak, what Fault did he find with your clothes? Why, Sir, he said, as how they would poison me. Poison you, my Dear; pray how was that? Why, Sir, he told me as how there was a little Master, call'd
Herclus,
and as how he was a mighty good Boy, and was cold and hungry, and almost naked, and did not matter, so as how he could do Good to every Body; and as how every Body loved him with all their Heart. And then, he told me, as how he got a mighty fine Coat, and looked here, and looked there, and minded nothing but his Coat; and as how his Coat poisoned him, and would not let him do any more Good, and as how all the Boys then hated him, and pissed upon him, Sir --and as how --I believe, that's all, Sir   
Here, my Lord and Lady took such a Chink of Laughing, that it was some Time before they could recover; while
Harry
looked abashed and disconcerted. But my Lord, recollecting himself, took the Child on his Knee, and, warmly pressing him to his Bosom, I must tell you, my
Harry,
said he, as how you are a mighty good Boy, and as how your Dada with a Beard is a mighty good Dada, and has told you all that is right and true. And, that I will go, myself, one of these Days, and thank him in Person. Thank you, Sir, says
Harry.
Well,
Harry,
said my Lord, I promise that no one shall poison you any more, with my Consent. Whereupon another new Suit was immediately appointed, of a Kind that should fear no Weather, nor, in case of Dirt or Damage, draw upon
Harry
the Resentment or Admonitions of his Mama.
Just as Dinner was served up, Mr.
Meekly
entered and took his Seat. He came in order to conciliate a late Difference between the Earl and Sir
Standish Stately;
and in this he found no manner of Difficulty, as my Lord was, by Nature, of a kindly Disposition, and required no more than a first Advance to be reconciled to any Man.
During the Entertainment,
Harry
kept his Eyes fixed on Mr.
Meekly;
and, as soon as the Cloth was off, he rose, went over to him, looked fondly in his Face, and took hold of his Hand with the Familiarity of an old Acquaintance.
Mr.
Meekly,
said my Lord, my Son
Harry
pays you a very particular and very deserved Compliment; he puts me in mind of that Sort of Instinct, by which a strange Dog is always sure to discover, and to apply to the most benevolent Person at Table. Indeed, my Lord, said Mr.
Meekly,
(caressing the Child) I know not, whether by Instinct, or by what other name to call my own Feelings; but certain it is that, the first Moment I saw him, in his little peasant Petticoats, I found my Heart strongly affected toward him.
In a short Time my Lady retired, with the Children, and left the Earl and Mr.
Meekly
over a temperate Bottle. Mr.
Meekly,
said my Lord, (taking him cordially by the Hand) I rejoice at the Advantage of our late Acquaintance, or rather I repine that it was not earlier. I am greatly interested, Sir, in asking you a few Questions, if I thought I might do it without Offence. Are you any way straitened in your Circumstances? --No, my Lord, --But, would you not wish them more affluent, would you not wish that your Power of doing Good were more extensive, more answerable to the Benevolence of your own Inclinations? --I cannot say that I would, my Lord. I have upward of seven Hundred a Year clear Income; and that is fourteen Times more than I have Occasion to expend. --It would be indelicate, replied the Earl, very indelicate to own that I am sorry for your Prosperity; and yet I feel that I should have been happy in your Distress, in the Power it would have given me to serve, to oblige you. I want a Friend, I want just such a Friend as Mr.
Meekly,
and I know of no Price at which I would not gladly purchase him. --My Lord, I am yours, freely, affectionately yours, without Fee or Condition. Sir, rejoined my Lord, as I find that I cannot make out a Title to your particular Attachment, I am content to be taken into the general Circle of your Benevolence.
The World, Mr.
Meekly,
think me the happiest of Men; blessed in my Family, in my Friends; with Health, Honours, Affluence; with the Power of gratifying every Wish that human Fancy can form! but alas! my Sensations are very far from affirming their judgement of these Matters; and I will deserve your Advice, your Consolation, if you can afford it, by unbosoming myself to you without reserve.
When I reflect on my past Life, I look on many Parts of it with Repentance, and on the Whole with Regret. Not that I wish the return of Pleasures that I now despise, or of Years spent in a Manner that Virtue and common Sense must equally disapprove? but I am arrived at my Evening of Life, like a Sportsman who, having been in pursuit of Game all the Day, returns homeward, sorrowful, satigued, and disappointed. With every Advantage that could gratify either my Vanity or my Appetites, I cannot affirm that I ever tasted of true Enjoyment; and I now well perceive that I was kept from being miserable, merely by Amusement and Dissipation.
As I had the Misfortune to be born to Title and a vast Estate, all People respected, in me, the Possession of those Objects which they themselves were in pursuit of. I was consequently beset with Sycophants and Deceivers of all Sorts, and thereby, trained from my Infancy, to unavoidable Prejudices, Errors, and false Estimates of every Thing. I was not naturally ill-disposed, but I was perpetually seduced from all my better Tendencies.
Both my Parents died, before I arrived at those Years wherein our Laws allow of any Title to Discretion. I had but the one Brother, O that dear Brother, how many Sighs he has cost me! I was older than him by about seven Years, and this disparity of our Age, together with the elevating Notion of my Birthright, gave me the authoritative Airs of a Father, without a Father's Tenderness toward him. This mutually prevented that Cordiality, that Sympathy, as I may say, by which Brothers should be cemented during their Minority. And, when our Guardian, as I then judged, had so far betrayed his Trust, as to bind my Brother apprentice to a Trader, and thereby to deprive him of all Title to Gentility. I looked upon him as a Branch cut off from the Family-Tree, and, as my Thoughts about him were accompanied by Coldness or Disgust, I forbore to make any Enquiry concerning him.
I am apt to think, however, that he was not equally unnatural on his Part; but, hearing of the dissolute Life I led on my return from Travel, he might justly deem me unworthy of his Acquaintance or Notice.
During the Time of my Intimacy with his late Majesty and the Ministers of his Pleasures and Policy, a Servant brought me Word that a Gentleman, attended by a Number of the principal Citizens, waited for me in my Ante-chamber; whereupon I gave Orders for their immediate Introduction.
On their Entrance, I was awfully struck with the Presence of their Principal, with the Elegance of his Figure, the Nobleness of his Aspect, and Ease of his Address, and I felt myself drawn to him by a sudden Kind of instinctive Attachment.
My Lord, says he, we come to wait upon you in the Name of the very respectable Body of the Citizens of
London;
some Infringements have been lately made on their City-Charter, and their first Application is to your Lordship, as they wish, above all others, to be obliged to you for their Redress.
They have been very discreet, said I, in their choice of an Advocate. Their Demands must be exorbitant, if they fail of Success while you are their Solicitor.
This Paper, proceeded he, contains a clear Detail of their Rights and the Encroachments that have been made thereon. They are sensible of your Lordship's Interest with his Majesty and the Ministry, and they humbly petition for your Favour and happy Influence in their Behalf.
Without Papers, I replied, or any Inducement save that of your own Request, let me but know what I am to do, and I shall think myself truely honoured and obliged by your Commands.
My Lord, he rejoined, I do not wish to betray you into any mistaken or unmerited Complaisance. I am but a Trader, a Citizen of the lower Order.
I now felt myself blush with Shame and Disappointment; I resented my being deceived by the Dignity of his Appearance; and I was more particularly piqued by the sarcastical kind of Smile with which he closed his Declaration. All confused, I looked down, and pretended to cast my Eye over the Paper, in order to gain Time for Recollection. Having, at Intervals, muttered a few Words, such as Charters, Grants, Privileges, Immunities, and so forth. I am not, said I, an Enemy to the lower Ranks of Men; poor People must live, and their Service, as well as Subordination is necessary to Society; but I confess I was always fond of those sumptuary Laws that confined the Degrees of Men to their respective Departments, and prevented Mechanics from confounding themselves with Gentlemen.
My Lord, says he, with the most easy and provoking Unconcern, when you shall be pleased to look down from the Superiority of your Station, and to consider Things and Persons according to their Merits, you will not despise Some, merely for being of use to Others. The Wealth, Prosperity, and Importance of all this World is founded and erected on three living Pillars, the TILLER of the Ground, the MANUFACTURER and the MERCHANT. Of these, the Tiller is supposed to be the least respectable, as he requires the least of Genius, Invention, or Address; and yet the Plowman
Triptolemus
was worshipped as a God; and the Plowman
Cincinnatus
is still held in as high Esteem as any Peer of any Realm, save that of
Great-Britain.
I have known, said I, a Mob of such Gods and Dictators somewhat dangerous at Times. I must be free to tell you, Mister, that Matters are much changed since Princesses kept Sheep, and the Sons of Kings were Cow-herds. The Ranks and Orders of Men are now appointed and known, and one Department must not presume to break in upon the other. My Baker, Barber, Brewer, Butcher, Hatter, Hosier, and Taylor, are, unquestionably, of Use, though I have not the Honour of being acquainted with one of them. And, hitherto, I have deemed it sufficient to send my Servants to entertain and pay them their Bills, without admitting them to a Tete a Tete, as at present.
He now rejoined, with a little Warmth. My Lord, we pardon your Indelicacy, in consideration of your Error. The venerable Body, now present, might be admitted to a Tete a Tete with the first Estate of this Kingdom, without any Condescension on the Part of Majesty. And, would you allow yourself to be duely informed, I should soon make you sensible that we have actually done you the Honour which we intended by this Visit.
Permit me to repeat that the Wealth, Prosperity, and Importance of every Thing upon Earth arises from the TILLER, the MANUFACTURER and the MERCHANT; and that, as nothing is truely estimable, save in Proportion to its utility, these are, consequently, very far from being contemptible Characters. The Tiller supplies the Manufacturer, the Manufacturer supplies the Merchant, and the Merchant supplies the World with all its Wealth. It is thus that Industry is promoted, Arts invented and improved, Commerce extended, Superfluities mutually vended, Wants mutually supplied, that each Man becomes a useful Member of Society, that Societies become further of Advantage to each other, and that States are enabled to pay and dignify their upper Servants with Titles, rich Revenues, Principalities and Crowns.
The Merchant, above all, is extensive, considerable, and respectable by his Occupation. It is he who furnishes every Comfort, Convenience, and Elegance of Life; who carries off every Redundance, who fills up every Want; who ties Country to Country, and Clime to Clime, and brings the remotest Regions to Neighbourhood and Converse; who makes Man to be literally the Lord of the Creation, and gives him an Interest in whatever is done upon Earth; who furnishes to each the Product of all Lands, and the Labours of all Nations; and thus knits into one Family and weaves into one Web the Affinity and Brotherhood of all Mankind.
I have no Quarrel, I cried, to the high and mighty my Lords the Merchants, if each could be humbly content with the Profits of his Profession, without forming themselves into Companies, exclusive of their Brethren, our itinerant Merchants and Pedlars. I confess myself an Enemy to the Monopolies of your chartered Companies and City Corporations; and I can perceive no evil Consequence, to the Public or the State, if all such Associations were this Instant dissolved.
Permit me, he mildly replied, once for all, to set your Lordship right in this Matter. I am sensible that the Gentlemen of large landed Properties are apt to look upon themselves as the Pillars of the State, and to consider their Interests and the Interests of the Nation, as very little beholden or dependent on Trade; though the Fact is, that those very Gentlemen would lose nine Parts in ten of their yearly Returns, and the Nation nine Tenths of her yearly Revenues, if Industry and the Arts, (promoted as I said by Commerce) did not raise the Products of Lands to tenfold their natural Value. The Manufacturer, on the other Hand, depends on the landed Interest for nothing save the material of his Craft; and the Merchant is wholely independent of all Lands, or rather he is the general Patron thereof. I must further observe, to your Lordship, that this beneficent Profession is by no means confined to Individuals, as you would have it. Large Societies of Men, nay mighty Nations may and have been Merchants. When Societies incorporate, for such a worthy Purpose, they are formed as a Foetus within the Womb of the Mother, a Constitution within the general State or Constitution; their particular Laws and Regulations ought, always, to be conformable to those of the National System; and, in that Case, such Corporations greatly conduce to the Peace and good Order of Cities and large Towns, and to the general Power and Prosperity of the Nation.
A Nation that is a Merchant has no need of an Extent of Lands, as it can derive to itself Subsistance from all Parts of the Globe.
Tyre
was situated in a small Island on the Coast of
Phaenicia,
and yet that single City contained the most flourishing, opulent, and powerful Nation in the Universe; a Nation that long withstood the united Forces of the three first Monarchies, brought against her by
Nebuchadnezar
and
Alexander
the Great.
The seven united Provinces do not contain Lands sufficient for the Subsistance of one Third of their Inhabitants; but they are a Nation of Merchants; the World furnishes them with an Abundance of all good Things; by Commerce they have arrived at Empire; they have assumed to themselves the Principality of the Ocean; and, by being Lords of the Ocean, are in a Measure become the Proprietors of all Lands.
Should
England
ever open her Eyes to her own Interests, she will follow the same prosperous and ennobling Profession; she will conform to the Consequences of her Situation. She will see that, without a Naval Pre-eminence, she cannot be safe; and, without Trade, that her Naval Power cannot be supported. Her Glory will also flow from this sure Source of her Interests, and a Sail-yard will become the highest Scepter of her Dignity. She will then find that a single Triumph of her Flag will be more available, for her Prosperity, than the Conquest of the four Continents; that her Pre-eminence, by Sea, will carry and diffuse her Influence over all Lands; and, that universal Influence is universal Dominion.
Avarice, my Lord, may pile; Robbery may plunder; new Mines may be opened; hidden Treasures may be discovered; Gamesters may win Cash; Conquerors may win Kingdoms; but all such Means of acquiring Riches are transient and determinable. While Industry and Commerce are the natural, the living, the never failing Fountains, from whence the Wealth of this World can alone be taught to flow.
And can you, cried I, have the Effrontery, to insinuate a Preference, of yourself and your fellow Cits, to our
British
Nobles and Princes, who derive their Powers and Dignities from the steadfast Extent of their landed Possessions? Was it by Barter and Bargain that our
Edwards
and
Henrys
atchiev'd their Conquests on the Continent? or was it by Pedlars and Mechanics, think you, that the Fields of
Cressi,
of
Poictiers,
and
Agincourt
are rendered immortal? Go, I continued, seek elsewhere for Redress of your insignificant Grievances; we give little to sturdy Beggars, but nothing to saucy Rivals.
Wholely kindled by this Invective, he cast on me a fierce and menacing Regard; and, with a severe Accent, and a side Glance that shot Fire; when Courtiers (says he) acquire Common-Sense, and that Lords shall have learned to behave themselves like Gentlemen, I may do such a one the Honour to acknowledge him for a Brother.
Your Brother! exclaimed Mr.
Meekly,
your Brother, my Lord ?    Yes, Mr.
Meekly,
my Brother, my amiable, my very amiable and honourable Brother, indeed. But, turning contemptuously from me, he instantly departed with his attending Citizens.
I ought to have followed, I ought to have staid him. I should have fallen upon his Neck. With my Tears and Carresses I should have wrung a Pardon from him, and not have suffered him to leave me till by my Submissons I had obtained full Forgiveness. This, indeed, was my first Emotion. But the Recollection of my long and unnatural Neglect, my utter Disregard of his Person and Concerns, now aggravated by my late Insults, persuaded me that a Reconciliation, on his Part, was impossible.
I remained disconcerted, and greatly disturbed I felt with what Pride and Transport I should now have acknowledged, have courted, have clasped this Brother to my Bosom; but my Fancy represented him as Ice in my Arms, as shrinking and turning from me with Disgust and Disdain. At Times, I formed a hundred Schemes toward recovering his Affections; but again, rejecting these as ineffectual, I endeavoured to console myself for his Loss, by considering his late Demeanour as exceeding faulty, and expressive of a Disposition insufferably proud and overbearing. My Heart, indeed, acknowledged how very lovely he was in his Person; but the Superiority of his Talents, and the Refinement of his Manners, gave him a Distinction that was not altogether so grateful.
All Day I kept my Apartment, in Displeasure, at my Brother, myself, and the World. The next Morning I was informed that, the Moment he left me, he went to the Minister, who engaged, at his Instance, to have every Grievance that he complained of redressed to their extent. That the Minister had, afterwards, introduced him to his Majesty in full Levee, that the King held him in long and familiar Conversation, and that all the Court was profuse of their Admiration and Praises of Mr.
Clinton.
This, also, was fresh Matter of Triumph to him, and Mortification to me. It was now evident that my Brother's Application to me was intended, merely, to do me peculiar Honour; and, in Return, said I to myself, I have endeavoured to cover him with Confusion and Disgrace. Yet, when I understood that he had disdained to mention me as his Brother, or of his Blood; I also scorned to derive Lustre from any Claim of Affinity with him; and I further felt that I could not forgive him the Reproaches which he constrained me to give myself in his behalf.
From that Time, I took great Pains to dissipate or suppress those uneasy Sensations which the Remembrance of him gave me. But, after I had married and retired from the Glare and Bustle of the World; and, more particularly, on the Birth of my first Child, when my Heart had entered into a new Sphere of domestic Feelings, this dear Brother returned with double Weight upon my Mind. Yet his Idea was no longer accompanied by Envy or Resentment, but by an affectionate and sweet, though paining, Remorse.
I wrote him a Letter full of penitential Submissions, and of tender and atoning Prayers for Pardon and Reconcilement. But, alas, my Messenger returned with Tidings that, some Years past, he had withdrawn from Trade, had retired to
France
or
Holland,
had dropped all Correspondence, and that no one in
England
knew whether he was dead or alive.
Ah, my Brother, my dear Brother! (I would often repeat to myself) has any Reverse of Fortune happened to you, my Brother? Perhaps some domestic Calamity; some heavy Distress, no doubt! and no Brother at Hand to console or share your Afflictions. Return to me, divide my Heart, divide my Fortune with me and mine! Alas, Wretch that I am, you know not yet that you have a Brother, one deserving of that Name. You know not that this Bosom of Flint is now humanized, and melted down in the Fervour of Affection toward you. You hate me, you despise me, my amiable Brother! How, how shall I make you sensible that my Heart is full of your Image, of Esteem, of tenderest Love for my lovely
Harry Clinton?
I, again, sent other Messengers in search of Intelligence, I procured Letters to the Bankers and Merchants of principal Note abroad; but all my Solicitudes and Enquiries were equally fruitless.
The Grief, that this occasioned, first taught me to reflect, and cast a Shade over the Lustre of every Object about me. The World no more appeared as that World which, formerly, had held out Happiness to either Hand. I no longer beheld it thro' the Perspectives of Curiosity or youthful Desire; I had worn out all its Gayeties; I had exhausted all its Delights, for me it had nothing more to promise, or bestow; and yet I saw no better Prospect, no other Resource.
Should I turn to Religion, a little Observation taught me that the Devotees, themselves, were warm in pursuit of Objects, of which I was tired; that they were still subject to the Passions and Desires of the World; and were no way to be distinguished from other Men, save by an unsociable Reserve, or gloomy Cast of Countenance.
May I venture to confess to you, Mr.
Meekly,
that, at Times of my Despondence, I dared to call the Justice and Wisdom of Omnipotence into question. Take this World, (said I to myself) consider it as it seems to stand, independent of any other, and no one living can assign a single End, or Purpose, for which it could be made. Men are even as their Fellow-Insects; they rise to Life, exert their Lineaments, and flutter abroad during the Summer of their little Season; then droop, die away, and are succeeded, and succeeded in an insignificant Rotation. Even the firmest human Establishments, the best laboured Systems of Policy, can scarce boast a nobler Fate, or a longer Duration; the mightiest States and Nations perish, like Individuals; in one Leaf we read their History, we admire their Achievements, we are interested in their Successes, but, proceed to the next, and no more than a Name is left; the
Ninevehs
and
Babylons
of
Asia
are fallen, the
Sparta
and
Athens
of
Greece
are no more; and the Monuments that promised to endure to Eternity, are erased like the Mount of Sand which, Yesterday, the Children cast up on the Shore.
When I behold this stupendous Expanse, so sumptuously furnished with a Profusion of Planets, and Luminaries, revolving in appointed Courses, and diversifying the Seasons; I see a Work that is altogether worthy of a God. Again, when I descend to Earth, and look abroad upon the infinite Productions of Nature, upon Provisions so amply answering to the Wants of every living Being, and on Objects and Organs so finely fitted to each other, I trace a complicated Maze of Wisdom, Bounty, and Benevolence. But, when I see all these Beauties and Benefits counteracted by some adverse and destructive Principle; when the Heavens gather their Clouds and roll their Thunders above, and the Earth begins to quake and open beneath us; when the Air, that seemed so late to be the Breath and Balm of Life, grows pregnant with a Variety of Pests, Plagues and Poisons; when Life itself is found to be no other than the Store-house or Habitation of Death, and that all vegetable and animal Systems include within their Frame, the Principles of inevitable Distemper and Dissolution: When additional to all these natural Mischiefs, I consider the Extent and Empire of moral Evil upon Earth; when I behold the wretched perishable short lived Animal, called Man, for the Value of some Matter of Property as transient as himself, industrious and studious of the Destruction of his Species; when, not content with the Evils that Nature has entailed upon him, Man exerts all his Talents for multiplying and speeding the Means of Perdition to Man; when I see half the World employed in pushing the other Half from the Verge of Existence, and then dropping after in an endless Succession of Malevolence and Misery; I cannot possibly reconcile such Contrasts and Contradictions to the Agency, or even Permission, of the one over ruling Principle of Goodness called GOD.
Could not Omniscience foresee such Consequences, at Creation? Unquestionably, said Mr.
Meekly.
Might he not have ordered Matters so, as to have prevented the Possibility of any Degree of natural or moral Evil in his Universe ?    I think he might, my Lord.    Why did he not, then, prevent them? to what End could he permit such multiplied Malevolence and Misery among his Creatures ?    For Ends, certainly my Lord, infinitely worthy both of his Wisdom and his Goodness.    I am desirous it should be so; but cannot conceive, cannot reach the Way or Means of compassing such an Intention.
Can you not suppose, said Mr.
Meekly,
that Evil may be admitted for accomplishing the greater and more abundant Good? May not partial and temporary Malevolence and Misery be finally productive of universal, durable, and unchangeable Beatitude? May not the Universe, even now, be in the Pangs of Travail, of Labour for such a Birth, such a blessed Consummation?
It were, rejoined the Earl, as our
Shakespeare
says, it were indeed a Consummation devoutly to be wished. But, might not Omnipotence have brought about a Consummation equally good, without any Intervention of preceding Evil ?     Had that been possible, my Lord, it would unquestionably have been effected. But if certain Relations arise between God and his Creatures, and between Man and Man which could not arise save on the previous Supposition of Evil, without which, indeed, neither the Attributes of God himself, nor the Insufficiency, Dependance, or Obligation of the Creature could have been duely discoverable throughout Eternity, then temporary Evil becomes indispensably necessary to the Consequence and Consummation of the greatest Good.
Your Notion, exclaimed the Earl, is great, amazing, truely glorious, and every Way worthy of a God who, in such a Case, would be infinitely worthy of all Worship! Is this the Reason, Mr.
Meekly,
that what we all so earnestly seek for is no where to be found, that no Portion or Taste of Happiness is to be had upon Earth?
I do not say so, my Lord; I think that a Man, even on Earth, may be occasionally, nay durably, and exceedingly happy.
What, happy? durably, exceedingly happy? repeated the Earl. I was told that the Experience of Ages, that Philosophy and even Divinity had agreed with
Solomon
in this, that all upon Earth was Vanity and Vexation of Spirit. If any may enjoy Happiness, on this Side of the great Consummation that you speak of, I am persuaded, Mr.
Meekly,
that you yourself are the Man. Your Lips indeed say nothing of the Matter, but neither your Eyes nor your Aspect can restrain
the Expression of some extraordinary Peace that abides within.
O, say then, my dear, my estimable Friend, whence, how, by what Means may a Man arrive at Happiness ?    By getting out of himself, my Lord.
Out of himself, Mr.
Meekly!
you astonish me greatly. A Contradiction in Terms, unnatural, impossible !    God, himself, my Lord, cannot make a Man Happy in any other Way, either here, or hereafter.
It is, said the Earl, an established Maxim among all thinking Men, whether Divines or Philosophers, that SELF-LOVE is the Motive to all human Actions. Virtue forbid! exclaimed Mr.
Meekly;
all Actions are justly held, good or evil, base or honourable, detestable or amiable, merely according to their Motives. But, if the Motive is the same to all, there is an End, at once, to the Possibility of Virtue; the Cruel and the Kind, the Faithful and the Perfidious, the Prostitute and the Patriot are confounded together.
Do not all Men, returned the Earl, act agreeable to their own Propensities and Inclinations? do they not Act so or so, merely because it pleases them so to act? and is not this Pleasure the same Motive in all ?    By no Means, my Lord, it never was nor can be the Motive in any. We must go a Question deeper, to discover the secret Principle or Spring of Action. One Man is pleased to do Good, another is pleased to do Evil; now, whence is it that each is pleased with Purposes in their Nature so opposite and irreconcilable? Because, my Lord, that the Propensities or Motives to Action, in each, are as opposite and irreconcilable as the Actions themselves; the one is prompted and therefore pleased with his Purpose of doing Evil to others, through some base Prospect of Interest redounding to himself; the other is prompted and spurred, and therefore pleased with his Purpose of endangering his Person or suffering in his Fortune, through the benevolent Prospect of the Good that shall thereby redound to Others.
Pleasure is, itself, an Effect, and cannot be the Cause, or Pinciple, or Motive to any Thing; it is an agreeable Sensation that arises, in any Animal, on its meeting or contemplating an Object that is suited to its Nature. As far as the Nature of such an Animal is evil, evil Objects can alone affect it with Pleasure; as far as the Nature of such an Animal is good, the Objects must be good whereby its Pleasures are excited.
When
Damon
was sentenced, by
Dionysius
of
Syracuse,
to die on such a Day; he prayed Permission, in the Interim, to retire to his own Country, to set the Affairs of his disconsolate Family in order. This the Tyrant intended most peremptorily to refuse, by granting it, as he conceived, on the impossible Conditions of his procuring some one to remain, as Hostage for his Return, under equal Forfeiture of Life.
Pythias
heard the Conditions, and did not wait for an Application on the Part of
Damon,
he instantly offered himself to Durance in the Place of his Friend, and
Damon
was accordingly set at Liberty.
The King and all his Courtiers were astonished at this Action, as they could not account for it on any allowed Principles. Self-Interest, in their judgement, was the sole Mover of human Affairs; and they looked on Virtue, Friendship, Benevolence, Love of Country, and the like, as Terms invented by the Wise to impose upon the Weak. They, therefore, imputed this Act of
Pythias
to the Extravagance of his Folly, to the Defect of Head, merely, and no way to any Virtue or good Quality of Heart.
When the Day of the destined Execution drew near, the Tyrant had the Curiosity to visit
Pythias
in his Dungeon. Having reproached him for the romantic Stupidity of his Conduct, and rallied him, some Time, on his Madness in presuming that
Damon,
by his Return, would prove as great a Fool as himself; my Lord, said
Pythias,
with a firm Voice and noble Aspect, I would it were possible that I might suffer a thousand Deaths, rather than my Friend should fail in any Article of his Honour. He cannot fail therein, my Lord. I am as confident of his Virtue as I am of my own Existence. But, I pray, I beseech the Gods to preserve the Life and Integrity of my
Damon
together. Oppose him, ye Winds! prevent the Eagerness and Impatience of his honourable Endeavours! and suffer him not to arrive till, by my Death, I have redeemed a Life, a thousand Times of more Consequence, more Estimation, than my own, more estimable to his lovely Wife, to his precious little Innocents, to his Friends, to his Country. O, leave me not to die the worst of Deaths in my
Damon!
Dionysius
was confounded and awed by the Dignity of these Sentiments, and by the Manner, (still more sentimental) in which they were uttered; he felt his Heart struck by a slight Sense of invading Truth, but it served rather to perplex than to undeceive him. He hesitated, he would have spoken, but he looked down, and retired in Silence.
The fatal Day arrived.
Pythias
was brought forth, and walked, amidst the Guard, with a serious but satisfied Air, to the Place of Execution.
Dionysius
was already there. He was exalted on a moving Throne that was drawn by six white Horses, and sat pensive and attentive to the Demeanour of the Prisoner.
Pythias
came. He vaulted lighty on the Scaffold; and, beholding for some Time the Apparatus of his Death, he turned with a pleased Countenance and addressed the Assembly.
My Prayers are heard, he cried, the Gods are propitious! You know, my Friends, that the Winds have been contrary till Yesterday.
Damon
could not come, he could not conquer Impossibilities; he will be here To-morrow, and the Blood which is shed to Day shall have ransomed the Life of my Friend. O, could I erase, from your Bosoms, every Doubt, every mean Suspicion of the Honour of the Man, for whom I am about to suffer; I should go to my Death, even as I would to my Bridal. Be it sufficient, in the mean Time, that my Friend will be found noble, that his Truth is unimpeachable, that he will speedily approve it, that he is now on his Way, hurrying on, accusing himself, the adverse Elements, and the Gods. But I haste to prevent his Speed; Executioner, to your Office!
As he pronounced the last Words, a Buzz began to arise among the remotest of the People. A distant Voice was heard. The crowd caught the Words; and, stop, stop the Execution! was repeated by the whole Assembly.
A Man came at full Speed. The Throng gave way to his Approach. He was mounted on a Steed of Foam. In an Instant he was off his Horse, on the Scaffold, and held
Pythias
straitly embraced.
You are safe, he cried, you are safe, my Friend, my Beloved, the Gods be praised, you are safe! I now have nothing but Death to suffer, and I am delivered from the Anguish of those Reproaches which I gave myself, for having endangered a Life so much dearer than my own.
Pale, cold, and half Speechless in the Arms of his
Damon, Pythias
replied in broken Accents,  Fatal Haste !    cruel Impatience !    what envious Powers have wrought Impossibilities in your Favour ?    But, I will not be wholely disappointed  Since I cannot die to save, I will not survive you.
Dionysius
heard, beheld, and considered all with Astonishment. His Heart was touch'd. His Eyes were opened; and he could no longer refuse his assent to Truths so incontestably approved by their Facts.
He descended from his Throne. He ascended the Scaffold. Live, live ye incomparable Pair! he exclaimed. Ye have borne unquestionable Testimony to the Existence of Virtue, and that Virtue equally evinces the Certainty of the Existence of a God to reward it. Live happy, live renowned! and, O, form me by your Precepts, as ye have invited me by your Example, to be worthy of the Participation of so sacred a Friendship.
YOU bring your Arguments quite home, Mr.
Meekly,
said the Earl; the Understanding cannot reject what the Heart so sensibly feels. My Soul deeply acknowledges the Existence of Virtue, with its essential and inherent Difference from Vice, and this Difference, I acknowledge, must as necessarily be founded in the Difference of the Principles from whence they proceed; but, what those Principles are I know not; and I am equally a Stranger to what you intend by a Man's getting out of himself in order to Happiness. What am I to understand by the Term SELF, Mr.
Meekly.
Every Particle of Matter, my Lord, has a SELF or distinct Identity, inasmuch as it cannot be any other Particle of Matter. Now, while it continues in this its State of SELFISHNESS or absolute Distinction, it is utterly useless and insignificant, and is to the Universe as though it were not. It has however a Principle of
Attraction
(analogous or answerable to
Desire
in Mind) whereby it endeavours to derive to itself the Powers and Advantages of all other Portions of Matter. But when the DIVINE INTELLIGENCE hath harmonized certain Quantities of such distinct Particles into certain animal or vegetable Systems, this Principle of
Attraction
in each is overcome, for each becomes attracted and drawn as it were from SELF, each yields up its Powers to the Benefit of the Whole, and then, and then only, becomes capable and productive of Shape, Colouring, Beauty, Flowers, Fragrance, and Fruits.
Be pleased now to observe, my Lord, that this Operation in Matter is no other than a Manifestation of the like Process in Mind; and that no Soul was ever capable of any Degree of Virtue or Happiness save so far as it is drawn away, in its Affections, from SELF; save so far as it is engaged in wishing, contriving, endeavouring, promoting, and rejoicing in the Welfare and Happiness of others.
It is therefore that the Kingdom of Heaven is most aptly, and most beautifully, compared to a Tree bearing Fruit and diffusing Odours, whose Root is the PRINCIPLE of infinite Benevolence, and whose Braches are the blessed Members, receiving consummate Beatitude from the Act of Communication.
I think, indeed, said the Earl, that I can form some Sort of a Notion of such a Society in Heaven. But it would pose you, Mr.
Meekly,
to exemplify your Position from any Body of Men that ever were upon Earth.
Pray pardon me, my Lord, the States of
Sparta
and
Rome,
derived their Lustre and Power, their whole Preeminence and Praise, from this Principle of
Communication,
which, in them, was called
Love of Country.
But this beatifying Principle was still more eminently instanced in the Society of the Church of
Jerusalem,
who had all Things in common; who imparted their Possessions to all Men, as every Man had need; and, thence, did eat their common Bread with
Gladness and Singleness of Heart,
praising God, and having Favour with all People.
You say, my Lord, that you can form a Notion of some such Excellence in Heaven; but I can form no Notion of any Excellence more admirable, in Heaven itself, than when a Man, in his present State of frail and depraved Nature, overbears his personal Fears of Pain and Mortality, and yields up his Body to assured Perdition, for public Good, or for the sake of those whom it delighteth him to preserve.
I shall pass over the Instances of the Roman
Regulus
and the
Decii,
as also that of
Leonidas
and his three Hundred
Spartans
who devoted their Lives for the Liberties of
Greece;
was that Candidate less a Hero who, being rejected from being one of these Self-devoted, exclaimed, the Gods be praised that there are three Hundred, in
Sparta,
better Men than myself! But, I come nearer our own Times and our own Nation, to exemplify this Disregard of SELF, the vital Source and Principle of every Virtue, in six Mechanics or Craftsmen of the City of
Calais.
Edward
the Third, after the Battle of
Cressy,
laid Siege to
Calais.
He had fortified his Camp in so impregnable a Manner, that all the Efforts of
France
proved ineffectual to raise the Siege, or throw Succours into the City. The Citizens however, under the Conduct of Count
Vienne
their gallant governor, made an admirable Defence. Day after Day the
English
effected many a Breach which they repeatedly expected to storm by Morning; but, when Morning appeared, they wondered to behold new Ramparts raised, nightly erected out of the Ruins which the Day had made.
France
had now put the Sickle into her second Harvest since
Edward
with his victorious Army sat down before the Town. The Eyes of all Europe were intent on the Issue. The
English
made their Approaches and Attacks without Remission; but the Citizens were as obstinate in repelling all their Efforts.
At length, Famine did more for
Edward
than Arms. After the Citizens had devoured the lean Carcasses of their starved Cattle, they tore up old Foundations and Rubbish in search of Vermin. They fed on boiled Leather and the Weeds of exhausted Gardens, and a Morsel of damaged Corn was accounted Matter of Luxury.
In this Extremity they resolved to attempt the Enemy's Camp. They boldly sallied forth; the
English
joined Battle; and, after a long and desperate Engagement, Count
Vienne
was taken Prisoner; and the Citizens, who survived the Slaughter, retired within their Gates.
On the Captivity of the governor, the Command devolved upon
Eustace Saint Pierre,
the Mayor of the Town, a Man of mean Birth but of exalted Virtue.
Eustace
now found himself under the necessity of capitulating and offered to deliver, to
Edward,
the City, with all the Possessions and Wealth of the Inhabitants, provided he permitted them to depart with Life and Liberty.
As
Edward
had long since expected to ascend the Throne of
France,
he was exasperated, to the last Degree, against these People, whose sole Valour had defeated his warmest Hopes; he therefore determined to take an exemplary Revenge, though he wished to avoid the Imputation of Cruely. He answered, by Sir
Walter Mauny,
that they all deserved capital Punishment as obstinate Traitors to him, their true, and natural Sovereign. That, however, in his wonted Clemency, he consented to pardon the Bulk of the Plebeians, provided they would deliver up to him six of their principal Citizens, with Halters about their Necks, as Victims of due Atonement for that Spirit of Rebellion with which they had enflamed the vulgar Herd.
All the Remains of this desolate City were convened in the great Square, and, like Men arraigned at a Tribunal from whence there was no Appeal, expected with beating Hearts the Sentence of their Conqueror.
When Sir
Walter
had declared his Mesage, Consternation and pale Dismay was impressed on every Face. Each looked upon Death as his own inevitable Lot; for, how should they desire to be saved at the Price proposed? whom had they to deliver save Parents, Brothers, Kindred, or valiant Neighbours who had so often exposed their Lives in their Defence? To a long and dead Silence deep Sighs and Groans succeeded; till
Eustace St. Pierre,
getting up to a little Eminence, thus addressed the Assembly.
My Friends, we are brought to great Straits this Day. We must either submit to the Terms of our cruel and ensnaring Conqueror; or yield up our tender Infants, our Wives, and chaste Daughters to the bloody and brutal Lusts of the violating Soldiery.
We well know what the Tyrant intends, by his specious Offers of Mercy. It will not satiate his Vengeance to make us merely miserable, he would also make us criminal, he would make us contemptible; he will grant us Life on no Condition save that of our being unworthy of it.
Look about you, my Friends, and fix your Eyes on the Persons, whom you wish to deliver up as the Victims of your own Safety. Which of these would ye appoint to the Rack, the Axe, or the Halter? Is there any here who has not watched for you, who has not fought for you, who has not bled for you? Who, through the length of this inveterate Siege, has not suffered Fatigues and Miseries, a thousand Times worse than Death, that you and yours might survive to Days of Peace and Prosperity? Is it your Preservers, then, whom you would destine to Destruction? you will not, you cannot do it. Justice, Honour, Humanity make such a Treason impossible.
Where then is our Resource? is there any Expedient left, whereby we may avoid Guilt and Infamy on the one Hand, or the Desolation and Horrours of a sacked City on the other? there is, my Friends, there is one Expedient left; a gracious, an excellent, a Godlike Expedient! Is there any here to whom Virtue is dearer than Life? Let him offer himself an Oblation for the Safety of his People! He shall not fail of a blessed Approbation from that Power, who offered up his only Son for the Salvation of Mankind.
He spoke  but a universal Silence ensued. Each Man looked around for the Example of that Virtue and Magnanimity, in others, which all wished to approve in themselves, though they wanted the Resolution.
At length
Saint Pierre
resumed  
It had been base in me, my fellow Citizens to propose any Matter of Damage, to others, which I myself had not been willing to undergo in my own Person. But I held it ungenerous to deprive any Man of that Preference and Estimation which might attend a first Offer, on so signal an Occasion. For I doubt not but there are many here as ready, nay more zealous of this Martyrdom than I can be, however Modesty and the Fear of imputed Ostentation may withold them from being foremost in exhibiting their Merits.
Indeed, the Station, to which the Captivity of Lord
Vienne
has unhappily raised me, imparts a Right to be the first in giving my Life for your Sakes. I give it freely, I give it cheerfully; who comes next?
Your Son! exclaimed a Youth, not yet come to Maturity.   
Ah my Child! cried
Saint Pierre,
I am, then, twice sacrificed. --But, no --I have rather begotten thee a second Time. --Thy Years are few but full, my Son; the Victim of Virtue has reached the utmost Purpose and Goal of Mortality. Who next, my Friends? --This is the Hour of Heroes.
--Your Kinsman, cried
John D'Aire!
your Kinsman, cried
James Wissant!
your Kinsman, cried
Peter Wissant!
--Ah, exclaimed Sir
Walter Mauny,
bursting into Tears, why was I not a Citizen of
Calais?
The sixth Victim was still wanting, but was quickly supplied, by Lot, from Numbers who were now emulous of so ennobling an Example.
The Keys of the City were then delivered to Sir
Walter.
He took the six Prisoners into his Custody. He ordered the Gates to be opened, and gave Charge to his Attendants to conduct the remaining Citizens, with their Families, through the Camp of the
English.
Before they departed, however, they desired Permission to take their last Adieu of their Deliverers --What a Parting, what a Scene! They crowded with their Wives and Children about
Saint Pierre
and his fellow Prisoners. They embraced, they clung around, they fell prostrate before them. They groaned, they wept aloud; and the joint Clamour of their Mourning passed the Gates of the City and was heard throughout the Camp.
The
English,
by this Time, were apprised of what passed within
Calais.
They heard the Voice of Lamentation, and their Souls were touched with Compassion. Each of the Soldiers prepared a Portion of their own Victuals to welcome and entertain the half famished Inhabitants; and they loaded them with as much as their present Weakness was able to bear, in order to supply them with Sustenance by the Way.
At length,
Saint Pierre
and his fellow Victims appeared under the conduct of Sir
Walter
and a Guard. All the Tents of the
English
were instantly emptied. The Soldiers poured from all Parts, and arranged themselves on each Side, to behold, to contemplate, to admire this little Band of Patriots as they passed. They bowed down to them on all Sides. They murmured their applause of that Virtue which they could not but revere, even in Enemies. And they regarded those Ropes, which they had voluntarily assumed about their Necks, as Ensigns of greater Dignity than that of the British Garter.
As soon as they had reached the Presence,
Mauny!
says the Monarch, are these the principal Inhabitants of
Calais?
They are, says
Mauny,
they are not only the principal Men of
Calais,
they are the principal Men of
France,
my Lord, if Virtue has any Share in the Act of ennobling. Were they delivered peaceably, says
Edward;
was there no Resistance, no Commotion among the People? Not in the least, my Lord; the People would all have perished, rather than have delivered the least of these to your Majesty. They are Self-delivered, Self-devoted, and come to offer up their inestimable Heads as an ample Equivalent for the Ransom of Thousands.
Edward
was secretly piqued at this Reply of Sir
Walter,
but, he knew the Privilege of a British Subject, and suppressed his Resentment. Experience, says he hath ever shown that Lenity only serves to invite People to new Crimes. Severity, at Times, is indispensably necessary to deter Subjects into Submission by Punishment and Example. Go, he cried to an Officer, lead these Men to Execution. Your Rebellion, continued he, addressing himself to
Saint Pierre,
your Rebellion against me, the natural Heir of your Crown, is highly aggravated by your present Presumption and Affront of my Power.    We have nothing to ask of your Majesty, said
Eustace,
save what you cannot refuse us.    What is that ?    Your Esteem, my Lord, said
Eustace,
and went out with his Companions.
At this Instant, a Sound of Triumph was heard throughout the Camp. The Queen had just arrived, with a powerful Reinforcement of those gallant Soldiers, at the Head of whom she had conquered
Scotland,
and taken their King Captive.
Sir
Walter Mauny
flew to receive her Majesty, and briefly informed her of the Particulars respecting the six Victims.
As soon as She had been welcomed by
Edward
and his Court, She desired a private Audience. My Lord, said She, the Question I am to enter upon is not touching the Lives of a few Mechanics; it respects a Matter, more estimable than the Lives of all the Natives of
France,
it respects the Honour of the
English
Nation, it respects the Glory of my
Edward,
my Husband, my King.
You think you have sentenced Six of your Enemies to Death. No, my Lord, they have sentenced themselves, and their Execution would be the Execution of their own Orders, not the Orders of
Edward.
They have behaved themselves worthily, they have behaved themselves greatly, I cannot but respect, while I envy, while I hate them, for leaving us no Share in the Honour of this Action, save that of granting a poor and indispensable Pardon.
I admit they have deserved every Thing that is evil at your Hands. They have proved the most inveterate and efficacious of your Enemies. They, alone, have withstood the rapid Course of your Conquests, and have witheld from You the Crown to which You were born. Is it therefore that You would reward them? that you would gratify their Desires, that you would indulge their Ambition, and enwreath them with everlasting Glory and Applause?
But, if such a Death would exalt Mechanics over the Fame of the most illustrious Heroes, how would the Name of my
Edward,
with all his Triumphs and Honours be tarnished thereby! Would it not be said that Magnanimity and Virtue are grown odious in the Eyes of the Monarch of
Britain?
And that the Objects, whom he destines to the Punishment of Felons, are the very Men who deserve the Praise and Esteem of Mankind The Stage, on which they should suffer, would be to them a Stage of Honour, but a Stage of Shame to
Edward,
a Reproach to his Conquests, a dark and indelible Disgrace to his Name.
No, my Lord. Let us rather disappoint the saucy Ambition of these Burghers, who wish to invest themselves with Glory at our Expense. We cannot, indeed, wholely deprive them of the merit of a Sacrifice so nobly intended; but we may cut them short of their Desires; in the Place of that Death, by which their Glory would be consummate, let us bury them under Gifts, let us put them to Shame with Praises; we shall thereby defeat them of that popular Opinion which never fails to attend those who suffer in the Cause of Virtue.
I am convinced; you have prevailed; be it so, cryed
Edward,
prevent the Execution; have them instantly before us!
They came, when the Queen, with an Aspect and Accents diffusing Sweetness, thus bespoke them.
Natives of France, and Inhabitants of
Calais,
Ye have put us to vast Expense of Blood and Treasure in the Recovery of our just and natural Inheritance; but, you acted up to the best of an erroneous judgement, and we admire and honour in you that Valour and Virtue, by which we are so long kept out of our rightful Possessions.
You noble Burghers, you excellent Citizens! though you were tenfold the Enemies of our Person and our Throne, we can feel nothing, on our Part, save Respect and Affection for You. You have been sufficiently tested. We loose your Chains, we snatch You from the Scaffold; and we thank You for that Lesson of Humiliation which you teach us, when you show us that Excellence is not of Blood, of Title, or Station; that Virtue gives a Dignity superior to that of Kings; and that Those, whom the Almighty informs with Sentiments like yours, are justly and eminently raised above all human Distinctions.
You are now free to depart to your Kinsfolk, your Countrymen, to all Those whose Lives and Liberties You have so nobly redeemed, provided you refuse not to carry with You the due Tokens of our Esteem.
Yet, we would rather bind You, to ourselves, by every endearing Obligation; and for this Purpose, we offer to You your Choice of the Gifts and Honours that
Edward
has to bestow. Rivals for Fame, but always Friends to Virtue, we wish that
England
were entitled to call You her Sons.
Ah my Country, exclaimed
Saint Pierre,
it is now that I tremble for You.
Edward
could only win your Cities, but
Philippa
conquers Hearts.
Brave
Saint Pierre,
said the Queen, wherefore look you so dejected ?    Ah Madam! replied
Saint Pierre,
when I meet with such another Opportunity of dying, I shall not regret that I survived this Day.
Here a long Pause ensued. At length the Earl recollected himself. Mr.
Meekly,
sais he, You have now proved to me your Position more effectually, more convincingly, than all the Powers of Ratiocination could possibly do. While you related the Story of those divine Citizens, I was imperceptibly stolen away and won entirely from Self. I entered into all their Interests, their Passions, and Affections; and was wrapt, as it were, into a new World of delightful Sensibilites. Is this what you call Virtue, what you call Happiness?
A good deal of it, my Lord. There are in Nature but two Kinds of Self; in other Words, there are but two Sorts of Wills in the Universe; the Will of infinite Wisdom, of infinite Benevolence, going forth in Beauty and Beatitude on all Creatures; And the Will of the Creature, desiring, attracting, envying, coveting, and rending all Things, from All, to its own Interest and Advantage. In the first Will subsists all possible Good, from the Second arises all possible Evil; and did not the first Will, in some Measure, inform and meliorate the Second, the Will of every Creature would be an
Ishmael,
his Hand would be against every One, and every One's Hand against him, and there would be nothing but Strife and Distraction, Hatred, Horrour, and Misery throughout the Creation.
Hence it follows that, as there is but one Will, from Eternity, infinitely wise to discern what is best throughout the Universe, infinitely good to desire the Accomplishment of what is best, and infinitely powerful to put what is best in Execution; every Will that is not informed by this ONE WILL, must of necessity act in Ignorance, in Blindness, and Error. I will further affirm that every Act of every Will, that is not informed by the ONE WILL of GOODNESS must, of equal necessity, be the Act of Malevolence.
I do not see the necessity of that, replied the Earl. I well perceive that God can give to intelligent Beings an Existence or Identity distinct from himself, for I see that he has done it. What should therefore prevent him from giving Qualities as distinct from himself as the Essence? why might he not impart, to any limited Degree, Capacity, Discernment, Power, Wisdom, and Goodness? Might not such a Being instantly perceive, to a vast Extent, the Relations of Things, with their several Fitnesses and Disagreements? would he not consequently be enamoured of what was right and beautiful? would he not act agreeable to such a just Approbation? and would not such Actions be fitly accounted the Act of Virtue?
At this Instant a Messenger arrived on the Spur. He brought word to Mr.
Meekly
that his Friend, Mr.
Husbands,
was taken suddenly ill and earnestly requested to see him directly; whereupon Mr.
Meekly,
who preferred any Matter of Charity to all other Considerations, immediately got up, made a silent Bow and vanished.
TO RETURN to our Hero. As soon as he was new rigged, he pressed for another Visit to his Patron; who received him, with accustomed Tenderness, but greatly wondered at his Peasant Dress. Nurse, then, recited to him the whole Adventure of the frittered Robeings. Whereat, the old Gentleman, in a manner devoured him with the Eagerness of his Caresses.
When Nurse and
Harry
were departed, he called to him his old Domestic.
James,
says he, with a Tear yet standing in his Eye, I can no longer live without the Company of this dear Child, hasten, therefore, the Orders that I have already given you, and let all Things be in Readiness for the first Opportunity. The Domestic, who had caught the filent Habit of his Master, with a Bow, assented, and retired.
Autumn
was now advanced, and Lord
Dickey,
with his Brother, a Number of little Associates, and an attending Footman, got leave to go to the Copse, a Nutting. As the Children were perfectly acquainted with the Way, the Servant desired to stay behind, a while, in order to provide Hooks for pulling down the Branches. This was granted; and forth they all issued in high Chat and Spirits.
The Copse lay, at some Distance, on one Side of the Park behind the Mansion-House; but, when they had nearly approached the Place of their Destination,
Harry
missed a Garter, and, promising speedily to rejoin his Companions, went back to seek it.
In the mean Time, his Associates, on entering the Wood, met with another little Posse of the Village Fry, who were on their Return, one of whom carried a Bag of Nuts that seemed bulkier than the Bearer. So, Gentlemen, says Lord
Dickey,
where are you going? Why, Home, where should we go? says a little Boor, sullenly. And, pray, what have you been doing, says the Lord. Guess, says the Boor. Is it Nuts that you have got in that Bag? demanded the Lord. Ask, To-morrow; answered the Boor. Sirrah, sais
Dickey,
a little provoked, how dare you to come and pull Nuts here, without our Leave? Why, as for that, Master
Dickey,
replied the other, I know you well enough, and I wouldn't ask your Leave, an' you were twenty Lords, not I. Sirrah, says
Dickey,
I have a great Mind to take your Nuts from you, and to give you as good a Beating, into the Bargain, as ever you got in your Life. As for that, Master
Dickey,
coolly answered the Villager, you must do Both or Neither. Here I lay down my Nuts between us; and now come any Two of your Watergruel Regiment, one down the other come on, and if I don't give ye your Belly fulls, why, then, take my Nuts, and welcome, to make up the Want.
This gallant Invitation was accepted, on the Spot. Lord
Richard
chose his Companion in Arms; and Both appeared quite flush and confident of Victory. For, though neither of them had been versed in the Gymnastic Exercises, they didn't want Courage and they knew that the Challenger was their Inferior in Strength and in Years.
But, unhappily for these two Champions of Quality,
Tommy Truck,
their Adversary, had, like
Harry,
been a Bruiser, from two Years old and upward; and was held, in Veneration, as their Leader, and their Chief, by many who were his Superiors in Age and Stature.
Lord
Richard
began the Assault, but, was down in a Twinkling. To him his Friend succeeded, but, with no better Fortune. A Swing or Trip of
Tommy
's sent them, instantly, as
Alcides
sent
Antaeus,
to gather Strength from their Mother-Earth. And, though these Summer Heroes, like the young Roman Nobility at the Battle of
Pharsalia,
were solely intent on defending their pretty Faces from Annoyance, yet
Tommy,
at the third Turn, had bloodied them, Both.
Harry,
who was now on his Return, perceived the Engagement, and, running up, and, rushing between the Combatants, interposed, with a Voice of Authority, and parted the Fray.
Having enquired, and duly informed himself of the Merits of the Case, he, first turned him to Lord
Richard,
and said, O, Brother
Dickey,
Brother
Dickey,
you ought not to hinder poor Boys from pulling a few dirty Nuts, what signifies 'em? Then, turning to the Challenger; his old Acquaintance;
Tommy,
says he, did you know that
Dickey
was my Brother? Yes, says
Tommy,
rudely, and what though' of I did. O, nothing at all, says
Harry,
but I want to speak with you,
Tommy.
Whereupon he took the Conqueror under the Arm, and walked away, with him, very lovingly, in all Appearance, looking about to take Care that none of the Boys followed him.
Mean Time, the little Gentry threw out their Invectives, in Profusion, against our departed Hero. I think, says one, that Master
Harry
had as much to blame in
Tommy
as Lord
Dickey.
Ay, says another, one would think he might as well have taken his Brother's Part, as that Blackguard's. Indeed, it was very naughty of him, says a Third. For my Part, says a Fourth, I never will have any Thing more to say to him.
While, thus, they vilified their late Friend, he and his fellow Champion walked, Arm in Arm, in a sullen and uninterrupted Silence. Till, coming to a small Opening, in a secreted Part of the Wood,
Harry
quitted his Companion, desired him to strip, and, instantly, cast aside his own Hat, Coat, and Waistcoat. Why should I strip, says
Tommy?
To Box, says
Harry.
Why should you box with me,
Harry?
sure I didn't strike you, says
Tom.
Yes, Sir, replied our Hero, you struck me when you struck
Dickey,
and knew that he was my Brother. Nay,
Harry,
cried
Tom,
if it's Fight you are for, I'll give you enough of it, I warrant you.
Tom
was about eight Months older than
Harry,
his equal in the Practice of Arms, and much the stronger. But,
Harry
was full as tall; and his Motions, quicker than Thought, prevented the Ward of the most experienced Adversary.
Together they rushed, like two little Tigers. At once, they struck and parried, and, watching every open, they darted their little Fists, like Engines, at each other. But
Tom,
marking the Quickness, and feeling the Smart of
Harry
's Strokes, suddenly leaped within his Arm, bore him down to the Earth, and triumphantly gave him the first rising Blow.
Harry
rose, indignant, but warned, by the Strength of his Adversary, to better Caution. He now fought, more aloof, and as
Tom
pressed upon him, he at once guarded, struck, and wheel'd, like an experienced Cock, without quitting the Pit of Honour.
Tom,
finding himself wholely foiled by this
Parthian
Method of Combat, again rush'd upon his Enemy, who was, now, aware of the Shock. They closed, they grappled, they caught each other by the Shoulders, joined Head to Head, and Breast to Breast, and stood, like two Pillars, merely supported by their Bearing against one another. Again they shifted the left Arm, caught each other about the Neck, and cuffed and punch'd at Face and Stomach, without Mercy or Remission; till
Tom,
impatient of this Length of Battle, gave
Harry
a side Swing, and,
Harry
giving
Tom
a Trip at the same Time, they fell Side by Side, together upon the Earth.
They rose, and retreated, to draw Breath, as by mutal Consent. They glared on one another with an Eye of vindictive Apprehension. For neither of them could now boast of more Optics than
Poliphemus;
and, from their Forehead to their Shoes, they were in one Gore of Blood.
Again they flew upon each other, again they struck, foined, and defended, and alternately, pressed on and retreated in Turns, till
Harry,
spying an Open, darted his Fist, like a Shot, into the remaining Eye of his Enemy.
Tom,
finding himself in utter Darkness, instantly, sprung upon his Foe, and endeavoured to grapple; but
Harry,
with equal Agility, avoided the Shock, and, traversing here and there beat his Adversary at Pleasure. Till
Tom
cried out, I yield I yield,
Harry,
for I can't see to fight, any more.
Then,
Harry
took
Tom
by the Hand and led him to his clothes, and, having assisted him to dress, he, next, did the same friendly Office to himself. Then, Arm in Arm, they returned much more loving, in reality, than they set out, having been beaten into a true Respect and Affection for each other.
Sometime before this, the Footman had joined his young Lord, with the several Implements requisite for Nutting. They had, already, pulled down great Quantities; the young Quality had stuffed their Pockets; and the little Plebeians, who had assisted, were now permitted to be busie in gathering up the Refuse. When all, turning at the Cry of there's
Harry,
there's
Tom,
they perceived our two Champions, advancing, leisurely, but Hand in Hand, as Friends and Brothers.
They had left their clothes unbuttoned, for the Benefit of the cooling Air; and, as they approached, their Companions were frozen into Astonishment, at the Sight of their two Friends all covered with Crimson.
They were neither able to advance to meet them, nor to speak, when they arrived. 'Till Lord
Dickey,
first, inquired into this bloody Catastrophe, and,
Harry
remaining wholely silent on the Subject; blind
Tommy
cried out, why, Master
Dickey,
the Truth is, that
Harry,
beat me, because I beat You. Then
Dickey,
feeling a sudden Gush of Gratitude and Affection rising up in his Bosom, looked wistfully on his Brother, and said, with a plaintive Voice, O Brother
Harry,
Brother
Harry,
you are sadly hurt; and, turning about, he began to weep most bitterly. But
Harry
said, Shaw! Brother
Dickey,
don't cry Man, I don't matter it of the Head of a brass Pin. Then turning to the Footman, with
Tom
still in his Hand, he cried, here
John,
take that Bag of Nuts and poor blind
Tommy
to my Mammy's, and tell Daddy that I desire him to see them both safe home.
Sir, your Hero is indeed a Hero, he must be every body's Hero.
Sir, you do him vast Honour; and I should be proud of your further Instructions towards his supporting the Dignity of the Character you give him. Pray, what are the ingredient Qualities of which a Hero is compounded? what Idea have you formed of such a Personage? tell me, I beseech you, what is a Hero, my good Friend?
Pshaw !    what a Question  every Fool knows that.    A Hero is  as though one should say  a Man of high Achievement  who performs famous Exploits  who does Things that are heroical  and in all his Actions and Demeanour, is a Hero indeed  why do you laugh  I will give you the Instances approved throughout the World; recorded and duely celebrated by Poets, Painters, Sculptors, Statuaries, and Historians.    There was the Assyrian
Ninus,
the
Sesostris
of
Egypt,
the
Cyrus
of
Persia,
the
Alexander
of
Greece,
the
Caesar
of
Rome,
and, partly in our own Days, there was the
Conde
of
France,
the
Charles
of
Sweden,
and
Persia's Kouli Kan.
  What the plague does the Fellow laugh at?
I am laughing to think what a Blockhead
Themistocles
was. Being asked whom he considered as the greatest of Heroes; not him who conquers but who saves, replied
Themistocles;
not the Man who ruins but the Man who erects; who, of a Village can make a City, or turn a despicable People into a great Nation.
According to your Notion of Heroism, that Boor and Barbarian,
Peter Alexiowitz
of
Russia,
was the greatest Hero that ever lived.
True, my Friend; for, of a numerous People, he disembruted every one, except himself. But then, in all Equity, he ought to divide his Glory with
Kate
the Washerwoman, who humanized the Man that humanized a Nation.
Whom do you take to have been the greatest Hero of Antiquity?
Lycurgus,
without Comparison, the greatest of Heroes and the greatest of Legislators. In those very early Days, the People of
Lacedaemon
were extremely rude and ignorant; they acknowledged no Laws, save the Dictates of their own Will or the Will of their Rulers.
Lycurgus
might have assumed the Sceptre; but his Ambition aspired to a much more elevated and durable Dominion, over the Souls, Manners, and Conduct of this People and their Posterity. He framed a Body of the most extraordinary Institutions that ever enteredinto the Heart or Head of Man. Next to those of our DIVINE LEGISLATOR, they were intended
to form a new Creature.
He prevailed upon the Rich to make an equal Distribution of their Lands with the Poor. He prohibited the Use of all such Money as was current among other Nations, and, thereby prohibited the Importation of the Means and Materials of Pomp and Luxury. He enjoined them to feed, in common, on simple and frugal Fare. He forbid all Gorgeousness of Furniture and Apparel. In short, he endeavoured to suppress every sensual and selfish Desire, by Injunctions of daily Exercise, Toil, and Hardship, a patient Endurance of Pain, and a noble Contempt of Death. At length, feigning some Occasion of being abroad for a Season, he exacted an Oath from the
Lacedaemonians
that they should strictly observe his Laws, without the smallest Infringement, till his Return. Thus, for the love of his Country, he went into perpetual Banishment from it. And he took Measures, at his Death, that his Body should never be found, lest it should be carried back to
Sparta,
and give his Countrymen a Colour for dissolving their Oath.
Laying
Peter
aside, who, think you, was the greatest Hero among the Moderns?
To confess the Truth; among all that I have heard or read of; the Hero whom I most affect was a Madman, and the Lawgiver whom I most affect was a Fool.
'Troth, I believe you never would have been the Writer you are at this Day, if you had not adopted somewhat of both the said Qualities. But, come, unriddle I beseech you; where may this favourite Hero and Legislator be found?
In a Fragment of the
Spanish
History, bequeathed to the World by one Signior
Cervantes.
O !    have you led me to my old Acquaintance? pray, has not your
Pegasus
some Smatch of the Qualities of the famous
Rosinante?
Quite as chaste, I assure you. But, I perceive that you think I am drolling; you don't suppose that you can ever be seriously of the same Opinion. Yet, if you demand of your own Memory, for what have the great Heroes throughout History been renowned? it must answer, for Mischief merely, for spreading Desolation and Calamity among Men. How greatly, how gloriously, how divinely superior was our Hero of the
Mancha!
who went about
righting of Wrongs,
and
redressing of Injuries,
lifting up the fallen, and pulling down those whom Iniquity had exalted. In this his marvellous Undertaking, what Buffettings, what Bruisings, what Tramplings of Ribs, what pounding of Packstaves did his Bones not endure? (Mine ached at the recital.) But, Toil was his Bed of Down, and the House of Pain was, to him, a Bower of Delight, while he considered himself as engaged in giving Ease, Advantage, and Happiness to others. If Events did not answer to the Enterprises of his Heart, it is not to be imputed to the Man but to his Malady; for, had his Power and Success been as extensive as his Benevolence, all Things awry, upon Earth, at the Risk of his Limbs and Life, would instantly have been set as streight as a Cedar.
But, let me turn, with Reverence, to kiss the Hem of the Robes of the most respectable of all Governors and Legislators,
Sancho Pansa.
What Judgments! what Institutions! how are
Minos,
and
Solon,
and the inspired of the Goddess
Aegeria
here eclipsed!
Sancho,
thou wast a Peasant, thou wast illiterate, thou wast a Dunce for a Man, but an Angel for a Governor; inasmuch as, contrary to the Custom of all other Governors, thou didst not desire any Thing, thou didst not wish for any Thing, thine Eye was not bent to any Thing, save the Good of thy People! therefore thou cou'dst not stray, thou hadst no other way to travel. Could
Aesop
's Log have been moved to Action upon the same Principle, the Regency of Storks had not prevailed among Men. How am I provoked,
Pansa,
when I see thee insulted! how am I grieved when I find thee deposed! Saving the Realms of a certain Majesty, I say, and sigh to myself, O, that the whole Earth were as thine Island of
Barataria;
and thou,
Sancho,
the Legislator and the Ruler thereof.
I feel Conviction. I confess it. But tell me, I pray you; why has the World, through all Ages and Nations, universally ascribed Heroism and Glory to Conquest?
Through the Respect, as I take it, that they have for Power. Man is by Nature weak; he is born in and to a State of Dependence; he therefore naturally seeks and looks about for Help; and, where he observes the greatest Power, it is there that he applies and prays for Protection. Now, though this Power should be exerted to his Damage, instead of Defence, it makes no Alteration in his Reverence for it; he bows while he trembles, and while he detests he worships. In the present Case, it is with Man, as it is with God; He is not so awful and striking, he is not so much attended to, in the Sunshine and gentle Dews of his Providence and Benignity, as in his Lightnings and Thunders, his Clouds and his Tempests.
Hero, heros, and
, in the three Languages, signify a Demigod, or one who is superior to mere Man. But, how can this Superiority or Distinction be shown? The serene Acts of Beneficence, the small and still Voice of Goodness are neither accompanied by Noise nor Ostentation. It is Uproar and Tumult, rather the Tumbling of sacked Cities, the Shrieks of ravish'd Matrons, and the Groans of dying Nations that fill the Trump of Fame. Men of Power and Ambition find Distinction and Glory, very readily, attainable in this Way; as it is incomparably more easy to destroy than to create, to give Death than to give Life, to pull down than to build up, to bring Devastation and Misery rather than Plenty and Peace and Prosperity upon Earth.
Were not Mankind, in this Instance, as blind to their own Interests, as they were iniquitous in giving Glory where Shame alone was due?
In so doing, they proved at once the Dupes and the Victims of their own Folly. Praise a Child for his Genius in Pranks of Mischief and Malevolence, and you quicken him in the direct Road to the Gallows. It is just so that this wise World has bred up its heroic Reprobates, by ascribing Honour and Acclamation to Deeds that called loudy for Infamy and the Gibbet; for the World was an Ass from its very Commencement, and it will continue a Dunderhead to the End.
From the Beginning of Things (a long Time ago) the joint Invention of Mankind has discovered but two Methods of procuring Sustenance on Earth, the First by the Labour of their own Hands, the second by employing the Hands of others.
All therefore are excluded, or at least ought to be excluded from such a World, who refuse to labour, or, what is still worse, who disturb and prevent the Labour of Others.
Among those who will not labour, we may number all who have the Happiness of being born to no Manner of End; such as the
Monks
of every Country, the
Dervises
of
Persia,
the
Bramins
of
India,
the
Mandarins
of
China,
and the
Gentlemen
of these free and polished Nations.
These have nothing to do but to sleep it, to wake it; to eat it, to drink it; to dance it, to doze it; to riot it, to roar it; and to rejoice in the happy Earnest which this World has given them of the Jollities of the next.
Among those who disturb the Labour of others, I reckon all your rascally
Alexanders
and
Caesars,
whether ancient or modern, who, in their Fits of Frenzy and Folly, scamper about, breaking the Lanterns and beating the Watch of this World, to the great Amazement of Women and Terrour of little Children; and, who seem to think that Heaven gave Noses and Heads, for no End in Nature but to be blooded and cracked. In short, I have no Patience when I hear talk of these Fellows. I am not Half so fretted when I hear my own Works read  Go on, I request you, it may happen to put me in Temper.
CHAP. V.
THE young Gentlemen were, now, upon their Return; and, as they approached the House, they crowded about
Harry
to keep him from being seen, till he took an Opportunity of slipping away and stealing up to his Chamber. He now grew stiff and sore, and his Nurse, having got an Intimation of what had happened, hurried up to him, and wept over him with abundant Tears of cordial Affection. She strait, undressed, and put him to Bed; and, having ordered some White-Wine Whey, of which she made him drink plentifully, she, also, undressed, and went to bed to him, and
Harry,
casting his little Arm about her Neck, and, putting his Head in her Bosom, was fast in a Twinkling.
By this,
John
had returned from the Execution of his Commission. He had been fully apprised by
Tommy,
on the Road, of all the Circumstances relating to this bloody Business; and, going to his Lord and Lady, he gave them the whole Detail, occasionally dwelling, and expatiating on
Harry
's Courage, his Prowess, his Honour, and his Generosity. They could, now, no longer forbear indulging themselves with the Sight of a Child, in whom they held themselves honoured, above all Titles. They stole, gently, up Stairs; and, having got a Peep at
Harry,
and observed that he was fast asleep, they stole, as softly, back again, each inwardly exulting in their glorious Boy.
Our Hero was scarce recovered, from his Wounds and Bruises, when, on a Day, he met a little Beggar Boy at the Hall-Door, half naked, and whinging, and shivering with Cold. His Heart was, instantly, touched with wonted Compassion; and, taking him by the Hand, what is your Name, my poor little Boy, says
Harry? Neddy,
Sir, says the Child. And, where's your Daddy and Mammy? O, Sir, answered
Ned,
I have no Daddy nor Mammy in the World wide. Don't cry, don't cry, says
Harry,
I have several Daddies and Mammies, and I'll give you One or Two of 'em. But, where did you leave your clothes,
Neddy?
I haven't any, Sir, replied the Child in a piteous Accent. Well well, it don't matter,
Neddy,
for I have more clothes, too, says
Harry.
So, taking him again by the Hand, he led him up to his Apartment, without being perceived of any; and, helping him to strip, he ran to his Closet for the Shirt which he had last thrown off, and put it on the new Comer with equal Haste and Delight. He, next, ran for the entire Suit that his bearded Dada had given him, and, having helped, and shown him how to put on the Breeches, he drew on the Stockings and Shoes with his own Hands. To these succeeded the Coat and Waistcoat, and
Ned
was, now, full as well rigg'd as his Benefactor.
Never had our Hero enjoyed himself, so highly, as while he was thus employed. When he had finished his Operations, he chuckled and smiled, turned
Ned,
round and round, walked here and there about him, and was as proud of him, as if he had been wholely of his own making.
He now, again, became thoughtful, forecasting in his Mind the Particulars that might further be requisite for the Accommodation of his Guest; for he was grown too fond of him to think of parting suddenly. He then recollected an adjoining Lumber-Room, and, taking
Ned
with him, they found a little old Mattress, which, with united Strength they dragged forth, and lodged in a convenient Corner of the Closet. To this they added a Pair of old Blanketts, and
Harry,
having spread them for
Ned
's Repose, in the best Manner he was able, asked his Dependent if he was yet hungry; Yes, very, very hungry indeed, Sir, cried
Ned.
No sooner said, than
Harry
flew down to the Kitchen, and, looking about, and spying a large Porringer of Milk and a Luncheon of Bread, that one of the Servants had provided for a young Favourite of their own, he seized upon them like a Hawk, and hast'ning, again to his Chamber, delivered them to
Neddy
who, already, had half devoured them with his Eyes.
Ned,
instantly, fell to with the Rapture of a Cormorant, or any Rapture that can be supposed less than that of his Friend
Harry,
who stood over him with the Feelings of a Parent Turtle; that feeds his Young with the Meat derived from his own Bowels.
For a few Days,
Harry
kept his Dependent shut up in his Chamber, or Closet, without the Privity of any of the Family, except Nurse, to whom he had reveal'd the Affair under the Seal of the strictest Secresy.
But, on a cross Day,
Susy
the Housemaid, having entered with a new Broom into our Hero's Apartment, perceived, in a Corner, the tattered Deposite of
Ned
's original Robeings, and, lifting them, at a cautious Distance, with a Finger and Thumb, she perceived, also, as many other Philosophers have done, that there is no part of this Globe which is not peopled with Nations of Animals, if Man had but Attention, and Optics duely accommodated to the Vision. She dropped the living Garment, as though she had taken up a burning Horse Shoe; and was, instantly, peopled, by her prolific Imagination, with Tribes of the same Species from Head to Foot.
In this Fit of Disgust,
Susy
happened, unfortunately, to step into the Closet, and spyed
Ned
in a dark Corner, where he had squatted and drawn himself up to the Size of a Hedge-hog. She, immediately flew at him, like one of the
Eumenides,
and dragged him forth to the Light, as
Hercules
is said to have haled
Cacus
from his Den. She questioned him, with a Voice of implacable Authority, and
Ned,
with humble and ingenuous Tears, confessed the whole Adventure. But
Susy,
no way melted, exclaimed, what, Sirrah, have you, and your Master
Harry,
a mind to breed an Affection in the House? I will remit of no such Doings, for I have an utter Conversion to Beggar-Brats and Vermil. She then commanded him to bundle up his old Raggs, and, driving him down Stairs before her, she dismissed him from the Hall-Door with a Pair of smart Boxes on each Side of his Head, and ordered him never more to Defend her Sight.
Poor
Ned,
went weeping and wailing, from the Door, when who should he see, at about fifty Paces, distant, but his beloved Patron
Harry,
who had been cutting a Switch from the next Hedge. To him he ran, with Precipitation.
Harry,
touched with a Compassion not free from Resentment, to see his Favourite in Tears, demanded the Cause of his apparent Distress, which
Ned
truely related. Our Hero, thereupon, became thoughtful and moody; and, judging that
Susy
had not acted thus without Authority, he conceived a general Disgust at a Family who had treated him so injuriously in the Person of his
Neddy;
but, comforting his Dependent the best he could, come
Neddy,
says he, don't cry, my Man; I will bring you, that I will, to my own dear Dada, and he will welcome and love you, for my Sake. Then, making his Way through a small Breach in the neighbouring Hedge, he ordered
Ned
to follow him, and flew across the Field, like a Bird of Passage, in a direct Line to his Patron's.
The old Gentleman saw him approaching and gave Sign to his ancient Domestic, who withdrew, with Precipitation. He received and caressed our Hero with more than usual Transport, and who, my Dear says he, is this pretty little Boy that you have got with you?
Harry,
then, like the
Grecian Demosthenes,
taking Time to warm himself with the Recollection of his own Ideas, and, setting his Person forth with an Action and Ardour that determined to prevail, made the following Oration.
Why, Dada, I must tell you as how this poor little Boy, for he is a very poor little Boy, and his Name is
Neddy,
Sir, and he has no Friend in the wide World but you and I, Sir; and, so Sir, as I was telling you, he comes to the Door, crying sadly for Cold and Hunger, and he would have pitied every Body, for he had no clothes, nor Daddy nor Mammy at all, Sir, and I had a many of them, and that wasn't't fair, you know, Sir; and I was in the Humour to give him all the Dadas and Mamas I had in the World, except you, Sir; and Mammy Nurse. And so, I takes him up Stairs, and I puts the clothes upon him, that you gave me, when I was a poor little Boy, Sir; for no Body had to say to 'em, but you and I, Sir; and I knew that you would pity poor little
Neddy,
more than I pitied him myself, Sir. And so, Dada, they takes my poor little
Neddy
to Day, and boxed him, and beat him sadly, and turned him out of Doors; and so I meets him crying and roaring, and so, you know, Sir, as how I had nothing to do, but to bring him to you, Sir, or to stay, and cry with him for Company, Sir.
Here, Orator
Harry
ceased to speak, except by his Tears, which he could no longer restrain, and which proceeded to plead most emphatically for him. But, his Patron took him in his Arms, and kissed the Drops from both Eyes, and said, don't cry, my Darling, for I am yours, my
Harry,
and all that I have is yours, and, if you had brought a whole Regiment of poor little
Neddies,
with you, they should be all welcome to me, for your Sake, my
Harry.
Then
Harry
sprung up, and caught his Patron about the Neck, so that it was some Time before the old Gentleman could get loose. But,
Harry,
says he, I am going just now to leave this Country; will you and your Man
Neddy
come along with me? Over the World wide, Dada, says
Harry;
but where are you going, Sir? I am going a Begging,
Harry.
O, that will be brave Sport, says
Harry,
I'll tell you what you shall do, Dada. What's that, my Love? Why, Sir, says
Harry,
you must get a great Bag, like the old Man and little Child that was at Door, 'tother Day. And
Neddy
and I will beg for you, Sir; and we will put all that we get into your great Bag, as that good little Child did for his Daddy, without touching a Bit; though he was a hungry enough, himself, poor Fellow, I warant. But don't let us go to beg to Papa's Door, Sir; for, if you do, they will box and beat us, and drive us away, as they did to poor little
Neddy,
to Day, Sir.
The old Gentleman, thereat, had his Countenance divided betwixt the rising Tear and the bursting Laugh. But, taking
Harry
by the Hand, he said. No no, my heavenly Creature, I am not going to beg of any Man living, but to beg of God to pour down his full Weight of Blessings upon my
Harry,
and, to endeavour to confirm them to him, both here and hereafter, by my Care and Instructions.
Having thus spoken, he put a large Cake into the Hand of each of the Children, and, causing them to drink a full Glass of small White-Wine, he took them into a back Yard, where a light Coach with six Horses and three Servants, ready mounted, attended. And, having placed his young Companions, and seated himself between them, away the Coach drove, at a sweeping Gallop.
About the Time that our Hero and his Patron set out, Nurse went up Stairs, with a most bountiful Cut, of Homebaked Bread and Butter; for the Amusement of the young Caitiff whom she had left in the Closet; but not finding him there, she hastily dropped her Provinder on the first Window she met, and, hurrying down to the Kitchen, earnestly enquired for the little Beggar-Boy whom Master
Harry
had taken into his Service; at this Question all the Servants stood in silent Amazement, except
Susy,
who, bridling up, and assuming the whole Importance of her Station. Why, Nurse, says she, you mustn't oppose that I am come here, to sweep and to clean after lousy little Flagrants, it was enough to breed an Antagion, that it was, in the House; so what magnifies many Words, I took the little dirty Bastard and cuff'd him out of Doors. You did Hussey, says Nurse, you dare to affront and vex my Child, my little Man, the Honour and Pride of all the Family? And, so saying, she ups with her brawny Arm, and gave
Susy
such a Douse on the Side of the Head, as left her fast asleep for an Hour and upward. Then running up Stairs, again, she went, searching and clamouring, for her
Harry,
about the House, in order to comfort and condole with him for his Loss.
Dinner was now served up, and the Company seated, and all the Servants ran severally, here and there, repeatedly summoning Master
Harry
to attend. But,
Harry
was out of Hearing, by many a Mile. When the Cloth was removed, Nurse entered with an Aspect, half in Tears and half distracted, and exclaimed that her Child was not to be found. And what, Nurse, says the Earl, do you think is become of him? I hope, my Lord, says she, that he is either strayed to his Daddy, or to the dumb Gentleman's. Then, Messengers were, instantly, dispatched to both Houses, who speedily returned, with Tidings, that Master
Harry
had not been seen at his Foster-father's, and that no one was at Home at the House of the Dumb Gentleman.
The Business, now, became serious, and alarming; the whole House was in Commotion, and all the Domestics, and our Hero's loving Nurse, with Lord
Dickey
in her Hand, ran searching through the Gardens, the Fields, and the Groves, that resounded, on all Sides, with the Name of the Absentee.
On their Return from a Disquisition, as fruitless as solicitous, Nurse declared her Apprehensions, that
Harry
was gone off, with a little favourite Boy whom he had taken into Service, and whom the House Maid, that Morning, had beaten out of Doors.
Susy,
being nearly recovered, and now called and questioned, hereon, was compelled to confess the Fact, though in Terms less haughty and less elegant, than usual; when my Lord, looking sternly at her, and who, you Strumpet, he cried, gave you Authority to turn any one out of my House whom my noble and generous Boy was pleased to bring in? get you instantly away, and never let me be so unhappy as to see that Face again.
By this Time, the whole Village and Neighbourhood, as well as this noble Family, were in Trouble and Alarms for the Loss of their little Favourite; when a Countryman entered in sweaty Haste and desired, without Preface, to be admitted to the Earl. My Lord, says he, I think I can give you some News of your dear Child. As I was returning Home on the
London
Road, I saw a Coach and Six driving towards me at a great rate, and, though it passed me in Haste, I marked that the Gentleman with the Beard, was in it, and that he had two Children with him, one on each Hand, though I had not Time to observe their Faces.
Here is something for your News, said the Earl, it may be as you say.    Here,
John!
take a Posse of the Servants along with you. Go in Haste to that Man's House. If no one answers, break open the Door; and bring me Word of what you can learn concerning him.
John,
who was the House Steward, hurried instantly on his Commission; and, finding all in Silence, after loud and repeated Knockings, he and his Myrmidons burst open the Door, and rushing in ran up and down through all the Apartments. They found the House richly furnished, a Library of choice Books above Stairs, a Buffet full of massy Plate, and every Thing in Order as if prepared for the Reception of a Family of Distinction. At this they all stood astonished, till
John,
casting his Eye toward a Table in the Street Parlour, perceived a Paper which he hastily snatched up, and found to be a Letter, duely folded and sealed and addressed to his Lord. Exulting at this Discovery, he left some of the Servants to watch the Goods, and hurried back with all possible Speed to his Master.
My Lord, says
John
entring, and striving to recover Breath, the dumb Gentleman, as they call him, must be a main rich Man, for the very Furniture of his House cannot be worth less than some Thousands of Pounds.
John
then presented the Letter, which the Earl hastily broke open, and found to be, as follows:
My Lord,
I Am at length presented with an Opportunity of carrying off your little
Harry,
the greatest Treasure that ever Parents were blessed with.
The Distress that I feel, in foreseeing the Affliction that his Absence will cause to your whole Family, has not been able to prevail for the Suspension of this Enterprise, as the Child's Interest and Happiness outweighs, with me, all other Considerations.
Permit me, however, to assure your Lordship that our Darling is in very safe and very affectionate Hands, and that it shall be the whole Concern, and Employment of my Life, to render and to return him to you, in due Time, the most accomplished and most perfect of all human Beings.
In the mean while, your utmost Search and Enquiry after us will be fruitless. I leave to your Lordship my House and Furniture, as a Pledge and Assurance of the Integrity of my Intentions,
And am,
&c.
The Mystery of our Hero's Flight was now, in a great Measure unravelled; but no one could form any rational Conjecture, touching the Motive of the old Gentleman's Procedure in the Case; and all were staggered at his leaving such a Mass of Wealth behind him.
As the falling on of a dark Night rendered all Pursuit, for that Time, impracticable; my Lord ordered the Servants to Bed, that they might rise before Day; and then to take every Horse he had, Coach-Cattle and all, and to muster and mount the young Men of the Village, and to pursue after the Fugitives, by different Roads, according to the best Likelihood or Intelligence they might receive.
In this hopeful Prospect, the House was again in some Measure composed; all, except poor Nurse who would not be comforted, neither could be prevailed upon to enter in at the Doors; but all Night, on the cold Stairs, or rambling through the raw Air, continued clapping and wringing her Hands, and bewailing the irreparable Loss of her
Harry.
On the following Day, my Lord ordered a minute Inventory to be taken of all the Furniture in the forsaken Mansion-House; and further appointed
Harry
's Foster-father, with his Family, to enter into Possession, and to take Care of the Effects, till such Time as the Proprietor should renew his Claim.
After three tedious Days, and as many expecting Nights, the Posse that went in quest of our Runaways returned; all, drooping and dejected, most of them slowly leading their overspent Horses, and universally bespattered or covered with Mire, without any Equivalent of comfortable Tidings to balance the Weight of their Langour and Fatigue.
The Happiness or Wretchedness of human Life, as it should seem, does not so much depend on the Loss or Acquisition of real Advantage, as on the fluctuating Opinions and Imaginations of Men. The Absence of this Infant who, but a few Months before, had no Manner of Interest in the Views, Affections, or Solicitudes of this noble Family, appeared now as the Loss of all their Honours and Fortunes. A general Face of Mourning seemed to darken every Apartment; and my Lord and Lady no more paid Visits, nor received public Company. They were however inventive in many Contrivances for amusing and consoling their darling
Dickey,
but even this was to little Purpose, for he was often found silently languishing in Corners; or crying, O, where's my Brother
Harry,
my own sweet Brother
Harry,
shall I never see my own Brother
Harry
any more?
My Lord had already dispatched a Multitude of circular Letters to all his Acquaintances, with other Notices, throughout the Kingdom, containing Offers of ample Rewards for the Recovery of his Child. But, finding all ineffectual, he caused Advertisements, to the same Purpose, to be repeatedly inserted in all the public Papers; as the same, no doubt, are still extant, and may be found in the musty Chronicles of those Days.
Within a few Weeks after the publishing of these Advertisements my Lord received a Letter, respecting his Son
Harry,
that afforded great Consolation to him and his Lady; insomuch, that, with the Help of the lenient Hand of Time, in less than the Space of twelve Months, this noble Family were restored to their former Cheerfulness and Tranquillity.
But, to return to the Situation in which we left our Hero: The Coach drove on, at a round Rate, and the Children continued in high Glee, and thought this kind of Conveyance the finest Sport imaginable.
When they had entered, a Space, on the first Common, the Coachman looked about, to take Care that no one was in Sight; and, turning to the right Hand, he held gently on, till he came to another great Road, on which he drove at his former Rate. This he did, again, at the next Common, and, coming to another Road that led, also, to
London,
and Night now approaching, he put up at the first great Inn he came to.
Harry
's Patron had the Precaution to keep his great Coat muffled about his Face, so that no one could observe his Beard, till they were shown to a Room, and Fire and Candles were lighted up. Then, his ancient Friend and Domestic, having provided Scissars and Implements for Shaving, locked the Door and set to Work in the Presence of the Children.
Harry
was all Attention, during the whole Process; and when the Operation was quite completed, he drew near to his Patron, with a cautious kind of Jealousy, and, looking up to his Face, with the Tears in his little Eyes, speak to me, Sir, says he, pray speak to me. It is, answered the old Gentleman, the only Comfort of my Life to be with you and to speak to you, my
Harry.
The Child, hearing the well known Voice of Friendship, immediately cleared again, and, reaching up his little Arms to embrace his Patron; O, indeed, says he, I believe you are my own Dada still.
Though
Harry
was, now, reconciled to the Identity of his Friend, yet he felt a secret Regret for the Absence of his Beard. For he loved all and every Part, of him, so entirely, that the Loss of a Hair appeared a Loss and a Want to the Heart of
Harry.
After an early Supper, and two or three small Glasses of Wine
per
Man; this Gentleman, whom his Servants had now announced by the Name of Mr.
Fenton,
became all Things in all with his young Companions. He delighted them with several entertaining Tricks. He put the Point of a large Needle to the Edge of a drinking Glass, and then, placing the Centre of a Pewter Plate on the Top of the Needle, he began to turn it about, with an increasing Motion, till it whirled round, at a Rapidity that was altogether joyous and amazing to the little Spectators. He, next, turned two Plates with their Faces to each-other, and, placing them on the Brim of a large Beer-Glass, he put an Egg upon the Plates, and, giving the Plates a slight Stroke, with the Side of his Hand, the Plates, instantly flew from between the Glass and the Egg, and the Egg fell plumb into the Glass, without the smallest Fracture.
After some other of the like Fooleries, the Table was removed; and, as the Room was very large, Mr.
Fenton
proposed
Hide and go seek
to his Associates. This Invitation was accepted with Transport, and, after they were cloyed with
Hide and seek,
they all played
Tagg
till they were well warmed.
Mr.
Fenton
then ordered a Pallet into the Chamber, for
James,
his faithful Domestic, and little
Ned.
Then, helping to undress
Harry,
he put him, first, to Bed; and, hastening after, he took his Darling to his Bosom, and tenderly pressed him to a Heart that loved him more than all the World, and more than that World ten times told.
In about three Days more, they arrived safe, at
Hamsted,
and stopping at the Court of a large House, that was delightfully situated, they were welcomed by a Gentlewomanly looking Matron, whom
James
had fixed for Housekeeper, about a Fortnight before.
The next Day, Mr.
Fenton
and his blithe Companions were attended at Table by
James
and the two Footmen.
As soon as the latter Grace was said, and the Cloth taken away;
Harry,
says Mr.
Fenton,
it is now our turn to wait on
James
and his Fellow Servants. For
God
made us all to be Servants to each other, and one Man is not born a Bit better than another, and he is the best and greatest of all who serves and attends the most, and requires least to be served and attended upon. And, my Precious, he, that is a King to Day, if so it shall please
God,
may become a Beggar To-morrow, and it is good that People should be prepared against all that may happen.
Having so said, he took his Associates down to the Hall, just as the Servants had sat down to Dinner. He gave his Domestics the Wink, and, beginning to set the Example, asked Mrs.
Hannah,
and Mr.
James,
and Mr.
Frank,
and Mr.
Andrew,
what they would please to have? The Servants, readily falling in with their Master's Scheme, ordered
Harry
to bring such a Thing, and
Ned
to fetch such a Thing, and
Harry
to do this, and
Harry
to do that. While
Harry,
with a graceful Action, and more beautiful than
Ganymede
the Cup-Bearer of the Gods, flew cheerfully about, from Side to Side, preventing the Wishes of all at Table; so that they poured upon him a thousand Blessings from the Bottom of their Hearts, and, would now scarce have parted with him for the mighty Rewards, which his Father, some Time after, proposed for his Recovery.
Within a Fortnight after this, Mr.
James,
the House Steward, had furnished a large Lumber-Room with thousands of Coats, out-Coats, Shirts, Waistcoats, Breeches, Stockings, and Shoes, of different Sorts and Sizes, but all of warm and clean, though homely Materials.
When this was done, Mr.
Fenton
led his Favourite up to the Stores, and said; my
Harry,
you see all these Things, and I make a Present of all these Things to my
Harry.
And, now tell me, my Love, what will you do with them? Why, Dada, says
Harry,
you know that I can't wear them myself. No, my Dear, says Mr.
Fenton,
for, you have Clothes enough beside, and some of them would not fit you, and others would smother you. What then will you do with them, will you burn them, or throw them away? O, that would be very naughty and wicked indeed, says
Harry.
No, Dada, as I don't want 'em, myself, I will give 'em, to those that do. That will be very honestly done of you, says Mr.
Fenton,
for, in Truth they have a better Right to them, my
Harry,
than you have, and that, which you cannot use, cannot belong to you. So that, in giving you these Things, my Darling, it should seem, as if I made you no Gift at all. O, a very sweet Gift, says
Harry.
How is that, says Mr.
Fenton;
why, the Gift of doing Good to poor People, Sir. Mr.
Fenton,
then, stepping back, and, gazing on our Hero, cryed; whoever attempts to instruct thee, my Angel, must, himself, be instructed of Heaven, who speaks by that sweet Mouth.
But,
Harry,
it would not be discreet of you to give these Things to the common Beggars who come every Day to our Door; give them Victuals and Half-Pence or Pence a-piece, and welcome. But, if you give such Beggars twenty Suits of Clothes, they will cast them all off, and put on their Raggs, again, to move People to pity them. But, when you spy any poor Travellers going the Road, and, that your Eye-sees that they are naked, or your Heart tells you that they are hungry; then, do not wait till they beg of you, but go and beg of them to favour you with their Acceptance; then take them in, to the Fire, and warm them, and feed them; and, when you have so done, take them up to your Store-Room, and cloath them with whatever you think they want. And, believe me, my
Harry,
whenever you are cold, or hungry, or wounded, or in want, or in Sickness, yourself; the very Remembrance of your having clothed, and fed, and cured, and comforted, the naked and the hungry, the wounded, and the afflicted, will be Warmth, and Food, and Medicine, and Balm to your own Mind.
While Mr.
Fenton
spoke, the Muscles of
Harry
's expressive Countenance, like an equally tuned Instrument, uttered Unisons to every Word he heard.
From this Day forward,
Harry
and
Ned,
by Turns, were frequently out on the Watch; and, often single, or in Pairs, or by whole Families,
Harry
would take in a poor Father and Mother, with their helpless Infants, driven perhaps from House and Home, by Fire, or other Misfortune, or oppressive Landlord, or ruthless Creditor; and, having warmed, and fed, and clothed, and treated the Old-Ones as his Parents, and the Little-Ones as his Brothers and Sisters, he would give them additional Money, for Charges on the Road, and send them away the happiest of all People except himself.
By this Time, Mr.
Fenton
had inquired into the Circumstances and Characters of all the Poor in the Town and throughout the Precincts, and, having refuted or confirmed the Intelligence he had received, by a personal Inspection and Visit from House to House, and, having made Entries of all such, as he deemed real Objects and worthy of his Benificence, he invited the Heads of the several Families to take a Dinner with him, every
Sunday,
at his Hall.
On the following
Sunday,
there came about thirty of these Visitants, which Number soon increased to fifty weekly Guests.
On entring, they found the Cloth ready spread, and Mr.
James,
having counted Heads, laid a Crown, in Silver, upon every Plate; which first Course was a most relishing Sauce to all that followed. A plentiful Dinner was then introduced, and, the Guests being seated, Mr.
Fenton, Harry, Ned,
and the four Domestics attended, and disposed themselves, in a Manner the most ready to supply the Wants of the Company. The Guests, all abashed and confounded at what they saw, sat, some Time, with open Mouth, and unswallowed Victuals, much less did they presume to apply to the Waiters for any Article they wanted; till, being encouraged and spirited up, by the Cheerfulness, Ease, and Readiness of their Attendants, they became, by Degrees, quite happy and jovial; and, after a saturating Meal, and an enlivening Cup, they departed, with elevated Spirits, with humanized Manners, and with Hearts warmed, in Affection, toward ev'ry Member of this extraordinary House.
By the means of this weekly Bounty, these reviving Families were soon enabled to clear their little Debts, to the Chandlers, which had compelled them to take up every Thing at the dearest Hand. They, were, also, further enabled to purchase Wheels and other Implements, with the Materials of Flax and Wool, for employing the late idle Hands of their Houshold. They, now, appeared decently clad, and with happy Countenances. Their Wealth increased with their Industry. And the Product of the Employment of so many late useless Members became a real Accession of Wealth to the Public. So true it is, that the Prosperity of this World, and, of every Nation and Society, therein, depends, soley, on the Industry or Manufactures of the Individuals. And, so much more nobly did this private Patron act, than all ancient Legislators, or modern Patriots, and Landlords; whose Selfishness, if they had but common Cunning, or common Sense, might instruct them to increase their proper Rents, and enrich their native Country, by supplying the Hands of all the Poor, within their Influence, with the Implements and Materials of the Prosperity of each.
In the mean Time, Mrs.
Hannah,
daily, instructed the Children in the Reading of
English.
Neither was Mr.
Fenton
inattentive to any Means that might preserve and promote the Health, Action, and corporal Excellencies of his little Champion.
He held a large Lawn, behind his Garden: and, hither he summoned, three Times in every Week, all the Boys of the Vicinage, that were within two Years, advanced above the Age of our Hero. To these he appointed Premiums for Football, Hurling, Wrestling, Leaping, Running, Cudgelling, and Buffing. But the Champions were enjoined to invest their Fists with little Mufflers, insomuch, that, how great soever their Vigour might be, the Bruises that they gave stopped short of Mortality.
Now, though these Premiums were, almost, universally adjudged to the Party of which
Harry
then happened to be a Member, or, individually, to himself for his single Prowess and Preeminence. Yet, he never would consent to bear the Prize from the Field; but, either gave it to some Favourite among those, with whom he had been associated; or to the particular Champion whom he had worsted in Contest. For he felt the Shame and Defeat of his mortified Adversary, and consolingly hinted at the Injustice of the Judges, and reformed their Error, by the Restoration of the Reward.
One Day, while
Harry
was watching to intercept poor Travellers, as eagerly as a Fowler watches for the rising of his Game; he heard a plaintive Voice, behind the Hedge, as he thought, in the opposite Field. He flew across the Road, and, passing through a small Turnstile soon found the unhappy Objects he sought for. He stood, for some Time, like a Statue, and his Compassion became too strong for Tears or Utterance: but, suddenly turning, and flying back again, he rushed, with Precipitation, into the Room where Mr.
Fenton
was writing a Letter. What is the Matter, said Mr.
Fenton,
starting, what has frightened you, my
Harry,
what makes you look so pale? To this
Harry
replied not, but catching hold of his Hand, and pulling, with all his Force, O come, says he, O come, Dada, and see.
Mr.
Fenton
then got up, and suffered himself to be led where the Child pleased to conduct him, without another Word being asked or answered on either Side.
When they were come into the Field, Mr.
Fenton
observe'd a Man sitting on the Ground. His Clothes seemed, from Head to Foot, as the tattered Remainder of better Days. Through a squalid Wig, and Beard, his pale Face appeared just tinctured with a faint and sickly Red. And, his hollow Eyes were fixed upon the Face of a Woman, whose Head he held on his Knees; and, who looked to be dead, or dying, though without any apparent Agony; while a male Infant, about four Years of Age, was half stretched on the Ground, and half across the Woman's Lap, with its little Nose pinched by Famine, and its Eyes staring about, wildly, though without Attention to any Thing. Distress seemed to have expended its utmost Bitterness on these Objects, and the last Sigh and Tear to have been, already, exhausted.
Unhappy Man, cried Mr.
Fenton,
pray, who or what are you? to which the Stranger, faintly, replied; without lifting his Eyes. Whoever you may be, disturb not the last Hour of those who wish to be at Peace.
Run,
Harry,
says Mr.
Fenton,
desire all the Servants to come to me, immediately; and bid Mrs.
Hannah
bring some Hartshorn and a Bottle of Cordial.
Away flew
Harry,
like feathered
Mercury,
on his Godlike Errand. Forth issued Mr.
James, Frank,
and
Andrew.
And last came Mrs.
Hannah,
with the House-Maid and Cordials.
Hannah
stooped, in Haste, and applied Hartshorn to the Nose of the Woman, who appeared wholly insensible. After some Time, her Bosom heaved with a long-rising and subsiding Sigh, and her Eyes feebly opened, and immediately closed, again. Then
Hannah
and the House-Maid, raising her gently between them, got a little of the Cordial into her Mouth, and bending her, backward, they observe'd that she swallowed it. Then
James, Frank, Andrew,
and the House-Maid, joining their Forces, lifted her up, and bore her, as easy as possible, toward the House. While
Harry
caught up her Infant, as a Pissmire does its favourite Embryo, in a Time of Distress, in order to lodge it in a Place of Protection and Safety.
In the mean Time Mr.
Fenton
and Mrs.
Hannah
put their Hartshorn, with great Tenderness, to the Nostrils of the Stranger, and requested him to take a Sup of the Cordial. But, he, turning up his dim, though expressive Eyes, feebly cried, are you a Man or an Angel? and directly fainted away.
They rubbed his Temples, with the Spirits, and did their utmost to recover him, but a sudden Gust of grateful Passion had proved too strong for his Constitution. On the Return of the Servants he was, also, carried in. A Physician was, instantly, sent for; Beds were provided and warmed, in haste; the new Guests were all, gently, undrest and laid therein; and, being compelled to swallow a little Sack Whey, they recovered to a kind of languid Sensibility.
The Physician gave it, as his Opinion, that this unhappy Family were reduced to their present State, by Excess of Grief and Famine. That Nourishment should be administered, in very small Proportions. And, that they should be kept as quiet, as possible, for a Fortnight at least.
WHILE all imaginable Care is taking for the Recovery of these poor People. We beg leave to return to the Affairs of their Protectors.
A Plague upon your
return!
This is just like a Man in whose Company I once travelled; we were advanced on our Journey, in a fair and happy Road, when he took it into his Head to ride back again, in search of an old Glove. Here you have raised my Curiosity to the highest, and equally distressed me in favour of this unhappy Family, when, in the Instant, you fly off from the Satisfaction expected. But here also, I presume, you are upon Honour; you are entrusted with Secrets, and would not for the World betray them to your Readers.
Sir, you never were more mistaken. I know nothing at all of these People's Affairs. As soon as they are able they will speak for themselves. I know of no Advantage that they can get by their Silence, whatever they may derive from your Compassion and Generosity by telling their Case. But the Doctor, for the present, will not permit them. --Proceed, my Friend, I pray you. Your Patience will have but a very short Trial.
CHAP. VI.
ABOUT a Month before this, Mr.
Fenton
had engaged one Mr.
Vindex,
the Schoolmaster of the Town, to come, for an Hour every Evening, and initiate the two Boys in their
Latin
Grammar. But, he had a special Caution given him, with respect to the generous Disposition of our Hero, which was said to be induced to do any Thing, by Kindness; but to be hardened and roused into Opposition by Severity.
In about ten Days after the late Adventure, Mr.
Fenton
was called to
London,
where he was detained, about three Weeks, in settling his Books with his
Dutch
-Correspondents; and in calling in a very large Arrear of Interest, that was due to him upon his Deposits in the Funds.
During his Absence, Mr.
Vindex
began to assume a more expanded Authority, and gave a freer Scope to the surly Terrors of his Station.
Ned
was, by Nature, a very lively, but very petulant Boy; and when
Vindex,
reproved him with the imperial Brow and Voice of the great Mogul,
Ned,
cast upon him an Eye of such significant Contempt, as no Submissions or Sufferings, on the Part of the Offender, could ever after compensate.
The next Day, Mr.
Vindex
returned, doubly armed, with a monstrous birch Rod, in one Hand, and a Ferule in the other. The first he hung up, in Terrorem, as a Meteor is said to hang in the Heavens, threatening future Castigation to the Children of Men. The second he held, as determined upon present Action; nor was he unmindful of any Hook, whereon to hang a Fault; so that, travelling from Right to Left, and from Left to Right, he so warmed the Hands of the unfortunate
Edward,
as ruined the funny Oeconomy of his Countenance, and reduced him to a disagreeable Partnership with the Afflicted.
On the Departure of
Vindex,
though
Ned
's Drollery was dismayed, his Resentment was, by no Means, eradicated. For the Principle of
Ned
was wholly agreeable to the Motto of a very noble Escutcheon, and,
Nemo me impune lacessit,
was a Maxim, of whose Impropriety not Saint
Anthony,
himself, could persuade him.
All Night he lay ruminating, and brooding on Mischief in his Imagination, and, having formed the Outlines of his Plan toward Morning, he began to chuckle, and comfort himself, and exult in the Execution. He, then, revealed his Project to his Bedfellow, Mr.
James,
who was greatly tickled therewith, and promised to join in the Plot.
Full against the Portal, that opened upon the School-Room, there stood an ancient and elevated Chair, whose Form was sufficiently expressive of its Importance. Mr.
Vindex
had selected this majestic Piece of Furniture as, alone, suitable to the Dignity of his exalted Station. For he judiciously considered that, if
Thrones
and
Benches
were taken from among Men, there would be an End of all Dominion and Justice upon Earth.
Through the Centre of the Seat, of this Chair of Authority,
Ned
got Mr.
James
to drill a small Hole, not discernible, except on a very minute Scrutiny. He then provided a cylindrial Stick of about six Inches in length, to one End of which he fastened a Piece of Lead, and, in the other End he fixed the Head of a large Needle. This Needle had been a Glover's, of approved Mettle, keen, and polished, and three-square, toward the Point, for a quick and ready Penetration of tough Leather. He, next, fastened two small Chords, transversly, to the leaden Extremity of the Stick, and,
James
assisting, they turned the Chair with the Bottom upward, and tacked the four Ends of the Chords, in such a manner, as answered to the four Cardinal Points of the Compass; while the Stick remained suspended in an upright Direction, with the Point of the Needle just, so far, through the Drill, as put it upon a Level with the Surface of the Seat. Lastly, they fastened a long, and well waxed, Thread about the Middle of the Stick, and, drawing this Thread over the upper Rung, they dropped the End of it, just under
Ned
's Stool; and replaced the Seat of Learning in its former Position.
Greatly did
Ned
parade it, when, on Trial, he found that his Machine answered to a Miracle; for, the Stick being restrained from any Motion, save that in a Direction to the Zenith; on the slightest Twitch of the Thread, the Needle, instantly, mounted four Sixths of two Inches above the Surface of the Seat, and was, as quickly, recalled by the Revulsion of the Lead.
At the appointed Hour of Magisterial Approach, in comes Mr.
Vindex.
Master
Harry
and
Ned
are called. Each seizes his Book; and takes his Seat as usual in a Line nearly, diagonal to the right and left Corner of the Chair of Authority. Mr.
Vindex
assumes the Chair. But, scarce was he down, when
Ned
gives the premeditated Intimation to his Piercer, and up bounces
Vindex,
and gives two or three Capers, as though he had been suddenly stung by a Tarantula. He stares wildly about; puts his Hand behind him, with a Touch of tender Condolance; returns to the Chair; peers all over it with Eyes of the most prying Inspection; but, not trusting to the Testimony of his occular Sense, in a Case that, so very feelingly, refuted its Evidence, he moved his Fingers over and over every Part of the Surface; but found all smooth and fair, in Spight of the late sensible Demonstration to the contrary.
Down again, with slow Caution, subsided Mr.
Vindex,
reconnoitring the Premisses, to the right Hand, and to the left.
As his Temper was not, now, in the most duleet Disposition; he, first, looked sternly at
Ned,
and, then turning toward
Harry,
with an Eye that sought Occasion for present Quarrel, he questioned him, morosely, on some Articles of his Lesson. When
Ned,
not enduring such an Indignity to the Patron of his Life and Fortunes, gave a second Twitch, with better Will, and much more lively than at first; and up, again, sprung
Vindex,
with redoubled Vigour and Action, and bounded, plunged, and pranced about the Room, as bewitch'd. He glared, and searched all about, with a frantic Penetration, and pored into every Corner for the visible or invisible Perpetrators of these Mischiefs. He, now, began to imagine that some Devil wanted a Pincushion, and proposed no other, for the Purpose, than his capacious Material.
In this Thought, he retreated to the next Chamber, stripped off his Clothes, his Shoes, and Breeches, and, to know whether a Lodgment had been duely made; he groped for the Heads of the supposed Weapons. He next searched his Breeches, and every Skirt and posterior Fold of Coat and Waistcoat. But, finding the Coasts clear of any Ensigns of Hostility, he writhed and twisted his Head and Eyes to this Side and to that to discern, if possible, the Devastations that had been made in the Field of Honour; when, hearing a little Titter in the neighbouring School Room, he began to smell a Fox, and, dressing himself again, with a malignant Determination of better Note for the Future, he returned with a Countenance of dissembled Placability, and, resuming his Chair, began to examine the Boys, with a Voice apparently tuned by good-Temper and Affection.
During this short Serene, poor
Ned
happened to make a little Trip in his Rudiments; when
Vindex
turned, and cried, to our Hero, Master
Harry,
my Dear, be so kind to get up and reach me you Ferrule.
These Words had not fully passed the Lips of the luckless Pedagogue, when
Ned
plucked the String with his utmost Force, and
Vindex
thought himself, at least, impaled on the Spot. Up he shot, once more, like a sudden Pyramid of Flame. The Ground could no longer retain him, he soared aloft, roared, raved, cursed, and swore, like a thousand Infernals. While
Ned,
with an Aspect of the most condoling Hypocricy, and Words, broke by a Tone of Mourning, tenderly inquired of his Ailments.
Vindex
turned upon him an Eye of jealous Malignity, and taking a sudden Thought, he flew to the Scene of his repeated Infliction, and, turning up the Bottom of the Seat of Pain, this complicated Effort of extraordinary Genius lay revealed, and exposed to vulgar Contemplation.
He first examined, minutely, into the Parts and Construction of this wonderful Machinery, whose Efficacy he still, so feelingly, recollected. He then, drew the String; and admired, with what a piercing Agility the Needle could be actuated by so distant a Hand. And, lastly, and deliberately, he tore away, Piece by Piece, the whole Composition, as his rascally Brethren, the
Turks,
have also done, in their Antipathy to all the Monuments of Arts, Genius, and Learning throughout the Earth.
In the mean while, our Friend
Edward
sat trembling and frying in his Skin. All his Drollery had forsaken him; nor had he a single Cast of Contrivance, for evading the Mountain of Mischiefs that he saw impending. How indeed could he palliate? what had he to hope or plead in mitigation of the Penalty? where, in the Party, so highly offended, he saw his Judge and his Executioner.
Mr.
Vindex
had now the Ball wholly at his own Foot, and, that
Ned
was ever to have his Turn again, was a Matter no way promised by present Appearances.
Vindex,
at length, looked smilingly about him, with much Fun in his Face, but more Vengeance at his Heart. Mr.
Edward,
said he, perhaps you are not yet apprised of the Justice of the
Jewish
Laws, that claim an Eye for an Eye, and a Breech for a Breech; but I, my Child, will fully instruct you in the Fitness and Propriety of them.
Then, reaching at the Rod, he seized his shrinking Prey, as a Kite trusses a Robin; he laid him, like a little Sack across his own Stool, off go the Breeches, and, with the left Hand he holds him down, while the Right is laid at him with the Application of a Woodman who resolves to clear Part of the Forest before Noon.
Harry,
who was no way privy to the Machination of the Needle, now approached, and interposed in behalf of his unhappy Servant. He petitioned, he kneeled, he wept; but his Prayers and Tears were cast to the Winds and the Rocks, till
Vindex
had reduced the Posteriors of poor
Ned,
to a Plight little different from those of Saint
Bartholemew.
Mr.
Vindex
justly deemed that he had, now, given a Lesson, of such ample Instruction, as might dispense with his Presence for some Days at least.
In the mean Time, the Scalping of
Ned
's Bottom held him confined to his Bed, where he had full Time, and Leisure, to contrive, with one End, a just and worthy Retribution for the Sufferings of the other.
Harry
went, often, to sit, and condole with
Ned
in this the Season of his Calimity; and, as he had, now, conceived a strong Aversion to the Pedagogue, on Account of his Barbarity; he offered to assist his Friend in any Measures deemed adequate to the Stripes and Injuries he had received.
The House of Mr.
Vindex
was a large and old-fashioned Building, with a steep Flight of Stone-Stairs, and a spacious Landing-place before the Door.
Ned
was again on his Legs, the Night was excessive dark, and the Family of the Preceptor had just finished an early Supper.
About this Time, a gentle Rapping was heard, and a Servant, opening the Door, looked this Way, and that Way, and called out repeatedly, to know who was there; but, no Voice replying, he retired and shut all to again. Scarce was he
re-entered when he hears Rap, rap, rap, rap. The Fellow's Anger was now kindled, and, opening the Door suddenly, he bounced out at once, in order to seize the Run-away. But, seeing no Creature, he began to feel a coming Chilness, and his Hairs to stir, as though each had got the Life of an Eel. Back he slunk, closed the Door with the greatest Tenderness, and crept down to reveal a Scantling of his Fears to his Fellows in the Kitchen.
Now, though Men and Maids laugh'd, heartily, at the Apprehensions of
Hodge;
they yet resented this Insult on their House, as they called it, and, getting all up together in a Group, they slyly, crowded behind the Door, with the Latch in one of their Hands, ready to issue, in an Instant, and detect the Delinquents.
They were not suffered to freeze. Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock. Open fly's the Door, and out rush the Servants. Nothing appeared. They all stood, silent, and astonished beyond Measure. Some, however, with outward Bravade but inwards Tremblings, went searching, along the Walls, and behind the Posts for some Lurcher. Again, they gathered to the Landing-place, and stood, whisperingly debating what this might be. When, to the inexpressible Terror and Discomfiture of all present, the spontaneous Knocker assumed sudden Life and Motion; and gave such a Peal and Alarm to their Eyes and Ears, as put every Sense and Resolution to the Rout, and in they rushed, again, one on the Back of the other, and clapped to the Door, as in the Face of a Host of pursuing Daemons.
Mr.
Vindex
and his Lady, for some Time past, had been sitting opposite, and nodding over a Fire in the back Parlour, where they returned each other's Salute, with the greatest good Manners and Punctuality imaginable. He now started, on hearing the Rustling in the Hall, and angrily called to know what was the Matter.
Vindex,
from the Prejudice of Education during his Infancy, had conceived the utmost Spight to all Spectres and Hobgoblins, insomuch, that he wished to deprive them of their very Existence; and laboured to persuade himself, as well as others, of their Nonentity, but Faith proved too strong, within him, for all his verbal Parade of avowed Infidelity.
While the Servants, with pale Faces and short Breath, made their Relation, the magisterial Philosopher did so sneer, and, contemptuously, toss this Way and the other, and throw himself back, in such affected Fits of Laughter, as nothing could be like it. Till, bouncing, at the Sound of another Peal, he mustered the whole Family, Boaders and all, to about seventeen in Number, together with Madam
Vindex
who would not be left sole; and now they appeared such an Army as was sufficient to face any single Devil, at least, and, forth they issued, and filled the Landing place, leaving the Door on the Jar.
Here, Mr.
Vindex
turned, and, with his Face toward the Knocker thus addressed the Assembly.
My honest, but simple Friends, quoth he, can any Thing persuade ye, that a Spirit, or Ghost, as ye call it, a Breath or Being of Air, a something, or nothing, that is neither tangible, nor visible, can lay hold of that which is? Or are ye such Idiots as to imagine, that you Knocker, (for he did not yet venture to touch it) a Substance, of solid and molten Brass, without Members or Organs, or any internal System or Apparatus for the Purpose, can, yet, be indued with Will, Design, or any Kind of Intelligence, when the least locomotive Faculty, in the meanest Reptile, must, of Necessity, be provided with an infinitely varied Mechanism, of Nerves, Tubes, Reservoirs, Levers, and Pulleys for the Nonce. I should discredit my own Senses on any Appearance contrary to such palpable Demonstration. In all Lights   
Soft --break we off --Look where it comes again
--For, in this Instant of Affirmation, so peremptory and conclusive; the Knocker, as in Contempt and bitter Despight to Philosophy, so loudly refuted every Syllable of the Premisses, as left neither Time nor Inclination, to
Vindex,
for a Reply. But, rushing desperately forward, he burst in at the Portal, with such as had Presence of Mind to take Advantage of the opening, and, turning again, and shutting the Door violently in the Face of Half of his Family, he ran and threw himself into his Chair, in an Agony of Spirits.
The Servants and Boarders, whom
Vindex
had shut out, not abiding to stay in Presence of the Object of their Terrors, tumbled, in a Heap, down the Stairs, and gathering themselves up, again, ran, diversly, to communicate, to all their Neighbours and Acquaintance, the Tidings of the enchanted Knocker. Their contagious Looks and Words gave the Pannic, throughout; but, Curiosity prevailing above Apprehension, the Town began to gather, though, first, in thin Parties, and at a cautious Distance; till the crowd, increasing, took Heart and Resolution from Number, and venturing up a Step or two of the Stairs, and being still pressed and urged forward by new Comers from behind, they, at length, filled the whole Flight and the Landing-place, and one of them growing bold enough to lift his Hand toward the Knocker, the Knocker generously, convinced him that no Assistance was wanting. Rap, rap, rap, rap. Rap, rap, rap, rap. Rap, rap, rap, rap. Back recoil the foremost Ranks, casting off and tumbling over the Ranks behind. No one stayed to give Help or Hand to Friend or Brother, but, rising, or scrambling off on all Fours; each made the best of his Way to the first Assylum; and, in less than ten Seconds, there was not a Mouse stirring throughout the Street.
If I had the Ill-nature of most Authors, who seldom communicate any Thing worthy the Knowledge of the Public, I might, also, leave the foregoing Aenigma to be solved, or rather made more implicit, in such ways as Philosophy might happen to account for. But, in Compassion to the Pains of a labouring Imagination, I choose to deliver my Reader, with all possible Ease and Dispatch.
The Fact is, that these astonishing and tremendous Phaenomena, that discomfited little City, alarmed the Country round, and resuscitated the Stories and Legends of the old Women of all the Parishes from
Barnet
to
London,
was the whole and sole Contrivance of our Hero's petulant Foundling, during a nightly Lucubration.
Ned
had, accordingly, imparted his Plan of Operations to
Harry,
and
Harry
had engaged Mrs.
Hannah
in the Plot.
Now, Mrs.
Hannah
had a House, in a narrow Part of the Street, just opposite to that of Mr.
Vindex,
where her Niece and an old Servant resided. This House was narrow, but of the Height of four Stories; and, on the said memorable Night,
Ned
dropped the End of a Bottom of small Twine from the Garret Window, which
Hannah
took, across the Way, and fastened, with a double Knot, to the Knocker of
Vindex
's Door. And, now, it is twenty to one, that if
Vindex
's Family and the rest of the Neighbourhood had been, even thus far, let into the Secret, they would not have been, altogether, so much alarmed at the Consequences.
I have read of Generals who could gain, but not maintain Conquests; and of Women who could keep all Secrets but their own. Thus it happened to
Ned.
His Vanity was, at least, on a Level with his Ingenuity; he was so elated with the Success of his recent Stratagem, that he boasted of it to some, and half whispered it to others; till it came to the Ears of the much exasperated
Vindex. Vindex,
in the first Heat, and very Boil of his Passions, snatches up a huge Rod, just cut from that Tree whose bare Name strikes Terror through all our Seminaries of Learning, and, taking with him one of his Boarders, he marches directly down to the House of Mr.
Fenton,
and, thus formidably armed, he enters the fatal School-room.
Ned,
by great good Fortune for himself, was then absent. But, our Hero happening to be there,
Vindex,
instantly, shut the Door and called him to Task.
Master
Harry,
says he, did you know any Thing of the strange Knocking at my Door, last
Tuesday
Night? To this Question,
Harry,
who was too valiant to be tempted to tell a Lye through Fear, without Hesitation, answered in the Affirmative. You did, Sirrah, cried the Pedagogue, and have you the Impudence, also, to confess it to my Face? Here,
Jacky,
down with his Breeches, and horse him for me directly.
Jack
was a lusty lubberly Boy, about ten Years of Age, and stooping to unbutton
Harry,
according to Order, our Hero gave him such a sudden Fist, in the Mouth, as dashed in two of his Teeth, that then happened to be moulting, and set him a crying and bleeding after a piteous Manner.
Vindex
then rose into tenfold Fury, and took our Hero in Hands, himself, and, notwithstanding that he cuffed and kicked and sought it most manfully,
Vindex,
at length, unbuttoned his Breeches, and set him, in due Form, on the Back of his Boarder.
The Pedagogue, at first, gave him the three accustomed Strokes, as hard as he could draw. So much, my Friend, says he, is for your own Share of the Burden; and, now, tell me who were your Confederates and Abettors in this fine Plot? That I will never tell you, deliberately and resolutely answered our Hero. What, shall I be bullied and out-braved, replied the frantic Savage, by such a one as you? You little stubborn Villain, I will flea you alive, I will carbonade you on the Spot. So saying, he laid at him, as though he had been a Sheaf of Wheat; while
Harry,
indignantly, endured the Torture, and, holding, in, his Breath, that he might not give
Vindex,
the Satisfaction of a Groan, he determined to perish rather than betray.
In the mean Time,
Ned
had peeped in at the Keyhole, and, spying the Situation and Plight of his loved Patron, he ran to Mrs.
Hannah
and imparted the horrid Tidings.
Hannah
rose, with all the Wrath of
Tisiphone
in her Countenance, and, flying to the School-room, she rushed violently against the Door, burst it open in a twinkling, and, springing forward, fastened every Nail she had in the Face and Eyes of
Vindex,
and tore away and cuffed at a fearful Rate.
Jack
at this Period, had let his Rider to the Ground, when
Harry,
catching at a Sword, that hung against the Wainscot, whipped it down, and drawing it from the Sheath, as quick as Lightning, he sprung at
Vindex,
in order to run him through the Body; but, happily, not having had the Patience to put up his Breeches, they trammelled him in his Advance, and he fell prostrate, with the Sword, in his Hand, which reached the Leg of the Pedagogue and gave him a slight Wound, just as he was endeavouring to make his Way through the Door.
Jack
had, already, made his Escape, and the mauled Preceptor scampered after, with his Ears much better warmed, and his Temper better cooled, than when he entered.
Harry
bore his Misfortune, with a Sort of sullen, though shamefaced, Philosophy. But, every other Member, of this honourable Family, almost adored him for the bloody Proof that he had given of his Virtue; and vowed unpitying Vengeance on the ungenerous
Vindex.
During the above Transactions, the Strangers, whom Mr.
Fenton
had received into his House, had been tended with great Humanity and were, now, on the Recovery.
Mr.
James,
on conversing with the Head of this little Family. Observed that he was an exceeding sensible Person, and had provided him with a decent, though cast, Suit of his Masters; and had also, with the Assistance of Mrs.
Hannah,
put his Wife and little Boy into clean and seemly Apparel.
As
James
's Invention was on the Rack to get adequate Satisfaction on the base spirited
Vindex,
he went to consult his new Friend, who dropped a Tear of Generosity and Admiration, on hearing the Story of
Harry
's Heroism and Nobility of Soul.
By his Advice, Mr.
James
dispatched a Messenger to a Druggist, at
London,
and to several other Shops for a sundry Apparatus, and, having all Things in Readiness, and,
Harry
being now able to bear a Part in the Play;
James
sent a strange Porter to
Vindex,
with Compliments from his Master, as though he were just come home, and requested to speak with him.
Vindex,
accordingly, comes, and knocks. The Door opens, he enters, and it instantly shuts upon him. He starts back with Horror as at the Sight of
Medusa.
He perceives the Hall all in Black, without a single Ray, save what proceeded from a sickly Lamp, that made the Gloom visible. He is suddenly seized upon by two robust Devils covered over with painted Flames. They drag him to the School-Room, but, O Terror of Terrors! he knows the Place of his pristine Authority no more. He beholds a Hell more fearful that his Fancy had yet framed. The Cieling seemed to be vaulted with Serpents, Harpyes, and Hydras, that droppedlivid Fire. On one Side ran
Phlegeton,
in Waves of burning Sulphur. And here, the
Tisiphone, Magaera,
and
Alecto,
of the Heathens, appeared to contend for Frightfulness with
Milton
's Death and Sin. Four Fends, and two little Imps, at once laid their Fangs upon him, and would have drag'd him to the Ground. But the Pedagogue was a sturdy athletic Fellow, and cuffed, and scratched, and roared it out most manfully. The Devil, however, proving too strong for the Sinner, he was cast prostrate to the Earth; and, being left, in Retrospection, as bare as Father Time, some sat upon his Shoulders to keep him down, while others, on each Side, alternately keeping Time, like the Threshers of Barley, gave our Flogger such a Scoring; as imprinted on his Memory to the last State of Magistracy, a fellow-Feeling for the Sufferings of petty Delinquents.
Being all out breathed in turns, they remitted from their Toil; and, now, appeared to be a Set of the merriest Devils that ever were associated. They fastened the Clothes of the disconsolate
Vindex,
about his Neck, with his own Garters; and, having manacled his Hands before him, they turned him loose to the Street. While he, with a wonderful Presence of Mind in the midst of his Terrors, raised his Hands, the best he could, to cover his Face and hurried homeward; judiciously recollecting, that Forty nine, in Fifty, would recognize the one End, who would not recognize the other, especially in the present Pickle.
Within a few Days, after this Adventure, Mr.
Fenton
returned. At the first Sight of one another, he and his
Harry,
grew together for near Half an Hour. He, then, addressed every Member of his Family, One by One; and, with a familiar Goodness, inquired after their several Healths and Concerns. He also asked after his late Guests, and desired to see them; but, on Mr.
James
's Intimation, that he had somewhat of Consequence to impart to him, they retired to the next Room.
Here,
James
made him a minute Recital of the preceding Adventures; and set forth, in due Contrast, the Baseness and Barbarity of
Vindex
on the one Part; and the unassailable Worthiness of his
Harry
on the other. While the Praise, of this chosen of the old Gentleman's Soul, sunk, like the Balm of
Gilead,
upon his wounded Mind, and almost eradicated every Memorial of former Grief, and planted a new Spring of Hope and Joy in their Room.
The Table being spread for Dinner, Mr.
Fenton
sent to desire that the Stranger and his little Family should join Company. They came, according to Order, but entered, evidently overcome with a Weight of Shame and Gratitude too grievous to be borne.
Mr.
Fenton
saw their Oppression, and felt the whole Burden upon his own Shoulders. He, accordingly, was interested and solicitous in the Removal which he effected with all that Address of which his Humanity had made him a great Master.
Through the Enfoldings of the Stranger's Modesty, Mr.
Fenton
discerned many Things preceding the vulgar Rank of Men. Mr.
Clement,
said he, I am astonished, beyond Measure, that a Person of Letters, as you are, and, who has so much of the Gentleman in his Person and Manner, should, yet, be reduced to such Extremity; in a Christian Country, and among a People distinguished for their Humanity. There must be something very singular and extraordinary in your Case. And, this Night, if you are at Leisure, and that the Recital is not disagreeable to you; you would oblige me by your Story.
Sir, answered Mr.
Clement,
since my Life is yours, you have, surely, a Right to an Account of your Property. Whenever you think proper, I will cheerfully obey you.
Mr.
Fenton
now rose, and stepped into Town; and, calling upon a Neighbour whom he took to the Tavern, he sent for Mr.
Vindex
who came upon the Summons.
Mr.
Vindex,
says he, pray take your Seat. I am sorry, Mr.
Vindex,
for the Treatment you have got in my House, and still sorrier that you got it, so very deservedly.
I have long thought, Mr.
Vindex,
that the Method of School-masters, in the Instruction of our Children, is altogether the Reverse of what it ought to be. They, generally, lay hold on the human Constitution, as a Pilot lays hold of the Rudder of a Ship, by the Tail, by the single Motive, I say, of Fear alone.
Now, as Fear has no Concern with any Thing but Self, it is the most confined, most malignant, and the basest, though the strongest, of all Passions.
The Party, who is possessed with it, will listen to nothing but the Dictates of his own Terror, nor scruple any Thing that may cover him from the Evil apprehended. He will prevaricate, and lye; if that Lye is questioned he will vouch it by Perjury; and, if he happens to do an Injury, he will be tempted to commit Murder to prevent the Effects of Resentment.
Fear never was a Friend to the Love of God, or Man, to Duty, or Conscience Truth, Probity, or Honour. It, therefore, can never make a good Subject, a good Citizen, or a good Soldier; and, least of all, a good Christian. Except the Devils, who believe and tremble, are to be accounted good Christians.
How very different is the Lesson which our Master CHRIST teacheth, who commandeth us, not to fear what Man can do unto us; to smile in Sickness and Calamity; to rise superior to Pain and Death; and to regard nothing, but as it leads to the Goal of that Immortality which his Gospel has brought to Light.
There is, Mr.
Vindex,
but one Occasion, wherein Fear may be useful, in Schools or Common-wealths. That is, when it is placed as a Guard against Evil, and appears, with its Ensignia of Rods, Ropes, and Axes, to deter all, who behold, from approaching thereto.
But this, Mr.
Vindex,
is far from being the sole Occasion on which School-masters apply the Motive of Fear and Castigation. They associate the Ideas of Pain to those Lessons and Virtues which the Pleasure of Encouragement ought, alone, to inculcate. They, yet, more frequently apply the Lash, for the Indulgence of their own Weaknesses, and for the Gratification of the Virulence of their own naughty Passions. And I have seen a Giant of a Pedagogue, raving, raging, and foaming over a Group of shrinking Infants; like a Kite over a crouching Parcel of young Turkeys.
There are, I admit some Parents and Preceptors who annex other Motives to that of the Rod. They promise Money, gaudy Clothes, and Sweet Meats to Children; and, in their Manner of expatiating on the Use and Value of such Articles; they often excite, in their little Minds, the Appetites of Avarice, of Vanity, and Sensuality. They, also, sometimes add the Motive of what they call Emulation, but which, in Fact, is rank Envy, by telling one Boy how much happier, or richer, or finer, another is, than himself.
Now, though Envy and Emulation are often confounded, in Terms; there are not two Things more different, both in respect to their Object, and in respect to their Operation. The Object of Envy is the Person, and not the Excellence, of any one; but the Object of Emulation is Excellence, alone; as when CHRIST, exciting us to be emulous of the Excellence of
God
himself, bids us
be perfect, as our Father which is in Heaven is perfect.
The Operation of Envy is to pull others down. But the Act of Emulation is to exalt ourselves to some Eminence or Height proposed. The Eyes of Envy are sore and sickly, and hate to look at the Light. But Emulation has the Eye of an Eagle and soars, while it gazes in the Face of the Sun.
Were Tutors half as solicitous, throughout their Academies, to make Men of Worth, as to make Men of Letters; there are a hundred pretty Artifices, very obvious to be contrived and practised, for the Purpose. They might institute
Caps of Shame,
and
Wreaths of Honour,
in their Schools. They might have little Medals, expressive of particular Virtues, to be fixed on the Breast of the Atchiever, till forfeited by Default. And on the Report of any Boy's having performed a signal Action of Good-Nature, Friendship, Gratitude, Generosity, or Honour; a Place of Eminence might be appointed for him to sit on, while all the rest of the School should bow, in Deference, as they passed. Such Arts, as these, I say, with that distinguishing Affection, and Approbation, which all Persons ought to show to Children of Merit, would soon make a new Nation of Infants, and, consequently, of Men.
When you, Mr.
Vindex,
iniquitously, took upon you to chastise my most noble and most incomparable Boy, you, first, whipped him for his gallant and generous Avowal of the Truth. And, next, you barbarously flead him; because he refused to betray those who had confided in his Integrity.
When I behold so many Scoundrels walking, openly, throughout the Land, who are stiled your Honour, and your Honour, and who, impudently usurp the
most exalted of all Characters,
the Character of
a Gentleman.
I no longer wonder, when I reflect, that they have been principled, or rather unprincipled, by such Tutors as Mr.
Vindex.
The merry Devils, Mr.
Vindex,
who took you in Hand, were not of a Species, so alienated from Humanity, as you might imagine. They have, therefore, appointed me their Vehicle of some Smart-Money, in Recompence, but, desire no further Advantage from your Company or Instructions.
So saying, Mr.
Fenton
put a Purse of five and twenty Guineas into the Hands of the Pedagogue, and withdrew without speaking another Word.
Upon my Credit, this Mr.
Fenton
  I long to know something more of him  he is a sensible kind of a Man, and has given us some very valuable Hints upon Education.    But, may I be so free with you as to drop some general Remarks upon the whole of what I have read?
Free, Sir ?    by all Means  as free as you please, to be sure  believe me, you cannot do me a greater Favour.
Why, there's the Plague on't now,  You begin to kindle already.    Ah, were you Authors to know the thousandth Part of the Liberties that are taken behind your Backs, you would learn to bear, with more Humility, a gentle Admonition though uttered to your Faces.    Few, indeed, have the Generosity, or even Humanity to intimate what they themselves think, or what the World speaks of you. We are seldom over forward to say any Thing that might give Displeasure to others, because we like that others should be pleased with ourselves; but, in your Absence, we pay ourselves largely for our Taciturnity in your Presence; and I have often been in Company, where the Intimates and Confidents of you Authors, have depreciated and ridiculed the very same Passages, which they applauded with Cries and Claps in your Closets. The World, my Friend, has substituted
good Manners
in the Place of
good Nature,
whoever conforms to the former is dispensed with from any Observance of the latter. Shall I add, (for the Misfortune of you Authors,) that there is a Set of Men who, at once, dispense with common Manners and common Humanity. They go under the Name of Crities, and must be Men of Wealth, that the Deference paid to Fortune, may give a Sort of Stamp and Currency to the Dross of their Erudition. In the strictest Sense, indeed, they may be called
Men of Letters,
their Study, as well as Capacity, being nearly confined to a just or orthographical Disposition of the Alphabet. Their Business is to reconoitre the Outworks of Genius, as they have no Key to the Gates of Nature or Sentiment. They snuff Faults from afar, as Crows scent Carrion, and delight to pick, and to prey, and to dwell upon them. They enter, like Wasps, upon the Gardens of Literature, not to relish any Fragrance of select any Sweets, but to pamper their Malevolence with every Thing that savours of Rankness or Offence. Happily for them. their Sagacity does not tend to the Discovery of Merit, in such a Case, a Work of Genius would give them the Spleen for a Month, or possibly depress their Spirits beyond Recovery.
To these high and dreaded
Lords Justiciaries,
the
Critics,
Authors deem it incumbent to submit the Products of their Lucubrations; not in the Prospect of any Advantage from their Advice or Animadversions; neither in the Hopes of acquiring their Friendship or Patronage; but merely to sooth and deprecate the Effects of their Malignity. Accordingly, I have been present, when some of these Dictators have been presented with a Manuscript, as with an humble Petition; they have thereupon assumed the Chair, as a Judge assumes the Bench when a Criminal is called before him, not in order to Trial or Hearing, but to Sentence and Condemnation. To what Scenes of Mortification have I been Witness on such Occasions! to what a State of Abatement, of Abasement, of Annihilation, have these Entertainers of the Public been depressed !    
I am sorry, Sir, to tell you that this will not do.    A few Attempts here and there, but that will not compensate  Here again how injudicious, absurd, unpardonable !    Lord, Sir, you should have considered that when a Man sits down to write for the Public, the least Compliment they expect from him is that he should think  Here, my Friend, I have seen enough, I cannot affront my judgement so much as either to recommend or patronize your Performance, all I can do for you is to be filent on the Subject, and permit Fools to approve who have not Sense to discern.
  Thus do these Critics-paramount, with the Delicacy and Compassion of the Torturers of the Inquisition, search out all the Seats of Sensibility and Self-Complacence, in order to sting with the more quick and killing Poignancy.
Now, my dear Friend, as you have not applied for the Favour of these established Arbitrators of Genius and Literature, you are not to expect the least Mercy from them, and I am also free to tell you that I know of no Writer who lies more open to their Attacks. You are excessively incorrect; your Works, on the one Hand, have not the least Appearance of the
Limae labour;
nor, on the other, have they that Ease which ought to attend the Haste with which they seem to be written. Again, you are extremely unequal and disproportioned; one Moment you soar where no Eye can see, and strait descend with Rapidity to creep in the vulgar Phrase of Chamber Maids and Children. Then you are so desultory that we know not where to have you; you no sooner interest us in one Subject than you drag us, however reluctant, to another; in short, I doubt whether you laid any kind of Plan before you set about the Building; but we shall see how your fortuitous Concourse of Atoms will turn out.
Do I want Nature?
No.
Do I want Spirit?
Rather too much of Fire, at Times.
Do I want Sentiment?
Not altogether.
Then, Sir, I shall be read, and read again, in despight of my own Defects, and of all that you and your Critics can say or do against me. The Truth is, that the Critics are very far from being Bugbears to me; they have always proved my Friends, my best Benefactors; they were the First who writ me into any kind of Reputation; and I am more beholden to their Invectives, than I am to my own Genius, for any little Name I may have got in the World; all I have to fear is that they are already tired of railing, and may not deem me worth their further Notice. --But pray, my good Sir, if you desire that I should profit by your Admonitions, ought you not to give me Instances of the Faults with which you reproach me?
That would be Time and Labour altogether thrown away, as I have not the smallest Hope of bringing you to Confession. You are a Disputant, a Casuist by your Education; you are equally studied and practised in turning any Thing into nothing, or bringing all Things thereout. But don't flatter yourself that I have yet given you the Detail of Half your Faults; you are often paradoxical, and extremely peremptory and desperate in your Assertions. In this very last Page you affirm that the Character of a Gentleman is the most revereable, the highest of all Characters.
I did, Sir, I do affirm it, and will make it good.
I knew it, Sir, I knew it, but don't choose, at present, to enter into the Discussion. At the next Pause, I shall willingly hear you on this Question.
CHAP. VII.
ON his Return, he ordered a Fire and a Bottle of Wine into his Study, and sent for Mr.
Clement.
Mr.
Clement,
says he, sit down. I assure you, Mr.
Clement,
I am inclined to think very well of you. But, pray, let me have the Narrative of your Life and Manners, without Disguise. An ingenuous Confession and Sense of past Errors, has something in it, to me, full as amiable or more, than if a Man had never strayed.
Sir, says Mr.
Clement,
I have, indeed, been faulty, very faulty, in my Intentions; though
God
has, hitherto, preserve'd me from any very capital Act, and has, by your Hand, wonderfully brought me to this Day.
HISTORY OF THE MAN OF LETTERS.
BAR THOLOMEW CLEMENT, Sir, a Retailer of Hard Ware, on the Strand, is my Father. He was low-bred, and, as I believe, of narrow Capacity; but, proceeding in, what they call, the Dog-Trot of Life, and, having a single Eye to the making of Money, he became vastly rich, and has, now, a large Income, from Houses and Ground Rents in the City of
Westminster,
the Fruits and Acquisition of his own Application.
I remember nothing of my Mother, except her Fondness for me, nor of her Character, except the Tears that I have seen my Father shed, when occasional Circumstances have brought her fresh to his Memory. She died, when I was in my seventh Year. I was their only surviving Child; and my Father transferred all his Tenderness, for her, to me.
The Love of my Father was not the mere Partiality or Prejudice of a Parent; it was not an Affection, he had a Passion for me, that could be equalled by nothing but his Vanity, in my behalf. He resolved, he said, that there should be one Gentleman in the Family, and, with this View, he resisted his Desire of having me, always, in his Sight, and sent me to
Westminster
School, and from thence to
Cambridge
-College, where I continued till I was twenty Years of Age, without any Thing happening, that was uncommon, or deserving of your Attention.
In the mean Time, my Father was as prodigal of his Purse, toward me, as he was of his Caresses. He had me with him, ev'ry Vacation. He visited me, frequently, during Term; and seemed to lose the better Half of his Existence, when we parted.
He had infused into me a strong Tincture of his own Vanity and Views. I lost even a Portion of that Tenderness and Respect which I had felt, in his Regard. He was a Trader, a Mechanick, I sighed for his reptile State; and I looked down upon him, as
Icarus
did on that very Father, from whom he had derived Wings for so exalted a Flight.
My Application, accordingly, was equal to my Ambition. I was not, merely, a Master, I was a Critic in the classical Languages. I relished, and commented on the Beauties of the
Greek
and
Latin
Authors. Was a thorough Connoisseur, in the Customs and Manners of the Ancients, and could detect the slightest Transgression of a Sculptor or Designer, in their folding of the
Roman
Toga. I also had the Honour to be intimate with all the Great of Antiquity, I frequently sat, in Synod, with the whole Posse of Heathen Gods, on
Olympus;
and I kept them as I imagined, in a kind of Dependence, by my perfect Knowledge of all their secret Lapses and Mistreadings. I had traced the System of Nature, from
Aristotle
and
Pythagoras
down to
Epicurus
and
Lucretius,
and from them down to
Des Cartes, Gassendi,
and
Hobbes,
and, I was so thorough paced an Adept in all the Subtleties of Logic; that I could confute, and change Sides, without losing an Inch of the Ground that I had gained upon my Adversary.
I now, imagined that I was arrived at the very Pinnacle of human Excellence, and that Fortune and Honour were within my Grasp, on either Hand. I looked on the Chancellorship; or Primacy, as Things that must come, in Course. And I was contriving some Station more adequate to the Height of my Merits and Ambition, when I received this Letter.
Son
Hammel,
HAVE lately enquired into thy Life and Character, am sorry to find them too bad to give Hope of Amendment. Have lost my Money, and my Child. Thou hast cut thyself from my Love. I have cut thee from my Fortune. To comfort myself, have taken a Neighbour's Widow to Wife. Come not near me, I will not see thee. Would pray for thee if I did not think it in vain.
Bartholomew Clement.
For some Time after the receipt of this cruel Letter, I remained in a State of Stupidity. I could not believe the Testimony of my Senses. I gave a kind of Discredit to all Things. But, awaking from this Lethargy into inexpressible Anguish, my Soul was rent by different and contending Passions.
Whatever Contempt I might have for the Station of my Father, I still loved his Person better than Riches and Honours. But he loved me no more, he was gone, he was lost; he was already dead and buried, at least to me. I cast myself on the Ground, I groaned, I wept aloud, I bewail'd him, as though he had lain a lifeless Corpse, before me. At length having vented the first Ravings of my Passion; I rose and wrote to my Father an Answer, of which this, in my Pocket-Book, is the Copy.
SIR,
IF you had not wished to find those Faults you sent to seek after, in a Life that defies Malice and is wholly irreproachable, you would not have given Credit to Scoundrels who cannot judge of the Conduct of a Gentleman, nor have condemned your only Child, without Hearing or Defence.
In cutting me from your Fortune, you only cut me from what I despise, but, in cutting me from your Love, you have, unjustly, robbed me of that which no Fortune can repair. I see that you are, irretrievably, taken away from me. I shall never more behold my long indulgent and fond Father; and I shall not cease to lament his Loss with Tears of filial Affection. But, for this new Father, whose Heart could dictate so unnatural and inhuman a Letter, I equally disclaim all Commerce and Concern with him. And, could it be possible that a Person, of my Talents and Abilities, should be reduced to Indigence or Distress; you, Sir, are the very last Man upon Earth, to whom I would apply, or from whom I would deign to accept Relief.
But if, on the other Hand, it should please GOD, hereafter, to visit your Hard-heartedness with Affliction and Poverty; and that I, like the Son of the Black-Smith, in the Days of our eighth
Harry,
should stand next the Throne in Dignity and Honours; you will then find me desirous of making you all Sorts of Submissions, you will then find the dutifullest, the fondest, and tenderest of Children, in,
SIR,
Your little known and much injured,
Hammel Clement.
Having thus vented the Gusts and Feelings of my Heart, I began, seriously, to think of the Course I ought to take; and considered
London
as the Sphere in which a Luminary would appear with the greatest Lustre.
I discharged my Servant. Sold my two Geldings. Disposed of my Room, my Furniture, and most of my Books. And, having mustered somewhat upward of three hundred and fifty Pounds, I lodged the Â£300 with a
Cambridge
Dealer, from whom I took Bills on his Correspondent in
London;
and set out, on my Expedition, in the first Stage.
I took cheap Lodgings, near
Charing-Cross;
I was, altogether unknowing and unknown in that great City; and, reflecting that a hidden Treasure cannot be duely estimated, I daily frequented
Markham
's Coffee-House, amidst a promiscuous Resort of Swords-men, Literati, Beaus, and Politicians.
Here, happening to distinguish myself, on a few Occasions, where some Articles of ancient History, or Tenet of
Thales,
or Law of
Lycurgus,
chanced to be in Question; I began to be regarded with better Advantage.
An elderly Gentleman, one Day, who sat attentive in a Corner, got up and whispered that he would be glad of my Company to take share of a Pint in the next Room. I gratefully obeyed the Summons, and, when we had drank a Glass a Piece; Mr.
Clement,
says he, you appear to have but few Acquaintance, and may, possibly, want a Friend. My Fortune is small, but, I have some Influence in this Town; and, as I have taken an Inclination to you, I should be glad to serve you. If the Question is not too free, pray, what is your present Dependence, and Prospect for Life?
Having, with a grateful Warmth, acknowledged his Goodness to me, I, ingenuously, confessed that my Circumstances were very slender, and, that I should be glad of any Place wherein I could be useful to myself and my Employer. And pray, says my Friend, what Place would best suit you? I hope, Sir, answered I, my Education has been such, that, laying aside the manual Crafts, there is not any Thing for which I am not qualified. I am greatly pleased to hear it, replied Mr.
Goodville,
and hope, soon, to bring you News that will not be disagreeable.
Within a few Days, Mr.
Goodville,
again, entered the Coffee-house with a happy Aspect. He beckoned me aside.
Clement,
says he, I have the Pleasure to tell you that I have brought you the Choice of two very advantageous Places. Mr.
Giles,
the Banker, wants a Clerk who can write a fine Hand, and has made some Proficiency in Arithmetic. And, my good Friend Mr.
Tradewell,
an eminent Merchant, would give large Encouragement to a Youth who understands the
Italian
Method of Book-keeping; as his Business is very extensive and requires the shortest and clearest Manner of Entry and Reference.
My Friend here paused; and I blushed, hung down my Head, and was wholly confounded. At length, I answered, hesitatingly, Perhaps, Sir, you have happened on the only two Articles, in the Universe, (Mechanics, as I said, apart,) of which I have no Knowledge. Well, well, my Boy, says he, don't be discouraged, I will try what further may be done in your Behalf.
Within about a Fortnight after, Mr.
Goodville
sent me a Note to attend him at his Lodgings, in
Red-lion Square.
I went, flushed with reviving Hope. My Child, said he, as I entered, I have, now, brought you the Offer of three different Places; and, some one of them, as I trust, must surely fit you.
Our
East-india
Company propose to make a Settlement on the Coast of
Coromandel,
and are inquisitive after some Youths who have made a Progress in Geometry, and are, more especially, studied in the Science of Fortification. There is, also, the Colonel of a Regiment, an old Intimate of mine, who is going on foreign Service, and he, in Truth, applied to me, to recommend a Person who was skilled in the Mechanic Powers, and, more particularly, who had applied himself to Gunnery and Engineering. There is, lastly, the second Son of a Nobleman to whom I have the Honour to be known; he is Captain of a Man of War, and would give any Consideration to a young Man of Sense and Letters, who is a Poficient, in Navigation and in the Use of the Charts and Compass, and who, at the same Time, might serve as a Friend and Companion.
Sir, said I, quite astonished, I have been a Student, as
Goliah
was a Man of War, from my Childhood. If all my Tutors did not flatter me, my Genius was extensive; and my Progress, in Learning, may prove that my Application has been indefatigable. I know all Things, from the Beginning of Time, that the ancient or modern World, as I was told, accounted Matters of valuable Erudition or Recognizance; and, yet, I have not so much as heard of the Use or Estimation of any of these Sciences required, as you say, by Persons in high Trust and Commission.
Mr.
Goodville,
hereupon, looked concerned and shook his Head. My dear
Clement,
says he, I do not doubt your Talents or Learning; but, I, now, begin to doubt whether they have been directed or applied to any useful Purpose. My Cousin
Goodville
informs me that the Bishop of St.
Asaph
is in Distress for a young Gentleman, a Man of Morals and a Linguist, who has some Knowledge in the Canon and Civil Law, as his Vicar General is, lately, dead. He tells me, further, that a Gentleman, a Friend of his, who is in great Circumstances, and who is now about purchasing the Place of Surveyor General, wants a Youth who has got some little smattering in Architecture, and has an elegant Hand at the Drawing of Plans and Sections. I am also known to one of the Commissioners of Excise, and, if you are barely initiated in Gauging, or Surveying, I think I could get you into some Way of Bread.
Alas, Sir, I replied, in a despondent Tone, I am equally a Stranger to all these Matters.
Perhaps, said Mr.
Goodville,
I could get you into holy Orders, if you are that way inclined. Are you well read in
Theology?
Yes, yes, Sir, I briskly answered, I am perfectly acquainted with the Gods and Manners of Worship, through all Nations, since the Deluge.
But, are you, replied my Friend, equally versed in the Christian Dispensation? Have you studied our learned Commentators on the Creeds; are you read in
Polemic
Divinity? and, are you a Master of the Sense and emblematical Reference that the Old Testament bears to the New?
Sir, said I, I have often dipped, with Pleasure, into the Bible, as there are many Passages, in it, extremely affecting; and others full of fine Imagery and the true Sublime.
My poor dear Child, (mournfully answered Mr.
Goodville,
) by all I can find, you know no one Thing, of Use to yourself, or any other Person living, either with respect to this World or the World to come. Could you make a Pin, or a Waistcoat Button, or form a Pill Box, or weave a Cabbage Net, or shape a Cobler's Last, or hew a Block for a Barber, or do any of those Things by which Millions, daily, maintain themselves, in supplying the Wants and Occasions, or Fashions and Vanities of others; you might not be under the Necessity of perishing.
The Ways of Life, for which your Studies have best prepared you, are Physic and the Law. But, then, they require great Expense, and an intense Application of many Years to come, before you can propose to enter on a Livelihood, by either of those Professions. And, after all, your Success would be very precarious, if you were not supported, by many Friends and a strong Interest, at least on your setting out.
I have, already, told you,
Clement,
that I am not rich; and, if I were; it is not he who gives you Money, but he who puts you into a way of getting it, that does you a Friendship.
I am advised to go to
Montpellier
for the Establishment of my Health, after a tedious Fit of Sickness that I had at
Bath.
I shall set out, in about a Month. But, before I go, my Child, I earnestly wish, and advise you, to fix on some Craft, or Trade, or Manner of employing your Time, that will enable you to earn a certain Subsistance, and, at the same Time, make you a worthy Member of the Community. For, believe me, my Boy, that it is not speculative Science; no, nor all the Money and Jewels upon Earth, that make any Part of the real Wealth of this World. It is Industry, alone, employed on Articles that are useful and beneficial to Society, that constitutes the true Riches of all Mankind.
As soon as you have made your Election, let me see you again. And, in all events, let me see you before I set out.
Hereupon, I bowed and retired, the most mortified and dejected of all Beings. I was so low and dispirited that I could scarce get to my Lodgings. I threw myself on the Bed. The Gildings of the Vapours of Grandeur and Ambition, that like the Sky of a Summer's Evening had delighted my Prospects, now wholly disappeared, and a Night of succeeding Darkness fell heavy on my Soul.
One third of my principal Fund was almost sunk; and my Imagination considered the Remainder, as already vanished, without the Possibility of Supply or Resource. I, now, secretly cursed the Vanity of my Father: He must breed me a Genman, thought I, with a Pox, as though I had been born to no Manner of End. Had I been the Son of a Cobler, of a Porter, an Ostler, of the lowest Wretch who wins his Bread by the Sweat of his Brow; I should not yet have been reduced to the worst Species of Beggary, that of begging with sound Limbs and a reasonable Soul, the least pitied, though most pitiable Object of the Creation; for, surely, that is the Case of a poor Scholar and a poor Gentleman.
For some following Days, I went about, prying and enquiring into the various and numberless Occupations that maintained so many Thousands of active Hands and busy Faces, throughout that wonderful City.
One Evening, as I returned late, and fatigued, through
Cheapside,
I observed a Man very importunate with a Woman who walked before me. Sometimes she would hurry on, and, again, make a full Stop, and earnestly beseech him to go about his Business; but, in spite of her Entreaties, he still stuck close to her, till, coming to the End of a blind Alley, he, suddenly, seized her by the Arm, and pulled her in after him.
She shrieked out for Help, with repeated Vociferation; when, recollecting all my Force, and drawing my Sword; Villain, I cried out, quit the Woman, instantly, or you are a dead Man. He perceived the Glittering of the Weapon and retired a few Paces; but, taking out a Pocket Pistol, he discharged it full at me, and ran off with Precipitation.
The Ball entered my Clothes and Flesh and lodge'd on the Rotula of my left Arm. I felt a short Pang, but, not attending to it, I took the Woman under the Arm, and, returning with her to the Street, I told her we had no Time to lose, and desired to know where she lived. She answered, at the Sign of the Fan and Ruffle, in
Fleet Street,
where she kept a Milliner's Shop. We had not far to go; we made the best of our Speed, and were let in by a Servant Maid who showed us to a back Parlour.
Jenny,
said Mrs.
Graves,
(that was her Name) bring a Glass and a Bottle of the Cordial-Wine, you look a little pale, Sir, I hope you are not hurt. Not much, I think, Madam, but I feel a small Pain in my left Shoulder. Sir, here is my best Service to you, with my best Blessings and Prayers for you to the last Hour of my Life. You must drink it off, Sir, we both stood in Need of it; this was a frightful Affair.
Jenny,
where's
Arabella?
within a few Doors, Madam, at the Miss
Hodginses.
Come, Sir, said Mrs.
Graves,
I must look at your Shoulder, then, opening the Top of my Waistcoat, she, instantly screamed out. God preserve my Deliverer! I fear he is wounded dangerously.
Jenny,
fly to Mr.
Weldon
's, bring him with you, immediately, do not come without him. Dearest, worthiest of Men, let me press another Glass upon you. It is necessary in such a Waste of Blood and Spirits. Madam, I replied, the Wound can't be of Consequence, but, I was greatly fatigued, at the Time that I had the Happiness to rescue you from that Ruffian.
The Surgeon soon came, and, looking at my Wound, said something apart, to Mrs.
Graves,
who, thereupon, ordered
Jenny
to get a Fire and to make, and warm the Bed in the best Chamber.
Sir, said I to Mr.
Weldon,
don't alarm the Gentlewoman. I am not of a fearful Temper and hope to bear my Fortune like a Man, Sir, said he, your Wound has been made by a rifled Ball, and it may cost you much Pain to extract it. You must not think of stirring from hence, for the present. By the Time your Bed is ready, I will be back with the Dressings.
During the Surgeon's Absence, Mrs.
Graves
was all in Tears; while I sat suspended between my natural Fears of an approaching Dissolution, and my Hopes of being suddenly and lastingly provided for. The Cruelty of my Father, the Disappointment and overthrow of all my elevated Expectations, and my utter Incapacity of being of the smallest Use to myself or Mankind, had given me a kind of Loathing to Life. I had not, indeed, attended to my Duty as a Christian! but, I was, then, Innocent of any actual or intentional Evil, and as my Conscience did not condemn me, I looked to Mercy with a kind of humble Resignation.
Mr.
Weldon
came with the Dressings, his eldest Apprentice, and a Man Servant. I was, then conducted to my Chamber and helped to Bed, where I was put to great Anguish in the Extraction of the Ball; as the Periostium had been lacerated, and that the Lead, being flattened, extended much beyond the Wound it had made.
Having passed a very painful and restless Night, I remembered nothing further till at the Expiration of one and twenty Days, I seemed to awaken out of a long and uneasy Dream.
I turned my Head and beheld as I imagined, all arrayed in shining White, and at my Bedside, an Inhabitant of some superior Region; for never till then had I seen, nor even conceived an Idea of any Form so lovely.
Tell me, said I, fair Creature, on what World am I thrown? But instead of replying, it flew out of my Apartment and soon after, returned, accompanied by Mrs.
Graves,
whose Hands and Eyes were elevated, as in some extraordinary Emotion.
Mrs.
Graves,
said I, how do You do? I hope You are well. I now beign to conjecture whereabouts I am. But, neither did she answer; but, falling on her Knees by my Bed, and taking hold of my Hand, I thank, I thank thee, O my God, she cried, and, bursting into Tears, she wept and sobbed like an Infant. Ah, Mrs.
Graves,
said I, I fear that you have had a very troublesome Guest of me. But then, says she, we remember that Trouble no more, now that you are, once again, born into the World.
During the few succeeding Days, in which I kept my Bed, Mrs.
Graves
and her fair Niece
Arabella,
whom I had taken for a Vision, constantly breakfasted and spent their Evening in my Apartment.
I gave them a short Narrative of my foregoing History; and understood, on their Part, that they were the Sister and Daughter of the late reverend Mr.
Graves
of
Putney,
who had little more to bequeath than his Books and Furniture, amounting to about five hundred Pounds, which they held, in joint Stock, and had, hitherto, rather increased than diminished.
As I scarce remembered my Mother, and had now, as it were no Father, Relation, nor Friend upon Earth, I felt a Vacuity in my Soul, somewhat like that of an empty Stomach, desirous of seizing on the first Food that should present itself to my Cravings. Delightful Sensibilities! Sweet Hungerings of Nature after its Kind! This good Woman and her Niece became all the World to me. The one had conceived, for me, all the Passion of a Parent; the other, that of the fondest and tenderest of Sisters. On the other Hand, I had, for Mrs.
Graves,
all the Feelings of a Child who conceives himself a Part of the Existence of her who bore him; and my Eyes and Actions could not forbear to discover, to
Arabella,
that my Heart was that of the most affectionate of Brothers, though too delicate to indulge itself in those familiar Endearments which the Nearness of Kindred might venture to claim.
When I was up and about the House, I requested Mrs.
Graves
to make out her Bill for my Board, and for Physician, Surgeon, Drugs,
&c.
during my long Illness. Hereupon, she looked eagergly and tenderly at me. Mr.
Clement,
says she, I think you are too generous, designedly, to reproach us with what we owe you. But, for what is it, my Child, that you desire us to charge you? Is it for rescuing me from Death, or a Shame worse than Death, probably, from both? or, is it for delivering this my Darling from the bitter Grief and Distress that my Loss must have brought upon her? Or, do you, rather, desire to pay us for the fearful Pains and Sickness which you suffered on our Account, and for having, nearly, forfeited your Life in our Defence? No, Mr.
Clement,
you must not think of paying us the very Debts that we owe you; more indeed, Mr.
Clement,
than all our little Fortune, than the Product of the Industry of our Lives can ever repay.
Here, I was silenced, for the present, but, in no Degree convinced. And I felt, in a sort, the Disgust of an injured Person, uneasy and studious, till some Revenge might be had.
In two Days after, while Mrs.
Graves
was at Market, and
Arabella
gone, with a Brussels Head and Ruffles, to a young Lady of Distinction; I stepped into the Shop, where
Jenny
waited the Commands of those that should call. I had scarce entered, when a Sheriff's Officer, appeared at the Door, and, bolting in laid an Execution on the Shop, for eighty five Pounds odd Shillings, at the Suit of Mr.
Hardgrave
the Cambric and Lace-Merchant.
I was, at first, surprised and grieved, but Pleasure, quickly, succeeded to my Concern on the Occasion. I took out my Pocket-Book, immediately discharged the Debt, with Costs, and gave a Crown to
Jenny,
on her solemn Assurance that she would not betray a Syllable of what had happened to her Mistress or
Arabella.
Soon after, this good Gentlewoman and her Niece returned, Dinner was ordered up, and I sat down to Table with a Heart and Countenance more easy and cheerful than ordinary.
Before the Cloth was removed,
Jenny
came and delivered a Note to her Mistress. She read it over and over with apparent Surprise and Attention, asked if the Messenger was waiting, and stepped to the Door. Again, she returned, sat down without speaking a Word, and, the Muscles of her Countenance being strongly affected, she could no longer retain her Passion, and her Tears burst forth.
What is the Matter, cried
Arabella,
my Aunt, my dear dear Mother, my only Friend and Parent? and, breaking also into Tears, she threw herself about her Neck?
Oh, there is no bearing of this, exclaimed Mrs.
Graves.
This young Man, my
Arabella,
distresses us beyond Expression. He has, this very Day, my Love, for the second Time, snatched us from instant Ruin. I would tell you, if I could speak; but read that Note. Which she did, accordingly.
The Note was signed
Freestone Hardgrave,
and imported how sorry he was, that his late Losses, by Sea, had put him under the Necessity of laying an Execution on her House, without customary Notice. That he was glad, however, she had so large a Sum ready as Â£90, the Receipt of which he acknowledged; and hoped that this Affair would make no Difference with respect to their future Dealings.
And why, best and dearest of Women, said I to Mrs.
Graves,
why would you grieve that I should endeavour to relieve myself from a Part of that Burden, with which you Goodness and Obligations have so greatly oppressed me? Oh, that it were, that it were in my Power, I cried, and my Hands pressed each-other with an involuntary Ardour, but, it never will, it never can be possible, for me, to prove the Passion that my Soul has for you and  there I hesitated  to show you, I say, the Love that I have for you, Mrs.
Graves.
You two make my World, and all that I am concerned for or desire therein.
Since that is the Case, said Mrs.
Graves,
with a Smile and a Tear that glistened together, if you will admit an equal Passion, from one so old as I am, it were pity we should ever part. Send, my Child, this very Day, and discharge your former Lodgings. The Time that we spend together can't but be happy, All Cares are lessened by the Society of those we love; and our Satisfactions will be doubled by feeling for Each-other.
I did not, at that Time, know the whole Reason of the Delight with which I accepted this generous Invitation. I settled at Mrs.
Graves
's without any formal Agreement; and all my little Matters were, directly, brought home.
O, how happy were many succeeding Days! how, still, more happy, when contrasted with the Misery that ensued! We spent all the Time together, that Business and Attention to the Shop would permit; and we grudged every Moment that was spent asunder. I related to them a thousand entertaining Stories, and Passages, occasionally recollected from the Poets and Historians of Antiquity. And a secret Emotion, and inward Ardour for pleasing, gave me, fluently, to intersperse sentimental Observations and pertinent Digressions, more delightful to my Auditory than all my quoted Authorities.
I was, now, daily gathering Health and Strength, to which the Complacence of my Mind greatly contributed; when, one Evening, Mrs.
Graves
returned, more dejected than ordinary. I inquired into the Cause, with a Solicitude and Countenance that, naturally, expressed the Interest I took in her Concerns. Why, my dear Child, says she, perhaps I have been both impertinent and indiscreet, but I meant all for the best. You must know, then, that I have been on a Visit to your Father. To my Father, Madam! Even so. I would to Heaven, that he were worthy to be called Father to such a Son. But, as I was saying.
Your Father, Mr.
Clement,
is in great Circumstances; he keeps his Coach, has taken a fine new House, and lives at a high Rate. I sent in my Name, with Notice that I came to him on Business of Consequence. I was, thereupon, shown to a back Parlour, where he sat, in Company with Mrs.
Clement
and a lusty ill looking young Gentleman; but, your Stepmother has a comely and good humoured Countenance; she also appears to be far advanced in her Pregnancy. Mrs.
Graves,
said your Father, take a Seat. What are your Commands with me, Madam? I came, Sir, to let you know that your Son, Mr.
Hammel Clement,
the best of human Beings, has been on the Point of Death. Have you nothing to say to me, Madam, but what concerns my Son
Hammel?
I have not, I confess, Sir, but that is more than enough; it is very interesting and affecting, and concerns you most nearly. Here, Mr.
Clement,
for I will never more call him by the sacred Name of Father, here, I say, he started up, and, catching at a Book, he pressed it to his Lips, and cried, I swear by the Virtue of this and all other holy Books, that I will never listen to any Person who would speak a single Word in Behalf of
Hammel Clement,
and so, Mrs. give me leave to show you the way out again. So saying, he caught my Hand and drew me to the Door, while I turned, and cried to your Stepmother, O Madam, what sort of a Heart is yours, that refuses its Intercession on this Occasion? but she gave me an Eye and Sneer, of such a mischievous Meaning, as expressed the whole Fiend under the Guise of an Angel. When Mr.
Clement
had taken me to the outward Door, I just turned, and said, I am sorry, Sir, that a Man, of your grave and sensible Appearance, should suffer yourself to be so duped, by People whose Interest it is to deceive you. But, swelling into Choler, he gave me a violent Push from him, and clapped to the Door in my Face. So that, in short, my dear Child, I fear I have done you Harm, where I meant you true Service.
It matters not, my Mother, said I, (endeavouring to suppress a Tear of tender Resentment) I will soon, I trust, procure some kind of Independence on that
Barbarian
and his Fortune; and, while I have you and your
Arabella,
I shall want neither Father nor Friend.
Being, now, very nearly, re-established in my Health, I set out again, in search after some Employment that might suit me. As I was strolling, on
Tower Hill,
I observed a Shop on my left Hand; it was that of Mr.
Wellcot,
a Bookseller and Printer. I stepped in, and, after some introductory Discourse, I asked him if he had Occasion, in the way of his Business, for a Friend of mine; a Gentleman, in Distress, but of Parts and Learning. Alas, Sir, cried
Wellcot,
such Creatures, as you mention, are a Drug upon Earth; there is a Glut of them in all Markets. I would give any one a broad Piece
per
Man who should deliver me from three or four of them, who lie heavy on my Hands. Not, Sir, that they are greedy, or idle, in the least. I can get one of these Gentlemen, as you are pleased to call them, on whose Education more Money has been expended than, at the common and legal Interest, would maintain a decent Family, to the End of the World, I can get one of them, I say, to labour, like a hackney Horse, from Morning to Night, at less Wages than I could hire a rascally Porter, or Shoe Boy, for three Hours. I employ them, occasionally, in correcting the Press, or folding, or stitching the Sheets, or runing of Errands. But then, Sir, they have, all of them, Aspects, of such a bilcous Despondence, that a Man may, with less Melancholy, behold a Death's Head. And really, Sir, I could not stand it, if Custom, as I may say, did not harden me by the perpetual Vision of these Spectres.
While
Wellcot,
was speaking, I made a secret Vow against having any kind of Commerce or Concern, with Booksellers or Printers, for, at least, a Century to come. But, fearing to be suspected as a Party concerned, I affected an Air, as easy as possible, and, observing some Females, who were busy in stitching Pamphlets, I asked him if they contained any Thing new or entertaining.
Sir, said
Wellcot,
this is an elaborate Performance of the most eminent of our Patriot Writers; I pay him, at the lowest, five Guineas, weekly. And, could any Man write, with double his Spirit and Genius, I could better afford to give that Author an Hundred. For, good Writings are like Diamonds, that are valued, according to their Carrats; do but double their Weight, and they, immediately become of twenty Times the Estimation.
This Pamphlet consisted of a Sheet, sewed in blew Paper. I instantly, paid my two-pence, and sat down to peruse it, I found that it contained several very free Remonstrances, against his Majesty, and the Ministers, for joining with
France
in the War against
Holland,
in opposition to the civil and religious Interests of
England.
Together, with a few collateral Digressions, in Assertion of
Magna Charta,
of the Freedom of Man, in general; and of
Britons,
in particular. I perceived that it was written with much more judgement than Genius. And what, said I to
Wellcot,
will you give to that Man who shall, confessedly, excel this your most eminent of Patriot Writers, upon his own Subject, and in his own Way? Give Sir? Cried the Bookseller, many Thanks, and a proportionable Increase of Profits. Enough, Sir, I answered, you shall soon hear from me again. I wish you a good Morrow.
On my Return, I called at Mr.
Goodville
's, but he had sailed for
France,
about a Fortnight before. I, then, went about to a Number of Pamphlet-Shops, and bought up all the political Papers that had any Reference to the Matter in Hand.
I sat down to my Work, like a hungry Man to his Victuals; and I grudged my Heart those short Indulgencies, which it enjoyed in the Society of the two Objects of its fondest Affections.
Having finished my first Paper, in about a Fortnight, I entitled it the WEEKLY MONITOR, and took it directly to
Wellcot
's. Here, Sir, said I, is my Friend's first Venture. But, has your Friend, demanded
Wellcot,
in a discouraging Accent, sent the usual Indemnity for the first Impression of a young Author? That shall not be wanting, I answered, if you require it, Mr.
Wellcot.
Why, said he, I do not take upon me to be a Judge in these Matters; and yet, Custom has given me a shrewd sort of a Guess. Come, Sir, I have a few Minutes to throw away, and they are, at your Service.
He, then, sat down, and, having read about a Dozen Lines, Ay, ay! says he, they don't, always, do thus at
Newmarket;
your Friend, I find, has set out at the Top of his Speed. Going on, something further, he cried, well supported by   ! and, then, proceeding to the third Page, this, says he, must have been stollen from one of the Ancients, because there is no modern who could write like it. Well, Sir, you need not give yourself further Trouble, for the present. I will print this first Paper at my own Suit. Desire your Friend to be careful about the Second. Call to me, in a Week, and, I think I shall be able to tell you something that will please you.
How diligent is Expectation, how elevated is Hope! I returned with the Feathers of
Mercury
at my Heels. I set about my second Paper, with double Genius and Application. My Ideas were more expanded, my Spirits more sublimed. All the Persuasives of
Cicero;
all the Thunder of
Demosthenes;
all that I had read, on the Topic of Liberty, in popular Governments, or Common-wealths, occurred to my Remembrance.
I finished my second Essay, within the Week. I went with it to
Wellcot,
and he presented me, at Sight, with twenty Guineas. It is more, said he, than hitherto comes to your Share; but, I love to encourage, and I trust that, in the Run, I shall not be a Loser. I sell this Pamphlet for two Pence. Nearly two Fourths thereof go to Printing, Paper,
&c.
another Fourth I reserve, as an Equivalent for my Application and Knowledge in this Way; and, the Remainder is a Redundance which, on extraordinary Tides, ought to flow to the Writer. The Demand, for this Paper, has been very uncommon; and, by what I can judge, the Sale may, in Time, amount to twelve Thousand. You need not, Sir, be ashamed to acknowledge yourself the Author. Preserve but a Moiety of the Spirit, of this
Elijah,
with which you have set out, and my own Interests will instruct me to serve you effectually.
I now returned, as in a triumphal Chariot. I never, before, received the Prize, as I may say, of personal Prowess. The Fortune of my Father, the Fortune of all Men living, who were merely born to Fortune, diminished beneath me. O, how sweet, said I, to myself, how delicious are the Fruits of a Man's own Plantation! Then, like the sagacious and independent Spider, his Labours will be crowned, with personal Honour and Success, while he spins his Subsistance from his proper Bowels. It is then, and then only, that a Man may be said to be the true Proprietor of What he possesses; and the Value is endeared, and the Enjoyment doubled thereby.
I hastened to impart my Transports to the two loved Objects of all my Cares and Satisfactions.
Jenny
told me that her Mistress was not at Home, but, that Miss
Arabella
was above in her Closet. I ran up. I tapped at the Door, but no one answered. Again I tapped, and added the soft Voice of Affection, requesting to be admitted. At length she opened, but looked pale, and with swollen and downcast Eyes. I perceived she had been in Tears, and a sudden Frost fell upon all my Delights. What is the Matter Miss, I cried, my Sister, my sweet Friend, my dearest
Arabella;
and I gently took her Hand between both of mine. I wish you had not come, at this Time, Mr.
Clement,
said she, coolly. But, you must permit me to keep my little Griefs to myself. Yes, I replied, if it is your Pleasure to torture, to kill me outright, refuse me my Portion in your Interests and Concerns. O, Mr.
Clement,
says she, your Soul is too generous, I dare not tell you. I feel what you would suffer, should you know that you are concerned in the Cause of my Tears. But, we must part, Sir, indeed, we must; we must part, Mr.
Clement,
and that suddenly.
Here, her Voice failed, and, throwing herself into a Chair, she burst out afresh, into a Gush of Affliction. While I stood astonished; and, dropping beside her on one Knee, awaited, with unspeakable Anguish, the Suspension of her Grief.
At length perceiving my Situation, rise Sir, she cried, I entreat you to rise and take a Chair beside me; and I will tell you, as fast as I can, of this distressful Business.
You must know that I was, a while ago, to the Miss
Hodginses.
They are very friendly, and good young Women, and told me, in Confidence, though with much Concern, of a Whisper, in the Neighbourhood, that my Aunt had entertained a young Gentleman, in the House, who was admitted to such familiar and convenient Intimacies as could not, at all Times, be without their Consequence, especially, between Persons of our Age and Sex.
Now, Mr.
Clement,
I am no way ashamed to confess that I have nothing in Heaven but my Innocence, nor on Earth but my Character; and, I think you wish me better, than to desire that I should forfeit the one, or the other. Desire it! O Heavens! I suddenly exclaimed, I will for ever guard them both, to the last Drop of my Blood, and last Breath of my Life. Alas, cried
Arabella,
you are the Man, of all others, whom the World would not admit for my Champion, in this Case; they are absolute Judges, they ought to be obeyed, our Parting will be painful, but it must be complyed with.
But, my Sister, my
Arabella,
most lovely and most beloved of all the Human Species; tell me, says I, my Angel, is there no other Way, no Expedient to satisfy a misdeeming World, save a Remedy that is worse than Death itself? No, said she, with an Air somewhat resolute and exalted, there is no other Expedient, at least, no other, to which I can consent. O, Miss
Graves,
answered I, with a hasty Dejection, if that is the Case, you shall be obeyed; I am, indeed, very unhappy, but I will not be importunate, Adieu, dearest of Creatures, adieu, for ever! I spoke, and suddenly withdrew, and gave her, as I imagined, the last farewell Look.
Hold, Sir, she cried, pray stay a Moment. I should be wretched, beyond Expression, if you went away in the greatest of all Errors. But, is it possible, you should think that I could mean any Slight to you, Mr.
Clement?
No, Sir, no, of all Men living, indeed, it was not possible. I spoke, through an humble Sense of my own Demerits; my Determination was just, I do not repent me of it. I  I  perhaps, Sir, I have not understood you  Indeed I scarce know what I say or mean, myself  Of this however be assured, that I neither do, nor ever did, nor ever can, mean any Offence to Mr.
Clement.
While she spoke I had kneeled before her. I took her Hand and pressed it to my Lips and Bosom. My
Arabella,
said I, I confess that this was no premeditated Motion of mine. Nay, this very Morning, the World should not have prevailed with me to have accepted this Hand, for which I now kneel. I was, then, poor and wretched, without Resource. And, I could not think of bringing Distress upon her, independent of whose Happiness I could have no Enjoyment. I was sensible that I loved you, with infinite Tenderness, with unspeakable Ardour; but, my Passion did not dare to admit of Desire. I could have suffered all Things to have heaped Blessings upon you; but I would not permit to my Soul the distant, though dear Wish, of being happy with you  Ah, what Posture is this! exclaimed
Arabella.
Nay, you shall not stir, I cried, nor will I rise till you have heard me a few Words. Since Morning, I say, I have got Room to hope that my
Arabella
would not be so unhappy, as I feared, in being united to me. I will not urge her however. I leave her free, I leave her Mistress of her own Will and Actions. But, here I vow to Heaven, that whether she live or die, consent, or not consent, I will never marry another. I am, from this Moment, her Wedded for Eternity, the faithful and fond Husband of her Image and Remembrance.
So saying, I rose and seated myself beside her. She looked astonished, and affected beyond the Power of Utterance. But, covering her Face with a Handkerchief, she gently leaned toward me, and shed a plenteous Shower of Tears upon my Bosom.
When Mrs.
Graves
returned, I told her of my extraordinary Success at the Booksellers, I had, before, made her the Treasurer of my little Possessions, and I poured my twenty Pieces into her Lap.
Arabella,
as I conjectured, did not delay to impart, to her Aunt, the late Adventure; for I observed that the Eyes of that good Woman, dwelt upon me with a fresh Accession of Fondness and Delight.
Having finished my third Paper, I took it to
Wellcot,
who presented me with twenty Guineas, and, further, acknowledged himself my Debtor. Returning homeward, I cast up, in a pleasing kind of mental Arithmetic, how much my weekly twenty Guineas would amout to at the Years End, and found it much beyond my Occasions, even in the State of Matrimony.
I now looked upon myself, as in the certain Receit of a plentiful Income; and this encouraged me to press for the Completion of my Happiness. Decency, alone, could give Difficulty or Delay, in an Affair that was, equally, the Wish of all Parties. We were privately married, in the Presence of the Miss
Hodginses
and two or three other Neighbours; and I was put into Possession of the blushingest, fearfullest, and fondest of all Brides.
Job,
very justly, says,
shall we receive Good at the Hands of God and not receive Evil?
And yet, I imagine, that the Recollection, of past Happiness, rather heightens than alleviates the Sense of present Distress. My Soul, in those Days, enjoyed a Tide of Delight, to the Fullness of its Wishes, and to the Stretch of its Capacity. I thought that, till then, no Person had ever loved, as I loved. But the Love, of my
Arabella,
was a kind of Passion, that wanted a new Name whereby to express it. It was an Absence, a sort of Death to all other Objects. It was a Pleasure too paining, a distressful Attention, the Avarice of a Miser who watches over his Hoard, and joins to the Rapture, with which he beholds it, the terrifying Ideas of Robbery and Loss.
I had now, within the Space of five Weeks, received about one hundred and twenty Guineas, on the Sale of my Monitor. When, going abroad, one Evening, I was stopped, within a few Doors of my House, by a genteel looking Person who asked if my Name was
Clement,
it is, Sir, I answered. Then Sir, says he, I arrest you, in his Majesty's Name, for Sedition and a Libel against the Government. Then, beckoning to three or four Serjeants, that attended, he had me directly seized and conveyed toward
Newgate.
As I was not of a timorous Temper, nor conscious of the smallest Tincture of the Crimes with which I was charged, I should have made little more than a Jest of this Business; had I not trembled for the Apprehensions of those who I knew would tremble for me.
On the Way, this Officer informed me, that my Bookseller had betrayed me, and had confessed, to the Ministers, that I was the Author of a famous Pamphlet, entitled the WEEKLY MONITOR. Being delivered to the Keeper, I put a few Pieces into his Hand, and was conducted to a decent Apartment, considering the Place.
I immediately sent for
Humphrey Cypher,
Esq
Serjeant at Law, whom I had, once, occasionally feed in behalf of Mrs.
Graves;
and I sent, at the same Time, for a Set of the WEEKLY MONITOR. When Mr.
Cypher
came, I put five Pieces into his Hand, and, having told him my Case, I requested him to peruse the Papers in question, and to give me his Opinion thereon.
Having read them, with due Attention; Mr.
Clement,
says he, I perceive that you are a learned and ingenious young Gentleman; but I find that you are better acquainted with the Republics of
Greece,
than with the Nature and Constitution of our limited Monarchy. Hence, alone, hath proceeded some Lapses, and Misapplications, that your Adversaries would lay hold of. Yet, there is nothing, grossly, scurrilous or malicious, throughout; nor what may amount to the incurring of a Praemunire, by the most violent Constraint or Wresting of the Sense. If you are inclined, says he, to proceed in the Course of these Papers, I would advise you to put in Bail, and to stand the Action. But, as I am persuaded that the Court have commenced this Prosecution as a Matter, merely
in terrorem,
to deter you from a Work that gives them great Disgust, if you have any genteel Friend, who would solicit in your Favour, and promise a future Conduct, more amenable to Power, you would, undoubtedly be discharged, without further Cost or Trouble.
I returned my warm Acknowledgments to the Serjeant for his friendly Counsel, and told him I would consider of it, before I gave him further Trouble. When he was gone, I dispatched a Letter to Mrs.
Graves,
wherein I gave her an Account of my present Situation, in a Manner, as little alarming as possible. I requested her to provide Bail for my Appearance at Bar; but insisted that, till this was done, neither she nor
Arabella
should come to my Prison; and, that I had given express Orders that they should not be admitted.
Alas! had they complyed with my Directions, how happy might we have been, all together, at this Day. But, the Excess of their Goodness was the Cause of our common Ruin. Their Affection would not be satisfied with simple Bail; and they resolved never to rest, till they had procured my full Discharge.
They went about to all their Customers of any Distinction. They solicited, petitioned, and bribed without Measure. They borrowed Money to the utmost Extent of their Credit; and pawned, or sold all their Effects under prime Cost. They gave a Purse to one, to bring them acquainted with another, on whom they bestowed a larger Sum, to introduce them to a third. Having, at length, made their Way to Lord
Stivers,
an Agent of the Minister, he thought he saw an Advantage in granting their Request, and my Discharge was made out, without further Delay.
On the fifth Evening from my Imprisonment, the Door of my Chamber opened, and, in came my dear Aunt with my dearer
Arabella.
They flew upon me; they clasped me, on each Side, in their Arms; and my Wife, instantly, swooned away upon my Bosom. She soon revived, however, at the known Voice of Love, and, as every Door for my Enlargement had been previously opened, we went down, stepped into the Coach, and drove home, directly.
Here, I saw the first Subject and Cause of Alarm. The Shop was shut up. I was shocked and felt a sudden Chilness come upon me; but did not venture to inquire, except by my Eyes.
The Kettle being down, and all seated to Tea, I introduced the Affair, with an affected Unconcern; and, by Question after Question, artfully extracted, from my Companions, the whole History and Adventures of the five preceding Days; whereby, I found that they had expended in my Behalf beyond the last Penny of their own Substance; and that nothing remained, save one hundred and fifty Pounds, to which the several Deposits amounted, which I had made with Mrs.
Graves.
I could now no longer contain myself. Cruel Women, inhuman Friends! I cried. The Bitterness of Enmity, the Rancour of Malice could never have brought an Evil, like this, upon me. Accursed Wretch that I am, ordained to be the Instrument of Perdition to those, whom I would feed with my Blood and foster with my Vitals. Would to Heaven I had not been born! or, would I had been cut off by some quick and horrid judgement ere this had happened!
Here Mrs.
Graves
drew her Chair close to mine, and catching me about the Neck, and dropping upon me a few Tears, that she struggled to suppress; don't grieve, my Child, she cried, don't afflict yourself for nothing. All is as it should be. There is no Harm done. Your
Arabella
and I can always earn genteel and independent Bread, without Shop or other Means than the Work of our Hands. We can never want, my
Hammy.
We have done nothing for you. Neither has any Thing happened wherewith you ought to reproach yourself. What we did was for ourselves, for the Relief of the Anguish of our own Hearts; to bring you home to us, again, as soon as possible, my Son, since we found that we could live no longer without you.
Within a few Days, I perceived that my dear Aunt began to decline in her Health, perhaps, occasioned by her late Fatigue and Anxiety of Spirits. I brought an able Physician to her, but, he could form no judgement of the Nature of her Disorder, till, some Time aster, when her Complexion began to change, and the Doctor declared her to be in the Jaundice. He began to apply the customary Medicines, and, no Care nor Expense was spared for her Recovery.
Arabella
and I sat up with her, alternately, ev'ry Night; and, all the Day, we read to her some Book of Amusement, in order to dissipate the Melancholy of her Disease. But, alas, all our Cares and Remedies; our Attention and Solicitude, our Prayers and our Tears, proved, equally unsuccessful, and, at the End of five Months, she expired within our Arms.
Arabella
then quitted her Hold, and, crossing her Arms upon her Bosom, and looking, eagerly, on the Face, once so lovely, and always boloved; you are then at Peace, said she, my Mother. O Death, hadst thou not enough of Terrors, in thy Aspect, without adding to thy Agonies those of tearing from us that which we prized above Life. O my Friend! my only Parent! my dearest dearest Mother! --She could no more, but, immediately, fainted away upon the Body.
I took her up in my Arms, and, carrying her into the next Room, I laid her on the Bed; I ordered
Jenny
and the two Nursekeepers to take Care of her Recovery, and charged them not to permit her to see her Aunt, any more.
I, then, returned to the Chamber, wherein, the precious Ruins of the Half of my World was laid. I locked the Door within side. I approached the Body, and, hung over it, and gazed upon it, with inexpressible Emotion. I repeatedly clapped my Hands together. I stooped down, and kissed, and rekissed her cold Lips, in an Agony of Affection. I gave a free Scope to my Tears, Sobs, and Lamentations. Ah, I cried, my Parent; my Patroness; ah, Mother to the Son of your unhappy Election! Have I lost you, my only Prop? Are you, for ever, departed from me, my Support and Consolation? I was abandoned by the World, by Friends, Father, and Relations; but you became the World and all Relations to me.
I was a Stranger, and you took me in; I was sick, and in Prison, and you ministered unto me.
But, you are gone, you are gone from me, afar off. And I, die a thousand Deaths in the Anguish of surviving you. Here you lie, my Mother, the Victim of your Goodness to your unlucky Guest. Wretch that I am! doomed to bring no Portion, save that of Calamity, to those who regard me. Woe of Woes! Where, now, shall I ease my Soul of its insupportable Burden? Of the Debt, with which it labours, to this kind Creature? She will no more return, to take aught at my Hands; and I must suffer the Oppression, through Life, and through Eternity.
Having thus vented the Excesses of my Passion, my Spirits subsided into a kind of gloomy Calm, I returned to my Wife. --But, I see, Sir, you are too much affected. I will not dwell on this melancholy Scene any longer.
When I had discharged Doctor's Fees, Apothecaries Bills, and Funeral Expenses; I found that our Fortune did not amount to fifty Pounds. My Wife was, now, far advanced in her Pregnancy; her Labour was hastened by her Grief and late Fatigues; and she was delivered of that Boy whom your Charity, a second Time, brought into this World.
As I was, now, all Things, to my
Arobella;
the only Consolation she had upon Earth, I never left her during her Illness. By the Time she was up and about; what with the Charges of Child bearing, and a Quarter's Rent,
&c.
our Fund was, again, sunk within the Sum of ten Pounds; and I was going, one Evening, to look out for some Employment when we heared a Rapping of Distinction at the Door.
Jenny
came, in a hurry, and brought us word that Lord
Stivers
was in the Parlour, and desired to speak with me. I went down, greatly surprised, and something alarmed at his Visit. Mr.
Clement,
says he, with a familiar Air, I have long wished to see you, but I did not think it seasonable to disturb you, during the Misfortune of your Family and the Illness of your Wife. Your WEEKLY MONITORS have Genius and Spirit, but they have done some Mischief which we wish to have remedied. As how, pray, my Lord? Why, Mr.
Clement,
I never knew a Writing, in favour of Liberty, or against any Measures of Government, which the Populace did not wrest, in favour of Licentiousness, and to the casting aside of all Manner of Rule. Now, Mr.
Clement,
we want you to undertake our Cause, which is, by much, the more reasonable and orderly Side of the Argument; in short, we want you to refute your own Papers.
O, my Lord, I answered, I should think it an Honour to serve your Lordship or the Ministry, on any other Occasion. But, in a Matter that must bring public Infamy upon me; indeed, my Lord, you must excuse me. I should be pointed at, as an Apostate and Prostitute, by all Men, and bring my Person and Writings into such Disgrace as would, for ever, disable me from serving either myself, or your Lordship.
Well Sir, replied my Lord, I will not, then, insist on a formal Refutation of your own Writings. I only ask, if you are willing to engage in our Quarrel, as far as is consistent with Honour and Truth? I am, my Lord, I rejoined, as far as is consistent with my own Credit and the Good of my Country.
The Good of your Country, Mr.
Clement,
says my Lord, I hope you do not think that Government is contrary to the Good of your Country. Pray, in what do you make this LIBERTY consist, of which you are become so eminent a Patron?
There are two Sorts of LIBERTY, my Lord, I answered. The first constitutes the Duty and Happiness of a Man, independent of Community. The second constitutes the Privilege and Happiness of a Man, merely, as he is a Member of any State or Commonwealth.
Independent of Community, a Man is so far free and no further, than he acts up to the Dictates of Reason and Duty, in despight of inward Appetite and outward Influence.
As a Member of Community, a Man is, so far, free, and no further than as every other Member, of that Community, is legally restrained from injuring his Person, or encroaching on his Property.
Inimitably well definded, cried his Lordship; I have read Volumes, in Folio, upon the Subject; but, never knew what LIBERTY was before. Well, Mr.
Clement,
as this LIBERTY of yours, is in all Respects, so opposite to the Licentiousness I was talking of; it cannot but make, mainly, in Favour of good Government. I therefore request you to write a Treatise to the Purpose of your Definition; and to take us with you, as far as you can. We shall not be ungrateful, we are good Paymasters, Sir. Why do you hesitate? Did you not tell me you were disposed to serve us?
My Lord, I replied, I fear I should fall greatly short of your Expectations. I am not studied in the Constitution of modern States; and, how should I be able to justify any Government, with respect to Measures that, perhaps, are a Secret to all, except the Ministers? I must further observe, to your Lordship, that my former Field would be greatly contracted, on this Occasion. It is very easy and obvious to find Fault and to call in Question; but, to vindicate Truth itself against popular Prejudice,
hoc Opus hic Labor est.
Mr.
Clement,
says my Lord, I am proud that we have got a Gentleman of so much Honesty and Ingenuity to befriend us. It shall be my Care to provide you with Materials, and, I am confident that so great a Master of his Instrument, as you are, will make excellent Music on a few fundamental Notes. Here are twenty Guineas Earnest, and ten Guineas shall be payed you, weekly, till we can fix you in some Station of due Honour and Advantage. I will take a Glass, or a Dish of Tea with you, in a few Days, and wish you a good Evening.
On the third Morning after this Interview, my Lord returned with a large Bundle of
Anti-Patria
Pamphlets, in his Chariot, and some manuscript Notes and Hints for my Instruction. He breakfasted with us, and was easy, polite, and cheerful.
I now entered on my new Province, but, not with usual Ardour. As I had, formerly, lashed the Insolence, Encroachments, and Rapaciousness of Power, less ambitious of Conquest, over Aliens and Enemies, than over the very People it was ordained to protect: I now, on the other Hand, rebuked, with like Acrimony, the riotous, factious, and seditious Propensities, of a turbulent, licentious, and unsatisfied People; ever repugnant to Government, and reluctant to the Rein of the gentlest Ruler. I proved, from many Authorities, and Instances, derived from
Greece
and
Rome,
that Power is never so dangerous to a Populace as when it is taken into their own Hands. That the Governors and governed, by the Violence of Collision, are apt to fly to Extremes, on either Side. That Anarchy is the most direct, of all Roads, to Tyranny. And that a People, who have no Will to be governed, reduce themselves to the Necessity, of being crush'd, insulted, and governed, whether they will or no.
Now, Sir, though I, thus alternately, sided with the People against Power, and with Power against the People; yet I struck at nothing but Faults, on either Hand; and equally asserted, on both Sides of the Question, the Cause of my Country, of Liberty, and Truth.
I took five Times the Pains with these latter Papers that I had with the Former, and yet, I confess I had not equal Pleasure in the Delivery. I am, also, persuaded, that these had more than double the Merit of the other; and, in Point of Sentiment, Moral, and general Instruction, were of twenty Times the Value to Mankind: But, how can that instruct which is not attended to? it was intimated to the People that these had been written at the Instance of their Governors; and they would not have listened to an Oracle, if uttered from that Quarter.
Six Months had now elapsed in these Lucubrations. I had delivered, to my Wife two hundred and sixty Guineas, the weekly Price of my Labours. We had lived with great Frugality.
Arabella
had, again, taken in as much Work as her Nursing and Attention to the Child would admit. And we had some Pieces left of our former Remnant; when Lord
Stivers
called in upon me, with Pleasure and good News, as it were, Prologue in his Aspect.
Mr.
Clement,
says he, I want to speak to you, apart. I had, Yesterday, some Talk with the Minister about you, and he has promised me four hundred a Year Pension for you, till something better can be done; and this is to be wholly clear and over your weekly Wages of ten Guineas, while we keep you so hard at Work. But, tell me,
Clement,
says he, laying his Hand with an affectionate Familiarity upon my Shoulder, are you of a jealous Temper? The furthest from it, my Lord, of any Man breathing. O, I'm glad of that, but, if you were, I have nothing exceptionable to propose. To be short; Half a Dozen of Noblemen, all my Friends, and People of strict Probity and Virtue, have engaged to spend a Share of To-morrow, in a Party of Pleasure upon the
Thames;
and, we have, each of us, laid a Bet of a hundred Guineas, that, from the Number of his Relations, his Friends, or Acquaintance, he will bring the prettiest Woman to this Field of Contention. I had fixed on Lady
Fanny Standish,
a lovely Creature, and a Relation of my own, but she, unfortunately, happened to be pre-engaged to one of my Rivals. I am, therefore quite at a Loss, and must, infallibly, lose my Wager, if you do not favour me with the Company of Mrs.
Clement.
With her I can make no Question of Conquest; and I give you my Honour to pour into her Lap, the whole five hundred Guineas, the just Prize of her Beauty.
Why, my Lord, I answered, this is, indeed, a very pleasant Project, and has nothing in it exceptionable, that I can perceive, if no one was to know any Thing of the Matter. But, what will the World say to see your Lordship so paired? Shaw, damn the World,
Clement,
I am your World, Man. Your Lordship has a very good Right to damn an inferior World, I rejoined; but the World has an equal Right, and would, certainly, make use of it, in the Damnation of my Wife. What, said he, warmly, you will not, then, confide her to my Friendship and Honour? I will not, my Lord, confide her Honour, unnecessarily, to any Man from under that Guardianship and Protection which I vowed to her, in Marriage. It is very well, Mr.
Clement,
you may hear from me To-morrow. And away he went.
He was as good as his Word. The very next Morning, I was arrested at his Suit for two hundred and fourscore Guineas, the Amount of all that I had received from him; and I was hurried to the
Fleet Prison,
without being permitted to speak to any one.
As my Lord knew that, on Issue, I must cast him in his Action, and, further, come upon him for special Damage and false Duress; it instantly occurred that this was, merely, a Stratagem for the Seduction of my
Arabella;
and her defenceless State gave me inexpressible Torture. I, immediately wrote her an Account of my Situation and Apprehensions which, unhappily for all Parties, were too well founded. But, Sir, I will give you a Detail of these extraordinary Events, in the Order of Time, in which they happened, as I, afterwards, learned them, from the Mouth of my Wife, and from the Testimony of others, on Trial in public Court.
Before my Wife could have the least Intelligence of my Confinement, my Lord paid her a Visit, and, entring with his accustomed Freedom and good Humour, Mrs.
Clement,
says he, I am come to prevent your being alarmed, when you should hear that I sent your Husband to the
Fleet Prison
this Morning. But, to convince you that I intend him no manner of Harm; I have, here, brought you the Money for which he was arrested; and it is at your own Choice to release him, within this Hour, or on the Feast of Saint
Simpleton,
if you are not in a Hurry. So saying, he put a large Purse into her Hand. And, pray my Lord, then demanded
Arabella,
on what Account was it that you had him arrested? To punish him, answered my Lord, for being the most jealous-pated Coxcomb in Europe. Jealous, my Lord! pray of whom can he be jealous? Of you and I, Madam. Of us, my Lord? Sure we never gave him Cause. No, that I'll be sworn, rejoined my Lord; but more is the Pity; the Jealousy came first, and the Cause ought, now, in all Conscience, to follow.
Before the last Words had escaped his Mouth, he sprung forward, and, catching her in his Arms, he pressed and kissed her with the rudest Ardour. But, quickly disengaging herself, and, pushing him, violently, from her. I see you're a Villain, she cried, and desire that you'll instantly quit my House; and, so saying, she threw the Purse out at the Door. My Lord, however, stood his Ground, and, looking at her with astonishing Ease and Unconcern; Mrs.
Clement,
says he, the Destiny of your Husband and yourself is in my Hands; and I must tell you it does not become you to treat your best Friend in so injurious a Manner. I have, here, brought you a Settlement of five hundred a Year, for Life. It is perfected to you without Condition, and, how far you will be grateful, lies, wholly, at your own Election. May Heaven forsake me, she cried, when I accept the smallest Advantage from you or your Fortune. Well, well,
Arabella,
replied my Lord, I must and will have you, on your Terms, or my own; but, if you had, really a mind to contest this Business with me, what a little Fool you were, so simply, to cast away the Sinews of War? I leave you, Child, for the present, to wiser Reflections; then insolently smiling in her Face, he retired.
As soon as he was gone, my Wife hurried to the Miss
Hodginses,
and prevailed upon one of them to keep her Company till she should be able to procure my Enlargement. She, then, went to a Person, who dealt in Houshold Furniture, and requested him to come, the next Morning, and make a Purchase of some Goods that she had to dispose of. And, lastly, she writ me a Letter with an Account of all these Matters, and a Promise to be with me the Day following.
I should have apprised you before this, that our faithful and affectionate
Jenny
had forsaken us. A small Legacy had been left her, whereupon she quitted Service and went to live with her Parents; and we were obliged to hire a strange Maid in her Room.
The next Day,
Arabella
sold as much of her Furniture, to the forementioned Dealer and some Neighbours, as amounted to upward of forty Guineas. She had put these, with her former Deposit of two hundred and sixty, into her Pocket; it was now Afternoon, and she was joyfully preparing to come and give me Freedom; when our new Maid entered and told Miss
Hodgins
that a Lady waited for her, at Home, on earnest Business, but promised not to detain her above five Minutes. Alas! Miss
Hodgins
was scarce gone, when Lord
Stivers
entered, and my Wife, giving a violent Shriek, dropped backward in a Chair.
Lord
Stivers,
thereupon, drew another Chair, and, with an impudent Appearance of Tenderness, seated himself beside her. My dear
Arabella,
said he, don't be alarmed. By,  I am not come to do you the smallest Injury. I tell you, however, that you're wholly in my Power. Your Street Door is bolted. I have two able Footmen below in your Kitchen; and the Maid, who contrived to get your Friend out of the Way, is much more my Servant than yours, I assure you. I have loved you long, my
Arabella,
and the frequent Visits, I paaid, are to be placed to your Credit, and not to that of the stupid Polities, with which I amused your Husband, and now, my Angel, if you will make any Concession, but the slightest Return to the Excess of my Passion and Fondness for you; I, here, vow to you perpetual Faith and Constancy for Life, and, both my Fortune and Person shall be, wholly, devoted to you. But, don't attempt to impose; don't hope to deceive me.
No, no, my Lord, she cried, I will not deceive you, by pretending to sacrifice the least Article of Duty to your Person or Fortune. I see that I'm in Danger; on the Brink of Perdition. I see that Hell is strong, and subtle at Devices. Heav'n save me, any how! strike, stike me dead, this Instant! You Thunders and Earthquakes, that once were my Terrors, be now my Deliverers!
Why, my
Arabella,
says Lord
Stivers,
this is all very sine. It is the sweetest Rant I ever heard. And you are the sweetest Girl, upon my Soul, that ever I saw. I perceive that you are really alarmed, my Love; but, what is it that frights you, you shall never receive any Treatment from me, save Proofs of the Fondness and Violence of my Affection. Recall your Spirits, Child; and prepare yourself, with Patience, for what must be. For I swear to you,
Arabella,
by  
&c. &c.
that no Power, in the Universe, shall snatch you, this Hour, from the Ardour of my Caresses.
The wretched Object of the Lust of this barbarous Man, then, dropped upon her Knees in a frantic Agony. O GOD! she cried out, if you are in Heaven, if you hear and see these Things. If Virtue and Purity are not an Offence unto you. Send, send, and deliver me by some sudden Salvation! O, my Lord, once our generous Patron and Protector, the Friend and Support of our declining House! Would you now tumble into deep and irreparable Ruins, the Work of your own Hands? Alas, you know not what you do; you cannot guess at the Horrors you are about to perpetrate. If ever you had a touch of Pity. If ever  but, what shall I say. If you do not, like Devils, delight in the Miseries of Wretches, damned for Eternity; shield, shield me, my dear Lord; be you, yourself, my Saviour, from this my Hour of Terrors, from this Hell that is come upon me. I have, already, suffered the Pangs of Death, in the bare Apprehension. I will never live to bear in me, and about me, a detestable Being. Hope it not; dream not of it. By Heav'n, I will not a Moment, survive my Pollution. O Mercy! Mercy! Mercy! And, so saying, her Voice was stopped, by an Agony of Sobs and Tears.
Charming Girl! enchanting Creature! exclaimed the deliberate Villain, every Action, every Word, intended to dissuade, are fresh Fuel and Incitement to my Passion for you, my
Arabella.
But, I see that you will not consent to my Happiness; and that I must give you an Apology, for your Acceptance of any Favour or Fortune at my Hands.
So saying he arose. And up she sprung at the Instant, and running to the furthest Corner of the Room, recollected all her Spirits and Force for her Defence. She struggled, and shrieked, and called out upon Heaven, and Earth, to save her. But, no Help appearing nigh, she, suddenly, recollected a Pair of long and sharp pointed Scissars that she had, in her Pocket, and, in the Moment that Lord
Stivers
threw her, prone upon the Floor, she drew them forth, and, aiming at him, with all her Strength, she almost buried the Weapon in his left Side; whereat he gave a loud Curse, and over he tumbled gasping, and groveling, beside her.
Up she got, with all Haste, and, runing to the Cradle where her Infant lay crying, she caught him in her Arms; and, opening the chamber Door, softly, and shutting it after her, she stepped down Stairs, as upon Feathers, and, stealing to the Street Door, she opened it suddenly, rushed into the Street, and hurried on till she came to a Stand of Coaches; where she hired the first she met, threw herself hastily into it, and desired the Man to drive, with Speed to the Fleet Prison.
On her Arrival, she discharged the Action and Fees of Arrest, with all possible Dispatch, and, then, hurried up to my Apartment. On the first Glimpse, I sprung to her, and caught her in my Arms with unspeakable Transport; but, finding the Child with her, and observing that her Breath was quick and uneven, I withdrew a Step or two, and looked eagerly at her; and, perceiving that she was pale, and had a kind of Wildness in her Eyes and Motions; what is the Matter, my Love, I cried, what has happened to you? I have not been well, she answered, with an affected unconcern before the Keeper. But, pray come down, my Dear, you are much wanted, and the Coach is in Waiting.
Nothing further passed, between us, till we got into the Coach, and that my Wife desired the Man to drive to some Neighbouring Street, and to stop at the first Door where he saw a Bill for Lodgings. For Lodgings; again I demanded, for whom does my
Arabella
desire to take Lodgings? For you and I Mr.
Clement,
for you and I, she cried, wringing her Hands together; Lord
Stivers
lies, weltring in his Blood at our House, deprived of Life within this Half Hour, by my unhappy Hand.
I was, suddenly, struck dumb, with Surprise and Horror. All the Occasions and Consequences, of this direful Event, whirled through my Imagination in a fearful Succession. What must, now, become of my Soul's sole Enjoyment? what Indignities must have been offered! what Violation might she not, or, rather, must she not have suffered, before she could be brought to perpetrate so terrible a Deed, I grew, instantly sick, and, putting my Head through the Window, desired the Coachman to stop at the first Tavern. I ordered the Drawer to nasten, with a Pint of Spanish White Wine, to the Door, and I pressed and compelled my Wife to swallow a Part. Our Spirits being, in some Degree, settled, thereby; we drove to a private Street, on the right Hand of
Cheapside,
where I took a back Room and Closet, up two Pair of Stairs, at one Mrs.
Jennett
's, an old Maid and a Mantua-maker. I, immediately, ordered a Fire to be kindled, and the Tea-Things to be laid, and, giving the Servant a Crown, desired her to bring the Value in proper Ingredients.
The Evening was, now, shut in; and, while the Maid was abroad, not a Syllable passed between my Wife and me. I dreaded to enquire of what I, still, more dreaded to understand; and
Arabella
seemed to labour under some mighty Oppression; when, retiring to the Closet, where our Bed stood, she covered her Child up warm, and, kneeling down by his Side, broke forth into a violent Torrent of Tears, intermingled with Heavings and Half strangled Sobs.
I sat still, without seeming to observe her Emotion. I was sensible that Nature wanted this kindly Relief. The Teas and Sugars were brought; the Kettle put on the Fire; and the Maid, again, retired; when I, gently, called to my
Arabella
to come forth, with a Voice, of the truest Love, and softest Endearment, that ever yet breathed from a human Bosom.
Her Eyes were already wiped, her Countenance composed, and her Motions and Demeanour much more settled, than before. She sat down with a rising Sigh, which she checked with a Half Smile. My
Arabella,
said I, my only Joy! my unmeasured Blessing! What is it that, thus, distracts my dearer Part of Existence? Your Mind, your Spirit, my Angel, is still pure and unpolluted; and Bodies are, merely as Bodies, incapable of Defilement, being doomed, from our Birth, to Dissolution and Corruption.
Ah, my
Hammy,
she exclaimed, you are quite beside the Mark, I sigh not, I weep not, I grieve not for myself. I fear not, nor regard the Consequences, however fatal, of what has happened. Suppose a sudden and shameful Death, I thank my God for it, Death will offer me up a Victim still pure and unpolluted. But, O, the wretched
Stivers,
what is now become of him? sent, so sudden and unprovided, to his eternal Audit. Unhappy that I am! perhaps, an Instrument of Perdition to an immortal Being. Ah, rather, that I had not been born! would I had perish'd in his Stead! A Death, in the Cause of Virtue, had been my Advocate for Mercy.
How is this? my
Arabella,
I cried. Is Condemnation, then, to be brought upon the Good, because they oppose themselves to Evil? Would you have censured any one living, except yourself, for having given you this Deliverance, by the Death of the Ravisher? No, surely. In the daily and nightly Robberies, Massacres, and Assassinations, that the violent machinate against the Peaceful; is it the Fault of those, who stand in the Defence of Righteousness, that Villains often perish in the Act of Transgression? Tell me, my sweet Mourner; in the Sacking of a City, when the lustful and bloody Soldiery are loosed to their whole Delight in Burnings, Rapes, Rapines, Slaughters, Howlings, and Violations; is it the Perpetrators of all these Horrors that you compassionate, when they happen to be crushed in the Ruins they have wrought? Meritorious, my
Arabella,
most meritorious were that Hand, who should cut a whole Host of such Infernals from the Earth; remaining Innocence and Virtue would be his Debtors for ever. Commiseration to the Flagitious is Cruelty to the Just; and he who spares them becomes the Accomplice of all their future Crimes.
During Tea, my Wife gave me an ample Narrative of all that happened, at our House, while I was in Confinement. As she spoke, I was, first, Speechless, with fearful and panting Expectation, I was, then, kindled into Fury and a vehement Thirst of Vengeance. And, lastly, I was elevated into an aweful Rapture. I looked at my Wife, with Eyes, swimming with Love and Veneration. I rose from my Seat. I threw myself on my Knees before her. Adorable Creature, I cried, divine
Arabella!
supreme Excellence of Women! thus let me worship, through the pure
of all Mediums, that GODHEAD who inspires, and delights in such Perfections!
Our Fortune was, now, reduced to very little more than fifteen Guineas. We had no Clothes but what we wore; and we did not dare to go or send, to our House, for others; neither to make ourselves known to any Acquaintance. We went by the Name of
Stapleton;
and on the following Night, I ventured abroad, and bought, for myself a few second-hand Shirts, with a common Gown and some Changes of Linen for my Wife.
On the fifth Day, at Breakfast, while
Arabella
was casting her Eye over a Newspaper, that she had borrowed from Mrs.
Jennett,
she turned suddenly pale. What, she cried, before I could question her, accused for Robbery, as well as Murder? that is hard, indeed. But I trust that my Lot shall not exceed my Resignation. And, so saying, she handed me over the Paper, with a Smile in which Heaven appeared to open.
The Advertisement ran thus   
WHEREAS
Arabella Clement,
alias
Graves,
did, on the 15th Day of
September
Instant, most barbarously stab and murder the Rt. Hon.
James ****
late Lord
Stivers,
at a House of ill Report, where she formerly had kept a Milliner's Shop, in
Fleet-Street:
And, whereas she did, further, rob the said Rt. Hon.
&c.
of a large Purse of Money, his Gold Repeater, Snuff-Box, Diamond-Ring,
&c.
and did, lastly, flee for the same, as may be proved, and is evident, from the Examination and Testimony of three concurring Witnesses. Now his Majesty, in his gracious Abhorrence of such Crimes, doth, hereby, promise a Reward, of three hundred Guineas, to any Person who shall stop, discover, or arrest the said
Arabella,
so as that she may be brought to condign and adequate Punishment, if any such may be found for such unequall'd Offences.
O, said my Wife, I perceive that my Enemies will swear home, indeed. Their Plunder of Lord
Stivers
can, no Way, be assured, save by my Condemnation. But, be it as it may, that Providence, who overules the Wickedness of this World, may yet give Submission a Clue to Escape its Perplexities. And, my Innocence, I trust, will be an Equivalent to all that the World can inflict, and much more than an Equivalent to all that it can bestow.
I now had every Thing to fear for my
Arabella,
as well from the interested Villany of the Witnesses, as from the Power of the Ministry, and the Resentment of the Relations of so great a Man; and I looked upon her Death to be as certain as her Caption. Had I been the First, in Remainder, to the greatest Estate in
England,
I would have exchanged my whole Interest, for as much ready Cash as would have served to convey us to some Region of Safety. But this was not practicable, with the very small Remainder of the Wreck of our Fortune; and, we had taken our Lodging certain at fifty Shillings
per
Quarter.
We appeared, as little as possible, even to the Lodgers of the House; and I intimated, to my Landlady, that it was the Fate of many a Gentleman to be obliged to abscond, till his Affairs could be compounded, with hard hearted Creditors.
During the Space of nine Months, our principal Diet was weak Tea and Bread, and, if we ventured, at odd Times, on a small Joint of Meat, it served us cold, hashed and minced, from one Week to the other.
As my Wife did not dare to take in Work, nor I to stir abroad to look for Employment, our chief Entertainment was the reading some old Folio Books, of History and Divinity, which I borrowed from Mrs.
Jennett,
and which had belonged to her Father.
How small must be the Cravings of simple Nature, when, a Family, like ours, accustomed to Affluence, could subsist, in
London,
without murmuring, for upward of nine Months, on less than eight Guineas. But, our Fund was, now, exhausted to a few Shillings; and my Sword, Watch, and Buckles were, also, gone, in Discharge of our three Quarters Rent to the Landlady. Ruin stared us in the Face. I beheld, as it were, a Gulf, unfathomable and impassable, opening beneath our Feet, and Heaven and Earth joining to push us down the Precipice.
We, yet, lived, a Month longer, on coarse Bread and cold Water, with a little Milk which we got, now and then, for the Child; but, I concealed, from my Wife, that we had not a single Six-pence now left upon Earth.
I looked up to Heaven, but without Love or Confidence. Dreadful Power, I cried, who thus breakest to Powder the poor Vessels of thy Creation! Thou art said to be a bounteous and benevolent Caterer, to the Spawn of the Ocean, and to the Worms of the Earth. Thou clothest the Birds of the Air, and the Beasts of the Forest; they hunger, and find a Banquet at Hand. Thou sheddest the Dew of thy Comforts, even on the Unrighteous, thou openest thy Hand, and all Things, living are said to be filled with Plenteousness. Are we, alone, excepted from the Immensity of thy Works? shall the Piety of my Wife, shall the Innocence of my Infant, thus famish, unregarded and unpitied, before thee?
Ah! it is I who am the accursed Thing. Who bring Plagues upon all with whom I am connected. Even the Labours of my Life, the Issues of my honest Industry, have been changed, by thy Ordinances into nothing but Damage. To the Imprisonment of my Person; to the Ruin of those who had the Misfortune to befriend me; and to the Death, Danger, and Desolation of all whom I held dear. I strive, in vain, with thy Omnipotence, it is too mighty for me, and crushes me below the Centre. Pour out then the Vessels of thy Wrath upon my Head, but, on my Head alone, O just Creator! and take these Little-Ones to thy Mercy, for they cannot have participated of the Guilt thou art pleased to impute to me.
The Night was, now, advanced, but that, which fell upon my Soul, was a Night which would admit no Ray of Comfort, nor looked ever to behold another Morning. I wished for Dissolution to myself, to the Universe. I wished to see the two Proprietors, of my Soul's late Affections, now lying pale and breathless before my Eyes. I would not have endured my Hell another Moment. I would have given myself instant Death; but I dreaded to leave my desolate Widow, and helpless Orphan, without a Friend, as I then conceived, either in Heaven or Earth.
My Wife had lain down, with her Infant, on the Bed. A sudden Reflection started. My Death, thought I, may yet be useful to those, for whom alone I could wish to live. I rose, frantically determined. My Brain was on Fire. I took down an old Pistol, which hung in a Corner, I put it into my Breast; down Stairs I went, and issued to the Street.
I was bent on something desperate, but knew not what. I had not gone far, when I saw a large Tavern open beside me. I passed through the Entry, and, running up Stairs, boldly entered the Dining Room, where a numerous Company of Gentlemen sat round their Bottle. I clapped to the Door; and taking out the Pistol, Gentlemen, I cried, I starve, I die for Want; resolve, instantly, to relieve, or to perish along with me.
They all fixed their Eyes upon me; but, the meagre Frenzy, as I suppose, which they saw in my Countenance, held them silent. The Person, who was nearest, directly took out his Purse and presented it to me. I, again, returned it to him, and, putting up my Pistol; no no, Sir, I cried, I will not take your Gold, I am no Robber. But, give me some Silver, among ye, to keep, awhile, from the Grave, three Creatures who famish amidst a plentiful World.
They all, as by one Consent, put their Hands to their Pockets, and, instantly made a Heap of upward of three Pounds. I devoured it with my Eyes. I beheld it as a Mint of Money; and panting, and grappling at it, like a Vulture, I stuffed it into a side Pocket; and being too full of Acknowledgment to thank my Benefactors, by Word or Token; I burst forth into Tears, and, turning from them, I got, once more, into the Street, without any Interruption.
I made, directly, home, and, stepping softly up Stairs, I, first restored the Pistol to its old Station. I, then, went to the Closet, where my Wife lay, still, asleep. I gently awake her, by the Fondness of my Caresses. My
Arabella,
I cried, I have ventured out, for the first Time; and Heaven has sent us some small Relief by a Friend that I happened to meet. Here my Love, I said, putting a Crown into her Hand, call the Maid, and send out for some comfortable Sustenance; our Fast has been long, indeed.
Within a few Days, our Strength and our Spirits began to recruit, though we, still, continued to live much within the Bounds of Temperance. My Soul, again, settled into a kind of sullen Calm, and looked forth, though at a Distance, to some future Dawning.
One Day as my Landlady's Bible lay shut, before me, a sudden Thought occurred. I breathed up, to God, a short and silent Ejaculation, beseeching him to instruct me in what I ought to do, by the Passage, upon which my Thumb should happen to rest, on opening the Book. I, instantly, made the Venture, and found the following Words.
I will arise and go to my Father and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against thee, and before Heaven, and am no more worthy to be called thy Son.
Alas, I was far from imagining at that Time, that it was no other than my Father in Heaven, who called me, and who would, thereby, have directed and conducted me to himself.
I puzzled and racked my Memory, to discover in what I had given just Offence to my earthly Progenitor, but, resolved, in all Events, to observe the Admonition.
In the Dusk of the Evening, I tied my Handkerchief, Sailor-like, about my Neck, I pulled my Wig forward, and, slouching my Hat, I slid out of Doors; and, stooping Half double, I limped, with a counterfeited Gate, toward my Father's. I was, duely, appriz'd that, if I knocked at the Door, or directly enquired for him, I should not be admitted. I, therefore, walked to and again, now near, now aloof, for near an Hour, before his Door, in patient Expectation of his Appearance.
I had repeated this Exercise, for five successive Evenings, when the Door, at length, opened, and a Servant, in Livery, came up and accosted me. Is your Name
Clement,
Sir? Suppose it were, says I. Supposing so, replied he, I am ordered to tell you, that my Master is well informed of all your wicked Designs, and that, if ever you appear, again, in Sight of his Windows, he will send you to Newgate, without Bail or Mainprize, and prosecute you to the last of the Laws of the Land.
We parted, without another Word, and I crossed over the Way to a Chandler's Shop. The good Woman of the House also happened to sell some small Ale, in her back Apartments. I called for a Mugg, and requested her Company for a few Minutes. After some introductory Chat, I addressed her, in a Manner, that I judged most engaging for one in her Sphere. She, very freely, told me the History of my Father and his present Family, and further, that it was his Custom, on every
Monday
and
Friday,
to repair to the
Tradesman's Club,
at the Golden Anchor in
Temple-Lane,
about eight of the Clock, at Night, and not to return till about eleven.
I went Home, something satisfied with this Intelligence, as I now knew where to find my unnatural Parent, though his last barbarous and insulting Message had rendered me hopeless, and quite averse to any kind of Application to him.
We had now lived, three Months longer, on the last Booty, or Charity, I know not which to call it. We were, again, reduced to the last Shilling, and, what was still worse, our Landlady became importunate for her Quarter's Rent. My Wife had lately requested her, to look out for some Sempstry-Work, among the Neighbours. This she promised to do, but, purposely, declined, as she and her Family got the Benefit of her Labour, gratis.
I began, again, to return to my former evil Thoughts. I resolved to make War upon the whole Race of Man, rather than my Wife and Infant should perish in my Sight. But, I reflected that it was more equitable to begin with a Father, on whom Nature had given me a Right of Dependence; than to prey upon Strangers, on whom, Necessity, alone, could give me any Claim.
It was
Monday
Night. The Clock struck ten. I took down the old Pistol, and marched toward the Anchor. I patroled near the Place of Expectation, above an Hour. The Night was excessive dark, and no Lamps in that Part; at length I listened to the Sound of distant Steps, and, soon after heard a Voice cry Murder, Murder, Robbery! Watch, Watch!
I ran to the Cry, and perceived one Man on the Ground, and another stooping, in Act, to rifle his Pockets. I, instantly, drew my Pistol, and, striking at the Robber's Head with my full Force, I laid him senseless on the Pavement. I, then, gently raised the other, who was bleeding and stunned by the Stroke he had received. I supported him, Step by Step, toward a distant Lamp, where, at length, we arrived and found a Tavern open. I entered and ordered a Room, with Fire and Lights; and desired that a Surgeon should be, immediately, called. The Gentleman, whose Face was, nearly, covered with Blood and Dirt, began now to recover his Strength and Senses. I got him to swallow a small Dram of Spirits; and he stepped, with me, up Stairs, scarcely leaning on my Shoulder.
While we sat at the Fire, and a Napkin and warm Water were getting ready; the Stranger grew passionate in his Acknowledgments for the Life, which he said he owed me, and which Service he promised to recompense, to the Stretch of his Power and Fortunes. But, when he had washed and wiped away the Blood and Dirt from his Face; Heaven! what was my Emotion, at the Sight of an Aspect, once, so loved, and so revered! all my Injuries and Resentments vanished, instantly, from my Memory. I fell at his Knees, with a great Cry. Is it you, then, my Father! my once dear, my ever dear and lamented Father! is it the Face of a Father that I, at last, behold? I burst into Tears. I wept aloud. I, interruptedly demanded, will you not know me? will you not own me? will not Nature speak in you? will you not acknowledge your Son, your once beloved
Hammel,
so long the Comfort of your Age, and the Pride of your Expectations?
While I spoke, my Father looked wild and eager upon me. He, at length, recollected me through all my Leanness and poor Apparel; and, hesitatingly, replied; I, I, I believe indeed you are my Child
Hammel;
and, strait, fainted away.

YOU are welcome, my Friend. But pray, to what may I be indebted for the Favour of this Visit?
In compliment to your Work, rather than to its Author, I confess that Curiosity impelled me hither, in spite of some other urgent Occasions. Indeed, I heartily cursed the Intruders who disturbed us in so interesting a Point of the Story; and I should not have slept since, had I not in some Measure satisfied my Impatience by making out the Remainder in my own Mind.
And pray, how have you contrived the Business?
In a way, as I thought, that could not be avoided. The natural Affections of a Parent joined to the recent Obligations, by which old
Clement
was bound to his Son, must necessarily effect a perfect Reconciliation, and all End, as one would wish, in future Prosperity. In Truth, I thought it full Time to put a Period to the Reader's Distress, by putting an End to those of the unfortunate
Clement.
Happily guessed, my Friend. Your Imagination has supplied my Place to great Advantage. To proceed, would answer no Manner of Purpose.
But then it struck me, this Morning, that the deplorable Condition, in which these People were found, could not be consistent with my Plan. This has brought me in a Hurry. I think that my Plan is still the right one. I fear, you have indulged yourself in the Marvellous, at the Expense of Nature. It is the Fault of all Novellists. I am in great Pain for you. I can't conceive how you bring yourself off in this Plunge.
Here  Had you called sooner, you would the sooner have had your Spleen or your Curiosity gratified.
CHAP. VIII.
DURING his Fit, the Surgeon, came with his Instruments and Dressings; and, having in vain attempted to restore him, by sprinkling Water in his Face, and by the Application of Hartshorn to his Nose and Temples; he took some Blood from him, whereon, he opened his Eyes, and began to breathe with Freedom. He then examined his Wound, which was a little above his Forehead, and declared it so slight, as scarce to be an Excuse for keeping his Chamber. The Surgeon, having dressed it, received his Fee and retired. And my Father, ringing for the Drawer, ordered up a Flask of Burgundy, with a cold Fowl, Oyl and Vinegar.
When the Table was laid, and the Waiter desired to withdraw. My Father, again, looking earnestly and compassively upon me, I believe, says he, my Child may be hungry; and, strait, his Countenance falling, and the Muscles of his Lips beginning to work, he broke into Tears. Barbarous Wretch! he exclaimed, unnatural Ostrich! who could, thus, leave the First-begotten of thy Bowels to the Nakedness of the Sands, and to the Blasting of the Elements.
No, no, my Father, I cried; again throwing myself on my Knees before him; kill me not with your Tears, crush me not with this, your unmerited Concern! all is well, all is happy, and blessed, as I can bear it to be. This Moment overpays my Years of Anguish, it is like Heaven after passing the Vale of Death and mortal Sufferings.
After Supper, of which my Father scarce tasted, he got up, and, as I rose at the same Time, he stepped to me, and, catching me passionately in his Arms; and putting his Neck across mine, my Child, he cried, my beloved Child, my Life's blessed Preserver! come, once more, to my Bosom, enter thy forsaken Mansion! too long has it been desert and desolate, without thee! But, here, I vow to the Almighty, that no Step-Dames, nor viperous Instruments, shall ever hereafter insinuate between us; accursed be they, who shall attempt to divide us; and, may they come to an evil End, who shall desire to deprive me of thee, the Light of mine Eyes, till I am cold, and insensible to ev'ry other Joy.
While we sat over our Bottle, my Father called for Ink and Paper, and, first presenting me with a Purse of fifty Guineas, he again gave me a Bill, at Sight, on his Banker, for five hundred Pounds. I started up, but, stopping me, he cried, hold, hold, my
Hammy,
I see myself overpaaid in the Acknowledgments of that dear, though meagre Countenance; and, then, as I kneel'd before him, with both Hands held over me and Eyes raised to Heaven, he blessed me in an Ejaculation of the tenderest Ardour.
The Reckoning being discharged, and two Chairs ordered to the Door, my Father desired me to meet him at the same Tavern, the following Evening; and said that, in the mean Time, he would think of settling some certain Income upon me; and thus we parted, as though our Souls had accompanied each other.
It was now near Two o'Clock, and the Morning bitter cold. My
Arabella
had, long since, put her Child to Rest; and I found her in Tears by a Fire, scarce alive. She started up, on my entering; her Face gleamed with a sickly Joy; and she uttered some soft Reproaches, of Love and Apprehension, for my Absence at those Hours.
Before I ventured to let in the full Tide of our returning Happiness on her weak and alarmed Spirits; I took out some Confections and a Pint of Sack, which I had purposely brought in my Pocket. I broke some Naple Biscuit into a Cup, and, pouring some of the Wine upon it, I set her the Example, and prevail'd on her to eat.
Mean while, she gazed, earnestly, and inquisitively, in my Face. My
Hammy,
she tenderly cried, what is the meaning of this? What Eyes are these,
Hammy,
what new kind of a Countenance is this you have brought home to me? Ah, forbid it, my God! that the Darling of my Soul should have done any Thing criminal. First, perish your
Arabella,
perish also her Infant, rather than, on our Account, or on any Account, the least of the Virtues of my
Hammy
should be lost.
No, no, my Angel, I cried, Daughter of highest Heaven! God has been wonderfully gracious to me, he blesses me, for your Sake, my
Arabella.
I have seen my Father, we are happily reconciled, and Famine and Affliction shall come near us, no more.
I then took the Bellows, and lighted up a good Fire, and, while we were emptying our Pint, of which I compelled my Wife to take the larger Share, I gave her a transporting Detail of what had passed; and poured my Purse of Guineas into her Lap. So, we went to Bed in Peace, regardless of Futurity, the Happiest of all the Pairs on whom the succeeding Sun arose.
We lay in Bed, till the Day was far advanced. I then ordered some comforting white Wine Caudle for Breakfast, and, calling up the Landlady, I discharged our Quarter's Rent.
When she was dismissed; I consulted with my Wife whether she would choose to retire to
France
or
Holland,
or rather to
York,
or some other remote Place, within the Kingdom. But, reflecting again, on the present Excess of my Father's Tenderness for me, she joined, in thinking it advisable to act with his Concurrence; and I determined, that very Evening, to reveal to him, in Confidence, the whole pathetic History of our Marriage and Adventures.
Mean while, I thought it best, in all Events, to secure the Means of moderately compassing our Purpose, by taking up the Â£500 from my Father's Banker. I found, by Experience, that I had now little to fear from being known to any one. My shabby Apparel, and emaciated Face and Limbs, that had prevented the Knowledge and Remembrance of a Father, appeared a double Security against all other Eyes. I therefore adventured, though not without Circumspection, to Mr.
Giles
's in
Lombard Street,
and, presenting my Bill, demanded Payment.
My Friend, said Mr.
Giles,
it is not two Hours, since a Stop was put to the Payment of that Draught; and I was desired, at the same Time, to put this Paper into the Hands of the Party who should call. So saying, he gave me a Note which I opened, with a Trepidation that was turned into Agony on reading the following Words.
To
Hammel Clement.
MOST subtle, and most accursed of all cruel Contrivers! thou didst thyself, then, set that Villain on thy foolish and fond Father, by whom his Blood was shed, and his Life nearly lost. I renounce thee, I abjure thee from henceforth, and for ever. And, as I continue to disclaim all Sorts of Ties with thee, either here, or hereafter; so may Heaven continue to prosper,
Bartholomew Clement.
On reading this dreadful Paper, I retired from the Counter without speaking a Word. I got home, I know not how, for I neither knew what I did, nor considered what I was about. I walked up Stairs, without perceiving that I was followed. But, I had scarce got into my Room, when five or six Men entered, almost along with me; and one of them, stepping directly up to my Wife, cried, Mistress, I arrest you in his Majesty's Name.
Hereat, I turned, and was stunned, and roused again in an Instant. I caught up the Poker, and, aiming at a well dressed Man, whose Face was not wholly unknown, and who appeared the most active and joyous of the Crew, I missed the Crown of his Head, but tore off one Ear, and cut him, through his clothes and Shoulder, to the Bone. I then flew upon the rest. I dealt my Blows, with inconceivable Fury and Quickness. I cleared my Room in a few Seconds and, though several Shots were fired at me from the Stairs, I chased them all to the Entry, and, returning to my
Arabella,
I barrocaded the Door.
It was then that she interposed, and, dropping on her Knees before me, what is my
Hammy
about, she cried, what Madness has possessed my Love? Would you be guilty of actual and instant Murders, through a rash and vain Attempt, of rescuing from our Laws a Person whom neither God, nor Man hath yet condemned? This, indeed, were to ensure the Ruin you apprehend. Ah, no, my Heart's Master, let us neither commit nor fear Iniquity. Join with me, my
Hammy,
let us trust in our GOD, and nothing, but Good, can happen unto us.
While she spoke, the late Terrors of her Countenance disappeared; and her Aspect was gradually overspread with a Serenity, to be imagined, in some Measure, from the Face of an Evening Heaven in Autumn; when the Songs of Harvest are heard through the Villages, all about.
I gazed on her, with a speechless and complacent Reverence. She gently took the Weapon from my unresisting Hand; and, leading me back, she seated me in the furthest Chair. She, then, removed every Bar and Obstacle to their Entrance. The Stairs were, now, filled with People who had been called to the Assistance of the King's Officers, but they still appeared apprehensive and fearful of advancing.
Gentlemen, said
Arabella,
be pleased to walk in; I deliver myself peaceably into your Hands; ye shall find no further Opposition to his Majesty or the Laws. The Officers, accordingly entered, but bowing, and with a timid kind of Respect; neither did any of them offer to lay a Hand upon her. Good God! Madam, exclaimed the Foremost, is it possible you should be guilty of the Crimes laid to your Charge, by that Rascal whom your Husband has Half killed. He is carried off to the Doctors; but I think, in my Conscience, that he has got his Deserts; and, as for the few Hurts that we have received, we excuse your Husband, Madam, for your Sake; and we think him the braver and the better Man, for what he did. By my Soul, sweet Madam, you are well worth defending.
I thank ye, Gentlemen, said my Wife, gracefully smiling and curtseying; pray, be pleased to sit, while I prepare to attend you. I am guilty, indeed, of the Death of a Man, and, yet, guilty of nothing that I would not repeat in the Defence of Virtue. But, Gentlement, says she, again smiling, you are likely to be troubled with more Prisoners than you look for. One of them, indeed, is young, and, as little meaning of Harm to any One, as his Mother. I must, therefore, beg your Indulgence in sending for a Coach; and, pray, do me the Favour to accept this Trifle, as the Means of washing away Animosity between you and my Husband. So saying, she presented their Chief with a Guinea, who, rising and awfully bowing, ordered one of the others to step for a Coach.
Had the Harp of
Orpheus
been tuned, like the Voice of my
Arabella
at this Season; it is not to be wondered that Tigers should grow tame, and Bears crouch down before him, and lick his Feet. Since Wretches like these, hardened in hourly Acts of Insolence and Inhumanity, were now awed to downcast Reverence; and, on her Return from the Closet with her Infant in her Arms, dropped a Tear of still Compassion, as though they had not, wholly, forgotten, that they were born of Women.
In the mean Time, my Fury having subsided at the Instance of my Wife, I should certainly have fainted, if I had not been relieved by a Gush of Tears; which I endeavoured to conceal, by turning aside and putting my Hankerchief to my Face. A Cloud, of thick Darkness again overspread my Soul; and every internal Idea grew pregnant, and laboured with Apprehension and Horror. I cursed my Meeting with my Father, and his treacherous Appearance of Bounty, which had served to bring this decisive Ruin upon us; and I looked upon Fortune as solicitous and industrious, to bring Evil and Destruction, out of every Presentment and Promise of Advantage.
Being conducted to Newgate, I agreed with the Keeper for a tolerable Apartment, at two Guineas
per
Week; and, putting on the best Cheer I could affect before my Wife, I sent out for a nourishing Dinner. For I judged it late to be frugal, when Death was at our Door, and I had determined not to survive my
Arabella,
a Moment.
The Day following, I procured Copies of the Depositions of the three Witnesses, the First of whom was our own Servant Maid. These I laid before two of the most learned in the Law, but, received no Consolation from their Report. They told me that, had my Wife been actually guilty of the Robbery, as alleged, she might have had some Prospect of being acquitted of the Murder, by being enabled to bribe off the Evidence. But, that, if she was really innocent of the Robbery as I affirmed, it, then, became the very Cause, as well as Interest of the guilty Evidence, to have her condemned on both Articles of Accusation.
As the fearful Day approached, I bought, at second hand, two decent Suits of Mourning, with the requisite Appendages for my Wife and myself. Whenever I could get apart, I was drowned in my Tears, and Half suffocated by my Sobs; and I did every Thing, but pray, for my
Arabella;
for I could not think of lifting my Heart to a Heaven, where I had lost all Dependance.
In the mean Time, my Beloved daily recovered Felsh and Health. Her Eyes grew more brilliant, her Complexion more clear, her Countenance was, as the Surface of a Depth of Peace; and I gathered, I knew not why, a kind of reflected Confidence, by beholding her Aspect.
Early, on the fatal Morning, when I had left her within at her Prayers, and had pulled my Hat over my Eyes, and sat down in a Corner, to vent the Throbbings of my Heart; I cast my Eye on a Paper that appeared from under the Door. I took it up with Precipitation, and, in it, found the following Lines.
I.
Though Mountains threat thy naked Head,
Though circling Gulfs around thee close,
Though Help is distant; Hope is dead;
Though Eearth and Hell are sworn thy Foes:
II.
Yet, Heav'n their Malice shall defy,
And strong, in last Extremes, to save;
Shall stand, with guardian Seraphs, nigh;
And, with thy Sland'rers, glut the Grave.
I had no sooner read this Paper, than I dropped down, involuntarily, on my Knees. My Hands clenched together; and I breathed up a most ardent Petition, that some over-ruling Power would take my
Arabella
under his Protection.
Soon after, she came forth, adorned like the Moon when girt about with Clouds, through whose Blackness her Beauty breaks forth with improved Lustre.
While we fat at Breakfast, I presented her with the Verses. She read them, over and over, with deep Attention; and then, returning them with a Smile; this, says she, has been the Stratagem of some very charitable Person, who judged that Hope was wanting to support me at such a Trial.
As the dreadful Hour was at Hand; and as I had considered, before now, that at last it must come. I had prepared a small Bottle of Salts and a Cordial, to support myself, as well as my Wife, from an unseemly Dejection of Spirits in Court.
Ah, Sir! can you tell me how one Thing should come to pass? can you account for this most extraordinary of all the Workings in human Nature? That a Man, at some times, should more feelingly live, or die in Others, than in himself. Had I been called to my last Audit, had the Decision of my own Existence been at Stake, my Apprehensions, as I think, could not have equalled what I felt, at that Period.
At length, the Keeper appeared, and warned my
Arabella
that she must speedily set out. I turned, instantly, cold and pale; and, it was long before I recovered Strength to rise from my Chair. In the mean Time my Wife returned to our Bedchamber, and, bringing out her Infant, gave him in Charge to a Nursekeeper; she, then, held her Hands over him, and raised her Eyes to Heaven, in Blessing, for some Time. Again she fixed them on his Face, and, gazing upon him, as it were, for a last farewell Look; Tear dropped after Tear, in a pathetic and affectionate Silence.
Being conducted to the
Old-Baily,
my Wife, on entering the Court, turned suddenly pale; and her Countenance was downcast with a Diffidence that she could not for some Time overcome. The Concourse was excessively great, and, chiefly, consisting of the Nobility and Gentry of both Sexes. The great Man himself was there, with a crowd of his Dependents, and all the male and female Relations and Friends of the Deceased.
I gave my
Arabella
the Salts to smell to, and, as she weakly, and bashfully advanced to the Bar, a confused and jarring Murmur was heared on all Sides; and the Words
Impudence,
and
Innocence,
resounded throughout.
When, according to Order, she had held up her Hand, and heared her Indictment; the Judge, with a Countenance and Voice equally stern, demanded Guilty or not Guilty? She answered, Guilty, my Lord, I confess, of the Death of Lord
Stivers,
but, never guilty of any Kind of Robbery or Malice. Woman, said the Judge, you confess yourself guilty, and I should proceed to your Sentence. But, I ask you, for the last Time, Guilty or not Guilty? Not guilty, my Lord, she then rejoined; if to do what I approve, and shall never repent of, is not to be guilty.
Again, the Murmur was repeated, but continued much longer, and, with more Virulence on the one Part, and more Concern on the other.
I shall not detain you, Sir, with an Account of the Examination of the two first Witnesses, one of whom had been our own Servant Girl, and the other the principal Footman of Lord
Stivers.
They had all Manner of Encouragement, and Countenance from the Court, and concurred in ev'ry Circumstance that cou'd serve for Condemnation. The Sound of Triumph was heared, through all the Gentry, and the Populace, sighingly, gave my
Arabella
for lost.
The third Witness was then called. He was a very genteel and modest-looking young Man, and was now out of Livery.
My Lord, says he, with a respectful but resolute Voice, before I give my Testimony in this Case, I request that the two first Witnesses should be taken into Custody. Into Custody? cried the Judge, do you know what you say? I do know what I say, my Lord, and I repeat my Request that they should be taken into Custody. Why, Friend, said the Judge, they are, as you are, they are Witnesses for the Crown against a Criminal, and no Man has a Right to order them into Custody. I say, rejoined the Youth, with an Air still more determined, that they are Witnesses against Innocence, against his Majesty, and against the Laws. That they alone are criminal; that I am Evidence against them; and, I, again, require it of your Lordship, of the Jury, and of all present, that they should not be permitted to make their Escape.
I see, exclaimed the Judge, you are a prevaricating Villain; but, I shall trounce you before we part. Where is this Fellow's Examination?
My Lord, my Lord, said the young Man, with somewhat of a severe and sarcastical Tone. You were not placed there to prejudicate, in any Matter; no more than I was called here to be Brow-beat and sentenced without Trial. If you find that I prevaricate, if you desire to fift me as Wheat, and find any Chaff in me; I refuse not the bitterest Punishment that our Laws can inflict. But, as your Lordship observes, I am an Evidence for the Crown, and his Majesty, God be praised, will not fix his Tribunal in any Unrighteousness. I therefore demand to be heared, in the Cause to which I am cited; and all present shall be assured that I speak nothing but the Truth. And you, Gentlemen of the Jury! I petition you to intercede, in favour of Equity with his Lordship, and to prevail that these Criminals, for such I affirm them to be, should not be suffered to get away. And further, that they should be instantly searched; and all, that is found about them, reserved for the Inspection of yourselves and his Lordship.
My Lord, said the Foreman, I humbly conceive that no ill Consequence can ensue; from searching and setting a Watch over those People; their Testimony is already given, and can't be invalidated thereby.
I cannot agree to it, answered the Judge. They are free Subjects. There is no Indictment nor Deposition against them. They are, also, Evidence for his Majesty, and are therefore under his peculiar Protection. But, I would willingly hear what this Fellow, this Turncoat has to say for himself.
My Lord, replied the Youth, I now stand before a Tribunal that is, infinitely, more aweful than that of your Lordship. And, provided I approve my Truth before God, I shall be the less afflicted for having fallen under your Lordship's Displeasure. My Name is
Edward Longfield.
I was born to happier Prospects. My Father was a Gentleman. And, about eighteen Months ago, I took the Degree of Batchelor at Queen's College in
Oxford.
But, Misfortunes and Misunderstandings happening in our Family, I was left to be the Former of my own Fortunes, and, arriving at
London,
I was taken into Service by my late Lord
Stivers.
He grew fond of me, beyond my Merits, and I began to partake of his Friendship and Confidence, at the Time that I was deprived, of the most generous of Masters, by the most unhappy of all Events.
My Lord had one Foil to his many Virtues. It was an invincible Passion for Female-Beauty. The last Night of his Life, having called me aside,
Ned,
says he, I must take you on an Adventure To-morrow. I have positively the finest Girl in the Universe in Chase; and I must enjoy her in all Events. But the Devil on't is that she is virtuous, though I hope not incorruptible. I have put her Husband out of the Way upon a feigned Action for Debt; and I have bribed her Maid over to my Party. So, that I have nothing to contend with but her own lovely Person, and that will be the sweetest Dispute in the World. Sure, my Lord, I cried, you wouldn't force her. Pshaw, said he, damn your impertinent Scruples. Another such Word,
Ned,
and you are blown with me, I can tell you. A fine Woman, my Lad, must be won at any Rate; if she is garrisoned with Virtue, and cannot be got by Stratagem; she must be taken by Storm.
The Day following, my Lord took me, and his Footman
Robert
there, who is one of the Witnesses, to a Tavern directly opposite to the House of the Prisoner. He dined there, alone, and kept us in waiting most Part of the Afternoon, in expectation of Intelligence from that other Witness there, who has borne false Testimony against her Mistress. As he looked out, from Time to Time, at one of the Street Windows, he at last, as I suppose, received the appointed Signal; for, hurrying down Stairs, he ordered us to follow. The Door was, purposely, held open for us by that Woman. Is all safe,
Deb?
says my Lord, Yes, says
Deb;
but may I depend on these who come with you? You may Child, cries my Lord, they are my own People. It's very well, cries
Deb,
I have just got Miss
Hodgins
out of your Way. My Mistress is above and alone for want of better Company. To her then, my Lord, she is a Dish for an Emperor. But, if she should prove too many for you, I know where the Shame will lie for ever. Well, well, cries my Lord, shut the Door softly
Deb;
and take these Lads, down with you, to the Kitchen. But, whatever ye hear, on your Lives! let me have no Stir, I charge ye. So saying, my Lord went, tripping, up Stairs; and we followed that bad Woman to her darker Region.
I soon observed that my Campanion, Mr.
Robert
there, was intent on making up his Acquaintance with Mrs.
Deborah;
and, as I found myself extremely uneasy, I gave them the slip, without being observed; and, stealing up Stairs, I put my Ear to the Door where I heared the Voice of my Master. Blessed Heaven! to what surpassing Sentiments was I, then, an amazed Witness! to what Proofs of a Virtue, that cannot be rated, at less than Divine! If I should not be tedious, I would deliver to the Court; to you, my Lord, in particular; and to you Gentlemen of the Jury; the best Account, I can, of those wonderful Passages.
Hear him, hear him, hear him! was then almost the universal Cry! till he was permitted, by the Bench; and desired, by the Jury to speak with Freedom.
He, then, repeated, in a more ample and pathetic Manner, all that passed, as I have told you, between Lord
Stivers
and my Wife. But, stopping, as he drew near to the fatal Catastrophe. I could no longer bear, he said, the piercing Cries, and agonizing Shrieks of such Virtue, in such Extremity. Had I any kind of Weapon, I thought I should have done my Lord good Service, by protecting the Purity, he was about to violate. But I trembled and grew exceeding sick, and, hast'ning down to the Kitchen, I threw myself into a Chair and swooned away.
While I was in my Fit, and that
Robert
and
Deborah
were busy about me. The fatal Stroke, as I imagine, was given, and the Prisoner made her Escape, with her Infant in her Arms. When I was somewhat recovered, and had taken a Dram of Mrs.
Deborah
's Bottle; she put down the Kettle and invited us to a Dish of Tea. I requested my Companions, from Time to Time, to step out and listen; but they reported that all was quiet above Stairs; and, when I wondered at this; tut, says
Deborah,
the Lovers have made it up before now, I warrant; and my Mistress is so well pleased with what she was forced to, that it's well for your Master if he gets off before Midnight.
At length it grew darkish, and, being all of us Surprise'd that no Candles were called for, we went, in a Body, up Stairs, and
Deborah
ventured, gently, to tap at the Door; but, hearing no Voice nor Stirring in the Chamber, she turned the Bolt, softly; and, peeping in, she gave a loud Shriek, and drew suddenly back again. We then entered together, and as I was prepared, by my Knowledge of the Lady's Virtue, for some dreadful Catastrophe, I was the less shocked and concerned at what I beheld.
The Floor was Half covered with clotted Blood. My Master lay in the Midst, already stiff and cold; and Part of the fatal Scissars was, still, within the Wound. We all stood, for some Time, in silent Astonishment and then, with joint Tears, lamented his Fate. At length, says
Deborah,
I would gladly see if my bloody Mistress has taken Care to provide for her Journey: So saying, she stooped, and, taking his Lordship's Purse from his Pocket, she counted down two hundred and ninety seven Guineas. She, then, took out his fine Gold-Repeater; and, next, his Gold Snuff-Box; and last took his large Diamond Ring from his Finger.
Come my Lads, says
Deborah,
my Lord's Silence gives Consent, and we can no more be said to rob this Piece of Earth, than the People in the Mines, who gather Gold from Clay. If my Mistress is ever taken, she must suffer Death for the Murder; and they can do no more to her, for the Robbery, and twenty such Matters together. If you will, therefore, be of my Counsel, we will comfort ourselves, as we ought, for this melancholy Business; and share a Prize between us, that no one else has a Right to, and that no Body will want.
Robert
did not hesitate long. In a little Time, he appeared more sanguine than
Deborah
herself; and they urged me to join them, by a Number of interesting and cajoling Instances. I was dispirited. I was affrightened. I saw a Scene of Blood and Slaughter before me; and I doubted not that, if I refused them, I should be made the second Victim to their Resentment and Avarice. I pretended to value the Watch at an unmeasurable Rate, and that I should be greatly the Gainer, if I got it for my Dividend. Mrs.
Deborah
then went to her Mistresses Drawers; and, taking out Half a Dozen of Silver Spoons, a Tea Equipage, and several Articles in Laces and Cambricks; she fairly laid them before us; and observed, at the same Time, that her Mistress would not call in a Hurry to demand them; and that the Landlord would take all if we did not come in for Snacks. She then made a new Division, she compelled me further to accept of the Snuff-Box. She gave the Purse of Gold entire to
Robert;
and contented, herself with the Diamond Ring, some Gold Medals, my Lord's Handkerchief, and the Plunder of her Mistress.
While Mr.
Longfield
was in this Part of his Testimony; the Foreman of the Jury cried out, Stay, Sir! Good People, pray stop those Witnesses, there! I see, they are making off. And, now, do us the Favour to search their Pockets; and to put what ye find into two Hats severally; and to hand them up to us.
This being accordingly done; Mr.
Longfield,
says the Foreman, be pleased now to proceed.
I have little further to say, replied Mr.
Longfield.
Here is my noble Master's Watch; and here is his Snuff-Box. They are undoubtedly known to many honourable Persons, at present, in Court. And, I bless my God that I have been enabled to preserve them, for the Vindication of Innocence, and the Illustration of Virtue, at this Day.
Here, Mr.
Longfield
paused; and the Judge cried out, Clerk, hand me up the Examination of this Prevaricator. This his Lordship perused with a Countenance, and Scrutiny, apparently inveterate. But, finding that the Deponent had not touched upon the Robbery; and, that neither the Words,
feloniously,
nor,
of malice,
were inserted in that Part, that referred to the Death of Lord
Stivers,
he tore the Examination into twenty Pieces. Come, come, he cried, again, I have not yet done with this same
Longfield.
I perceive, perfectly well, how he came by the Watch and Suff-Box. The Transference was not difficult, from the Prisoner, who stole them, to this her Confederate. But, tell us, my wonderfully honest Friend! How came you to keep these Things from their lawful Owners, for the very long Space of twelve Months and upward? Why did you not, immediately, or long before now, give Examinations against those, whom you so suddenly take it into your Head to accuse? And, why would you suffer that, so exceeding chaste, and innocent Lady, to labour, all this Time, under the Infamy with which her Character, in my judgement, is still justly loaded?
To all these Questions, Mr.
Longfield
barely smiled; but, bowing with his Head, and making a Motion with his Hand to two Gentlemen, who sat on one Side in the Gallery. Mr.
Archibald,
an eminent Merchant, and an Alderman of the City, got up and spoke to the following Effect.
I wish, my Lord, that I could as well content your Lordship, as I can satisfy the Jury, and all others present, on the Articles you require. The Day, immediately succeeding this fatal Accident, Mr.
Longfield
came to me, and, in presence of Mr.
Truelove
here, my worthy and substantial Neighbour, gave a Detail, almost Word for Word, of all that he has this Hour deposed in Court. He then deposited the Watch and Snuff-Box with us; and did not reclaim them till early this Morning. As I am of his Majesty's Peace, he, also, gave in this Examination, before me, which however I must not venture to hand over to your Lordship, till I have your previous Engagement that you will not tear it. I thereupon offered to issue Warrants for apprehending the Delinquents; but Mr.
Longfield,
most sensibly and judiciously, observed, that such a Step must, unquestionably, shut the Door against Justice and all Knowledge of the Truth. That the Criminals were Two to One, against their Accuser. That on the slightest Alarm, they would infallibly abscond. Or make away with the Effects, of which they now held themselves the peaceable and unquestioned Possessors. Or contrive some further Plot, to invalidate his Evidence. Or, probably, make him away by Pistol, or Poison, and so deprive that unhappy Gentlewoman of the only Witness of her Innocence. But, says he, if they are permitted to enter the Court, under the Confidence of my Confederacy; they will have no Reserve upon them; no foreformed Evasions, or Contrivances for Escape. My unexpected Testimony will suddenly confound their Guilt; and, they may happen to carry some Articles about them, which might serve for their Conviction, beyond ten Witnesses.
In the mean Time, Mr.
Longfield,
Mr.
Truelove,
and I, were solicitous and unwearied in our Inquiries after the unfortunate Prisoner, that we might persuade her to stand her Trial, and to deliver herself up to Justice. But all our Search proved fruitless, till the Day in which she was discovered and taken.
Here, Mr.
Archibald
ended, and the Judge exclaimed; Crier! call the two first Witnesses into Court; that we may hear what they say to this fair Weather Speech. The Crier, accordingly vociferated several
O Yeses,
for
Deborah Skinner,
and
Robert Callan,
to come into Court. But, had they been within call, they did not choose to hear. During the Attention of the Court and Jury to Alderman
Archibald,
they had imperceptibly slipped behind their next Neighbours, and proceeding, in like Manner, from one to another, they at length confounded themselves with the Crowd, and got clear off.
My Lord, then, began to sum his Charge to the Jury; and dwellt, with much Emphasis, on some Articles. Here, says he, we have lost a Nobleman; a Minister; one of the first Ornaments of our Country, and Stays of our Land. And what, I pray ye, have we got, in recompense of this great Damage? Why, my Friends, we have got a new Thing upon the Earth; we have got a Saving of the Honour of a Milliner But, if this Princess is inviolate, as still is pretended; how come she to be guilty of this most horrid of all Murders, before she knew to what Extremity his Lordship would have proceeded? How did she dare, capitally, to execute a Peer of the Realm, on a simple Attempt, for which our Laws would not have confined a common Porter? This Woman must, certainly, have been a Trader in Blood; and her felonious Intents, and Malice, are fully expressed, in the very peculiar Use and Inhumanity of the Weapon, with which she perpetrated this most desperate Deed. You need not therefore, Gentlemen go out of you Box to bring her in guilty of the Murder. I will not affirm, with equal Certainty, touching the Robbery. And yet, to me it is apparent, that she could not have enterprised so barbarous a Fact, if she had not done it in Prospect of plundering the Deceased. But, as she is capitally punishable in the first Instance; I leave ye, Gentlemen, to determine of the Second, at Pleasure.
First, permit us, my Lord, replied the Foreman, to examine what we have got in these Hats. He then drew a long Purse, from among the Relicks of
Robert,
and having counted out seventy Guineas, Mr.
Longfield,
says he, would you know my Lord's Purse? If it is my Master's Purse, said
Longfield,
it is of green Silk, and has toward the Top, a Coronet and the Letter
S.
wrought under it, in Silver Twist. The very same Sir indeed, rejoined the Foreman. And, now, let us see what Mrs.
Deborah
might have got in her honest Keeping? So saying he took, from the second Hat, a small Wooden Box. It was nearly stuffed with Cotton, in which he found my Lord's Diamond Ring, three Gold Medals, and the Ends of the Handles of several silver Spoons. Mrs.
Clement,
says he, I imagine we may have got some of your Property, among us. Pray, had you any Mark to your Silver Spoons? Yes Sir, said she, scarce audible; a
G.
at Top for
Graves,
and a
D.
and
A.
below, for
Dorothy
and
Arabella.
I wish, Madam, replied this Gentleman, that we were equally enabled to find an Equivalent for your Merits, as to restore to you this trifling Remnant of your Rights.
Come, Gentlemen, cried the Judge, the Day wears apace. It is Time for ye to retire, and consult on the Verdict ye are to bring in.
My Lord, answered the Foreman, you, truely observed that we need not leave our Box, for the Purpose you require. We are already agreed, and unanimous in our Verdict. And, I would to Heaven! that we were not confined, on this Occasion, to literal Precedents and Forms of Law; that we might give a Verdict, some way adequate to the Merits of the Prisoner, who, however depressed by Fortune, is superior in all Excellencies; whom we judge to be an Honour to Human-Nature, and the first Grace and Ornament of her own Sex. But, since we are limited, by Custom, in these Matters. We do say, with one Voice, and a Conscience that compells us to Utterance. Not Guilty, my Lord, not guilty!
The Words were scarce pronounced, when the Court-House was almost split by a sudden Peal. Hats, Caps, and Wigs, universally filled the Air, and jostled against each-other. The Triumph was caught and echoed by the Crouds without; and the Sound was repeated, and floated, from Street to Street, till it seemed to die away, in distant Parts of the City.
My Wife, then turned gracefully Curtsying to the Foreman, I thank you, Sir, says she; I thank ye, Gentlemen, says she again, Curtsying to the Rest of the Jury. And then, glancing modestly round, she saluted the Assembly, and sat down. But I could not contain my Gratitude, my Transport overpowered me; and, falling on my Knees, and lifting my Hands toward the Jury. GOD, alone, can reward ye, Gentlemen, I cried; may he for ever preserve the Prosperities, Honours, and Families, of the worthy Citizens of
London,
from Violation and Insult.
I then rose, hastily. I slipped out of the Bar; and, rushing up to Mr.
Longfield,
I caught him, eagerly, about the Neck. I could not speak. I hid my Face in his Bosom, and broke into Tears. He attempted to disengage himself; but I held him fast. I believe, said he, you must be Mr.
Clement.
I congratulate you, Sir, with all my Soul. But, you owe me nothing; I barely did my Duty.
O, my Friend, my Brother, my Preserver! I cried; I owe you more than Life. Existence had been my greatest of Curses, without you. That I am not, at this Moment, the deepest damned of the Creation. That I find myself the most blessed of all Beings. To you, alone, it is owing, my
Longfield,
my Deliverer! Nay, hope not to escape me; we, never more must part. You are my Captive for Life. And I, and all that I am, or have, is your's to Eternity.
As the People, within and without, were still in great Commotion, the Court appeared much alarmed; and the Judge, and most of the Gentry, made homeward, through a private Door that opened into a back Alley. But, their Fears were groundless. For the crowd was wholly intent on another Object, and impatiently waited for a Sight of my
Arabella.
As she walked forward, attended by Mr.
Longfield
and myself, they made way, for her, on either Hand; and the Atmosphere again rung with Shouts and Acclamations. So sincere is the Respect that the Populace pay to Virtue; and such is their Exultation when Innocence rises superior to Oppression. But, when Innocence and Virtue are accompanied by Beauty, their Reverence grows almost criminal, and approaches to Adoration.
Thus we returned to
Newgate,
amidst the Blessings, Prayers, and Praises, of a yielding Multitude who, still, respectfully opened as
Arabella
advanced. The Windows, on all Sides, poured forth Congratulations, and those through whom we had passed, pressed forward for another Sight, as though their Eyes could not be satisfied with beholding.
Before we entered her late Prison, my Wife turned about, and curtsied, three or four Times, to her numerous Attendants, with an acknowledging Grace and Humility that seemed oppressed by their Favours. She then entered hastily and, running up Stairs, she caught her Child from the Nursekeeper. She held him some Time in her Arms; her Bosom gently heaved; and the Tears rolled, in Silence, down her placid Countenance. But, on our Approach, she turned suddenly into the Bedchamber; shut to the Door; and continued there in private for near an Hour.
In the mean Time, I sent out for a warm Dinner and a Bottle of Wine. Mr.
Longfield
now told me that he had, often, been tempted to introduce himself to us, during my Wife's Confinement; but, he feared that the Discovery of any Acquaintance or Correspondence, between us, might prejudice
Arabella
upon her Trial. And that, therefore, he had made use of the little Stratagem of the Verses, which he had thrust under our Door, in order to preserve us from a total Depression of Spirits.
When the Cloth was laid; I whispered gently, through the Keyhole, to my
Arabella;
and soon after she came forth, with a Harmony and Beatitude of Motion and Aspect, as though she had instantly dropped from that Heaven, which had wholly possessed her during her Absence.
At Table, Mr.
Longfield
gave us some Heads of his History. He further told us that, since the Death of his late Lord, he had entered into another Service; but that he had been out of Place for about a Month past. I have saved, says he, about thirty Guineas of my Wages; but that is not the whole of my Treasure. This Morning, as I was just upon entering the Court, a very comely Gentlewoman twitched me by the Sleeve. She asked me if my Name was not
Longfield,
and if I was not one of the Witnesses on the impending Trial? When I answered in the Affirmative, she took me a little aside, and, putting ten Guineas into my Hand, keep up, said she, to your Evidence, be zealous in avenging the Blood of your Lord, and this is not the last Gratification which you shall receive.
After some further Discourse, I called up the Keeper, discharged the Reckoning and Fees, and returned Thanks for his Civility and particular Respects to my
Arabella.
I then sent for a Coach, and we drove Home together.
On the Way, I prevailed upon Mr.
Longfield
to take up his Lodgings, at Mrs.
Jennett
's; provided he could be accommodated, at a reasonable Rate.
Mrs.
Jennett
received us, with warm Congratulations, we immediately ordered the Kettle down, and invited her to a Dish of Tea; over which she agreed with our Friend, for the Street Room on the same Floor; at three Shillings
per
Week.
The Day following, I left Mr.
Longfield
to entertain my
Arabella.
I went to our late Landlord, and called him to an Accout for the Furniture we had left in his House. Hereupon, he produced an Inventory of Particulars, taken upon Oath, with the Bill of Appraisment and Sale, and returned me the Surplus, that remained over the Rent, amounting to somewhat upward of nine Pounds.
Deborah,
as I suppose, had carried off whatever was most valuable and portable.
I then hastened to the Miss
Hodginses,
they received me with such Transports as my Heart found to be unfeigned. They, already knew the happy Tidings. They huddled on some loose Matters; and away we tripped, together, with all possible Dispatch.
The Meeting was accompanied by many tender and mutual Tears. Ah, my Love! cried the Eldest of the Miss
Hodginses.
Pride and Beauty of your Sex, how jealous we are of you! We went Yesterday to your Trial, with the most substantial of our Friends, in order to give you a Character, if required; but, you neither called upon us, nor would look on the Side where we stood. Ah, my dear Girls, my sweet Friends! cried
Arabella,
how could I hope or imagine, that you would acknowledge or even think of so low and lost a Wretch as I was.
Arabella
was now at Liberty to revisit her old Acquaintance. She was caressed more than ever; and took in so much Work that she was obliged to hire a Girl to attend the Child.
I was now at the very Pinnacle of human Happiness. I had twenty Guineas left of the fifty I got from my Father. My Wife earned from two to her three Shillings
per
Day. And Mr.
Longfield,
who generally dieted with us, frequently brought Tea and Sugar, or a Bottle of Cordial, or some such Matter in his Pocket, which he pretended to have gotten excessively cheap, or as a Present.
Thus we lived, in a Kind of frugal Affluence. Affliction was no more. The Remembrance of Distress and Poverty had vanished, as a Dream. Our Days moved upon Down; and Joy and Peace, nightly prepared our Pillows.
Happy Days, happy Hours, above the Lot of Mortality! Heaven preserve me from ever tasting the like again; lest they also should be attended by so terrible a Reverse.
Mr.
Longfield
was very lovely in his Person and Manners. He had made the Belles Letters his peculiar Study; and he used to procure a Variety, of entertaining Novels and Memoirs, in
French,
which he read fluently into
English,
while my Wife was at Work. We had contracted a Friendship which I imagined too strict for Time or Chance to untie; and I loved him the better for his Attention to my
Arabella,
whose Entertaiment seemed to form the chief Delight of his Life.
I gave him my Story, in Parts, from Time to Time; and he had plentifully watered the several Passages with his Tears. His own Experience had taught him to join, with Mr.
Goodville,
in thinking that the Education, of a mere Scholar, was no way suited to the common Occasions of Life. He, therefore, introduced me to Mr.
Marfelt,
his late Master, to whom he had recommended me as private Tutor to his Son; and we agreed at Â£50
per Ann.
to commence as soon as the young Gentleman should descend from the Nursery.
Mr.
Longfield,
as I told you, was very lovely in his Person; and he daily became more amiable and engaging in my Eyes. I was pleased that he appeared, in the same Light, to my Wife. She was indebted to him for her Life, and, in her, I held myself indebted to him, for all Things. I thought that we could never love him enough; and I, daily and nightly, importuned my
Arabella,
to affect him with a Tenderness equal to my own.
At length I became uneasy, I knew not why, nor wherefore. I grew diffident at the Comparison which I made in my Mind between
Longfield
and myself, and I was disgusted, as it were, with my own Demerits, wherefore, I grew dejected and dispirited, and yet affected to appear the reverse of what I was. I however sighed in secret. When I could form a Pretence for retiring or going abroad, I took a solitary Walk or withdrew to some Recess, where I lightened my Oppression by a loose to my Tears; and I was thereby the better enabled to seem cheerful, on my Return, and to assume a Face of Gaiety that was foreign to my Heart. Ah! are not the real Evils of Life sufficient? Yet Man adds to the Heap by his tendency to realize what is merely imaginary.
The Source of my Malady was now no longer a Secret to me. My
Longfield,
I cried to myself, my
Arabella,
my Angel, you are still faithful my
Longfield,
you are still chaste my
Arabella;
and there is nothing, wherewith I can reproach the one, or the other. But you are, both of ye, too amiable; you are fitted for each-other. Your
Clement
loves ye too well to be a Bar to your Happiness. You Two are the whole Treasure and Delight of his Existence. He will have no Bliss but your's; your Happiness shall be his; and he will die to accomplish it; since his Life is an Interruption.
I was pleased that I daily declined; but the Affectation of Cheerfulness became irksome and painful to me. One Night, as we sat together, my Wife looked at me, with an affectionate Disturbance; what is the Matter,
Hammy,
she cried. What is come over my Love? You look not, you speak not, like the once fond, the delighting and delighted Consort of your
Arabella.
Ah, I cried, it is enough. I die, and I die contented, since I leave the only two happy, for whom I could wish to live. What is this I hear,
Hammy?
replied my
Arabella;
you die, you say, and you say, also, that you die contented. Ah !    You love me no longer; what Business have I, then, any longer to --live, she would have said, but she, instantly, swooned.
My Eyes were suddenly opened. I cursed my infatuating Jealousy. I wished for instant Death to rid me of my Confusion. Neither did I dare to look up into the Face of my injured Friend, who by this as I feared, had discovered my Folly; and who, all trembling and pale as Death, was assiduous in helping to the Recovery of my Wife.
At length she opened her Eyes, and, looking about with a languid kind of Displeasure, Mr.
Longfield,
says she, your Services have been great; but, at present, I am not under any Necessity for your Assistance; whereupon, he, silently, bowed and withdrew to his Apartment.
I then dropped on my Knees before her. My
Arabella,
my Angel, I cried. Loveliest of Womankind, most consummate of human Creatures! --But, here, with a forbidding Hand, and a Countenance averted, no
Hammy,
no, says she, (in a Voice interrupted by Tears,) after what has passed your Lips, I cannot be deceived, and I will not be comforted. You would leave me you say,
Hammy,
and you would leave me forlorn. But, I will not be forsaken, I will prevent your Unkindness. I will go where I shall not be altogether friendless. Ah, my Aunt! my all Relations in One, why did you abandon me? You thought you left me the World, in this Husband, this Friend and Protector, as you called him. But he says he is contented to part, and he bids me be happy without him. I come then, my dear Aunt; I will rejoin you, my beloved Parent; you will take your forsaken
Arabella
to your Bosom. You will comfort her, the best you can; and we will part no more.
Here, her Words were suffocated by Sobs and a Burst of Affliction. But, still continuing my Posture, I am guilty, my Love, I cried, I am guilty past Pardon. Alas, you have been wedded to Weakness and Frailty, ill deserving of Purity and Perfection like yours. But, I will live, if you desire it, my
Arabella;
I will live, to repent my Follies, and to repair my Defaults. But I cannot, a Minute longer, survive your Displeasure.
She, then beckoned me to rise, and sit beside her, which I did; when, reaching one Arm about my Neck, and gently leaning over, she joined her Face to mine, and silently shed her Sorrows into my Bosom.
Soon after, I perceived that she was seized with a kind of shivering; and, calling to the Girl, I ordered her, in all Haste, to warm the Bed, and I assisted my Wife directly to undress.
As soon as she lay down, and was somewhat composed, I stepped to my Friend's Apartment. I found him leaning on a Table, with his Eyes downcast, like the Image of Discomfort stooping over a Monument. What is the Matter, I said, what ails my dear
Longfield?
I hope I have not offended him past Forgiveness. Indeed, I am not well, says he. Heav'ns, what an Overcasting! of such a Sunshine, too! Do not look at me,
Hammy,
I can't bear to be looked at. I beseech you to leave me to my own Thoughts, till Morning. I understand you, Mr.
Longfield,
I cried, I confess myself no longer worthy of your Friendship, and I shall no more demand it of you, till you condescend to make the Tender; and, so saying, I suddenly quitted his Chamber.
All Night, my
Arabella
was cold and hot, by Turns; and her Sleep was discomposed by Starts and Moanings. In the Morning, I observed that her Breath was short and feverish, and I got up, in haste, and went for a Physician. The Doctor refused to pronounce, with Certainty, on her Disorder; but said that he greatly feared she was taking an Ague.
As soon as he had written his Prescription, I went, eagerly, to wish Mr.
Longfield
a good Morning, and to apologize for the Abruptness of last Night's Behaviour. But, my
Longfield
had taken a long Adieu, and this Letter, which I shall ever preserve about me, was all I had left to console me for his Loss; or, rather, to give me Cause to lament his Departure, for ever.
To Mr.
H. Clement.
I Leave you, dearest of Friends, and I leave you for ever. Wretch that I am to have brought Affliction on the only Two for whom I would have lived, for whom I would have died.
Heavens, what a Fate is mine! I voluntarily depart, and I go where I must be miserable, since I leave those whose Sight and Converse made the Whole of my Enjoyment. That which doubles my Unhappiness is partly to suspect that I have been guilty; is it any Alleviation, that I had no Knowledge of my Fault; and that I now fly from it, on the first Notice?
Your
Arabella,
my
Hammy,
I begin to fear that I loved your
Arabella.
Alas! I, feel that I still love her, and that I must love her during Life. I loved her, indeed, with a Tenderness full of infinite Respect; but the Pangs I suffer, at Parting, give me, also, to understand that I loved her with infinite Passion.
Ah, fond and foolish Passion! that could neither hope, nor wish, nor even accept of any Kind of Gratification, save the Sight and Society of the Object of its Ardour. No, most amiable of Men! were it possible for your
Arabella
to stray, but in Thought from her Truth, from her Duty, from her Tenderness to you, I could have loved her no longer. She would have lost that Seraphic Excellence, that more than mortal Purity, for which I almost adored her; which gave a sweet Apology to my Heart for its Affection; and betrayed me into a Persuasion that I loved her no more than I ought.
I am jealous for you, my Friend, I am jealous of myself, in your dearer Behalf; and I will amply avenge you on the injurious and hapless
Longfield.
Ah, let no Man henceforward, confide to his own Strength. I daily beheld your
Arabella;
I daily conversed with her; but I saw not my Danger; I, therefore, did not resist the Current that drew me beyond my Depth. The Gracefullness of her Motions, the Sound of her Voice, and the Loveliness of her Aspect, hourly sunk upon my Soul, with an intoxicating Delight; and I wished, and was solicitous to become pleasing in her Eyes, at the Time that I would have taken the Life of any Man, who had attempted to deprive you of your smallest Right in her Affections.
My Confession has been full, and reaches the utmost of my Faults; but, from what a Dream of Delight has it suddenly awake me! How blessed have I been with my
Hammy
and his
Arabella!
how happy were we in eachother, surpassing the Lot of Mortality! Enchanting Sensations! Ye are departed for ever; and all the future Portion, that ye leave me, is Bitterness.
But, beware of one Thing, I conjure you, beware, that you never reveal the smallest Hint of my Love, to your
Arabella.
Wound not her Delicacy, I beseech you, with so disgustful a Recollection. Neither deprive your unhappy Friend of the only Consolation that now is left him; an innocent, though fond Hope, that, should she ever remember your
Longfield,
it may not be with Detestation.
Your departed,
Ed. Longfield.
P. S. In the Drawer of my Table, on the left Hand, you will find a no-Paper, carefully sealed, and addressed to you. It contains a poor Legacy, though all that could be bequeathed by
I wept, as I read this pathetic Epistle. I felt all the Passion and Anguish of my Friend. My Breast heaved and was agitated with Emotions of Self-Reproach, and with a Tide of returning Tenderness to my
Longfield.
Ah, unjust, though most generous of Men, I exclaimed, I alone am guilty, and thou assumest to thyself a Burden that thy Virtue disclaims. Would to Heaven that Men, and Angels, might love my
Arabella
with a Purity like thine; she would not then, as now, be wholly dependent, on my sole and poor Guardianship, for the Defence of her Innocence.
I found seventeen Guineas, in the forementioned Paper; a most seasonable, and yet a most unacceptable Supply, as I feared, from the Generosity of my
Longfield
's Temper, that it contained very nearly the whole of his Possessions.
As the Doctor had conjectured; my Wife's Distemper turned out a tertian Ague; and, after exhausting the Circle of the
Materia Medica
toward a Cure; the Dregs of the Disease settled into a Rheumatism, that principally affected her Arms and Hands, and thereby prevented her from earning any Subsistance for herself or her Infant.
It was now upward of four Months, since Mr.
Longfield
had left us; during all which Time, I hardly ever departed from the Side of my
Arabella.
Our Finances were again reduced to about two Guineas, and this was not sufficient to discharge our sixth Quarter, that had been due some Time. I was, however, confident of a Supply in the Tutorship, promised me by Mr.
Marfelt;
and I dressed, in the best I could, and waited upon him.
I was concerned to find the Family in Black. But, when Mr.
Marfelt
himself appeared, and told me, with a Voice interrupted by Sighs, that his only Son, my Pupil in Expectance, had been lately carried off by a malignant Small-Pox, my Mourning passed all Shews and Suits of Sorrow.
I took my Leave, with a Dejection and Absence of Mind, that forgot there was any Road left for me upon Earth. I went, I knew not where, a Way that led from Home. I saw nothing but the Labyrinth within my own Soul; and, from thence I could perceive neither Outlet nor Escape.
Rapines and Robberies, again offered themselves to my View, as the only Expedients, by which Heaven had ordained, that my Wife and my Infant, that Virtue and Innocence should be permitted to live. Nature has cast my Lot, said I to myself, among Tigers and Vultures, who have no Choice, save to perish, or subsist by Prey. I dwelt, long, on this Thought; and then pushed it to Extremity, and the Perpetration of desperate Deeds. Again, the Stretch of my Resolution began to relax; and the Tide of my Thoughts flowed backward to the Sensations and Meltings of Humanity. Ah, I cried, my fellow-Creatures; you, in whom I see myself; my Brothers, in whose Service I would gladly spend my Life; pardon me, that I take from you what I would give you, twenty fold. Or, rather, powerful Author of Nature! I cried, take from us our Existence, since thou refusest the Means whereby we may exist!
My Eyes at last were opened, and I perceived that I was now much further from my Lodgings than when I set out from Mr.
Marfelt
's. I turned homeward, as well as I could, fatigued in Body, and with more than a Mountain's Weight upon my Mind. On the Way, I lifted my Eyes, and wrung my Hands together, in a Kind of Agony; Bread, Bread! I cried inwardly, merciful Heaven, a little, but a very little Bread! my helpless Wife, my helpless Infant! a little Pittance for them, I crave it, in Mercy! and, O, save me from more than the Torments of the damned, from beholding them famished, and gasping for a Morsel of Sustenance before my Face.
I looked round, and beheld nothing but Scenes of Luxury or Plenty; with Joy, Business, or Content, visible in the Countenance of the Meanest. Ah, what is here? said I to myself, Powerful Being, how partial are thy Dispensations! How highly are those exalted; to what a Depth dost thou crush the Wretch whom thy Wrath has distinguished! I am selected from among thy Works. I am, equally, the Outcast of Heaven and of Earth. Might I become, but as one of yonder Beggars, I should derive a chance Morsel from that Charity, which now hardens itself against me, against my Babe, and my
Arabella,
the most pitiable Objects of the Creation.
As soon as I had crawled Home, another Weight was added to the Burden I already bore. A Bailiff was in Waiting; and my Landlady, with an Aspect as inexorable as Iron, ordered me directly into Custody for the last Quarter's Rent.
I was, on this Occasion, obliged to disburse my last two Guineas, and further to deposit my Wife's Gown, as a Security for the small Remainder of Rent and Caption Fees. I had not, now, wherewithal to purchase a Pennyworth of Bread, that, like the Widow of
Sarepta,
my Wife, my Child, and I, for this last Time, might sit down together and eat, before we died.
Thus abandoned of every Hope, divine or human, I did not dare to turn my Eye, to borrow Patience, or Consolation, from the Countenance of the Saint to whom I was united. I pretended to have forgotten somewhat, and again, hastened out of Doors. The Night had just fallen, and was still and gloomy. Rage, Anguish, and Despair gave me new Strength and Spirits; and I turned, fiercely, down an unfrequented Street, without any Arms, save my Fury and natural Phangs, with which I determined, like the maternal Lioness, to rend Subsistance, for my Young, from the first I should encounter.
I perceived a Man advancing, at some Distance. I hastened to meet him, and, coming within a few Paces, stand! I cried, pass no further! Why, said he, with a fearless and benevolent Voice, is there any Thing wherein you desire I should serve you? Oh, save me! I replied, you must, you shall save me from the terrible Damnation of seeing my Wife and Infant famish before me. GOD, said he, sends you this, by my Hands. He sees your Distress, but disapproves your Conduct. You have now twice sinned in this Way. But,
Clement,
beware the third Time; another Offence like this would prove fatal to you.
He spoke, and, putting five Guineas into my Hand, he instantly slipped away or vanished, I know not which; for, such was my sudden Astonishment and Confusion, that I neither remarked nor saw what became of him.
At length, I awake, as from a Trance. I stepped up to a single Lamp that glimmered before me; and, opening my Hand, I perceived that the Money which I held was Gold. I hurried it into my Pocket; and turning back, I began, slow and pensative, to move toward Home. The Fury with which I was, so lately, exasperated against Heaven and Earth, again subsided; and my Heart began to change from that of a Tiger, and to feel a new Infusion of Compunction and Humanity.
Ah, I cried, I am then known. The Darkness of the Night hath not been able to conceal me. My Guilt is laid open before God and his Angels; and my present and past Transgressions are entered in his Book. He yet pities, he yet relieves me. He snatches me from the Gulf, wherein I had already plunged and saw no Bottom; to show me that no Extremity can pass his Power; and that, on this Side of Existence, it is always too early to despair of his Bounty. I will, then, be patient, O my GOD! I will no more repine nor kick against thy Dispensations. It is sufficient that I stand within thy continued Notice. This last Instance of thy Goodness! it is enough, it is enough! I desire no further Proof of thy Providence or Regard; and, though thou kill me, I will trust in thee, to the latest Gasp. But, for me it matters not how thou pleasest to dispose of me. I will surrender to thee that which is infinitely more dear. I confide to thee my Wife and Child. O, that thou didst love them with a Love like mine! But, they are thine, as I am thine; and if they perish before my Eyes, why, let them perish. We were, all, born to perish before the Eyes of our Heavenly Father; and he may slay, without Compunction; who can revive, at his Pleasure; who would not, perhaps, slay us, if it were not to revive us to a better Life; to a Life that shall, no more, be acquainted with Calamity.
Before I reached Home, a sudden Faintishness came over me, and, turning into a Dram-Shop, I called for a Quartern, and changed a Guinea. If the other four Guineas, said I to myself, are made of aetherial Money, I have, however, got something substantial, to supply my little
Tommy
and my dearer
Arabella
with a Morsel of Bread.
As soon as I got to my Lodgings, I redeemed my Wife's Gown, and sent out for a frugal Supper. I, then, stepped up Stairs, and, taking a Chair, just opposite to my Wife, I sat down and continued silent, but dared not to look up. She eyed me, through and through. My
Hammy,
says she, you are apt to meet with strange Adventures, in very short Spaces of Time. I know you not for the same Person; you are not what you were a few Minutes ago.
I, then, found myself under the Necessity of openly avowing to her all that had happened. But, gracious Heaven! to my Death, through Time, and through Eternity, never shall I forget the Reply she made.
Hammy,
said she, with the Face, Air and Accent of Heaven's mildest Minister, it ill becomes me to reprove a respected Husband for the Excess of his Goodness to me and my Child; and yet, I have suffered more from the Consideration of this Excess, than from all our other Trials and Calamities put together. I love you entirely my
Hammy,
but I love that Part of you most, which you appear to regard the least; it is a Part that must survive the Dissolution of all the Rest, their short Joys, their idle Anxieties, their fierce Desires, and empty Possessions, and it must thereafter, be yourself, to all Eternity.
When a Man is bound on a Voyage to some distant Region, he fails not to enquire into the Length and Dangers of the Way; the Nature of the Climate; the Disposition of the Inhabitants; what Food they subsist upon; and what Sort of Goods chiefly, bear a Price or Value in so remote a Country. With such Goods, alone, a wise Voyager will load his Vessel; nay, he will be careful to make and transmit Lodgments, before he sets out; as also, to form and establish previous Friendships in that Country, that he may not be rejected, as one unknown and unregarded, when he happens to arrive. Ah, my Husband, I will not adventure to ask what Enquiries, and Provisions, you have made for the great Purpose.
I once thought, my Love, that Learning was the principal Promoter of Piety; as it best taught the Nature of God and Man; their Relations to Each-other, and the consequent Duties of the Creature to his Creator. But I have, long since, discovered that, to
know,
is not to
feel;
and that
Argument
and
Inclination
are, often, as opposite, as Adversaries that refuse all Means of Reconcilement.
I will suppose you, for Instance, in the Depth of your Knowledge and Extent of your Genius, the most comprehensive of all Creatures, and the widest Discoverer of the Attributes of Infinity. But what will this do for you, my
Hammy?
You may contemplate these great Objects, as Matters with which you are no way connected. You may yet repine, and curse, in secret, the particular Dispensations of that Providence; whose general Wisdom and Propriety your Philosophy admits.
GOD, with all his Omnipotence, can, no otherwise, make his Image in our Humanity happy, than by connecting us with himself; since from Him we derive our Existence, and in Him that Existence can alone be continued. And this Connection can no Way be formed, but by our Dependence upon Him. And this Dependence can, no way be made, but, by our Confidence in Him; by feeling that, in ourselves or the World around us, there is neither Footing nor Hold to save from finking for ever; and by catching at God alone for the Support of that Existence which his Bounty bestowed.
It is this Confidence, my dear Husband, which is called by the Name of FAITH, throughout the Gospel; which strengthens all Weaknesses; which heals all Diseases; which enlightens all Blindness; which may be capable of Omnipotence, by its Connection with God; and, in his Power, can perform all Manner of Wonders. At least,
Hammy,
we ought to have such a Portion, of this Faith, as might enable us to say, to the Worst that can befal, what the three
Jewish
Captives said to the King of
Assyria; Our God is able to deliver us, and he will, in Time, deliver us from all these Afflictions. But, though he should not deliver us; we will not forsake our Hold and our Confidence in him; neither bow to any Temptation that Guilt can set up.
From the Beginning to this Day, the World has ever proved a Traitor to those who trusted in it. And O, my
Hammy,
that you would join with me, in looking only to the Principle, from whence Salvation can come to a poor and impotent Creature. For all Creatures, are poor and impotent in themselves. Even the Cherubim and Seraphim, the mightiest and most exlated of the Works of Omnipotence, would be reduced to a State of Nothingness by an Independence on their Creator.
Since God, therefore, cannot communicate Happiness to a Being, who refuses to trust in his Goodness, or to repose upon his Power; where he is peculiarly favourable, and determines to take a faithless though beloved Creature to himself; he blesses him with all Sorts of Crosses and Disappointments. He breaks, under him, all the Props of Worldly Confidence. He snatches from him the Helps, on which his Hope had laid hold. That, in the Instant of sinking, he may finally compel him to catch at his Creator; and to throw himself on the Bosom, of that infinite Benevolence, which is desirous of receiving him to everlasting Rest.
Be pleased to reflect, my Love, how affectionately solicitous (if I may venture to say so) your Saviour has been to win you to himself. He has left you, by Turns, to the Confidence, of a Variety of the most promising Establishments. As first, in the Success of your own Talents, when they acquired you as much, weekly, as might subsist you, for a Year. Again, when you had all the Right, that Man could have, to rely on the Honour, and even the Interests of the Government, for whom you were so prosperously and profitably engaged. And again, in the Rencounter and Preservation of your Father, on whom Nature, and your own Merits had, further, given you an indefeisible Title, and Foundation for Dependence. But, you may remember, my
Hammy,
that your God caught all these, and all other the like Pillars, as suddenly from under you, as though they had been instantly changed to a Void. And yet, you did not appear, at those Times, to discern, that it was no other than your heavenly Father, and your heavenly Friend, who contrived, by such Crosses, to wean you from Impotence; and to woo and to win you, from your Courtship of a Cloud, to an Affiance with essential and infinite Beauty.
I am your loving, and humble Wife, my Husband. And this is your dear and promising Infant. But, what are we further to you? You neither made us, nor can you preserve us; nor are you obliged to provide for us, beyond your weak and finite Endeavours. Commit us then to him, in whom we have our Existence; and know that, should he permit this Innocent to suffer, and my Confidence in his Mercy to fail of Support; the Retribution is instantly, and infinitely in his Hands, and his Excess will even consist in the Overflowings of his Goodness.
I love you, my
Hammy,
too much; too intensely, for my own Peace here; I will say nothing of my Interests in an eternal hereafter. And yet, my Darling, were it put to my Choice, I would rather famish, with you from Hour to Hour, and Day to Day; provided you perished content and resigned, and in a blessed Conformity to the Will of your Creator; than to enjoy, in Conjunction with you, for a Million of Ages, all that this World can bestow, till its Dissolution.
Here ended my
Arabella,
but the Sweetness of her Voice continued to vibrate in my Ear; like the Tone of a fine tuned Harp, when the Finger has ceased to touch the sounding Strings.
She had, opportunely, laid hold of the Season for making the Impression she desired; as my Mind was still affected and softened by the late Adventure. I did not indeed, yet, behold the World or its Author in the Light, by which they are represented, in the Christian System, but, even in the Eye of Philosophy, all that my Wife had said appeared reasonable, and right, and conformable to the Nature of a Being infinitely powerful, benevolent, and wise. Here was a PRINCIPLE, without whose continued Will and Operation, no one Thing, in the Universe, could either begin, or continue to exist; and as all Things in that Universe, must of necessity depend upon him, he had of necessity an equal Claim to their Confidence in him. I reflected, indeed, that he had hitherto permitted much, of Evil, to intermingle with the Beauties, both of material and moral Nature; but this I held to be well accounted for, if we considered him as a Being who chose to Work by Progression; as first, by producing a Chaos out of Nothing; and again, by producing the present System out of Chaos; and lastly, by preparing the present System for a final State of unchangeable and consummate Perfection. I, therefore held it incumbent to bear the Bruisings of Mortality, with Content and Thankfulness; as a Matter previously necessary to our future Sublimation. Even, as the coarse Earth of
China,
must be crushed, and pounded to Powder, before it can obtain that Purity and Consistence, which renders it capable of the final Polish and Beauty.
I am apt, Sir, to think, that there are very few Men, who do not, at different Times, behold the World, and its Creator, in very different Lights; according to the different Events, with which they are affected; or according to the different Tempers, which a Change of Constitution will, frequently, produce. If a Man is in Health, and finds Successes coming upon him from several Quarters; all is Summer, all is Sunshine, he sees nothing but a delightful World, and a wise and benevolent Disposer thereof. He feels no Want, he perceives nothing amiss; and therefore thinks that all is full, and that all is right. In the very next Hour, let the very same Man be but crossed in his Fortunes, or distempered in his Blood; and his Universe shall be covered with a sudden Gloom; the World, which he now beholds, shall be crowded with Objects of Wretchedness; divine Providence shall appear to him, as a daemoniac Dispensation of all kinds of Evil. And, though he may not dare to say, he will secretly think, that, if he had the Formation and ordering of Nature, he would, never have had the Malevolence to fill it with Tempests, Earth-quakes, Inclemencies; Plagues, Pestilences, Famines; Tumults, Wars, Devastations; Strifes, Violences, Murders; Griefs, Losses, Calamities; Rage, Vexations, Disappointments; Pains, Diseases, and Deaths.
Again Sir, I am apt to think, that there are very few Men, who do not depend upon this World for Happiness; as our first Parents depended on a Tree, a mere Piece of vegetable Wood, for the Conferring of Wisdom and Divinity upon them. They will tell you, indeed, that human Life is short; that even that short Term is hourly determinable, by a thousand trifling Accidents; that it is subject to a Number of unavoidable Calamities; that all its Joys are transient, and ever followed by a weighty reverse of Pain; and that, even, its best Possessions are attended by Cares that overbalance their Value. They say true, but, to what Purpose? They regret that Things are so, without learning to prize them the less; and they repine at the Miseries that are incident to Mortality, as it were, at a Distemper for which, however, they never think of providing a Remedy. They tell you, that the World is a broken Staff, yet they still lean upon it; they curse it, and, yet, cling to it as to their only Blessing. And thus, Sir, it is most likely, that, from the Beginning of Things, to their final Dissolution, each Man will be seeking, on Earth, for a Happiness, to which no other Person could ever attain. It is a Happiness for which the immortal Soul is athirst, and, though she finds the whole World no better than an empty Vessel, she is never tired of her Trials and endeavours to drink.
This however was not, altogether, the Case between the World and me, at this Period. I had been so bruised and buffeted and treated with such Severity, and Bitterness, by it; that I neither looked nor wished for any Advantage from it. I, therefore, cast about for some kinder Support; and I said, to myself, as the best Lover of earthly Happiness may say with great Truth; if there is not another State, to which this System of Things is merely preparatory; if there is not some infinite Good to be derived from this World of multiplied Evils; the Author thereof must have been some very malevolent or very petulent Being, who delights in the Misery and Anguish of others; or makes Sport of the Wretchedness of the Creatures of his Power. Neither can Angels or Men, Invention or Reason, any otherwise account for the present calamitous State of mortal Nature.
In these Sentiments, I eagerly applyed, for further Instruction, to those Writings that had brought Life and Immortality to Light. I began at the Creation, and proceeded with the deepest Attention and Delight. Again, another System of Matter and Morals, another World and another God presented themselves before me. But I shall not, here, detain you with an Account of my new Faith, as I may justly call it. For, though I always had held myself, vulgarly speaking, a Christian; I found, on Examination, that I had been wholly a Stranger to the Necessity; as well as Beauty, of the Christian Dispensation; neither had I felt a single Ray of its comforting Influence.
My Wife began now to recover of her Rhumatism, and hoped soon, again, to be able to take in Work. I determined however to be beforehand with her, if possible; for, at this Time, I regarded not how mean or humiliating my Occupation would be, provided I might earn any kind of lawful and honest Bread.
Accordingly, as I rambled in Search of such Employment, I observed a Porter, attending before the Door of a Tavern, clad in an ordinary Frock, with a Belt about his Waste, and an Apron before him. I thereupon went to
Monmouth Street,
and purchased a Uniform for the like Purpose. I then passed through several Streets, till I came to a splendid Tavern, where no Porter was in Waiting. I stepped over the Way, where I deposited my former Coat with a poor Huckster-Woman, to whom I promised some small Matter for the Trouble I gave her. I then dressed in my porterly Robes, and, applying to the chief Drawer, I promised him Part of my Earnings, provided he put me into speedy Employment.
I had not stayed long, till I was dispatched to a considerable Distance with a Letter. I was afterwards sent on a Variety of Errands and Messages; and, by the Close of the Day, I had accumulated three Shillings; six Pence whereof I gave to the Drawer. I then step'd, in high Triumph to my Friend, the Huckster Woman. I gave her two Pence; reassumed my former Garb; and left my Weeds in her Custody. I returned Home, with a Satisfaction, to which I had been a Stranger of a long Time; and I, that Night, eat heartily, talked cheerfully, and slept in Peace.
I continued this Occupation, during five successive Days, in one of which I earned to the Amount of five Shillings.
It is sure that, laying personal Pain and the social Feelings apart, human Happiness does not, in any Way, depend on the Degrees of Station or Fortune, or on any external Circumstance whatever. It is merely domestic; it is wholly imbosomed, and cannot live from Home. I was, now, engaged in one of the lowest and least lucrative Employments of Life; but a DIVINE FRIEND was at Hand, of whose Favour I was confident, I was content, I was cheerful; and I felt a Peace within that passed all the understanding I should, otherwise, have had of Happiness, though I had been in Possession of the Crown-Revenues.
Late on the fifth Night of my new Occupation, as I was on my Return, and within a few Doors of my Lodging, I was seized and assaulted by four Men, who were Porters, as I found by the Sequel. I struggled the best I could, and got one of them under me; but the Rest fell upon me, and cuffed, kicked, and bruised me, in a miserable manner. Oy, they cried, you are a Gentleman, and be damned, and yet, Thief as you are, you must steal into our Business, and glean away the few Pence, by which we get our daily Bread; but we'll cure you for carrying of Burthens, we warrant you!
They would undoubtedly have murdered me, had I not feigned myself already dead; but, observing that I lay without any Signs of Life, they made off in Haste.
I rose as well as I was able, and, holding by the Rails and Wall, got with Difficulty Home, where, crawling up Stairs, my Wife helped to undress me, and I went to Bed.
She then sent for our old Physician, who ordered me some Potions, with outward Fomentations to assuage the Contusions. I was however seized, that Night, with a violent Fever, which continued upward of three Weeks, but without any Delirium; and, within another Week, I was able to sit up, though still very weak and greatly ematiated.
Our last five Guineas, with the Fruits of my late Employment, were now nearly expended on Doctor, Drugs, and so forth. Wherefore, I found it necessary to abridge our domestic Charge as close as possible; and, having sent our Girl with a Token for my Porter's Habiliments, I gave them to her in Lieu of what remained of her Wages, and, with the Help of an additional Shilling, discharged her.
I was now able to bear the Light, and the Windows were Half opened; but, how was I shocked, on observing that my
Arabella,
and my little
Tommy,
were as pale and as much fallen away as myself. For,
Arabella
had Half starved her Infant, and almost wholly starved herself, in order to save sufficient for my Sustenance during my Illness; Yet, she bore up with a sweet and smiling Semblance; and, in her alone, was realized all, that ever I have seen, of the boasted Patience of Stoicism, or, of the Power of Christianity in effecting a
new Nature.
Within a little Time, I was once more able to walk about the Room; when, on the Day preceding that wherein our Quarter's Rent was to become due; Mrs.
Jennett
entered with a Face wherein was prefaced, whatever Insolence, Hardness of Heart, or Contempt of our wretched Situation could dictate. Mr.
Clement,
says she, if so be your Name be
Clement,
I suppose I am not to tell you that To-morrow is Quarter Day. And yet, if some People, Mr.
Clement,
can't afford to eat, I can't see how they can afford to pay Rent, Mr.
Clement;
and so, you know, 'tis ev'ry bit as comfortable to starve in Jail, as in Lodgings. But this is nothing to the Purpose. I am, myself, but a poor Woman, and no better than richer Folks. Yet poor as I am, Comparisons may be odious between some People and some People, and, then, I don't come for Charity; I come for nothing but my own, and that, you know, is the least that will satisfy any Body. If you had any one else to befriend you, but myself, you might a' been put upon the Parish before this. But, as I was saying, I can't be an only Friend and all Friends at once. And I must tell you that I hate Objects; for, I have so much Pity in my Nature, that it pains me to look at 'em; and, above all, I can't abide 'em in my own House. And so, as I told you, Mr.
Constable
will be here in the Morning; and he will show you to Lodgings that will fit you much better, and so Mr.
Clement
and Mrs.
Clement,
if so be that your Names be
Clement,
I wish ye both a mighty good Morning. And so away she went, without waiting an Answer.
As soon as she was gone;
Hammy
says
Arabella,
our kind Landlady puts me in Mind of the Wife of honest
Socrates,
whom he took for the Trial and Exercise of his Patience. Ah, how cringing was this Woman! how insolent is Servility when it attains any Power! But what, I wonder, is become of our Friends the Miss
Hodginses?
I would have sent to inquire after them; but I was petted at their Neglect of us, during our long Illness. I will step there this Minute, and borrow as much, at least, as will snatch my
Hammy
from the Fangs of this Fury.
So saying, weak as she was, she dressed herself with a cheerful Air, and going, pleasantly repeated, your Servant, Mr.
Clement,
if so be that your Name be
Clement,
I wish you a mighty good Morning.
She was not long abroad, and, on her Return, I observed a kind of heavenly Radiance that seemed to beam through her Countenance, from whence I prophecied all Manner of happy Success. But, continuing silent for some Time, and looking eagerly at me, she suddenly threw herself into my Bosom, and burst into Tears.
Ah
Hammy,
she cried; I had Hopes I was very stout; but frail Nature, in spite of Grace, confesses me a Coward. I thought I could have seen you perish, with Patience, with Delight, provided I saw a happy Immortality before you. But, now that your Sufferings are at Hand, I find them insupportable. I tremble also for your Faith, lest it should not support you under the impending Trial. Yes,
Hammy,
all is over. All is finished, my Love, and the Hand of our God is in it. Our dear Miss
Hodginses,
were not to blame; the Eldest died suddenly, since we saw them; and the Youngest is with a distant Relation in the Countryâª We have Nothing, further to hope, neither to fear from this World. Our God has shut us out by every Door; and will neither permit the Friendship, the Humanity, or Charity of others, neither our own Industry or Ingenuity to yield us a Morsel of Bread; to convince us that we are his; and that all Things are his; that when he openeth his Hand, there is Plenty on every Side, but, when he pleaseth to shut, there is no Resource. What say you then, my Husband? Are you willing to run this last short Course? The Prize is glorious, unspeakable, and lies within a very few Paces of your Grasp. You must run it, my Husband, and your Repugnance would but serve to make it insufferable. But Patience and Courage would give you Strength to endure; and, a little further Conformity to the Will of our Disposer, would turn all the Bitterness into Delight. Our Time is done, our Task is finish'd; we are already brought to Nothing, that our all may be in God.
Yes, I answered, it is evident from a Chain of successive Proofs. I see the Hand of God in all that concerns us; and I am pleased with any Instances of his Notice and Attention, whatever his final Purpose may be. I will no longer struggle with his Omnipotence; nor make my Ignorance a sounding-Line for his unbottomed Wisdom. If, to see you and our little Innocent thus famishing by the Hour; if, in contemplating your Wants and imagining your Pains, I feel an Anguish, above what Death can give. Why, let it be; rend Heart into a thousand Pieces! A Period must at length be put to our Sufferings; and all, beyond, shall be Peace, or what God pleases. But, do you
Arabella,
do you lead the Way, my Patroness, my Director! I will endeavour to keep the Brightness of your Example in View; that, neither here, nor hereafter, I may lose Sight of her, without whom, here or hereafter, I think I cannot be happy.
About Nine, the next Morning, our Landlady entered, followed by two Constables and two Appraisers. Thus authorized, as she imagined, the first Thing she did was to search our Pockets for Money, but, without Effect; as we had expended our last Penny, the Day before, for Bread. She, however, found my Wife's Case of Scissars and other Implements for her Business; and, gathering up our Boxes, Linen, Handkerchiefs, and a Variety of Articles, which we never had a Notion of converting into Money, she laid them all before the Appraisers, who, on frequent Consultation, valued the same to four Pounds nine Shillings, my Wife's Gown included, being nine and thirty Shillings more than we owed. But this our honest Landlady, very prudently observed was scarce sufficient for Costs, and other Damages, which she had suffered or might have suffered, or might yet suffer on our Accounts.
Thus, we were turned out, almost naked, to the Mercy of the Elements; O, how deeply degraded below the Birds of the Air, the Beasts of the Forest, or even the Worms of the Sod, who rightfully claim Sustenance from the Earth whereof they were bred; and have some Hole apart, whereto they may creep for Shelter.
The World indeed lay before us. It was wide and all sufficient; and yet, nothing to our Purpose. We had neither Act or Part, Conern or Interest therein. It was to us, as a Harbour to Tempest-beaten Mariners, who are shut out and driven thence, on Suspicion of the Plague.
All hopeless, weak, and faint, we took our Way, we knew not whither; without Home wherto we might travel, or Point whereto we might steer. We could think of no one living, who would receive or acknowledge us; and we seemed to have no Way, save that of hastening, as fast as we could, from the Presence of Mankind.
Slow and tottering, as we went, my Wife and I carried our little
Tommy,
by Turns, and, in the smoother Places, he walked with the Help of our Hands. Thus, with much Toil and Fatigue, we got out of
London,
and reposed ourselves on a Bank that lay a little off the Causeway. Here, we found ourselves greatly distressed with Thirst, and, getting up again, we made toward a small Hut that stood beside the Road, where they had the Charity to treat us with a Draught of cold Water. With this we were wonderfully refreshed and recruited; and, putting on again,
Hammy,
says my
Arabella,
no Conqueror, on his triumphal Entry into
Rome,
ever exulted as I do in your Fortitude, this Day. And, what signifies it, now, that it comes to the Test? It is but to travel, my Love, till we can travel no further; and then, we drop, fit and ready, and ripe for Eternity. O, how sweet it is to perish with a Patience that is pleased; how fearful, how horrible, to die struggling and kicking against the Almighty.
As we went gently along, still mutually supporting and exhorting Each-other; I applyed for Alms, from Time to Time, to a Number of Passengers; but, my Voice and Address were so feebly importunate, or their Attention was so engaged on distant and different Matters, that my Oratory returned as empty as it set out.
At length I met a poor Beggarman, with a Wife and seven Children following in a Train. I looked at him wistfully, and having civily saluted him, I entreated some little Matter, from his Bag or his Can, to keep my Infant from perishing on the Highway. God's Mercy, Master! says the charitable Mendicant, I am very sorry to see any Body poorer than myself; but, the Truth is that I have travelled a great Way, and have eat and drunk all, with a Pox, except this last two Pence Half-penny; here it is, Master, God's Blessing go along with it, I grieve, and shall grieve, that it is not two Pounds for your Sake.
In Expectation of the Refreshment we should derive from this Supply, we kept on at a creeping Pace, till we came to a little Ale House, that stands about Half a Mile from this Town. There we entered, and called for a Penny worth of Bread and a Pint of Drink, with some Milk for the Child. While we sat to repose ourselves, the poor Man of the House, having eyed me with a kind of earnest Compassion, you look, said he, to be in much Trouble; but, if your Trouble is of a kind that may be cured, there is one Mr.
Fenton
at Hand, whom God has placed in this Country, as the Sun in Heaven, to give Comfort to all within his Reach.
My Heart revived within me, at these Tidings, and was further prophetic of some happy Revolution. Having finished our Pint, and laid up the Remainder of our Bread in Store, we discharged our Reckoning, and set out on our last Stage.
The Prospect of speedy Relief, and the Possibility that it might not arrive too late, gave us Spirits beyond our Powers, and we pushed on till we came nearly opposite to this House, though we did not then know to whom it belonged. Here, slackening our Pace, we found ourselves growing extremely sick; whether it was, that we were overpowered, by the late Nourishment we had taken, or by a Toil and Fatigue that surpassed our Abilities.
Hammy,
said my
Arabella,
God be praised! it is done, it is finished. I die, my
Hammy,
but I would not die within the Gaze of public Passengers. Help me into the Field, if you are able, my Love. I have no further Use for Charity, now, save that of laying my Limbs, with Decency, in the Ground.
She spoke, nor had I the Power to answer. But, overcome as I was by Sickness and Anguish, I exerted myself to help her through the Turnstile; and sitting down on the Sod, I laid her Head in my Lap, where she fainted away. And there we remained in the Situation, in which your Charity found us.
Your Story of
Clement,
my Friend, is truely interesting, and in some Passages may be edifying also. I have only to observe that it is too long for an Episode, and that the Character of your Heroine Milliner is constrained and unnatural; it is elevated above the Fortitude and Virtues of Man himself, but quite out of the Sight and Soaring of any of her weak and silly Sex. Had she been a Princess, and Empress, she could not have figured, in your History, with greater Dignity.
There lay my Error, Sir, unhappily, I did not reflect that Royalty or Station were necessary to Christian Resignation and Lowliness of Temper.
Your Drollery is more provoking than argumentative, I must tell you, Sir. I was not speaking of the Lowliness, but of the Fortitude of your
Arabella;
indeed it exceeds every Thing that I have met in Romance. Such an Exaltation of female Character is of evil Influence among the Sex; each Woman will be apt to arrogate some of the Merit to herself; their Vanity will be inflated, and they will rise, on the Stilts of
Arabella,
to a presumptuous Level with their natural Lords and Masters. Women, unquestionably, have their becoming Qualities; in the Bedchamber, Kitchen, and Nursery, they are useful to Man; but, beyond these, my Friend, they are quite out of the Element of Nature and Common-Sense.
I have sadly mistaken this whole Affair, it seems, I actually apprehended that Woman might be admitted as a Companion to Man, and was intended, occasionally, to soften his Temper and polish his Manners. They have, at Times, formed Governors, Legislators, and Heroes. The great
Pericles
derived all the Powers of his Oratory, and the Elegance of his Taste from the Example and Instructions of the lovely
Aspasia;
and the
Grachi
also caught the Spirit of their Eloquence, and the Fire of their Patriotism, from their Mother
Cornelia.
Pshaw, the Women you have mentioned were but as single Luminaries, perhaps One in many Centuries, who shot away and shone out of their appointed Spheres.
Mayhap, I can produce still better Authority to prove to you, my Friend, that Woman was not merely intended to form and instruct us, to soften and polish the Rudeness of our Mass; she was also appointed to native Empire and Dominion over Man.
By all Means, my dear Sir, I am quite impatient to be instructed in the Policies and Constitution of this your petticoat Government.
Whenever you shall be pleased to turn over to the third Chapter of the first Book of the Prophet
Esdras,
you will, there find it written to the following Purpose.
In the Reign of
Darius Hystaspes,
Successor to the
Grand Cyrus,
(whom you may have read of in Romance)
Darius
made a great Feast to all his Princes and Nobles, chief Captains, and Governors of his hundred and twenty seven Provinces.
And, at the Feast, three young and princely Geniuses arose, and offered to dispute for Pre-eminence before the great Assembly. And the Question turned on, what was STRONGEST? and the first said WINE is strongest, and the second said the KING is strongest, and the third said WOMAN is strongest. And then, the Advocate for the Bottle thus began.
O ye Princes! bear me Testimony, that Wine gives and takes away according to its Mightiness. It takes away the Strength and Capacities of Nature, and gives Powers, Virtues and Talents of its own Acquiring.
It trips up the Wrestler, and lays a Giant low; and bears the Feeble and the Fearful into the Midst of the Battle.
Wine is an Opener of Hearts and a Revealer of Secrets. It raises Hope into Certainty, and gives Jollity and Enjoyment in exchange for Care.
It unfolds the Purse of the Usurer, and enriches the needy; and frees the Prisoner from his Chain, and the Debtor from his Obligation.
It levels the Rich and the Poor, the High and the Low, the King and the Clown to one Temper and Condition. It can set Companions, Friends, and Brothers at Variance; and cause Rivals, Competitors, and Enemies to embrace.
Wine enlarges the narrow Heart, and thaws the frozen Understanding; it instructs the Ignorant in Arts, and to the Silent and Illiterate gives Phrase and Elocution.
It can elevate the Peasant from a Cottage to a Throne; for he who is drunk is as great as an Emperor.
O ye Princes! what in Nature can be stronger than that, by which all the Powers of Nature are inverted or surpassed?
And having so spoken, he held his Peace.
Then arose the Advocate for Kingly Dominion, and, waving his Hand, thus addressed the Assembly.
O Princes! how short and sickly is the Influence of Wine, it passes away as a Vapour at the Dawning; we recollect it with Disgust, or remember nothing thereof. But all Power, that is stable or durable, subsists in Majesty.
The King is but one Man among a hundred and twenty seven Nations of Men; yet he overseeth, connects, and governs the Whole. His are the Honours, Counsels, and Strength of all his People.
The Sun, who from on high looketh down on the wide World, beholdeth not at once the Extent of our King's Dominion. He must travel for the Prospect through the blue Expanse of Heaven, and leave the western Nations involved in Night, when his Beam begins to rise on their Fellow-Subjects in the Orient.
For the King they plow and they sow, they reap and plant Vineyards. For him the Stars shine and shed Influences upon Earth, and the Seasons change to yield our Monarch Variety of Productions. For him the Fruits ripen, the Shrubs drop their Balm, and the Blossoms breathe their Odours; all Winds blow Incense to him, and the four Quarters of the World pay him Tribute Day by Day.
If he bids to build they build; and if he bids to lay waste the Nations are made desolate. Bliss and Bane, Life and Death, Ruin and Restoration are in the Breath of his Lips.
If he cries, War! it is War; the Banners of Blood are let loose to the Wind, and the Sound of the Clarion kindles all Men to Battle. His Hosts cloath themselves in Harness, and range in terrible Array; and his Horses begin to neigh and tear up the Ground, and his Chariots to roll as distant Thunders. They move and cover the Earth wide as the Eye can reach. The Forests are laid flat, the Mountains shake beneath them, and neither the Rocks nor Rivers impede the March of his Armies. They trample into Dust the Fruits of the Field, and the Labours of the Industrious; Houses, Vineyards, and standing-Corn, the Villages, and Towns smoke and flame on every Side.
Yet none ask the King, wherefore is Peace, or wherefore is War? For he stands exalted on Ruin, and is glorified in Destruction; his Word is the Bolt of irresistible Power, and his Will makes the Appointment and Sanctitude of Law.
And having so said, he sat down amid the Applauses of the whole Assembly.
Lastly, slow and bashful, arose the young Advocate for the FAIR, and bowing thrice around, let his Words go forth as the breathing of soft Music.
Great, O Princes! great is the Strength of WINE, and much greater the Strength and Glory of MAJESTY. But yet there is a POWER, that tempers and moderates, to which Rulers themselves pay delightful Obedience.
Man is as the rough and crude Element of Earth, unmollified by the Fluidity of Water and Light. Heaven therefore sent WOMAN, gentle, bright and beauteous Woman, to sooth, form and illumine the Rudeness of his Mass.
She comes upon Man, in the Meekness of Water, and in the Brightness of the Morning-Beam; she imperceptibly infuses Love and Delight into him, and bids his Affections go forth upon Kindred and Country.
The Planter who planted the Vineyard, and the Vintner who pressed the Grape were born of Woman; and by Woman alone, the Subject and the Sovereign receive Existence, with all that can make Existence advantageous or desirable.
She brings Man forth in his Weakness, and she brings him up to his Strength; he is fostered in her Bosom, he is nourished with her Substance, and he imbibes into his Being the Sweetness of Humanity with the Milk of his Mother.
Without Woman, where would be Father or where would be Child? where the Relations, Endearments and Connections of Kindred, the Charities that bind the wide World together into one inclusive Family, the great BROTHERHOOD OF MAN?
She comes not against you, in the Hostility of Weapons, or Fearfulness of Power. She comes in the Comfort and mild Light of Beauty; she looks abashed and takes you Captive; she trembles and you obey. Yet her's is the surest of all Signories on Earth; for her Dominion is sweet, and our Subjection is voluntary, and a Freedom from her Yoke is what no Man could bear.
There are no Forms of human Government that can exempt us from her Sway, no System of Laws that can exclude her Authority. Do we not study, toil, and sweat, and go forth in the Darkness, and put our Face to every Danger, to win and bring home Treasure and Ornaments to our Love? even the Robbers and savage Spoilers of Mankind grow tame to the civilizing Prerogative of Beauty.
If Men seek Peace, it is to live in kindly Society with Woman; and if they seek War, it is to please her with the Report and Renown of their Valour.
Even the Highest, the Mightiest, the Lord of Lords and King of Kings is caught in the fascinating Net of his
Apame.
I saw her seated by his Side; she took the Crown from his Head, and gave it new Lustre by the Beauty of her Brow and the Brightness of her Tresses. I saw her chide him in her Playfulness, and strike him in her Petulance; yet he pressed the Hand of her pleasing Presumption to his Lips; he gazed fondly and fixedly on her; if she laughed he laughed also, but if she affected Displeasure, he spoke and looked Submission; and was fain to plead and sue for Reconcilement.
Here ended the blooming Orator. The Monarch rose from his Throne and gave loud Applause, and the Roofs resounded with the Shouts and Acclamations of the Assembly.
Wherefore it was decreed,
by the Laws of the Medes and Persians,
that female Beauty ought to govern the World in Meekness, and that Men owed thereunto a voluntary Obedience.
Pray, my good Sir, this same
Esdras,
is it among the Canonical Books?
I can't affirm that it is. But, it is held as authentic, and very sacred, I assure you.
It is a pity that your System of female Government should be apocryphal. But, since you have not proved their Dominion to be
jure divino;
permit me to retain my Faith, and to go on with my Story.
CHAP. IX.
MR. CLEMENT, said Mr.
Fenton,
I am singularly obliged and instructed by your Story. The Incidents of your Life have been very extraordinary, and have been evidently accompanied by the Controul and Attention of a peculiar Providence. The same Providence is, undoubtedly, with, and over all his Works; though we are not willing to admit him in, what we call, common Occurrences, and which, we think, we can account for, without his Interposition. But, in the Passages of your Story, we see Omnipotence walking along with you, Step for Step; by sudden Successes, by Calamities as sudden, compelling you to attend to Him; wrenching every other Prop and Support from your Dependence, shutting every other Prospect and Resource from your Sight; and, never forsaking you, in Weal or in Woe, till he had fully convinced you of his Fellowship and Regard, and had reconciled you to the bitterest of the Dispensations of your Creator.
Your Story, my dear Friend, has been, generally, conversant in middle, or low Life; and I observe that there is scarce a Circumstance, in it, which might not have happened to any Body, on any Day of the Year. And yet, in the Whole, I find a Chain of more surprising and affecting Events, than I have met with, in History, or even in Romance.
God, I see, has made use of very severe Methods, to call you, and as I may say, to compel you to come in. But, do you think, Mr.
Clement,
that any Methods, less severe, would have been equally effectual? You must admit they would not. And, this demonstrates to me the Difficulty, and almost the Impossibility, of diverting any Man from that Habit of thinking and acting, which he contracts from the People with whom he is daily conversant. In a World of Saints, a Sinner must be a Devil; but, in a World of Sinners, the Man, who has Grace to deviate, must be a Saint indeed.
Had I been in your Situation, on the Day in which you say my Charity relieved you; I should have thought myself very little beholden to that Person, who would have plucked me back from my opening Paradise, into a World of whose Woes I had been so justly weary. No, no, my Friend, I did you and your
Arabella
the worst Office, as I think, that ye will ever receive. It was not to you that God intended any Benefit, by restoring you to Life; it was to those, and I hope they are many in Number; who are to have the Advantage of your Example and Instructions. It is an Advantage of which I, also, propose to avail myself; and I request you, in Behalf of my little
Harry
in particular, to accept your first Retainer from our Hands.
So saying, Mr.
Fenton
carelessly slid a Purse of a hundred Guineas into
Clements
's Coat Pocket, and, hastily calling to know if Supper was ready, left the Room without Ceremony.
In about an Hour the Cloth was laid, and Mr.
Fenton
ordered his Family to be called together. He had seldom seen
Arabella,
and never had noticed her, for fear of adding to that Confusion with which he saw her oppressed at their first Meeting. But now his Senses were all open and alive for Observation, and, on her Entrance, he saluted her, as he would have received and saluted a descending Seraph.
She had not yet recovered her Flesh or her Complexion; and Mr.
Fenton,
for some Time looked at her, in vain, to discover those striking and irresistible Beauties, to which Lust had fallen a Victim, by which Friendship had been seduced, and to which a whole People had borne joint Testimony, by a Voucher of public Prostration and Applause. But, of all that Mr.
Fenton
had previously thought necessary for producing such extraordinary and astonishing Effects; he saw nothing but a Sentiment of Lowliness, throughout; a something, in Face, in Voice, and in Motion, that was lovely, for no other Reason, that He could find, but for its being quite impossible that it should not be beloved.
When they had sat down to Table, and eat, and chatted awhile on indifferent Matters; Dada, says
Harry,
sure Mrs.
Clement
is a greater Scholar than Mr.
Vindex;
and she taught me a latin Lesson to Day; and I would rather learn five Lessons from her than one from him; for she can't look so cross at me as Mr.
Vindex,
do you think she can, Dada? No,
Harry,
I think not, says Mr.
Fenton;
if she can find in her Heart to be cross, she can't find it in her Face, and so we shall know nothing of the Matter. Well, well, Dada, says
Harry,
for all that, I'm sure she can't find in her Heart to whip Half so hard, and so I don't repent of my Bargain. What Bargain,
Harry?
Why, says
Harry,
you must know that she is to be my Tutor, and I am to pay her at the rate of twenty Kisses a Day. But, indeed, it is not an honest Bargain, as you shall hear, poor Mrs.
Clement
has cheated herself most sadly; for every Kiss I give her, I take Two away; and they are the sweetest Kisses you ever got in your Life.
Here poor
Arabella
was put, sadly, to the Blush, though she could not help joining in the Laugh of the Company.
Harry,
says Mr.
Fenton,
you talk, as feelingly of Kisses, as if you had been the Son and Heir of one
Secundus,
who wrote a very ingenious Treatise on the Subject. But, pray Mrs.
Clement,
do you understand the Languages? Ah, Sir, said
Arabella,
again blushing, I fear that my young Lover has brought me into a sad Scrape. I know nothing indeed, Sir, that does not serve to put me in mind of my own Ignorance. Ah, what a Boast is there, replied Mr.
Fenton,
the Wisdom of
Solomon,
and all subsequent Philosophers fall infinitely short of such an Extent of Knowledge. But, tell me,
Hammel,
continued Mr.
Fenton,
does your
Arabella
understand the
Latin
and
Greek
Languages? Not that ever I knew of, I do assure you, Sir, said
Clement;
and, yet, I thought I had discovered the Limits of her Talents; though I despaired of ever reaching the Extent of her Virtues.
Hammy, Hammy,
said
Arabella,
would you banish me from a Table, where Conversation makes the Feast, and Mr.
Fenton
is a Speaker? But, Sir, since my Desire of instructing this your little
Harry,
the dearest and loveliest of all human Creatures, has brought me to the Shame of betraying a foolish Smattering in such Matters, I will tell you how it happened.
My dear good Father was a Clergyman, and, as his Living was very small, he derived his principal Income from Boarding, and Instructing the Children of the neighbouring Gentlemen. As I was his only Child, he loved me to a faulty Excess, and hardly ever suffered me to be out of his Sight. I used therefore to Work at my Sampler, in his School-Room; and, the frequent Repetitions, which the Boys made of their Lessons, insensibly and involuntarily forced themselves upon my Memory. I was, by Degrees, infected with the Desire of knowing something of what engaged the whole Attention of all about me. The Floor and the Windows were, often, spread with Books, which I took up and perused in private at my Pleasure. And, at length, I was applied to, by most of the Scholars, as well for my Assistance in framing their Exercises, as for my powerful Mediation in saving them from the Lash.
My Error, in thus wandering from the Sphere of my Sex, will appear, as I hope, the more excusable; when I assure you, Sir, that, from the Moment I entered the World with my dear deceased Aunt, I never looked into one of those my favourite Authors; though I still retain many of the Passages in them. But, above all, I shall never forget the Indiscretion of
Homer,
in his Character of
Hector,
the great Enemy of
Greece.
The Poet appears to make a mighty Parade of the Power, the Valour, and Virtue of his Countrymen. He further gives them the whole Merit and Justice of the Cause; and he calls upon Gods and Men, in their Favour, for the Righting and Reformation of Iniquity and Offence. But, does he give you the sensible and odious Instances of this Iniquity on the Part of the Adversary? By no Means, as I take it. He sums up all
Troy,
and even all
Asia,
in the Character and Prowess of a single Man. On the Part of the
Trojans,
on the Side of the Delinquents, you see nothing but
Hector,
you hear of nothing but
Hector.
And again, what do you hear of him, or what do you see of him? Even all that is admirable; all that is amiable; whatever can be, severally, culled and collected, from the Worth and the Sweetnesses of human-Nature; in his Submissions to his King, in his Attachments to his Country, in his filial Affections, in his conjugal Delicacies, in his paternal Fears and Feelings, in his Ardour for his Friends, in his Humanity to his Enemies, and, even in his Piety to the Gods that he worshipped (no Deduction from his Courage according to ancient Arithmetic) I should be glad, I say, to know in what History, true or feigned, I might find his Fellow.
How injudiciously, then, did this Author connect an iniquitous Cause with so righteous a Person; to whom no one living could take Exception; and, with whom no one living could cordially be at Variance. In favour therefore of
Hector,
you wish well to the Abettors of the Ravishers of
Helen.
And, in Favour of
Hector,
you are, almost, tempted to wish ill to those generous Patriots, who, at the Risk of their Honours, their Fortunes, and their Lives, came to vindicate the undoubted Rights of their Country; and consequently the Rights of all Mankind. --But --but --Is there no one so friendly, here, as to interrupt me, before all my Folly is let out?
You have no such Friend here, I assure you, Madam, said Mr.
Fenton.
Well, well, Gentlemen, said
Arabella,
blushing deeper than before, I leave ye to laugh away; and I would stay, and laugh with ye with all my Heart, at any Expense but that of female Learning, ye know. And so saying, up she started, and away she would have flown; but Mr.
Fenton
got between her and the Door.
Mrs.
Clement,
Mrs.
Clement,
said he, would you serve us so? Do but think, what Sort of a World this would be without a Woman; and then think what a Figure this Hum-drum
Hammy,
of yours, and I should make without you. So saying, he took her Hand and replaced her in her Chair. But why, continued he, why all this Blushing, my dear Mrs.
Clement?
indeed my Child it is a Compliment that we cannot deserve.
Ah, Sir, cried Mrs.
Clement,
it is a Compliment which I would very gladly spare, if I could help it. But, I must be a very guilty Body to be sure; and my Faults I find must be very much my Enemies, when they are ready to fly in my Face, every Moment.
Why, Mrs.
Clement,
said Mr.
Fenton,
do you hold Blushing to be any Evidence of Guilt? Certainly, Sir, said
Arabella,
it can be nothing but a Consciousness of somewhat amiss, that ought to give Shame to any sensible Person. Mr. Serjeant
Clement,
cried Mr.
Fenton,
pray, what is your judgement on the Case in Hand?
In truth, Sir, said
Clement,
it is a Case to which I am not prepared to plead. I have, indeed, heard many and various Opinions on the Subject, though generally coinciding with that of my
Arabella.
And, more particularly, in Conversations of ribald Entendre, I have heard it affirmed, that the Blushing of a Woman is a sure Proof of her understanding much more than became her.
Hold there, cried Mr.
Fenton,
the mere understanding of Good or Evil, can no more be a Fault in the Creature than in the Creator, the Essence of Guilt bears no Reference to Knowledge, but consists in the Approbation of Evil alone. A Woman therefore, who blushes at what she disapproves, blushes not for herself, but for the Faults of her rude and ill-mannered Company, who have not the Grace to blush for themselves.
When I speak here of Blushing; I would not be understood, by any Means, to include the Flushings of Desire, or the Reddenings of Anger, or any such like turbulent and irregular Emotions. I mean no other than that ready Expression of Shame, which, as our
Arabella
sweetly hinted just now, arises from an Apprehension of something being amiss in ourselves, or others. But who or what is it that apprehends, in this Case? Is it Guilt that is afraid or ashamed of Guilt? No surely. It is Virtue, alone, that can fear or be ashamed of the Neighbourhood of its Adversary.
I will take an Instance from a Person, who is actually guilty of something very enormous, and who blushes, on his being questioned or suspected of the Transgression. His blushing here demonstrates his Sensibility; and his Sensibility demonstrates some Principle within him, that disapproved and reproached him for what he had committed. And so long as this Spark or Principle remains unquenched in the Bosom; so long as the wicked themselves can feel Compunction and be ashamed of wickedness; so long their Recovery is not to be despaired of.
It is therefore from the Fountain of Virtue, alone, that this Flush of Shamefacedness can possibly flow. And a Delicacy of Compunction, on such Occasions, is as a sensitive Plant of Divinity in the Soul, that feels, shrinks, and is alarmed on the slightest Apprehension of approaching Evil.
Well, Sir, said
Arabella,
allowing all that you have advanced in Behalf of Blushers, (and that is doing them more Favour than I fear they deserve) can it amount to more than this, that, however faulty they may be, they still have Goodness enough to acknowledge their Guilt, or in other Words, that they have the Justice to be ashamed of themselves?
Yes, Madam, said Mr.
Fenton,
it amounts to much more, and you know that it does. But you are a wicked little Sophister, and deserve to be punished, by our yielding to you the Cause that you have undertaken against yourself.
When I observed that nothing, but Virtue, could undesignedly express a Disapprobation of Vice; I ought further to have observed that, the greater and the purer, the more excellent and more vivid that this Virtue is, the more apt it will be to take Alarm, at the bare Apprehension of having said or done, or of being suspected to have said, or done, or thought of any thing amiss, or contrary to its own Nature.
As far as a guilty Person loves and is reconciled to Guilt, it becomes a Part of himself, and he cannot blush at it. But Goodness will blush in a Closet, in a desert, in Darkness, on fearing it was in Danger to have said or done any Thing unbecoming or disgustful to its own Sensibilities. For a delicate Virtue is, like a delicate Chastity, that will blush to have been seen, or, even suspected to have been seen within the Suburbs of Drury.
But again, where such a delicate Virtue is accompanied by Lowliness, there needs not any Thing amiss, nor the slightest Apprehension of any Thing amiss, to excite this sweet Confusion in the Soul and in the Countenance. Humility will blush to be found in the Presence of those whom it reveres; it will blush to be thought of, either too meanly or too highly, by those whose favourable Opinion it wishes to merit; and I once knew a Lady blush, for being detected of Accomplishments that would have been Matter of Pride and Boasting to any other Woman.
This graceful Effusion of a virtuous and humble Heart is, as I once hinted, the highest and, generally, the most grateful Compliment that a Person can pay to the Company; as it is an Expression of Deference, and a comparative Acknowledgment of superior Merit. But, it is more peculiarly amiable in your Sex, Mrs.
Clement;
it is that
Shamefacedness,
so grateful to God and Man, and which, in Scripture, is called the most becoming Cloathing, and best Ornament of a Woman.
However, my dear Child, as this Emotion is generally attended with some little Matter of Pain; the present Company are too much your Friends, to receive any kind of Pleasure from a Compliment as unmerited, as it is wholly unnecessary. And, in Truth, there is but one Thing, that I can think of, for which Mrs.
Clement
ought to blush.
Pray, Sir, don't hold me in Pain, what is it, I beseech you? It is for being a Reproach almost to her whole Sex.
Ah, Sir, cried
Arabella,
rising, smiling, and blushing, and curtsying down to the Ground; excuse me if I don't stay to hear myself so abused; and, turning, away she swam and disappeared in an Instant.
As soon as she was gone,
Clement
took out his Purse of a hundred Guineas, and, pray Sir, said he, what shall I do with all this Money? O, as for that Matter, said Mr.
Fenton,
I know People, not half so ingenious as you are, who could quickly contrive to get rid of a much larger Sum. Lay it out in decent Cloathing for yourself and your
Arabella,
and I will find some way to have you reimbursed. In short,
Hammel,
I can't think of parting with you, if my Fortune may serve for a sufficient Cement. I will pay you two hundred Guineas yearly, while you stay with me; and I will settle on you, one thousand Pounds, in case of my Mortality, to put you into some little Station of Independence.
Sir, Sir, cried
Clement,
hesitatingly, you oppress me, you --Hush, hush, said Mr.
Fenton,
putting his Hand to his Mouth, no Compliments, my dear Friend. It is not your Thanks but your Services that I want; and you may readily make them more than an Equivalent to such Matters. I value the Instilling of a single Principle of Goodness or Honour, into the Mind of my dear
Harry,
beyond all the Wealth that the Indies can remit. Ah,
Hammel,
why wasn't't that Brat of yours a Girl, instead of a Boy? She might one Day have been the Wife of my precious
Harry;
and I should then have had some of the Breed of this wonderful
Arabella.
But,
Hammy,
continued Mr.
Fenton,
I would not have you, through any Zeal, or Attachment to me, think of pushing my Boy into Learning or the Languages, beyond his own Pleasure. Neither would I have you oppress or perplex his infant Mind, with the deep or mysterious Parts of our holy Religion. First, be it your Care to instruct him in Morality; and let the Law precede the Gospel, for such was the Education which God appointed for the World. Give him, by familiar and historical Instances, an early Impression of the shortness of human Life, and of the Nature of the World in which he is placed. Let him learn, from this Day forward, to distinguish between natural and imaginary Wants; and, that nothing is estimable or ought to be desirable, but so far as it is necessary, or useful to Man. Instruct my Darling, daily and hourly, if possible, in a Preference of Manners and Things that bear an intrinsic Value, to those that receive their Value and Currency from the arbitrary and fickle Stamp of Fashion. Shew him also, my
Hammel,
that the same Toils and Sufferings; the same Poverty and Pain, from which People now fly as they would from a Plague, were once the Desire of Heroes and the Fashion of Nations. And, that Thousands of Patriots, of Captains, and Philosophers, through a Love of their Country, or of Glory, of Applause during Life or Distinction after Death, have rejected Wealth and Pleasure, embraced Want and Hardship; and suffered more, from a voluntary Mortification and Self-denial, than our Church seems to require in these Days, for the Conquest of a sensual World into which we are fallen, and for entitling us to a Crown in the Kingdom of Eternity.
So saying, Mr.
Fenton
got up from Table, and observing that it was late, wished
Clement
a good Night.
Our Hero was now eight Years of Age; and weekly, and daily, continued to be exercised, in Feats of bodily Prowess and Agility; and in Acts of mental Benevolence, and Service to Mankind.
Mr.
Fenton
had, already, provided his Favourite with a Dancing-Master, the most approved for Skill in his Profession; as also, with a noted Fencing-Master, who further taught him the noble Sciences of the Cudgel and Quarter-Staff. He was now on the Search for the most distinguished Champion of the
Bear-Garden,
in order to accomplish our Hero in the Mysteries of Bruising, of Wrestling, and of Tripping; and having, in a short Time, procured the Person desired; he purchased for his
Harry
a small but beautiful Spanish Jennett that was perfectly dressed, as they call it, or rid to the Manage; and, once in every Week or Fortnight, he accompanied his Darling to the Riding-House in
Islington,
where he saw him instructed in all the Arts and Elegancies of Horsemanship.
Thus,
Harry
had his little Hands as full of Business as they could hold. But he was, naturally, of an active and vivid Disposition; and Time, unemployed, lay upon him as the heaviest and most irksome of all Burdens. He, therefore, proceeded from his Book to his Exercises, and from one Exercise to another, as an Epicure does among a number of Dishes; where the Variety of the Seasoning excites in him a new Appetite to Each.
Within a few Weeks after the late Dissertation upon Blushing, the same Company being present and Dinner removed;
Harry,
says Mr.
Fenton,
tell me which of the Two is the Richest, the Man who wants least, or the Man who has most? Let me think, Dada, says
Harry
--Why, sure, they are the same Thing; aren't they, Dada? By no Means, my Darling, cried Mr.
Fenton.
There lived two famous Men, at the same Time, the one was called
Diogenes,
and the other
Alexander. Diogenes
refused to accept of any worldly Goods, save one wooden Cup to carry Water to his Mouth; but, when he found that he could drink, by lying down and putting his Mouth to the Stream, he threw his Cup away as a Thing that he did not want.
Alexander,
on the other Side, was a great Conqueror. And, when he had conquered and got Possession of all the World, he fell a crying because there was not a hundred more such Worlds for him to conquer. Now, which of these two was the richest, do you think?
O Dada, exclaimed
Harry, Diogenes
to be sure,
Diogenes
to be sure. He who wants nothing is the richest Man in the World.
Diogenes,
Dada, was richer than
Alexander
by a hundred Worlds.
Very true, my Love, rejoined Mr.
Fenton. Alexander
had a whole World more than
Diogenes
wanted, and yet desired a hundred Worlds more than he had. Now, as no Man will allow that he wants what he does not desire, and all affirm that they want whatsoever they do desire, Desires and Wants are generally accounted as one and the same Thing. And yet, my
Harry,
there is a Thing, of which it may be said, that the more we desire it the less we want it, and that the less we desire of it the greater is our Want.
What in the World can that be, Dada? --It is
Goodness,
my Love. Well, says
Harry,
I will not puzzle my Brains about nice Matters. All I know is, that no Man has more Goodness than he wants, except it be yourself. I don't talk of Women, for I believe Mrs.
Clement,
here, is very good; pray look in her Face, Dada, don't you think she is very good?
I see,
Harry,
said Mr.
Fenton,
that young as you are, you are a perfect Physiognomist. Why, pray Sir, said
Arabella,
is it, in earnest, your Opinion, that the Character of Mind or Manners, may, in any Measure, be gathered from the Form of the Countenance? Is not the World filled with Stories of the Deceit and Treachery of such false Appearances? You remember how
Horace
says that a prudent Mariner puts no Trust in the Gildings or Paintings of a Ship; such superficial Glossings, as one might think, ought, rather, to be suspected of an Intention to conceal the Rottenness of the Timber. And then, the Passage of the famous Physiognomists, at
Athens,
so often quoted as a Proof of Capacity and Knowledge in this Way, proves wholly the Reverse, as I take it; their judgement of
Socrates
is opposite to Truth in every Instance; they pronounce him the most debauched, irascible, and malicious of Men; and it is a very poor Apology that
Socrates
makes for their Ignorance, when he affirms that he was, by Birth, the very Person they deemed him, but that Philosophy had given him a new Nature; for if Education can change the Heart, without changing the Countenance, how can we form any Conjecture of the one by the other?
Though I insist, Mrs.
Clement,
that you are wrong in your Thesis, replied Mr.
Fenton,
I admit that you are perfectly just in your Inference. For, if a Change of Mind or Manners can make no Change in the Aspect, the whole Science of Physiognomy must fall to the Ground. I therefore take this Passage, relating to
Socrates,
to be a mere Fiction; and I affirm that neither Philosophy, nor Christianity, can make a new Heart or a new Nature in Man, without making a suitable Alteration in his Visage.
As the Heavens are made expressive of the Glory of God, though frequently overcast with Clouds and Tempest, and sometimes breaking forth in Thunders that terrify, and Lightenings that blast; so, the general Tenour of a human Countenance is made expressive of the Nature of the Soul that lives within; and, to which it is ordained an involuntary Interpreter.
Many Persons have made it the Study of great Part of their Lives, to counteract Providence in this honest Appointment; to shut this Window, by which, an impertinent World is so apt to peep in, and spy what they are about; and, as far as possible, to make the Expressions of their Countenance, to belie every Sentiment and Emotion of their Heart.
I have known
Hypocrisy, Treachery, Pride, Malice,
and
Lust,
assume the opposite Semblance of
Saintship, Fidelity, Lowliness, Benevolence,
and
Chastity:
But, it is painful to keep the Bow of Nature long bent; its Elasticity will still struggle to have it restored; and a skillful Discerner, at the Time of such Delusion, will often detect the Difference between a real Character and the acting of a Part. For, when Nature dictates, the whole Man speaks; all is uniform and consenting in Voice, Mien, Motion, the turn of each Feature, and the Cast of the Eyes. But, when Art is the Spokesman, and that Nature is not altogether suppressed; the Turn of the Eye may contradict the Tongue; and the Muscles of the Face may counteract each other in their several Workings. And, thus, I have known an Expression of Resentment remain on the Brow, while the Face laboured to invest itself with a Smile of Complacence; and, I have known the Eye to burn with ill-governed Concupiscence, while Voice, Action, and Address, united in the Avowal of chaste and honourable Regards.
I perceive, Sir, said Mr.
Clement,
by your own Account, that he must be a very learned Proficient, in the Study of Physiognomy, who can decide, with any kind of Certainty, on an Art that requires such Attention and Penetration.
I beg leave to differ, answered Mr.
Fenton.
The Science is much more obvious than you may imagine; and I fancy there are very few Persons, who do not trust, without reflecting, to their own Skill in this Way; and who do not, inadvertently, form a Character to themselves of almost all the People with whom they are conversant.
I am persuaded that there is not a single Sentiment, whether tending to Good or Evil, in the human Soul, that has not its distinct and respective Interpreter in the Glance of the Eye, and in the Muscling of the Countenance. When Nature is permitted to express Herself with Freedom by this Language of the Face, she is understood by all People; and those who never were taught a Letter can instantly read her Signatures and Impressions; whether they be of Wrath, Hatred, Envy, Pride, Jealousy, Vexation, Contempt; Pain, Fear, Horror and Dismay; or of Attention, Respect, Wonder, Surprise, Pleasure, Transport, Complacence, Affection, Desire, Peace, Lowliness, and Love.
Now, all Persons are born with Propensities (whether they be mental or constitutional) to some Passions and Affections, rather than to Others. I will take two Instances; the one, of a Male Infant who is born with a Propensity to Pride and Arrogance: The other of a Female Infant, who is born with a Propensity to Bashfulness and Lowliness. In either Case, it is evident, that, from the first Occasion that may serve to excite these several Affections, in these several Infants, the Sentiments of their Souls will be suitably and intelligibly expressed in their Aspects; and every further Occasion of renewing the same Impressions will render them more obvious and legible to every Eye. Insomuch that, if no future Influence, arising from Accident or Education, shall check the Pride of the one or divert the Lowliness of the other; the Male will be seen to look on those about him with an habitual Self-sufficiency and Contempt of his Species; and the Female will be seen to regard Humankind, with an amiable Diffidence and a complacent Respect.
Let us see however, how far Education may be able to change these Sentiments; and, how far a Change of Sentiments may produce a Change of Face.
If the Scorner should be so happy as to meet with worthy Tutors, wise, and diligent to inculcate the Insufficiency of all Creatures, and more particularly the Wants, Weaknesses, and Vileness, of our lapsed Natures; and that no Honour can belong to Man in this his State of Depravity. But above all, should this Scorner prove so happy as to be educated in the never failing School of Christian Meekness; even the School of Adversity, of Pain, Sickness, depressing Poverty, and Mortification; his lofty Crest by Degrees will be effectually unplumed; his Sufficiency and high Mindedness will sink to an humble Prayer and look out for Relief; and he will respect even the Wretched, because he will acquire a social Sense and Fellow-feeling of their Wretchedness.
Here, then, is another Man, as new made and as different from his former Self as he can possibly be supposed from any other of the human Species. But, will this total Change of Sentiment produce no Change of Aspect, think you? Will this benevolent and lowly Man retain the same Front of Haughtiness, the same Brow of Overbearance, the same Eye of Elevation, the same Lip of Ridicule, and the same Glance of Contempt? It cannot be said, it cannot be imagined.
When God, by his inspired Penmen, expresses his Detestation of
a lofty Look,
was he quarrelling, do ye think, with the natural and unavoidable Cast of an unhappy Countenance? No, no, my dear Friends. In condemning a proud Aspect, he condemned a proud Heart; forasmuch as he knew that a Loftiness of Look and a Sauciness of Soul could not be divided.
But, to clear up this Question from any remaining Doubt, let us suppose that the female Infant, with bashful and lowly Propensities, is just brought down, blushing and trembling, from the Nursery. Let us suppose her Education to be taken in Hand, by a Mama of Figure and Fashion, and by other Dames of Quality, whose Estimate of Happiness is measured merely by the Mode. She now becomes instructed in more Instances of Self-Denial, than such as dictated and tuned by Christianity, would have sainted her for Eternity. She is taught to suppress her natural Feelings and Inclinations, and to bridle the Impulses of an affectionate and humble Heart. She is taught to prize what she dislikes, and to praise what she disapproves; to affect Coldness and Distance to Inferiors whom she regarded, and to proportion her Appearance of Inclination, and Respect, to the Station of the Party.
As I have been Ear-witness to several of these Quality Lectures, I might give you many familiar Instances of their Nature and Tendency. Fye
Harriet,
says my Lady, what does the Girl blush at? You are handsome and well-shaped, my Dear, and have nothing to be ashamed of, that I know. No one blushes now a Days, except silly Country Wenches who are ignorant of the World. But, if you have any naughty Thoughts that make you blush, why, keep 'em to yourself Child, and we shall never be the wiser. But, don't let your Face be a Town-Crier,
Harriet,
to let every Body know what you have in your Mind. To be ashamed, my Girl, is the greatest of all Shames.
Again, my Dear, I warn you, that you must not be so fond of the Miss
Collesses,
who used to visit you in the Nursery. For, though they are good sort of Girls, their Parents are People in but middling Life, and we never admit 'em when there's Company in the House. And then, there's the Miss
Sanclairs,
how low you curtsied to 'em Yesterday: and what a Rout you made about welcoming and entertaining them; but, let me have no more of that, for though they are rich, they are Cits, and People of Business; and a Nod of your Head, or Inclination toward a Curtsy, with some Yeses and Noes when they ask you a Question, will be Matter enough of Salute and Discourse from you to them.
You say that your Stays are too low before, and that they pain you about the Waste; but I know it is impossible; for a young Lady must never dislike or be pained, by any Thing that shows the Fineness of her Skin or Shape to Advantage.
I must further advise you,
Harriet,
not to heap such Mountains of Sugar, nor to pour such a Deluge of Cream into your Tea; People will certainly take you for the Daughter of a Dairy-Maid. There is young
Jenny Quirp,
who is a Lady, by Birth, and she has brought herself to the Perfection of never suffering the Tincture of her Tea to be spoiled by Whitening, nor the Flavour to be adulterated by a Grain of Sweet. And then you say you can't like Coffee; and I could not but laugh, though I was quite ashamed at the wry Faces you made the other Day, when you mistook the Olives for Sweetmeats. But these Things, my Child, are relished by Persons of Taste, and you must force yourself to swallow and relish them, also.
I was talking awhile ago of young Lady
Jane Quirp.
There's a Pattern for you,
Harriet;
one who never likes or dislikes, or says or does any Thing a Hair's Breadth beyond the Pink of the Mode. She is ugly, it is true, and very ill-natured; but then she is finely bred, and has all the becoming Airs of a Miss of Distinction. Her you must love, my Child, and to her you must pay your Court; for you must learn to love and prefer such Matters and Persons, alone, as will serve, in the Beau-Monde, to render you noted and respected for the Accomplishments in vogue.
These Lessons and Efforts, in Time, have their Influence. Miss comes to accommodate her Taste, and Relish of Things, to the Taste and Relish of those whom she is proud to resemble. She now is ashamed of Nothing, but in Proportion as it is below the Top of the Mode; and she blushes at no Indecency that Fashion is pleased to adopt. Her whole Soul and Essence is futilized and extracted into Shew and Superficials. She learns that Friendship, in high Life, is nothing but Compliment; and Visits, Intimacies, and Connections, the polite Grimace of People of Distinction. That, to talk elegantly upon Nothing, is the Sum of Conversation. That Beauty and Dress are the Constituents of female Perfection. And that the more we depreciate and detract from others, the more eminently we ourselves shall shine forth and be exalted. She is followed by Fops, she is worshipped by Fortunehunters. She is mounted aloft upon the Wings of Flattery, and is hardened against public Opinion by Self conceit. While she beholds a circling Group, of the Taylor's Creation, admiring the Harmony of her Motions, the Fineness of her Complexion, and the Lustre of her Ornaments, the same Vanity, that bids her to be desirous of Conquests, bids her also to despise them: But, for the vulgar World, she regards it as the Dust beneath her Steps, created to no End, save to be looked down upon, and trodden under Foot.
Will ye now affirm, or can ye conceive, that any Trace of native Bashfulness and Lowliness should remain in the Frontlet of this Piece of Court-Petrefaction? No such Trace can remain.
As I observed to ye before, that every Affection of the human Soul has its distinct and respective Interpreter in the Countenance; I am further to take Notice that each, of those many Interpreters, hath its respective Set of Tubes and Fibres leading thereto, through which the Blood and Spirits flow on their respective Emotion. Thus, whatever the general Tenour of a Person's Temper may be, such as joyous, or melancholy, irascible, or placid, and so forth; the Vessels, relative to these Affections, are kept open and full, by an almost constant Flow of the Blood and animal Spirits, and impress such evident Characters of that Person's Disposition, as are not to be suppressed, except for a Time, and that too by some powerful and opposite Passion. For the Muscles, so employed, grow stronger and more conspicuous by Exercise; as we see the Legs of a Chairman, and the Shoulders of a Porter, derive Bulk and Distinction from the Peculiarity of their Occupation.
Now, I will take the Argument in the strongest Light against myself. I will suppose a Man to be naturally of a melancholy Cast of Countenance; that he has the additional unhappiness of a bilious Constitution; and, that he is confirmed in this Look and Habit of Despondence, by a Train of distressful Circumstances, till he arrives at his twentieth or thirtieth Year. I will then suppose that his Habit of Body, and Temper of Mind are totally changed, by Medicine, a Flow of Success, a happy Turn of Reason and Resignation, or perhaps of Complacence in the divine Dispensations. He now grows sociable, benevolent, cheerful, always joyous when in Company and placid when alone. I ask, on this Occasion, will ye continue to see the same Cast and Habit of Melancholy in this Man's Countenance? No more than ye can see the Gloom of last Winter, in the smiling Serene of a Summer's-Evening. For some Time, I admit, it will be difficult for the Set of joyous Muscles, and Glances, to overpower their Adversaries who have so long kept the Field; but, in the End, they must prevail; they will receive constant Supplies, from within; and the Passages, for their Reinforcement, will be opened more and more; while their Opponents daily subside, give Place, and disappear.
What I have observed, with respect to Melancholy, may be equally affirmed of any other Affection, whose opposite gets an habitual Empire in the Mind. I say habitual, because there are some Persons of such variable and fluctuating Tempers, now furious, now complacent; now churlish, now generous; now mopingly melancholy, now merry to Madness; now pious, now profane; now cruelly hardhearted, now meltingly humane; that a Man can no more judge of what Nature or Disposition such People are, than he can determine what Wind shall predominate next
April;
and yet, when the Wind blows, he can tell by every Cloud and Weather Cock, from what Point it comes; and may as easily decypher the present Temper, by the Aspect.
But, Sir, said
Arabella,
might not Nature impress, as in the Case of
Socrates,
such conspicuous Characters of Vice (in his peculiar Cast of Countenance and strong Turn of muscling) as no internal Virtues should be able to retract?
By no means Madam, answered Mr.
Fenton.
For, if such Characters are impressed by Nature on the Countenance, independent of any such Characters in the Mind, this would, first, overthrow the whole System of the Physiognomists, who judged of the Mind by the Countenance alone. And, secondly, it would owerthrow the Opinion of
Socrates
himself, who allowed that his Countenance had received such Impressions from the natural Bent and Disposition of his Mind. But, again, if the Mind has really a Power to impress her own Character or Likeness on the Countenance; what should take away this Power, why does she not retain it? Why should not a total Change of Character in the Soul, make some suitable Change of Character in the Aspect? It does, Madam, it does make a total Change. And there are thousands of Faces, in yonder sanctified City, that, once, expressed all the Sweetness of bashful Modesty; and yet are, now, as much hardened and bronzed over with Impudence; as the Face of the Statue at
Charing-Cross.
In the soft and pliable Features of Infancy and Youth, the Mind can express itself with much more Force and Perspicuity, than in the Features of People more advanced in Years. The Nerves and Fibres, in our early Age, are all open, active, and animated; They reach to the outward Surface of the Skin; and the Soul looks forth, and is seen through them, as a
Spanish
Beauty is seen through a Veil of Gauze. But Time destroys many of these intelligible Fibres; it also obstructs others; and it renders the Remainder less susceptible of those Offices and mental Impressions, for which they were ordained; till the Surface of the Countenance grows so callous and rigid, that the Beauties of the Soul can no more be discovered through it, than the Luminaries of Heaven through an Atmosphere of Clouds. Scarce any Thing, save sudden Passion, can then be discernible, like Flashes of Lightening that break through the Gloom.
For this very Reason, my dear Mrs.
Clement,
were it possible for you to advance in Virtues, as you advance in Years; you will however grow less amiable in the Eyes of Mortals, as your Beauties will be, more and more, shut in from their Observation.
This brings me to my last and most important Remark, on the Nature and Power of Beauty, itself. And here we must note that, though Nothing can be affectingly lovely or detestable, that does not arise from some Sentiment of the Soul, there is yet, in many Faces, such a natural Symmetry or Disproportion, as is generally called by the Name of Beauty, and Ugliness. Thus, in some Countenances, you perceive a due Relation and Agreement between the Parts. While in others, the Forehead may overwhelm the nether Face; or the Mouth threaten to devour the other Features; or the Nose may appear as a huge Steeple that hides a small Church; or, as a Mountain that is the whole of a Man's Estate; insomuch that, as some may be said to want a Nose to their Face, in the present Case they may be said to want a Face to their Nose. But this Species of Beauty and Ugliness excites no other kind of Pleasure or Disgust save such as we receive from two Pieces of Architecture, where one is executed with Propriety, and the other is obviously out of all Rule. And, to continue the Simile, if People should be seen looking out at the Windows of those two Buildings; we may come to detest and avoid the First, and to love and frequent the Latter, for the Sake of those who live therein. And just so it is, with regular Faces that express a Deformity of Soul; and, with disproportioned Features that may, however, be pregnant with the Beauty of Sentiment.
By Beauty, therefore, I do not mean the Beauty of Lines, or Angles; of Motion, or Music; of Form, or Colour; of numerical Agreements, or Geometrical Proportions; nor that which excites the Passion, of some pragmatical Inamoratos, for a Shell, a Tulip, or a Butter-fly. All these have, undoubtedly, their peculiar Beauty; but, then, that Beauty has no Relation to the Power or Perception of that which contains it; it is derived from something that is, altogether, foreign; and owes the whole of its Merit to the superior Art and Influence of God or Man.
In the Designings of Sculptors, of Painters and Statuaries, we, however, see very great and truly affecting Beauty. I have, at times, been melted into Tears thereby; and have felt within my Bosom the actual Emotions of Distress, and Compassion, of Friendship and of Love. I ask then what it was that excited these Sensations? Could any Lines, Colourings, or mere Symmetry of inanimate Parts, inspire Affections, of which in themselves they were incapable? No. They could only serve, as the Vehicles of something intended to inspire such Sensibilities, nothing further. We must, therefore, look higher for a Cause more adequate to such extraordinary Effects; and the first that presents itself is the Designer, who must have conceived amiable Sentiments within himself, before he could impress their Beauty on these his Interpreters, in order to excite suitable Affections in others.
Here then it is evident that, whatever we affect or love, in the Design, is no other than the Sentiment or Soul of the Designer; though we neither see nor know any Thing further concerning him. And thus, a Sculptor, a Painter, a Statuary, or amiable Author, by conveying their Sentiments, in lasting and intelligible Characters to Mankind, may make the World Admirers and Lovers of their Beauty, when their Features shall be rigid and incapable of Expression, and, when they themselves shall no longer exist among Men.
From hence it should seem, as indeed I am fully persuaded, that Mind can affectingly love nothing but Mind; and, that universal Nature can exhibit no single Grace or Beauty, that does not arise from Sentiment alone.
The Power of this sentimental Beauty, as I may say, is, in many Cases, great, amazing! and has not yet been accounted for, that I know of, by any Philosopher, Poet, or Author; though several have made it their peculiar Study and Subject. We have seen, and read of many Instances, where it carries People, as it were, quite out of themselves; and gives them to live, and to be interested, in the Object of their Affections alone. They will run to fight, bleed, suffer, and even to die in its Defence. And in its Absence, they will pine, and despair, and attempt to destroy themselves, rather than bear to be divided from what they love, in a Manner, above their own Existence.
This is wonderful, perhaps mysterious! and may possibly be involved in impenetrable Darkness. Let us try however if we can throw any probable Lights upon it.
We have already seen that human Artificers can impress the Beauty of their own Sentiments on their inanimate Works. Suppose, then, that God should be barely the same to universal Nature, that a finite Designer is to the Piece he has in Hand. He finds that the Stuff or Material, which he is to form and to inform, is, in itself, utterly incapable of any Thing that is beautiful, and consequently incapable of any Thing that is desirable. He, therefore, finds himself under the Necessity of imparting to his Works, some faint Manifestation or Similitude of Himself; for otherwise they cannot be amiable; neither can he see his Shadow in them with any Delight. On Matter therefore, he, first, impresses such distant Characters of his own Beauty, as the Subject will bear; in the Glory of the Heavens, in the Movement of the Planets, in the Symmetry of Form, in the Harmony of Sounds, in the Elegance of Colours, in the elaborate Texture of the smallest Leaf; and, in the infinitely fine Mechanism of such Insects, and Minims of Nature, as are scarce visible to Eyes of the clearest Discernment.
But, when God comes toward Home, if the Phrase may be allowed; when he impresses on intelligent Spirits a nearer Resemblance of himself, and imparts to them, also, a Perception and Relish of the Beauty, with which he has informed them, he then delights to behold, and will eternally delight to behold his Image, so fairly reflected by such a living Mirror. Yet, still, they are no other than his own Beauties that he beholds in his Works; for, his Omnipotence can impress, but cannot possibly detach a single Grace from himself.
I am not quite singular in this Opinion. I have somewhere read the following Stanza.
'Tis
Goodness
forms the
Beauty
of the Face,
The Line of
Virtue
is the Line of
Grace.
Here is also a little Poem, lately published on a Lady, who was beholden to the Graces of her Mind alone for all the Attractions of her Person and Countenance.
What is Beauty? is it Form,
Proportion, Colours pale or warm?
Or is it, as by some defined,
A Creature of the Lover's Mind?
No --It is internal Grace
Pregnant in the Form and Face;
The Sentiment that's heard, and seen,
In Act, and Manners, Voice, and Mein;
It is the Soul's caelestial Ray,
Breaking through the Veil of Clay;
'Tis the Godhead, in the Heart,
Touching each external Part;
Wrapt in Matter, else too bright
For our Sense, and for our Sight.
BEAUTY (Envy be thou dumb)
Is DIVINITY in   
Here we reach at the Nature of that Enchantment, or Magnetism, with which some Persons are so powerfully indued, as to engage the Liking of all who barely behold them; an Enchantment often attractive of Friendship, Affection, Passion, to Tenderness, Languishment, Pain, Sickness, and Death.
Here also we discover why the Bliss, which we reach after, eludes our Grasp; why it vanishes, as it were, in the Moment of Enjoyment, yet still continues to fascinate and attract as before; forasmuch as the BEAUTY, after which we sigh, is not essentially in the Mirror where we behold its Similitude. Thus,
Ixion
is said to have clasped a Cloud, without reflecting that it was but a bare Resemblance of the real Divinity who had excited his Passion.
This will at once account for all the wonderful Effects of Beauty. For, if nothing but GOD is lovely, if nothing else can be beloved; he is himself the universal and irresistible Magnet, that draws all intelligent and affectionate Beings, through the Medium of Creatures, to the Graces of their Creator; till the Veil shall finally be taken away, and that he himself shall appear, in his eternal, unclouded and unspeakable Beauty, infinitely lovely and infinitely beloved.
But, I have out talked my Time, says Mr.
Fenton,
rising, and looking at his Watch. I am engaged for an Hour or two above Street, and wish ye a good Evening.
While Mr.
Fenton
was abroad.
Ned,
who would not willingly have exchanged his Unluckiness for the Heirship of an Estate, happened to take a little Ramble through the Town. He held a Stick, to the End of which he had a long Ferule of hollow Tin, which he could take off at Pleasure; and, from the Extremity of the Ferule, there arose a small collateral Pipe, in an Angle of about forty five Degrees. He had filled this Ferule with Puddlewater; which, by a sudden Pressure of the Stick, he could squirt out, to double the Height of his own Stature.
On his Return, he saw an an elderly Gentleman advancing, whose Shadow, being lengthened by the declining Sun, attended, with a slow and stately Motion. As
Ned
approached, he exclaimed, with a well counterfeited Fear, look, look! what's that behind you? take Care of yourself, Sir, for Heaven's sake, take Care!
The Gentleman, alarmed hereat, instantly started, turned pale, and looked terrified behind him, and on either Side; when
Ned,
recovering his Countenance, said, O Sir, I beg Pardon, I believe it's nothing but your Shadow. What Sirrah, cried the Gentleman, in a Tone highly exasperated, have you learned no better Manners than to banter your Superiors? and then, lifting a Kane Switch, he gave our merry Companion a few smart Strokes across the Shoulders.
This, I presume, must be some very respectable Personage, some extraordinary Favourite of yours; since, within a few Lines you stile him, three or four Times, by your
most venerable of all Titles,
the Title of a
Gentleman.
Sir, I would not hold three Words of Conversation with any Man who did not deserve the Appellation of
Gentleman,
by many Degrees, better than this Man does.
Why then do you write or speak with such acknowledged Impropriety?
I think for myself, but I speak for the People. I may think as I please, for I understand my own Thoughts; but, would I be understood when I speak to others also, I must speak with the People, I must speak in common Terms according to their common or general Acceptation.
There is no Term, in our Language, more common than that of
Gentleman;
and, whenever it is heard, all agree in the general Idea of a Man some way elevated above the Vulgar. Yet, perhaps no two, living, are precisely agreed, respecting the Qualities they think requisite for constituting this Character. When we hear the Epithets of a fine
Gentleman,
a
pretty Gentleman, much of a Gentleman, Gentlemanlike, something of a Gentleman, nothing of a Gentleman,
and so forth; all these different Appellations must intend a Peculiarity annexed to the Ideas of those who express them; though no two of them, as I said, may agree in the constituent Qualities of the Character they have formed in their own Mind.
There have been Ladies who deemed a Bag-Wig, tasseld Waistcoat, new fashioned Snuff-Box, and Sword-Knot, very capital Ingredients in the Composition of --a Gentleman.
A certain easy Impudence acquired by low People, by casually being conversant in high Life, has passed a Man current thro' many Companies for --a Gentleman.
In the Country a laced Hat and long Whip makes --a Gentleman.
In Taverns and in Brothels, he who is the most of a Bully is the most of --a Gentleman.
With Heralds, every Esquire is, indisputably, --a Gentleman.
And the Highway Man, in his Manner of taking your Purse; and your Friend, in his Manner of debauching your Wife, may however be allowed to have --much of the Gentleman.
As you say, my Friend, our Ideas of this Matter are very various and adverse. In our own Minds, perhaps, they are also indetermined; and I question if any Man has formed, to himself, a Conception of this Character with sufficient Precision. Pray --was there any such Character among the Philosophers?
Plato,
among the Philosophers, was
the most of a Man of Fashion;
and therefore allowed, at the Court of
Syracuse,
to be   
the most of a Gentleman.
But seriously, I apprehend that this Character is pretty much upon the Modern. In all ancient or dead Languages we have no Term, any way adequate, whereby we may express it. In the Habits, Manners, and Characters, of old
Sparta
and old
Rome,
we find an Antipathy to all the Elements of modern Gentility. Among those rude and unpolished People, you read of Philosophers, of Orators, Patriots, Heroes, and Demigods; but you never hear of any Character so elegant as that of   
a pretty Gentleman.
When those Nations, however, became refined into what their Ancestors would have called Corruption. When Luxury introduced, and Fashion gave a Sanction to certain Sciences, which
Cynics
would have branded with the illmannered Appellations of Debauchery, Drunkenness, Whoredom, Gambling, Cheating, Lying,
&c.
the Practitioners assumed the new Title of
Gentlemen,
till such
Gentlemen
became as plenteous as Stars in the Milky-Way, and lost Distinction merely by the Confluence of their Lustre.
Wherefore, as the said Qualities were found to be of ready Acquisition, and of easy Descent to the Populace from their Betters, Ambition judg'd it necessary to add further Marks and Criterions, for severing the general Herd from the nobler Species   
of Gentlemen.
Accordingly, if the Commonalty were observed to have a Propensity to Religion; their Superiors affected a Disdain of such vulgar Prejudices; and a Freedom that cast off the Restraints of Morality, and a Courage that spurned at the Fear of a God, were accounted the distinguishing Characteristics of   
a Gentleman.
If the Populace, as in
China,
were industrious and ingenious, the Grandees, by the Length of their Nails and the cramping of their Limbs, gave Evidence that true Dignity was above Labour or Utility, and that to be born to no End was the Prerogative   
of a Gentleman.
If the common Sort, by their Conduct, declare a Respect for the Institutions of civil Society and good Government; their Betters despise such pusillanimous Conformity, and the Magistrates pay becoming Regard to the Distinction, and allow of the superior Liberties and Privileges   
of a Gentleman.
If the lower Set show a Sense of Common-Honesty and Common-Order; those, who would figure in the World, think it incumbent to demonstrate that Complacence to Inferiors, common Manners, common Equity, or any Thing common is quite beneath the Attention or Sphere   
of a Gentleman.
Now, as Underlings are ever ambitious of imitating and usurping the Manners of their Superiors; and as this State of Mortality is incident to perpetual Change and Revolution; it may happen that when the Populace, by encroaching on the Province of Gentility, have arrived to their
ne plus ultra
of Insolence, Debaucherry, Irreligion,
&c.
the Gentry, in order to be again distinguished, may assume the Station that their Inferiors had forsaken, and, however ridiculous the Supposition may appear at present,
Humanity, Equity, Utility, Complacence,
and
Piety
may, in Time, come to be the
distinguishing Characteristics --of a Gentleman.
From what you have said, it appears that the most general Idea, which People have formed of a Gentleman, is that of a Person of Fortune, above the Vulgar, and embellished by Manners that are fashionable in high Life. In this Case,
Fortune
and
Fashion
are the two
constituent Ingredients
in the Composition of modern
Gentlemen;
for, whatever the Fashion may be, whether moral or immoral, for or against Reason, right or wrong, it is equally the Duty of a
Gentleman
to conform.
And yet, I apprehend that true Gentility is altogether independent of Fortune or Fashion, of Time, Customs, or Opinions of any Kind. The very same Qualities that constituted a
Gentleman,
in the first Age of the World, are permanently, invariably, and indispensably necessary to the Constitution of the same Character, to the End of Time.
By what you say, I perceive that we have not yet touch'd on your
most reverable of all Characters.
I am quite impatient to hear your Definition, or rather Description of your favourite
Gentleman.
The very first Time you tire, I will indulge you, if you desire it.
CHAP. X.
NED was not of a Temper to endure much, without attempting at Retaliation; and directing the Pipe of his Ferule to the Front of his Adversary, he suddenly discharged the full Contents in his Eyes and Face, and upon his Cloathing; and, strait taking to his Heels, he hoped to get in at Door, before the Stranger could clear his Sight to take Notice where he sheltered.
Ned
however happened, at this Time, to be somewhat over sanguine in his Expectations. Mr.
Snarle,
for that was the Name of the Party bespattered, had just cleared one Eye, in Season, to remark where his Enemy entered; and hastening Home, he washed, undressed, and shifted his Linen and clothes, with less Passion and fewer Curses by the Half, than he conceived to be due to so outrageous an Insult.
Mr.
Snarle
had himself been a Humourist, in his Time, and had acquired a pretty Competence by very fashionable Means; such as Gambling, bearing Testimony for a Friend in Distress, procuring Intelligence for the Ministry, and Wenches for the Peerage. He had, some Years ago, been bullied into Marriage by the Relations of a young Termagant, while he attempted to take such a Sample of her Charms as might enable him to recommend her to an Acquaintance of Quality. She was neither gentle by Nature, nor polished by Education; she liked nothing of her Husband except his Fortune; and they lived together in a State of perpetual Altercation, and mutual Disgust.
Old Age, and a quarrelsome Companion for Life, seldom happen to be Sweeteners of the human Temper; and Mr.
Snarle
had now acquired such a Quantum of the Infirmities both of Body and Mind, as might justly apologize for a peevish Disposition. He had lately taken a handsome House on the Hill, for the Benefit of Air. As soon as he had reclaimed himself from the Pickle into which
Ned
had put him, he sent to enquire the Name and Character of the Owner of that House where he had taken Refuge; and, being sufficiently apprised of what he wanted to know, he walked toward Mr.
Fenton
's, hastening his Pace with the Spirit and Expectation of Revenge.
Mr.
Fenton
had arrived but a little before, and desiring to know Mr.
Snarle
's Commands, he was informed, in Terms the most aggravating and inveterate, of the whole Course and History of
Ned
's Misbehaviour. The Delinquent thereupon was called up to instant Trial. He honestly confessed the Facts, but pleaded, in Mitigation, the Beating that Mr.
Snarle
had, already, given him. But as Mr.
Fenton
did not judge this sufficient to reform the natural Petulance of a Disposition that, otherwise, was not void of Merit; a Rod was immediately brought; and
Andrew
was ordered to horse, and
Frank
to flog the Criminal in Presence of the Party aggrieved.
During this Operation, Mr.
Snarle
observed that
Frank
's Hand did not, altogether, answer to the Benevolence of his own Heart; whereupon, he furiously snatched the Rod from him, and began to lay at
Ned
with might and main. Hereat Mr.
Fenton
ordered
Andrew
to let the Boy down, and observing, that he would no further interfere in a Cause, where the Appellant assumed judgement and Execution to himself, he carelesly turned his Back upon Mr.
Snarle,
and left him to cool his Passions by his Evening's Walk homeward.
Poor
Ned
was more afraid of Mr.
Fenton
's Displeasure, than he would have been of a full Brother to the Whipping he had got. But Mr.
Fenton
was too generous, to add the Severity of his own Countenance to the Weight of
Frank
's Hand; and
Ned
was quickly reinstated in the good Graces of the Family.
His Genius however returned, with an involuntary Bent, toward obtaining Satisfaction for the Injuries he had received from Mr.
Snarle,
provided he might retaliate without fear of Detection; and he was not slow in contriving very adequate Means.
There was a Villager in
Hamstead,
about ten Years of Age, who had conceived an uncommon Kindness for
Ned,
on account of his Sprightliness, his Wit, and good Humour. To this condoling Friend he had imparted his Grievances; and, on him alone he depended, for Execution of the Project proposed for Redress.
On a certain moonless Night, they mustered four tame Cats, and having bound some Feuze round three or four Inches of the Extremity of each of their Tails, they lodged them together in a Bag; and somewhat after Suppertime, when all the Town was silent, they marched softly and cautiously to the House of Mr.
Snarle.
There
Ned
's Friend, with his Knife, dext'rously
picked away the Putty from a Pane of the Window of a Side-chamber, where no Light appeared; and having put Fire to the Feuze of each Tail successively, they slipped their Cats, one by one, in at the Window; and again, having pegged the Pane into its Place, they withdrew to a little Distance, to watch the Issue.
The poor Cats remained silent, and universally inoffensive, while they felt no Damage. But, as soon as the Fire had seized on their Tails, they began to speak to you in a Language wholly peculiar, as one would think, to Sentiments and Sounds of diabolical Intention.
Mr. and Mrs.
Snarle
had been jangling over the Fire in an opposite Parlour; when their Dispute was suddenly settled by this Outcry, as they imagined, of a Legion of Infernals. They instantly started up, and cast a Countenance of pale and contagious Pannic at each other. But
George
the Footman, a strong and bold Fellow, having just before entered on some Business to his Master, turned and ran to the Chamber from whence the Peal came. He threw open the Door with his wonted Intrepidity; but this was as far as mortal Courage could go; for the Cats, spying a Passage whereby, as they conceived, they might fly from their Pain, rushed suddenly and jointly on the Face and Breast of
George,
and back he fell with a Cry of Terror and Desperation. On however went the Cats, and flying into the Parlour, one fastened a Claw in each Cheek of Mr.
Snarle,
and, as his Lady screamed out and clapped her Hands before her Face, another fastened, with four Fangs, on her best Brussels Head, and rent and tore away after a lamentable Manner.
The Chamber-Maid and Cook, hearing the Uproar from the Kitchen, were afraid to ascend and still more afraid to stay below alone. They therefore crept softly and trembling up Stairs The Torture the Cats were in, did not permit them to be attached to any single Object. They had quitted Mr. and Mrs.
Snarle,
and now flew about the Parlour, smashing, dashing, and overturning Piers, Glasses, and China, and whatever came in their Way, as though it had been the very Palace of Pandaemonium itself.
George
was again on his Legs; his Master and Mistress had eloped from the Parlour, and met the two Maids in the Middle of the Entry. They concluded
nemine con.
to get as speedily, as they might, from the Ministers of Darkness, and would willingly have escaped by the Street-Door; but alas this was not possible; one of the Devils guarded the Pass, and clinging to the great Lock with all his Talons, growled and yelled in the Dialect of twenty of the Damned. The Stairs however remained open, and up they would have rushed, but were so enfeebled by their Fright, that this could not be done in the Way of a Race.
As they mounted, by the Help of the Walls and the Banisters; says Mrs.
Snarle
to her Mate, in a languid and soft Voice, my Dear, and my Jewel, 'tis all along of you that I am thus haunted, your old Friend, I find, makes no Distinction of Persons; and, when he comes to take you Home, as come he will, 'tis twenty to one but he takes me for Company. Indeed, my Angel, cries Mr.
Snarle,
in a Tone of like Complacence, I should much rather he would be pleased to take me single, wherever it may be his good Pleasure to carry me; for, I know of nothing that I have done so heinous neither, to have one Damnation heaped on the Top of the other.
Having scaled as far as the Dining-Room, they all entered and bolted the Door, and Mr.
Snarle
opening a Window, saw a large Posse of Neighbours who had gathered below. What is the Matter, Sir, cried one of them, what is the meaning of this horrible Uproar and Din? one would think that Hell was empty, and that all its Inhabitants were come to keep Carnival in your House.
O, a Ladder, a Ladder, cries Mr.
Snarle;
deliver us, good People, good Christian People; a Ladder, we beseech ye, a Ladder, a Ladder! that indeed, cries a Wag, is the last good Turn an honest Fellow has Occasion for.
The Ladder was soon brought, and this Panic-stricken Family were helped down and, charitably, conducted to the great Inn of St.
George
and the
Dragon,
where, with the help of Sack Whey, warm Beds, and their remaining Terrors, they got a hearty Sweat, and were somewhat composed by Ten o'Clock next Morning. They then got up, and having breakfasted on a Pot of milled Chocolate, they hurried to
London,
without adventuring to send to the haunted Mansion, for any Change of clothes or Linen; for, they would rather have put on Garments that had been dipt in the Blood of
Nessus,
than have touched any Thing in a House of which, with the Furniture, Plate, Bedding, and other Appurtenances, the Devil, as they conceived, had taken legal and full Possession.
In truth, there was scarce an Inhabitant of the whole Town of
Hamstead,
who differed in Opinion on this Head, insomuch that, as Day after Day began gradually to shut in, all People, who had Occasion to pass by the Dwelling of the late ejected Mr.
Snarle,
kept more and more aloof to the opposite Side of the Way, in Proportion as their Apprehensions increased with the Darkness. And all Things in the House remained as safe from Depredation, as though they had been guarded by a Regiment of Dragoons.
Imaginary Howlings were heard by the whole Neighbourhood, and still continued to issue from thence Night by Night. And it was as firmly believed, as it was currently reported, that while Mr.
Snarle
made his Escape through the Window,
Satan
clawed off a Collop from his Posteriors, in earnest of his Carcass in Remainder, on a further Day.
The Cats, in the mean Time, lived plentifully and at free Cost on the cold Meats which they found in the Kitchen and Larder; and, as the Anguish of their Tails was now no more remembered, they kept undisturbed Possession of their new Acquisition, so that, during their Residence, not even a Mouse was stirring.
In about a Week after Mr.
Snarle
's Departure for
London,
he sent an Undertaker, and a Friend on whom he depended, with Authority to enter the haunted House, to take an Inventory of all the Effects, and to sell them to the Inhabitants by public Auction. They accordingly borrowed a Ladder, and got in at the same Window by which the Family got out. They found all quiet; and, stepping somewhat timorously down Stairs, they opened the Street and back Doors, and Parlour Windows, and then prevailed upon two or three reputable Neighbours to enter, and witness the Inventory they were going to take.
The Cats, in the mean Time, finding all late Impediments and Embargoes removed, slunk silently and unperceived away; and retreated in excellent Plight to their respective Habitations. Though
Gammar Gruff
and
Goody Gurton,
gave many a Curse to the Rats, who had so flead and mauled the Tails of their Tabbies.
The Inventory being ended, public Notice was given throughout the Town, of the Sale to begin precisely at Ten the following Morning. At the Hour appointed, there was scarce a living Animal left to continue the Possession of any House in
Hamstead.
All crowded to see the Goods and Chattels of the Devil sold according to Law. The Auctioneer mounted his oratorial Eminence, and pranced and paraded for Half an Hour, like the Sign of the
Flying-Horse
in
Holbourn,
without proceeding a Foot in the Business on which he came. Sir, Madam, good intelligent People, observe! observe, I say, you Table; what a Beauty, what an admirable Curiosity is there! that Table, Gentlemen and Ladies, is all of virgin Yew, taken pure and undefiled from its native Forest. There's a Complexion, there's a Polish! it is a Looking Glass, in which, the favourite
Sultana,
or Daughter of the
Grand Seignior,
might behold every Charm reflected with Advantage. Note the Variety of its Tints, the Luxuriance of its Veinings. How prodigal Nature has been, in expending on this favourite Piece of Vegetation, such a Number of Excellencies, such a Profusion of Beauties! Neither has Art fallen short of the Graces and Perfections of Nature herein. Mark the Taste, the Manner, the Mouldings; how jointed and framed together, as one organized Body. The Operator no Doubt took a Pleasure, by his Workmanship, to rival the Beauties of the Subject on which he wrought. --I set it up at five Guineas --What is five Guineas, my Friends? --Not the Half of what ye will bid at the second Word --and, what is five times five Guineas, to the intrinsic Value? --The Curious, indeed, have nothing so rare in their Cabinets --Neither ever had Prince
Arthur,
or any of the Knights of the famous Round-Table, the Honour of sitting round such a Table as this. Gentlemen --Ladies --Who bids? --You think the Merits above Price, and that may discourage you --bid something --bid any Thing --It is the first Article of Sale --I will make a kind of Present of it --I set it up at five Shillings --I set it up at five Pence --What the Devil is come over ye Neighbours; has Money and common Sense quitted the World together?
Ay, ay, thought all present, the Devil, the Devil! that is the Case indeed. And thus, our Orator might have been preaching, like Saint
Anthony
to the Fishes, till the Day of Doom; before any of his dumb Auditors would have returned a Word of Answer.
The Fact is that, as the Devil was a Personage, however respectable, with whom the well-meaning Inhabitants of this ancient Village did not choose to have any Manner of Dealings; neither desired to go Snacks, in Matters of Property, with Beings whom they held much wiser than themselves, and of whose Honesty they had but a very slender Opinion; these Agents of Mr.
Snarle
were obliged to return, just as rich as they came, their Reckoning deducted; and Mr.
Snarle
soon found himself under the Necessity of disposing of those, his questionable Commodities, at less than half Value to some
London
Undertakers. But, what he lost, in Point of Property, he gained in Matter of Morals; for he grew extremely cautious of adding to the Measure of his former Iniquities, for fear of another Visit from his recent Guests.
As Mr.
Fenton
could not but be frequently apprised of these Prodigies and Alarms, that kept all
Hamstead
waking, and nightly grouped every Family into a single Room. He compared, in his own Mind, the Discomfiture and Banishment of the unfortunate
Snarle,
with the Circumstances of the Provocation which
Ned
had received. He found that all answered, as well in Point of Time, as to
Ned
's natural Unluckiness and Talents at Invention. Yet he could scarce conceive how a Child, little more than eight Years of Age, should be capable of contriving Mischiefs, so formidable in the Execution, and so extensive in their Consequences. Now
Ned
was so happy, on this singular Occasion, that nothing transpired. Wherefore, as Mr.
Fenton
could produce no Manner of Proof, was too delicate to ask any Questions on the Case, lest, on one Hand, he should tempt the Boy into a Lye; or, on the other, be obliged to chastise, or check him for Faults that his Generosity might induce him to confess.
Matters, therefore, with Respect to
Ned,
preserved their State of Tranquillity; though Mr.
Fenton
would often view him with an Eye of Wonder and Suspicion; and could hardly bring himself to believe that a Boy of his extraordinary Genius, should be no other by Birth than a Beggar's Brat. But here, pardon me, Mr.
Fenton,
if I dissent from your Opinion. With humble Deference to your judgement in other Matters, I conceive that an Infant, begot on a Dunghill, brought forth in a Pigstye, and swathed with a rotten Remnant of the Covering of an Ass, may have Talents and Capacity above the Son of an Emperor.
The Singularity of your Sentiments often strikes me with Astonishment. Do you really think in a way apart from all other People? or is it a Distinction that you affect? Here you set yourself at Fistycuffs with universal Persuasion, with historical Facts, and with the Experience as well as Opinion of all Ages. You seem wholly to have forgot the Circumstances that attended the Birth and Discovery of
Cyrus,
of
O Edipus,
of
Romulus
and
Remus,
with a thousand other Instances, whereby it is evident, that the Beauty, Prowess, and Virtues, of great and glorious Ancestors, naturally devolve upon their Offspring.
The great Teutonic Theosopher,
Jacob Behmen,
affirms that a Father begets the Soul as well as Body of his Child; and this strongly coincides with your judgement of the Matter. All animal Nature also concurs in the same Position; and the Offspring of a Lion, an Eagle, and an Ass, invariably partake of the Qualities of their Progenitors.
In the very early Ages of Mankind; when Honour, and Empire, Precedence, and Station were assigned to superior Merit alone, to Prowess in the Field, or Wisdom in the Council; it is but natural to suppose that the more immediate Descendents, of such Heroes or Patriots, inherited, in a great Measure, the Beauty, Strength, Genius, and Disposition of those from whom they sprung. But some thousands of Years are now passed, my good Sir, since all this Matter has been totally reversed; and the World affords but very rare Instances, where
Washerwomen,
or
Shepherds,
where a
Catherine
of
Russia,
or
Kouli-Kan
of
Persia,
or
Theodore
of
Corsica,
by the mere Force of Genius, have raised themselves from Obscurity to Dominion. These Instances, also are very far from making any Thing in Favour of your Argument; though, unquestionably, were you to write their Romance, you would, agreeable to your Thesis, derive their respective Pedigree from the Queen's of
Utopia,
or some Emperors in
Terra australis incognita.
When Time was young, when Men were respected and advanced (as I said) according to their personal Distinctions and Accomplishments, uncommon Beauty, Strength, and Agility of Body, informed by superior Genius and Talents, were accounted genuine Proofs of a royal or noble Descent. But, in Process of Years, when Art had introduced Luxury, and Luxury had introduced Corruption among the Great, a feeble distempered Frame, informed by a perserse pusillanimous and impatient Temper, became an Indication, by no Means improbable of the genuine Descent of a Child of Quality.
My dear Friend, be cautious! to speak lightly or degradingly of Dignity and Station, does not become People of a certain Sphere.
With all Deference and due Submission, to those who sit in the Seat of
Moses,
or in the Throne of
Caesar,
when we speak as Philosophers, we should speak independent of vulgar Prejudice.
I am not insensible of that internal Respect which the World is pleased to pay to external Luftre. If one Man acquires a Crown, another a red Hat, and another a Coronet, by Means that deserved the Gibbet of
Haman;
they instantly become the presumptive Proprietors of I know not what Catalogue of fine Qualities and Accomplishments. Wherefore, as I am so singular, so perverse, or so unhappy, as to differ from the judgement of so wise a World in this Matter, it is the more incumbent upon me to bring Proofs that are self-evident, at the same Time that I treat so reverable a Subject with all possible Delicacy.
In the first Ages of ACORNS, when all that sustained the simple Nature of Man lay open and in common, like Light and Air; as People knew of nothing further that was to be had, they thought there was nothing further to be desired. As they had no Wishes they felt no Wants; and neither Pride, Envy, Covetousness, or Debauchery could commence, before they contrived the Distinctions of Property and Materials of Intemperance, and thereby contrived the Causes of Quarrel and Corruption.
But, as
Horace
says,
quum oppida caeperunt munire,
when they began to build, and set out Land-Marks, to plow and to sow, to spin and to weave, to handle the File and Hammer; in Proportion to the Advancement of Invention and Arts, on Necessity Convenience arose, upon Convenience Elegance, upon Elegance Luxury; new Desires increased and multiplied with the Means of Gratification; real Wishes became the Offspring of imaginary Wants; as those Wishes waxed warm the Passions were enkindled; and the Vices, lastly, grew in mathematical Proportion to the Growth of the Passions.
All Histories, as well profane as sacred, in every Age, in every Nation, and in every Instance, bear unquestionable Testimony to the above State of Facts. And hence ensues the Necessity of our growing worse and worse, till the Pinnacle of Art shall put a Limit to Desire, till Invention shall be exhausted, and no longer prolific of new Wants and additional Wishes in Man.
But, so long as untried Allurements, so long as untasted Pleasures, so long as new Objects can be set up to our Imagination in our eager Pursuit after Happiness on Earth, our Wishes will enflame our Impatience to reach the Prize; in Proportion to that Impatience our Endeavours will be exerted; in Proportion to such Exertion the Fences of Law and Morals will be broke through or trampled down; and, in Proportion to the Insufficiency of moral Restraints, all Sorts of Fraud and Violence, of Licentiousness and Corruption, of Debauchery and Profligacy must prevail throughout the World.
From what you say, I should conclude that People of Wealth, of Station and Power, are the least impassioned and the most virtuous of all living; forasmuch as they are already in Possession of what their Inferiors so earnestly continue to thirst, and to chafe, and to labour after. The Great are above Temptation; the World has nothing further to exhibit for their Seduction; and, in this Light also, they are become the most respectable of all People.
Whenever you can make it evident, that to humble the Spirit of Man, you ought to place him in Authority; that, to convince him of personal Defaults and Infirmities, you ought to enclose him with Sycophants and servile Dependents; that, to make him temperate, you should seat him at the Table of a
Lucullus;
and that, to humanize his Disposition, you should remove him as far as possible from a Sense of the Miseries of his fellow Creatures; when, to cure a Man of Distempers incident to his Nature, you would place him in the Midst of adventitious Contagion; then, and not till then, will Wealth, Station, and Power be productive of Reformation and Virtue in Man.
Your Error lay in supposing that sensual Appetite and spiritual Ambition would cease or abate on Gratification or Indulgence. But this is not possible. The Spirit of Man is a deathless Desire; its Cravings cannot be satiated till it is possessed of some Object that is adequate to its Nature: and, as this World has no such Object to exhibit, Gratifications only serve to provoke to further Desire, or finally to sink us into utter Despondence. And this makes the Moral that was intended by the Philosophers, when they fabled that the Son of
Philip
broke into a Passion of Tears, on finding that no more Worlds remained for him to conquer.
Your Pardon yet, I pray  With respect to your Opinion that the Descendents, of the Mighty and the Exalted, inherit the Qualities and Excellencies of their Progenitors, you speak as though this Earth and all that was thereon were invariably permanent; whereas the knowing-Ones will tell you that the one and the other are subject to annual, and even diurnal Revolutions.
Perhaps there is not a Beggar or Slave, upon Earth, whose sometime Progenitor was not a Prince or an Emperor. Perhaps there is not a Prince or Emperor, upon Earth, whose sometime Progenitor was not a Slave or a Beggar. Have you then the Discernment to perceive in the Beggar the Lineaments of the Prince, or in the Prince to retrace the Lineaments of the Beggar? You have not, sage Sir. I will tell you a Story.
The Cardinal
Campejius,
or some such great Cardinal, happened to have a Dispute with the Duke of
Modena.
Altercation rose high. Do you know, says the Prince in Passion, that your Father was no better than my Father's Hog-Herd? I know it full well, coolly answered the Cardinal; and I am persuaded that, had your Highness been the Son of my Father, you would have continued of the same Profession to this Day.
In such a World as this, all Things are in perpetual Change, Rotation and Revolution. It is Nature's Process. As the Summer and Winter gradually succeed and encroach upon Each-other; or, as the Sun dawns and arises from Darkness till he reaches the mid-day Fervour of his culminating Beam, and thence declines till he sets in utter Darkness; even so mighty Nations, as well as Families, have their Commencement, Ascent and Summit, Declension, Decay and Period. The Vertue of all Nations and Families begins in Poverty, thence arises to Industry, Genius, Honour, perhaps to Conquest and Empire, there's their Zenith. But then comes on the Load of ponderous Wealth that gradually weighs them down, from this Meridian, to Indulgence, Sensuality, Guilt, Corruption, Prostitution, Slavery, Perdition.
Let us now, with the Eye of Philosophy, consider two Men in the most contrasted State that this World can admit, suppose a King and a Beggar. Here, the King is more highly fed and more gaily clothed than the Beggar; but, if these are Advantages deserving Estimation, we behold both this Luxury and Lustre surpassed by the Bee in the Garden, and the Lily in the Valley. Further, whatever the native Qualities of the King or Beggar may be, independent of the said external or personal Distinctions; we may, however, be assured that an Education in the Midst of Sensuality and Deception, of the Exhibition of Temptations and Gratification of Lusts, of Parasites and Pandars, Obeisance and Prostration, of corporal Indulgence and mental Imposition, can be no very good Friend to the Virtues.
If we carry the Comparison further than this, we find the Body of the King to be as frail, as obnoxious to Pains, Disease and Inclemencies, even as naked, poor and perishable as that of the Beggar.
But, if we take the Eye of Faith, to see further than with that of Philosophy, we behold their Souls alike immortal, of equal Dignity and Extent. We see Creatures resembling the Creator himself, breathed from his own Spirit, formed in his own Image, and ordained to his own Beatitude and Eternity. Here, all other Distinctions fall away and lose their Respect, as an Instant would do in Comparison of Ages, or a Molehill in Comparison of yon boundless Expanse. And here, we find a Beggar whom the King, himself, is bound to reverence, as being the unquestioned Heir of a KING, in Comparision of whom all other Kings are but as Beggars. How utterly vile and contemptible is all Dignity and Dominion to such and Heirship as this! an Heirship hourly approaching, perhaps just at Hand; when the magnificent Ruin of Man shall be rebuilt, when his Weakness shall put on Power, his Corruption put on Glory, and his Mortal be wholly swallowed up of Immortality!
I confess that, for once, you have convinced me. Give me Leave to proceed.
CHAP. XI.
SOME Time after this, Mr.
Fenton
privately took
Ned
into his Closet, and calling him a good Boy, and giving him a few Shillings to buy Play-Things, desired him to give the best History he could remember, of himself and his Adventures, before he met with
Harry.
Sir, says
Ned,
the first Thing that I remember of myself, is my going from House to House a begging with my Mammy. I dreamed indeed that I was once in a fine House, and among fine People, but I don't know where nor when, and so I believe, as I say, it was only a Dream.
Do you remember your Daddy,
Ned?
no, Sir, I never had a Daddy, that I know of. My Mammy was very cross to me, and used to take from me all the Money and Victuals that I begged; and that was a great deal, for I never let People rest till they gave me something. And so Sir, as I was saying, my Mammy was very cross to me, and used to half starve me, and gave me a Beating for every Hour in the Day.
Did she teach you your Prayers,
Ned?
no Sir, I believe she had no Prayers to teach me; for she used to swear and scold sadly. And so, Sir, as I was telling you, we begged from House to House, sometimes in a Town, and sometimes in the Country; till the Day she run away from me.
How came your Mammy to run away from you,
Ned?
why Sir, we were begging in your Town, and had got some Halfpence and filled our Bag, when my Mammy took up a Child at the Town's End, and run with it till she got into the next Fields. The Child, Sir, cried sadly, and my Mammy went so fast that I could not keep up with her, do my best. And so, we heard a Man shouting behind us, and my Mammy turned and saw him running after her very fast; and so she threw down the Child and her great Bag on the Ground, and made the best of her way to the next Hedge, and got through it, Sir, and so I never saw any more of her.
What became of the Child,
Neddy?
when the Man, Sir, came up, he lifted it off the Ground, and he kissed it a great many times, and made it quiet; and I'm thinking he was so glad to see it, he took no Notice of me; howsomever, he took up my Mammy's great Bag, and turned back and went the way he came. Then, Sir, I fell a crying and roaring terribly, to be left all alone, and to have Nobody in the World who would have any Thing to say to me; and I wished for my Mammy again, bad as she was to me. And I strove to follow her thro' the Hedge but wasn't't able. And so, I saw a great House on one Side; and I was very sad when I went to it; and there it was that I met my own young Master; and he put clothes upon me with his own dear Hands; and he took me to himself; and he is ever since so kind to me, that it troubles me very much; for I can do nothing at all for him, you know, Sir, and that grieves me more than all the World.
Well
Neddy,
says Mr.
Fenton,
don't cry my Child. Be a good Boy, and mind your Book, and be sure you tell no Lies, nor do Mischief to any Body; and I will take Care of you, and be a Father to you myself. But tell me,
Ned,
would you know the Woman you call your Mammy, if you should see her again? yes, yes, Sir, cried
Ned.
There wasn't't a Day of my Life but she gave me Reason to remember her; I should know her from all the World, if I wasn't't to see the Face of her for a hundred Years to come.
I find,
Ned,
you are not over fond of your Mammy. No indeed, Sir, answered
Ned,
I love Master
Harry
's little Finger, and I would love yourself if I dare, Sir, better than a thousand such Mammies as mine was; and that I suppose is very naughty; for all good Children, they say, love their Fathers and Mothers. Well
Ned,
says Mr.
Fenton,
if you happen at any Time to see her, among the great Number of Beggars that come to our Door; don't you speak to her, or show that you take the least Notice of her; but come and tell me, or honest
James
in my Absence, that we may take Care of her, and force her to confess whether she is, in reality, your Mother or not.
While Mr.
Fenton
was speaking,
Andrew
entered with Tidings that a Chariot was overturned, not twenty Yards from the Door, and that he feared the People in it were much hurt. Mr.
Fenton
's Humanity was much alarmed at the News; he ordered the Servants to follow him, and instantly hurried out to give all the Assistance he could to the Strangers.
The Chariot happened to be overturned, by the slipping out of one of the Linchpins that kept the Wheel on the Axletree. The Company had already got out. They were an agreeable young Couple, Mr.
Fielding
and his Wife, who had come from
London
on purpose to take an Airing on the Hill. Mrs.
Fielding
had suffered nothing, except from her Fears; but Mr.
Fielding
's Right Arm was something bruised, by his endeavouring to preserve his Lady in the Fall.
Mr.
Fenton
appeared the greatest Sufferer of the three, and addressed the Strangers with a Countenance that convinced them how feelingly he was interested in their Safety. He left
Andrew
to have the Chariot set to Rights; and, having conducted his new Guests to his own House, he ordered up a Bottle of Sack and some Naple Cakes to the Parlour.
When they were all seated, and the Glass had gone round; I find, Sir, said Mr.
Fielding,
that People are apt to be disgusted with what they call Accidents, and which may afterwards turn out to their greatest Advantage. Perhaps I should never have known what true Humanity was, if our Carriage had not been overturned this Day. If you knew all, said Mr.
Fenton,
with a tender Bluntness, you would be far from laying any Humanity at my Door, since I rejoice at an Accident, where the Damage is all yours, and the Advantage that arises from it is all my own.
I'd hold Fifty to one, cried Mrs.
Fielding,
that this is the very Mr.
Fenton
we have heard so much about. Indeed Madam, said Mr.
Fenton,
you surprise me much; if I had the Pleasure of ever knowing you, there is something in that Face I should not have readily forgot.
No, Sir, said Mrs.
Fielding,
I speak from Information. I never had the Happiness of being known to you, till now. We have a Fosterer in this Village,
Rose Jenkins,
a poor Widow, one of those many Persons you have down on your List. She was Nurse to our only Child, while he lived and was with us, she was a constant Visitant; but, as soon, as soon as  Here Mrs.
Fielding
hesitated, her Lip trembled, and her Eye glistened with a filling Tear  I say, Sir, as soon as a very sad Affair happened; the poor Woman came near us no more. One Day, as we were taking the Air through this Town, I thought I saw a Face that was familiar to me. I called to the Coachman to stop. It was my old Nurse. She had a Family of small Children, and had fallen sadly to Decay before you came, Mr.
Fenton,
to settle in the Town. I chide her for becoming a Stranger to us. Ah, Madam, said the kind Creature, the Tears bursting from her Eyes, how could I go near a Place where every Thing would put me in mind of my dear lost Child  she still continued to weep  and I  wept for Company  I put a Guinea in her Hand, and insisted on her coming to see us. She did so. It was then, Mr.
Fenton,
that we learned your Name and Character. And you must expect the Mortification, now and then, of hearing a little of those many Things that are spoken to your Advantage. I am sorry, Madam, said Mr.
Fenton,
that my Nothings should be talked of; lest it should intimate that other People are less ostentatious.
Mrs.
Fielding
was still affected by what she had been saying. And, though Mr.
Fenton
wished to know what the sad Affair was at which she had hinted, he declined asking any Questions, for fear of renewing her Affliction.
Mr. and Mrs.
Clement
had walked abroad, upon a Visit, with their Pupil
Harry.
So that Mr.
Fenton
and his Friend
Ned,
with Mr. and Mrs.
Fielding,
made the whole of the present Company.
You are happily situated, Sir, says Mr.
Fielding.
I blame myself and all others, who have any Independence, and yet live in a City. Health, Pleasure, and Spirits are all for the Country. Did any Poets or Philosophers ever place their golden Aeras, or golden Scenes, amidst such a Town as
London?
a Man can scarce be himself, he is confused and dissipated by the Variety of Objects and Bustle that surrounds him. In short, Sir, I am like many others, the reverse in Persuasion of what I am in Practice, I live in a City, although I detest it. It is true that I am fond of Society and Neighbourhood, but Experience has shown me that
London
is not the Place in which I can enjoy it.
No Sir, said Mr.
Fenton,
if I was a Lover of Solitude, if I wished to be the most recluse of all Anchorites that bid adieu to the Commerce of Mankind, I would choose
London
for my Cell. It is in such a City alone, that a Man may keep wholly unknown and unnoticed. He is there, as a Hailstone amidst a great Shower, he jumps and bustles about awhile, then lies snug among his Fellows, without being any more observed than if he were not upon Earth, till he melts away and vanishes with the rest of his Fraternity.
I am not for a Cell, Sir, replied Mr.
Fielding.
I love Society, but yet a Society that is founded in Friendship; and People, in great Cities, are so divided and dissipated by the Multitude of solliciting Objects and Acquaintance, that they are rendered incapable of a particular Attachment. I imagine, however, that in a well peopled and civilized Part of the Country, a Man might make an Election of Persons deserving his Esteem, such as he would wish to live with in a happy Interchange of kind Offices and Affections. This indeed is my Plan for my Remainder of Life; but the Lawsuits, in which I am at present involved, will not permit me to go in search of my
Utopia.
At Law! exclaimed Mr.
Fenton;
then Sir, you are much to be blamed, or much to be pitied.
I hope, rather to be pitied than blamed, rejoined Mr.
Fielding.
Four Suits descended to me on the Part of my own Father, and three on the Part of the Father of my Wife; and my Adversaries, on all Sides, are such Cocks of the Game, that no Overtures can induce them to listen to any Terms of Compromise or Accommodation.
If Matters of Wealth or Property, said Mr.
Fenton,
are really Matters of valuable Estimation in Life, it is much to be lamented that there is no Place, on Earth, wherein Property can be said to be fixed or ascertained. Throughout the Regions of
Mahomet,
and
Asiatic
Despotism, Life and Property are, alike, Tenures at the Will of the Ruler. Again, throughout the
European
Continent, no Man, indeed, no Nation can be assured of their Possessions, exposed as they are to the Ambition and Avarice of their almost perpetually invading Neighbours. Lastly in these Northern Islands, whose Defence Nature herself appears to have undertaken, by a Guardianship of circling Rocks and Seas; this does not however defend us from intestine Convulsions and Changes. Think, what a general Change of Property has been made, in
Great Britain,
during the two very late Revolutions; I am told that, in a neighbouring Country, the Alienation has been nearly universal; perhaps a third Revolution is also at Hand.
It is affirmed that the civil Constitution of
England
is the best calculated for the Security of Liberty and Property, of any that was ever framed by the Policy of Man; and originally, perhaps, it might have been so; when twelve simple and impartial Men were appointed for the speedy Trial and Determination of Life and Property.
Our Ancestors, unquestionably, were at that Time unblessed by the liberal and learned Profession of the
Long-Robe;
they would not otherwise have committed the Disposition of Property (a Matter held so much more valuable than that of Life) to a few Men, who could have no
Virtue
under Heaven to recommend them, save the two illiterate Qualities of
Common Sense
and
Common Honesty.
Those were Ages of mental Darkness and no Way illumined, as we are, by those immense and immaculate Volumes of refined and
legal Metaphysics,
that now press the Shelves of the Learned, and are read with such Delight. A Man, in those Times, had no Play for his Money; he was either strippedor enrich'd of a sudden; whereas now, in the worst Cause, Hope is left during Life; and Hope is said to be the greatest Cordial in this Vale of
human Controversy.
It is greatly to be lamented that the learned, in our Laws, are not as immortal as the Suits for which they are retained. It were therefore to be wished that an Act of Parliament might be especially passed for that Purpose; a Matter no way impracticable, considering the great Interest those Gentlemen have in the House. In Truth it seems highly expedient, that an Infinity of Years should be assigned to each Student of the
Belles Lettres
of our Laws, to enable them to read over that Infinity of Volumes which have already been published; to say nothing of the Infinity that are yet to come, which will be held equally Necessary for understanding the Profession, of critically distinguishing, and oratorically expatiating on Law against Law, Case against Case, Authority against Authority, Precedent against Precedent, Statute against Statute, and Argument against Reason.
In Matters of no greater Moment than Life and Death, Juries, as at the Beginning, are still permitted to enter directly on the Hearing and Decision. But, in Matters so sacred as that of Property, our Courts are extremely cautious of
too early
an Error in judgement. In order therefore to sift and boult them to the very Bran, they are delivered over to the Lawyers, who are, equally, the Affirmers and Disputers, the Pleaders and Impleaders, Representers and Misrepresenters, Explainers and Confounders of our Laws. Our Lawyers, therefore, maintain their Right of being paid for their Ingenuity in putting and holding all Properties in Debate. Debated Properties, consequently, become the Properties of the Lawyers, as long as Answers can be given to Bills, or Replies to Answers, or Rejoinders to Replies, or Rebutters to Rejoinders; as long as the Battledors can strike and bandy, and till the Shuttle-cock falls of itself to the Ground.
Soberly and seriously speaking,
English Property,
when once debated, is merely a
Carcass of Contention
upon which interposing Lawyers fall, as customary Prize and Prey during the Combat of the Claimants. While any Flesh remains on a Bone, it continues a Bone of Contention. But, so soon as the learned Practitioners have picked it quite clean; the Battle is over, and all again is Peace and settled Neighbourhood.
It is worthy of much Pleasantry and shaking of Sides to observe that, in intricate, knotty, and extremely perplexing Cases, where the Sages of the Gown and Coif are so puzzled as not to know what to make of the Matter; they then bequeath it to the Arbitration and Award of two or three plain Men; or by Record, to the judgement of twelve simply honest Fellows who, casting aside all Regard to the Form of Writs and Declarations, to the Lapse of Monosyllables, verbal Mistakes and Misnomers, enter at once upon the Pith and Marrow of the Business, and in three Hours determine, according to Equity and Truth, what had been suspending in the dubious Scales of Ratiocination, Quotation, Altercation, and pecuniary Consideration, for three and twenty Years.
Neither do I see any Period to the Progress of this Evil; the Avenue still opens and leads on to further Mischiefs. For the Distinctions in Law are, like the Newtonian Particles of Matter,
divisible ad infinitum.
They have been dividing and subdividing for some Centuries past, and the Subdivisions are as likely to be subdividing for ever; insomuch that Law, thus divisible, debateable, and delayable, is become a greater Grievance than all that it was intended to redress.
I lately asked a pleasant Gentleman of the Coif, if he thought it possible for a poor Man to obtain a Decree, in Matter of Property, against a rich Man? he smiled and answered, according to Scripture, that
with Man it was impossible, but that all Things were possible to God.
I suppose he meant, that the Decrees of the Courts of
Westminster
were hereafter to be reversed.
Perhaps Sir, said Mr.
Fielding,
neither our Laws nor our Lawyers are so much to blame as the People who apply to them for Protection, for Justice, Satisfaction, or Revenge. Might not the Parties, who adventure on the Course of Litigation, begin where they are most likely to end their Career, in the Award of a few Persons, or a Verdict of twelve Neighbours?
But the Nature of Man is prone to Contention and Quarrel. There is a certain Portion of yeast or Fermentation in his Mass that will have Vent in some Way, and our Courts of Law are the most obvious Receptacles for the Ebullitions of Pride, Avarice, Envy, Resentment, and Wrathfulness, the Insolences of Temper, and Overflowings of Fortune.
Mr.
Scruple,
an Attorney, a very singular Man in his Way, was lately recommended to me, as a Person equally qualified for alluring or compelling my litigating Opponents to an Accommodation. And he told me an exceeding pleasant Story, as well respecting the Process and Forms of our Courts of Law, as respecting the contentious Disposition of our Neighbours.
Some Time since,
Walter Warmhouse,
a substantial Farmer in
Essex,
was advised, by Sergeant
Craw,
that he had an unquestionable right to a certain Tenement in the Possession of
Barnaby Boniface,
his next Neighbour and Gossip, who fattened by the dint of good Ale and good Humour.
Barnaby,
who equally hated Debate and dry Bowels, offered to leave the Matter, in question, to any honest Neighbours of
Walter
's own choosing; but
Walter,
proud of a weighty Opinion and as weighty a Purse, rejected the proffered Compromise with Scorn, and took a mortal Aversion to honest
Barnaby
because he refused to surrender his Possessions on demand.
Walter Warmhouse
accordingly began the Attack, in Form. But Mr.
Scruple,
who had the uncommon Conscience to remember that
Barnaby
had once recovered his Purse from a Highway-Man, determined as far as possible to preserve the Property of his old Friend. For this Purpose he kept warily and cheaply on the defensive; and, while he held a watchful Eye over the Motions of the Adversary, he followed him close through a thirteen Years Labyrinth of Law-Forms; and, what with Exceptions to Bills and Replies, expensive Commissions for Examination of Witnesses, Demurrer, Imparlance and Essoign; with Hearings, and Rehearings, Defer of Issue thereon, Costs of Suit and Costs of Office; he pretty nearly exhausted both the Purse and the Patience of the valorous Plaintiff
Walter Warmhouse.
Whereupon his prudent Patron, the good Sergeant
Craw,
deemed it high time to consent to a Motion for referring the Case to the Arbitration and Award of certain Umpires, though not of his Client's choosing, as at first proposed.
Soon after this Order, Sergeant
Craw
had occasion to travel to the farther Parts of
Essex,
and his Road led to the Concerns of his old Client
Walter Warmhouse.
Here,
Walter
happened to meet him, and warned him of the manifold
Dangers of the Way,
and of
the Numbers of Thieves and Highwaymen that infested the Passages that lay just before him.
And pray then, very smoothly says the Sergeant, is there no way through your Fields Mr.
Warmhouse?
there is, Sir, said
Warmhouse,
as good as any in
England.
And may I not be permitted to pass? Most safely, and a thousand welcomes.
Hereupon, Client
Warmhouse
opened the Gate that led from the Road into the Fields, and in issued the Equipage of his learned Advocate and kind Patron.
Goodman
Warmhouse
was mounted on a round ambling Nag, and rode much at his Ease by the Chariot of his
Malefactor.
They chatted, as they went, about the Prices of Cattle and Improvement of Lands, the Fall and Rise of Grain, the Necessity of Industry; and above all, of the Advantage of good Enclosures, which, as the Sergeant observed, were Emblems of the
English
Laws, and secured every Man's Property from Question or Encroachment.
While thus they beguiled the Way,
Walter
led his respectable Patron through this Field and that Field, and through you Gate and the other Gate; and now went a' Head like a Fox, and now doubled like a Hare; till, having mazed it and circled it for the Space of three Hours, he finally conducted the Sergeant to the very Gate at which he had first entered.
How, how! exclaims the Sergeant, methinks we are just where we set out; we have not gained an Inch of Ground by the many Miles we have travelled!
Quite as much, replied
Walter,
in a Journey of three Hours, as your Honour gained for me in a Journey of thirteen Years; and I leave you, as you left me --just where you found me.
Your Story, cried Mr.
Fenton,
is as pleasant as it is apt, and reminds me of an Observation, made by
Harry the 4th of France,
that is equally pertinent to the Subject.
A certain Judge of a Court of Law, in that Kingdom, had grown aged on the Bench, and honoured by the innumerable Sentences which he had passed, and which were all deemed conformable to the most perfect Measure and Dispensation of Equity. The Gainers of the several Suits applauded his Discernment and Justice to the Skies; and even the Losers allowed that they had no right to complain. The Fame of his Wisdom and Integrity reached the Throne; the Monarch was curious to see a Judge of so peculiar a Cast and Character; and he sent for him under Colour of thanking him for the great Honours which he had done to his Regency.
After a most gracious Reception, and some Compliments at the Levee, the Prince took him apart and in Confidence said.
  My Lord Judge, the infinite Complaints that come before me from all Parts of the Kingdom, respecting the erroneous or iniquitous Sentences daily passed by your Fraternity, cast the highest Lustre on the Singularity of your Conduct, and give me an eager Curiosity to know by what Measures you have been enabled to content all Parties. I adjure you then, by all that you reverence, to disguise nothing from me on this Head. You have not any thing to fear from my Censure of Means that have proved so very successful, and you have all things to hope from my Approbation.    
The Judge, thereupon, cast himself at the Feet of his Prince and, rising, addressed him thus.
To you, my Sovereign, as to Heaven, I will open my whole Soul.    In the first Place, in order to enable myself to give a Guess whether the Judgments, to be pronounced, might be right or wrong, I gave all possible Attention to the Merits of each Case during the Process; I daily took Minutes of the Pleadings on either Side; I enlarged and commented on those Minutes while Matters were fresh in my Memory; and I never interrupted any Cause, till it had run itself out of Breath through the Circuit of Forms and due Course of Law.
In the next Place, may it please your Majesty, I never took Bribe or Present of any Kind, or from any Hand; lest Favour or Inclination should insensibly tempt me to
cogg,
or give
a partial Turn to the final Cast.
Thus prepared, as soon as Matters were ripe for a Decree; that is to say, as soon as the respective Lawyers had agreed among themselves, that
nothing more was to be said,
nor any Thing
more to be got,
on either Side of the Question; I summed up the repugnant Merits so equally and impartially, with respect to Circumstance, Evidence, and Ordinance of Law, as induced both Parties, now wearied and wishing for Rest, to think that the Decree must inevitably be given against themselves; and having appointed a certain Hour for uttering the fatal Sentence, I got up under visible Concern, and retired.
From the Bench, so please your Graciousness, I withdrew to my Closet, and having locked myself up, I called upon my tutelary and never erring Directors in the solution of all Knots and unwinding of all Intricacies; in short I went to a little Drawer and took out   
my Box and Dice.
Box and Dice! exclaimed the Monarch, Half starting from his Seat. Yes, Sire, replied the Judge, I repeat it, Box and Dice. And if your Majesty will be pleased to attend, for a few Moments, I trust to convince you of the Propriety of this Proceeding.
Humanum est errare.
This, my Liege, is a Maxim that has never yet been controverted by Precept or by Practise; and it is as much as to say, that Life is a mere Labyrinth of Errors, in which all Men are appointed to travel, and to stray.
Nothing, save Number and Measure, is yet determined upon Earth. Nothing is certain, save that two and two make four, and that Lines are equal or differ according to their Dimensions.
All Men, further than this, depend upon
Reason,
as their Enlightner and Director in the Search of Truth. And yet Reason, itself, has nothing whereon it may rest or depend. It first doubts, and then proceeds to examine. It calls in Evidence and Arguments, on this Side and on that Side,
pro
and
con.
It compares, canvasses, and discusses; sifts and boults Matters, suppose to the very Bran. It endeavours to poise the Scales of its own Uncertainty, and now recovers some lapsed Circumstance, and casts it into this Scale; and again throws some new Proof or Discovery into that Scale; and so changes its Opinion from Day to Day. While Prejudice and Partiality stand invisibly at its Elbow, and at length determine the long suspended Balance, by casting their own Weights into one Scale or the other, according as Interest or Pleasure would wish to preponderate.
Truth, so please your Supremacy, has been sunk in so very deep a Well, as to mock the five-inched Fathom of mere human Ratiocination; whether it be a Dealer or Retailer of Physic or Metaphysics; of the Distinctions in Law, or the Distinctions in Philosophy. And I flatter myself that I alone, the least and most unlikely of all your Majesty's Subjects, have hit upon a Method for fishing up Truth, by a Line which I acknowledge is not of my own twisting.
Within my Memory and, nearly, within that of your Majesty, particular Laws have been in Force for
Trial by Combat,
and
Trial by Ordeal;
and though, at present, those Laws are held to have been iniquitous and wholly absurd, they could not have been instituted without just and ponderous Reasons. They related, my Liege, as my Sentences do, to the Interposition of Providence in the
Jewish Lots;
whereby all Doubts, however general, could be speedily ascertained; where the Nation drew Lots according to Tribes, the Tribes according Families, and the Families by Individuals, till the Criminal was detected.
Thus, in Trial by Combat, I have known and read of manifold Instances, wherein guilty Courage and Prowess have been foiled by the Weak and Fearful. And, in Trial by Ordeal, Heaven never failed to guide the Steps of the hoodwinked Innocent between the narrow Intervals of the burning Plowshares. And thus, conscious of my own Infirmity and Blindness, I have referred all my Decrees to a Power of better Discernment, and he never failed to determine according to Truth.
Indeed, said the Monarch, I cannot wholly disapprove your Method, when I reflect on your Motive. And, according to your Account, when I think on the Plague and Anxiety, Loss of Time and Loss of Fortune, to which my Subjects are put by these Professors of the Law; you have clearly convinced me, my good Lord Judge, that it would be INFINITELY BETTER TO CAST DICE AT THE BEGINNING, THAN TO GIVE THE MOST RIGHTEOUS JUDGMENT AT THE END OF ANY LAW-SUIT.
WHILE the Gentlemen were thus plunged in the bottomless Gulf of the Law, Mrs.
Fielding
beckoned
Ned
to a remote Part of the Room, and was greatly taken with his lively and innocent Chat.
Pray, Mr.
Fenton,
said she, is this your Son? No Madam, said Mr.
Fenton,
we know not to whom he belongs, poor Fellow; and I am persuaded, from many Circumstances, that he was stolen, in his Infancy, from his true Parents.
Mrs.
Fielding
instantly coloured like Scarlet; and, casting at her Husband an eager and animated Look, gracious Heaven! she exclaimed, who knows, my Dear, but this may be our precious, our lost and long lamented Boy, to whom Providence this Day has so wonderfully conducted us?
Madam, said Mr.
Fenton,
it is thought that Hundreds of Children are yearly spirited away from their Parents, by Gipsies, by Beggars to excite Charity, and by Kidnappers to carry to the Plantations; but I hear of very few that ever have been restored, except in Romance. Pray, had you any particular Memorandum or Mark whereby you would know him to be your Child, on the Presumption of his being found?
Alas, no Sir, said Mrs.
Fielding;
he was scarce two Year old when his Nurse got Leave to go and see, a Relation, the only Visit, poor Woman that she made from the Time she took my Child to the Breast. She left him in the Care of the House Maid, who used to caress him with particular Tenderness. He stood with her at the Door; some one called her in suddenly; but, quickly returning, my Child was gone!
Ah! could the Wretches who took him have guessed at the Heart-rending Anguish which that Loss cost me, it were not in the Nature of Barbarians, of Brutes, of Fiends themselves to have imagined a Deed of such Deadliness. For three Days and Nights, Life hovered like a Flame that was just departing, and was only retained by my frequentâª and long Swoonings that, for a Time, shut up all Sense and Recollection. Neither do I think that my dear Husband suffered much less than myself, however he might constrain and exert his Spirits to keep up, as it were, some Appearance of Manliness.
We dispatched Cryers throughout the City, and through all the neighbouring Towns, with Offers of vast Recompence to any who should discover and restore our Child to us; and we continued, for Years, to advertise him in all the public Papers. But alas, he must have been taken by some very illiterate Wretches who could not read, and who never heard of the Rewards that were offered, their own Interest must otherwise have engaged them to return him. Pray, Mr.
Fenton,
how did you come by this pretty Boy?
Here,
Ned
assisted Mr.
Fenton
to give a Detail, respecting himself, of the Circumstances already recited; and Mr.
Fenton
mentioned the Precaution he had taken for seizing his former Mammy, if ever she should make her Appearance.
If Heaven should ever bless me with more Children, said Mr.
Fielding,
I have determined to fix some indelible Mark upon them, such as that of the
Jerusalem-Letters,
that, in case of Accident, I may be able to discover and ascertain my own Offspring from all others. Such a Precaution, said Mr.
Fenton,
is more especially incumbent on those who send their Children abroad to be nursed; where it is so practicable for Fosterers to impose a living Infant in the Place of one who has died; or, by an Exchange, to prefer a Child of their own to an Inheritance; for the Features of Infancy generally change to a Degree that shortly leaves no Trace of the original Cast of Countenance; and it is common with Parents to leave their Children at Nurse, for Years, without seeing or renewing the Memory of their Aspects.
Mr.
Fenton,
says Mrs.
Fielding,
will you give me your Interest in this sweet Foundling? I will regard him as my own Child, I will be good to him for the Sake of the one I have lost. Tell me, my Dear, will you come and live with me? --What say you
Ned,
says Mr.
Fenton,
would you like to go and live with that Lady? O Sir, cried
Ned,
could I find in my Heart to leave Master
Harry
and you, to be sure I would give the World to be with this dear Lady. So saying, he catch'd at her Hand and pressed it eagerly to his Lips. Mrs.
Fielding
found herself surprised and agitated by this Action, and, taking him in her Arms, and repeatedly kissing him, the Gush of Passion which she had sometime suppressed broke forth, and she shed a plenteous Shower of Tears upon him.
Word being now brought that the Chariot was put to Rights, and at the Door; Mr. and Mrs.
Fielding
took a tender Farewel of Mr.
Fenton
and
Ned,
and set off for
London.
As we propose, after the Manner of the celebrated
Vertot,
to drop all the heavy and inanimate Parts of our History, and to retain nothing but the Life and Spirit thereof; we take the Liberty to pass over a few Months, during which nothing material happened, save that our
Harry
increased in Stature, and in all personal and mental Accomplishments.
It was the latter End of August, the Weather fair and pleasant, when
Harry
issued forth to his little
Campus martius,
accompanied by
Neddy
and the faithful
James.
He was there met by his customary Companions in Arms, and they had nearly settled their Courses and Exercises for the Evening, when a young Phoenomenon of Nobility made his Appearance, like a Phoenix among the vulgar Birds, attended by two Servants in flaming Liveries.
All the Boys, except
Harry,
and
Ned
who kept close to him, immediately approached the glittering Stranger and paid their Respects with Admiration and a kind of awkard Obeisance; while
Harry
eyed him askance, with a half sullen and half disdainful Regard, and, notwithstanding the native Benevolence of his Temper, felt no kind of Complacence in his Bosom toward him.
The young Nobleman, to make a parade of his Wealth, and at the same Time to indulge his Petulance of Disposition, took a Handful of Sixpences and Shillings from his Pocket and, throwing them among the Crew, cried, a Scramble Boys, a Scramble!
Hereupon a Scuffle royal instantly ensued. All of them, save three, eagerly grappled at the Pieces that had fixed their Eye; while each at the same Time seized and struggled with his Fellow. Our Hero, mean while, observed all that passed with a distingushing Attention. But, as the Cause of Quarrel was quickly conveyed from Sight, nothing worse happened than a few Trips and Boxes, to which the Parties had been accustomed, and therefore did not resent; insomuch that my Lord was wholly defeated of the benevolent Intention of his Generosity, and looked upon himself as defrauded of his Coin.
To compensate this Disappointment, and to make surer, for the future, of his dearly beloved Mischief; he took a Crown-Piece from his Pocket, and holding it up to the full View of the Assembly, he proclaimed it as the Prize of Victory between any two, who should step forth on the Spot, and engage in a Boxing Match. At the Word an unknown Champion sprung forward, instantly stripped, and challenged the Field.
This unknown had arrived but that very Morning, with his Parents who came to settle at the Village. He was by Nature a very valiant but very quarrelsome Boy; he had consequently been engaged in a Number of occasional Combats, wherein he had generally come off victorious; and this gave him as full an Assurance of Conquest as though his Brow had already received the Wreath.
The Stranger in Bulk and Stature exceeded the Field, and no one had yet offered himself an Antagonist; when
Harry
stepping up, thus addressed him in a gentle but admonishing Accent.
I find, Sir, you are a Stranger; you are therefore to be excused for behaving amiss, as you are yet unacquainted with the Laws of this Place. But I must now be so free to inform you that, whoever quarrels here or boxes for Money, must afterwards take a Turn with me for nothing. As well before as after, briskly replied the Adversary; but I scorn to take you at an Advantage, prepare yourself and strip! you must first show me, rejoined
Harry,
that you are worth stripping for.
The unknown instantly fired at what he held to be a boastful Insult, and, leaping forward, aimed a Punch at
Harry
's Stomach, with all his Force. When
Harry,
nimbly catching the right Wrist of his Adversary in his left Hand, and giving him, at the same Instant, a sudden Trip with his right Foot, and a Stroke across the Neck with his right Arm; the strange Hero's Heels flew up, and his Shoulders and Head came with a Squelch to the Earth.
As this unfortunate Champion lay, astonished, dismayed, and wholly disqualified by his Fall from further Contention;
Harry
generously stepped forward and offered to raise him. But, turning from him, he painfully and slowly arose, and muttering something not intelligible, he walked away with a sullen but much abased Motion.
Harry
's Companions, hereat, began to set up a Cry of Triumph and Derision after the vanquish'd. But
Harry
suddenly stopped them and cried, for Shame, my Friends! he is a brave Boy and deserves to be honoured, though a Stranger to our Ways; and I hope, in my Heart, that he mayn't be hurt, nor discouraged from coming among us any more.
Our young Nobleman, mean while, had observed all that passed, and considered our Hero with an envious and indignant Attention; when
Harry,
calling to him the three Boys who had declined to partake of the Scramble for my Lord's Money; my good Boys, cries he aloud, you had the Honour to refuse to Quarrel and Tear your Companions and Friends to Pieces, for the dirty Matter of a few Sixpences, and the first Part of your Reward shall be many Sixpences.
So saying, he put his Hand in his Pocket and, taking out three Crowns, made a Present of one to each. Then, feeling a secret Touch of self Approbation, he turned to my Lord's Servants and addressed them, in an Accent, and with an Action rather too highly elevated. Go, he cried, my Friends, take your young Master home to his Father and Mother; and tell them, from me, that, since they have already made him a LORD, I wish the next thing they do, would be to make him a GENTLEMAN!
What, you Scoundrel, cried my Lord, do you tell me, to my Face, that I am not a Gentleman? and, flying instantly at
Harry,
he gave him a smart Stroke on the left Cheek.
Harry
had just begun to recollect his Error. But, being again kindled to quick Resentment, he half repressed and half enforced a sudden Paunch which he reached at the Nose of his Lordship, who, giving a Scream, fell backward, and measured his Length on the Field.
The two Servants immediately stooped to raise their bleeding Master; and one of them, highly exasperated to see his Lord in that Condition, turned furiously upon
Harry
in order to chastise him. But
Jack Freeman,
his fellow Servant, strait caught him by the Arm, crying, hold
Patrick,
hold! remember
fair Play
and
Old England!
So saying, he suddenly stopped, caught at our Hero's Hand, pressed it warmly to his Lips, and cried, O, my noblest Child, how I envy the Happiness of those who serve you! then turning, he took his Lord by the Hand, and straight led him away from the Field of Battle.
Appropo', to your turning a Lord into a Gentleman. When your Hero gave that just though over haughty Reproof to the Insolence and Petulance of the gay Stranger, had he not a clear Conception of the Character of your true Gentleman?
If he had not a positive, yet you see he had a negative Apprehension of the Matter. If he could not say what it was to be  yet he could tell you what it was, not to be a Gentleman. And he clearly perceived that neither Finery, Grandeur of Equipage, Title, Wealth, superior Airs, Affectation of Generosity, neither a Mischief-making Temper, nor a taking of Delight in the Broils, Conflicts, Passions, and Pains of others, were any constituent Qualities in this reverable Character.
I beseech you then, at this Interval, to satisfy my Impatience, and to make good your Promise that you would give me a Detail of the Qualities that entitle a Man to this Supreme of Denominations.
That perhaps may be done, with better Effect to the Understanding as well as the Heart, by instancing and exemplifying, rather than defining.
It has already been intimated that
Hector
was the finest Gentleman of whom we read in History, and
Don Quixote
the finest Gentleman we read of in Romance; as was instanced from the Tenour of their Principles and Actions.
Some Time after the Battle of
Cressy, Edward
the Third of
England,
and
Edward
the
Black Prince,
the more than Heir of his Father's Renown, pressed
John
King of
France
to indulge them with the Pleasure of his Company at
London. John
was desirous of embracing the Invitation, and accordingly laid the Proposal before his Parliament at
Paris.
The Parliament objected that the Invitation had been made with an insidious Design of seizing his Person, thereby to make the cheaper and easier Acquisition of the Crown, to which
Edward
at that Time pretended. But
John
replied, with some Warmth, that he was confident his Brother
Edward,
and more especially his young Cousin, were too much of the GENTLEMAN to treat him in that Manner. He did not say too much of the King, of the Hero, or of the Saint, but too much of the GENTLEMAN to be guilty of any Baseness.
The Sequel verified this Opinion. At the Battle of
Poictiers
King
John
was made Prisoner, and soon after conducted by the
Black Prince
to
England.
The
Prince
entered
London
in Triumph, amid the Throng and Acclamations of Millions of the People. But then this rather appeared to be the Triumph of the
French
King than that of his Conqueror.
John
was seated on a proud Steed, royally robed and attended by a numerous and gorgeous Train of the
British
Nobility; while his Conqueror endeavoured, as much as possible, to disappear, and rode by his Side, in plain Attire, and degradingly seated on a little
Irish
Hobby.
As
Aristotle
and the
Critics
derived their Rules, for Epic Poetry and the Sublime, from a Poem which
Homer
had written long before any Rules were formed, or Laws established for the Purpose. Thus, from the Demeanour and innate Principles of particular Gentlemen, Art has borrowed and instituted the many Modes of Behaviour, which the World has adopted under the Title of Good-Manners.
One Quality of a Gentleman is that of Charity to the Poor; and this is delicately instanced in the Account which Don
Quixote
gives, to his fast Friend
Sancho Pansa,
of the valorous but yet more pious Knight Errant Saint
Martin.
On a Day, said the Don, Saint
Martin
met a poor Man half naked, and taking his Cloak from his Shoulders, he divided and gave him the one Half. Now, tell me at what Time of the Year this happened. Was I a Witness? quoth
Sancho,
how the Vengeance should I know in what Year, or what Time of the Year it happened? Hadst thou,
Sancho,
rejoined the Knight, any thing within thee of the Sentiment of Saint
Martin,
thou must assuredly have known that this happened in Winter; for had it been Summer, Saint
Martin
would have given the whole Cloak.
Another Characteristic of the true Gentleman, is a Delicacy of Behaviour toward that Sex, whom Nature has entitled to the Protection, and consequently entitled to the Tenderness of Man.
The same Gentleman-Errant, entering into a Wood on a Summer's Evening, found himself entangled among Nets of green Thread that, here and there, hung from Tree to Tree; and, conceiving it some Matter of purposed Conjuration, pushed valorously forward to break through the Enchantment. Hereupon some beautiful Shepherdesses interposed with a Cry, and besought him to spare the Implements of their innocent Recreation. The Knight, surprised and charmed by the Vision, replied.    Fair Creatures! my Province is to protect, not to injure; to seek all Means of Service but never of Offence, more especially to any of your Sex and apparent Excellencies. Your pretty Nets take up but a small Piece of favoured Ground; but, did they enclose the World, I would seek out new Worlds, whereby I might win a Passage, rather than break them.
Two very lovely but shamefaced Girls had a Cause, of some Consequence, depending at
Westminster,
that indispensably required their personal Appearance. They were Relations of Sir
Joseph Jeckel,
and, on this tremendous Occasion, requested his Company and Countenance at the Court. Sir
Joseph
attended accordingly, and the Cause being opened, the Judge demanded whether he was to entitle those Ladies by the Denomination of Spinsters? No, my Lord, said Sir
Joseph;
they are Lilies of the Valley, they toil not, neither do they spin, yet you see that no Monarch, in all his Glory, was ever arrayed like one of these.
Another very peculiar Characteristic of a Gentleman, is, the giving Place, and yielding to all with whom he has to do.
Of this we have a shining and affecting Instance in
Abraham,
perhaps the most accomplished Character that may be found in History, whether sacred or profane.
A Contention had arisen between the Herdsmen of
Abraham
and the Herdsmen of his Nephew
Lot,
respecting the Propriety of the Pasture of the Lands wherein they dwelled, that could now scarce contain the Abundance of their Cattle. And those Servants, as is universally the Case, had, respectively, endeavoured to kindle and enflame their Masters with their own Passions.
When
Abraham,
in Consequence of this, perceived that the Countenance of
Lot
began to change toward him, he called, and generously expostulated with him as followeth.
Let there be no Strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, or between my Herdsmen and thy Herdsmen; for we be Brethren. If it be thy Desire to separate thyself from me, is not the whole Land before thee? if thou wilt take the Left Hand, then will I go to the Right; or if thou depart to the Right Hand, then I will go to the Left.
Another capital Quality of the true Gentleman is, that of feeling himself concerned and interested in others. Never was there so benevolent, so affecting, so pathetic a Piece of Oratory exhibited upon Earth, as that of
Abraham
's pleading with God for averting the Judgments that then impended over
Sodom.
But, the Matter is already so generally celebrated, that I am constrained to refer my Reader to the Passage at full; since the smallest Abridgement must deduct from its Beauties, and that nothing can be added to the Excellencies thereof.
Honour,
again, is said, in Scripture, peculiarly to distinguish the Character of a Gentleman; where it is written of
Sechem,
the Son of
Hamor,
that
he was more honourable than all the House of his Father.
This young Prince, giving way to the Violence of his Passion, had dishonourably defloured
Dinah
the Daughter of
Jacob.
But his Affections and Soul claved to the Party whom he had injured. He set no Limit to his Offers for repairing the Wrong. Ask me, he said to her Kindred,
ask me never so much Dowry and Gift, and I will give according as ye shall say unto me; but give me the Damsel to Wife.
From hence it may be inferred, that human Excellence, or human Amiableness, doth not so much consist in a Freedom from Frailty, as in our Recovery from Lapses, our Detestation of our own Transgressions, and our Desire of atoning, by all possible Means, the Injuries we have done and the Offences we have given. Herein therefore may consist the very singular Distinction which the great Apostle makes, between his Estimation of a
Just
and of a
Good
Man. For a
just
or
righteous Man,
says he,
one would grudge to die; but for a good Man one would even dare to die.
Here, the
just Man
is supposed to adhere strictly to the Rule of Right or Equity, and to exact from others the same Measure that he is satisfied to mete; but the
good Man,
though occasionally he may fall short of Justice, has, properly speaking, no Measure to his Benevolence, his general Propensity is to give more than the due. The
just Man
condemns and is desirous of punishing the Transgressors of the Line prescribed to himself; but the
good Man,
in the Sense of his own Falls and Failings, gives Latitude, Indulgence and Pardon to others; he judges, he condemns no one, save himself. The
just Man
is as a Stream that deviates not, to the Right or Left, from its appointed Channel, neither is swelled by the Flood of Passion above its Banks; but the Heart of the
good Man,
the Man of
Honour,
the
Gentleman,
is as a Lamp lighted by the Breath of GOD, and none, save GOD himself, can set Limits to the Efflux or Irradiations thereof.
Again, the Gentleman never envies any superior Excellence, but grows, himself, more excellent, by being the Admirer, Promoter, and Lover thereof.
Saul
said to his Son
Jonathan,
Thou Son of the perverse rebellious Woman, do not I know that thou hast chosen the Son of
Jesse
to thine own Confusion? For as long as the Son of
Jesse
liveth upon the Ground, thou shalt not be established, nor thy Kingdoms; wherefore send and fetch him unto me, for he shall surely die.
  Here every interesting Motive, that can possibly be conceived to have an Influence on Man, united to urge
Jonathan
to the Destruction of
David;
he would thereby have obeyed his King, and pacified a Father who was enraged against him. He would thereby have removed the only Luminary that, then, eclipsed the Brightness of his own Achievements. And he saw, as his Father said, that the Death of
David,
alone, could establish the Kingdom in himself and his Posterity. But all those Considerations were of no avail to make
Jonathan
swerve from Honour, to slacken the Bands of his Faith, or cool the Warmth of his Friendship. O
Jonathan!
the Sacrifice which thou then madest to Virtue was, incomparably, more illustrious in the Sight of God and his Angels, than all the subsequent Glories to which
David
attained. What a Crown was thine,
Jonathan, when thou wast slain in thine high Places!
Saul
of
Tharsus
had been a Man of Bigotry, Blood and Violence; making Havock, and breathing out Threatenings and Slaughter, against all who were not of his own Sect and Persuasion. But, when the Spirit of that INFANT, who laid himself in the Manger of human Flesh, came upon him; he acquired a new Heart and a new Nature; and he offered himself a willing Subject to all the Sufferings and Persecutions which he had brought upon others.
Saul,
from that Time, exemplified, in his own Person, all those Qualities of the
Gentleman,
which he afterwards specifies in his celebrated Description of that
Charity
which, as he says, alone endureth for ever.
When
Festus
cried, with a loud Voice,
Saul,
thou art beside thyself, much Learning doth make thee mad.
Saul
stretched the Hand, and answered, I am not mad, most noble
Festus,
but speak forth the Words of Truth and Soberness. For the King knoweth of these Things, before whom also I speak freely; for I am persuaded that none of these Things are hidden from him; King
Agrippa,
believest thou the Prophets? I know that thou believest. Then
Agrippa
said unto
Saul,
almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. And
Saul
said, I would to God, that not only thou, but also all that hear me this Day, were not only almost, but altogether such as I am --except these Bonds.
Here, with what an inimitable Elegance did this Man, in his own Person, at once sum up the Orator, the Saint, and the Gentleman!
From these Instances, my Friend, you must have seen that the Character or rather Quality of a GENTLEMAN does not, in any Degree, depend on Fashion or Mode, on Station or Opinion; neither changes with Customs, Climates or Ages. But, as the Spirit of God can, alone, inspire it into Man; so it is, as God is, the same, Yesterday, To-day, and for Ever.
It is a Standard whereby I propose, for the future, to Measure and judge of all my Acquaintance.    But, let us return to our little Gentleman Monitor.
CHAP. XII.
NEVER did
Harry
feel himself so deeply mortified, so debased in his own Eyes, as when my Lord's Footman, in Terms and with an Action so uncommonly respectful, had stooped and kissed his Hand. His Heart, but just before, had whispered to him, that the Manner, in which he had admonished the young Nobleman, expressed more of the Pride and Insolence of his own Temper, than any friendly Intention to reform the Faults of another; and he already began to suspect that the Manner, in which he had dispensed his own Bounty, showed the same Ostentation which he meant to reprove, and, with which he had been so highly offended in his Lordship.
Thus disgusted with himself, and consequently with all about him, he turned away from his Companions, walked sad and silent homeward; and, passing softly through the Hall, withdrew to his own Chamber.
James
had followed
Harry
at such a Distance as just to keep him in Sight, and entering where his Master sat reading in the Parlour, Mr.
Fenton
enquired eagerly after his Boy.
James
cast at his Master, a Look of much Solemnity, and, shaking his Head in Token of Concern, ah Sir, said he, I'm sorry to tell you that Master
Harry,
To-day, was not altogether as good a Boy as I could have wished. Indeed I observe of late that, at Times, he is apt to be very sudden and passionate. I doubt, Sir, we shall have woeful Doings by and by; he has terribly abused and battered the Son and Heir of the Earl of
Mansfield,
one of the worthiest Noblemen in all
England.
To be sure we shall have sad Complaints against him. I was present at all that passed; and truly Master
Harry
was very much in Fault.
You delight me, you transport me, cried Mr.
Fenton,
my only Affliction was that he had no Faults. I want him to have Faults,
James,
I want him to have Faults, such Faults as may make him feel them. But tell me minutely, as particularly as you can, how this Affair happened.
James
then gave a special Detail of what we have recited. Whereupon Mr.
Fenton
exclaimed, O, my noble, my generous, my incomparable Boy! where is he? let me see him, what is become of him?
Upon enquiry, Mrs.
Susan
reported that she had seen him stealing softly up Stairs. Mr.
Fenton,
then taking his Book in his Hand, stole up after his
Harry,
and, opening his Chamber Door with the least Noise possible, saw him seated, in a dejected Attitude, in a far Corner of the Room; and, looking attentively at him, perceived that he had been in Tears.
He thereupon took a Chair, and gently seating himself beside him, what is the Matter my
Harry,
he said, what ails my Love? Don't ask me, don't ask me, Sir, cried
Harry;
I daren't tell you, indeed I dare not. You would love me no longer, you would hate me if I should tell you. Hate you, my Darling, cried Mr.
Fenton,
that is quite impossible, I can never hate you, my
Harry.
But come, be free with your Friend, tell me openly and honestly, for what do you think I should hate you? for my Faults, Sir, for my Faults. To be sure there isn't in the World so bad a Boy as myself; and, what is worse than all that, when I think and mean to do better than ever, something comes in the way, and spoils the Whole, and so turns all the Good that is in me into nothing but Naughtiness.
Here,
Harry
could contain no longer, but burst into a passionate Gush of Tears and Sobs; and, Mr.
Fenton,
tenderly embracing him, and taking him on his Knee, and clasping him to his Bosom, gave way to the kindred Emotion that swelled in his own Breast, and mingled his joyful Tears with those of his
Harry.
As soon as the Passion of these two Friends had subsided,
Harry
began to take new Courage from the Caresses of his dear Dada, who, as he sensibly felt, would never hate or forsake him, however he might condemn and detest himself.
Well then, Dada, says he, since you are so very good, I will trust you with my Story, so far as it has to say to the little that I can remember of my Faults in it.
You must know that I had no sooner got into your Field that you gave me for our Plays, than a young Master came up to us, so grandly dressed and attended, and with such a saucy Air that he seemed to say, in his own Mind, all these are but Dirt in Comparison of myself.
As I looked at him, he brought to my Mind the Story you once told me of
Hercules,
who was poisoned by his fine Coat. So I began to pity him, and, I believe, to despise him too; and that you know wasn't't right; for you told me that, whoever despises another grows worse than the one he despises, and falls below him while he thinks to set himself above him; but that didn't come into my Head at the Time.
And so, Sir, to show us all that he didn't matter Money, or that he loved Mischief the better of the two, he took out a Handful of Silver and threw it among my Companions, to set them by the Ears; and this provoked and began to make me very angry with him; and thus one Fault brought me into another after it, like Water my Chickens come clock.
But this didn't satisfy my young Lord, for they call'd him Lord, but he must take out a Crown, and offer it to any two of my Companions that would box for it. So a Stranger that was just come offered to box any one in the Company for it, but I don't repent of my beating him, because he was the Challenger.
But, the worst is yet to come, Dada. There was some of my Companions who refused to join in the Scramble for the Money, and that pleased me very much; and so to reward them I took out a Handful of Money, and gave them a Crown a piece. But you know, I needn't have taken out more Money than I meant to give them, if it wasn't't partly to show my Lord that I had as much Money as himself; and so I got myself up to the Head and Ears in the very same Fault that I found with him.
Now comes the worst of all. For, growing proud and conceited, as if I had no one Fault in the World; and as if the like of me was only fit to reprove others and teach them their Duty; I desired the fine Master to get himself Home, and since he was a Lord to learn also to be a Gentleman. Upon that he gave me a Blow, which I deserved very well; but I didn't matter his Blow a Phillip, if I hadn't thought it an Affront before my Companions. So my Passion begun to rise, and I gave him a half Stroke; but unluckily it hit him full in the Nose, and I'm afraid he's hurted very sadly.
Besides all, Dada, I know well enough there will come sad Complaints against me, and so I shall bring Trouble and Disturbance upon you; and that's Grief upon Grief.
Don't fear for me,
Harry,
I shall do well enough, says Mr.
Fenton.
But,
Harry,
you have not told me near as great News as you thought to do. I knew all along that you had a very naughty Boy within you; but I forbore to tell you so, because I rather wish'd you should make the Discovery yourself, and now, God be praised, you have found out the Secret.
And what Good will it do me, Dada, to know that I am bad, when I don't know how to make myself better? for, To-day I thought and meant to be very good, and yet found myself in the End to be worse than ever. But, as you say, to be sure I have been very bad, though I hardly knew any Thing of the Matter till now. I now remember how I had like to murder poor Mr.
Vindex
with the Sword; and a hundred other Things, if I could bring them to Mind. What shall I do then, Dada, what shall I do to grow good?
I will tell you, my
Harry,
says Mr.
Fenton.
And, as you have generously entrusted me with one Secret, that of having a very bad Boy within you; it is but fair that I should entrust you with another Secret, which is that of having an exceeding good Boy within you.
What, two Boys in one, Dada, how can that be? it is even so, my Darling, you yourself told me as much. Did you not say that, this very Day, the one was struggling and fighting within you against the other? that the one was proud, scornful, ostentatious, and revengeful; the other humble, gentle, generous, loving, and forgiving; and that when the bad Boy got the better, the good Boy took him to Task, and reprimanded and severely rebuked him, and made him cry bitterly?
What you say indeed, Dada, is something very like it, only I can't think how one Boy can be two Boys. Do you remember,
Harry,
what you read last Night in the old Testament, about
Rebecka
the Wife of
Isaac,
when she was with Child? yes, very well, Sir. As how she was with Child of Twins,
and the Children struggled together within her; and she said, if it be so, why am I thus? And she went to enquire of the Lord.
Very right, my Love; and I now say to you what God then said to
Rebecka.
I do not mean that you have two Boys within you, of the bodily Bulk, Features, and Shape of yourself; but that you have two
different Spirits
or
Principles
within you which, like
Esau
and
Jacob,
have quite different and adverse Natures, Inclinations, and Desires; the one prompting and hurrying you into all that is Evil, the other inviting and leading you into all that is Good. So you see,
Harry,
and you have felt that, like
Rebecka,
you have your own
Esau
and your own
Jacob
struggling within your Bosom. And the War between them shall never cease, till the one shall have wholly conquered and subjected the other.
To make this Matter plainer and clearer to you, my Darling, I will tell you a pretty Story out of the Book that is in my Hand.
Cyrus
was a King and a great Conqueror, but, in his private Capacity, a very virtuous Man. On a Day, some of his Captains, just returned from an Expedition, informed him that they had brought him the greatest Wonder in the World, a young Princess called
Panthea,
whom they had taken captive, and whose Charms exceeded all that could be imagined of Woman.
Cyrus,
as I told you, was virtuous. He was already married, and he dreaded running the Risk of being seduced from his Honesty by the dangerous Allurements of this enchanting Beauty. He therefore obstinately, though reluctantly, forbid her Approach; and denied himself the Pleasure he might have taken in beholding her.
His own Honour however, and the Respect due to the Quality and Accomplishments of the Lady, demanded all possible Attention and Precaution in her Behalf. For this Purpose he summoned his chief Captains and Favourites. He asked, which of them would adventure to take the Charge of this young Beauty; and he promised the highest Rewards to those who should honourably discharge their Trust, but threatened his deepest Displeasure to any who should betray it.
All of them shrunk at the Apprehension of taking upon them the personal Custody and Care of a Beauty, whom their great and virtuous Monarch had not even dared to look upon; and no one had offered to undertake this perilous Commission, till a valiant and noble Youth, named
Araspes,
stood forth.
From my Infancy, O
Cyrus,
said the graceful Adventurer, I have been educated in the School and brought up at the Feet of the divine
Zoroaster.
I am accustomed from my Childhood to combat, conquer, and scorn all sensual Seducers. I hold Virtue in mine Eye, as its only Object; my Heart esteems and affects it as my only Good; the Nature thereof is become one with my Nature; and I do not remember the Time wherein I have been tempted to deviate from Rectitude, or sink beneath the Calls of Honour. I cannot therefore but smile at the Fear of my Companions. Their Courage at a Breach or in the Field is unquestionable. I have seen them face a thousand Deaths; I have seen them rush into Dangers; and yet they dread the Sight of a single and weakly Female. For me she can have no Terrors, since I am out of the Power and Reach of her Allurements. I will undertake the Charge of this formidable Creature, at the Risk of my Honour, at the Risk of my Life, and more than all at the Risk of the Favour of
Cyrus.
Cyrus
had long loved the Person, and contemplated and admired the Virtues of this Youth. He, therefore, with Joy and Confidence, committed this precious Deposite to his Trust; in full Assurance that the Person and Honour of
Panthea
could no where be so safe as in the Protection of
Araspes.
The young Hero had in Reality all the Virtues that he boasted. His Education under so beloved and respectable a Master; his early and long Habit of opposing and rejecting the smallest Incitement to Vice; and the Delights which he was accustomed to feel in the Sentiments and Practice of what his judgement approved, had in a Manner so wholly lulled his naughty Self to sleep, that he did not so much as dream that he had an Enemy within him.
This, my
Harry,
was his heavy Misfortune, and the sad Occasion of his Fall. For, not knowing that his evil
Esau
was still alive in his Bosom; not knowing that he had any one to oppose or to struggle with; he kept neither Watch nor Guard, and so lay naked and open to the Mischief that came upon him, as I am going to tell you.
On his seeing the Lady who was committed to his Trust, he felt no Emotion nor Sentiment save that of Wonder, as in beholding the most perfect of the Works of his Creator; and he took a Pleasure in providing that she should be treated and accommodated with all possible Attention and Respect, as due to so accomplished and pre-eminent a Being.
As the Nature of his Commission gave him frequent Occasions of being near and about the Person of his amiable Ward, new Beauties grew daily visible and opened to his Eyes. But, abve all, in conversing with her, the Music of her Accents, and the Elegance of her Sentiments fell insensibly on his Soul that drank them up, as a dry Ground drinks up the invisible Dew of the Evening.
His Occasions for attending her, and doing little Offices and Services about her, now daily increased without seeming to do so. When he was called and intended to go elsewhere, his Feet imperceptibly carried him to the Presence of
Panthea.
His Slumbers were short, uneasy, and broken; and, at Meals he knew not whether or on what he fed.
At length his Eyes opened to the Calamity of his Condition. But, at the Moment wherein he perceived his Love, he found himself too far gone for the possibility of a Return. He was as a Mariner who had haled his Boat up on Land and, thinking himself secure, had fallen asleep therein; but, while he slept, a spring Tide came silently on, and covered the Shore, and gained upon the Beach, and swelled under the Boat and heaved it from Land, and turning bore it farther and farther to Sea. Then awakened the helpless Mariner unprovided of Sail or Oar, or of any Means to effect or attempt a Return. He saw his lost Estate, he stretched his Arms toward the Land, but while he reached it with his Eyes, he found himself carried, by an irresistible Power, still more and more distant from the Sight.
Thus fared it with the wretched, lost, fallen away
Araspes.
He awakened to his Condition, he looked around, but found himself helpless. He would have struggled, he wished his Return to Virtue; but his Wishes were sickly, as feeble as a Dream; and he felt himself borne away, by a secret and subtle Force, from that Honour of which he now barely retained a distant Prospect.
The imbosomed Fire that preyed upon him, at length became insufferable, and he desperately determined to seek Relief. He threw himself at the Feet of the Object of his Desires, avowed the Ardour of his Passion, and besought her Pity.
The Princess replied, in a mild but resolute Accent, I do pity you,
Araspes,
I pity you the more, as it is all that my Power can ever do for you. Two insurmountable Barriers oppose your Desires, the one is my Honour, the other my Inclination. I am already married to a young Hero, the Prince and Patron of his People, the most accomplished of his Sex, and an Honour to human Nature. He is my first and last Love, he possesses my Heart wholly; but, were it emptied of him, it would not be emptied of its Virtue; and the Thoughts of any other would be an Offence to my Soul. Be advised then,
Araspes,
depart from Temptation, and seek, in Absence, a Cure for the Indiscretion of your Love.
Confused, astonished, speechless,
Araspes
lost, at once, the little that remained to him of Virtue and Reason. He knew not what he did, he would have proceeded to Violence; when the Princess, suddenly, drew a Ponyard and pointed it at her Bosom. Whereat
Araspes
strait withdrew, overwhelmed with Shame, Disappointment, and Despair.
As soon as he had retired, the Princess took a little Tablet, whereon she inscribed the few following Words.
To
CYRUS.
Your Favourite has betrayed his Trust, he would have offered Violence. Think what is due to your own Honour, as well as that of
PANTHEA.
This she dispatched to the Monarch by one of her faithful Mutes --As soon as
Cyrus
had perused it, he sighed, and dropped a Tear, as over the departed Virtue of his best beloved Friend --He instantly sent for
Araspes. Araspes
durst not disobey. He came indeed, but then he did not dare to look upward.
After a Silence, on both Sides  
Cyrus
cried out! Whoever thou art, account to me for my Friend, account to me for his Virtue! a Virtue that I deemed to be impassable, unassailable. Whereupon,
Araspes
made the following most memorable of Answers.
As you are but lately entered on your
Greek,
my
Harry,
I will first read the Passage to you, and then give you the Sense of it, Word for Word.
O
Cyrus,
it is manifest that I have two Souls. For, if I had but one Soul, it could not be, at once, both
good
and
evil;
not a Lover, at the same Time, of what is
honest
and
dishonest;
it could not at once
desire
and be
averse
to the same Thing. It is, therefore, most evident that we have two Souls; and, when the good Soul hath the Dominion,
good Works
are performed; but
evil Works,
when the evil Soul predominates.
Here,
Harry,
you see there was two Men in one Man, which is the same Thing as there being two Boys in you. For the Soul is the Man,
Harry,
and the Body is but as a Sign to give Notice to others that such a Man dwells within.
But, Sir, says
Harry,
since, as you say and as I find, I have two different Boys or Souls within me; pray, how came they to be different? did the same God that desired to make the one Soul good, desire also to make the other Soul evil?
Your Question, my Darling, is very proper, though very deep. I will however endeavour, to the best of my Power, to accommodate my Answer to the Weakness of your Capacity.
God, who is nothing but Goodness, cannot possibly desire any kind of Evil; and therefore cannot be, immediately, the Author thereof. But he can make or create such poor little insignificant Beings as you and I are,
Harry;
though all that God, himself, can do in our Behalf, cannot possibly make us good, or excellent, or perfect, any otherwise than by informing us with his own Goodness and Perfections.
This would lead me, my Love, to the unfolding that capital Secret, of which you are not yet susceptible; a Secret, upon which this World, Sun, Moon, and Stars, with all the Worlds upon Worlds that lie beyond them, depend and hang as your Hat would hang upon yonder Nail.
The Angels that are now in Heaven are great, good, perfect, and glorious Beings; because they are filled with the Greatness, Goodness, Glory, and Perfection of God. For they know that, of themselves, they are nothing; and that, in themselves they are no other than empty and dark Creatures, mere sensible Capacities prepared for the Reception, the Feeling, and Enjoyment of the Light, Virtue, and Blessedness of their bountiful Creator.
How the Spirit of Man came to be, in itself, so much worse than an empty and dark Creature. How it came to be filled and polluted with all Manner of Evil, with Selfishness, Pride, Covetousness, abominable Lusts, Envy, Hatred, Malice, Revengefulness, and Wrathfulness. How it further came to have a different Spirit begotten within it, informing its Heart and tuneing the Chords thereof to Sentiments of Humility, Charity, Purity, Love, Patience, and Peace; this,
Harry,
is the great Secret, of which you are not yet capable; the Secret, as I told you, whereon the World now hangs, whereby it has been changed, and whereby it will be renewed.
In the mean Time let it suffice, for you, to feel and to know that your dark Spirit so filled, as I said, with Evil, is yourself, my
Harry,
is all that you have of the Creature within you: And that the good Spirit, which is begotten within your evil Spirit, is breathed into you by the Power and Spirit of God himself, in order to oppose and conquer the Evil, and enlighten the Darkness, and purify the Foulness of your selfish or creaturely Spirit; that you may finally become as the Angels that are in Heaven, filled with the Purity, Glory, and Blessedness of your God.
Know therefore from henceforward, and let the Sense of it sink into your Soul, my Darling, that all the Evil which is in you belongs to yourself, and that all the Good which is in you belongs to your God. That you cannot, in or of yourself, so much as think a good Thought, or form a good Wish, or oppose a single Temptation or evil Motion within you. From hence learn to be humble, and to think meanly of yourself, and not to ascribe to yourself any kind of Goodness or Virtue; for that would be Sacrilege, it would be to rob God of his peculiar Property of Goodness. From hence further learn never to prefer yourself to others, or to think better of yourself than of any one living; for, so far as you are a Creature, no one can be viler or faultier than you are; however God may be pleased, through his Mercy and Bounty to you, to be better in you than in others.
Never exalt yourself, my
Harry,
neither in Company or Conversation, of any kind, say I did this or I did that, or I said this or I said that; for, in exalting yourself, you exalt your own proud and evil Spirit above the good and meek Spirit of God that is in you. Let all Praise mortify and be a Reproach to your Conscience; but take Blame with Patience and Pleasure; in so doing you will approve yourself a Lover of Justice, as well as a Lover of your own Reformation.
Lastly, my Love, turn your whole Will and Affections, from your own evil Spirit, to the Spirit of God that is in you, for that is the utmost that any Man can do toward his own Salvation. Reject, spurn, and detest every Motion to Evil; embrace, cherish, and take to your Heart every Motion to Good; you will thereby acquire the never ending Glory of having joined with God, in the Combat and Conquest that he is desirous of obtaining over all the Guilt, Uncleanness, and Depravity into which your Nature is fallen.
Here,
Andrew
came up with Notice to his Master that the Earl of
Mansfield
was below and requested to speak with him. At this
Harry
coloured up and cried, didn't I tell you, Sir, what Trouble I should bring upon you? Don't be alarmed, my Dear, says Mr.
Fenton;
do you stay here. If there is a necessity for your Appearance, I will send you Word.
The Father of young Lord
Bottom
was, in every Respect, the reverse of his Son. He had come on Foot, without Attendants, was dressed in a plain napped Coat, and had the Mein and Appearance of an honest Country Grazier.
My Lord, says Mr.
Fenton,
I should think myself greatly honoured by this Visit, if I was not so much concerned at the Occasion of it. I am truly grieved that my Son should have done such great Offence to young Lord
Bottom.
Sir, says the Earl, I find you have quite mistaken the Intent of my Visit; I am come to thank your Son for the just and noble Lesson which he gave to mine; and which he has so forcibly impressed upon his Memory, as will not, I trust, permit him so forget it in a hurry. My Lord, replied Mr.
Fenton,
my little Fellow is very sensible of his Misbehaviour in this Business. He was the first to chide himself, and he told me the Story, very much, I assure your Lordship, to his own Disadvantage.
Mr.
Fenton,
rejoined the Earl, after what I have heard of your Boy, from one
Jack Freeman,
a very faithful and intelligent Servant of mine, I am quite impatient to see him, and there is nothing generous which I am not willing to believe concerning him. My Wife indeed is not, at all Times, in my way of thinking. She has taken her young Lord with her, to Town, to the Doctors; and I am concerned at the Violence of the Resentment which she expressed on this Occasion, as it may be a Means of deferring that Acquaintance and Intimacy, which I heartily wish to cultivate with the Family of Mr.
Fenton.
But where is this wonderful Boy? I request to see him.
Harry,
hereupon, was immediately called down. As he apprehended that he was sent for to be severely chidden, a little resentful Haughtiness arose in his Mind, and strengthened it against the Violence of the Reproofs that he expected. He therefore entered with an Air that no way savoured of Mortification, and made but a cold though solemn Bow to the Earl.
Bless me, exclaimed my Lord, what a striking Resemblance! I never saw two Faces or Persons so much alike. There is no Difference, Mr.
Fenton,
between you and your Son, except what Age has made. Mr.
Fenton
smiled, and my Lord continued. I always had a Notion that your Heroes were huge Fellows, but here I think we have got Heroism quite in Miniature. Can this be the one, who as I am told, with a Trip or a Blow, overthrows and demolishes all before him? Come to me, my Dear, and give me Leave to salute you.
Harry
respectfully approached; and my Lord, taking him in his Arms and warmly kissing him, said, I thank you, my little Man, for the generous Lesson which you gave to my very naughty Boy; and for the Difference with you taught him to make, for the future, between the Sauciness of a Lord and the Sentiments of a Gentleman.
Harry
felt himself, at once, disconcerted, abased, and wholly cut down by this Compliment from his Lordship. At length, recovering himself, he answered. You mean to be sure, Sir, to reprove me the more by what you have said; but if you are in earnest, I'm sure it's a very bad Lesson which you teach me, Sir, when you praise me for my Faults and so encourage me in them. Faults, my Dear, cried the Earl, I heard of none such; what do you mean by your Faults? I mean, Sir, that when I told your Son as much as that he was not a Gentleman, it showed that I was still less of the Gentleman myself; and I very well deserved the Blow which he gave me for such an Affront; and I am ready to ask his Pardon whenever you please, my Lord. No, no, my Man, cried Lord
Mansfield,
you shall never Disgrace yourself so much as to make any Submissions to my naughty Boy. I shall think it no Disgrace, quick and affectingly replied
Harry,
to make Submissions to any one, who is Son to such a Gentleman as my Lord
Mansfield.
My Lord, for some Time, looked with Astonishment at the Child; when, eagerly catching and pressing him to his Bosom, he cried out, On my Soul, you are the sweetest as well as the noblest Fellow I was ever acquainted with; and, Sir, I shall think it an Honour to be admitted among your Friends; and that's what I would not say to many in
Old England.
Mr.
Fenton,
continued the Earl, if you will give yourself the Trouble to enquire out my little Lodge on the Hill, you will oblige me; though I envy your Character I shall be glad of your Acquaintance. So saying, Lord
Mansfield
got up, after his blunt Manner, and precipitately withdrew.
On the following Evening, Mr.
Fenton
took
Harry
and Mr.
Clement
into his Study, and taking from his Pocket-Book a Number of Bank Bills, Mr.
Clement,
says he, I here make my
Harry
a Present of fifteen hundred Pounds, reserving only to myself the Privilege of advising how it may be laid out and secured for him to the best Advantage.
To-morrow Morning you and he are to set out on Foot for
London,
and there to take Lodgings as near to the
Fleet
Prison as you can conveniently be accommodated. You are then to apply to the Keeper, and to give him a Gratuity for making out a written List of all the Prisoners under his Custody, with their Quality and Condition annexed, as also the Sums respectively due, and the Terms during which they have been in Confinement.
You are then to enquire from him the several Characters, Distresses, and Merits of all the Prisoners of Note, and to make an Entry thereof in a separate Paper; but then you are not to depend altogether on his Report. You are to go from Room to Room, to converse with the Prisoners apart, and to enquire from each the Characters, Fortunes and Disasters of the others.
This Inquisition, in all likelihood, will take you up above a Fortnight. But, above all, remember that those, among them, who are most affected by the Distresses of their Fellows, ought to be the principal Objects of your own Charity and Relief.
Let five hundred Pounds of this Money be appropriated to the Enlargement of such Prisoners as are under Duress for Sums not amounting to ten Pounds. You will thereby free the Captive; give means of Bread to the Hungry; and restore to your Country many Members that are worse than useless, that are also a dead Weight and Incumbrance upon her.
Let the remaining thousand Pounds be applied to the Enfranchisment or Relief of those Prisoners of Note, whose Cases and Calamities call for singular Compassion. And be sure to keep an Account, where your Money may fall short of such valuable Purposes; and, as far as five hundred Pounds more will reach, we will supply the Defect.
Hereupon,
Harry
caught his Patron about the Neck, and repeatedly kissing him, cried, O Dada how happy, how very happy you make me! O, that we had Money enough to employ every Fortnight, the Year round, like this sweet Fortnight!
The very next Morning our Travellers set out on their generous Expedition. But, we forbear to say any Thing, relative thereto, till their Return; as they themselves are the best qualified and, in Truth, have the best right to give the Particulars of their own extraordinary Adventures.
Our
Harry
and his Friend
Clement
had not been gone above an Hour, when Mr.
Fenton
received a Card from the Countess of
Maitland
requesting his Company to Coffee in the Evening. She was Widow to the late Earl, a very lovely Woman, had taken the most sumptuous House on the Hill, and was resorted to by Numbers of the first Figure, from among whom she was perfectly qualified to make an Election, exceedingly entertaining to herself, of the sensible, the elegant, and the ludicrous.
Mr.
Fenton
attended my Lady precisely at the Time appointed. When he entered, she was writing a Note at her Desk. On turning her Eye to the Door, she was suddenly struck with the Grace of his Figure, the Sweetness of his Aspect, and Ease of his Deportment. She was further struck with a Recollection as of something very interesting, but which had happened at a vast Distance, or of which she had dreamed. Her Heart was affected, she coloured up and again turned pale, without being yet able to move from her Chair. At length, recovering, and rising, and advancing toward him, Mr.
Fenton,
says she, this is a very singular Favour, a Favour for which I have long wished. This Sir, you know, is my third Time of asking, but my two former Cards were not so happy as to bring you. Madam, said he carelessly, I am but a very poor Visiter; however I could not refuse myself the Honour of attending your Ladyship's Summons, at least for once. I have been now, said the Countess, three Months on the Hill. Within that Time I have applied to all my Acquaintance, in order to get some of them to introduce me to you, but none of them were so fortunate as to know any of your Name. To be known, Madam, replied Mr.
Fenton,
a Person must have been, in some way, considerable; indeed it is no way disagreeable to my own Inclinations to pass the short Remnant of an insignificant Life, as little noticed as possible. I have been just writing a Note, Sir, says my Lady, be so good to amuse yourself for a Moment with the Books and Paintings in my Closet there, and I will attend you.
Within a few Minutes after Mr.
Fenton
had withdrawn, Mr.
Sneer
entered. What, cried he, bowing, all alone, Lady
Maitland?
that's surprising. Your Sex, it seems, are grown very careless of Improvement, when they neglect the Model by which they should polish their Manners. O you Wretch, exclaimed the Countess, what brought you here of all Things? I have a World of Company to be with me this Evening, and if they get but a Hint of your coming, I shall be left as much alone as the Statue in
Bushy-Park.
Law Madam, cries Mr.
Sneer,
is it possible that with all your Discernment you should be so much mistaken? permit me to assure your Ladyship, that I am plagued out of my Life, by the Solicitations of Numbers of the first Quality for my Company. You, you Brute, cried my Lady, your Company courted! it must be by
Indians
then, who have a Reason of their own for worshipping the Devil; why you make no more of Characters, than a Reaper does of Grass, when he is cutting down Weeds. O Madam, exclaims Mr.
Sneer,
they like me never the worse for that; every one gladly compounds for the maiming of their own Character, to have the Pleasure of seeing those of their Neighbours hewn down. But, pray Madam, what Company do you expect this Evening? Why there is Colonel
Sweetpouder.
Colonel
Sweetpouder
of all Things? Yes, Sir, and a very fine Gentleman too, in my Opinion. Why Madam, the Man would not want Sense, it is true, if he had not wholly mistaken the Manners of his Profession. He has been, as I am told, in some trifling Engagements, but never had the Rudeness to attack his Enemy, without white Gloves. He had like to have lost his Life, upon a Retreat, by the Delay which he made in search of his Sword Knot.
Here a Footman entered saying, Colonel
Sweetpouder,
my Lady. --Lady
Maitland,
says the Colonel, your truly most devoted. More your's than you are any one's, Mr.
Sneer;
you are extremely happy, Sir, in your
tete a tete
with her Ladyship, but People have not always the choice of their Company. Severe, Colonel, very severe upon my Honour, says Mr.
Sneer.
He who wars on the World, replies the Colonel, should not hope to escape without a Scratch, Mr.
Sneer;
and I have Faults enough to make me angry with all who are censorious. Colonel, said the Countess, Mr.
Sneer
has been railing at me through fifty Families, and is but just come to assist me to rail at my Neighbours. On my Soul, Madam, says Mr.
Sneer,
I am resolved not to spare the least of your Failings, when I am once so ingenious as to discover where they lie. Your Justice, Mr.
Sneer,
to the Merits of this Lady, exclaims the Colonel, entitles you to say what you will against the rest of Womankind.
Mr.
Fenton
just then re-entering, the Countess introduced him to her Acquaintance. I hope in Heaven, Madam, cried Mr.
Sneer,
that the Company whom you expect may be wholly the reverse of this Gentleman's Appearance! the Mouth of Raillery must else learn the Language of Admiration, and that would be an Exchange by no Means suitable to my Taste. Mr.
Fenton
bowed, but was silent.
Here was rap, rap, rap, rap; and immediately Lady
Cribbage
's Chariot was announced. There now, cries Mr.
Sneer,
there is the happiest Woman in the Universe, that's certain. She divides her whole Time between the two Delights of her Life, CARDS and SCANDAL. She is never tired of either, and yet runs from one to the other, that Variety may give the higher Relish to both.
Lady
Cribbage
here entered, in all the Hurry imaginable. She flew and embraced the Countess with Transport. My dear dearest Lady
Maitland,
says she, how happy am I to have got to you at last! Heavens, what have I endured before I could get free of that odious
London?
what a Gauntelope have I run! a hundred and fifty Visits, no less upon rep: and through such a Sortment too, as your Mercers say. But there is no dispensing with these Fopperies; they had all dropped Cards at my Gate; and I coudn't but return the Visit, in good Manners to myself you know. There was Lady
Gadabout,
and Mrs.
Chataway,
and Mrs.
Tendersides,
and Lady
Frump,
and Lady Dowager
Gossipper,
and Miss
Giglett
the merry Miss of threescore, that you know. La Madam, exclaimed the Countess, why, these are all Persons of distinguished Fashion. Ay ay, my dear Friend, replied Lady
Cribbage,
they are the Noughts of the great World; when such as Lady
Maitland
are pleased to figure before them, they acquire a Kind of value; they would not otherwise be picked up should they drop on the High-Way. --Colonel
Sweetpouder,
ten thousand Pardons! I really did not observe you. --Your Servant Sir --a fine Person! (half whispering to Lady
Maitland
) --And you here, Mr.
Sneer?
you are the Man of the World to whom we should pay our first Respects, if we desire that our Caps should sit straight, you know.
Why my Lady, says Mr.
Sneer,
would you be like the
Turk,
and allow no Brother Slanderer near your Throne? But the Field of Folly and Ridicule is wide enough for us both. Besides Madam, we assail in very different Manners; I am like the
Parthian,
no more than a back Stroke and away; but your Ladyship moves on like Time or Death, and mow down your Sex without distinction before you. O fye Mr.
Sneer,
said Lady
Cribbage,
what say you, Sir, can you think so hardly of me? no truly, Madam, answered Mr.
Fenton;
I am rather inclined to believe that you only prune. For I have often observed that, after very keen Hands, Reputation sprouts anew, and flourishes the better. O, Lady
Cribbage,
Lady
Cribbage!
exclaimed Mr.
Sneer,
that's the severest Thing, upon my Honour, that was said this Day. What, allow a Lady the Will to do Mischief, and not allow her the Power! can any Thing be so provoking? Well, supposing it to be so, rejoined Lady
Cribbage,
I would rather be cut by that Gentleman's Razor than Mr.
Sneer
's Hatchet. But, apropo', I wonder what keeps Lady
Philligree,
I met her on my last Visit, and she told me she had but half a Dozen more to pay and be with us; she brings with her a new Language for the Day, I'll engage. That Woman, says Mr.
Sneer,
ought to be strung up for minting our
English
Dialect. True, added the Colonel, if her Coin would pass. Ah Colonel, said Mr.
Fenton,
what Species of Folly or Faultiness will not acquire Currency, when impressed and uttered by Persons of Fortune and Figure?
Come, dearest Lady
Maitland
cried Lady
Cribbage,
while we choice Spirits are got together, let us know what Company you have summoned for the Evening. I hope in Goodness you have laid in a sufficient Fund for Merriment. I should droop to Death, if the Propriety of their Manners left no Room for Laughter. Fear not, said the Countess, but mark the Characters as they pass.
First, there is Sir
Bumkin Toilette.
Most excellent, exclaimed Lady
Cribbage,
the amphibious Wretch! he that is so like an Otter, between his Country Breeding that he can't get rid of, and his Court Breeding that he can't assume.
Again, there is Lord
Bottom
Earl of
Mansfield,
lately come to the Hill. Ay, added the Colonel, there is the Sample that Nature gave us when she intended to show what Man ought to be. He, the Bear, cries
Sneer;
for Heaven's sake, Colonel, how can you praise a Man whose Manners are so wholly the reverse of your own? I allow that he has Talents and Learning, though he seems to know nothing about the Matter; and he piques himself, solely, on the most plebeian of all Virtues, that of being an HONEST MAN. Do you know him, Mr.
Fenton?
just enough, Sir, said Mr.
Fenton,
to make me fear that I should rather afford Matter of Ridicule to his Lordship, than hope to be merry at his Expense. I have been told, said
Sneer,
that, on his Return from his Travels, he was an accomplished
Cavalier,
but he suddenly took a disgust to all Manner of Politeness; and I question, at this Moment, if there are five Men in
England
to whom he would say,
your Servant!
and I am confident, added the Colonel, that there are not five Men in
England,
whom he would not serve.
Talk not of him, dear Colonel, exclaimed Lady
Cribbage;
he says more shocking Things, in fewer and simpler Words, than any
Cynic
that ever breathed. Because Madam, rejoined the Colonel, he is too much our Friend to hurt us by Flattery, and he never reproves but with an Intention to reform. Well, well, cried
Sneer,
I own there is not much Matter for Laughter in his Character. Let us call another Cause. Who comes next, Lady
Maitland?
The Widow
Mawkin,
says the Countess, the huge
Kentish
Fortune. She who keeps three marriageable Daughters in the Nursery, for fear People should be so impertinent as to enquire who brought them into the World. She is not yet in despair of a third Jointure. And she would bribe others, by her Smiles, to be as forgetful of her Age as she is herself. I never see her, cries Lady
Cribbage,
but she puts me in mind of a May-Morning, when the long Pole is awkardly hung with Flowers and Garlands. She has been equally happy, adds Mr.
Sneer,
in adorning her Mind with the Flowers of Science, and is as ridiculously affected in the Parade of her Learning as she is of her Dress. I could pity or pardon all this, says the Colonel, if she were not so merciless in her Censures, on an Article of Female Virtue, to a single Breach of which no Man living will ever lead Mrs.
Mawkin
into Temptation. But, have you any more Blocks, Madam, for the hewing out of our Mercuries?
Yes yes, said the Countess, there's enough to laugh with, and enough to laugh at, I warrant you. There's our Friend
Billy Bustle.
O Lud! screamed Lady
Cribbage,
I wish I had brought another Gown; this is he who is always so busy where there's nothing to do; he is so full of his Friendships that you never can escape without some Damage; and he spoils you a Suit of Brocade in his hurry to reach you your Coffee.
Then, says the Countess, there's Miss
Trinket.
O the pretty Bauble, cries Mr.
Sneer,
whoever marries her will have something to hang to his Watch. Again, there is
Franc Faddle,
whose Company is so universally courted. That's what amazes me of all Things, cried the Colonel, the insensible Wretch! he is quite callous to the keenest Sting of Satire; the Fool is good humoured, it must be confessed; he is so desirous of promoting Merriment, that he actually enjoys the Laugh that is raised at his own Expense. It is then no longer, said Mr.
Fenton,
any Matter of Wonder that his Company should be sought after, since all love to laugh, but very few to be laughed at.
There was a Mystery in the Behaviour of Mr.
Faddle,
said
Sneer,
that no one dreamed of. I happened, some Time since, to be in Company where he had set himself up as a Butt to be shot at. The Novelty of the Thing surprised me. I examined him with Attention. I remarked the Cleverness of the Address with which he used to turn the Joke upon himself; and I discerned, under his Submission to the Triumph of others, an Understanding quite superior to that of his Ralliers. In a few Months after, I happened to join him in a private Walk. Mr.
Faddle,
said I, I can't conceive why you should offer yourself, as an Object of Jest and Ridicule, to People infinitely your Inferiors in every Thing except Fortune.
I am no longer under that Necessity, answered
Faddle.
You see I am in Mourning. A Relation has lately left me seven hundred a Year. You are the first, Mr.
Sneer,
who had the Discernment to detect me, and are entitled that I should Account to you for my Behaviour.
I am a younger Brother. Early in Life, I was left wholly dependent on my Mother's small Jointure; and Experience quickly showed me that the Countenances of all about me caught a Coldness and Disregard from the Knowledge of my narrow Circumstances.
How to remedy this Evil; how to procure an Interest in the
Golden Idol before whom all Nations and Languages fall prostrate,
was the Question.
I found myself in a World where a Genius for Pimping; or a Genius for Knavery was indispensably necessary to the Acquisition of Favour. I was so unfortunate as to want Talents for those valuable Purposes. I could not even betray an Enemy, to serve a Friend. I therefore found myself excluded from the Patrons of the present Age, as I could neither contribute to the Modes of their Interest or the Modes of their Pleasure.
At length, I thought upon the Stratagem that surprised you. It requires no greater Art, said I to myself, than to be wise and humble, wise enough to acquiesce in being deemed a Fool, and humble enough to submit as a Footstool, for others to raise themselves, in their own Opinion, and in the Eyes of the Company.
My Project succeeded beyond Expectation. I was admitted to an Intimacy with the Chiefs of the Land. My Company was coveted and sought by all the Great; and happy was the Peer who could boast, to his Visitants, he should have
Faddle
to Supper.
Mean Time, I was by no Means a Jest for all. I knew how to turn the Ridicule upon such of your middling Gentry as presumed to laugh like their Betters; and I never failed to pull down those from whose Interest or Favour I had nothing to expect.
I had a Number of these Right Honourable Patrons, each of whom would gladly have engrossed me to himself. They all contributed to make me relish the Jest. Independent of very considerable Presents, they have procured me some pretty Sinecures to the amount of about six hundred Pounds a Year. So that you see Mr.
Sneer,
I am now in a fair Way of being enabled to fee others to permit me, in my Turn, to laugh at them.
I do not feel in myself, said Mr.
Fenton,
a thorough Approbation of this Gentleman's Character. There is something unamiable in every Species of Imposition; and even the Merit of Mr.
Faddle
's Humility receives great Alloy from its Disingenuity. His good Sense however is laudable, since his Intention was innocent, with Respect to the Persons upon whom he practised his Stratagem. Does he bring up the Rear of your Visitants, Lady
Maitland?
No, said the Countess, we have Lady
Homespun,
with an
et cetera
of no Characters, yet to come.    
Homespun!
exclaimed Lady
Cribbage,
upon my Word, the best Sort of a Gammer of Quality that I know. The good Woman would really be sensible Company, if she was not so utterly void of Education. Could you think how the poor Creature exposed her Ignorance the other Day? she popped in where I was engaged at four handed
Cribbige.
Having peered over the Game with vast Sagacity; what, says she, I think your Ladyship has got to your old Game of
Quadrille.
Ha, ha, ha! Lady
Homespun,
I fancy, is one of those who think of getting into a Fashion, exactly at the Period that others have got out.
Madam, said the Countess, if Lady
Homespun
had Time to spare, from the Duties of Religion and a Life of Benevolence, she would undoubtedly employ it in studying Matters more suitable to your Ladyship's Taste. Her Peccadillos, however, are pardonable on Account of her Pleasantry; for while she laughs, with great Justice, at the Follies of high Life; she laughs at herself also, with great good Humour, for being so sensibly out of the Fashion.
Here again was a loud rapping; and the Peals were repeated, with little intermission, till all the Company arrived. They succeeded so quickly, that Lady
Maitland
had scarce Time to receive each of them with a Distinction, and Manner of Address, that she judged most agreeable to their Humours and Characters.
In the first Place, Mrs.
Philligree
rushed in and cried, Lady
Maitland
I am most superlatively your's. I am your's, Madam, said the Countess, positively, beyond all Comparison.    Such a Stranger as Miss
Trinket!
you have enquired the Way at last, then. I felicitate you, Miss, on your new Acquisition. I am told that your Green Monkey is absolutely the greatest Beau, and the greatest Wit, within the Purlieus of Saint
James?
  Sir
Bumkin Toilette,
how happy you make us! I hear you have got rid of all your vile Country-Incumbrances of huge Houses and dirty Acres, and that the Court may now hope to have you all to itself.    Mr.
Faddle,
this was a Favour I ought not to have expected. Her Grace has Company this Evening and looks for you, without Question. But, hark'ee Sir! there are some here who have too much Discernment to be induced, by your Arts, to make a Jest of a certain Person who claims their best Respects.    Mrs.
Mawkin!
you put us under a thousand Alarms; we were afraid we should'dn't have you. Dear Madam, how extremely rich and elegant is all this! and how condescending, in a Lady of your Taste, to appear to owe any Thing to Dress and outward Ornament. O, Mr.
Bustle,
thrice welcome! our Sex may now boast of having a Servant. For, these other Man-Creatures are so listless, or so awkward, as not to merit a Curtsey in the way of Wages  My Lord
Mansfield,
this is more than an Honour, it is a Benefit. If some of us are not improved before you leave us; I shall, for my own Part, take great Blame to myself  My dear Lady
Homespun!
how are the sweet Babies? how are your obliging Domestics, how are all your Cats and Dogs? believe me, I take an Interest in the Harmony and good Humour of every Thing about you. I think, said Lady
Homespun,
they all begin to droop, since your Ladyship has ceased to make them happy by your Presence.
The Earl of
Mansfield,
looking about, perceived Mr.
Fenton,
turned precipitately to him and, catching him in his Arms, Mr.
Fenton,
he cried, how glad I am to meet you, what an Advantage I shall esteem it at all Times and in all Places! how is my
Harry,
my little Hero? Mr.
Fenton
bowed twice.
Here,
William,
said the Countess, Tea and Coffee! and order the Tables and Cards to be laid in the next Room. Lord
Mansfield,
what News? you are an Intimate of all the Foreign Cabinets.
Our domestic News, answered the Earl, is by far the most extraordinary. It is affirmed that our Freeholders, throughout the Shires and Burroughs of
England,
have entered into a Resolution against Bribery and Corruption.
Our Parliament also have this Moment, in agitation, an Act for establishing the two Virtues of PROBITY and CHASTITY, respectively, among the Sexes. To this Act they further propose to add several Clauses, in the Nature of a Codicil annexed to a Will. Among others, it is intended to make a general Exchange of the Forms of good Manners, for the Offices of good Nature; and all Acts of Benevolence are hereafter to pass, by an immutable Law, for Proofs of high Breeding.
It is further to be enacted, that every Courtier or great Man may be sued upon his Promise; or even on such Intimations of Nods, Smiles, or Whispers, or Squeezes by the Hand, as may credibly be supposed to keep People in Expectation. No Advantage is to be taken of Ignorance by any Trader, nor of Innocence in the Commerce between the Sexes. The Glow of Modesty is the only Rouge that will be allowed to any fair Face of Quality, in these his Majesty's Dominions.
No Person of any Station, will hereafter be permitted to go abroad in search of Faults, till they can find none at Home by the help of a Candle. And lastly, all Slander is to be accounted petty Treason; forasmuch as it has been intimated, some how or other, that the Loss of a good Name is more deplorable, in its Consequences, than the Loss of any other Property, or even of Life.
Hey Day! exclaims the Countess, at this Rate we shall have Lady
Homespun
at the very tip Top of the Mode.    Ay, says Miss
Trinket,
but what will become of your Ladyship, who are now accounted the Pattern of all Elegance and Politeness? O Miss, cried Mr.
Faddle,
Lady
Maitland
will do well enough I warrant you. She has only to drop a few Articles that are superfluous to her good Sense and her good Nature. She will thereby, as I take it, be only undressed, and happily restored to all her native Loveliness.
Dem'me, exclaims Sir
Bumkin,
if Matters come to this pass, I shall have made a fine Kettle of Fish on't, shan't I? to throw away so many thousands of Pounds, with an Immensity of Time and Pains on Delicacy, and Taste, and Virtu, and the Beau-Monde, and all that  What, cries Mrs.
Mawkin,
are our Parliament beside themselves? here has the World been growing up, these six thousand Years, to its grand Climacteric of courtly Accomplishments, and now they would overthrow the whole Building, and mix us of the Pinnacle with the Dust of the Vulgar. If we of high Life are to be laid under Restraints, with Cits and Villagers, what Advantage will Fortune give us? it will no longer be of any Use to its Owners.   This is preposterously, cried Mrs.
Philligree,
the most laughable Scheme that ever was conceivable on this Side the Tropic. Our Parliament would affect to be an heteroclite to all other Parliaments. But the best on't is that their Power is immensely too little for the Greatness of the Immensity of their Undertaking  Pardon me, Madam, replied the Colonel, I know of nothing beyond the Ability of our Parliament. In Spirituals, alike as Temporals, their Power is the same in
England
as that of the
Pope
is at
Rome;
they can bind or loose, at Pleasure, in
Heaven
as on
Earth
  Beside, Madam, adds
Sneer,
with Respect to our Parliament, this is very far from being a laughable Scheme; I rather hold it to be both loveable and laudable. They must thereby forego no inconsiderable Advantages on their own Part. They will no longer be interested in the Prostitution of their Constituents, or the Sale of their Country. They have it even in Contemplation to decline their capital. Privilege of maintaining their Families at the Expense of their Neighbours; and propose, for the future, to pay their Debts.   I hope, my Lord, says Mr.
Bustle,
your new Laws are not to be put in Force against the Offices of Friendship and civil Manners. No, Sir, says Lord
Mansfield,
only against the Parade of them.
Here, Mr.
Bustle
observed that the Coffee was filled out, and rose with Precipitation to help the Ladies. --Away you Wretch, keep from me a Mile! screamed out Lady
Cribbage.
No nearer, dear Sir, no nearer I beseech you, exclaimed Mrs.
Philligree
and Miss
Trinket.
--Mr.
Bustle,
says Lord
Mansfield,
I would advise you to tender your Services to Lady
Maitland
and Lady
Homespun;
if you happen to spill your Coffee on their Clothes, you will oblige them with an Apology for giving them away to the first poor Body. --I wish my Lord, says Lady
Cribbage,
that you knew how to Compliment some, with less Expense to others. But apropos, my Lord, these same compassive Acts against Slander, and going from Home in search of Faults, as you phrase it; have they yet passed into a Law? --they have not, Madam. --O, then we may take Goodman Time by the Fetlock. Pray, Ladies, have ye heard any Thing lately of the two Miss
Worthy's?
--nothing new, answered the Countess, nothing more than that they are both very good and very amiable. --Poor Orphans, says Lady
Cribbage,
they are greatly to be pitied. The eldest has preferred an Intrigue with her Guardian's Footman to the honourable Addresses of Mr.
Melvin,
and is retired for a Month or so to her Aunt in the Country. While her Sister, on the other Hand, preferred lawful Marriage with the Butler to a Settlement of a thousand a Year from his Grace of
A
  . Miss
Worthy,
said Mr.
Faddle,
is certainly gone to her Aunt's, as your Ladyship intimated, for Mr.
Melvin
and I are to be with her in a few Days, by her own Appointment.    And I can vouch, added the Colonel, that her Sister has married the Butler your Ladyship mentions, for he is a very particular Friend of mine; a young Gentleman of great Merit, Family and Fortune, who assumed that Disguise, like a Hero in Romance, in order to gain the nearer Access to his Princess.
For Shame, Gentlemen, says Lord
Mansfield,
no more of your Vindications I beseech ye. Perhaps there is not a single Person, present, who is not at this Moment a Subject of Raillery, mayhap of Calumny to some other Tea Table. Let us also take up the Racket and return the Ball of Scandal. Indeed, I know few People of whom any good can be said, and none who may not be censured, without Offence to Truth. Beside, as Evil is now spoken so universally of every Body, no one is hurt thereby. If any, in particular, should escape Detraction, it might justly be suspected that they had no one Quality that deserved to be envied.
O fye, my Lord, cried Lady
Cribbage,
how can you think so uncharitably of People? there are many of my Acquaintance who have really valuable Qualities. 'Tis true, there is Lady
Gamelove,
and Mrs.
Situp,
and Miss
Freak,
and a Hundred others whose Heads will fit the Cap of Scandal turn it which way you will. But then there is Mrs.
Orderly,
and Miss
Neighbourly,
and a few more whose Reputations remain almost quite unsullied. If Mrs.
Orderly
has Faults, she however has the Discretion to keep them from View. Miss
Neighbourly,
indeed, does not set up for a Beauty; she knows she will have nothing to repent of for any Murders committed by her pinking Eyes; but then she is the best tempered and pleasantest Body breathing; she never fails to excite Merriment wherever she comes; 'tis a pity it should ever happen at her own Expense.
Have ye heard, Ladies, said Mr.
Sneer,
of the late very facetious Affair that happened, between Mr.
Cornish
and his Friend Lord
Freelove?
Mrs.
Cornish
had expressed to her Husband, an eager Desire of seeing foreign Countries; and, piqued at his want of Indulgence, she took the Opportunity of Lord
Freelove
's going abroad to accompany him as far as
Aix la Chapelle.
From thence Lord
Freelove
wrote to his Friend, a long Letter filled with penitential Apologies, wherein he offered him the Disposal of his Fortune and Interest, as a small Compensation for having robbed him of so very valuable a Treasure. To this Mr.
Cornish
had the Candour to reply that he scorned to take an ungenerous Advantage of his Lordship's Liberality. That he was not sensible of any Injury his Lordship had done him. That, on the contrary, he looked upon his Lordship, as the one, under Heaven, to whom he was most obliged; to whom he considered himself as singularly indebted; and whom he should ever remember in his Prayers, for having eased him of the capital Incumbrance of his Life.
What surprises me most in this Adventure, said Mr.
Faddle,
is the Conscientiousness of Lord
Freelove
in a Matter of which nobody else makes a Scruple There is Sir
Frederic Feeble,
a Man of threescore, and of so crazy a Constitution that the very first Disorder, with a little Help from the Doctor, must carry him off. And yet, within these seven Months, he has added to his Seraglio five
Lancashire
Virgins, beside three married Ladies whom he has taken into keeping, and who eloped to him from young and good looking Husbands.
Mr.
Faddle
's Remark on the Conscientiousness of Libertines, said Mr.
Fenton,
reminds me of
Jack Wilding,
a quondam Acquaintance of mine. I had the Story from himself; it is an Adventure of which he boasted; and the Recital, in his Opinion, did by no Means detract from his Character, as a Gentleman.
Mr.
Wilding
was of a neighbouring Country, and was educated by pious Parents, in a scrupulous Observance of his Duties to God and Man. When they thought him confirmed in his civil and religious Principles, they sent him here to study our Laws in the Middle Temple; where he speedily learned that Pleasure was the only Good, and that the Laws of Nature were irreversible by any subsequent Appointments. However, he piqued himself extremely on what is called the Punctilio of Honour, and would run any Man through the Body who should intimate that he had been guilty of an unjust or ungenerous Action.
Wilding
was a young Fellow of Parts and Pleasantry, and still preserved a very specious Appearance of Virtue. A considerable
London
Merchant conceived a Friendship for him; and, when he was taken under Arrest, on Account of some Debts and a Failure of Remittances, his new Friend advanced two hundred Pounds in his Favour, and made him a general Invitation to his Table.
The Merchant had lately married a lovely young Woman, who lost nothing of her Lustre in the Eyes of Mr.
Wilding.
For the sake of the Wife, he ingratiated himself as much as possible with the Husband. He spent a large Portion of his Time at their House; and while his Friend was abroad, or engaged in the Counting Room, he endeavoured, by a winning Address, and a thousand Assiduities, to thieve from him the conjugal Affections of a Woman, on whose Virtue he deposited his Hopes and Delights, all the Honours of his Family, and all his Peace and Prospect in Life.
Wilding,
in order to establish his Credit with the Merchant, had punctually reimbursed him his two hundred Pounds. A Nobleman, to whom the Dice had been lately unfavourable, made him an Offer of a Place at Court on a preliminary Compliment of a thousand Pounds.
Wilding
consulted his Friend on this advantageous Proposal. The Merchant had not the Money but promised to procure it, and, in his Eagerness to promote the Fortune of this Traitor, he went directly and solicitously abroad for the Purpose. This was an Opportunity which a Man of his Gallantry could not neglect. The grateful Mr.
Wilding
accordingly seized upon it to accomplish the Fate of his Benefactor; and the happiest Lot he left him was, ignorantly, to contribute toward the begetting of Sons and Daughters who, like Maggots, were to be propagated from the Bed of Pollution.
If I didn't fear to be tedious, said Lady
Homespun,
I could give you a recent Instance of Ingratitude even greater than that which Mr.
Fenton
has mentioned, and attended with Circumstances that affected me extremely. The Company instantly urged her to gratify their Curiosity, and she began as follows.
Some Weeks ago, I sent to the Servants Office to enquire for a Female of some Education, who might assist me in the Instruction of my little Girls. The Day following a young Woman came to be hired. Her Appearance was most bespeaking; and, with a Countenance expressive of every Virtue, she looked a Renunciation of the smallest Title thereto.
I asked for her Character, but she answered, with an Air of the deepest Humiliation, that she never had been at Service; that she was an unfortunate Stranger who deserved no one's good Word, and that she had nothing to ask but my Acceptance of her Labour, and the Shelter of my Roof.
I had not the Heart to reject her; and on Trial I found that she was Mistress of the polite Languages, and of every female Accomplishment, though she did not seem to have reached her two and twentieth Year.
She grew extremely fond of my Children. She used to look with a melancholy Kind of Pleasure upon them; and frequently during the Times of her dressing or instructing them, I observed her Tears striving to steal away unnoticed.
This, with the thousand Elegancies that accompanied her Words and Actions, made me impatient to know whence and who she was. She perceived my Curiosity and with a befeeching and mortified Air, ah Madam! said she, seek not to hate me; seek not to know the Story of my Shame, since it cannot be told without reflecting Discredit on Persons of Worth and Honour.
The Day after, Sir
Hanmer Homespun
came in, where
Peggy,
for so she called herself, was chatting with my little Girls at the further End of the Room. I am come, my Dear, said he, from a Visit to Mr.
Grace,
the new Acquaintance in whose Praise you heard me speak so largely. I enquired out his House and went up without Ceremony. As I entered his Chamber, I was struck with a new and very affecting Object. He sat opposite to a Pier Glass wherein I observed him, unnoticed; and on each Knee he held an Infant, over whom he wept plentifully, while he caressed them, in Turns, and tenperly pressed them to his Bosom.
At length he perceived me and rose in Confusion. You have caught me, Sir
Hanmer,
said he, lamenting the Loss of a false Woman, whom yet I cannot cease to love, and whose Fault has not been able to abate my Fondness for these her innocent Offspring. The misguided Wretch, while I was lately in the Country, eloped with Lord
Riot
from her own Honour and Happiness. Lord
Riot
has since paid his Trespass with his Life, but what is become of my
Peggy
I know not. Can I depend on your Goodness to enquire her out? 'tis a Pity that One so lovely should be utterly lost. Here is a Bill for Â£500, dispose of it, my Friend, as you think best for her Advantage, and let not her Necessities plunge her deeper in Guilt.
Here the Children shrieked out, and cried that
Peggy
was dead, their
Peggy
was dead! We instantly ran to 'em, and found her in a Fit, in which she continued several Hours without Sign of Life. As soon as she opened her Eyes, she turned them languidly upon me. Ah Madam! said she, you know me now. I am faulty indeed, but much more unfortunate. And, as you were lately desirous to hear my Story, you shall have it without Extenuation or Disguise.
I am Daughter to a poor Farmer who was Tenant to the Father of Mr.
Grace.
When I was about nine Years old, the young Gentleman, who was lately returned from the College, happened to be out a Sporting, and called in at my Father's. I considered him as a Species quite different from all I had seen of Man. His Presence gave me a Pleasure till then unfelt, and his Parting was as the Loss of something extremely dear.
From that Time he chose our Part of the Country for the Scene of his Diversions, and his Visits became longer and more frequent. He never failed to bring me some little Present, and I betrayed my Affection by many artless Testimonies.
In about three Years, old Mr.
Grace
died. My Father got, no one knew how, into plentiful Circumstances, and sent me to a boarding School where I was carefully educated in all the becomming Matters of which I was capable.
I now began to apprehend from whom my Advantages flowed, and my young Heart was penetrated with the most lively and affecting Gratitude. I grew more reserved however, as my Sentiments grew more ardent; and, whenever my Benefactor came to visit me, we appeared under a mutual Restraint from the Suppression of Passions, which I thought it indecent, and he unseasonable to express.
When I arrived to the Age of sixteen Years, Mr.
Grace
publicly addressed me for Marriage. Can you think it, Madam, that while my Heart embraced the Overture with the warmest Transport; it was yet with the strongest Reluctance, that I yielded to a Happiness which I deemed so injurious to the Honour and Interest of him whom I loved, as I loved my own Soul.
Five Years, the happiest sure that ever were passed upon Earth, I lived blessing and blessed by my Heart's chosen Master, and bore him three lovely Resemblances of the Image that was always present to my Soul.
One Night Mr.
Grace,
returning later than usual, brought home a wounded Gentleman, but entered as privately as possible for fear of alarming me. This Gentleman was Lord
Riot,
whose Life Mr.
Grace
had saved, at the Peril of his own, from the Resentment of an injured Husband who had set upon him with Advantage.
As it was feared that his Wounds were mortal, the Surgeons advised that he should not be removed, and he lay six Weeks at our House, where, induced by Hospitality and the Desire of my Husband, I attended him with a Care and Tenderness that he rewarded with Perdition.
When he took his Leave of us, he seemed to labour under a Sense of insufferable Obligations. As soon as his Health was established, he sent me a Diamond Necklace of great Value; but Mr.
Grace
was then in the Country, and I directly returned the Traitor's Present. The next Day he sent up his Name and requested to be admitted; but I excused myself from receiving the Visits of Gentlemen in the Absence of my Husband. The Day following however, having bribed my Servants, he was permitted to enter my Chamber; when, without addressing a Word to his Lordship, I severely rebuked my Maid for such an insolent Intrusion, and withdrawing hastily to my Closet, I clapped to the Door.
After this I heard no more of Lord
Riot
for some Time, but, alas! he and his diabolical Instruments were not idle. One Evening, being seized with an unaccountable Drowziness, I lay down and was insensible to every Thing that passed, till I awakened the Day following in a strange Bed, and in the Arms of my cruel and accursed Undoer.
I instantly screamed out and, pushing him violently from me, sprung into the Floor. While I huddled on my clothes, all the Horrors of my Condition rose full upon my View. I flew to the Door, but finding it locked, I was seized with sudden Madness. I dashed the Piers and Jars to Shivers. I caught whatever came in my way and threw it at the Villain who, terrified by my Fury, made his Escape through a back Door and bolted it after him.
Some Women whom he sent to me recovered me from a Fit. The dear and tender Images of Husband and Children then came to my Mind. My Rage was drowned in my Grief, I wept and sobbed without ceasing.
For three Weeks I continued thus immured and inconsolable, my Fits of Frenzy still returning whenever Lord
Riot
presented himself to my View. At length I assumed the Patience to expostulate with him on the irretrievable Ruin he had brought upon me, my Wreck of Fame and Honour, and what was infinitely worse, my Loss of Husband and Children, to whose Faces I never more should dare to lift an Eye.
While I continued to reproach my Betrayer, we heard a Bustle below Stairs. He flew to some Pistols that hung in the Apartment. The Door burst open. My Husband suddenly entered. Lord
Riot
fired at him, and somebody fell. But I waited not to enquire into the Issue of the Scuffle. The Face of my injured Husband was now more dreadful to me than that of my Ravisher. The Doors lay open. I hurried to the Street. I flew along I knew not where, and running into a little Shop, I sat down by the Counter, and fainted away.
The poor Woman of that little House behaved herself toward me with much Humanity. I told her Part of my unhappy Story. And, as I determied for ever to hide myself from Family and Acquaintance, and as far as possible from the World; she put me in the way of getting into Service, whereby I have received the only Consolation of which I am capable, on this Side the Grave, that of your Ladyship's Favour and Protection.
Here Mrs.
Grace
closed her distressful History. As Sir
Hanmer
and I greatly pitied and esteemed her, we endeavoured to give her Comfort, by observing that there was nothing in this Adventure, wherewith the most censorious, or even a Husband of the most delicate Sentiments could reproach her. Ah Madam, said she, when my Body was as pure as my Spirit, I was every way unworthy of Mr.
Grace,
and shall I now bring Pollution to his honourable Bosom? How will the World interpret my residing three Weeks in the House and Custody of a Libertine? Alas, I have no Portion save Disgrace to bequeath to my dear Infants, nor any Legacy to my Kindred but Confusion of Face. But  I feel that I hasten to the End of my Sorrows.
As she spoke her Countenance altered, and we persuaded her to lye down and try to take some Repose.
Within an Hour or two after, a Gentleman came and hastily enquired for my Husband. It was Mr.
Grace.
My dear Sir
Hanmer,
said he eagerly, rejoice with me! my
Peggy
is innocent, she is virtuous as ever. That Ruffian Lord
Riot,
by the Promise of a thousand Guineas, prevailed on her Woman to give her a sleeping Potion, and had her conveyed to his House during her State of Insensibility. O my
Peggy,
might I but behold you once again!
Riot,
finding it impossible to subdue her to his Pleasure, refused to pay the Woman the Price of her Perfidy, and she in Revenge told me where he held my Wife secreted. O my distressed, my shamefaced Angel, what is become of you? I took out a Replevin and forced my way into the Villain's House. He aimed a Pistol at me, but happened to shoot his Accomplice. He then drew his Sword, but at the second Pass I pierced him to the Heart. The Traitress did not immediately die of her Wound; she survived till within this Hour, and in her mortal Agonies she revealed to me all the Circumstances of this diabolical Plot.
Here we consoled Mr.
Grace,
by informing him that his Lady was safe and in the House, but that she was something indisposed and had lain down to rest. His Impatience was too great to be restrained from seeing her. I entered her Chamber first, and apprised her of his coming. As he tenderly approached, she started up in her Bed, and her Bosom was agitated with agonizing Emotions. She gazed wildly at him. She attempted to speak but could not find Utterance; when seizing his Hand, and catching it to her Lips, she sunk down gently, and expired upon the Pressure.
As some of the Company still continued to honour Lady
Homespun
's pathetic Narration with their Tears. Lady
Cribbage
cried out, Cards, Cards here immediately, to drive away Melancholy!
After Cards, an elegant Supper was served up; and after Supper the Conversation happened to turn upon Dress.
Is it not amazing, cried
Sneer,
(with a sarcastical Glance at the Ladies) is it not amazing to think that the Nature and Reason of Things should be so wholly inverted as, in some Cases, to mean and effect the very Reverse of their original Intention and Institution? the first use that was made of the
Fig-Leaf
demonstrates that
Dress
was solely appointed for the covering of Shame and Nakedness. And yet Woman has been so ingenious, in Process of Time, as to turn the Loss of her Robe of original Innocence, into Matter of Pride and Ostentation.
The covering from Cold as well as from Shame, said
Faddle,
may be allowed of some sensible Use, with respect to
Dress;
at least among us who are placed so far North of the Tropic.
Our Neighbour
Lewis,
last Winter, had Occasion to pass through the Streets of
Paris.
His travelling Palace was drawn by eight white Steeds. The Frost was intensely sharp; the Glasses were all drawn up; and this warm Enterpriser for universal Monarchy sat shivering amidst the wrappings of his Furrs and Robeings.
As he passed, he espied a young Man of a portly Personage, standing at an Angle, clad in a single Silk Coat, with his Hair powdered out, and his Hat under his Arm.
Lewis
instantly pulled the Bell; his Coach stopped; he let down a side Window; he ordered the Stranger to be called; and, as nothing makes a Man so mannerly as the sensible want of something from the Party to whom he applies, the Monarque addressed him with the most gracious and affable Air, and requested to know by what Means he could keep himself so warm, in such Extremity of Weather.
That, Sire, answered the Stranger, is a Secret which my Honour forbids me to reveal, and which nothing shall extort from me, save the Commands of your Majesty. I promise you, Sir, said the King, that I shall not be ungrateful, and that you shall have no Cause to repent your having entrusted me with your Recipe. I engage then, Sire, that provided you follow my Prescription, there shall not be so warm a Monarch in the Universe. I am impatient, pray inform me, what am I to do? As I do, so please your Majesty, put your whole Wardrobe upon your Back! the King laughed himself into a Heat, and that very Hour ordered a Commission in his own Guards to be made out for his Prescriber.
Your Story, Mr.
Faddle,
is elegantly facetious, said Lady
Maitland.
I apprehend however that other valuable Purposes are answered by
Dress,
over and above the mere
Decency
and
Comfort
of Cloathing. Were it not for the various Distinctions of
Dress,
it would be impossible to point out the several Orders of Men throughout the respective Subordinations that are nenessary to Society. Without this useful Expedient, we should be in utter Confusion, we should not know who was who; we should not know to whom Respect or Obedience was due, nor be able to ascertain the Prince from the Peasant.
O lud, cried Mrs.
Mawkin,
as your Ladyship says, how frightfully humbling and mortifying it would be! without the Richness of
Dress,
how should we of the Grand Monde show any Difference between ourselves and vile Plebeians?
O Madam, answered Lady
Cribbage,
Plebeians are not confined to low Life alone; the great World has its Vulgar too, I assure you. The Difference does not lie in the Richness; I have seen an Ass clothed in a very gorgeous Sumpter-Cloth. The true Distinction lies in wearing the Qualities of the Mind on the outward Habit, in the Peculiarity of Fancy and Elegance of Taste.
Your Ladyship might surely have added, said Miss
Trinket,
that
Dress
is a Handmaid to Beauty too; it serves to adorn and embellish Nature with Art, and to make what was lovely still more attracting. However brilliant a Diamond may be in itself, it wants of its Value and Lustre, till suitably set; there may be an Elegance to be sure in the Manner of setting, but still it ought to be cased in nothing but Gold.
I greatly Iament the Departure of Mrs.
Philligree,
said Lord
Mansfield,
it is she who would have adorned your Ornaments, Ladies; and have dressed out
Dress
itself, in a sumptuous OutrÃ¨ of Terms, and new Cut of Phrase. I agree indeed with the Countess, that some Tokens or Markings, such as those that
Dress
supplies, are requisite for distinguishing the several Orders and Subordinations of People in a Community; but I am sorry to find that these same Markings or Tokens should, very nearly, engross the whole of the Things intended to be signified. If you take the full-bottomed Wig from a Judge, what will become of his Wisdom? or Lawn and Sattin from Bishops, what would become of their Sanctity? or, should Monarchs be deprived of their Crowns and Regalia, I doubt it would be a fearful Abridgment of Majesty.
I also agree with Lady
Cribbage
that the Qualities of the Mind are worn on the outward Habit. But, pray ye, what Sort of internal Qualities do those external Habits exhibit? even every Species of Affectation, Folly and Vanity that is conceivable. The whole futile Soul of a Female seems to have forsaken its frail Mansion and to float upon the Surface of her Attire. In the long Labours of the Toilette, where so much Pains, Time, and Treasure is expended on an elaborate Externity, does not a Woman as good as confess that the whole of her Value lies where the whole of her Care is bestowed?
Now, in all these Operations, Female Vanity proposes to excite the same Sensations in others, that it feels in and for itself, on the pleasing Contemplation of its own Image. Ah misdeeming and pitiable Objects! while ye pass along, or sit exalted in your imaginary Pre-eminence, some of your Sex behold you with an Eye of Contempt, others with an Eye of Envy, and all with an Eye of Malevolence, inquisitive after your Miscarriages, and desirous of publishing and magnifying the smallest of your Failings.
Men, indeed, behold you with an Eye of Pleasure, because they draw an Inference from your Vanity that flatters their own. They contemplate you as dressing at them. They consider the Labours of your Toilette as a Confession of
desiring to be desired;
as an Advance on your Part, and a Kind of Challenge for them to approach and capitulate.
I own that Beauty, as Miss
Trinket
has observed, may occasionally derive a Sort of Accession from
Dress,
like a Diamond encased in precious Metal. But how much more generally do we observe conceited Ugliness and Deformity deriving additional Darkness from the Lustre that surrounds it, like a Turnip or Toadstool encircled by Gems.
Whether Finery gives additional Force to the Magnet of Beauty, for exciting and drawing our Affections to it, is an Article of which I am much in doubt. What say you to this Question, Mr.
Fenton?
I hold, my Lord, said Mr.
Fenton,
that Finery is merely a
Narcissus,
that neither loves nor is beloved by any except itself. It is much to be questioned whether Belle or Beau ever engaged the Affections of any sensible Person of the opposite Sex; and, where they themselves have been susceptible of the delicate Passion, they from that Moment ceased to be Belles or Beaus.
Paris
is the only Beau, as I remember, that ever was capable of loving a Woman; and yet, as you all know, she was not a dressed Lady to whom he gave the Prize.
Dame
Iris
was the greatest Belle in all the Heaven of Pagan Theology. She was, as we may say, the female
Joseph,
dressed out in her gay Coat of many Colours; and yet we do not find that she ever attracted the love of a single Immortal, or even Mortal, though she duly and daily Visits them in all her Finery, and fails not to shed Showers of Tears at their Disdain.
Finery may dazzle, it may awe, but cannot possibly excite the smallest Pittance of Affection. This can alone be done by something more personal, by something less superficial. Even the
simplex Mundities,
that Ornament of a clean Simplicity, recommended by
Horace,
can operate only by Intimation of deeper Purity. The Virtues alone can weave the truly enchanting Robe of Female Influence, and the Graces alone gird on the
Caestus
or Girdle of irresistible Beauty.
Among the infinite Variety of Female Fashions, which in Turns have been fantastically predominant upon Earth, I remember but of one so very obsolete as not to have revived in some distant Age or Climate. That the Memory of this same Fashion should not be wholly lost, it is recorded by Saint
Paul
in his first Epistle to
Timothy.
Here he recommends it to the Ladies to
adorn themselves with Sobriety and Shamefacedness, not with broidered Hair, or Gold, or Pearls, or costly Array.
Saint
Paul
however, in this Piece of Advice, appears to have spread a Net for the Hearts of his own Sex. The haughty, reluctant, and stubborn Spirit of Man, can reject Wealth and Titles, can look with Indifference on the Symmetry of Shape and Features, and guard itself against the Attacks of Female Artifice; but Female Bashfulness is an unconscious Thief to whom the Doors of all Hearts are instantly thrown open.
In short, the Maid who would atchieve the whole Laurel of Conquest, must not be obvious or obtrusive; like
Daphne,
she must fly though pursued by an
Apollo.
Here the Company, breaking up, gave distinct and pressing Invitations to Mr.
Fenton;
but he politely excused his Attendance for the present, on Account of a Multiplicity of indispensable Business.
On the following Morning, as he sat in his Study, some one tapped at the Door, and, on his desiring them to walk in, who should enter but Lady
Maitland
in an agreeable Dishabille.
Mr.
Fenton,
said she (deeply blushing and hesitating) I, I, --you must think it very odd --I say, Sir, I should not have intruded upon you, thus out of all Form; perhaps indecently unseasonable. --Please to be seated, Madam. --The Business I come upon, Sir, is so very interesting, so concerning to my Peace, that I could not refuse myself this Opportunity of breaking in upon you. --Be assured, my dear Madam, that the greatest Pleasure you can do me is to let me know, as soon as possible, wherein I can serve you.
Here the Countess, looking eagerly and inquisitively on him, put her Hand in her Bosom, took out a Picture, and alternately surveying the one and the other, yes, she cried, it is, it must certainly be so. Then, reaching out the Picture, can you tell me Sir, said she, for whom this was drawn, or rather do you remember to whom you gave it?
Mr.
Fenton
took the Picture, looked at it, and started; when, recollecting Ideas and Passages, as from afar off; good God! he exclaimed, is it possible, can you be my little
Fanny Goodall?
yes, my dearest Cousin, answered the Countess, as surely as you are the still too amiable
Harry Clinton.
Hereupon they both rose suddenly, and Mr.
Fenton,
catching his quondam
Fanny
in his Arms, pressed her to his Bosom with warm and kindred Affection. But the Agitation of the Countess was too big for Utterance, till, resuming her Chair, she gave Scope to her Passion, and burst into a violent Flood of Tears.
After a mutual and affecting Silence; ah! cries Mr.
Fenton,
in a Voice expressive of much Emotion, how am I, my lovely Cousin, to interpret these Tears? am I to consider them as further Proofs of your ancient Aversion to me, or as kindly and dear Instances of your returning Affection? --The Countess answered not; and Mr.
Fenton
continued.
You may remember, my Cousin, that I had very few Relations. My only Brother ever continued to behave himself toward me as an Alien and an Enemy; and my only Uncle and Guardian who, in his later Years, became your Father, was no way agreeable to my Taste or Disposition. In you therefore, from your Infancy, in you alone, my amiable Cousin, I had centred all my Sensations of Fatherhood, Brotherhood, all the Affections and tender Feelings that naturally arise from Kindred and Consanguinity. How have I been delighted with your infantine Prattle, how have I exulted in your opening Charms! on the Death of my first Wife you were my only Consolation; and, in your innocent Caresses and attractive Endearments, I felt a sweetness of Emotion that I never felt before.
On my Return from
France,
with what Transports did you receive me! we grew as it were, in our Embracements, to each other. You were then, as I apprehend, about ten Years of Age. But, on my next Visit, you refused to be seen by me. Soon after, you were taken ill. I daily went with an aching Heart to enquire after your Health, but your Mamma peremptorily refused me Admission to your Presence, till, on your Recovery, you were conveyed from me, and secreted into the Country.
Though this Unkindness went near my Heart, it did not alter my Affections, I still continued to enquire after you, I still continued to be interested in you, and I preferred my ardent Wishes and Prayers to Heaven for your Prosperity.
Mr.
Fenton,
said Lady
Maitland,
(you have unquestionably your Reasons for choosing to be so called) I am very sensible Sir, I say, of your extraordinary Partiality to me from my earliest Years. Your Tenderness, as you mentioned, was that of the fondest of Fathers or Brothers. You knew the Degree and Kind of Affection that was suitable between such Relations, and you kept yourself precisely within the Limits. But alas! for my Part, I knew no such Distinctions. I was as a Piece of Virgin Wax, warmed and willingly yielding to the first kindly Impression. You made that Impression, my Cousin, you made it deep and entire. As I had but the one Heart, so I had but the one Love, and that Love was all your own without Distinction or Degree.
Gracious Heaven, exclaimed Mr.
Fenton,
what is this you tell me, Madam? is it possible that, at your Years, you should actually conceive a Passion for one who might almost have been your Grandfather? ah, if that be the Case, what have I not to answer, for indulging you and myself in those innocent Caresses which, at that Time, fondly constituted the most pleasing Sensations of my Life.
Alas, replied the Countess, if you have any Thing to answer for, on that Account, the Charge indeed is very weighty which I have to bring against you.
I was not eight Years old when I begged this Picture from you, which you generously enriched with this Circlet of Diamonds. Soon after, you went to
France
and, during your Absence, this Picture was my constant Companion, whom I caressed, whom I talked to, and to whom alone I made my Complaints in all my little Matters of Grievance.
I know not by what Instinct or Kind of Cunning it was, that I endeavoured to conceal my Affection for this your Resemblance, and never made my Court to it but when I was alone.
The Morning after your Visit, on your Return from
Paris,
as I was carelessly performing the Business of my little Toilette before the Glass; I took out your Picture, and surveyed it with new and increasing Delight. In the mean Time I did not know that my Mama stood behind me, attentive to all my Motions that were reflected to her by the Mirror. She heard me talk to your Picture, she saw me kiss it and eagerly press it to my Bosom. At last I turned my Eye to the Glass, and perceived a Piece of her Image, whereon I started, coloured, and trembled, and was thrown, I know not why, into the utmost Confusion.
Ah
Fanny,
cried my Mother, what is this that I see? your young Heart, my Child, is certainly affected. Unquestionably you love your Cousin
Clinton.
Ought I not to love him, Madam, does he not love me as well as I love him? No no, my Darling, said my Mother, I would to Heaven that he did. Your Cousin
Clinton
indeed is worthy of all Love, but then he has lately given away his Heart to another. He is married, my
Fanny.
  And can't he love me still, for all that, Madam ?    By no Means, my sweet Innocent. When once a Man marries, he vows and swears, and obliges himself to love nobody living but his Wife; and what is more, my
Fanny,
it is accounted very naughty in any Girl to think of loving such a one afterwards.
What Emotions did I then feel, what a Conflict of opposing Passions! but Resentment, for the Time, got the upper Hand. I had yet formed no Idea of the Relations of Sex, or Matrimony, or any conjugal Obligation, save that of Love alone. But then it was sufficient to me that I had given you my whole Heart, that nothing less than your whole Heart could satisfy me in return; and I felt myself offended and outraged to the last Degree, by your having imparted a Share thereof to another.
The Day following, as I sat, languid and much discomposed, as well by my Passion as want of Rest the Night before; my Mama came up to tell me that you were below and enquired for me. No, no, my dearest Mama, said I, it doesn't't signify, I will not see him. Let him go to whomever he loves best.    But, what shall I say to him, my
Fanny,
what Excuse shall I make  No Matter for Excuses, Madam, tell him that I never desire to see his Face any more.
As something informed me that you could not help still loving me a little, I laid hold of that little Love to pique, and disoblige, and be revenged of you for your Perfidy; and as long as you staid, the Thoughts of the Pain and Uneasiness I presumed you were under gave me vast Delight. But, as soon as I was told you were gone, my Heart sunk down, as from a Mount of Triumph into a Depth of Desolation.
My Mama came up to console me. She highly applauded my Spirit and the Resentment I had showed; and she blamed you for marrying another, at a Time that you pretended so much Fondness to me. She further endeavoured to set me against your Age. She told me that you must soon be old and ugly and wrinkled, and that you was much fitter to be my Father than my Lover. She also spoke to me of my vast Fortune, of my Beauty and soforth; and that I might have my pick and choice of all the young and handsome Earls and Dukes in the Nation. She opened to me, in a Variety of glittering Prospects, all the Pleasures and Advantages of Wealth, Title, State, Equipage, with the Respect and Admiration of Crowds bending around me. As she represented them to my Imagination, I caught at each of them for Comfort; but alas, I did not find you among them, and all to me became empty.
That Night, my tender Mama forsook her own Bed and came to lie in mine. I saw that she had been afflicted; so, for fear of adding to her Trouble, I suppressed my own Emotions, and pretending to be asleep, I lay quiet by her Side, till toward Morning, when I was seized with a violent Fever. During my Illness I was told that you came daily to enquire about me; and that, I believe, above all Things contributed to my Recovery. One Day, my Mama came and informed me that you sat below in Tears, and earnestly requested to be permitted to see me. O, how sweet and comforting did those Tears seem to drop upon my Heart; but, mustering all my little Pride and remaining Dignity, no, no, my Mama, I cried, I will die first! if he doesn't't first unmarry himself I will never see him any more.
When I had gotten Strength enough to walk about the Chamber, my Mama and I being alone, I went to my Drawer; and taking out your Picture, and turning my Head aside, I reached it to her, saying, here Madam, take this and lock it up from me; for while I love it and hate it so much, it Troubles me to look at it. My Mama thereupon took it from me, and caught me to her Bosom, but, without saying a Word, she burst into Tears and straight quitted the Room.
As soon as it was judged that I was able to travel, my Parents, by the Advice of their Doctors, took me far into the Country. My Mother, in the mean Time, had unquestionably confided my Secret to my Father; for, though he was naturally of a severe and backward Temper, he became extremely tender and indulgent toward me.
As I was the only Child they ever had, their whole Care and Solicitude was affectionately employed in procuring me a Variety of Gratifications and Amusements. When I was in Spirits, they were in a Kind of Triumph; but my Dejection was to them the most grievous of all Oppressions. They took down my
French
Mistress and Music Master with them; and they collected from all Parts the most agreeable set of Misses and Masters that they could muster; so that my Time was portioned out the most happily that could be between Business and Recreations that were equally pleasing. They had taken Care that your Name should never be mentioned before me; and though, at Times, my Soul was athirst and my Ear opened and turned to hear Tidings concerning you, yet a certain native Bashfulness and fear of offending against Decency, did not permit me to enquire after you.
Thus a Length of Absence, and a Variety of Dissipations by Degrees greatly abated the Ardour of my Passion, insomuch that I did not seem to feel any more for you. When any Occasion, however, renewed in me the Impression of former Scenes, a thrilling Sort of Chilness would run through my Blood. And, at other Times, when alone and thinking of you, a swimming kind of Stupor would fall sadly upon my Soul.
On our Return to
London
after five Years Absence, the great Number of People, with the Novelty and Variety of Objects that crowded upon my View, amused and engaged my whole Attention. But, when we entered the old Mansion; when I turned my Eyes on the Places where you sat, where you walked, where you talked and used to caress me, you became as it were actually visible to my Eyes; something seemed to wring my Heart, and I was seized with a Sickness near to Fainting. I took hold of my Maid by the Arm, and with her Help walked into the Garden for fresh Air; but there too you had got before me, on the Terrace, in the Walks and Alleys, where you used to run feigned Races with me, and to gather Fruit for me, and to play with me at bob Cherry, and afterwards to press the Lips that had gained the Prize. I then turned away from a Place that afforded me no Asylum from you. My Mother met and eagerly asked what ailed me; let us go, Mama, I cried, let us go some where else, I am not able to stay in this Place any longer. Accordingly, that very Evening we removed to Lodgings; and, in a few Days, my Dada took and furnished a new House.
I shall not dwell, my dear Sir, on a trivial Detail of the many Circumstances and little Incidents that happened during the Space of four succeeding Years. An Infinity of Suitors paid their Addresses to me or my Fortune, I neither knew nor cared to which, for I continued alike insensible to all. It is true that during such a Number of Years, having neither seen nor heard from you, I dropped all Thoughts of you, and scarce retained the Traces or Lineaments of your Person or Aspect. From the Impression however which you left in my Mind, I had formed to myself a dear though confused Image of the Lovely, of the Desirable, and this I looked for every where, but could no where find any Resemblance thereof.
In the mean Time my Parents urged me strongly to Matrimony. They affectingly represented that they should not die in Peace, if I did not afford them the Prospect of perpetuating themselves in my Offspring: such is the fond Succedaneum which short lived Creatures propose for eking out their Existence, and supplying the Lot of an inevitable Mortality by the flattering though poor Substitute of a Name, or bare Remembrance.
At length I told my Parents that, as I could not form any Choice of my own, I would trust wholly to their judgement, and take up with whomsoever they should be pleased to appoint. Hereupon they recommended the Earl of
Maitland
to me. I kept to my Promise, and we were consequently married.
My Husband was comely in his Person, easy and affable in his Temper, and a Man of singular Sense and Letters for a Lord. He loved me with Passion, and, as I could not pay him in Specie, I endeavoured to supply my want of Affection to him by my Attention and Assiduities.
On the fifth Year of my Marriage my Father died of a good old Age; and in four Years more my dearest Mother left me desolate. In her I lost the only Object of fond Affections that I had upon Earth, and my Looks tacitly reproached my Husband for his want of Power to console me.
I believe it was equally unhappy for my Lord, as myself, that we were not blessed with Children. The dear and tender Attachments, that bind Parents to their Offspring, serve also as a subsequent and more affecting nuptial Band for uniting those Parents more intimately to each other. It draws about them a new Circle of Interests and Amities; and, by creating a mutual Confidence, forbids the Intrusion of those Jealousies that must at all Times presuppose an Alienation of Regard. This however was not the Case between Lord
Maitland
and me. We never had a Child. Perhaps, in some Constitutions, a Union of Souls as well as Persons may be requisite for such an Effect.
During the two Years succeeding the Death of my dear Mother, I conceived a Disgust against Company and Entertainments. I took a religious Turn. I looked upon this World and all that it contained as quite unworthy the Regard of an immortal Being. The principal Part of my Time was taken up in Books and Offices of Devotion; in which Employment I alternately sunk under the most gloomy Depression of Spirits, and again was elevated above myself into a new World of Joys and inexpressible Openings.
At length I was taken exceeding ill of what the Physicians called a Fever upon the Nerves, which confined me to my Bed above six Weeks. During my Illness, my Husband was the most constant and assiduous of all my Attendants. The affectionate Sadness, the painful Distress, the tender Solicitude, that was visible in all his Looks and Actions, made way into my Soul with an obliging Impression; and, while I reproached myself for my ungrateful Defect of Sensibility toward him, Love, or something tender and very like to Love took Place in my Bosom.
As soon as I was on the Recovery, my Husband disappeared without taking Leave or giving me any Notice; and for three Weeks I knew not what was become of him. At length he returned, pale and greatly emaciated. I had yet lost none of the Tenderness which I conceived for him during my Illness. I took him affectionately by the Hand, which glowed like a Coal of Fire. Ah, I cried, where have you been, what Looks are these, my Lord, what is the meaning of all this? he answered not, but withdrawing his Hand, and scarce deigning to look toward me; I am not well, he faintly said, I must go to my Bed.
While his Servants undressed him, I stood in silent Astonishment, vainly guessing at the Cause of this extraordinary Behaviour; but, as soon as he had lain down, I took a Seat by his Side, and, seizing and pressing one of his Hands between mine, I broke into Tears.
After a sad and mutual Silence, ah Madam, cried my Husband, what am I to understand by these Tears? I am willing to consider them as Proofs of your Humanity, but I cannot consider them as Instances of your Affection. You love me not, Madam; you never did love me. All the Constancy and Complacence of the most ardent Passion, all my Endeavours and Assiduities have not been able to procure me the smallest Interest in your Heart. I blame you not, Madam; alas! we are not the Masters of own Affections. I am sensible that I never deserved your Love. That was a Blessing reserved for a more amiable Object. But then the Tenderness and Truth of my Attachment to you might surely have laid Claim to a Share of your Confidence. Ah, how precious had such a Confidence been to my Heart! it had stood to me in the Place of your Love, and I should not have reproached you for irresistible Propensities. Yes, Madam, I say irresistible, for I know you are virtuous. Perhaps it was not in your Power to refuse another your Love, but then you might have admitted your Husband to a Share of your Friendship.
You have my Friendship, I cried, my tenderest Friendship, my most affectionate Regards. If my Love is not so ardent as you could wish, you however have all the Love of which I am capable, and you possess it entire and undivided.
What is this you tell me, Madam? I would to Heaven you could still deceive me, that I had still continued in Ignorance! but that is past, it is over, Madam, my Eyes are opened to my Wretchedness; and I die in the double Want of your Faith and your Affection. I have seen your Lover, Lady; I saw him four Days ago from an opposite Window. He stood before this House, in Converse with another. I expected every Moment, that taking Advantage of my Absence, he would have gained Admission to you. I held my Sword ready to follow, to pierce his Heart, and sacrifice him to the Claims of my Honour and my Love. But, he suddenly disappeared and disappointed my Vengeance.
Gracious Heaven, I exclaimed, what Madness is this? do you dream, or who is it that has thus cruelly imposed upon you? you shall see the Impostor, Madam, replied my Lord. So saying, he suddenly put his Hand back, and taking your Picture from under the Pillow, he indignantly demanded, do you know the Original of this Portrait, Lady? ah, I screamed, I confess it, I do know him, I did know him indeed; he was the Idol of my Heart, I delighted in him, I doted upon him! you then acknowledge, you avow it, rejoined my Husband, and at length you deign to make me the Confident of a Passion which I suppose, in your Favour, to have been involuntary. Ah, had I been earlier apprised of my Unhappiness, I might not have sunk under the unexpected and sudden Pressure as I do at this Day. But say, who and what is this formidable Rival, who robs me of my Peace, who tears my Life from me?
First tell me, my Lord, said I, how you came by this Picture? I found it in your Cabinet during your Illness, said he, when I searched for your Essences to relieve you from a fainting Fit. I flatter myself that I am not of a jealous Disposition. Curiosity first incited me to hurry it into my Pocket. I afterwards surveyed it more at Leisure, and some starting Doubts arose. I endeavoured to suppress them; I argued with myself that it might be a Family-Picture, the Representative of a Brother or dear Relation deceased. But then some Enemy of my Peace again whispered to my Spirit that, if this had been the Case, you would not be so solicitous to conceal it from me; you would rather have boasted of such an Ornament of your Lineage; you would have been proud to exhibit it before all People. This staggered me I confess; and additional Doubts and Suggestions were impelled upon my Soul. She reserves this, said I to myself, for her own Eye and Inspection; to revise it, to gaze and dwell upon it in Secret; and to please her Sight with the favourite Image that is impressed upon her Heart. At each of these Reflections I felt a Sting in my Bosom; and the more I revolved and debated on these Uncertainties, the greater Strength they gained and drew nearer to Demonstration. Ah, I cried, her real Coldness and feigned Regards are now equally accounted for. She deceives me, she imposes upon me; and I will counterfeit in my Turn till this Mystery is detected. I then attempted and would have constrained myself to look at you with my accustomed Tenderness; but I found it impossible. I therefore withdrew suddenly and without any Notice. If she ever had a Tincture of Friendship for me, thought I, the Apprehension of my Loss will awake in her a Sense thereof. I disguised myself, and, as a Stranger, took Lodgings over against you. I took my Station at the Window. I was on the watch from Morn till Noon, to make a thorough Inquisition into your Conduct during my Absence. I shall discover her Disposition, said I, by the Visitants whom she receives; but, during a Fortnight of Observation, I could not perceive that, of the Numbers who called, any one was admitted. My jealous Passions abated; and I began to reproach myself for having ever conceived them; when, to my utter Confusion, there stood full to my View, in Dress, Aspect, Mien, Attitude, the distinguished Original of the Portrait which I had in my Pocket.
Here, I passionately broke in upon my Husband's Narration. God be praised, I exclaimed; he then lives, he still lives, my most dear and amiable Cousin, though I never wish to behold his Face any more! my only Relation, perhaps now my only Friend, you are still living, and I trust you are happy; and that is enough!
Your Relation, your only Relation, Madam, cried my Lord! is he so near? is he no nearer, no dearer to you than Consanguinity will warrant? proceed my Lord, I said, I will then tell you all, without Disguise or Palliation.
I confess to you, answered my Husband, that the Sight of him struck my Soul with the fullest Conviction of my being betrayed. My jealous Pangs returned with double Poignancy. I was enkindled, I was set on Fire, my Heart was rent several Ways. A violent Fever seized upon me, but my Fury and thirst of Vengeance supported me under it. For four Days longer I held up in the impatient Expectation of once more beholding your Lover, that I might pierce him in a thousand Places, in every seducing Part about him. But Nature at length gave way, I sunk under the Oppression; and I returned, once for all, to behold, to reproach, and to expire before you.
O, my Husband, my Friend, my true Lover, I cried, how I pity, how I feel for you! I excuse your Suspicions however injurious to my Honour, since your Jealousy perhaps is not wholly without Foundation. I did indeed love the Person, for whom that Portrait was drawn, with Tenderness, with Passion. But believe me, when I assure you that I have not set my Eyes, either on the Original or Picture, these twenty Years.
What is this you tell me? exclaimed my Lord. You are not yet, as I take it, thirty Years of Age. Could you love, even to Passion, at so very early a Period?
Here I found myself under the Necessity of discovering to my Husband the little Adventures, Impressions, and Sentiments of my Infancy, wherewith you are already acquainted. When I had finished my short Narrative, he seized my Hand, and pressing it passionatly to his Lips, and then to his burning Bosom, he melted into Tears. O, my
Fanny,
he cried, my most noble, my adorable Creature! what a Combat have you fought, what a Conquest have you gained, of Grace over Nature, of Virtue against Passion! can you excuse me, will you forgive me? may I hope that you will restore me to the blessings of your Friendship? May I flatter myself that you gave me as much as you could of your Affections? that, if you had been able, you would have loved me with a Love like mine?
I will not distress you, my Cousin, by a Description of the affecting Scenes that ensued. My Husband left me vastly rich, but still more forlorn. During the first Years of my Widowhood, I looked upon myself as a friendless and unnecessary Burden upon Earth. Though I thought of you at Times, it was not without a Resentment and a Tincture of Aversion, for your never having deigned to enquire or find out, whether any such Person, as your too affectionate
Fanny Goodall,
was in the Land of the Living. At length my Physicians and my Friends, (as they stiled themselves) prevailed upon me once more, to enter into the Light and Air and Amusements of their World. I consented. I found my Advantage in it. I gradually got rid of the grievous Oppression that lay upon my Spirits. Since all is Vanity, thought I, let us partake of the Dissipation, and make it as pleasing as we can; and accordingly you found me in the Engagements which you honoured with your Inspection Yesterday.
When you entered, I did not know you. The strange Name of
Fenton,
as well as the Alteration which Years had made in you, shut you out almost wholly from my Recollection. I felt myself however agitated I knew not why. Something in your Person and Manner renewed, in my Heart, Impressions kindred to those which were once its sole Concern. I could not look at you, I could not speak to you without Emotion. All Night I lay disturbed, in vain endeavouring to remember when or where I had seen you. At Morning a sudden Light darted in upon my Mind. I got up, and flew to your Picture which, at once, laid all open and detected your Disguise.
You are much altered Cousin. Had I first seen you as you now appear, I think my young Heart would not have been so deeply affected. The Ruin however is still very noble, and endearingly renews in me the Idea of what the Building once was.
Your abstracted Air, and the change of your Name seem to intimate some distressing Situation. But, if fifty thousand Pounds, or that Sum doubled will be of Use to you, I shall for once think that Fortune has been of Advantage to me.
My most dear and generous Cousin, replied Mr.
Fenton,
I shall never pardon myself those Griefs which the Excess of my Affection inadvertently occasioned you. No Brother ever loved a Sister, no Parent a Child, with fonder Passion. The Aversion, which I thought you had suddenly taken to me, was one of the most sensible Afflictions of my Life; and my Ignorance of what laterally became of you, can only be accounted for by an Abstract of my own Story.
Here Mr.
Fenton
called for Chocolate. And, after Breakfast, he gave Lady
Maitland
the following affecting History of his own Life and Adventures.
CHAP. XIII. STORY of the Hon. Mr. CLINTON.
THE WORLD, my lovely Cousin, the World is to Man as his Temper or Complexion. The Mind constitutes its own Prosperity and Adversity; Winter presents no Cloud to a cheerful Spirit, neither can Summer find Sunshine for the Spirit that is in a State of Dejection. In my Youth every Object presented me with Happiness; but alas, the Time came when the Universe appeared as a Vault wherein Joy was entombed, and the Sun himself but as a Lamp that served to show the Gloom and the Horrors around me.
As my Father and Mother died before I was taken from Nurse, I knew none of those parental Tendernesses and Endearments that serve to humanize the Soul and give it the first Impressions of social Attachment; neither were those Sweetnesses in any Degree supplied to me by the Behaviour of an imperious Brother or of a magisterial Guardian. As I was naturally, however, of a benevolent Cast, I sought for those Affections and Amities among Strangers which I had not found in the Bosoms or Faces of Kin.
I pass over the immaterial Parts of my Life at School and College, and hasten to the more important Period of my Apprenticeship.
Your Father bound me to Mr.
Golding,
a very wealthy and eminent Merchant, who lived over against the
Exchange.
He had been some Years a Widower, and his only Child, a Daughter, was then at the Boarding-school.
Mr.
Golding,
with a plain Understanding, was a Man of exceeding Honesty and a susceptible Heart. At first Sight he conceived a partial Affection for me, whereof he gave me very frequent and very tender Proofs; and, as he stood to me in the Place of a Patron and a Father, I felt for him all the Fondness and Attachment of a Child.
In the fourth Year of my Apprenticeship he called me to his Closet, and, taking me kindly by the Hand,
Harry,
says he, I love you, your Interest lies near my Heart, for though you are not the begotten of my Body you are the Child of my Affections  be quiet,
Harry
  let me speak  I have to talk to you of Matters of Consequence.    I went Yesterday to your Uncle
Goodall
to know how Accounts stood between ye  though he is but a cold Kinsman he is a very faithful Guardian  He has just married a very lovely young Woman, and I would have you go and pay your Compliments to them on the Occasion.    Your Uncle has laid out your little Penny to good Advantage, and your 12000
l.
is now nearly doubled  And now
Harry,
as your Father did not behave like a Father toward you, in the Dividend which he made between you and your Brother, I propose in some Measure to supply his Place, and I make you a Present of this Note of 12000
l.
which added to your little Patrimony may enable you  O, Sir! I cried.    Be quiet, Child, I say again, till you find whether or no you shall have Reason to thank me.    I am growing old, my
Harry,
and by a long Course of Industry have earned a kind of Title to some little Rest; I would therefore gladly make a Composition between your Application and my Repose. I shall not be so often in the Counting-House as usual. I propose to take you into immediate Partnership. But as I also propose that you shall be at three fourths of the Trouble, it is but just that I should offer you a proportionable Advantage.    Now as my Capital,
Harry,
is more than five times as much as yours of 36000
l.
I offer to your Acceptance a full Moiety of all the Profits in Recompence of your extraordinary Attention and Application.    Hear me out  I do not think that I shall lose by this Bargain. The Affairs of
Potiphar
prospered under the Hands of Young
Joseph;
and I believe that you, also, are a Favourite of your God.
I could not speak. The good Man perceived my Oppression, and catching me in his Arms, and pressing me to his Bosom, he shed a silent Tear of Satisfaction upon me, and withdrew without saying another Word.
For several Days following Mr.
Golding
was employed in advising his Correspondents that I was now become his Partner and equal in Trade, and I was wearied with Congratulations on my being one of the principal Merchants in
London
before I had attained my twentieth Year.
The Obligations and Advantages which this good Man thus delighted to heap upon me, incited me to double Application and Sagacity, and all the Eyes of
Argus
were opened within me for superintending and guarding the Interests of my Patron.
I have often thought it somewhat romantic that I should win both my Wives by a matter of Adventure, so that their Partiality in my Favour ought perhaps to be ascribed to a Sentiment of Gratitude rather than to any liking which they might take to my Person.
On a Day in Summer I rode to
Barnet
to settle Accounts with Mr.
Fradgil,
a Correspondent of my Master's, who was said to be indisposed at his Country Seat. As I approached the Town, I observed an elderly Gentlewoman walking leisurely toward me, attended by an orderly Train of young Maidens. I observed, at the same Time, two Men in glistering Apparel who hastily followed, and, coming quickly up, put all the Females to a Stand, and caused them to gather in a Group, as for mutual Defence. One of the Men, however, no way daunted by the Opposition of so numerous a Company, rudely caught one of the elder Misses in his Arms, and repeatedly kissing her, thrust his Hand into her Bosom. Mean while the young Lady shrieked and cried aloud for Help, when, riding suddenly up, I struck the Ruffian to the Ground, with the Heavy End of my Whip. His Companion hereupon drew his Sword and turned upon me, but, pushing my Horse at him, I cast him also to the Earth, then alighting, I broke their Swords, and, leaving my Gallants in a Plight not suddenly to be dreaded, I led my Horse by the Bridle till I saw my Fair Wards all safe to their Dwelling.
Some Months after this Incident, Mr.
Golding
called me aside.
Harry,
says he, my Daughter is now drawing to Woman's Estate, and should learn something more substantial than Needle-work, and Dancing, and Harpsichords, and frenchified Phrases. I therefore propose to take her Home where, by the Help of our Cook and Housekeeper, she may be taught how to make a
Sunday
's Pudding, and to superintend a Family.
I regularly go to see her, once in every Month, accompanied by some Male or Female Acquaintance, but never called you to be of the Party, as we could not so conveniently be both from Home.
My Child, though a plain Girl, is very dutiful and good-natured. Her Fortune, as you are sensible, will entitle her to the first Lord of the Land; yet, I know not how it is, I would rather that my Girl should be happy than great. I do not wish to have her a fine titled Dame. I would rather, I say, see her married to some honest and tender-hearted Man, whose Love might induce him to domesticate with her, and to live peaceably and pleasingly within his Family-circle, than to see her mated with a Prince of the Blood.
Now,
Harry,
as this Affair, of all Affairs, sits nearest at my Heart, it is greatly in your Power to oblige me beyond Expression. On my Daughter's coming home, I conclude we shall be beset by a Number of Courtiers; such an
Argo,
when freighted with such a Fleece, will unquestionably be held in Chace by many a Pirate. Wherefore, my Son, I would have you keep a sharp and inquisitive Eye about you, and to take good Note, of the Manners and Dispositions of such Suitors as my Daughter shall appear to regard. As also to enquire minutely into their Circumstances and Characters. Your Vigilance and Penetration may save us from Ruin. Should my Child be made Unhappy, your Friend must be most miserable. But I depend, my dear
Harry,
that while I live you will prove a kind Brother to her; and that you will prove a Father to her in case of my Mortality. Here the good Man, no longer able to restrain his Passion, put his Handkerchief to his Eyes and quitted the Chamber.
Within a few Days Mr.
Golding
set out, accompanied by a Number of his City-Friends, in order to conduct his Daughter Home. On their Arrival, I was deeply engaged in the Counting-house, and it was near the Time for Supper before I could attend. As I entered, Mr.
Golding
presented me to his Daughter, saying, this, my Dear, is Mr.
Clinton,
my Partner, my Friend, my Son, and your Brother. Hereupon Miss
Golding
coloured, and drawing back as I approached to salute her, if I am not mistaken, Sir, says she, he is something more to us than all you have mentioned, it would ill become me to forget that he is the Deliverer of your Daughter.    Your Deliverer, my dear
Matty!
how, where, when ?    Why pray, Papa, did Mr.
Clinton
never tell you of his Adventure at
Barnet?
  No indeed, my Dear.    It is not every one who would be silent, Papa, where so much was to be said to their own Honour. I remember that your Knights in Romance, when too modest to boast of their own Achievements, used to permit some Friend or Squire to deliver down to Posterity the History of their Adventures, and I take the Liberty to be Squire to Mr.
Clinton
on the like Occasion.
Here Miss
Golding
began to give a Narrative of the Matter already recited, but in Terms of high Phrase and aggravated Encomium. While all abashed and confused, I withdrew, saying, that I did not remember of any Knights who staid to hear their own Story.
In Truth I was much surprised to hear Miss
Golding
mention the Adventure of
Barnet,
for I did not recollect that I had ever seen her, and had taken much more Note of two or three other Misses than I had of her.
Being resummoned to Supper, Mr.
Golding
met me as I entered and clasping me in his Arms, O my
Harry,
he cried, how wonderfully gracious has God been to me in sending my best Friend to the Rescue of my only Child, in sending at so critical and very fearful a Conjuncture, perhaps the only Person who had either Gallantry or Humanity enough to preserve her. Indeed Sir, I replied, you owe me nothing; I did not even know that the Lady was your Daughter, and I could not pride myself, in any Degree, on an Action which I thought incumbent on every Man to perform.
During Supper Miss
Golding
was very cheerful and agreeable. Her Face indeed could not be numbered among the Beauties, but her Person was Grace and Majesty though in Miniature, her Conversation was pleasing, and when she sung or touched her Instruments, for she was Mistress of several, her Mien and Motions were Music, each Note seemed a Sentiment, and we felt her Fingers playing on the Chordage of our Heart.
For the first three Months after Miss
Golding
's Arrival, all was crowding and Gaiety, Assembly and Festival at our House. She was as a Magnet that drew and grouped all the Peerage and Gentry of
England
together. But as Business happened to be very throng at that Season, I was not at Liberty to partake of their Amusements, and I resigned to Mr.
Golding
the Commission which he had given me respecting the Parties who declared themselves Suitors.
As those Suitors, in a daily and numerous Succession, applied to Mr.
Golding
for his Consent, his general Answer was that his Good-liking was inseparable from that of his only Child, that he would, if they pleased, consult her on the Occasion, and faithfully report to them her Approbation or Dissent. In the like conclusive Manner, when Mr.
Golding
repeatedly questioned his Daughter, she would take his Hand between her's and kissing it, say, O no, my dear Papa, this is not the Man.
One Day, as I sat alone in the Counting-Room, Miss
Golding
entered and presented me with an Order from her Father for Â£250. And pray Madam, said I, why this Ceremony, this Matter of Form? sure Miss
Golding
may, at any Time, command twenty Times this Sum without any Order save her own Intimation.    Indeed! are you serious Mr.
Clinton?
I am very proud I assure you to have so much Credit with you  But, Mr.
Harry,
how comes it to pass that we have so little of your Company ?    Your Father's Business, Madam, deprives me of the Pleasure I should otherwise have in attending you.    Again, Sir, I am quite proud that it is your Attention to my Father, alone, which prevents your having any Attention for his Daughter  so saying, she vanished.
Immediately I was struck with a Glimpse of some uncommon Meaning in the Words and Behaviour of Miss
Golding,
but as I never had looked toward the Way of her Affections, I passed it lightly over as some Matter of Whim or Caprice in the Sex.
Among the brilliant Concourse of Suitors that frequented our House there was one Mr.
Spelling,
a young Gentleman highly accomplished in his Person and Manners, and of a most amiable Countenance and Disposition. His Father, like Miss
Golding
's, had been a Merchant, and like him too had amassed an excessive Fortune. As he was modest, as I may say, to a Degree of Shamefacedness, he did not declare himself a Lover, till nearly the whole Multitude of Competitors had been discarded. Then, with a blushing Diffidence, he avowed his Passion to Mr.
Golding,
and earnestly besought his Consent and Intercession in his Favour. You have not only my Consent, replied the good old Man, you have also my best Wishes, and shall have my best Endeavours for your Success: However I must warn you at the same Time, Mr.
Spelling,
that I will not do any Violence to the Inclinations of my Child, although there are not two in the World whom I would prefer to you.
I was writing in my Closet when Mr.
Golding
came in, with an anxious Importance in his Countenance, and told me what passed between him and Mr.
Spelling,
and asked if I did not approve the Match. I do not know Sir, said I, that Man in
England
who is so deserving of your Daughter as Mr.
Spelling.
Then, my dear
Harry,
I have a Commission to give you,
Matilda
has a great Respect for your judgement, I beseech you to make Use of your Influence with her, and to exert all your Oratory in Behalf of this young Man.    But, Sir, will not Miss
Matilda
look on this as a Matter of high Presumption in one who has no Manner of Right to advise.    No Matter, you may tell her that you did it by my Desire and that we are both of a Mind with Regard to this Business.    Well Sir, said I, since you are bent upon it, I will obey you, but it is the first Time that ever I obeyed you with Reluctance.
Soon after Mr.
Golding
left me his Daughter entered, with a Countenance visibly inquiet and confused. My Papa, Sir, said she, informs me that you have a Business of Consequence to impart to me.    I hope, Madam, pray be seated a Moment.    Indeed, my dear Miss
Golding,
this Office was not of my choosing, and I hope, I say, you will be so good as to pardon my Presumption, in Consideration of my acting by your Father's Command.    You alarm me, Mr.
Clinton,
pray proceed.    Mr.
Spelling,
Madam, at length has had the Assurance to declare his Passion for you. Your Father highly approves of Mr.
Spelling
for a Son-in-law; and indeed, Miss, might I dare to speak my judgement, I know not where you could choose to better Advantage.    If that is the Case, Mr.
Harry,
I wish that I also could be of the same Opinion  And are you not, Madam? what Objection can you form, what Exception can you have to my Friend
Spelling?
  A very simple one, Sir, and no better than this, that he is not the Man who can make me happy.    I am sorry for it, my dear Miss
Golding,
I am truly sorry for it; were I to pick from Mankind, were I to choose throughout the World, if any One can deserve you, it is surely this same
Spelling
  And yet, Mr.
Harry,
I remember to have seen the Man who, in every Grace and Merit, is infinitely preferable to your Favourite
Spelling.
  Where, when, my dear Miss ?    When I am brought to the Torture, I may possibly be under the necessity of confessing.    Pardon, pardon, sweet Madam! I meant no Offence; and yet I wish to Heaven I knew --But that you never shall know, Mr.
Harry.
--Pray then, Madam, if I may adventure on one Question more, has the Party so highly favoured any Knowledge of his own Happiness? --I hope not, Mr.
Harry,
but of what Advantage could his Knowledge prove to me I beseech you? can you suppose that such a Person as I have described could deign to look with Favour on such a one as I am? --I do not believe, Madam, that the Man is in
England
who would not think himself highly honoured, highly blessed by your Hand. But then are you assured, Miss, that this Man is worthy of it ?    Ah, there lies my Misfortune! he is too worthy, too noble, too accomplish'd, too lovely, too much every thing for my Wishes to leave any thing to my Hopes. And now, Mr.
Harry,
that I have entrusted you with my Secret, I hope you will not betray my Confidence and reveal it to my Papa. I rather trust and request that you will use some other Colour for reconciling him to my Refusal of Mr.
Spelling.
And to make you some Amends for the Mortification I have given you, by rejecting your Advocation in Behalf of your Friend, I here engage never to marry without your Approbation, though I do not promise, Sir, that you shall dictate to my Choice. There is one Thing further, Mr.
Clinton,
in which you may oblige me, it is to prevail on my Father to dismiss these Assemblies and Revels that pester our House; indeed, they never were to my Taste, though, by their Novelty, at first they might have helped to amuse a little Matter of Melancholy that hung upon my Mind, but now they are grown quite insufferable to me. --Here her Eye began to fill, and, heaving a gentle Sigh, she curtsied and withdrew.
Immediately my Heart was softened and affected, I saw the Child of my Friend and Patron, the one in whom his Hopes and Fortunes and very Life were wrapt up, I saw that she was unhappy, that she was very unhappy, at a Time that she had forbidden me to attempt her Relief, though I would gladly have parted with Half my Fortune to have been enabled to give the Object of her Wishes to her Arms.
In the mean while, my dearest Madam, it was the farthest of all Things from entring into my Imagination, that I was the very Person who sat so near her Heart. I daily saw the loveliest Youths and titled Chiefs of the Land attendant on her Words and Smiles, and humbly suing for her Favour. I saw also that her immense Fortune and rare Attractions justly entitled her to their Homage, and I was neither vain enough nor base enough to attempt a Competition.
As in myself I was wholly devoid of Passion, I had neither Eyes nor Apprehension for the Discernment of hers. Though I had often seen, I seldom had any Kind of Converse with her, and where the Head is engaged and in a Manner absorbed by Business, there is neither Leisure nor Room for Love to enter the Heart. On the other Hand, a Person affected can instantly penetrate the Bosom of the Party beloved, and there discern a vacant and insensible Heart as legibly as a Priest of
Isis
could decypher Hieroglyphics.
One Day, as I happened to pass near her Antichamber, I heard the warble, as I thought, of distant and aetherial Music. I approached tow'rd the Sound, the Door was on the jar, and, gently opening it, I entered and stood behind her unperceived. She sat and sang to her Lute. The Words were
Shakespeare
's, but sweetly set by herself. They expressed that Passage in his Play of Twelfth Night, where it is said of
Viola, She never told her Love, but let Concealment, like a Worm i'th' Bud, feed on her damask Cheek, &c.
Ah, how affectingly did her Instrument answer to her Voice, while she gently tuned her Sighs to the soft and melancholy Cadences. My Breast was so swelled by a Mixture of Anguish and Compassion that I could no longer wholly suppress a rising Groan. Hereat she started and turned, and rising suddenly, her Eyes shot Fire, and her Face glowed with Indignation and Resentment. But, observing the Tears that still trickled down my Cheeks, her Countenance was as suddenly changed into Kindness, and she cast upon me a Look of inexpressible Complacence.
Ah, Mr.
Harry,
says she, I see, I see that you have a gentle and a kindred Kind of Heart, and that, if ever you happen to love, you will love with great Tenderness. --Have you ever loved, Mr.
Harry?
--Indeed, Madam, I cannot say, my Commerce has been very little among the Ladies. If I met Love on my Way, or even found it in my Heart, perhaps I should not rightly know what to make of it. But, my
Matilda,
my charming Sister, (your Father has honoured me with the Privilege of calling you by that dear that tender Name) why will you not entrust your best your truest Friend with the Secret of your Disquiet? whoever the Object of your Esteem may be, I here solemnly engage, at the Risk of my Life and the Loss of my Fortune, to bring him voluntarily to pay his Vows at your Feet. O, my Sister, I would to Heaven that he had now been present, as I have been present, to have his Soul melted and minted as mine has been; his Heart must have been harder than the Stones of
Thebes,
if you did not attract it and move it, at pleasure, by the Touch of those Fingers and the Bewitchment of those Accents. --Ah, you Flatterer, she cried, with a Voice tuned to Harmony, and a Face formed of Smiles, you almost tempt me to tell you what, for the World, I would not wish that any one in the World should know. But, I must snatch myself from the Danger. --So saying, and casting at me a vanishing Glance, she was out of sight in a twinkling.
As our Suitors had now been dismissed and our Assemblies discontinued, Miss
Golding
seemed quite pleased with our Family-abridgment; it gave us frequent Occasions of being together; I endeavoured, by a Variety of tender Offices and little Amusements, to dispell or divert the Melancholy under which I thought she laboured; I was greatly surprised at my own Success on this Occasion; her Cheerfulness returned; she discovered new and striking Graces in her Manners and Conversation, and in a little Time did not appear to want any Consolation.
One Day, being on the
Exchange,
I was accosted by a
Jew,
who told me that he wanted a Sum of Money and would either sell or pawn to me a Jewel of great Price. It was a Solitaire composed of Oriental Pearls, with a Diamond of the first Water and Magnitude in the Centre: After some chaffering, we agreed for three thousand Pieces, and I put it into my Pocketbook. As my Business detained me on the
Exchange
till it was late, I dined with two or three Acquaintance at the Chop-House and did not return till the Evening was advanced.
On my entering, I was told that Mr.
Golding
was abroad, and that Miss
Matilda
had just ordered Coffee for some Ladies in her Dressing-room. Immediately I ran up and opened the Door without Ceremony, but was instantly struck with the Look which she turned tow'rd me, a Look that at once intimated Dejection and Disgust. During Coffee, I endeavoured to behave with my usual Unconcern, but found it impossible to avoid sharing in that Constraint under which Miss
Matilda
most evidently laboured; in short, a gloomy Stiffness spread through the whole Conversation, and I believe no two Persons in Company were rightly satisfied with each other.
As soon as the Cups were removed, the fair Visitants got up; and, as Miss
Golding
pressed them to stay, in a Manner that rather denoted her Desire of their Absence; they feigned a further Engagement, and very formally took their Leaves.
When she had seen them to the Door, and that I had handed them into their Carriages, she turned without speaking to me and withdrew toward her own Apartment. I followed, and, as she was about to enter, my
Matilda,
my Sister, said I, with a Voice of cordial Tenderness, do your
Harry
the Favour to accept this Trifle, as an Instance of my Regard for the Daughter of my Friend, for the dearest Object, upon Earth, of my Esteem and Affection. So saying I presented her with my recent Purchace; she did not, however, even deign to look at it; but, surveying me from Head to Foot with an Eye of strange Passions, she took it and dashed it against the Floor, and, rushing into her Chamber, she shut to the Door upon me, without speaking a Word.
I stood in an inconceivable Astonishment and Concern. In vain I searched and researched my Memory for the Recollection of some Instance wherein I might have offended her; but, not presuming to obtrude upon her in order to question or expostulate with her, I retreated to my Apartment under the deepest Dejection of Spirits.
Mr.
Golding
did not return till it was late in the Evening. He immediately sent for me.
Harry,
says he, what is the Matter, has any Thing happened amiss? I never saw you look so discomposed. Indeed, Sir, I am not as well as I could wish. Bless me, we had better send for a Doctor. No, Sir, I am in Hopes it will soon be over.    Where is
Matilda?
  In her Chamber, Sir, I believe.    He then called Mrs.
Susan,
and bid her tell
Matilda
that he desired to speak with her, but she answered that her Mistress was gone to Bed indisposed, and requested that she might not be disturbed.
Supper being served up, we sat down in Silence, and as neither of us offered to taste a Bit, I rose, wished Mr.
Golding
a good Night, and retired to my Chamber.
After a sleepless Night, my Servant entered in a visible Alarm, and told me that Miss
Golding
was extremely ill, and that almost all the Physicians in
London
had been sent for.
Very unhappy were many succeeding Days. I saw my Friend, my Father, the Man I loved above the World, I saw him in a Depth of Distress that bordered on Distraction, and I found my Heart wrung with inexpressible Anguish.
Though I was constant in my Enquiries after Miss
Golding,
yet I purposely avoided appearing in her Presence, lest the Sight of one so obnoxious should add to her Distemper. At length the good old Man came to me, wringing his Hands, will you not go
Harry,
says he, will you not go and see
Matilda
before she dies? The Doctors tell me they have tried all the Powers of Medicine, but that they do not yet know what to make of her Sickness.
My dear Sir, said I, it is then no longer time to conceal from you what I know or conjecture concerning this Matter. Miss
Matilda,
herself, entrusted me with the Secret, but under the strictest Injunctions of Silence; the Extremity of her Case, however, ought to dispense with all such Engagements. Your Daughter loves, Sir, she loves with Passion, but who the Object of her Affections is I cannot imagine. Let it be your Part to discover what she so industriously hides from the World, she will refuse nothing to the Authority or rather to the Tenderness of such a Parent.
Here Mr.
Golding
left me, but returned in about an Hour. His whole Frame seemed to labour with something extraordinary. You were right,
Harry,
he cried, you were right in your Conjectures; my Prayers and my Tears have at length prevailed, with difficulty I have wrung the Secret from her. O, my Son! it is greatly in your Power to befriend us. Would you not do something for the Relief of a Family who dote upon you as we do? would you not do something for your old Friend who loves you as fondly as ever Father loved a Child? Something for you, Sir, said I, yes, every thing, all things that are possible to be done. But, pray Sir, do I know the Party? You do,
Harry,
you do, he cried, for, as the Prophet said unto
David,
thou art the Man.
Me, Sir! I exclaimed, impossible! she cannot bear my Sight, she hates me, she detests the Ground I go upon. Not so, said he, not so, she loves the very Dust upon which you tread. Something surely is due in Mitigation of the Calamities which you have occasioned. We lie at your Mercy, Mr.
Clinton,
my precious Daughter and myself, it is your's to bid us live or die at your Pleasure, to crush us into nothing, or to restore us to Existence, to Health, to Enjoyment. Will it hurt you, my Son, to do us these great Benefits? is it a Matter grievous to you to give Happiness to those, whose Excess of Love for you is their only Misfortune? A princely Fortune attends you. We and all we have are yours, Mr.
Clinton.
We are desirous of depending on your Bounty alone. Let the Extremeness of my Daughter's Affection for you excite something more kindly than Hatred in your Breast. If not for her Sake, yet for mine, my beloved
Harry,
let me beseech you to constrain yourself before her, to affect some little Tenderness, some Appearance of Regard, that may revive her, awhile at least, from the deplorable State under which she languishes.
While he spoke I was agitated by unutterable Emotions, and he might have proceeded much further, before I should have had the Power to reply. At length I cast myself on my Knee, and catching his Hand to my Bosom, Ah, my Friend, my Father, my dear Father, I cried, am I then no better than a Barbarian in your Sight? To me would you impute such Sentiments of Cruelty and Ingratitude? Take my Hand, Sir, take my Heart, dispose of them as you please. All that I have, all that I am is yours and your Daughter's, without any kind of Reserve for any other Person breathing.
The good Man caught me in his Arms, and pressed me to his Breast in a long and speechless Ecstasy; then, taking me by the Hand, he led me in Silence to his Daughter's Apartment.
As we entered she turned her Eyes toward the Door, and her pale and languid Countenance was straight suffused with a short lived Red. I was so affected by the Condition in which I beheld her, that I scarcely was able to reach her Bedside, where kneeling down I gently took one of her Hands, and pressing it between mine, I bathed it in a silent Shower of Tears.
Ah, my Papa, she faintly cried, I fear you have betrayed me, Mr.
Harry
is certainly informed of my Weakness. I am informed, said I, my lovely, my all-beloved Sister, I am informed that I am permitted to hope for a Happiness that is infinitely above my Merit, but it shall be the delightful Business of my Life to deserve it.
My Dear, said Mr.
Golding,
I perceive you are something flustered, your Constitution is too weak for such Emotions as these. For the present your Brother
Harry
must leave you. To-morrow, I trust, you will be better able to support our Company.
Hereupon I took her Hand, and, impressing upon it a tender and warm Kiss, I just ventured to look up, and saw her fine Eyes suffused with a glittering Tear, and her Countenance bent upon me with a Look of indescribable Sweetness and Delight; but Mr.
Golding,
to prevent the Effects of too tender a Scene, instantly took me by the Arm and led me away.
As he perceived that my Spirits had been much disturbed, he ordered a Bottle to his own Chamber, and told me that he requested some further Converse with me. As soon as we had taken our Seats, he looked earnestly upon me, then seized me by the Hand, and looked at me again. But suddenly getting up, he turned and stepped to the Window, and, breaking into Tears, he there wept and sobbed for good Part of an Hour.
As soon as he was somewhat composed, he resumed his Seat. Mr.
Clinton,
says he, are you really sincere in your Professions with Respect to my Daughter? Shall I be rid of my Doubts at once? May I venture to ask you a Question, on which my own Life as well as that of my Child may depend? Should it please the Almighty to raise her from her present Bed of Sickness, is it actually your Intention to make her your Wife?
Here, I demanded with some Warmth, is that a Question, Sir, at this time? What Reason have I given you to suspect my Honour or my Truth ?    I do not suspect you, my
Harry,
I do not suspect you; I know you would not deceive me, but you may have deceived yourself. Your Nature is tender and full of Pity; and, in the deplorable Estate in which my Girl lies, your great Compassion may have easily been mistaken by you for Love. Your Friendship for me also may have helped to impose upon you, and you may have construed your Regard and Attachment to the Father into a Sentiment of Tenderness and Affection for the Child. But O, my
Harry,
should any other Woman be preferable in your Eyes; or should it not be in my Girl's Power to win and wear your Affections, I shall then have been instrumental in making you wretched, and my Heart may as well be broken the one way as the other.    No, my Father, no. I have no foreign
Dalilahs,
no secret Amours, no Pleasures that shun the Light. My Heart is a virgin Heart, and my
Matilda
possesses it without a Rival.
From the Time that I was sensible of my Father's Partiality, a little Matter of Ambition, whether laudable or otherwise, incited me to attempt a Distinction that would raise me toward a Level with an only Brother who looked down with Neglect and Contempt upon me. Thence I became indefatigable in my Studies at School and College, as also in my Application under you, Sir, during the first Years of my Apprenticeship, and this left me no Manner of Leisure for female Attachments. Indeed I dreaded the Appearance of any Advances from the Sex, and turned from them as I would from so many Gins or Pit-falls purposely dug for my Destruction. My Conversation, Sir, has been very little among the Fair, and, excepting my natural Propensity to the Sex, I never, till very lately, conceived a Liking for any Woman. In Truth, my dear Father, that Lady is not alive whom my judgement or Inclinations would prefer to your
Matilda.
You need not fear my being wretched, I think myself most happy in her Affections.
Then, said he, I pronounce her the happiest of Women. And now, my
Harry,
I will tell you a Secret. From the first time that I beheld you, I wished you for my Daughter, I wish'd that she might have Charms to attract and fix your Heart; but, as I feared, and was persuaded that this was not the Case, I forbore to indulge myself in such flattering Expectations. You know I never took you with me to see her at the Boarding-School, the true Reason was that I dreaded exposing her young and inexperienced Heart to such a Temptation, lest she should conceive and languish under a hopeless Passion.
On her Return to Town, my Apprehensions, on your Score, were much abated, as I imagined that the great Number of her gay and glistering Suitors would divide or at least divert her Attention from you; and I purposely laid all the Business of our House on your Shoulders, that she might have as little of your Company as possible.
I further had the Precaution to warn my Child against the Danger of any Affection for you.
Matty,
said I, one Day, among all this Assembly of fair and fortunate Youths you are free and welcome to choose your Companion for Life, there is only One who stands excepted, One only whom you must not look upon with any Eye of Expectation. Who is that, Papa? My young Brother and Partner in Trade, said I. He looks much higher,
Matty,
than to the Daughter of a Merchant. His Prospects are immense. He is only Brother and Heir to the Earl of
Moreland
who is now on his Travels, a dissolute young Man, whose Vices in all likelihood will quickly carry him off, and, in such a Case, our
Harry Clinton
would be considered as the first Person in the Land.
Ah! Sir, I cried, I may bless your Prohibition with regard to me, it was certainly the happy, the only Cause of my
Matilda
's Partiality in my Favour. The good Man smiled and proceeded. Notwithstanding what I said to
Matty,
I had not given up all Thoughts of you myself. While she talked or sung in your Presence, I often turned my Eye upon you, and thought, at times, that I perceived a growing Tenderness in your Behaviour, which, further Acquaintance, I trusted, might ripen into Love. But when, in order to try you, I proposed your Advocation in Behalf of
Spelling,
and that you appeared to undertake it with Readiness and Pleasure, I at once dropped all my fond and flattering Hopes concerning you, and I heartily wished that my Child had accepted that modest and worthy young Man. Blessed, however, be the favouring Hand of that Providence who, so unexpectedly, hath conducted Matters to the Issue of this Hour, and fulfilled the capital Wish of my Life. But, I will no longer delay carrying to my dear Child the glad Tidings of your Affection; it will prove the best of Balms to her wounded Mind, and will close her Eyes, for this Night, in Rest and Peace of Heart.
I was scarce dressed the next Morning, when
Matilda
's favourite Maid entered my Chamber and bid me good Morrow. Mrs.
Susan,
said I, your pleasant Countenance bids me presume that Miss
Golding
is better. --O, vastly better, vastly better, Sir, I assure you; she slept sweetly all the Night, and did not want for happy Dreams either, I warrant.    Here is something for your good News  No Sir, no, I never take Money from Gentlemen; my Mistress's Generosity does not leave me to the Temptation. I love my Mistress, Sir, and I think we ought all rather to join and fee you, Mr.
Harry,
as well for Yesterday's Visit, as for another which I hope you will pay her to Day. A Fiddle for these old Doctors, one pretty young Doctor is better worth than a Score of them.    
Susan,
as it should seem, had been an Observer, and did not want for Penetration in such Matters.    Mr.
Harry,
she continued, I'd give my last Quarter's Wages to know what Charm it is that you carry about you, to make all the pretty Ladies so fond of you.    In Truth, Mrs.
Susan,
I am equally a Stranger to the Charm and to the Fondness that you talk of. --Don't tell me, Sir, don't tell me. The very Day of that Night on which my Mistress fell sick, here was a Lady in her Chariot to enquire for you, one of the loveliest young Creatures I ever set my Eyes on. I know she asked very particularly and very affectionately for you; for though it was my Mistress to whom she spoke, I stood within hearing.    It must, I cried, have been some Mistake or some Imposture, for I assure you, Mrs.
Susan,
that I know of no such Person. But pray be so good as to bear my Compliments to your young Lady, and tell her that I wait her Permission to attend her.
I forgot to tell you, Madam, that, agreeable to the Advice which Mr.
Golding
had given me, I went to felicitate my Uncle
Goodall
on his Marriage with your Mother. He had already been informed of my recent Admission into Partnership, and thereupon received me with very unusual Marks of Esteem and Affection.
Your Mother, at that Time, was exceeding lovely in her Person and Manners, at every Season of Leisure I frequented their House, and she conceived a very tender and warm Friendship for me, but, during Miss
Golding
's Illness, I had not been to visit them.
Susan
was but just gone, when Mr.
Golding
came and told me that he believed his
Matty
would be pleased to see me. I instantly obeyed the Summons. As I entered I observed that she sat up in her Bed, a Morning Gown was wrapped about her, and
Susan
with the Help of Pillows supported her behind. On my appearing her Spirits again took the Alarm. She scarce ventured a Glance toward me. I was greatly pained by the Abashment under which I saw she laboured, and I hastened to relieve myself as well as her from the Distress.
I sat down by the Bed-side, and gently taking one of her Hands, without looking in her Face, my dear Miss
Golding,
said I, I hope you will not be jealous of your Papa's Affection for me. He has, indeed, been too partial, too generous toward me, and has approved himself more than a Father to me. He is not satisfied with allowing me to call you by the tender Name of Sister, he further gives me Leave to hope that I may be united to you by the nearest and dearest of all Ties. Nothing but your Consent is wanting, my Sister, to make me the happiest of Mankind. You are silent, my
Matilda,
may I venture to call you mine? Blessed be your Silence, my Angel, I will dare then to interpret it in my own Favour ?    Indeed I should long since have made the present Declaration, I should long since have avowed my Inclinations, my Affection, my Passion for you; but I did not presume to listen to my own Heart on the Occasion, I did not suffer it to tell me how much you were beloved. Amidst so many Suitors of the first Rank and Merit, who were justly called together by your numberless Attractions, I deemed it a Flight by much too high for me to aspire at a Competition for the Happiness of your Hand.
Here, venturing to look up, I perceived that she had put her Handkerchief to her Eyes. Ah! Mr.
Clinton,
she cried with a trembling Voice, you are very delicate, you are sweetly delicate indeed; but ought I to take the Advantage of this Delicacy? I see that you would save me from the Confusion of an Avowal, you would save me from the mortifying Sensibility of my own Weakness. But, Sir, you ought not to esteem that a Weakness in me, which I account my chiefest Merit and which is my chiefest Pride. I am proud of my Gratitude, I am proud of my Discernment. From the Moment that you preserved me, against Arms and against Odds, at the great Peril of your own Life, in you, and you alone, I saw every thing that was amiable, every thing that was excellent. But then I dreaded lest all Women should behold you with my Eyes; and, above all, I doubly dreaded and was fearfully assured that you never would have any Eyes or Attention for me. You have at length seen, or are rather informed concerning my Malady. You pity me, you wish to relieve me, and you would love me if you could. It is enough, Mr.
Harry,
even this perhaps is quite as much of Happiness as I can bear.
Here, again, I began to profess and to protest the Sincerity and Ardour of my Affections; but she cut me short and said, I know your Sincerity, Sir, you are persuaded that you love me, because as yet you know not what Love is. True Love, Mr.
Harry,
by its own Light, sees into and throughout the Bosom of the Party beloved: I am very sensible of the Tenderness of your Friendship for me, and that Sensibility constitutes the Whole of my Happiness. I trust also that it is all the Happiness I shall ever desire. To see you, to hear you, to have you with me, to gaze upon you while you are looking another Way, to be permitted to attend, to serve you, to conduce to your Satisfactions, it is a Lot that will lift me above that of Mortality, that will cause me to account myself the first among Women.
Ah, I cried, can I say nothing, can I do nothing to convince you how dear, how exceedingly dear you are to me? I certainly loved you, long before I knew what it was to be a Lover. I now feel the united Force of those imperceptible Degrees by which the pleasing Intruder daily stole and grew upon me. Believe me, my
Matilda,
when I presumed to present you with this as a Token of my Affection, I held it for a Trifle altogether unworthy of you; accept it, however, I beseech you, for the Sake of the Giver!
And, is this the Gem, says she, which I cast from me with such Disdain ?    Forgive me, my Brother, it is just so that the World casts from them the Pearl of much mightier Price. I would to Heaven, that I could reject all the Pomps, Pleasures and Vanities of this transitory World with the same Aversion that I spurned from me this estimable Jewel; but there is very little Hope of that, Mr.
Harry,
while you yourself may be partly numbered among transitory Things.
Here I was quite overcome by the Affection of the dear Girl, and, urged on by a sudden Transport, I caught her to my Bosom with a Force that was something too much for her Weakness. On Recollection, I attempted to apologize for my Indiscretion, but she sweetly cried, Ah! Mr.
Harry,
never repent of such Faults, may I often, may I daily tempt you to be guilty of them. But tell me, and tell me truly, Mr.
Clinton;
these Gems, when you first purchased them, were they actually intended for me? were they not rather intended for your
Fanny,
for your own
Fanny,
Mr.
Clinton?
What can you mean? I exclaimed, I know of no
Fanny
in the Universe, with whom I have any Acquaintance. That is strange! she replied, very extraordinary, indeed! but, lest you should think me of a jealous or whimsical Temper, I will relate the Affair to you precisely, as it happened.
On the Day, in which I took to my Bed, I was looking out at the Parlout Window, when a Chariot and six Horses whirled up to our Door. I observed a single Lady in it, whom I supposed of my Acquaintance, and instantly sent
Susan
to request her to walk in. On her entering, I was greatly struck by the Beauty of her Figure, and eyed her very inquisitively from Head to Foot. Having curtesied gracefully to me, can you tell me, Miss, says she, is Mr.
Clinton
at Home? No, indeed, Madam, said I; but if you will be pleased to entrust me with your Commands  It is only, Miss, that I request to see him as soon as possible --And, pray Madam, where shall he attend you  O, he will know that instantly, when you tell him it was
Fanny Goodall,
his own
Fanny Goodall
who was here to wait upon him.    Good Heaven, I cried out, my Aunt, my Aunt
Goodall,
my very Aunt I assure you !    What do you say, what do you tell me, your Aunt, Sir, can it be? Ah, she is too young, and too lovely to be an Aunt, Mr.
Harry.
  The very same, indeed, Madam, there is no other
Fanny Goodall.
I admit, as you say, that she is young and exceeding lovely, but still she is a Wife, and likely soon, as I think, to be a Mother. Alas, says my
Matilda,
what a doleful Jest is this! a cruel Aunt she has been to me I am sure, what Days of Sighs and Nights of Tears she has cost me! Ah, that heart-breaking Term,
his own, his own Fanny;
I think I shall never be able to forgive her that Expression!
As Mr.
Golding
just then entered, we dropped the Subject we were upon. Why,
Matty,
says he, you are quite another Creature; I think I never saw you wear so happy a Face. I know you are come to chide me, says she, for keeping your Partner from Business; but pay me down the Portion you intended for me, Papa, and I will reimburse you the Damage of every Hour of his Absence. Yes, my Love, cries the tender Father, if Wealth might serve, for Wages, to a Heart like that of my
Harry,
he shall be very amply payed for every Act and Instance of his Affection and Attention to you. Every Hour of my Life, I cried, is already her Due; she has nothing to pay to One who is her Debtor beyond Account.
During several following Days, Miss
Golding
recovered with amazing Rapidity. In less than than five Weeks she looked plumper and fairer than ever. Peace smiled in her Countenance. Joy laughed in her Eyes. Her whole Frame appeared as actuated by some internal Music. And thus, all lovely and beloved, she was given up to my Arms, in the Presence of my Uncle and Aunt and of a few City Friends.
As I wish that none of your Faults should pass by me unnoticed, so I am willing to allow you all your just Praises. Your Story of your old Friend is, hitherto, very simple, natural, and domestic; and to a Mind, yet undebauched, exceedingly interesting and affecting; for it opens and investigates a Number of little Passages and Mazes in the Heart, which are quite closed, or imperceptible to Persons of hard Nerves and callous Conceptions. I am free, however, to tell you that I felt myself offended by the Compliments which Mr.
Clinton
pays to himself through the Mouth of your
Matilda.
It is, indeed, a very rare Matter for People to speak of themselves with due Decency and Delicacy. I wish you could have procured some other Conduit for conveying to us the History of your Knight. Caesar, I think, is the only Person who, with an easy though modest Confidence, has successfully adventured on a Detail of his own Exploits.
I have not a Word to say in Mr.
Clinton
's Defence, perhaps he may offer something for himself on the Occasion.
CHAP. XIV.
HERE the Countess, for the first Time, broke in upon her Cousin's Narration. Happy
Matilda,
she cried, how distinguish'd was thy Destiny! were it but for a Year, were it but for a Day, for that Day thou didst yet enjoy the Consummation of all thy Wishes, a Lot rarely allowed to any Daughter of
Adam.
I was not then born to envy her State. Sweet Girl, she deserved you, she was after my own Heart, the Excess of her Passion for you made her truly worthy of you. But tell me, my Cousin, how could you be so long ignorant of the dear Girl's Affection for you? The Language of Love is so very intelligible, so expressive through every Motion and every Organ, as must, with sufficient Clearness, have opened your Eyes to the Object. Indeed, Madam, replied Mr.
Clinton,
she herself led me away from any such Apprehension, by drawing so many Pictures of the Man whom she said she loved, all copied from the Creature of her own Brain, and covered and disguised with such imaginary Excellencies as must have prevented myself, as well as every one living, from perceiving therein the smallest Trace of my own Resemblance. Don't tell me, cried Lady
Maitland,
she was a true and a sweet Painter, and I should have known you by her Portrait in the Midst of a Million. But proceed, I beseech you, my whole Soul is in your Story.
Within a few Months after my Marriage, continued Mr.
Clinton,
you, my Cousin, first opened your fair Eyes to the Light, and my
Matty
and I had the Honour of being your Sponsors.
Within the first Year of my Marriage, my Girl, also, brought a Son into the World, and within the two Years following was delivered of a Daughter.
The Joy of the Grandfather, on those Events, was indescribable. Alas, good Man! he thought that he perceived, in their infant Aspects, a thousand happy Promises and opening Prospects. He saw himself, as it were, perpetuated in a descending and widening Progeny, who, like their native
Thames,
should roll down in a Tide of expanding Wealth and Prosperity. He wanted that all the World should participate of his Happiness, and our House once more became the House of Festivity.
A Number of external Successes, also, assisted to persuade us, in those Days, that Felicity was to be attained and ascertained upon Earth. The Regency of
Cromwel
was administered with the strictest Justice at Home, while, at the same Time, it became revered and formidable abroad, and extended its Influence to Regions the most remote. Under the Protection of the
British
Flag, we sent our Ships out to the East, and to the West, and Wealth came pouring in upon us from all Quarters of the Globe.
In the mean while, my Wife and I lived together in perfect Harmony. Though my Commerce and Acquaintance was greatly extended, I had yet formed no Friendships, from Home, that partook of heart-felt Tenderness, except for your Mama. All my Pleasures and Desires, all my World was, in a Manner, confined and absorbed within the Compass of my own Walls. In the good old Man and his Daughter, and in the Pledges of their endearing Attachment to me, every Wish that my Soul could form was centred. Mutual Joy sat round our Board, mutual Peace prepared our Pillows, and, during a swimming Period of six Years, I scarce remember to have experienced the smallest Discontent, save what arose from the Inordinancy of my Wife's Affection for me.
While she continued to bless my Arms, I thought that no one had ever loved with greater Warmth than I loved her; and yet, at Times I remarked a very striking Difference between the Manner and Effects of our Feelings for each other. If Business detained me an Hour extraordinary abroad, the panting of her Bosom, that Eagerness of Look with which she received me, was to me a painful Evidence of her Anxiety during my Absence. One Evening I found her in fainting Fits, merely because she was told that a Duel had just happened between Lord
Mohun
and a Person who had much the Resemblance of her
Clinton.
In short, if my Head or my Finger ached, I found myself under the Necessity of concealing my Ailment, and of assuming a Cheerfulness disagreeable to the Occasion, to prevent the worse Consequences of her ready Alarms. On the other Hand, my Affection was tranquil and serene; it was tender and fervent, indeed, but without Tumult or Disturbance; a Species of Love which I afterwards found to be by far the most eligible; for every kind of Passion is unquestionably a kind of Suffering; Love in God, therefore, must be wholly an Action, it acts infinitely upon Others without any Possibility of being acted upon.
Thus the Years of my Life moved onward upon Down, when the Small-pox, that capital Enemy to Youth and Beauty, became epidemical in the City. Our Children caught the Contagion. All possible Care was taken, and all possible Art employed. A Number of Physicians was kept constantly about them. Fifteen Days of their Illness were already elapsed, and the Doctors pronounced them out of Danger; when the Distemper took a sudden and malignant Turn, and, in one and the same Minute, both my Babes expired in the Arms of their Mother.
I was in the Room, at the Time, and as I knew the extreme Tenderness of my
Matty
's Nature, all my Concern, as well as Attention, was turned upon her. I took her fondly by the Hand, and, looking up to her Face, I was instantly alarmed and shocked by that placid Serenity which appeared in her Countenance, and which I expected to be quickly changed into some frantic Eruption. But, first dropping a smiling Tear on her Infants, and then lifting her glistening Eyes to Heaven, I thank thee, I thank thee, O my Master, she cried, thou hast made me of some Use, I have not been born in vain; thou hast ordained me the humble Vehicle of two safe and certain Angels, living Attendants on thy Throne, and sweet Singers of thy Praises in the Kingdom of little Children, for ever and for ever. I have yet sufficient left, more Blessings remaining than suit the Lot of Mortality; take me from them, I beseech thee, whenever it is thy good Pleasure, for I fear there are some of them, which I could not, I could not bear to have taken away from me. So prayed the dear Saint, and looking eagerly at me, no, my
Harry,
she cried out, I fear, I fear I could not bear it! So saying, she suddenly cast herself into my Bosom, and grasping at my Neck, and gushing into a Flood of Anguish, we mingled our Sobs and our Tears together till no more were left to be shed.
You are affected, my dearest Cousin, I had better stop here. If you are moved by small Matters, how would your Heart be wrung by some ensuing Distresses; I must not venture to proceed.
Go on, cried the Countess, go on, I insist upon it. I love to weep, I joy to grieve, it is my Happiness, my Delight to have my Heart broken in Pieces.
We were, both of us; much relieved by the vent of our mutual Passion, for, though my Wife still continued to keep to me and cling about me, she yet seemed to be sweetly composed, and sunk, within my Arms, as into a Bed and Depth of Peace.
At length, I listened to a Kind of Murmur and Bustle in the Hall, and I heared some one distinctly cry, O my Master, my Master!
We started up at the Instant. Mr.
Golding
had been from Home at the time of the deadly Crisis of my two darling little Ones, and had quieted all his Fears, and renewed all his Prospects, in the View and full Assurance of their Life and quick Recovery. We had been too much engaged and occupied, in our own personal Griefs, to give to our Servants the seasonable Precaution of breaking the Matter to our Father by unalarming Degrees; and a rude Fellow, at his Entrance, bluntly told him that the Children were both dead; whereupon he clapped his Hands together, and, casting himself into a Chair, remained without Sense or Motion.
When we ran up, we were greatly terrified by the Manner of his Aspect, though his Eyes were closed, his Brows were gloomy and contracted, while the nether Part of his Face looked quiet and composed.
I instantly sent for a Surgeon, and recalled the Physicians who had but lately left us; while my
Matty
stood motionless, with her Hands closed together and her Eyes fixed upon her Father. At length she cried out, my Papa, my Papa, my dear Papa, I would I would I had died before I came to this Hour! but, blessed be thy Will since it is thy Will, O God! when all other Props are sapped and plucked from under me I trust to fall into thee, my Father which art in Heaven!
Being put to Bed, and bled, he recovered Motion and Speech, and we got him to swallow a composing Draught, though he did not yet recollect any Person or Thing about him.
Notwithstanding our late Fatigues,
Matty
and I sat up with him most of the Night; and then, ordering a Pallet to be brought into the Room, we lay down to take a little Rest toward Morning. Alas, said I to myself, how rich was I Yesterday, how is my World abridged! these narrow Walls now contain all that is left me of all the Possessions that I value upon Earth.
Poor Mr.
Golding
was but ill qualified to bear Calamity. His Life had been a Life of sound Health and Successes; and he never had been acquainted with Sickness, or with Affliction, save on the Death of his Wife whom he had married for Money, and on the Illness of his Daughter as already related.
As he had taken an Opiate, he did not awaken till it was late in the Day. Turning his Head toward me, is it you,
Harry,
says he? How do you find yourself, Sir, said I? --Why, has any thing been the Matter with me? Indeed I don't feel myself right; but, send my Children to me; send my
Jacky
and my little
Harriet;
the Sight of them will be a Restorative beyond all the Cordials in the World. --You are silent,
Harry
--What is the meaning? --O, now I begin to remember --my sweet Babies, my little Play-fellows, I shall never see you any more!
Here, he burst into the most violent Gush of Passion. He groaned, he wept, he cried aloud with heart-piercing Exclamations, while I caught up
Matty
in my Arms, and, running with her to a distant Apartment, caught a Kiss and locked her in.
I returned, but found him in the same Violence of Agitation. I spoke to him, I would have comforted him; but he cried, be quiet,
Harry,
I will not be comforted. I will go to my Children, they shall not be torn from me, we will die, we will be buried, we will lie in the same Grave together.
As I found myself sick, and ready to faint under the Oppression of his Lamentations, I withdrew to the next Chamber, and there plentifully vented the contagious Shower.
After some time I listened and perceived that all was quiet, and returning, I found him in a kind of troubled Doze, from whence he fell into a deep and peaceful Sleep. Thus he continued, for three Days, wailing and slumbring by Fits, without tasting any Matter of Nourishment, though his Daughter and I implored him, on our Knees, and with Tears. No Reasonings, no Entreaties could avail for appeasing him, it was from the Association of our Sorrows alone that he appeared to admit of any Consolation.
At length his Passion subsided into a sullen and silent Calm; he would speak to no body, he would answer none of us except by Monosyllables.
Within a few following Weeks, News was brought me that our Ship the Phoenix was arrived in the
Downs,
safe and richly laden from the East Indies.
Immediately I carried the Tidings to the old Man, in the pleasing Expectation that they would serve to divert, or, at least, to amuse his Melancholy. But, fixing his Look upon me, wherefore,
Harry,
dost thou tell me of Ships and Indies, he cried; both Indies are poor to me, they have nothing that they can send me. I have no Road to go upon Earth, no Way upon Sea to navigate, I am already become a wild and wasted
Babylon,
wherein the Voice of Music shall never more be heared. O ye old and unblessed Knees, where are now your precious Babies, who were wont to play about ye, and to cling and climb upon ye? gone, gone, gone, gone, never, never to return.
Here, breaking into Tears, I cried, we are both young yet, my Father, we may yet have many Children to be the Comfort of your Age. No, my
Harry,
no, he replied, you may, indeed, have many Children but you never will have any Children like my darling Children.
Love, as it should seem, my Cousin, like Bodies, has its Weight, and gains additional Velocity in the Descent. It descends from God to his Creatures, and so from Creature to Creature, but rarely knows a due Return of Affection or Gratitude. It is therefore incomparably more intense in the Parent than in the Child, and still acquires increasing Fondness toward the Grandchild and so downward. Nay, you may, almost universally, observe it more warm in Patrons toward their Dependents, than in those who are benefitted toward their Benefactors.
Mr.
Golding,
from this Time, no more entered his Counting-house, nor paid nor received Visits, nor kept up any Correspondence. Even my Company and that of his Daughter appeared to oppress him, and he rarely left his Apartment, where an old folio Bible was his only Companion.
Hereupon I began to withdraw our Effects from Trade, and having called in the best Part of them, I lodged near Half a Million in the
Dutch
Funds. When I went to advise with my Father on the Occasion, what, my Child, said he, what have I to say to the World, or to the Things of the World? Do just as you please with the one and with the other; and never consult a Person on any Affair wherein the Party consulted has no Interest or Concern.
One Morning, as I lay in Bed,
Matty
threw her Arms about me, and hiding her blushing Face in my Bosom, my
Harry,
says she, if you could handsomely bring it about to my poor Papa, perhaps it would be some Matter of Consolation to him to know that I am with Child.
When I broke the Matter to him, he did not, at first, appear to be sensibly affected; in time, however, the Weight of his Affliction seemed considerably lightened, and, as my Wife advanced in her Pregnancy, he began to look us in the Face, he sat with us at one Table, and became conversable as formerly.
One Day I went to dine with Mr.
Settle,
a Hardware Merchant, who had appointed to pay me a large Sum of Money. On my Return in the Evening, through
Moor-fields,
attended only by my favourite
Irishman,
a very faithful and active Fellow, though it was yet fair Day, I was suddenly set upon by a Posse of Robbers, who rushed on me from behind a Cover. The first of them, running up, fired directly in my Face, but did me no further Damage than by carrying away a small Piece of the upper Part of my left Ear. Had the Fools demanded my Money, I would have given it to them at a Word; but, finding them bent on Murder, I resolved that they should have my Life at as dear a Rate as possible. I instantly drew my Sword, and run the first through the Body; and then, rushing on the second Assailant, I laid him also on the Ground, before he had Time to take his Aim, so that his Pistol went harmlesly off in his Fall.
In the mean while, my brave and loving Companion was not idle; with two Strokes of his oaken Cudgel he had levelled two more of them with the Earth. Hereupon the Remainder halted, retreated into a Group, and then stood and fired upon us altogether; but, observing that we did not drop, they cast their Arms to the Ground, and run off several Ways as fast as they could. My good Friend,
Tirlah O'Donnoh,
then turned affectionately to me; are you hurt, my dear Master, says he? I believe I am,
Tirlah,
let us make Home the best we can. O, cried the noble Creature, if no body was hurt but
Tirlah, Tirlah
would'nt be hurt at all.
Here, taking me under the Arm, we walked slowly to the City, till coming to a hackney Coach he put me, tenderly, into, it, and sitting beside me, supported me, as I began to grow weak through much Effusion of Blood.
As soon as we got Home, the Coachman, as is their Practice, thundered at the Door, and my
Matty,
according to Custom whenever I was abroad, was the readiest of all our Domestics to open.
By this Time I had fainted, and was quite insensible, but when my tender and true Mate saw me borne by two Men into her Presence, all pale and bloody, she, who thought she had Fortitude to support the Wreck of the World, gave a Shriek that was enough to alarm the Neighbourhood, and instantly falling backward, got a violent Contusion in the hinder Part of her Head.
Immediately we were conveyed to separate Beds, and all requisite Help was provided. It was found that I had received six or seven flesh Wounds, but none of them proved dangerous, as they were given at a Distance and by Pistol Shot. But, alas, my
Matty
's Case was very different, she fell into sudden and premature Labour, and, having suffered extreme Anguish all the Night, during which she ceased not to enquire after me, she was with Difficulty delivered of a male Infant, who was suffocated in the Birth.
In the mean while, the good and tenderhearted old Gentleman hurried about, incessantly, from One of us to the Other, wringing his Hands, and scarcely retaining his Senses.
As soon as my Wounds were dressed, and I had recovered my Memory, I looked about, and hastily enquired for my Wife; but they cautiously answered me, that she was something indisposed with the Fright which she got at seeing me bloody, and that her Father had insisted on her going to Bed.
On the second Dressing of my Wounds, I was pronounced out of Danger, and then they ventured to tell me of my
Matty
's Miscarriage, and of the Bruise which she had got in her Fall when she fainted. On hearing this my Heart was cleft, as it were, in twain; I accused myself of the Murder of my Wife and Infant; and I accused All, without Exception, of their Indiscretion in not concealing my Disaster from her.
At Times I began to fear that my Wife was either dead, or much worse than they represented. On my third Dressing, therefore, I peremptorily insisted on my being carried into her Chamber. I sent her Notice of my Visit, and, on entering the Room, he lives then, she cried, my Husband, my
Harry
lives, it is enough, I shall die happy, I shall now depart in Peace.
Here I ordered myself to be laid by her Side, when taking a Hand, which she had feebly reached out, and pressing it to my Lips, you would forsake me then, my
Matty,
you die, you say, and you die happy in leaving me the most wretched, the most desolate of Men. You die, my Love, you die; and I, who would have fostered you and your Babe with my Vitals, 'tis I who have dug a Grave for the One and for the Other. But, you must not forsake me, my
Matty,
I will not be forsaken by you. Since we cannot live asunder, let us die, let us die together!
Here, a passionate Silence ensued on either Part. But, my Wounds growing painful and beginning to bleed afresh, I was obliged to be carried back to my own Apartment.
Within a few Days more, I was so well recovered as to be able to walk about, from which time I was a constant Attendant on my Beloved, and became her most tender and assiduous Nursekeeper.
You must have heard, my Cousin, that the Customs and Manners of those Times were altogether the Reverse of what they are at present. Hypocrisy is no longer a Fault among Men, all now is avowed Libertinism and open Profaneness; and Children scoff at the Name and Profession of that Religion which their Fathers revered. On the contrary, in those Days, all Men were either real or pretended Zealots; every Mechanic professed, like
Aaron,
to carry a
Urim
and
Thummim
about him; and no Man would engage in any Business or Bargain, though with an Intent to overreach his Neighbour, without going apart, as he said, to consult the Lord.
My
Matty,
at the same Time, was the holiest of all Saints, without any Parade of Sanctification. Her's was a Religion, of whose Value she had the daily and hourly Experience; it was indeed a Religion of Power. It held her, as on a Rock, in the Midst of a turbulent and fluctuating World. It gave her a Peace of Spirit that smiled at Provocation. It gave her Comfort in Affliction, Patience in Anguish, Exaltation in Humiliation, and Triumph in Death.
In about five Weeks after her unhappy Miscarriage, she appeared on the Recovery, though by very slow Degrees, and with Assistance, at Times, sat up in her Bed; when her oldest Physician, one Morning, called me apart, I am loath, Sir, said he, very loath to acquaint you with my Apprehensions. I wish I may be mistaken, but I fear greatly for you, I fear that your dear Lady cannot recover. By the Symptoms I conjecture that an Abscess, or Impostume, is forming within her; but a few Days will ascertain Matters either for us or against us.
Had all Sorts of evil Tidings come crowding One upon Other, I should not have been affected as I then was affected. I could not rise from my Seat to bid the Doctor adieu. My Knees trembled under me; a Swimming came before my Eyes; and a sudden Sickness relaxed and reversed my whole Frame. Alas, I had not, at that Time, the Resource of my
Matty;
I had not on the Armour with which she was armed to all Issues and Events. I, however, raised my Thoughts to Heaven, in a kind of helpless Acquiescence rather than confident Resignation. I struggled, not to appear weaker than became my Manhood; and I said to myself, Doctors have often been mistaken.
Having recollected my Strength and Spirits the best I could, I adventured to enter my Wife's Apartment. She was just raised in her Bed, from whence her pale and emaciated Countenance looked forth as the Sun, toward his Setting, looks through a sickly Atmosphere, in Confidence of his arising in the Fulness of Morning Glory.
Having cautiously and dejectedly seated myself beside her, she reached out both her Hands, and, pressing one of mine between them, I love you no longer, my
Harry,
she cried; I love you no longer. Your Rival, at length, has conquered.
am the Bride of Another. And yet I love you in a Measure, since in you I love all that is him, or that is his, and that I think is much, a great deal, indeed, of all that is lovely. O, my dear, my sweet, mine only Enemy, as I may say! Riches were nothing unto me, Pleasures were nothing unto me, the World was nothing unto me; You, and you only,
Harry,
stood between me and my Heaven, between me and my God. Long, and often, and vainly, have I strove and struggled against you; but my Bridegroom, at length, is become jealous of you; my true Owner calls me from you, and takes me all to himself! Be not alarmed then, my
Harry,
when I tell you that I must leave you. You will grieve for me, you will grieve greatly for me, my Beloved! but, give way to the kindly Shower that your Lord shed for his
Lazarus,
and let the Tears of Humanity alleviate and lighten the Weight of your Affliction.    Ah, my
Harry,
I tremble for you; what a Course you have to run !    what Perils! what Temptations! deliver him from them, my Master, deliver him from them all:  Again what blissful Prospects  they are gone, they are vanished !    I sink, I die under the Weight and Length of succeeding Misery !    Again it opens, all is cleared, and his End, like that of
Job,
is more blessed than his Beginning.    Ah, my
Harry,
my
Harry,
your Heart must be wrung by many Engines, it shall be tried in many Fires, but I trust it is a golden Heart, and will come forth with all its Weight.
You have been dreaming, my Love, I said, you have been dreaming; and the Impression still lies heavy and melancholy on your Memory.
Yes, she replied, I have been dreaming indeed; but then my Dreams are much more real then my waking Visions. When all Things sensible are shut out, it is then that the Spirit enlarges, grows conscious of its own Activity, its own Power and Prescience, and sees by a Light whose Evidence is beyond that of the Sun. I will tell you a Secret, my
Harry,
there is nothing in the Universe but
Littleness,
and
Greatness,
the
Littleness
of the Creature and the
Greatness,
of God, and in the Sense of this lies the Essence of all Philosophy and of all Religion. Be content, then, with your Lot, my Husband, be content to be little, if you wish to be great. Become a Nothingness, an Emptiness, and then your God will bring the Fulness of his own Immensity upon you, and will open a World in your Spirit more expanded and more glorious than this surrounding World with all its Luminaries.
O, my Angel, I cried, should any thing happen to you, I should then be little indeed. But, I dare not look that Way, for I know, I find, I feel that I could not survive you.
You must survive me, my
Harry,
nay you will once more be married. I beheld your Bride last Night. Even now she stands before me, the Sister of my Spirit, and one of the loveliest Compositions of Sin and Death that ever was framed for Dissolution. Her, also, you will lose; and you will think, nay, you will assure yourself that no Powers in Heaven or Earth can avail for a Ray of Comfort. In this Life, however, you will finally, unexpectedly, and most wonderfully be blessed; and, soon after, we shall all meet and be more intimately and more endearingly wedded than ever, where yet there is neither marrying nor giving in Marriage.
While she yet spoke, her Pains, as the Pains of Labour, again came upon her, and went off, and again returned, after intermitted Swoonings.
O, my Cousin, what a solemn, what a fearful Thing is Death! all our Inlets of Knowledge and Sensation closed at once! the Sound of Cheer and the Voice of Friendship, and the Comfort of Light shut out from us for ever! Nothing before us but a Blackness and Depth of Oblivion, or, beyond it, a doubtful and alarming Sensibility, strange Scenes, and strange Worlds, strange Associates and strange Perceptions, perhaps of horrid Realities, infinitely worse than Nonentity; such are the brightest Prospects of Infidelity in Death.
Where, at that Time, are your Scoffers, your Defiers of Futurity? where your merry Companions, who turn their own Eternity into Matter of Laugh and Ridicule? dejected and aghast, their Countenance wholly fallen, and their Heart sunk within them, they all tremble and wish to believe, in this the Hour of Dissolution. They feel their Existence sapped and sinking from under them; and Nature compells them, in the Drowning of their Souls, to cry out, to Something, to any thing, save, save, or I perish!
Far different was the State of my little and lowly
Matty,
my Saint of Saints, at that tremendous Period; where all Others would have sunk, there she soared aloft; and she dropped the World and its Wealth, with her Body and all the sensible Affections thereof, with the same Satisfaction that a poor Man, just come to a great Estate, would drop his tattered Garb to put on gorgeous Apparel.
Oh, my Beloved! she would cry in the Midst of her Pains, I have been weakly through Life, I have been Weakness itself, and therefore not able to take up thy Cross; but be thou Strong in my Weakness, show thy Mightiness in me, and then lay it upon me with all its Weight!
Again, after a Swoon, and when her Pangs became excessive, I refuse not thy Process, my Master, she cried. Thy Cross and thorny Crown they are all my Ambition. Point thy Thorns, twist them harder, let them pierce into my Soul, so thou suffer me not to fail or fall from thee, I care not.
Think, my Cousin, what I endured upon that Occasion, my rending Heart shared her Sufferings, and felt Pang for Pang. Nay, I was not far from murmuring and questioning with my God on his putting to such Tortures the most guiltless of his Creatures. If the Lambs of thy Flock, I secretly said, if thy Lambs are appointed to such excruciating Sensations, what must be the Portion of such Sinners as I am?
When she drew near the Goal of her blessed Course upon Earth, O my almighty
Samson!
she faintly cried, thou shakest the two Pillars of my frail and sinful Fabric; finish then thy Conquest in me; down, down with the whole Building appointed to ruin! let no one, O Lord, of mine Enemies or of thine Enemies escape thy victorious Arm! but slay all those by my Death, with whom I have been vainly combating during my Life-time! So saying, her Pains in an Instant forsook her. The Form of her Countenance was suddenly changed from the Expression of Agony into that of Ecstasy. She raised her Hands on high, and exerting herself to follow them, she cried, I come, I come! then sighed and dropped over.    The Muscles of her Face still retained the Stamp of the last Sentiment of her Soul, and while the Body hastened to be mingled with Earth, it seemed to partake of that Heaven to which its Spirit had been exalted.
You may think it odd, dearest Madam, that, for some time past, I have taken no Note of the Man to whom I was tied by every possible Band of Duty, Gratitude and Affection. The Fact is, that, during the latter Part of my Wife's Illness, and for some Weeks after her Death, Mr.
Golding
was confined to his Chamber by a severe Fit of the Gout, and the Acuteness of his Pains scarce permitted him to attend to any other Concern. While my
Matty
lived, therefore, I divided my Time and Assiduities as equally as I could between the Daughter and Father, and, at any Intervals of Ease, I used to read to him his favourite Passages in the Bible.
As soon as my Saint had expired, I charged the Servants not to give any Intimation of her Death to their Master, but alas, our Silence and our Looks were too sure Indicators of the fatal Tidings; for, from the highest to the least, my
Matty
had been the Idol of the whole House, and her Death appeared to them as the Loss of every earthly Possession.
Having looked, several times, intently and inquisitively in my Face, well,
Harry,
says Mr.
Golding,
all is over then, I see, we must go to her, but my Child shall no more return to us.    You are silent, my
Harry.
  O thou fell Glutton, Death! I had but one Morsel left for the whole of my Sustenance, and that too thou hast devoured. Here he gave a deep Groan, and sunk into a State of Insensibility, from which, however, he was soon recovered by the Return of an anguishing Fit of the Gout.
When I look back, my fair Cousin, on the Passages of my Life; it is a Matter of Amazement to me, that a Creature so frail, so feebly and so delicately constituted as Man, with Nerves so apt to be racked, and a Heart to be wrung with Anguish, can possibly endure under the Weights of Calamity that, at times, are laid upon him.
I had not yet dropped a Tear. I was in a State of half stupid and half flighty Insensibility; as One who, having lost every thing, had nothing further to look for, and therefore nothing to regard. But, when I saw my dear old Man, my best Friend, my Father, whelmed under such a Depth of Affliction, all the Sluices of my Soul and inmost Affections were laid open, and I broke into an avowed Passion of Tears and Exclamations, till, like
David
in his Strife of Love with
Jonathan,
I exceeded. I accused myself of all the Evils that had happened to his House; and I devoted the Day to Darkness and the Night to Desolation, wherein, by my Presence and Connections, I had brought those Mischiefs upon him. The good Man was greatly struck, and, I think, partly consoled by the Excess of my Sorrows, and, all desolate as he was, he attempted to administer that Comfort to me which he himself wanted more than Any who had Life.
Break not your Heart, my
Harry,
break not your Heart, my Child, he cried! deprive me not of the only Consolation that is left me; you are now my only Trust, my only Stay, upon Earth. A wretched Merchant I am, whose whole Wealth is cast away, save thee, thou precious Casket, thou only Remnant of all my Possessions! My Girl, indeed, was thy true Lover, the tenderest of all Mates; her Love to thee, my Son, was passing the Love of Woman; but we have lost her, we have lost her, and Wailing is all the Portion that is left us below.
As soon as the Family heard the Voice of our Mourning, they too gave a Loose to the Impatience of their Griefs, and all the House was filled with the Sound of Lamentation.
On the following Day I summoned the chief medical Artists, and got the precious Remains of my Angel embalmed. She was laid under a sumptuous Canopy with a Silver Coffin at her Bed's Foot, and, every Night when the House was at Rest, I stole secretly from my Bed and stretched myself beside her. I pressed her cold Lips to mine. I clasp'd her Corse to my warm Bosom, as though I expected to restore it to Life by transfusing my Soul into it. I spoke to her, as when living, I reminded her of the several tender and endearing Passages of our Loves; and I reminded her also of the Loss of our little Ones, by whom we became essentially One, inseparably united in Soul and Body for ever.
There is surely, my Cousin, a Species of Pleasure in Grief; a Kind of soothing and deep Delight that arises with the Tears which are pushed from the Fountain of God in the Soul, from the Charities and Sensibilities of the human Heart divine.
True, true, my precious Cousin, replied the Countess, giving a fresh Loose to her Tears; O
Matilda,
I would I were with thee! true, my Cousin, I say, even now I sink, I die under the Pleasure of your Narration.
Upon the ninth Night, continued Mr.
Clinton,
as I lay by the Side of all that remained of my
Matty,
overtoiled and overwatched, I fell into a deep Sleep. My Mind notwithstanding, at the Time, seemed more awake and more alive to Objects than ever. In an Instant she stood visible and confessed before me. I saw her clearer than at noon Day, by the Light which she cast with Profusion abroad. Every Feature and former Trace seemed heightened into a Lustre without a Loss of the least Similitude. She smiled ineffable Sweetness and Blessedness upon me. And stooping down, I felt her Embrace about my Heart and about my Spirit, while, at the same Time, I saw her bent in Complacence before me. After a Length of ecstatic Pleasure, which I felt from her Communion and Infusion into my Soul; my
Harry,
says she, grieve not for me; all the Delights that your World could sum up, in an Age, would not amount to my Bliss, no, not for an Hour; it is a Weight of Enjoyment that, in an Instant, would crush to nothing the whole Frame of your Mortality. Grieve not then for me, my
Harry,
but resign my beggarly Spoils to their beggarly Parent, Ashes to Ashes and Dust to Dust! In my inordinate Fondness for you, I have at length obtained a Promise that my Master and your Master, my Beloved and your Lover shall, finally, bear you triumphant through all the Enemies that are set in fearful Array against you. Having so said, I felt myself as it were compressed within an Engine of Love; and again, losing the Remembrance of all that had passed, I sunk, as into a State of utter Oblivion.
Toward the Dawning, I was awakened by the clapping of Hands and the Cries of Lamentation. Starting up, I perceived Mr.
Golding
at the Bedside, suspended over his
Matty
and me, and pouring forth his Complaints.
There was a favoured Domestic of his, a little old Man, who had always kept a careful and inquisitive Eye over every Thing that was in or concerned our Household, This
Argus,
it seems, at length suspected my nightly Visits to the Dead, and, lurking in a Corner, saw me open and enter the Chamber where the Corps was deposited. As he lay in his Master's Apartment, he took the first Opportunity of his being awake to impart what he thought a Matter of extraordinary Intelligence to him. Sir, says he, if I am not greatly deceived, my young Master is this Moment in Bed with his dead Lady. What is this you tell me? cried Mr.
Golding.
No,
John,
no, what you say is impossible. All who live love that which is living alone; whatever savours of Death is detestable to all Men. As I am here, replied
John,
I am almost assured that what I tell you is Fact. Peace, Peace, you old Fool, said Mr.
Golding,
think you that our
Harry
is more loving than Father
Abraham,
and yet
Abraham
desired to bury his Dead out of his Sight. I know not how that may be, said trusty
John,
but, if you are able to stir, I will help you to go and see, I am sure the Thought of it melts the very Heart within me.
Accordingly, Mr.
Golding,
like old
Jacob,
strengthened himself and arose, and, pained as he was, he came with the Help of his
John
to the Place where I lay.
Having for some Time looked upon me, as I slept with his
Matty
fast folded in my Arms; he could no longer contain his Emotions, but he and
John
broke forth into Tears and Exclamations. O, my Children, my Children, my dearest Children, he cried, why did ye exalt me to such a Pitch of Blessedness? was it only to cast me down into the deeper Gulf of Misery, a Gulf that has neither Bank nor Bottom?
As I arose, all ashamed to be detected in that Manner, the good Man caught me in his Arms. My
Harry,
my
Harry,
says he, what shall I pay you, my Son, for your superabundant Love to me and to mine? could my Wretchedness give you Bliss, I should almost think myself blessed in being wretched, my
Harry.
I now prepared to execute the late Command of my Angel, and to consign to Earth the little that was earthly in her. But, when our Domestics understood that all that was left of their loved Mistress was now going to be taken away from them for ever, they broke into Tears anew, and set no Bounds to their Lamentations.
Her desolate Father was desirous of attending the Funeral, but, on my Knees, I dissuaded him from it, as I was assured it would burst in twain the already overstretched Thread of his Age and Infirmities. He then insisted on having the Lid of the Coffin removed, and bending over, he cast his old Body on the Corse; again he rose and gazed upon it, and clapping his Hands with a Shout, Is this my World, he cried, the Whole of my Possessions? Are you the one that was once my little prattling
Matty,
the Playfellow of my Knees, the Laugher away of Care, who brought Cheer to my Heart and Warmth to my Bosom? Are you the one for whom, alone, I spent my Nights in Thought and my Days in Application? Is this all that is left, then, of my Length of Labours? O, my Spark of Life is quenched; in thee, my
Matty,
my
Matty,
the flowing Fountain of my Existence is dried up for ever.
There is something exceedingly solemn and affecting, my Cousin, in the Circumstances and Apparatus of our Funerals; they are oppressive even to Minds that are no way concerned or interested in the Death of the Party lamented. Though I grieved no more for my
Matty,
though I was as assured of her Bliss as I was of my own Being; yet, when the Gloom of the Procession was gathered around me, when I heard the Wailings of the many Families whom her Charity had sustained; when I heard the bitter Sobbings of the Servants, whom her Sweetness had so endearingly attached to her Person; when all joined to bewail themselves, as lost in her Loss; my Heart died, as it were, within me, and I should have been suffocated on the Spot, had I not given instant Way to the Swell of my Sorrows.
The Tempest of the Soul, Madam, like that of the Elements, can endure but for a Season. The Passion of Mr.
Golding,
on the Interment of every Joy and of every Hope that he could look for upon Earth, within a few Weeks subsided, or rather sunk into a solid but sullen Peace, a Kind of Peace that seemed to say there is nothing in this Universe that can disturb me.
Harry,
said he, one Evening, I have been thinking of the Vision that I have had. Vision, Sir, said I, has my
Matty
then appeared to you? Yes, he answered, she was the principal Part of my Vision for these twenty Years past. The Vision that I mean, my
Harry,
is the Dream of a very long and laborious Life. Here have I, by the Toil of fifty Years Application, scraped together and accumulated as much as, in these Times, would set Kings at Contention, and be accounted a worthy Cause for spilling the Blood of Thousands; and yet what are these Things to me, or of what Value in themselves, more than the Stones and Rubbish that make our Pavement before the Door? I have been hungering and thirsting after the Goods of this World, I have acquired all that it could give me, and now my Soul, like a sick Stomach, disgorges the Whole. I then took one of his Hands, and pressing it tenderly between mine, O, my Father, I cried, my dear, dear Father, O, that I might be made Sons and Daughters and every Sort of Kindred to you! all that I am and have should gladly be spent in bringing any Kind of Comfort to you, my Father!
In about a Fortnight after, as I entered his Apartment to bid him good Morrow, I observed that his Countenance had much altered from what it was the Evening before, that he looked deeply dejected and seemed to breathe with difficulty.
Are not you well, Sir? No, says he, my Spirits are greatly oppressed. I find that I must leave you shortly; I believe that I must go suddenly, but where to? that is the Question, the very terrible Question; the only Question of any Importance in Heaven or on Earth. Sure, Sir, said I, that can be no Question to you, whose whole Life has been a continued Course of Righteousness, of daily Worship to God, and good Will to all Men. If you have any Sins to account for, they must be covered tenfold by the Multitude of your Charities.
Talk not,
Harry,
said he, of the filthy Rags of my own Righteousness. I am far from the Confidence of the boastful Pharisee; alas, I have not even that of the poor and humbled Publican, for I dare not look up to say,
Lord, be merciful to me a Sinner!
wherefore then do you speak of having finished my Course toward God and toward Man? It is but lately, very lately that I set out upon it, and I am cut short before I I have got within Sight of the Goal. Yes,
Harry,
I fear, I know, I feel that there is no Salvation for me.
You amaze me, Sir, said I, you terrify me to Death. If there is not Salvation for such as you, what a Depth of Perdition opens for the rest of Mankind.
I would you could convince me, he cried, I want to be comforted, I desire Comfort, any Kind of Consolation. But I feel my Condemnation within myself; moreover, I see every Text of the Gospel of the Words of Life terribly marshalled and set in broad Array against me. What Text, Sir? said I; I am sure I know of no Texts that bring Terror or Condemnation to the Just. Ah,
Harry,
he replied, Justice is of the Law and the Circumcision, and has nothing to do with the new Covenant or the new Man. For, what says the great Apostle?
Circumcision availeth nothing, neither Uncircumcision, but a new Creature.
For Christ himself had said,
Except a Man be born again he cannot see the Kingdom of God.
Again, the same Apostle saith,
I delight in the Law of God after the inward Man.
And again,
my little Children of whom I travel in Birth again, until Christ be formed in you.
Now, if all these corresponding Expressions of being
born again,
a
new Creature,
a
new Man,
an
inward Man, Christ formed in us,
&c. are to be glossed and explained away, as meaning little more than a State of moral Sentiments and moral Behaviour, there can be nothing of real Import in the Gospel of Christ.
Again, hear what the Redeemer saith.
Except ye be converted and become as little Children, ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.
Again,
If any Man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his Cross and follow me.
Again,
Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my Disciple,
&c.
If these Things, I cried, are to be taken according to the apparent Sense and Import of the Letter, neither the Teachers of the Gospel, nor those who are taught, can be saved.
Therefore, replied he, it is said that,
Many be called but few chosen.
And again,
Enter ye in at the Strait Gate, for wide is the Gate, and broad is the Way that leadeth to Destruction, and many they be which go in thereat: Because strait is the Gate, and narrow is the Way which leadeth unto Life, and few there be that find it.
O, my
Harry,
my
Harry,
our Lives have been employed in seeking and
loving the World and the Things of the World,
therefore
the Love of the Father could not be in us.
O, that I had never been born! O thou God, whose Tribunal, at this Hour, is set up so tremendously against me; at length I feel the Propriety of thy Precepts, in rejecting the World and all that is therein, for what can they yield, save a little Food and Raiment to bodily Corruption, or Incitements to that Pride which cast
Lucifer
into a Gulf that now opens before me without a Bottom.
As I trembled and had nothing to answer, I proposed to bring some of our Clergy to him. No,
Harry,
no, says he, I will have none of their wordy Comforts, I will not cast my Soul upon bladdered Expectations. Can they persuade me that I am one of the Few who are chosen; can they tell me wherein I have striven to enter at the strait Gate, where many shall seek to enter but shall not be able?
Here he sunk into a a Fit of agonizing Desperation, so that a cold Dew broke forth from all Parts of his Body, and fell, Drop after Drop, down his ghastly and fearful Countenance. Never, Madam, never did I feel such a Kind of anguishing Horror as I then felt, I was affrightened and all frozen to my inmost Soul. Haste, my dear Sir, exclaimed Lady
Maitland,
make haste through this Part of your Narration, I beseech you! I also feel for myself, I am terrified to the last Degree.
At length, continued Mr.
Clinton,
I recollected myself a little. My Master, I cried, my Father, my dearest Father, since you will not take Comfort in your own Righteousness, take Comfort in that of Him who was made Righteousness for you. Do you not now reject the World, do you not now deny yourself? I do, I do, he said, I detest the one and the other. And do you not feel that you're wholly a Compound of Sin and of Death? Ay, he cried, there is the Weight, there's the Mountain under which I sink for ever. Come then to Christ, my Father, heavy laden as you are, and he will, questionless, embrace you and be Rest to you, my Father! I would come,
Harry,
he cried, but I dare not, I am not able. Strive, my Father; do but turn to him, and he will more than meet you. Cry out, with sinking Peter,
Save, Lord, or I perish!
and he will catch you with the Hand of his ever ready Salvation.
Here, his Countenance began to settle into an earnest Composure; and his Eyes were turned and fixed upward; while his old and enfeebled Body continued to labour under the Symptoms of near Dissolution. At length he started, and, seizing my Hand with a dying Pressure, there is Comfort,
Harry,
there is Comfort! he cried, and expired.
I WAS now cast, once more, upon a strange and friendless World. All the Interests of my Heart were buried with this Family; and I seemed to myself, as without Kindred or Connections in the Midst of Mankind. Your dear Mama, indeed, sometimes called to condole with me, and water my Losses with her Tears; and in her, and you, my Cousin, young as you then were, was locked up and centred the whole Stock that I had left of endearing Sensations.
As the Scenes of my former Happiness served, daily and nightly, to render me more wretched by a sad Recollection; I determined to quit my House and to take private Lodgings. For this Purpose I summoned Mr.
Golding
's Domesties, and, as he had made no Will, I first paid them their Wages, and then gave them such pretended Legacies as brought their Tears and their Blessings in a Shower upon me.
As soon as I had discharged all, except the two favourite Servants of my Master and my
Matty,
I desired that
John,
our little old Man, should be sent to me.
John,
said I, as he entered, here is a Bill for five hundred Pounds, which our good old Master has left you, in Token of his Acknowledgment of your true and loving Services, and to help, with what you have saved, to soften and make easy the Bed of Death in your old Age. Do you mean to part with me, Sir, said
John,
seemingly thankless and unconcerned about the Gift which I had offered him; Indeed,
John,
said I, in my present State of Dejection, Attendance of any Kind would but be an Encumbrance to me. Then, Sir, you may keep your Bounty to yourself, for I shall break my Heart before five and twenty Hours are over. Nay,
John,
said I, I am far from turning you from me; stay with me as my Friend and welcome, but not as my Servant, and I shall see the Comfort of old Times in always seeing you about me. Thank you, thank you, Sir, he cried, I will not disturb you with my Tears; but, I should die unblessed, I should die unblessed, if I died out of your Presence, so saying, he rushed from me in a Fit of restrained Passion.
I then sent for my Wife's Maid, whom I formerly mentioned. She had just heard of my discharging the other Servants, and entered with a sad and alarmed Countenance. Come near, Mrs.
Susan,
I am going to part with you, said I, come to me and give me a farewell Kiss. She approached with downcast Looks, when, taking her in my Arms, I pressed and kissed her repeatedly, and scarce witheld my Tears. O, my Girl, my
Matty
's precious Girl, I cried, I am not forgetful of your Love, your Honour, and your Disinterestedness toward us. Here, my
Susy,
your darling Mistress presents you with this Bill of a thousand Pounds, and, if you choose, I will give you Cash for it within a Quarter of an Hour. This, however, does not discharge me from my Regard and Attention to you; you are of a helpless Sex, my
Susy,
that is subject to many Impositions and Calamities; wherefore, when this Sum shall fail you, come to me again, come to me as to your Friend, as to your Debtor,
Susy,
and I will repeat my Remembrance, and repeat it again, as you may happen to have Occasion; for, while I have Sixpence left, the favourite Friend of my
Matty
shall not want her Proportion.
Here, the grateful and amazed Creature threw herself on the Floor. She cried aloud, while the Family heard and echoed to her Lamentations. She clasped my Knees, she kissed my Feet again and again. I could not disengage myself, I could not force her from me. O, my Master, she cried, my all that is left to me of my adored my Angel Mistress, must I then be torn from you, must you live without the Service of the Hands and Heart of your
Susy?
But, I understand your Regard and Care for me, my Master! it is a cruel and naughty World, and must be complied with.
Here I compelled her to rise, and kissing her again, I turned hastily to the Chamber where my
Matty
's Corps had been laid; and bolting the Door, and casting myself on the Bed, I broke into Tears, and at length wept myself to sleep.
While I was preparing to leave the once loved Mansion, I found, in Mr.
Golding
's Cabinet, a Parchment that much surprised me. On my Marriage, he had proposed to make a Settlement of his Fortune upon me, which, however, I obstinately refused to accept; whereupon, without my Privity, he got this Deed perfected, which contained an absolute Conveyance to me of all his worldly Effects and Possessions; and this again renewed in me the tender and endearing Remembrance of each of those Kindnesses and Benefits which he had formerly conferred upon me.
I now found myself in possession of near a Million of Money, which, however, in my Disposition of Mind at the time, appeared no worthier than so much Lumber in a waste Room. And I know not how it was that through the subsequent Course of my Life, although I was by no Means of an oeconomical Turn, though I never sued for a Debt, nor gave a Denial to the Wants of those who asked, nor turned away from him who desired to borrow of me, yet uncoveted Wealth came pouring in upon me.
It was not without some Sighs and a plentiful Shower, that I departed from the Seat of all my past Enjoyments. I took Lodgings within a few Doors of your Father; and my little Household consisted of my favourite
Irishman,
my little old Man, two Footmen, and an elderly Woman who used daily to dress a plain Dish of Meat for us.
It was then, my fairest Cousin, that your opening Graces and early Attractions drew me daily to your House; my Heart was soothed and my Griefs cheered by the Sweetness of your Prattle; and I was melted down and minted anew, as it were, by the unaffected Warmth and Innocence of your Caresses.
As I had no Faith in Dreams, not even in that of my
Matty,
I thought it impossible that I should ever marry again. I therefore resolved, in my own Mind, to make you my Heir, and to endow you, in Marriage, with the best Part of my Fortune  But, you are a little pale, Madam, you look dejected and fatigued. If you please, I will suspend my Narration for the present; and in the Morning, if you choose it, as early as you will, I shall renew and proceed in my insignificant History.    Here he pressed her Hand to his Lips. She withdrew with a tearful Eye and a heaving Heart; and, the next Day, he resumed his Narration, as followeth.
CHAP. XV.
THOUGH you, my Cousin, at that Time, were a great Consolation to me, and a sweet Lightner of my Afflictions; yet the Griefs of Heart which I had suffered were not without their Effect; at length they fell on my Constitution, and affected my Nerves or Spirits; I think our Doctors pretty much confound the One with the Other. Accordingly, I was advised to travel for Change of Air and Exercise; and I was preparing for my Journey, when there happened in my Family the most extraordinary Instance of an ever watchful Providence that occurs to my Memory.
My little old Man
John
began to decline apace, and at length took to his Bed; and, having a tender Friendship for him, I went to sit beside him, and to comfort him the best I could.
John,
said I, are you afraid to die? No, Sir, not at all, not in the least. I long to be dissolved and to be with our loving Lord. Indeed,
John,
said I, I am inclined to think you have been a very good Liver. A Dog, Sir, a mere Dog, desperately wicked, the vilest of Sinners! I am a Murderer too, my Master, there's Blood upon my Head. Blood? said I, and started. Yes, Sir, replied
John,
but then the Blood that was shed for me is stronger and more precious than the Blood that was shed by me. Blood, however,
John,
is a very terrible Thing; are you not afraid to appear before the judgement Seat of Christ? By no Means, my dear Master, I have long since laid the Burden of my Sins before him, for I had nothing else to bring to him, nothing else to offer him, and he has accepted them and me, and my Conscience is at Rest in him. Then,
John,
there may yet be Room for Hope. There is Assurance, my Master, for I have laid hold upon the Rock, and cannot be shaken.
But how do you intend to dispose of your worldly Substance? All that I have, Sir, I got with you and my old Master, and, where I found it, even there I resolve to leave it. Indeed,
John,
I will not finger a Penny of your Money. How much may it amount to? Eight Hundred and Thirty Seven Pounds, Sir, or thereabout. And have you no Relations of your own? Not one living that I know of. Then think of some one else, for no Part of it shall lie on my Conscience, I assure you.
I have read somewhere or other, Sir, of a great King who was advised of God, in a Dream, to take the very first Man, whom he should meet the next Morning, to be his Partner in the Government. Now, if it pleases you, my Master, I will follow the like Counsel, and whosoever shall be first found before our Door, let that Person be the Owner and Inheritor of my Substance! It shall be even as you say, I will go and see whom God shall be pleased to send to us.
Accordingly I went and opened our Door, when a Woman, who had nearly passed, turned about at the Noise, and perceiving me, came up and said, a little Charity, Sir, for the sake of him who had not where to lay his Head!
I was strongly affected by the Manner in which she addressed me, and, eyeing her attentively, I observed that she was clean though meanly apparelled; wherefore, to make a further Trial whether our Adventure was likely to prove prosperous or not, I slipped a Guinea into her Hand, and desired her to go about her Business. Accordingly, she courtesied and went from me a few Steps, when, looking into her Hand, she turned suddenly back; Sir, Sir, says she, here had like to have been a sad Mistake, you meant to give me a Shilling, and you have given me a whole Guinea; it was, says I, a very great Mistake, indeed; but, be pleased to come in, and we will try to rectify our Errors.
Here, I took her into the Chamber where
John
lay, and, having constrained her to sit down, I put my Hand in my Pocket. Here, good Woman, said I, here are Ten Guineas for you, to make you some Amends for the Mistake I was guilty of in giving you but One. The poor Creature could scarcely credit her Senses, but, raising her Eyes in Ecstacy, and dropping from the Chair upon her Knees, she was proceeding to bless me; but I peremptorily insisted on her retaking her Seat. Mistress, said I, be pleased to stay your Prayers for the present; what I want from you is the Story of your Life; tell me who and what you are, without suppressing any Circumstances, or concealing the Faults of which you have been guilty, and I will make you the Mistress of twenty Guineas, that shall be added to what you have already received.
Sir, said she, you frighten me; my Story is a very unhappy and a very foolish Story, and cannot be of the smallest Consequence to you. Sure, you are too much of the Gentleman to desire to ensnare me; and, indeed, I know not of any Thing whereby I may be ensnared. Wherefore, bountiful Sir, unto you, as unto Heaven, I will open my whole Soul, without seeking to know why you look into the Concerns of such a Worm as I am.
I was the Daughter of a Farmer in Essex, my Maiden Name was
Elenor Damer.
I was married, early in Life, to a Man who kept a Chandler's Shop in a little Lane that led to
Tower-Hill,
his Name was
Barnaby Tirrell. Barnaby Tirrell?
exclaimed
John,
are you very sure that his Name was
Barnaby Tirrell?
Peace,
John,
I cried, whatever you may know of this Man, or of any other Matter, I command you not to interrupt the Woman till she has finished her Story.    She then continued.
I had neither Brother nor Sister, Sir, but one Brother, a Twin Brother, and we loved one another, as though there was no Body else in the World to be loved.
About three Years before my Marriage, my Brother
Tommy,
then a sweet pretty Lad, took to a seafaring Life, and went from me, I knew not where, upon a Voyage that I was told was a very great Way off, and so I cried, Day and Night, as many Tears after him as would have served me to swim in.
My Husband was very fond of me, and, when he used to see me cry, while I spoke of my
Tommy,
he would kiss me and try to comfort me, and say, that he wished for nothing more than his Return to
Old England,
that he might welcome him and love him as much as I did.
One Night, on the ninth Month of my Marriage, as I sat moping and alone, my Husband being abroad upon some Business, I heard a knocking at the Door, which was opened by our little Servant Girl. And then, before you could say this, in leaped my Brother, and caught me fast in his dear Arms.
I gave a great Shout for Joy, you may be sure; and pushing my
Tommy
from me, and pulling him to me again and again, we embraced, and cried, and kissed; and embraced and kissed again, as though we never could be tired.
In the mean while, the Door being open, my cruel
Barnaby
entered, unperceived by either of us; and seeing a strange Man so fond and familiar with me, he opened a long hasped Knife which he had in his Pocket, and rushing up, he gave my darling Brother three Stabs in the Body, before he could speak a Word or turn about to defend himself. Then, casting down the Knife, in a Minute he was out of the House, and I never saw him more.
For a Time, I stood like a Stone, and then giving a great Shriek, I fainted and fell on my Brother as he lay weltring in his Blood.
Our little
Mary,
in the while, being frightened almost to Death, ran about like a wild Thing, and alarmed the Street. Our Neighbours crowded in, and sent for the next Surgeon. My Brother's Wounds were probed and dressed, and he was laid in our spare Bed.
Mean time, being forward with Child, I fell into strong and untimely Labour, and after very grievous Travail, was delivered of a Boy, who was christened and called
James,
after my dear and lately deceased Father.
No Pains of my own, however, kept me from enquiring after that dear and lamented Brother who had been killed, as I supposed, for his Love to me. But his Youth and natural Strength carried him through all Dangers. In three Months he was up and about as well as ever. And, in less than three more, he set out on another Voyage, from whence he never, never, O never returned.
Before he went abroad, my dear and sweet Fellow had left me a Note of Hand for the Receipt of his Wages. But, in five Years after, I heard that he was cast away, or killed by the Barbary People; and, though I went and went again, in the middle of my Wants, and in the the middle of my Sorrows, to ask and to petition for his Pay from the Admiralty, I never could get an Answer of any Profit or any Comfort.
My little
Jemmy,
however, grew and throve and prated apace, and was my only Prop under all my Afflictions. My Husband, indeed, had left me in pretty Circumstances, and, had he but stayed with me, we should have prospered above our Fellows. But, what can a Woman do, single, weak, and unprotected? I was imposed upon by some; by others I was refused Payment for the Goods that I had given, and at length I was reduced to Poverty, and obliged to shut up Shop.
Mean time I had spared no Cost on the bringing up of my
Jemmy.
I had given him School Learning, and he now was grown a very towardly and clever Boy. And, having taken to Messages, my sweet Fellow, over Night, used to bring to me whatever he had earned in the Day Time.
In the Loss of my Husband and Brother; in the Loss of my
Barnaby,
and in the Loss of my
Tommy,
to be sure I had Grief upon Grief; so that my Health went from me, and next my Strength went from me, and I was not able to work at the washing Business as before. But this didn't signify much, while my Child had his Health; for he had now got a Porter's Place in the Custom-house, and, young as he was, he willingly carried heavy Burdens to have the Pleasure of bringing Home his hard Earnings to his Mammy. But, about six Weeks ago, may it please your Honour, my dear Boy fell ill of a Quartan Ague, as they call it, under which he, and his Mother's Heart still continue to Labour.
As soon as she had ended her short Narrative, well,
John,
said I, methinks this Business will do; in my Opinion you have got a very worthy Inheritor of your Fortune; what say you to it,
John?
First, Sir, let me ask her a Question or two, if you please. Honest Woman, draw your Chair a little nearer to me, I pray you. And now, tell me the Truth; did you ever Love your Husband? Yes, dearly, indeed, very dearly did I love him; for he had loved me very dearly, till that miserable Night. But when, as I thought, he had killed my Brother, I hated him as much as I had ever loved him before. But then again, when my
Tommy
had recovered of his Wounds, I sent far and near to enquire after him and find him out; and when I could learn no Tidings of him, I put it into all the printed Papers, that
Thomas Damer
was well recovered, and that
Barnabas Tirrel,
who had wounded him, might return, without Danger, to his Wife and Infant.
And he is returned, shouted
John,
he is returned, my
Nelly;
your barbarous and bloody Husband, who stabbed your Brother, and left you and your Infant to famish, he is returned to you, my
Nelly!
and, in his Death, he shall make you Amends for all the Sufferings which he brought upon you, during his Lifetime. But, my Master, my dearest Master, send immediately for my Child, my
Jemmy,
I beseech you, that, bad as I am myself, I may give him a Father's Blessing before I die!
I was surprised and affected, Madam, beyond Expression, by Incidents that were at once so wonderful and so tender; and I directly sent Servants and a Sedan-Chair for
James,
with Orders to have him carefully and warmly wrapt up; for, what his Mother told me of him had, already, given me a very strong Prejudice in his Favour.
Mean while, Mrs.
Tirrel
had sunk on her Knees by her Husband's Bed-side, and was plentifully pouring forth her Tears upon him; partly for Joy of having found him, and partly for Grief of having found him in that Condition.
O, my
Nelly,
my
Nelly,
cried
Barnabas,
had I known who the Person was whose Blood I drew that terrible Night, I would sooner have thrust my Knife into my own Heart, than into any Part of the Body of that dear Brother of yours. But I was old and ugly, you know; and you were young and handsome; and Jealousy is a mad Devil that rages in the Breast like Hell-fire; it never knew how to spare, but tears and consumes every thing that comes within its Reach.
At length
James
was brought to us, and, as we were in his Father's Apartment, a Chamber no way adorned,
James
entered without any Respect to Persons. He was a tall and comely Youth, but very pale and lean, and, as it was one of his well Days, he walked in without Help. He had barely been told that his Mother sent for him in a Hurry; so that he entered with a visible Alarm in his Countenance.
What is the Matter, my dear Mother? says he; alas, I am little able to help you at present. I hope nothing has happened that is suddenly distressful. Nothing amiss, my Child, more than that your dear Father, for whom I have sought and been sighing this many a Year, your Father lies dangerously ill in this very Bed, my
Jemmy.
Am I then so blessed, cried the Boy, as to see and embrace a Father? O my Child, exclaimed the old Man, and eagerly stretched his Arms toward him, come to my Bosom, thou only Offspring of my Bowels! I may now say, with blessed
Jacob,
let me die, let me die, since I have seen thy Face, and thou art alive, my Son!
I would at any Time give a thousand Pounds, my Cousin, for a Tenth of the Enjoyment that I then had, in the Feelings which God poured into the Hearts of this little Family, on their so very unexpected and marvellous a Meeting. It appeared to me, however, that young
James
even exceeded his Parents in Love; and this gave me such a cordial Attachment to him, that from that Hour to this we have never been sundered. He never failed nor forsook me; and, at this very Day, he is my respected Friend, and the Superintendant of my Family.
John,
otherwise
Barnabas,
continued to linger, for about a Fortnight longer, and then departed quite happy, and without a Groan. During the same Space also,
James
was daily attended by my own Physician, and was nearly reestablished in his Health.
Being then intent on my Departure, I sent for Mrs.
Tirrel.
Mrs.
Tirrel,
says I, I should be much inclined to take your
James
along with me, if I did not think you would grieve overmuch in his Absence. No, no, Sir, said she, I would to Heaven I were, myself, a young Man for your sake. I desire no better either of him or for him, than that he should live and die faithfully and lovingly in your Service.
The next Day I went down the
Thames
in a Barge, partly for Recreation, and partly to speak to the Captain of the Vessel in which I proposed to embark. As I drew near to the Custom-house Wharf, I observed a Wherry, crowded with Men whom she was about to land at the Stairs; and, on Enquiry, I was informed that they were Slaves, whom our Consul at
Algiers,
by his Intercession or Bounty, had ransomed and sent Home.
Immediately, Compassion rose powerfully in my Bosom. Alas, said I, to myself, I see that I am not without Companions in Affliction. I, indeed, have now, neither Wife nor Children; nor Father nor Mother; nor Brother, as I may say, nor Sister; nor any Connection with the World in which I live. I am shut out, as it were, from every Enjoyment upon Earth. Let me not however be envious; let me rather wish, and give, and dispense Enjoyment to others; since, to give Joy to others is all the Joy, in this World, that is left to myself.
Here, I ordered my People to land, and, coming up to the late Captives, My Friends, said I, you are welcome once more to
Old England!
I am fond of hearing Adventures; You, also, may have got your Appetites; and, if you will favour me with your Company, I will order a Dinner for us at yonder Tavern.
I need not tell you, Madam, that the Parties were soon agreed. While a plentiful Dinner was providing, I met Alderman
Bicker,
a City Magistrate and an old Acquaintance of mine. Sir
Thomas,
said I, I insist on your dining with me, to Day, at the
Phaenix
there. Perhaps your Companions will not appear to you of the most honourable Sort. They are, however, good Gospel Guests, Sir
Thomas,
and consist of the Halt, the Lame, the Maimed, and the Beggar. In short, I have invited all yonder ragged Regiment, being about five and thirty Slaves from
Barbary,
to Dinner; and, after I have filled their Bellies, I intend to give them a hundred Pounds,
per
Man, to help them to begin the World again, and to keep them from being an Incumbrance on their Country.
Five and thirty hundred Pounds! exclaimed Sir
Thomas Bicker,
five and thirty hundred times twenty Shillings of Sterling
English!
Its well for you,
Harry Clinton,
that old
Golding
was born before you; but nothing can hold you long at this Rate. To whom, again, do you propose to give this unmeasurable Bounty? to the Excrements of the Public, to Nuisances and Offences against Society; to Wretches whom
England
has spewed forth from a sick and debauched Stomach. But, I suppose you expect to purchase extraordinary Glories in Heaven, as the Reward of these very extraordinary Charities on Earth. No, indeed, Sir
Thomas,
said I, I shall never crave nor look for any Thing, at the Hands of the Son of
David,
save only Mercy from him, and Justification in him. However, my good Friend, if you will indulge me with your Company, you yourself shall be Judge of the Merit of the Parties, and I will wholly be guided by your Advice. Then, says he, do you saunter here a few Minutes; while, in order to open the Hearts of your Guests, I go and give them a Priming before Dinner.
As soon as Sir
Thomas
had executed his Purpose, he came forth, and, beckoning me to him, put his Mouth to my Ear. Don't be offended, says he, at some free Expressions that I may happen to let loose, in order to encourage these Fellows to the like Liberty, and show you what Mettal your Companions are made of.
Dinner was now served up on a Range of joined Tables, and Sir
Thomas,
with an easy and cheerful Familiarity, desired that they would seat themselves without Ceremony. This many of them did with a Freedom not far from Impudence, while others drew back abashed, and begged Permission to stand.
At the Head of the first Sort was seated a Fellow whose first Sight gave my Nerves a Thrill of Horror. His Countenance was of that Cast in which any one would place an implicit Confidence who wanted an Associate for any dark, traiterous, or bloody Purposes.
When the Cloth was removed, my Friend pushed the Bottles about very jovially, and began to talk as an utter Latitudinarian in Morals, whereby he gained the Confidence of every Rogue in Company.
As soon as most of them were well warmed, for some drank but sparingly, Sir
Thomas
took out his Purse, and, tossing a Guinea to each of them, Now, my brave Friends, says he, if you desire any more Favours, you must tell me openly and honestly the jolly Use you intend to make of your Money to Night. Why, Master, answered the ill looking Villain, as for me and my six Companions here, we have had a long Lent, and a Wench is the Word! That's gallantly spoken, cried out Sir
Thomas,
here are three Guineas more, apiece, for you Seven. And now, my brave Friends, I shall not be backward of another Bounty, if you will give me a short History of your Adventures.
That is soon done, my Master, answered the Spokesman. We seven were taken Prisoners by an
Algerine Corsair,
after an Engagement in which seven and twenty more of us lay in Blood upon Deck. We were sold to one
Pedro Paolo,
a
Renegade,
who, having been of all Religions in Christendom, had at length turned
Turk.
We were used very severely, and, after sweating all Day, were made to sweat Blood at Night with the Stripes which they gave us. However, we were hardy Dogs, and did not matter this very much; when one of their Priests came privately to us, and promised that, if we would forsake
Christ,
and turn to
Mahomet,
he would ensure us Liberty and Riches here, and Paradise hereafter. These, Sir, as you well know, were very tempting Things. But, as soon as our Master understood that we had complied with the Terms; he hurried us, by Night, into one of his Gallies, where we were chained to the Oar, our Ears were lopped as you see, and, at every Meal of Bread and Water, we received ten Lashes. At length his Honour, the Ambassador, I forget how they call him, found us out and redeemed us, and so you see us here.
Pray, my Friend, said Sir
Thomas,
are there any more in this Company whom you could recommend to me, as being of the same Gallantry of Spirit with yourself? Yes, said he, there are the two
Johns,
and the two
Andrews
yonder, who are none of the Saint
Johns
or Saint
Andrews,
I promise you. But yonder sits our Saint
Thomas,
a canting Son of a Bitch; he wanted, truly, to preach to us, during our Voyage; and, in the last Storm, he would have persuaded us, forsooth, to join with him in Prayer. Here then, cried Sir
Thomas,
you two no Saint
Johns,
and you two no Saint
Andrews,
here are three Pieces a Man for you also; and that Money, I hope, Gentlemen, will be sufficient to maintain you in Gaol, till we can hear a better Account of you. Ho, Drawer! are the People I sent for in Waiting? They are, please your Honour. Desire them to step in.
Here entered a Serjeant at Mace with a great Posse of Constables. Serjeant, said Sir
Thomas,
take these seven and these four into your Custody, and keep them in close Durance till you hear further from me; I would rather open the Tower Cages, and let all the wild Beasts abroad through the Streets, than loose such Reprobates as these among Mankind.
At this Instant, as a Constable was laying hold on our gallant Spokesman, he suddenly drew an Instrument that was half Knife and half Dagger, and leaping across me, he caught Sir
Thomas
by the Throat, and raising his Arm, would have plunged the Steel into his Bosom; but, at the same Moment, I seized his Hand, and throwing up his Heels, I cast him on his Back, and wrenched the Weapon from him.
As soon as we were thus rid of eleven of our Guests, a young Man came earnestly up to us: Gentlemen, says he, till those seven Hell-hounds were secured, I did not dare to open my Mouth. I know them all right well, and, had they known me, there is not one of them but would have thrust his Knife into my Heart.
About eleven Years ago, I was taken as cabin Boy, when they, with many more, were taken as Sailors on Board the good Ship
Saint Catharine,
Mr.
William Tomson,
Master, bound for the
West Indies.
As soon as we came along side the
Canaries,
this big Villain,
Patrick Mc. Douel,
prevailed on most of the Crew to enter into a Conspiracy, whereupon they barbarously and sportingly murdered the Master, the Officers, and all who were not of their own Gang, except myself, being then about ten Years of Age. But they did not prosper long, for, the very next Morning, we were held in Chase, and then they wished for the Help of those Hands whom they had cut off. So, as
Mc. Douel
told you, after a very bloody Battle, we were boarded and taken, and those seven Confederates were sold to one Master; and, well as it happened for me, I was sold to another; and all this and more, I am ready to witness in any Court, provided I am kept safe from the Clutches of those Devils.
Ay, exclaimed Sir
Thomas,
these are your Charities, Mr.
Clinton;
and such the Objects of whom your judgement has made Choice. Ah, my Friend, I replied, that Charity must be very tardy, which waits to be assured of the Merit of its Object.
Christ
himself cured ten Lepers, while he knew that nine of them were unworthy of his Graciousness.
On the Entrance of the Constables, I had cast my Eye round the Room, and remarked that most of our Mess-mates seemed much alarmed, and turned pale on the Caption of their late Comrades, which rendered their Characters, also, somewhat suspected to me. Wherefore, lest I should cast my Seed on a wholly barren Soil, I wished to get some further Intelligence concerning them. Where, said I, is the Person whom they call Saint
Thomas?
I desire a few Words with him.
Here a Man approached, respectfully, from the farther End of the Table, to which, through Modesty, he had retreated with his few Companions. Mr.
Thomas,
said I, looking earnestly at him, have I not seen your Face before? No, please your Honour, I think that must be impossible. It is now upon eighteen Years since I set a Foot in this Kingdom, and your Honour, must then have been but as a Child. Do you know any Thing, Mr.
Thomas,
of these People or their Affairs? Nothing of their Affairs, Sir, and little more of their Persons, than that they are, all, Men of very profane Lips; except the Lad who spoke to you last, and my five Mess-mates yonder, the only People who, during our long and dangerous Voyage, would return Thanks to God for any of his Mercies, or pray him to avert his just Judgments from them.
Then, said I, we will proceed between Extremes. On the one Side, we will not minister Fewel to the Lusts of these unhappy Creatures: neither will we leave them to perish; or tempt them, through Want, to Robbery, on the other Side. Here, Landlady, take this Bill. Give twenty Pounds to each of these seventeen Fellows, and, if any of them, within a Month, shall bring you a Certificate of his good Behaviour, give him twenty Pounds more. Now, Sir
Thomas,
I may hope, that I do not exceed your good Pleasure. Not much,
Harry,
not much, in Time you may be tractable.
Here the poor Wretches looked amazed, and scarce crediting the Reality of the Bounty that was ordered for them, they cried, thank your Honours, thank your Honours! and withdrew. One of them, however, seemed to linger after the rest, and, going out last, he returned again quickly, and threw himself at my Feet. I am a Reprobate, Sir, a mere Reprobate, he cried, and am not worthy of your Charity. Does your Conscience condemn you then, said I? It does, Sir, it does. Then I condemn you not; rise, rise, and give me your Hand, my Brother!
Mr.
Clinton,
said Sir
Thomas,
now that I have kept you from casting so much Money on the Quicksands, you can afford to be the more generous to these worthy Fellows. You will allow me then, said I, to order our Landlady to pay them a hundred Pounds apiece. With all my Heart, says he, and if you will be so honest as to reimburse me the sixty or seventy Pieces, which I threw away, for your Use, upon the other Villains, I will add something to that, also, and divide it among them.
Then, Sir
Thomas,
if you will indulge me with your Company for an Hour or two longer, let us send for an Undertaker to put our Friends here in decent Apparel; while we listen to what they shall be pleased to tell us of their Fortunes. Agreed,
Harry,
agreed. So, let us resume our Seats, and have the other Bottle.
Mister
Thomas,
said I, pray what may be your Sirname?
Damer,
Sir.
Damer, Damer!
have you any Relations in this Kingdom? Alas, Sir, I fear not; my Father,
Christopher Damer
of
Essex,
died a little before I set out on my last Voyage. And had you no Relation beside? O, Sir, that is it, which brought the Tears so suddenly into my Eyes! I had a Sister, an only Sister, a Sister that I loved dearer than Health or Safety. But --I fear --I fear --here his Speech was stopped by his Emotion; while I was ready to leap up and catch him in my Arms; but I suppressed my Inclinations, for the present, that I might heighten the Surprise and Pleasure which I foresaw there would be at the Meeting of the Twins.
While all Materials were providing, from the several Ware Houses, for the Cloathing and Accommodation of our Guests; they, successively, gave us an Abstract of their respective Lives and Histories, wherein were many Incidents extremely interesting and entertaining. Let us have them, let us have them, by all Means! cried Lady
Maitland.
My dear Madam, said Mr.
Clinton,
were I to relate to you the several affecting Stories that occurred to me, throughout my Travels, from Prisons, from the Depth of Dungeons; from Captives, and from Persons redeemed from Captivity; from Wretches wrecked at Sea, or wrecked by Fortune; from those who survived the Calamities of Warfare and Famine, I should never make an End.
But then, said the Countess, the poor Creature who felt so sudden and affecting a Compunction; I have a Friendship for that Fellow, and I am deeply interested in all the Concerns of my Friend, I must tell you. Well, Madam, you shall have his Story, then, as nearly as I can recollect at this Distance of Time.
CHAP. XVI. The HISTORY of a REPROBATE.
I Know not, Gentlemen, said he, who my Parents were. I was found, when an Infant, wrapped in Rags on a Cobler's Bulk, in
Westminster.
The Wardens sent me to the Parish Nursery for Foundlings; and, when I was capable of Instruction, they sent me to the Charity-School.
When I had learned to read and write, I was bound, a Servant Apprentice, to Mr.
Skinner,
a neighbouring Attorney. My Mistress grew fond of me; she was a very holy Woman; she taught me my Prayers and Catechise, and made me read to her every Night, and repeat Chapters and Psalms, till I had nearly got Half the Bible by rote.
As my Master used to send me on many Errands and Messages, and to entrust me with little Matters of Money on such Occasions, on finding me always punctual and honest to him, he began to love me almost as much as my good Mistress did.
But now came on my first falling away from all Goodness. I was about twelve Years old, when, in a cursed Hour, my Master sent me to a distant Part of the Town, with a Bill to pay some Money, and to bring him back the Change. The Change amounted to about four Pounds in glittering Silver. It appeared a Mint of Money. I had never been in Possession of so large a Heap; and I sighed, and said to myself, how blessed must they be who are become the rich Owners of so much Money. Then, some one seemed to whisper me that I was the Owner; and again some one seemed to whisper me that I was not the Owner. Then, I would go forward toward my Master; and again I would stop and go aside. Then, I would thrust my Hand into my Pocket, and feel the Greatness of my Treasure, then turn to the Wall, and lay the Brightness of it before my Eyes. Then I would run a Piece off, as hurried away by the Force of the Temptation; and again, I would delay, and stop, and turn, and strive to force myself homeward. Till, what with doubting and delaying, and struggling off and on, and going backward and forward, I considered that, if I went home, I should now get nothing but Blame and Beating, and so I took a head, and ran into the Country as fast as my Feet could carry me.
As I ran myself out of Breath, from time to time, I would look back and look back, and run on and run on, in the Thought that my Master, or some one from him, was at my Heels. But, often since, I have reflected and was persuaded in my Mind, that my kind Master and Mistress had not the least Suspicion of me, but rather enquired and sorrowed after me, as being murdered or kidnapped from them, and this also was, at times, a great Grief of Heart to me.
When I was quite tired and jaded, and Night came on, I turned up to a Carrier's Inn, where was written
dry Lodgings
over the Door. But, as I feared every thing, I had the Cunning to conceal my Treasure, and taking a Penny from my Pocket, I begged the Woman of the House, for that and Charity's Sake, to give me a little Bread and Milk, and some Hole to lie in.
Having finished my Supper, I was shown to a kind of Hovel that lay under the Stairs, where, throwing myself on some Straw, with a Piece of a Blanket over me, I fell fast as a Rock. Awakening, however, about Midnight, or somewhat after, and seeing all dark about me, and no Creature near Hand; I began to tremble greatly; and then I wished to say my Prayers, but I did not dare to pray; and so I lay sweating and trembling, and trembling and sweating, till the Dawning of the Day brought some Relief to my Spirits.
Having breakfasted at the Cost of a second Penny, I set out, though not with my former Speed; for, reflecting that I had not my Livery on, but a small Frock Coat, I was under the less Fear of being known. However, I pushed on as well as I was able, wanting still to get as far from Danger as possible. And, indeed, I hoped, by going on still further and further, to get away from my own Fears and from my own Conscience.
O Gentlemen, what Misery did I not endure, at that Season! the Trust I had in my Treasure began now to abate, the Dread of losing it also brought new Troubles upon me; Peace was banished from within me; and without, there was no Place whereto I might fly for Rest.
On the fifth Morning of my Travels, having expended what Halfpence and small Silver I had; I took out Half a Crown, and offered it to the Man of the House, desiring him to return what was over the Reckoning. As he took it, he gave me a Look that I thought went through me, and continuing to stare me in the Face, he shamed me so, that I was constrained to turn aside. He gave me the Change, however, and I set forward on my Journey, all trembling and apprehending I knew not what.
I had not gone above a Mile, when, meeting a dirty Road, I turned over a Stile that led to a Path through the Fields. Here I walked on a Piece, when, turning, I saw my Landlord making long Strides after me, whereupon my Heart beat, and my Knees grew so weak under me that I stood as still as a Stone.
He came quickly up with me, and, seizing me by the Neck, he cast me on my Back. Ha! you young Rogue, says he, let us see what Money you have got. Then, diving into my Pockets, he pulled out the whole Stock in which I trusted for Happiness. O, you little Dog of a Villain, from whom have you stollen all this Treasure? but, I must go and return it to the right Owner. O, good Sir, good Sir, I roared out, will you not leave me a little? ever so little, dear Sir, to keep me from starving? but he was deaf to my Cries and Prayers, and away he went.
Hope, the last Comfort of the Miserable, now forsook me. I cursed, at my Heart, the Day in which I was born; and I lay a long Time, as one who had no Use for Limbs, nor any further Way to travel upon Earth. At length I broke into Shouts and a great Gush of Tears; and having got some Ease by venting my Sorrows, I rose, by a Kind of Instinct, and went on I knew not whither.
Growing hungry after Noon, I would willingly have begged the Charity of Passengers, but this I did not dare to do, for fear they should ask me whence I came, and who I was, and whereto I was going, Questions to which I could give no very honest Answer. So, I bore my Hunger as well as I could, till coming over Night to a Hovel where a Farmer kept his Pigs, I made way for myself among them, and slept in the Straw till Morning.
The Day following, as I passed slowly and half famished through a small Village, my Eye caught at a Penny Loaf that lay on a little Shop Window which jutted into the Street. I looked here and there, and peered into the Shop, and was just going to seize the ready and tempting Spoil; when something whispered, at my Heart, don't touch it for your Life, starve, starve, rather than offer to steal any more, and so I tore myself away, and, running as fast as I could, for fear of turning back, I at last got clear off from the Reach of this Temptation.
When I had travelled something further, I got into an enclosed Country, where there were Hedges on every Side, with Plenty of Haws and Bramble Berries on every Bush. And here I filled my Belly with Berries to serve me for Dinner; and I stuffed my Pockets with Haws against I should want. Upon this I grew wonderful glad that I had not taken the Loaf; and Peace again began to come upon my Mind; and, about Night-fall, having reached a Copse on one Side of the Road, I crept, like a Hare, under the Shelter of the Bushes; I then supped upon my Haws, after which I kneeled down and half ventured at a Prayer to God; and gathering up in my Form, I slept happily till Morning.
Having lived thus for some Days, I came into an open Country, where there was scarce any Path, nor any Haw or Berry within many a Mile. I now began to grow sick and faint with Hunger; and again my Sickness went off, and I became so greedy and ravenous that I was ready to eat my own Flesh from the Bones. Soon after, I spied, at a Distance, a confused Heap of something at the Root of a great Tree that grew in the open Fields. I made up to it in Expectation of I knew not what, and found an old Beggarman fast asleep in his patched Cloak, with a Bundle of somewhat lying beside him.
Instantly I opened his little Baggage, when, to my inexpressible Transport, a large Luncheon of brown Bread, with some Half-pence, struck my Eyes. I did not hesitate a Moment about seizing the Bread, for I could no more withstand the Cravings of my Appetite, at the time, than I could withstand a Torrent rushing down a Hill. Having appeased my Stomach, I began to demur about what I should do with the Remainder of the Bread, and felt a Motion or two inclining me to leave it behind me. But, no, said I to myself, this is all the Bread that I have, or may ever have during Life, and I know not where to get a Bit in the whole World; beside, I do this Man no Harm in taking it away, since I leave him Money enough wherewith to buy more. So I put the Bread in my Pocket, and went on my Way, leaving behind me about four or five Pence in the Wrapper.
I had not gone far, however, before I said to myself again, this Man is a Beggar by Trade, and gets Halfpence from every Passenger that goes the Road. But alas, no one living has any Pity upon me, and so, to starve alive, or take the Money, is all the Question. So saying or so thinking, I went back on Tiptoes, and stooping and seizing my Prey, I flew away like Lightening.
As soon as I had got out of the Reach and Sight of the poor Man, the first Motion I felt was the Joy of having such a Prize; but I had not gone far till this Joy was much abated, my Sighs began to heave, and my Tears to flow apace.
That Night, I took up my Lodging in a little waste Cabin that lay a Piece off the Road. But though, as I thought, I had Plenty of Bread, and Money enough about me, yet I found myself exceeding heavy, and I was not able to pray, as I did the foregoing Nights.
During all this time, I neither knew where I was, nor whereto I was going, nor any thing more of my Travels than that I came from
London.
When I had spent to my last Penny, and was walking, slow and melancholy, on a By-path that led through some woody Lawns, I heard the Voice of Merriment, and, quickly after, perceived a Group of Gipsies that came from behind some Trees.
As I saw that I could not escape them, I gathered Courage and went forward, when coming up, they stopped and eyed me with much Attention, and made a Ring about me. Where are you going, my Child, says a Man with a broad Girdle and a very formidable Beard? Indeed, Sir, said I, I cannot tell. And where did you come from then? From
London,
Sir, so please you. From
London,
Child? why that is a very great Way off. And pray what made you leave
London?
To get away from my Master. But, I hope you did not come away empty, you brought something from him, didn't you? Some little Matter, good Sir, but I was robbed of it on the Way. Hereupon, this venerable Regent smiled, and turning to his Dependents, as far as I see, said he, this Chap will answer our Purposes to a Hair.
Here, one of the Females asked if I was hungry, and, on my Answer in the affirmative, they all invited me with a jovial Air to Dinner. We then turned a Distance off from the Path wherein we had met, and gradually descended into one of the pleasantest Spots in the World. It was a Dell surrounded with Hills, some of which were slanting, some headlong and impending, and all covered or spotted with Groups of Trees, of different Heights, Sorts, and Colours; through which there descended a gurgling Rivulet, which, having rolled over Stones and Pebbles, grew silent in a small Lake, that reflected the circling Objects from the Vale below.
Immediately, Nature's Carpet was covered with a large Cloth of fine damasked Linen. The Baggage was taken from the Shoulders of the Bearers; and, before I could take note of what they were about, there was spread, as by Art magic, before my Eyes, the most various and sumptuous Banquet I had ever beheld. Down, instantly, sunk the Guests; some sitting, like the
Turks,
crosslegg'd; while others lolled, like the
Romans,
along side of each other.
As they had travelled far that Day, they all eat in Silence; and, in a short Space, the Burden of the Luggage-carriers was pretty much lightened. In the mean time, some arose, and unladed two Asses of the Creels which they carried. The Cloth then was quickly emptied of the cold Fowls and baked Meats, with the Loins of Beef and Mutton; and leathern Jacks, that contained Plenty of the best Wines and other Liquors, were set before us. These, again, were decanted into clean japanned Pitchers; and a japanned Cup, of equal Measure, was given into every Hand.
Then began Mirth and Jollity to flow round with the Cups; never did I see so pleasant, so gleeful a Company. Joke and Banter, without Offence, were bandied from every Side; and Bursts of Laughter were echoed from the answering Hills.
As soon as I was warmed and my Heart opened by what I drank, they all expressed a Liking and Kindness for me, and requested that I would tell them my Story, without Disguise. Accordingly, I made an ingenuous Confession of all the Matters related. But, instead of meeting those Reproofs which I expected for my Wickedness, they jointly began to ridicule my Scruples, and put to shame the little Shame that I had of my evil Deeds.
My Child, said their ancient Governor, when you have been a sufficient time with us, you will then learn what it is to be wise and to be happy. You will then know that Religion is nothing but Hypocrisy or Fashion. There are Thousands and ten Thousands of Religions upon Earth, all contrary, and fighting the one against the other. People pretend to fear God, when it is the Fear of the Laws, alone, that is before their Eyes. God is not to be feared but to be loved, my Son, for he is a very gracious and a bountiful God: He gave the Heavens, in common, to the Birds of the Air. He gave the Seas and Rivers, also, in common to the Fishes.
And he gave this whole Earth in common to Mankind. But, great People and People of Power have seized it all to themselves, and they have made to themselves Possessions and Properties by Fences and Enclosures; and they have again enclosed those Enclosures by Laws of their own making, whereby the Poor are to be punished when they attempt to reclaim any Part of the natural Rights with which God had gifted them. But, when the Poor, without Fear of the Laws, can gain any thing from the Rich and the Mighty who have robbed them of their Rights, they may surely do it with a safe and an honest Conscience. And now, know, my Child, that you are come among those who, of all People can best defend you and make you happy. We are of that Sort of the Poor who are above the Rich and the Mighty, by being above the Laws; for they can frame no Laws which are of any more Force to us than the Web of a Spider.
So spoke this formidable Sage; and indeed, Gentlemen, however strange it may seem, I saw the latter Part of his Assertion fully verified by Practice. I continued among this very singular and wonderful People, near the Space of three Years; during which time they initiated me into all the Arts and Mysteries of their manifold Iniquities. No Fetters could hold them; no Prisons could contain them; no Bolts or Locks could secure the Treasures of the Wealthy from them. By the means of Spells or certain Odours, as it were by Enchantment, all Beasts became subject to them; the wildest Horse would stand for them; the fiercest Mastiffs did not dare to bay or growl at them; so that all Bleachgreens, Yards, and Gardens were as open to their Invasion as the Highway. They assumed all Sorts of Shapes, and almost all Sorts of Sizes. They became visible and invisible, known or unknown at Pleasure; for every different Dress they had a different Countenance and Set of Features; so that their daily Intimates could not know them, except by appointed Words or Tokens. And thus, without Violence or apparent Fraud, without Bustle, Indictment, or Accusation on any Side, they over-ruled the Government, and held, as it were, the Purses of the whole Nation in their Hands.
You will wonder, Gentlemen, by what Policy these People could maintain their Influence and Depredations, undetected, throughout the Kingdom. I will account for this Matter as clearly and as briefly as I can.
Though they never appeared, by Day, except single or in small Parties of ten or fifteen at most, yet they kept their State entire, by quick and constant Intelligence. Beside, their Prince or principal Potentate, who was the Person that first accosted me, they had a deputy Governor for every Shire; and, in every Parish, they had a House of common Use and common Resort to the Fraternity. Here their Victuals were dressed and their Provisions laid in; and here also were deposited the Spoils of the Public, which, when converted into Money, was locked in a strong Box, one tenth for the use of the Society on any Emergence, and the other nine for the Benefit of the Spoilers, in Proportion to their respective Ranks and Merits.
Before we rose from our late mentioned Festival, an ancient female Fortune-teller chucked me under the Chin and said, do you know, my Dear, where this same kind Landlord lives who robbed you of your Money? All I know, said I, is that he lives in a little Town at the Sign of a white Cross, and near to a great Windmill. What, cried one of the Men, my old Host
Jerry Gruff?
he hates that any, except himself, should prosper by their Ingenuity. I owe that Fellow a Fling, cried another, for once attempting to circumvent me in his own House. Well, my Lad, says
Geoffry,
the old Governor, his House lies directly in the Way of our Circuit, and, for your Encouragement, I promise you that he shall refund you every Penny of the Money he took from you.
The Luggage being now up, we set back on the Field Path by which I came; and, coming to a great Road, we divided into small Parties, who were appointed to meet at the Parish-house, where we supped merrily and slept soundly for that Night.
We set out, the next Morning, by Dawn of Day, and entering soon after upon a Common, we saw a Parcel of Horses feeding without a Keeper. Immediately, three of the likeliest were taken from the rest. Out came Scissars and other Implements, with Phials of colouring Essences, and to work went many Hands, when, in less than five Minutes, had the Owners come up, they could not have found a single Mark of their own Property upon them. And, indeed, I have frequently known some of those, my ingenious Brotherhood, so very audacious as to sell, in public Marker, the Cattle, which they had stolen, to the very Persons from whom they were taken.
As these People were never unprovided of their Conveniences, the Horses were quickly bridled and dispatched, by several Emissaries, several Ways, to summon the neighbouring Brotherhood, on the third Night, to meet near the white Cross with their appointed Apparatus.
Accordingly, on the Evening of the Night required, we arrived on a little Hill that stood opposite to the House of my conscientious Landlord; and, soon after, we were joined by several Parties, from several Sides, amounting to about a hundred and twenty Persons, with Parcels of I knew not what upon Asses,
&c.
The Packs were quickly opened, and from thence were produced black and flame coloured Gowns, Flambeaux, Hoofs, and Horns, and Vizards of horrid Aspect and terrific Dimension. In a Hurry, we were all fitted with our respective Dresses and Characters. A large pasteboard Coffin was covered with a white Sheet, and exalted upon the Shoulders of four fiery Devils; and, as Night began to fall dark and heavy upon us, a Light was struck, the Flams were lighted, one was put into every right Hand; speaking Trumpets, with other Instruments of heart-sinking Sounds, were put to many a Mouth, and we directly set out on our diabolical Procession. Some roared like Bulls, others houled and bayed like Dogs at a midnight Moon, while others yelled articulately in the catterwawling Gibberish; in short, the Sounds made such a Complication of Horrors as no mortal Ears could abide, nor mortal Courage support.
Mean while the Town took the Alarm and began to be in Commotion. Old and young quitted their Houses, and hurried hither and thither through the Street. But, as we advanced, they made backward, and running, or climbing, or scrambling up Hill, they gathered all in a Body before the Windmill. In the Interim, we pushed forward, and entered the Inn, where neither Cat nor Dog, nor living Creature was left, save Goodman
Gruff,
who lay impotent, of the Gout, in an upper Chamber.
While most of the Company staid, routing and searching the House below, Signior
Geoffry
led a few of usâª up Stairs. He represented the Person of
Lucifer,
whose Name was impressed in flaming Characters on his Cap. On entering the Room where Landlord
Gruff
lay, Hark ye,
Jerry,
says
Lucifer,
you sneaking Thief, you mean petty-larceny Villain! how came you to rob a Child, the other Day, of the Money which he gained under my Influence and Encouragement? I have a mind, you Scoundrel, to strike you out of my List of Innkeepers. O, my good Lord
Lucifer,
cries
Gruff,
with a trembling Voice, in my Conscience, now, I did not think that any kind of Robbery would be an Offence to your Honour. You lie, you Rascal, you lie, cries
Lucifer,
the Devil is a Gentleman, he loves those who rob the Great, who have robbed the Little; but he hates your low spirited Scoundrels, who rob the Widow, and the Fatherless, and take from the little Ones the little that they have. Why, pray, my Lord
Lucifer,
are you a Christian, cries
Gruff?
A better one, Rascal, than you or any of your Tribe; for, though I tremble, yet I believe. And I tell thee,
Jerry,
that I will make this Generation to tremble; but, as I think, the Devil himself cannot bring them to believe.
During this Confabulation, the whole House, Drawers and all, was gutted as clean as a Fowl for Supper. So, without entering into any other Habitation, away we marched as in our former tremendous Procession; till, coming to some standing Water, we halted, and, at a given Word, we altogether plunged our Torches in the Pool, and instant Night fell upon all the World.
Thus, from Day to Day, and Year to Year, while I continued with this People, I was witness to a Variety of Slights, Deceits, Impostures, Metamorphoses, and Depredations, without any Instance of their being brought to condign Punishment. One of them, however, within my Time, was detected, taken, imprisoned, brought to the Bar, tried, and brought in guilty; and yet found Means to evade Justice by the most marvellous Piece of Stratagem that ever was.
He was spied in the Act of stealing a bay Horse. Fresh Suit was made. He was seized and loaded with Irons in the Dungeon of the County Gaol. On the Day of Trial the Fact was proved by incontestable Witnesses; and the Jury, without quitting the Box, pronounced the fatal Word,
Guilty.
Have you any thing to say, cried the Judge, why Sentence of Death should not be pronounced against you? I can truly affirm, exclaimed the Culprit, that I am as clear as the Light, of this Matter; that the Beast which I took, then was, and, to this Hour, is my own Property; and that there must be some wonderful Mistake in this Business; wherefore, my Lord, as I am upon Life and Death, I trust that your charitable Indulgence will order this same Horse to be brought into Court. The Horse accordingly was brought, and the Culprit continued, Now, my Lord, be pleased to order the Witnesses to say whether this be the same Horse that I stole or not? The same, the same, cried the Witnesses, by Virtue of our Oaths. Be so good then, my Lord, to ask them of what Age this Horse was, at the Time that I stole him? By Virtue of the same Oath, four Years old rising five. Now, my Lord, if you will continue your gracious Indulgence, be pleased to order his Mouth to be examined by some People skilled in such Matters. This also was done by two or three Jockeys, of acknowledged judgement, who instantly cried out, why, my Lord, this Horse is quite passed Mark of Mouth.
Hereupon, every Person that was present looked astonished, and Silence was in Court for some Minutes; till the Culprit resumed. There is but one Request more with which I shall trouble your Lordship; it is, that you would be pleased to send and examine whether this same Horse be a Horse or a Mare. This lastly was done, when the Examiners cried out, a Mare, my Lord, a Mare, without any Question!
Here, the Surprise and Amazement of the Court was redoubled. The Jury looked down abashed; the Witnesses slunk away in utter Shame and Confusion; and his Lordship instantly ordered that the Prisoner should be dismissed without Fees, and that the Mare should be restored to him as his proper Goods.
Now, the whole Mystery of the Affair was merely this, that some of the Fraternity, the very Night before the Trial, had picked the Lock of the Stable, and, in the Place of the Horse, had substituted this Mare, whom they found or formed to so perfect a Resemblance of him, that no Eye could discern the smallest Distinction.
During my Sojourn with these Wretches, may it please your Honours, I found by dear Experience, that, between the Birth and the Grave, there are but two Sorts of Happiness, of which Man is capable. The one is, that of a
Conscience void of giving Offence;
the other is, that of a
Conscience that cannot be offended.
I was therefore perpetually miserable, because neither the one nor the other was my State; for, on the one Hand, I was conscious that I gave daily Offence to God and Man; and, on the other Hand, my Conscience was daily offended thereby. I was merry, indeed, though not happy, when in Company, but ever dejected when left alone; so that during my three Years Incorporation with this Fraternity, I never once lifted my Heart in any Appeal to God, nor ventured to petition for any Kind of Favour from him.
Though these Reprobates, as I have intimated, continued to perpetrate, and to glory, with a merry and satisfied Conscience, in their daily Iniquities; yet, hitherto, they had not proceeded to Blood.
On the Night, wherein I left them, we we were overtaken, and cut short of our intended Rest, by a sudden and violent Tempest of Wind and Hail, whereupon we took Shelter in a waste Barn that had belonged to the late Farmer of the Place.
When we had struck on our Tinder and lighted a Candle, we set together what Straw and Combustibles we could find in the House, and had just kindled a Fire, when one of the Company came and whispered that there was a Man asleep in the far Corner. Hereupon, they took the Candle, and, with softly and cautious Steps, found a Pedlar stretched along, with his Head on a Wisp of Straw, and his Box close beside him. They immediately lifted the Box, and brought it away, in Silence, to the Place where I was sitting. On opening it, with as little Noise as possible, they found therein a large Quantity of Silks, Linens, and Laces, with a rich Variety of hard Wares; and, at the Bottom, a little padlocked Chest, full of
English
and
Spanish
Pieces of Gold; in all Likelihood the whole Amount of the Labours of his Life.
This was a Prize not to be thrown down the Stream. Immediately all was in a kind of underbreathing Bustle, and whispering Commotion. The great Question was, how to possess themselves of such a Prey, with Safety to their Persons. It was objected that the Man might waken; they were unluckily seen coming that way, and, it may be, entering into that House; the Country might be alarmed and rise upon them; they might be overtaken; they might be seized in the very Fact.
At length, a bold Villain proposed directly to cut his Throat, and that, then, there could be no witness to testify against them; but to this it was again objected, that the Blood itself would be the fearfullest and surest of all Witnesses. Whereupon, another proposed to suffocate or strangle him and bury his Corps on the Spot; to which Scheme, though many were silent, yet no one expressly excepted.
During this deadly Consultation, notwithstanding my long Course of evil Habit, and evil Example, my Blood curdled throughout my Body, and Fear, Horror, and Detestation arose in my Bosom. But, when they went, as I supposed, to put the deed of Death into instant Execution, I crouched and shrunk inward; and creeping out at the Door, the Dread of being, also, seized and murdered, gave me Strength to get on my Feet, and, feeling along by the Wall, I got away from the House, and made off I neither knew nor cared where or whereto.
The Tempest still continued; the driving of the Clouds added to the natural Horrors of Night; I could scarcely discern that I had a Road under my Foot. But, though I could not see my Pursuers, I yet feared that their Eyes were better than mine; and I still turned and listened, to try if the Foot of the Murderer was behind me.
Having travelled all Night as fast and far as I could from the Scene of my Terrors; on the Rising of the Day I saw a large Town before me, and, for the first time of three Years, I lifted up my Eyes, and inwardly blessed God for his Mercy in my Escape from so great a Wickedness. Thereupon I felt a Pleasure that I had never felt before; and I said in my Heart, if you will once more be my God, I will be your true Servant, and will never offend or transgress any more.
I then walked on leisurely, and my Fatigue went from me, and I seemed quite lightsome to myself. On entering the Suburbs I met a Gentleman taking his Morning's Walk out of Town. I stopped and looked him wistfully in the Face, whereupon he also stopped and eyed me with much Attention. Who are you, my pretty Lad? says he. An unhappy Stranger, Sir, who wants a Service, or any Means of earning a little honest Bread. And pray what Service can you do? Not much, Sir, I fear, but my Good-will shall strive hard to make up my Lack of Ability. Then, cried he, you shall be my Servant. All the Servants I ever had promised every thing, but did little; I will now try what may be done by one who promises nothing. What is your Name, my Boy?
David Doubtful,
Sir; for that was my true Name, though I had gone by several others. And what Wages must I give you,
David?
Just as much, Sir, or as little as you shall please to think I deserve.
Here he took me to a handsome House, where he kept a Mercer's Shop in
Plymouth.
His Name was
Felton;
he had been a Widower, of some Years; and had an only Son who was then at
Westminster
School in
London.
My Master, at first, set me to the most servile and vile Offices, such as cleaning his and the Servants Shoes; sweeping the Street before his Door, and carrying out the Dirt of the House; but all this I did with Willingness, and even with Pleasure, as some little Matter of Penance for my long Course of evil Deeds.
On my separating from my Brethren in Iniquity, as I have told you, I was the Proprietor of one hundred and seventy odd Pounds, which was locked up in the Parish Chest, being my allotted Dividend of the Fruits of our common Knavery, for three successive Years; but, in my present Turn of Mind, I would no more have accepted any Part thereof, than I would have taken a Bar of red hot Iron into my Hand. I had also, in my Pocket a few Crowns with some smaller Silver, but these I secretly distributed among the Poor, that no Part, as it were, of
Achan
's accursed Thing might remain about me.
In about three Weeks, my Master again changed the whole Manner of my Service, and set me to brush his Clothes, dress his Wigs, whet the Knives, lay the Cloth, and attend at Table; but these were Matters in which I was quite expert, as I had not yet forgotten my Employment with my first Master.
In some Time after, Mr.
Felton
asked me if I could read; a little in the Bible, Sir, said I. And, can you write too,
David?
If you please I will try, Sir. Why,
David!
this beats the Hand of my Clerk; where in the World did you come by all this Learning? From a very good Master to a very bad Servant; but, pray Sir, do not enquire the Particulars of my Naughtiness; for, indeed, you could not desire a severer Monitor than my own Conscience is to me. Well, my Child, said the good Man, I will not put you to Pain; and so, giving me a Squeeze by the Hand, he went out with a glistening Eye.
From this Time my Master showed an uncommon Respect and Attention to me. He discharged me from all the menial Offices of his Household; he gave me his Burdens of Silks, and other Wares to carry to his several Customers; and he desired me to take particular Notice of the Nature and Values of what I carried.
On this Encouragement I became vastly more apprehensive and assiduous than he looked for. I attended the Shop closely, and took Notice and private Notes of all that was estimated or transacted therein. My Master looked quite amazed, on asking me some Questions with respect to his Affairs. His eldest Prentice, soon after, set up for himself. He then placed me behind the Counter, over his younger Apprentice, and in joint Authority with his Journeyman. And, soon after, he gave me the Key of his Till, and the Trust of all his. Treasure. I now dined with him at the same Table, and consulted and conversed with him as his Friend and Companion. He gave me frequent Pocketmoney, which, he told me, he would not charge to the Account of my Wages. I walked with him every Evening, went to Church with him every Sunday, and read to him, in the Bible, every Night. I was now wholly reconciled to my God, and felt him in my Soul as a Friend and Benefactor. Pleasure played about my Heart, Peace lay under my Pillow; and my Happiness seemed as a Ship that, after a long and desperate Voyage, had anchored in a calm and secure Haven.
I had now been something upward of a Year in the Service of Mr.
Felton,
when, one Day, I heard a bustling Noise in the Street, and saw People running hither and thither across the Window. I stepped to the Door, and, looking to the Left, saw a great Crowd about a Cart, wherein were five Criminals going to Execution. I staid till they came just opposite to me, when, to my utter Astonishment and Terror, I I saw five of my old Acquaintance, and, in the Front of them, the bloody Villain who had proposed cutting the Throat of the unfortunate Pedlar. Instantly I turned all pale as my Shirt, and, dreading that they would know and claim Acquaintance with me, I shrunk in, and, running backward, threw myself half fainting into a Chair.
I now reflected that it was happy for me that no one was in the Shop to take Note of my Confusion; and endeavouring to assume some Courage, on the Enterance of our Journeyman, I put on the most unconcerned Appearance that I could.
Mr.
Felton
happened to dine abroad that Day, and did not return till the Cloth was laid for Supper. He took his Chair at Table, and desired me to sit beside him.
David,
said he, is it not wonderful that People should continue so incredulous, notwithstanding the frequent and daily Proofs of an all-seeing and an all-detecting Providence? If a Sparrow falls not to the Ground without the Notice of our God, how much more will he take Account of the Life of him whom he formed in his own Image. The Villain trusts to hide his Villany, and dares to affirm (with the first Murderer) in the Face of God and of Man,
I know not where is my Brother.
But Blood has a Voice, a crying Voice,
David;
it cries aloud to Heaven, from the very Bowels of the Earth. No Depth can cover it, no Darkness can conceal it, for the Light that shineth in Darkness will bring it forth to the Day.
About twelve Months ago, a Pedlar, or itinerant Merchant, was murdered in a waste House, called
Fielding
's Barn. The Murderers were of the People whom they call Gipsies, the most subtle and evasive of all Sorts of Reprobates, so that the Fact lay a long Time in Silence. This Pedlar, as it seems, had an only Brother, to whom the Reversion of his Substance belonged; and this Brother, not seeing or hearing from him of a long Time, went throughout the whole Country, and through many Parts of the Kingdom, enquiring after him. At length he arrived, over Night, at an Inn some Miles from hence, where he found, in the Kitchen, seven Men jovially seated over a Bowl of Punch; he quickly accepted their Invitation, and having spent the Time pleasantly, and the House being throng, he and one of the Company were shown to the same Bed.
About Midnight, his Companion began to moan most piteously, when, jogging, and asking him why he groaned? O,
Fielding
's Barn, he cried,
Fielding
's Barn,
Fielding
's Barn! Again, lying still awhile, he started, and cried, you cannot say it, you cannot say that my Hand was in the Murder. Again he would mutter, with a half smothered Voice, see, see, how he struggles, see how he kicks; put, put him out of Pain, O, put him out of Pain!
Hereupon, the Brother rose and dressed as quietly as possible, and, making way to the next Magistrate, he returned and seized and carried off his Bedfellow before any of his Comrades were apprised of the Matter.
What have you done, you Villain, said the Magistrate without Preface, what have you done with the Body of the Pedlar whom you murdered in
Fielding
's Barn? On this Question, the Wretch, thinking that all was detected, instantly fell on his Knees. I had neither Hand nor Heart in the Murder, Sir, he cried; and, if you will get me a Pardon, I will faithfully tell you the whole Affair. On his Confession, the five principal Rogues were arrested before they were out of Bed. And, on his Evidence, and that of their seventh Companion, they were sentenced, and this Day executed, and are to be gibbeted in the Morning.
During this Narration, I could not refrain from expressing, by my Countenance and Gesture, the strong Compunction I felt on recollecting my long Association with those Reprobates; but my good Master, as I suppose, ascribed my Emotions merely to the Detestation which I had of their Deeds.
I had been close upon two Years in the Service of Mr.
Felton,
and he had lately agreed with me at 25
l.
yearly, whereof he paid me the last Year's Wages in Hand; when, one Evening, as I stood behind the Counter, a young Woman came in and desired to see such and such Goods. While she was cheapening on the one Hand, and I setting forth the extraordinary Value on the other, several intelligent Glances were exchanged between us. Whenever her Eyes met mine, she instantly cast them down with a blushing Modesty; and, yet, whenever I looked at her, I saw that her Eyes had been fixed upon me. At length, having bought some little Matters, she made me a bashful Curtsey, and going out at the Door, she turned upon me with a significant Glance and departed.
All that Night I felt myself as I had never felt before; I turned, and turned again from the Image of this Girl, and yet she seemed to stand before me, and to look, and to look upon me, as she had done the Day before.
For five tedious Days she witheld herself from my Sight, and I feared that I should never behold her any more. At length she came, and I strove in vain to conceal my Joy on her Appearance. After cheapening and paying for some little Matters, she cast her Eye on a Piece of Silk, which, she said, she fancied greatly, but feared that her Pocket would not reach so far. O Miss, said I, we shall not quarrel for such a Matter, provided I know where to call for the Money. On
Sarah Simper,
Sir, said she, at such a Sign in such a Row.
As I had three or four spare Hours from Business every Evening, I gladly laid hold of the Occasion I had gotten for spending that Time in Visits to my Beloved. I went, indeed, without forming any Purpose or Intention, save the Pleasure of seeing her. Her Fondness seemed, at least, to equal my own; and, though we proceeded, at Times, to Toying, and Dallying, yet, for three Weeks we kept within warrantable Limits. But this was not always the Case. Our first Transgression was succeeded, on her Part, by Tears and Reproaches, and, on mine, by a Depth of Sorrow and Remorse.
As this was my first Fault, with respect to Woman, my Conscience was yet unsteeled. I spent the Night in Sighs and Tears of Contrition; and I repeated a thousand Promises and Vows to my God that I never would be guilty of the like again.
For five entire Days I kept from going to her. At length I considered, that, as I had injured her, I ought to make her such Recompence, as was in my Power. I put about twelve Pounds into my Pocket, being all that I had left of my last Year's Salary, and went and told her that I was come to take my leave of her; then, pouring the Money into her I ap, I promised to give her what I should earn from Time to Time, and to marry her whenever I should be enabled to maintain a Family. Here we both fell into Tears, and, from Tears we proceeded to Caresses, and so forth, till, at last, we became as guilty as we had been before.
In like Manner, for the six ensuing Weeks, I kept on in a Course of repenting and sinning, and of sinning, and again repenting. Every Night, I formed Resolutions which I imagined would be stronger than any I had made before, but, whatever Force I put on myself, whatever Strength I exerted, I never was able to persevere for three Days together. When I felt myself drawn to her, as by some irresistible Chordage, I vowed, and flattered myself, on the Way, that I would return without transgressing; but when I came to her, I found it quite as impossible to keep from sinning with her as it was to keep from her. Thus, by frail, and falsified Vows, I daily continued to add to the Heap of my Guilt; till, at length, I became hopeless of any Ability to resist Temptation, and sinned on with my Eyes open, and yet with less Remorse than before.
As I was sitting with her one Evening, a Bailiff entered suddenly, and laid an Action upon her for fifteen Pounds, which, he said, she promised to pay for her Mother, in her last Illness. Whether the Debt was feigned, and the Caption preconcerted between them, I know not; but I, afterwards, recollected that she did not seem to be so alarmed, as one would have expected on such an Occasion. On the other Hand, my Soul was filled with bitter and distracting Thoughts. I could not think of suffering my Love to be confined, among Fellows, in a common Prison; and yet, how to come by the Money I knew not.
offered the Man my Note payable when my Salary should be due; but he refused to depart without instant Payment. Hereupon I hurried Home, and taking out 15
l.
of my Master's Money, I returned and discharged the Action.
From this Time, my fair one began to extend her Appetites, and to rise in her Passions. Under Colour of being with Child, her Longings and Fits came frequent upon her; and I was in a Manner constrained to indulge her, till I had taken of my Master's Money to the amount of fisty Pounds.
David,
said she, one Day, it is Time to tell you, that I must soon quit my Mantuamaking Business, for I am growing too big to appear with Decency among my Customers. So you must take other Lodgings for me, and provide a sufficient Fund to defray the many necessary Expenses of Child-birth. And where, my dearest
Sally,
may such a Fund be provided? I have already gone Lengths for you that may bring me to the Gallows. If you had not been a poor spirited Fellow, says she, you could not bear to live in the Fears that haunt you so; you would long since have made away with that old Scoundrel your Master. Here, throw this little Dust into his Broth, or his Posset, and then you may wallow in Money without Fear of Account.
Here, I looked her full in the Face, when, every Beauty, that had once enchanted me, suddenly vanished from my Sight, and I saw nothing, but the dire Head of a sneaky Medusa. However, I suppressed my Horror as well as I could; and, putting back the Paper, No, no, no no,
Sally,
said I, I would rather die the worst of Deaths, myself, than have a Hand in making away with my kind old Master. And die you shall then, she cried, for I. will not perish alone. She then dropped on her Knees and vowed, with fearful Imprecations, that she would go directly to Mr.
Felton
and make a Discovery of my Robberies; that she would also go to the next Magistrate and swear a Rape against me; and that she would poison herself and the Bastard within her, that she might not bring into the World any Part of such a Villain.
While she spoke, her Aspect looked livid and deadly, and Wrath and Desperation flashed in Fire from her Eyes.
My dear
Sally,
said I, lower your Passions a little, give me that Paper again; we shall see what may be done. And here I leave you my Watch, as a Pledge of my Return by to morrow at Noon. This I did, however, not with the smallest Intention of keeping my Promise; for I determined never more to look her in the Face. But I bequeathed to her, as it were, the only Stake of Value which remained to me, that the Wretch whom I had ruined might not be left, altogether, without Means of Life.
When I got into the Street, I hastened homeward, without deliberating a Moment, on what I was about, or on the Consequences that might ensue. My Master was in a back Chamber, looking over some Letters, when I rushed in precipitately and shut the Door behind me. What is the Matter, Child, says he, are you not well? you look pale and affrightened, what is the Matter,
David?
O Sir, O Sir! and I sunk upon my Knees, I bring to you a Villain, a Reprobate, a Thief, a Robber, a Betrayer of Trusts, also, the vilest Sinner that ever sinned against God and against Man. I got in League with a bad Woman who seduced me, by her Beauty, and then prevailed upon me to defraud and rob you, and would have persuaded me to murder you, but there I stopped short; I could not be prevailed upon to murder you, my Master. Pray then, said he, somewhat sternly, to what Intent are you come? to demand Justice, Sir, I cried, and to appease my own Conscience by suffering for my Faults. Tell me then, said he, mildly, and tell me truly, of how much Money have you defrauded me? Of fifty Pounds, Sir, I answered, a few Shillings under or over. Rise then, pray rise, my
David,
he cried; I would not bring you to Shame, and much less to Punishment, for five times the Value of fifty Pounds. I owe you, for your Services, very nearly that Sum, and I forgive you the Remainder with all my Heart. No, Sir, I cried aloud, and burst into Tears, you do not forgive me, you cannot forgive me, for this your Goodness does but heap the heavier Guilt upon my Soul.
He then got up, and came to me, and raising me to his Bosom, he embraced me and cried, I rejoice over thee, my
David,
I rejoice over thee, my Child, as Heaven rejoiceth over the one Sinner that repenteth, more than over the ninety and nine that have no need of Repentance. You now know your own Frailties, you are sensible of your Lapses, you will be cautious of future Falls, and you stand upon firmer Ground than ever.
You know me not, I exclaimed, you know me not, my good Master. I am wholly irreclaimable. The Devil has taken Possession of me, and reigns through all my Members. I find it quite in vain to strive or struggle against him. I have no more Strength than a Midge against Temptation; no more Power than a weak and fainting Man against a Torrent that, already, has borne him far away.
I will pray for you, my Son, said the good Man vehemently, I will wrestle with my God for you, and his Grace shall be sufficient. No, Sir, I replied, after that which has happened, I never shall be able to look you in the Face, I will not trust myself. I know that I should fall on the first Trial. Will you leave me then, he cried, will you leave me, my Son
David?
and he took out his Handkerchief and wiped away the falling Tear. I must, I answered, I must leave you, my dearest Master, I should be miserable if I staid. I will go directly to Sea, I will confine myself in some Ship, where I shall be shut from any Commerce or Communication with Mankind, and not have it within my Reach to wrong or damage any Person. And, indeed, I could not bear to stay in one Town, or even in one Kingdom with that bad Woman. Where may she be found,
David?
said Mr.
Felton.
Ah, Sir! I exclaimed, leave her to God, and to her own evil Conscience, I beseech you. I believe she is with Child by me. Do not desire, my Master, to hurt a little Innocent that has not yet seen the Light! No, my
David,
no; I mean nothing but Comfort to her. I mean to supply her Wants and to soften her Distresses. She will not then be tempted to wish Hurt to her Benefactor, and I will take Care of the little Wretch which she carries in her Body, for your sake, my
David.
There was something so affecting, Gentlemen, in such a Proof of wonderful Goodness, as must have struck to the Heart of the most abandoned Reprobate. I was quite overcome thereby. I fell suddenly at his Feet, and I wished to pour out my very Soul, in the same Manner as I poured my Tears upon them.
As he now found that I was bent and determined on departing,
David,
says he, since you will go, you must not go unprovided. A Sailor ought to have with him his Chest, and Cheques, and Jackets, with his Books and Instruments of Navigation, and so forth; and, if you will give me your Company for three or four Days longer, I will look out to procure you some little Matter of Station, and get you a good Birth in some Ship or other. Mean time, I would advise you to set about your Preparations, for which Purpose you must accept these fifty Guineas, which you may please to return me, when some happy Adventure shall furnish you with Means. No, no, Sir, I cried, putting his Purse back with my Hand, your Plan is not the Plan of your reprobate Servant; your good Stations and good Births are not at all for my Purpose. I will go as a common Sailor; the meanest Offices and the greatest Drudgery will be a Penance, too little, much too little, for my Transgressions. And, so saying, I turned, and went hastily out.
I made directly to the Quay, where I saw a Crowd of Citizens intermixed with Sailors. On going up, I found that they were enlisting Volunteers, to whom they offered from one to three Guineas
per
Man. And what will you give me, Captain, if I go with you? He then looked earnestly at me, and, having eyed me, several times, from Head to Foot, I will give you my Lad, said he, five Guineas in your Fist, the best Mess of Pottage, the snuggest Hammoc to lie in, and here is my Hand for a hearty Welcome into the Bargain. If your Honour then will be pleased to order those five Pieces to be laid out for me, in Cheques and Trowsers, and such Necessaries as you think fitting; I live at such a Place, and shall be ready at a Call. Enough, said the Captain, our Ship is a thirty Gun, called the
Centurion,
and your Friend
David Jenkins,
the Commander of her. We set out by Morning's Tide, between ten and eleven; and if you come without a Call you will be the more welcome. So saying, he gave me a familiar Shake by the Hand, and we parted.
I then went directly home, and, calling Mr.
Pelton
aside, I told him of my Success and Engagement in the
Centurion,
suppressing only the Time of my early Departure; for I felt that I could not stand the parting with him, and I thought it best to make it as little painful to him and myself, as might be.
During Supper, I endeavoured to chat, but I could not. And, as Mr.
Felton,
at Times, looked affectionately upon me, I turned my Head aside, and a silent Tear stole down my Cheek.
I spent the Night in Sighs and Tears, and, getting up before Day, I took my Shoes in my Hand, and, stepping softly down Stairs, would have stolen out at the Street Door; but, in that Instant, the Door of a side Parlour was opened, and, before I could look about, my Master had me in his Arms. Will you leave me, then,
David,
will you indeed leave me? he cried. O,
David, David,
I love you next to my only Child. Stay with me yet, my Son, O, stay with me, my
David,
and I will do every thing, I will do all things that may be done for you.
Here I sunk, and was just fainting, under the Pressure of his Goodness. Do not kill me, my Master, do not kill me out-right, I cried. You must no longer be burdened by my Body of Sin and Death; as God has forsaken me, I must leave you, my Master! let him do with me as he will, and if I perish, I perish. So saying, I broke from him, and away I rushed; weeping and sobbing all the Way, as though my Heart would cleave in sunder.
The Captain received me with great Cordiality, and, at times, called me his Namesake, and was very familiar with me. The Sailors also, after his Example, began to affect me without any Appearance of Envy; for, though I had not been exercised in their Profession, yet I was strong and hale and active, and ready to assist them at every Turn.
In the mean time, please your Honours, it may appear very extraordinary, that, though I felt daily Compunction, and nightly wept many Tears for having offended my God throughout the Course of my Life; yet, I neither prayed to him, nor besought Pardon from him, nor applied to him for any kind of Support or Assistance.
I was now incorporated with a Fraternity whose Wickedness was of a Species quite different from that of my former Brotherhood. Our Sailors were so far from cheating or defrauding, that they scarce seemed to have any Regard for Property; and they were as brave a Set of Fellows as ever trod a Deck. But then, they were as hardened to any Sense of Religion or Piety as the nether Mill-stone; and the sacred and tremendous names of God, and his Christ, were of no other Import to them than as the Balls of a Billiard Table, to be tossed, and stricken, and bandied about for Sport.
At first, this was a Matter of great Offence and Horror to me. Can there be a God, I would say to myself, and can he suffer his tremendous Name to be insulted and blaspherned, as it is by these Wretches? But, alas! I was not as one of the three Captives at
Babylon;
I could not be cast into the Furnace and come forth without a Singe. In time, this Profaneness became less irksome to my Ears; and, by Degrees, I began to relish, and to catch the common Contagion.
At times, however, some Thoughts of God and a Saviour would come into my Mind, and the pious Impressions of my Infancy would return upon me; but I did my best to banish them, as they served but to torment me.
At times, again, I would silently expostulate, as it were, with God. It is true, I would say to him, I have been wicked, desperately wicked, through a long Course of sinning; but, did I not long strive, and struggle, and fight against Temptation? If you meant me for yourself, why did you not make me with less Proneness to Evil; or why did you not give me greater Strength to resist?
Again, shocking and blasphemous Thoughts would enter into my gloomy Soul: As though the Gospel were all a Fable, and Religion nothing but Priestcraft. That all Events were of Chance. That Men were good or evil, merely according to Constitution; and that, either there was no God, or he was too great, or too distant to concern himself with the insignificant Affairs of Mortals. But these Infusions of the Tempter were never of long Continuance; and again I would return to
believing
and
trembling.
Our Ship had been destinated to protect the Trade in the
Levant.
Within the Space of five Months, we had rescued, from their Captors, six Vessels of
English
Built and
English
Property; and we had made prize from time to time of three stout Frigates, of those
African
Pirates who war upon the World; when the Boy from the Mast Head cried out a Sail! We immediately made chase, and found, by Evening, that we had gained considerably upon her; but, as the Night came on thick and hazy, we slackened our Course, and, in a manner, lay by till Morning, but hung out no Lights.
At Dawn of Day, we renewed the chase, though no Sail was then in sight; but we had not continued our Course above four or five Leagues, when we clearly discerned the said Vessel, and perceived that she had tacked about and was bearing down toward us.
Hereupon, we slacked our Sails and waited for her. But, we had not waited long, till we perceived a second Vessel that seemed in chase of the First; and, some time after, saw a Third that seemed in chase of the two former.
On this, the Mate, an old and experienced Sailor looked somewhat blank, and desired that the Captain would instantly call a Council of War. Gentlemen, says he, the many Captures we have lately made could not fail of informing our Enemies that we are in these Seas; and I apprehend, with great Reason, that they have made choice of their best Means to overreach and overmatch us, and to fall with their united Forces upon us. And, indeed, ye may already perceive that the Ship which we had in chase, has slackened her Sails, and waits to be joined by her two Consorts, whom she seemed so lately to fear. I think, as the Jockeys say, that we have more than Foot for them; and all the Question is, whether old
England
shall make use of her Feet to fly, while she has any Hands left wherewith she may fight. At this, they cried, with one Voice, no flying, no flying! let them come on, the circumcised Dogs, as many as may be of them; we will neither take nor give Quarter, they or we must to the Bottom! To work then, my brave Lads, cries Captain
Jenkins,
for we are likely to have as warm a Bout on't as we could wish.
To bustle went all Hands. Every Sail was fitted, the Ropes and Pullies were made pliable; and, for the first Time, we interlaced and bedded our Nettings. The Captain then ordered all the small Arms to be gathered, and cleaned, and loaded, and laid upon Deck; and choosing, from the Company, a Dozen of the best Marksmen, he disposed them round the Ship, under the Shelter of the Gunnel, with Orders to bring down every Enemy, who mounted any Shrowd within the Reach of a Musket Ball.
Our Ship, at this time, was full manned with about two Hundred and seventy Spirits, all as ready and desirous to go and meet Death, as a Beau to go to a Ball, or an Alderman to a Festival.
The three Consorts were now joined, as our Mate had foreseen, and came down in full Sail and a sweeping Course upon us; and then it was that my Sins came crowding into my Mind, and I believe I was the only Person of the Ship's Company who trembled.
They all came up with a desperate Boldness; and, while one attacked us in Front, the others run, along side, almost close to our Gunnel, and, expecting instantly to sink us, poured the Thunder of their Cannon, on either Side, upon our Timber: While we raked the Ship, astern, with our chase Guns, and showered upon them, on either Side, the burning Hail of our small Arms. This put them into some Confusion, and they sheered off a little Space; when, in our Turn, we saluted them with a Broadside, on either Hand, which went over the Heads of their Men, but much damaged their Rigging. To repair this, they ran up the Shrowds, as thick as Bees upon a Branch, but our Marksmen brought them down in a Shower upon their Decks, and, as we plentifully supplied them with new-loaded Arms, in a short time there was not a Man to be seen among their Sails.
Our Ship was of
English
Oak, and stood their Shot to a wonder; our Mettal was also much weightier than theirs; but then they outnumbered us three to one, in Men and in Guns.
Having got out of the Reach of our small Shot, they moved off, as intending to make their Escape; but, having repaired their Tackle, as well as time would allow, they returned upon us with twofold Resolution and Fury.
Then it was, Gentlemen, that such a Scene was opened, as was sufficient to strike Hell itself with Horror.
They now entertained us with a new Kind of Warfare. For, getting up within Pistol shot, they tossed their Grenadoes or Hand Shells among us, that were filled with broken Bottles, and with rusty and ragged Pieces of old Iron. These did fearful Execution, and our Deck was quickly covered with Blood, and Brains, and Pieces of human Flesh, while the Noise of the Cannon could scarcely drown the Screams of the wounded and the Groans of the dying.
All enraged and desperate, we now tore away the Beds and Netting, that confined their Shells to our Deck, and, heaving them over-board, we lowered the Level of our Cannon, and poured our Grape-shot into the Midst of their Ships on either Side, which made horrible Havock and Uproar among them; whereupon, two of them sheered away as fast as their tattered Cordage would permit, while the third kept playing upon us at a Distance.
We now had Leisure to clear our Deck, and, with sorrowful Hearts threw our dead and our dying Companions overboard, as also all whom we judged to be past Recovery. Among, our wounded was one
Daniel Mc. Daniel,
who had lost his right Hand by the bursting of a Shell; and, while we meant to spare him, heave me over, heave me over, my Lads, he gallantly cried, since I no longer can help you, let me not be your Hindrance! No,
Daniel,
no, I cried, you shall not be heaved off. Such a Heart, with a left Hand, may be better to us, one Day, than the two Hands of a
Goliah.
Having, once more, set all to Rights, we moved toward the Vessel that continued to annoy us, whereupon she veered away and joined her Consorts. We then bore down on all three, but they gave way before us and maintained a running Fight; and as they levelled their Shot almost wholly at our Rigging, by Evening we were incapable of further Pursuit, for we had scarce a Yard of entire Shrowding left, and our Sails fluttered in the Wind and fell along by their Masts.
Mean while, we had plied them with our Cannon as fast as we could load; and, as it began to wax duskish, we perceived the Crew of the hindmost in much Confusion, and they repeated the Signals of Distress to their Consorts. Soon after, we saw them heave out their Boat, and they had scarce crowded in and moved off a Piece, when their Ship sunk outright and went plum to the Bottom. Hereon, we gave a great Shout, which we repeated on seeing their Boat overset. But, as the
Moors
are excellent Swimmers, I suppose most of them got safe, and were taken in by their Companions. In the mean Space, our brave
Daniel Mc Daniel
was put out of Pain by a Grape-shot in the Temple; and our most gallant Captain
Jenkins
had his right Leg carried off half way up his Thigh, by a Cannon Bullet; I think it was the last Shot the Enemy fired.
As I stood by my Captain's Side, I caught him in my Arms before he fell to the Board, and cried out for the Surgeons; but the Effusion of Blood was so great, and so impossible to be stanched, that we quickly despaired of any Life for him.
As I supported him on Deck with my right Arm, he found himself growing faint, and turned his Face to me.
David,
said he, I am not afraid to die, for I am a Christian. I believe, as surely as I am here, that Christ came into the World to save Sinners, of whom I am chief; and he is so great and so gracious, that he will not suffer Hell or the Grave to disappoint him of an End for which he paid so dear a Price. Here, my
David,
here is my Purse and my Watch, which I bequeath to your Love as my last Legacy; and here is my Diamond Ring with which I entrust you, as a Token to my dear Daughter, if ever it shall be your Fortune to revisit old
England.
And, if you should go to
London,
my dear
David,
enquire out my good old Friend, Alderman
Bicker;
tell him of my Behaviour during your Service with me, and that I beseech him to use his Interest with our Protector in procuring my Pay for my poor sweet Child.
And that I will, right heartily, cried out Sir
Thomas.
I will also speak a Word for yourself, my Lad; the Protector cannot refuse his Favour to one who has had the Honour of serving in the Action of the
Centurion,
whose Fame our very Enemies have spread through
Europe.
But, pray, proceed in your Narration; I long to hear of the Event, and of your future Successes.
Though we greatly grieved for our Captain, we were still more concerned for the Honour of
England,
lest our good Ship should fall into the Hands of the Barbarians. For she now lay like a Hulk on the Face of the Water. She could neither pursue nor avoid an Enemy; and, though she had been in Plight, we had not Hands left sufficient to work her.
Night came on apace, Hostilities ceased on both Sides; the Pirates hung out Lights to prevent, as we supposed, their parting from each other; and we mournfully called a Muster of our Men, in the dark; whereon we found that, of two hundred and seventy odd Men, we had but fifty remaining, twenty of whom were wounded, though not disabled.
Come, my Lads, cried the old Mate, it is as good to be merry as sad. We have wrought enough to Day to give us an Appetite. Let us have a Piece of Pork and a Bowl of Punch; and, if we die by Morning, let us not die with cold Hearts and empty Stomachs. Moreover, for your Encouragement, I take upon me to promise that, if you will be guided, I will make you the Masters of one of yonder Vessels before Sunrise.
We engaged Compliance to a tittle; and, after Supper and a plentiful Draught, he ordered our Boats to be heaved overboard and let drive with the Wind. We then set our Watch, and went down to take a few Hours Repose.
Two Hours before Day we were roused by our Mate, and, the first thing we did was to bore a large Hole in the Side of our Ship, about a Foot below Water, for which we had an occasional Plug prepared.
As soon as the Day dawned, we set Watches at the Cabin Windows, to give us timely Notice of the Enemy's Approach; and we lay down on our small Arms, withinside the Gunnel, quite out of Observation.
The Pirates, as we presumed, held up their Glasses, but, seeing neither Men nor Boats in our Ship, they concluded that we had made an Elopement by Night, and came on without Precaution or Preparation.
As soon as they had arrived within about Half a League, our Watchmen, according to Order, drew forth the Plug, and, getting up Stairs, crouched down, and joined us.
The Consorts had agreed to board our Ship on each Side, in Confidence of a rich and unresisting Prize. But, the Moment that we heard the first of them rustling along-side, and perceived that they were beginning to ascend our Gunnel, we jumped up, as one Man, and setting up a great Shout, and, overturning all we met, leaped into their Vessel.
Never was Amazement like that of the Enemy, they scarce made any Resistance, and, in less than a Minute, not a Moor was left upon Deck.
Mean time, the other Pirate had boarded our late Vessel, and nearly all the Crew had now got upon Deck. They had heared, indeed, the Shout, with the Clamour and Groans of their Fellows, but did not rightly know what to make of it; till, moving close round the Head of our former Ship, we shot the few who were left in the second Frigate; then, throwing out our Grapplings, we towed her a Piece off, and then bored and sunk her in the Face of her Owners.
They, thereupon, set up such a Yell of Despair and Horror as was affecting, even to the Hearts of their Enemies. At length they turned the Cannon of the Centurion upon us; but, every Moment, we got further and further from their Shot; till, having reached to a Distance of about three Leagues, we saw our good Centurion go to the Bottom, the glorious Tomb of her noble Captain who had fought her to the last.
We now thought that, of about a thousand Assailants, there was not one left to carry Tidings to their native Country of their Defeat. But, going down to the State-Cabin, I saw a young Man richly dressed, and of a noble Aspect, leaning wounded upon a Couch, with three Attendants about him.
As I entered, he gave me a Look that seemed compounded of Apprehension and Courage, and accosted me in mixed
English,
for he had travelled much, and resided for a Season in
London.
I know, said he, that I am your Prisoner; I also know what I am to expect. Draw your Cutlass then, and let me join my Countrymen! No, Sir, I replied, you have nothing to fear from me. A Man, who deserves that Name, owes nothing but Love to Man, except when he is assaulted; the Brave see no Enemy in the Feeble or the Conquered.
Where have you learned, he cried, the Sentiments of my own Soul? but, your Generosity shall lose you nothing; demand what Ransom you please and it shall be paid you. I am not Commander in chief, I answered, but, as far as my Influence reaches, you are free as Air, and shall be bound to us by nothing but your Affections. Then, stretching forth his Arm, your Hand, my Brother! he cried, and giving me a kind Squeeze, the Tear came into his Eye.
I went directly on Deck and informed our little Crew, now reduced to thirty three, of what had passed between the noble Moor and myself, and told them, I hoped they would be so generous as to make my Promise good. To this the greater Number gladly assented, but some of them murmured. Hereupon, I remonstrated that we were already rich enough, for we had taken all the Plate and Money, with what was most valuable and portable, out of our own Ship, beside the Treasure in the pirate Frigate which we had not yet divided. I further represented, that we knew not what the Events of War or Fortune might be; and that it would not be imprudent to make a Friend on the
African
Coast, who, in all Appearance, was a Person of high Consideration; and, with these Reasons, at length, all appeared to be satisfied.
I then carried the pleasing Tidings to my new Friend, and took with me our only surviving Surgeon, who dressed the Wound in his Thigh, which had been made by a Musket Ball.
As soon as the Surgeon had withdrawn, the noble
Osmyn
of
Petra,
for so he was called, presented me with his Purse, and a Carbuncle Ring of extraordinary Value, and pressed them earnestly upon me; but I as peremptorily refused them, and this Refusal appeared to distress him greatly.
During the five Days in which we continued together, I had him as tenderly and as honourably attended as our Circumstances would admit; and I spent with him all the Time I could spare from my Duties and great Fatigues upon Deck, as all the Hands we had were kept busily employed in splicing the Ropes, refitting the mangled Sails and Rigging, and in repairing the Breaches of the Vessel; for our Cannon had bored her Sides quite through in several Places.
On these Accounts we sailed but heavily, still making toward the Straits, and daily wishing to meet or be overtaken by some
English
Ship of Force, to which we might safely confide ourselves and our Treasures.
On the sixth Morning, having arrived within twenty Leagues of the Mouth, the Day discovered to us that we were almost within Shot of a Ship of
English
Built, and that carried
English
Colours. Hereat we rejoiced with exceeding great Joy, and slackening our Sail, and heaving out a small Boat, ten of us slipped into it, and away we rowed with all our might. As we approached, we saw Numbers, in
English
Dresses, walking to and again on Deck; and, getting alongside, they threw Ropes over to us, and we mounted with great Alacrity.
Hitherto we were so intoxicated with Joy, that we had not the Precaution to hail them, till we found ourselves in the very thick of our Enemies. I looked round, and, seeing none but tawny and hostile Faces about me, I civilly demanded who, and of what Country they were; when a Ruffian, gathering his Spittle, spirted it full in my Face, and, at the same time, gave me a Buffet on the Side of my Cheek. Then, I did not once reflect either where or among whom I was, but, with one Stroke of my Fist, I stretched him stiff along the Deck: Then, throwing up the Heels of another, who had raised his Arm against me, he fell with his Head foremost across his Fellow; and twisting round on a third, who had seized me behind by the Shoulder, I dragged him under me, and we fell together upon the Board. Here a Crowd of them gathered over me, and, each helping to hold a Leg or an Arm, I was bound with Cords that crushed my Flesh to the very Bone, and then tumbled with Kicks, like a Dog, along the Deck.
Mean time, my nine Companions, who had offered to interpose, were also seized and bound, and cast into the Hold.
For about three Hours I lay in excessive Anguish, though, through a Sort of stubborn Pride, I endeavoured to suppress my Groans. In the Interim I felt the Ship begin to move, and, soon after, I perceived all in Bustle about me, for I could see nothing that happened withoutside the Gunnel. Again I heared, from within and without, several Discharges of small Arms, and, as I saw several
Moors
fall lifeless or convulsed and biting the Deck around me, I rightly concluded that the Ships were engaged. I gave a long and deep Groan, and I cried aloud, O, my Countrymen, my brave Countrymen! why am I not with you, why have I not the Happiness of dying with you and for you? and my Heart was so wrung that I fainted quite away.
I afterwards learned that my true and valiant Fellows had refused to submit upon Summons. That the Pirate, seeing them so few, and being desirous of saving the Frigate for their own Use, had attacked them with small Arms, which were warmly answered, on our Part; when, having dropped or disabled above Half of our brave
English,
with two of
Osmyn
's Attendants who happened to be upon Deck, they entered and mercilessly butchered the Remainder, among whom was our old Mate and Surgeon.
Mean space, I lay insensible to all that passed, till a Ruffian, seeing me pale and lifeless, in all Appearance, gave me a Wring by the Nose. Hereupon I awake to the bitterest Sensations. I remembered me of my gallant Messmates, who had so loved and caressed me above my Merits; and my Tears, without Sigh or Groan, went in a River down my Cheeks.
At length, I heared a Voice, a known Voice as I thought, crying, where is my Friend, where is my Brother
David?
and, turning my Head a little, I saw my noble
Osmyn
just entering the Ship.
O, Gentlemen! be not apt to judge hardly of all who have not learned
Christ,
by the Form and by the Letter.
Osmyn,
my
Osmyn
proves that he may be in the Heart of those who never acknowledged his Name, although they have felt his Power. And, indeed, as the Apostle writes, those, who never learned his Law, yet, having his Law, or rather Himself, in their Hearts, shall be justified.
Having instantly cast an Eye of searching Love around, he spied where I lay, and coming, and throwing himself beside me, he put one Arm about me, and cried, O, my Brother, my Brother
David,
is it thus that my People use you? I grieve that you, Christians, should beat us, all to nothing, in Honour and Humanity. He then took out his Knife, and having tenderly cut my Cords, he strained his own Ability, to help me to rise.
He then called for the Captain who came, bowing to him with great Respect. Their Discourse was long and earnest. At length
Osmyn
rose high in Passion, and gave the Captain a back Stroke with his Hand across the Face. I observed his Choler swelling, almost to Suffocation, but he suppressed his Indignation, and retired in Silence. I heard
Osmyn
then giving some Orders to the Men, but, as I was a Stranger to their Language, I knew not the Purport of any thing that passed. Soon after, however, I saw my nine Companions brought from the Hold, and unbound. And
Osmyn,
turning to me, desired me to tell my People that they were all free, and that, as soon as we landed in
Barbary,
he would take the first Means of sending them with Honour to their native Country. Ah, my Lord, I cried, I am sorry that you struck the Captain, he has many Adherents here, and will certainly seek some Method of Revenge. He dare not, he dare not, replied my Friend; the Villain would have disputed with me the Property of my own Frigate, which I manned, and fitted out, at my own Expense. But, if I hear or see any more of his Insolence, as soon as we land I will complain to the
Dey
my Uncle, and have the Rogue impaled alive.
He then ordered out the long Boat, and turning to me, said, I am going,
David,
to take an Account of what Effects are left in my Ship; and, I would take you with me, if you were in a Condition to go; but I will soon return, and, in the mean Time, order the Surgeon to do his best for allaying the Swelling in your Limbs.
During his Absence, the Ship's Company and even the Captain, whose Name was
Barbar,
behaved themselves toward me and my Fellows with great, though silent, Civility; and a plentiful Mess was served up to us for Dinner. But, during our Repast, I observed that the Captain called such and such of his Men to the Quarter-deck, where he held with them a long and whispering kind of Conversation.
These Fellows, as it seems, were the most barbarous and bloody of all their barbarous and bloody Countrymen. Having taken the Ship wherein we then were, a Merchantman, carrying about twenty Guns, they had massacred every Creature on board, and then dressed themselves in the Clothes of the
English,
in order to inveigle others into the like Calamity; while they dispatched their own Frigate back to
Tunis
to get Recruits.
My noble Friend did not return till late in the Evening. He then ordered Supper to be got ready, and the State-Cabin to be prepared for him and I to lie in; but I whispered and besought him to excuse me for declining that Honour, as I perceived that the Favours which he did me, had, already, given much Umbrage and Offence to his Countrymen.
I know not whence, or for what Purpose, Forebodings may come; but, all that Night, my Spirits were exceedingly sad and depressed; and, though my Fellows and I were put to lie in a Part of the Ship, the most remote from my Friend; yet, I imagined that I heard secret Treadings and Mutterings; and again, at dead of Night, that I heard the distant Sound of trampling and struggling, as of People in doing and receiving Violence.
I was still sore, from the Tyings and the Bruises which I had received; when, toward the End of a sleepless Night, a Gang of armed Ruffians entered the Place where we lay, and loaded us with Irons. They then took away all our Clothes and Treasures, and threw to each of us, a Canvas Shirt and Drawers, as Slaves prepared for the Market.
The Moment they laid their Hands upon me, it occured that they would not have dared to do it, if they had not first made away with my dear Friend and Patron; at which Thought, my Soul grew instantly sick, and a dark Cloud of Sorrow fell heavily upon it.
Sore and shackled as I was, I got immediately on Deck, and looked wistfully out to Sea, but could discover no Frigate. I then shuffled along, as fast as I could, to the Cabin where I had parted the Night before with my
Osmyn,
and, looking in at the Door, I cried aloud, where are you Lord
Osmyn,
where are you, my Master, my Friend, my dear
Osmyn,
where are you, where are you?
When no Answer could be had, I returned, wild with Rage and Grief, and notwithstanding my Chains, had I not been disabled by my Contusions, I should have done my best to throttle every Man I met. But all I could do was, to wring my Hands, and roar aloud to all around, yet Butchers, ye Cut-throats, ye Villains of all Villains! what have ye done with your Lord, what have ye done with your Master, what have ye done with my Friend, with my
Osmyn,
my
Osmyn?
For two Nights and two Days, I tasted nothing but Water, which I drank in large Quantities, as my Soul, as well as Body, was in a Ferment and a Fever. On the third Day, the Captain, fearing that I would die of Grief, and that he should lose what he proposed to get by my Sale, sent a kind of Interpreter to me, to let me know, that, on the Night in which I parted with
Osymn,
he and the Captain, soon after, had some warm Words concerning their Rights in the Frigate, and in the
English,
now on board; whereupon
Osmyn
swore that he would not remain any longer in his Ship; and that, taking with him a Number of Hands, he reimbarked in the Frigate, and directly set Sail.
As this Tale carried with it some Face of a Fact, I grew easier in my Mind; and, on the very Day following, having anchored in the Bay of
Algiers,
my Fellows and I were taken into the Town, and sold at public Market.
I happened to be bought by one of the
Dey
's Factors, who immediately sent me to the Work at his Country Palace.
This Work was a most stupendous Undertaking. Above five hundred Men had been daily employed in it for two Years past, and yet a third of it was not done when I arrived.
A large Lawn extended itself in the Front of the Palace, and here the
Dey
had ordered a great Canal to be dug, and, from its Excavation a Mount to be raised, whose Base measured three hundred Yards in Circumference. The Ascent was easy and spiral, much resembling the Prints you have seen of the Tower of
Babel.
The Border of this Ascent was adorned, all the way, with lofty Cedars interlaced with all Sorts of aromatic and flowering Shrubs; and, from the top, before I left it, was to be seen the Bay, the Shipping, the City, and Country all around, while distant Mountains, on the one Hand, and an Extent of Ocean, on the other, alone bounded the Prospect.
You will think it very extraordinary, Gentlemen, when I assure you, that, till I was in a State of Slavery, my Mind never was free. Hitherto I had been the Slave of Sin, and of Appetite, of Passions, and of Fears. But, here I counted to set up my Rest for Life. I had no Parents, no wealthy Kindred, no Friend upon Earth, to whom I might look for a Pennyworth of Ransom. There was, therefore, no further Prospect for me, there was nothing further left to excite my Desire, or to excite my Concern; and I sunk gradually, as it were, down into the Peace of my own nothingness.
I had been lately the Possessor of the Value of some Thousands, and, now, I had not wherewithal to purchase a Morsel of Bread. But, I looked back on the many Scenes of my very many Wickednesses, and I did not look up, but looked down to my God, and cried, Not enough, it is not yet enough, O Lord! something sharper, something heavier! some Punishment that may expiate, and reconcile me to my God!
One Night, as I lay on my Bed of Stubble, I looked up to God, through the Cloud of my own Iniquities, and said, In Life, O my Lord, lay what thou pleasest upon me, but, in the Hour of Death, save, save me from the judgement! whereupon, something within me, said, Fear not, thou vile Wretch, fear not thou Worm
David,
for nothing shall be able to pluck thee out of my Hands. This gave me great Consolation, and Consolation was followed by Peace, and Peace was followed by Pleasure; insomuch, that I possessed more of the Sweetness of Heart-felt Enjoyment, than came to the Share of twenty Sensualists.
The Dey or Regent, then being, was called
Ali Eben Buchar.
He was a great Warrior, and yet a Man of an amiable Character, which is rarely the Case with Moorish Governors. He had been at
Constantinople
when I was enslaved; and, on his Return, he was so solicitously engaged in Matters of State, that he was not at leisure to come and see our Works. Toward the End of the second Year of my Servitude, he arrived with a pompous Train, and in a Chariot drawn by Tigers. He was a portly and comely Personage, though his Complexion was a deep olive. He expressed high Delight, on surveying what we had done; and he ordered a Festival, of three Days, to be proclaimed for his Labourers, with Sports, and martial Exercises, and Prizes for the Victors.
Great Preparations were made for this Entertainment. In a Plain, on the left of the Palace, a Square of half a Mile Diameter was enclosed with Pales; within which none were permitted to enter, save the Dey and his Train, with those who laboured in his several Works, amounting to about a thousand Men. On one Side, within the Pales, a Throne was erected with two Seats, and lower Benches were placed on either Hand.
Early on the Morning of the first appointed Day, the Festival was opened by the Sound of Trumpets and Horns, and other martial Instruments.
It had been a Custom, among us of the Labourers who were young and active, when the Day's Work was over, to divert our Fellows with various Exercises and Feats, such as Wrestling, Running, Leaping, and tossing or trundling Leaden Balls, and so forth; I was, therefore, up among the soonest, in hopes of distinguishing myself on the Occasion.
By the Dawning, the City was emptied of its Inhabitants, and Crowds came on, after Crowds, from all Parts of the Country, so that the Pales were soon circled by an innumerable Concourse.
Then came
Ali,
with his Attendants, and, entering the Pale, ascended his Throne. His favourite Sultana was placed on his left, and his Concubines took their Places on either Side, and his Courtiers and Guards arranged themselves behind.
Then were exalted, on Poles, the Prizes that were to be given to such of the Slaves or Labourers as excelled in tossing the Javelin, or in hitting a distant Mark with the Bow or with the Sling. But, as I had not been practised in these Matters, I contented myself, for this Day, with being a Spectator. Some of the Candidates, on this Occasion, were extremely expert, and would send an Arrow or sling a Stone more directly to the Mark, than any
European
could shoot a Musket Bullet; accordingly, the generous
Ali
added Freedom to the Prizes which they had won, and immediately preferred them among his Troops.
After this,
Ali,
to entertain his People, ordered a Dozen of his Courtiers to run at the Ring. Immediately a Number of neighing Steeds, richly caparisoned, were led by Lackeys into the Lists. The young Nobles, without Stirrup or Saddle, vaulted lightly into their Seats, and turning, and winding their fiery Horses, with wonderful Command and Address, gave high Delight to the Spectators. Each of them then caught a Javelin which was tossed to him by an Attendant; and, setting out, successively, almost at their Speed, three of them, in mid Course, bore off a small Ring of Brass, from the Thread by which it hung, on the Point of his Lance.
After this, again, a great Number of burlesque Comedians entered the Pales, in order to act one of their
African
Drolls or Pantomimes; some of them represented Men, some Tigers, Hogs, and Bears; others Ghosts, and others Goblins. But I could make nothing of such a Jumblement of Intention, although it gave great Diversion to the Populace. And thus ended the Sports of the present Day.
While the People retired homeward, several Waggons were drawn in, heavy laden with Victuals and Liquors, wherewith all the Slaves and Labourers were plentifully regaled.
The second Day was ushered in with the like Pomp, as the former; and Prizes were set up for lifting the Weight, for tossing the Colt, and for pitching the Bar.
At a little Distance from the Front of the Throne, a Ring was fastened to a leaden Mass, that weighed about five hundred Pounds, and above fifty Adventurers successively attempted to lift, but, not a Man of them could move it. I then advanced, bowing lowly toward the Throne, and putting my right Hand in the Ring, and exerting my Powers, I raised it fairly from the Ground, whereupon a great Shout was suddenly given by all my Companions who wrought with me at the Mount. Hereupon a Black came up, of Herculean Bulk and Brawn, and, desiring that fifty Pounds more should be added to the Lead, he lifted and swung them in the Air with apparent Ease, and the Prize was accordingly adjudged to him.
A large Iron Coit was then given to the Competitors, and, about a Dozen of them tossed it to a Distance that was thought extraordinary. I then took it up, and threw it three Foot beyond the furthest. But again, the black Slave came up, who was not of our Company, and tossed it two Foot beyond my Cast, and consequently atchieved the second Prize.
A long and massive Bar was then presented to us, but all refused to take it in Hand, till the same Black seized it, and, putting one End to his Foot, pitched it off to a Distance that raised a Cry of Admiration. I then took my Turn, and giving my whole Strength and Action to this single Cast, I pitched it some Inches beyond the Throw of my Rival, whereupon another Shout was given and repeated. The Black, then, was wholly enflamed by Envy and Resentment, and reclaiming the Bar, and exerting all his Force, he threw it to a Length, that, on Admeasurement, was judged to exceed my Cast, and he proudly laid hold on the third Prize.
The great
Ali
then ordered me to be brought before him. I went, and, bending on my Knee, laid my Head to the Earth. Rise, said he; I obeyed, and he surveyed me with long and earnest Attention. Young Man, he cried, you have been this Day something unfortunate, but you have not the less Merit; put this Ring on your Finger, it discharges you, henceforth, from all Kind of Labour; but it does not enfranchise you, because, for the present, I do not choose to part with you. I respectfully took the Ring, and, again bowing to the Ground, retired in Silence.
A Tournament of the young Nobles then ensued, wherein great Feats of Action and Prowess was shown. And the Day ended with another Droll to which I gave no heed.
The Morning of the third Day was opened as usual, and Prizes were exhibited for Wrestling, for Running, and for Leaping.
Immediately the black Champion stepped formidably forth, and challenged any to approach, who desired to be crushed to Death, but not a Man accepted this charitable Invitation. Unwilling, then, that this Boaster should carry off the Prize, without a Contest, I stepped from my Rank, depending more upon Action than Force to cope with him. We both stripped to our Canvas Drawers, and his Looks and Gestures menaced me with instant Destruction. I advanced, however, to essay him, and he stretched his Arms toward me, as a Vulture would reach his Pounces to seize upon a Chicken; when, springing instantly up to him, I put a Hand upon each of his Shoulders, and, vaulting lightly over his Head, I turned nimbly upon him, threw up his Heels, and laid him sidelong on the Earth.
As the Contrast of our Colours had rendered us remarkable to all the Spectators, a Shout was set up that rent the very Elements. But the Black rose, and roared aloud, with his Lion-like Voice, for Justice; and the Judges, on weighing the Matter, appointed me to another Trial, forbidding further Fraud.
Again we prepared to engage, and again my black Adversary stretched forth his Arms, with Eyes flashing Fire, and Features distorted with Rage; when, retiring from him, as if dismayed, I shot forward like Lightening, and, springing from the Ground, I pitched the whole Weight of my Body into his Bosom. This staggered him some Steps backward, when, continuing to press upon him, I put one Foot behind, and he fell under me, with a horrible Squelch, upon the Sand; and, dashing my Hand against his Forehead, I sprung up lightly on my Feet.
Here, the People repeated their Clamours, which were echoed for a long Space from Side to Side; while I proposed to the Judges that, if my Rival was not yet satisfied, I would give him the other Venture. But the Black was so far from being in Plight for a third Engagement, that he could not rise without Help on either Hand; and the Prize, being a fine Turban with a Diamond Button, was put upon my Head.
The Competitors for the Race then came from among the Crowd, being fifteen in Number, lightly equipped for the Purpose; and I also put on a thin Canvas Waistcoat that came close to my Body.
In the Front of the Throne, a long Pole was set up, from whence we were to start; and another Pole was erected on the further Side, round which we were to run, and so return to the Post from whence we set out.
We were all arranged in a Line, and
Ali
himself was to give the Word, when one of our Fellows, either thinking or pretending to think that the Word was given, started away, the rest followed, and I was left alone, quietly standing by the Post. Why don't you set out? said
Ali;
when your Highness shall be pleased to give the Word. Away then! he cried, and away I sprung.
As I found that I was gathering them up very fast, I suspended my Speed, and lingered behind the hindmost, till they had all turned the Post, and extended in a long Line before me. I then started away, and passed one, and then another, till, having passed them all, I left the oremost at a Distance behind me, and seized the Goal; whereon
Ali
himself gave a Cry of Admiration, which was answered, from all Sides, by all his People.
I was then presented with a Velvet Tunic, embroidered with Gold; and some smaller Matters were given to the two who came next to me in Speed.
The Candidates for the third Prize then rose from the Ground where they had sat to repose themselves; for they were the same Persons who had been Competitors in the Race. A scarlet Girdle was stretched along the Grass, as a Mark from whence the Rivals were to set off on their Leap. And each of them took a Run, till they came to the appointed Limit, and then sprung forward with their utmost Agility.
As this, of all others, was the Article of bodily Exercise wherein I excelled, I stood by, as an unconcerned Spectator, till the Contest was over. I then measured with my Eye the Length they had passed. Then, taking two Men, I set them in Mid-space, and, placing a Pole upon their Heads, I took a run, and, throwing myself Head foremost over the Pole, I turned in the Air, and alighted six Inches beyond the furthest Leap; whereupon I was presented with a Collar adorned with Gems of great Lustre.
Ali
then ordered two Troops of his lightest Horse to come forward. Accordingly they entered the Pale, and dividing, they retired to opposite Sides of the Lists. The Populace then fell back and cleared the mean Space, and the young Officers set forward, on a half Gallop, at the Head of their Troops.
Never did I see such Action, such Horsemanship. The Officers, as they rode swiftly forward, would toss their Lances aloft and then catch them in mid Air; and again they would cast them to a Distance before them, and stooping, take them from the Ground in the Midst of their Speed.
The Troops then met, as should seem, in mortal Opposition; and, breaking their frail Lances against each other, they drew their Wooden Sabres, and each, passing his Adversary, gave a back Stroke to his Neck, with such Force and Agility as was truly alarming. Their Ranks then appeared to be broken on either Part. And, instantly, forming themselves into little Rhombs, or Squares, or Wedges, they fought and mixed together, as in a Country Dance, with the most regular Confusion that ever was beheld.
This was justly delightful to all the Spectators; and I regretted their Departure, with the ridiculous Entrance of a third Pantomime.
While this Droll was preparing, I received an Order from
Ali,
to dress myself in the Prizes which I had won, and to attend him.
I obeyed, and presented myself before him. What is your Name, young Man?
David,
so please your Highness. Are you of Christ or of
Mahomet, David?
My Will is with Christ, so please you, but, while I confess him with my Lips, my whole Life has denied him. Then,
David,
if you will but forsake Christ, and turn to
Mahomet,
you shall be the Friend of
Ali,
and he will heap Treasures, and Titles, and great Honours upon you. Ah, my Lord! I cried out, though I hold my Christ but by a frail and feeble Thread, yet I would not quit that Thread for a Chain of golden Links that should bind the whole Wealth of the World to my Possession. And, why would your Highness desire the Service of a Traitor? He, who proves a Traitor to his God, so please you, can never prove true to any Master.
Well,
David,
said he mildly, we may talk of these Matters hereafter. In the mean Space, before I do you any Grace, I ought at least to do you Justice. You have already received the Rewards of your Valour and your Action, but you have not yet received the Reward of your Obedience. You were the only one, brave
David,
who, at the Risk of your own Honour, attended on my Word, and here I give you an Earnest of the Recompence that I intend you.
So saying, he presented me with a large and massive Sabre, whose Handle was studded with Gems of great Value. I received it on my Knee, and he then continued, Ask me now,
David,
what further Gift you demand, except your Dismission, and it shall be granted you, to a Tenth of the Treasure in my Coffers.
When he had spoken, my Eye was caught by one of his Retinue, and immediately I recollected the Features of the Pirate
Barbar.
I, instantly, cast myself prostrate before his Throne, and cried aloud, Ah, generous
Ali!
may God multiply to you Treasures and Blessings a thousand fold! I ask none of your Treasures or Possessions, O
Ali!
I only ask the Head of that Traitor, the Head of
Barbar;
I ask but Blood for Blood: Let him restore to me my Friend, my Brother, my Lord
Osmyn;
he is a Murderer, a Traitor, and such I will prove him, by Night or by Day, by Sea or by Land, at any Weapons, against any Odds, I will prove him a Traitor.
While I spoke, thus impassioned, all about appeared under the utmost Consternation; and
Barbar
trembled and turned pale, but did not dare to quit his Station.
Rise,
David,
said
Ali,
and tell me what Friend, what
Osmyn
thou dost mean? All I know of him, my Lord, is that his Name was
Osmyn
of
Petra,
and that he was Nephew to some great Prince in this Part of the World.
Why, you dream surely,
David,
replied the Regent,
Osmyn
of
Petra
was my own Nephew; and he perished, with all his Crew, by the Hands of the
English.
He did not perish by the Hands of the
English,
I cried; the
English
were his Preservers, his Friends, his Attendants, and he perished by the Hands of his own Countrymen, and more especially by the Hands of this Traitor
Barbar.
Well, said
Ali,
we have not Leisure, at present, to examine into the Truth of these Allegations; Guards, take that
Barbar
into safe and close Custody till we are better informed, touching the Facts with which he is charged. Mean time, do you,
David,
follow in my Train, for you must take up your Lodging with me, this Night.
The Place, though it appeared one uniform Edifice, was divided into two by an impassable Barrier. The one was the occasional Habitation of
Ali
and his Attendants: And his Wives, with their Eunuchs, were lodged in the other, where it was Impalement for any Man, save
Ali
himself, to enter.
The generous
Ali
was not of a jealous Temper. He gave his Women uncommon Liberties, as you have seen; for though they were kept, by their Veils, from the Eyes of the Vulgar; yet those Veils were of so very thin a Gauze, that they could clearly discern every Object about them.
For three Days and Nights, after I entered his Palace, though I was treated with an Attention that gave me much Uneasiness, yet I had not the Honour of being called to his Presence.
At length I was conducted by a private Door to his Cabinet. My Friend
David,
said he, what hast thou to tell me, concerning my dear and brave Nephew
Osmyn?
I then minutely, and at large, recited to him the Particulars above related And we shed many Tears, that were mutually provoked by the Tears of each other.
Having closed my Narration, he cast his Eyes down, awhile, as in deep Meditation; and raising them again, he said, the Presumptions are strong, very strong against this Man, and yet there is a Possibility that he may be guiltless. And though
Osmyn
is my Nephew, my Blood, and almost my Bowels, yet Honour, Humanity demands of us,
David,
that nine Criminals should escape the Punishment they deserve, rather than one innocent Person should perish in his Righteousness. But, the great
Alla
may give us further Lights in this Business.
In about five Days after, a Convict was to be gaunched for the Rape and Murder of a free Woman. He was to be thrown from the Top of a high Tower, from whose Walls projected several sharp and shagged Instruments, resembling Hooks, Scythes, Tenters,
&c.
at certain Distances, some below others.
He fainted several times as he was carrying to Execution; and then, being in an Agony, he said he had a Matter of the highest Consequence to impart to the great
Ali,
and prayed to be brought directly into his Presence.
I was on the Spot when he was led in, and, looking earnestly at him, recollected that he was the Ruffian who had spit in my Face and given me a Buffet when I entered
Barbar
's Ship.
Wretch, cried the Dey, what hast thou to say to
Ali?
That I am guilty, answered the Convict, of Crimes more heinous and capital than that for which I am to suffer, of Crimes that nearly concern yourself, O
Ali,
but which you shall never know, unless you swear to me, by
Mahomet,
to mitigate the Manner of my Death. I do swear it, said the Regent, provided the Discovery which you make shall be found of due Import.
He then deposed that, on the Night, in which
Osmyn
disappeared, the Captain, with ten confederated Ruffians, of whom he was one, entered the Prince's Cabin, and, having muffled the Faces of him and his Attendant, to prevent their crying out, bound them Hand and Foot and heaved them, through the Window, into a Boat that waited for them. That then, getting into the Frigate, they massacred the seven
Moors
to whose Care she had been left, and rifling her of all the Money and Plate and Valuables that they could find, they got into their Boat, and, sinking the Frigate, with
Osmyn
and his Attendant in her, they made Way, with Oar and Sail, to the nearest Shore, where they divided their Plunder, and, staving the Boat, made separately off to different Regions.
Here
Barbar
was sent for, and came in Chains, and attended by Guards, into the Presence. But, as soon as he saw the Face of the Convict, without waiting to be confronted by his Evidence, he rushed violently, with his Head foremost, toward the opposite Marble, and, if a Man, who was at Hand, had not caught him by the Chain, he would instantly have dashed his Skull to Shivers.
Ali,
hereupon, without further Examination, ordered the Head of the Convict to be struck off in the Morning, and
Barbar
to be impaled in the Face of the People.
Never was Joy like mine, on hearing this Sentence pronounced against
Barbar;
and I rose early the next Morning in order to have the Pleasure of being at his Execution.
He was so enfeebled by his Panicks, that they were obliged to draw him on a Sled to the Stake; and the muscling of his Countenance had all the Impressions of Death, Despair and Hell represented upon it.
This, however, did not affect me with any other Sensation than of that Delight which is naturally felt on the Gratification of Revenge, till the Executioners, with unfeeling Hearts and merry Tauntings, began to take the Wretch in Hand. But, when I saw them, with Difficulty and great Violence, thrusting the Stake through his Body, which they run up withinside the spinal Bone and so out at the Back of his Neck, in order to avoid his Bowels and keep him the longer in Anguish; when I saw him writhing in Agony, and heared his horrible Roars and Groanings, all my Revenge was quickly turned into Terror and Compassion; his Pangs and Sufferings, as it seemed, were transferred to my own Person, and, had I not turned away, I should have fainted on the Spot.
The Dey, from this time, became extremely fond of me and familiar with me. He allotted me an affluent Pension, with Slaves, Horses and Attendants. He said I should be to him in the Place of a Nephew and of a Son, and he called me by the Name of
David-Osmyn.
Some time after, Tidings were brought that
Caled Amurath
of
Fez
was making mighty Preparations to invade his Dominions. We will more than meet him Half way, cried the gallant
Ali;
perhaps we may even prevent his threatened Expedition. He then summoned his Forces from all Quarters. I was present when he made a general Muster of them. His Foot were more formidable for their Numbers than their Discipline; but his Horse were perfectly trained, and made a most brilliant Appearance.
The Day before he set out, I threw myself at his Feet. I will go with you, my Master, I will go with you, I cried. I will not have any Command or Post of Preference or Honour; I only desire Permission to fight by your Side, that you may witness how greatly I shall dare in your Cause; how ready I shall be to take, to my own Bosom, all the Weapons that shall be aimed at your Bosom, my Father!
No,
David,
he replied, my People know you are still a Christian. I could not refrain from showing the Love I have for you; and that might be Matter of Jealousy and Discontent to my Captains. I will leave you here a Band of Soldiers, with whom you are to encamp within Sight of my Palace, and to keep these Walls from Violence, and my Women from Pollution. But, while you are their Guardian, beware that you do not turn an Invader,
David!
I would pardon you any thing but this; I would not pardon you the Invasion of my Bed,
David-Osmyn!
No, my Lord, I cried aloud, I cannot prove ungrateful. Though your Women were as obvious to my Walks as yonder Pavement, and though adorned with more Graces than their first Mother in Paradise, they should have no Temptation for me, my Master!
The next Morning
Ali
began his March; and having escorted him a Piece on his Way, I returned to my Charge.
That Night, as I lay in my Tent, I began to call myself to Account.
David,
said I to my Soul, thou hast now gotten Preferment, and Riches, and Honours; thou art, as it were, the second Man in the Realm, and all this People have thee in high Estimation: But, art thou the better or the happier Man for all this,
David?
Far otherwise, far otherwise. O frail and vain Heart! these Gauds and these Glories have taken hold upon thee, and they have drawn a painted Veil between me and my God. To my Chain, and my Straw, and my Nakedness, return me to them, O Lord! return me to my Slavery, return me to my Labours! I was not then, indeed, gaining Conquests and winning Prizes; but I was near to obtaining
the Prize of the High Calling.
My Body was not then adorned with Gold and Pearl; but my Spirit rejoiced in
the Pearl of mighty Price!
In about five Weeks after, as I was taking, by Moonlight, my Evening's Walk of Meditation, on the Marble that checquered the Pavement before the Palace,
Muley,
an old Black, and Chief of the Eunuchs of the Seraglio, came up and accosted me.
Osmyn,
said he, taking a Bundle from under his Arm, I have here a Present for you, that would make proud the greatest Emperor upon Earth. It is a complete Suit wrought, purposely, for you by the Fingers of the Sultana, as also by the Fingers of her fair and princely Sisters. They saw your great Atchievments during the Festival, and they send you this in Return for the Pleasure which you gave them.
So saying, he unfolded the Robes to the Moon. They were flowered with needled Gold, and inlaid with Pearl and Gems of such a vivid Lustre as reflected her Beams with tenfold Brightness.
And what is required of me,
Muley,
I demanded, in Return for this inestimable Honour and Bounty? Nothing, said
Muley,
but a single Hour's Attendance, to give them a short Sketch of your Life and Adventures. Take back your Presents, I cried, there is Poison and Death in them; I will not betray the Trust that our Master has reposed in me. Nay, said
Muley,
I affirm to you that there is no such Intention. Our Ladies are all Women of the severest Chastity. I will undertake to conduct and reconduct you back in safety. Neither can our Master be betrayed in any Degree. They all live together, they love like Sisters, and no one keeps a Secret from the other. However, they desired me to tell you that, if you are of a fearful Temper, they will not insist on the Favour so much expected.
Here, I felt myself piqued: No,
Muley,
I cried, I am no Coward. I can dare all honest Dangers. I will attend you. But, I will not stay,
Muley.
I will let your Ladies know, that, in the Cause of Honour and Virtue, I can resist all Temptations.
I then called a distant Slave, who waited my Orders, and, giving him the Bundle, desired him to lay it within my Tent. Where now,
Muley?
said I. I will show you, said
Muley.
He then led me to a large Bucket, wherein Water was accustomed to be raised, by Pullies, to the Balcony, and there to be emptied into Vessels that stood upon the Leads.
You must not enter any Door of the lower Story, said
Muley;
for there our Domestics inhabit, and might, probably, observe you. But, if you get into this Bucket, in a Minute or two after, I will raise you by the Pullies, and take you gently in.
Muley
then went from me, and was admitted, on striking at a distant Door; while I stood by the Bucket, and, observing its first Motion, jumped in and was conveyed to the Top of the Palace.
Muley
there received me in Darkness and Silence, and, taking me by the Hand, led me down by a few Steps, into a narrow Apartment that was scarcely enlightened by a glimmering Lamp. He there left me again, giving me only a whispering Promise that he would quickly return. I waited for him long, however, under great Impatience of getting speedily back again. At length he came, and, taking me by the Hand, without speaking a Word, he led me through a long and dark Entry, till, coming to a folding Door, he touched a Spring, whereupon the Door flew open on either Side, and threw a sudden Blaze upon my dazzled Eyes.
The Saloon, upon which it opened, was profusely illuminated, and most sumptuously furnished; but my Attention was quickly called from such inferior Objects. In the Midst, a Board was covered with an elegant Collation of little Matters. Around it were placed a great Number of small Sofas; and, behind each Sofa, stood a Lady richly adorned, but veiled from the Head to the Waist.
Again,
Muley
led me to the further End, while I made low Obeysance as I passed the Company. He then compelled me to sit, where, by a small Turn of my Head, I could have a full Prospect of each Fair-one at Table. Then, as by one Motion, they were all instantly seated; and again, as by one Motion, they all, instantly, threw up their Veils, and I had like to have fallen backward with the Suddenness of the Lustre that flashed upon my Spirit.
All the Ladies smiled, and seemed delighted at my Astonishment. The Sultana
Adelaide,
sat nearest to me, on the Right; and was no way distinguished from her Sisters, but by a small Coronet of feathered Diamonds that was inserted in her lovely Locks.
Osmyn,
said she, you seem something surprised; were you never in a Seraglio before? Have you no Seraglios in your Country,
Osmyn?
No, Madam, I replied, we have no Seraglio in our Country; but sure, no Seraglio, upon Earth, ever produced such and so many Beauties as now strike my Eyes. Heaven, alone, can exhibit such a Constellation of Luminaries.
Would you not wish then, said
Adelaide,
to have such a Seraglio of your own? No, Madam, I answered; without Love, in my judgement, there can be no true Enjoyment; if ever I love, it can be but the one Object, and her I shall love with my whole Heart; true Love will admit of no Division. Here, she looked at me, with a Tenderness that sunk into my Soul, and, taking out her Handkerchief, she wiped away a swelling Tear.
Another Lady then demanded if we had not a Woman Market, and if they were not Slaves in my Country as they were here? No, Madam, I replied, our Fairones ones there, are not the Subjects of Merchandize, but the Objects of Admiration. No Woman in
England
can be bound to any Lover, save by her own Affections. There, it is Death for any Man to have more than one Wife, and that after a Suit, perhaps of several Years. A Lady there of equal Beauties to the least excellent in Company, would be followed by Hundreds of humble and sighing Adorers. In
England,
our Actions are as free as our Hearts; and the Sensibilities of mutual Love, between those of the Sexes, who feel the tender and enchanting Passion, constitute the principal Happiness of which Life is capable.
Happy Englishwomen, happy Englishwomen! was echoed all around.
Alas, cried the lovely
Adelaide,
how very different is our Fate! we are sold, like servile Brutes, to any Brute of a Master. We neither love nor are beloved; as you now have convinced me,
Osmyn.
We are subjected to vile Desires, which we at once detest and suffer; and, when those Desires are gratified, we are cast away as common Lumber, to make Room for some new Comer. Even high as I sit here, the favoured Sultana of my Lord, I may To-morrow be appointed to the meanest Offices of his Houshold. This, surely, cannot be a Marriage; for, as you have intimated,
Osmyn,
and as I feel in my own Soul, Marriage can only consist in an Union of Hearts. Love cannot be bought or sold; it is of too precious a Nature; nothing can purchase, nothing compensate, save its Value in Love alone.
Here they pressed me to tell them my Story; and here I confess, to my Shame, that, however vile I appeared in my own Eyes, I was ambitious of appearing as honourable and deserving as possible in the Eyes of the fair
Adelaide.
I, therefore, suppressed what was black, glossed over what was offensive, and enlarged on every thing that I deemed advantageous in my own Character.
The Night was far spent, by the Time I concluded; and the Sultana, arising, proposed to show me the Curiosities of an adjoining Cabinet. I accordingly attended her, and was astonished at the Lustre, the Richness, and Profusion of the Jewels, as well as at the Miracles of Art that she displayed before my Eyes.
On our Return, we perceived that our Company had absconded.
Adelaide
grew all Crimson, and cast down her Eyes. I, also, was confused, my Heart began to throb, and I looked about for some Pretence to make a quick Escape. But  but  In short, Gentlemen, neither my Resolutions, nor Religion, nor Honour, nor Gratitude were of any avail against such a Temptation; they fell together, an easy Victim to the all-conquering
Adelaide.
Adelaide
was the first to press my Retreat. It was not yet Day. I found
Muley
in Waiting. We came by the Way we went, I stepped into the Bucket, and he let me gently down.
As I approached the Pavement, I felt a Hand, behind, that seized me violently by the Shoulder. I sprung out, and, seizing the Wretch by the Throat, would instantly have plunged my Poniard into his Bosom; but some Power as suddenly arrested my Arm, and said to my Heart, beware that thou add not Murder to Adultery,
David!
While I hesitated, a Number rushed upon me unaware, they griped me by each Arm, and, wresting the Poniard from me, they bound my Hands behind, and led me to the Cells of the
Imams
that stood something aloof from one End of the Palace.
As soon as they had brought Lights, what,
Osmyn!
exclaimed their Chief, can this be our renowned
Osmyn?
Is it thus that you repay the Favours of your generous and kind Master? You are a Christian, cried another; has your
Christ
then taught you to betray the Confidence and Trust that is reposed in you? This was a home Stab; it went through my Heart; but I stood in a shamefaced Sullenness, and opened not my Lips.
Here they went apart, and, having consulted awhile, returned.
Osmyn,
said their Chief, you are a brave and a wonderful Man, and it is a pity to lose you. Your Secret is yet with us; and, we swear to you, by our holy Prophet, and by the terrible
Alha,
that if you perform the single Condition we enjoin, we will bury what we know, in a Depth below the Grave, and we will recommend you to the Love of
Ali,
and the Acclamations of all the People, and we will have you loaded with Preferments, and Riches, and Honours. Name it quickly, I cried, whatever it may be, at the Risk, at the Loss of my Life, I will perform it. It is, said he, no more than to abjure
Christ,
and to confess
Mahomet,
whose Priests we are, and all the Blessings of his Paradise shall be showered down upon you.
Here I gave a deep Groan; and casting down my Head, and shedding a silent Tear, without daring to lift my Thoughts to Heaven; No, no, I cried, though
Christ
is nothing to me, though I have no Interest in him; though he spurns and has rejected me, for Time, and for Eternity; though I have daily denied him by every Action of my Life; yet my Tongue shall never deny him. In Poverty and Nakedness, in Dangers and in Dungeons, in Death here, and in Hell hereafter, my Mouth shall confess him.
Here, they went apart again, and, returning, told me, that I should have two Days to deliberate on their Proposal; but that, if I did not comply, I should be impaled alive on the third Morning, with all the additional Tortures that Art could invent.
They then put me into a covered kind of a Waggon and conveyed me to   , where I was cast into a noisome Dungeon, bolted down to the Ground with Irons, sustained with coarse Bread and Water, and not allowed a Ray of Light to divert my Thoughts from the Darkness and Horrors of my Situation.
Mean time, I endeavoured to reinforce my Resolution, by repeating to myself the sacred Promise, where
Christ
says,
whosoever will confess me upon Earth, him will I confess before my Father which is in Heaven.
Mine, indeed, said I, is but a verbal Confession; but, even that, with what I am about to suffer for his Sake, may serve to make me less criminal, if not acceptable in his Sight.
I then longed to be brought to the Test, while I shuddered at the Thoughts of it. At length the Day arrived. The
Imams
came, and once more repeated the Question; but I still persisted, though in Terms that were scarcely intelligible, for my Tongue cleaved, with Terror, to the Roof of my Mouth.
They then stripped me to these Drawers, out of which, also, they took my Money with other Valuables, and every thing except this insignificant Walnut, and, having tied me to a Sled, I was dragged to the Place of Execution.
The chief
Imam
once more asked if I would renounce the Son of
David?
but I made him no Answer, for I was unable to speak. I had seen the Preparations; the Stake in the Hands of the Executioners; the Fires kindled about me, with horrid Instruments ready to be put therein, for the tearing of my frying and quivering Flesh from the Bones.
Could I then have had the Confidence to have turned my Soul to God, and to have besought his Assistance in that trying and terrible Hour, I make no Question but he would have given me Strength from on high, to defy all that Man or Devils could do unto me; and, I might now, in the Regions of his Bounty and his Blessedness, have been pouring forth my Existence, in the grateful and astonished Sense of his Mercy to such a Sinner.
But, when I reflected on the Wrythings of
Barbar,
the bare Sight of which my Spirit was not able to support; when I saw such an Apparatus of additional Torments; and when they took me in Hand, for instant Execution, I utterly lost my Senses; I shrunk inward with Fear, my Hairs stood on End with Horror; my Tongue found sudden Utterance, and, I cried, Stay, stay, I will say, I will do whatever you enjoin.
The Imam then began to pronounce a Form of Renunciation, which he ordered me to repeat after him; but, I was so panting and breathless, that they were obliged to get a Cordial for me to keep me from swooning.
As soon as my Spirits were something restored, the Imam again began his impious Ceremony, and I make no Question but I should have gone through it, however abhorrent to my Soul; but, in that Instant, we heard distant Shouts and Cries, as of many People; the Sound of the Clamours drew nearer and nearer; and, soon after, we saw Numbers hurrying to and hurrying from the City. Their Words became, now, as distinct as they were audible;
Ali
is slain.
Ali
is slain! was all the Cry; and
Amurath
comes in full March upon us.
Here, all turned suddenly from me, and, flying several Ways, left me unbound and alone, sitting close by the Stake. Seeing this, I began to recover from the fearful and faint Condition in which I was; and, rising, I made the best of my way to the Port. There I saw a long Boat just about to set off with a Number of Fellows, much in my own Plight, and, taking a Run, I sprung from the Beach into the midst of them.
A Man then demanded, in
English,
if I was one of the Ransomed? Yes, ransomed, ransomed, I cried, wonderfully ransomed indeed; whereupon, without further Question, they set up their Sail, and, in about two Hours, we reached the Ship which the Consul had appointed to take them in.
For the Remainder of that Day, I continued in a State that is hard to be conceived. My Head and Stomach, at times, were disordered by sick Fits; and my Soul hovered in an astonished and fearful Kind of Doze; as one not rightly awake from a Dream of Horror.
Toward Evening I threw myself down in the Hold, and sunk into a State of utter Oblivion, as I had not slept for the three foregoing Nights and Days.
The Day following I found my Body something refreshed, but the Situation of my Mind was like that of a disturbed and tumbling Sea after a raging Storm. I looked around for Comfort, but no Comfort was near; I looked afar off for Hope, but no Hope came in Prospect. The Sense of Existence became a Misery under which I was not able to bear up; and, could I have had my Wish, Creation would again have been uncreated.
During the Whole of our Voyage, I continued, very nearly, in this Distemper of Spirit. For, though, at Times, I would enter into the Frolics and jovial Humours of the Crew; yet my Merriment, at such Seasons, was a Merriment to Madness; and I would again sink, precipitately, into a Depth of Despondence, whose Darkness would admit no Ray of Consolation.
The Tempter would then urge me, by Dagger, or by Drowning, or by any Means, to get rid of a Being that only served to torment me: But again, the Dread that I might not get rid of that Being, and that Death might plunge me into a Perpetuity of those Pangs in which I saw the wretched
Barbar
agonizing, this deterred me from hastening the Day of my horrid Doom, and so I waited in a gloomy and
fearful looking out for judgement.
I would then call myself, at Dead of Night, before that terrible judgement. Thou Fiend
David,
I would say, wherefore art thou sunk in Guilt above all that ever were guilty? It was thy Fortune to get three good and kind Masters, good and kind above thy Wants, and even up to thy Wishes; and all these thou hast deceived, thou hast spoiled and betrayed them. Even the Master of all Masters, the Master who was my Freedom in the Midst of my Captivity, I was on the Brink of denying the
Jesus
also; nay, I did reject, I did deny him, I promised, I engaged, to reject and deny him; and he will reject thee; through Time, and through Eternity, he will deny thee,
David!
One Evening a fearful Tempest arose; and, while most of the Crew gave some of their little Matters to the Providore for Liquors, and sat, drowning the Sense of Danger, and profanely carousing, at one End of the Ship; my Companions, who are present, were praying or singing Glory to God, in the other. Both Parties invited me to join them, but I refused to be Partaker with either; for I could not abet, in others, that Wickedness which I condemned and detested in myself; and I could not think of taking, into my execrable Mouth, the sacred Name of that
Christ,
to whom I had so lately turned a false Apostate. In the mean time, I held myself as the Refugee
Jonas,
whose Crimes had brought Perdition on all in the Vessel; and I was on the Point of advising the Mariners to cast me out.
At length the Tempest abated, but my Perturbations did not abate. I wished to repent, but I deemed myself past the Possibility of Repentance; and thus I continued in a State of Dissatisfaction and Enmity against myself, against my God, against Man, and Woman kind.
When the Constables entered, and, by the Order of Sir
Thomas,
laid hold on such a Number of my late Associates; though I thought that I did not care what became of me, yet Nature began to reassert her Rights; I trembled and turned exceeding pale, as I suppose; all my Crimes came rushing together into my Memory; I imagined that they were exposed before your Eyes also; and I expected, each Moment, to be seized, like my fellow Culprits, and thrown into a Dungeon. But, when I found that, instead of Punishment, you proposed to load me with your Bounties; all my Sins appeared to me the more exceedingly sinful; your Goodness came, in a Heap, upon the Heap of my own Guilt; and I fell prostrate at your Feet, as under the Weight of a Mountain.
AS SOON as he had closed his Story; take Courage and Comfort to you,
David,
I cried. Your Case is not near so desperate as your conscientious Fears have formed it. Your Error lay in trusting to your own Sense of Duty, and to the Strength of your own Powers for resisting Temptation; and, the best Man that ever breathed, with no better a Dependance, must inevitably have fallen, as you did,
David.
You now know your own Weakness; you are taught, by repeated Experience, that, in or of yourself, you no more can stand against the Enemies of your Soul, when they assail you, than a Tree severed from its Root, and barely set on End, can stand the Assaults of a coming Tempest. Keep therefore to your Root,
David.
Never dare, in your own Strength, to oppose yourself to a Reed. Apply to the Rock, my Friend, from whence you were hewn. Cling to him, repose upon him, put your whole Confidence in him; and then your Weakness shall become stronger than an Army with Banners; and neither Life nor Death, nor Principalities, nor Powers, nor Things present, nor Things to come, shall be able to separate you from the Love of God which is in
Christ Jesus.
While I spoke, his Eyes began to glisten, the Cloud of his Countenance cleared, his Aspect assumed a cheerful Serenity, he could scarce have been known for the same Person; and he cried, I will, I will, once more seek to my God; do you, my Master, pray him to permit my Approach; and in Life, or in Death, I never will let go my Hold of him any more. He then would, again, have cast himself at my Feet, but I hastened to prevent him.
David,
said I, I am going for
France,
and before I set out, I should be greatly pleased to see you in some decent Way of Livelihood, Now, instead of the twenty Pounds, of which you held yourself so unworthy, here are two hundred to make a kind of Beginning for you, and I should be glad to know the Use you propose to make of this Money.
In the first Place, Sir, said he, I will refund, to my two Masters, all the Money of which I defrauded them, with full or double Interest, amounting, as I suppose, to seventy or eighty Pounds. And, in the next Place, I will return, to your Honour, every Penny of the Remainder; for indeed you shall not persuade me to trust myself with it. In my present Way of thinking, it would be of no more use to me than the Stones or Dirt of the Street. My State of Slavery and Labour was the only State of Happiness that I have known since my Birth; and I dread, I shudder at the Apprehension of Affluence. I am already but too rich, in having my Liberty. I am now in a free Country, and, therefore, Lord of my own Earnings. Matter of Labour is but Matter of Play to me. The Pay of a Porter, on the Spot where I am, will be too much of Opulence; it will give me a further Sufficiency to supply the Wants of the Needy, and the Cravings of the Beggar.
My good
David,
my beloved Penitent, said the worthy Sir
Thomas,
and so saying he took him most cordially by the Hand, how came you by that same Walnut, the only Remnant of all your Treasures, which you called insignificant, and have yet retained to this Day? You are as
Pharaoh
to his chief Butler, Sir, said
David,
you bring my Faults fully into the Remembrance of your Servant.
While the Sultana, as I told you, was showing and displaying to me the Treasures of her Cabinet, she desired me to take, thereout, whatever I held most rare or most estimable. But, as my covetous Fit was not then upon me, I turned my Eye on a few Walnuts that I saw in a Corner, and, taking one of them, said, that I would keep it for her Sake. Swear to me then, she cried, that you will never break or open it, till you get into your own Country. This was an easy Condition, and I instantly complied with it.
Did you love the Sultana,
David?
Yes, Sir, to excess, as I am also persuaded that she loved me; and we vowed to intermarry, if ever it should be our Fortune to regain our Liberty; and, bound or free, never to marry another.
Let me look at your Walnut,
David,
said Sir
Thomas,
you are now under no further Injunction concerning it. Do not break it, I beseech you, then, Sir, said
David,
because I intend never to part with it. I will not break it,
David,
I will only open it with my Knife, and a little Matter of Isinglass may soon repair the Breach.
Sir
Thomas
then took the Walnut, and having poised it, for some Time, in his Hand; I will give you a hundred Guineas,
David,
said he, for your Hazard of what this Shell contains. I would take a hundred Pence, Sir, said
David,
if I was inclined to take your Money without giving Value. Sir
Thomas
then took his Knife, and, dividing the Shell with the utmost Caution, I have a strong Fancy,
David,
said he, that I must soon raise the Market; and instantly produced a Diamond of the first Water and Magnitude.
We all started back and looked astonished; and
David
was the only Person in Company who, neither by Word or Look, expressed the smallest Joy or Satisfaction on the Occasion.
Sir
Thomas,
who was a Jeweller, having inspected the Stone awhile with much Delight and Admiration, Mr.
David,
said he, I would offer you seventeen hundred Pieces for this Diamond, if I did not think my Offer considerably under the Value, but I shall be a better Judge when I have put it in the Scales. Keep it, keep it, Sir, cried
David,
and heartily welcome, return me only the Shell, it is all I will accept of. Then, turning to me a pale and alarmed Aspect, Ah! Sir, said he, this is questionless another Device of the Tempter, I fear that I am not to get quit of my old Associate so soon as I looked for. I do not think with you,
David,
in this Matter, I replied. I rather conceive that Providence hath sent you this Treasure at a Time that he sees you will make a worthy Use of it. Oh, Sir, he cried, if it shall ever, again, be my Case to fall off from my God, I shall certainly run mad, or make away with myself. Why so,
David?
said I. You must not expect, all on a sudden, to jump into a sinless State. Such a State is only for those who have already
fought the good Fight,
who have
finished their Course,
who have
kept the Faith.
Such a State is only for those, in whom the Babe of
Bethlehem
is not only conceived, but grown up and become mature: These, indeed, cannot sin, but run, with a joyful and free Will, into all Sorts of Goodness, as a Stream is prone to run to its kindred and parent Ocean. But, as for such as you and I, Brother
David,
we must be content to struggle on, and to fall and rise by Turns. And, though we should fall an hundred times a Day, yea, and be sore wounded also, my
David,
yet we should not despond, but turn as often to our Helper, in total Diffidence of ourselves, and full Confidence in his Mightiness. For he is almighty to lift us up whenever he thinks good, and the Balm of
Calvary
is better than the Balm of
Gilead,
to heal all our woundings.
I will tell you another Secret,
David,
which I learned from a Saint who is now deceased. That the humbling State of frequent and conscious Lapses is more eligible, and tending to higher Blessedness for Man, than the Firmness and Rectitude of an unfallen Angel, because it saps Self-confidence and creaturely Dependance, and throws one wholly on the Base that pillars up Eternity.
Here he caught at my Hand, and pressing his Lips upon it, what shall I render you, my Master, what shall I render you, he cried, for the Peace and Comfort which you have shed abroad through my Bosom? I may now draw near to the Throne of Compassion, heavy laden with all my Sins, that is to say, with all myself; and I will trust to free Mercy for removing the Burden, and to free Grace alone for any good that shall ever be in me.
As it now grew late, we agreed that Sir
Thomas
should take
David
home in his own Coach, and that I should take
Thomas
with me in a Hackney; and I gave their remaining Comrades an Order for a hundred and fifty Guineas
per
Man.
When we were just upon separating,
Thomas
caught
David
about the Neck. O my dear
David,
said he, I shall surely never dare to judge any Man again; for I held you to be a very Reprobate, when you were, fifty times over, a better Man than myself. Hereupon I wished Sir
Thomas
and
David
a good Night, and, making
Tirlah
and
Thomas
go into the Coach before me, my two Servants lighted us Home with, each, a Torch in his Hand.
As I entered the House, Mrs.
Tirrel
met me with a sudden Joy in her Countenance. My dear Sir, she cried, I began to be in Trouble about you; I have kept Supper back this long Time. Then, said I, let us have it as soon as you please; for I have here brought a dear Friend home with me.
I placed the Twins directly opposite to each other at Table, and I made
Tirlah
and young
James
sit down along with us.
While I was pleasingly employed in observing the mutual Emotions of the Brother and Sister; they looked eagerly at each other, they both changed Countenance, and neither of them offered to taste a Bit. Mr.
Thomas,
said I, why don't you eat?
Thomas! Thomas!
cried the Sister, in a quick and passionate Accent; it may be  it may be  O !    my Brother!
So saying, she gave a Jump which, for the World, she could not have done at any other Time. Over tumbled the Table, Meat, Dishes, and Plates; while she caught and clung about her Brother, without casting a Thought away upon the Ruins that she had wrought. O my
Tommy,
O my
Nelly!
my
Tommy,
my
Nelly!
was all that was uttered in the Midst of their Caresses. They saw no one but each other; they heard no one but each other; and I would gladly lose or give a thousand Suppers, to be feasted as I was at that Season.
When Mr.
Clinton
came to this Part of his Story, a Messenger entered in fearful Haste, and delivered a Letter to Lady
Maitland.
As soon as she had run it over, my dearest Sir, she cried, I must leave you this Instant. I lately made you an Offer of a hundred thousand Pounds, and now I know not that I have so many Shillings upon Earth. I am here informed that the Trustee of all my Affairs has absconded and made his Escape to
France;
but I must hurry to Town, and enquire into this Business. So saying, she courtesied and suddenly withdrew, without giving her Cousin Time to make a Tender of his Services.
The next Morning, Mr.
Clinton
ordered his Chariot to the Door, and hastened to attend her Ladyship at her House in
London;
but, there he was told that she had set out for
Dover
about an Hour before, and he returned, much dejected and grieved on her Account.
In about three Weeks after, Mr.
Clement,
with his young Pupil, came home, quite lightened of the Money they had taken abroad. Mr.
Fenton,
for so we shall call him again, gave
Clement
a friendly Embrace, and took
Harry
to his Caresses as though he had returned from a long and dangerous Voyage.
Well
Clement,
said Mr,
Fenton,
what Account have you to give us of your Expedition? An Account, Sir, that would be extremely displeasing to any Man living except yourself, in short our young Gentleman, here, has plunged you above a thousand Pounds in Debt, over the large Sums that we carried with us. I hope the Objects were worthy, said Mr.
Fenton;
wonderfully worthy, indeed, Sir; I never saw such tender and affecting Scenes. Then I shall be overpaid and enriched by the Narration.
Here,
Harry
enquired impatiently for Mrs.
Clement
and his Friend
Ned,
and being told that they were on a Visit to the Widow
Neighbourly,
he took a hasty Leave for the present, and away he flew to embrace them.
As soon as he was gone, Sir, said Mr.
Clement,
I cannot think that there is, in the World, such another Boy as yours. I will leave to himself the Detail of our Adventures in the several Prisons; they had such an Effect on his Heart, that they cannot but have made a deep Impression on his Memory; so I shall only tell you of what happened in our Way to
London.
As we were chatting and walking leisurely along the Road, a poor Man before us happened to drop in a Fit of the Falling-sickness. When
Harry
saw the Writhings and Convulsions in which he lay, he turned pale and looked vastly frightened, and, seizing me under the Arm, he cried, come, come away! and hurried me off as fast as he could. But we had not gone far, till his Pace began to abate, and stopping, and hesitating, let us turn, let us turn, Mr.
Clement,
he cried, let us go back again and help the poor Man! We then returned hastily, and, raising his Head, we kept him from bruising it against the Ground. I then forced open his clenched Hands, and, having chafed the Palms awhile, he began to recover, and soon came to himself. Meanwhile
Harry
's Fright was not yet quite over. He seemed willing to get away from the Object of his Terror, and, putting his Hand in his Pocket, and giving him all the Silver he had, he wished him better Health, and away we went.
We had not gone above Half a Mile further, when I saw a little Girl, in a Field on the right Hand, endeavouring to drive a Cow through a small Gate into the Road, in Order to be milked, as I suppose, by her Mother; but the Cow kicked up her Heels and proved wanton and refractory, and ran hither and thither, and would not be guided. The poor Child then set up a Cry of as bitter Distress, as if all that was valuable in the World was going to ruin.
Harry
gave a ready Ear to the Sound of Lamentation, and seeing the Plight that the poor Thing was in, he suddenly crossed the Road, above Ankle deep in Dirt, and, leaping the Ditch, he proved nimbler than the Cow, and, driving her through the Pass, he turned her into the Way that the Child would have her go.
That Morning, indeed, was to
Harry
a Morning of petty Adventures. By the time that we approached the Suburbs, we had nearly overtaken a grown Girl who carried a Basket of Eggs on her Head. A great lubberly Boy, just then, passed us by at a smart Pace, and, tripping up to the Girl, gave the Basket a Tip with his Hand, and dashed all the Eggs into Mash against a stoney Part of the Road, and, again taking to his Heels, run on as before. Immediately
Harry
's Indignation was kindled, and, setting out at top Speed, he soon overtook him, and gave him several smart Strokes with his little Cane, across the Shoulders. The Fellow then turned upon
Harry
and gave him a furious Blow with his Fist over the Head, while I hastened to his Relief, as I perceived that the other was quite an Overmatch for him. But, before I arrived, our Hero had put a quick End to the Combat, for, springing from the Ground, he darted his Head full into the Nose and Mouth of his Adversary, who instantly roared out, and, seeing his own Blood come pouring down, he once more took to Flight, while
Harry
continued to press upon him, and belaboured him at Pleasure, till he judged that he had beaten him to the full Value of the Eggs.
Meanwhile the poor Girl, wholly unmindful of what passed, remained wailing and wringing her Hands over the Wreck of her Merchandise. The Voice of a Siren could not so powerfully have attracted and recalled
Harry
from the Length he had gone; he returned with Speed to her, and I followed. My poor Girl, says he, where were you going with those Eggs? To Market, Master, says she: And what did you expect to get for them? About five Shillings, Sir, and I had promised my Daddy and Mammy to lay it out in Shoes and Stockings for my little Brothers and Sisters; and so, I must now hear all the Blame of the poor Things going barefoot. Here, she again set up her Wailings, and her Tears poured down afresh.
Harry
then desired me to lend him ten Shillings, and turning to the Mourner, hold out your two Hands, my poor Girl, he cried. Then, putting five Shillings into each Hand, here is the Payment for your Eggs, said he; and here are five Shillings more, though I fear it is too little, to pay you for all the Tears they cost you.
Never did I see so sudden, so great a Change in any Countenance. Surprise, Gratitude, Ecstasy flashed from her Eyes, and gave a joyous Flush to the muscling of her Aspect. She hurried her Money into her Bosom, and dropping on her Knees in the Dirt, and seizing hold of
Harry
's Hand, she squeezed and kissed it repeatedly, without being able to utter a Word. While
Harry
's Eyes began to fill, and, endeavouring to disengage himself, he made off as fast as he could, from such Thanks as he thought he had no Way deserved.
This, Sir, was the last of our Adventures going to
London.
But, had you seen us, on our Return, about two Hours ago, you would have wondered at the mirey Plight into which we were put, by helping Pasfengers up with their Bundles, that had tumbled into the Dirt; or by assisting to raise Cattle that had fallen under their Carriages; for Master
Harry
would compell me to be as busy and active, in Matters of Charity, as himself.
However, Sir, I am to tell you, that Master
Harry,
with all his Excellencies of Person, Heart, and Understanding, will be accounted a mere Idiot, among People of Distinction, if he is not permitted to enter into some of the fashionable Foibles and fashionable Vices of the Age.
We were taking a Walk in the Mall, when we were met by the Earl of
Mansfield,
who expressed great Joy at seeing Master
Harry,
his old Acquaintance, as he called him, and he pressed us so earnestly to Dinner that we could not, in Manners, refuse him.
There was a vast Concourse of Company, more especially of the little Quality of both Sexes, who came to pay their Respects to young Lord
Bottom
and his Sister the Lady
Louisa.
Harry
was received and saluted by Lady
Mansfield
and the young Lord, without any Appearance of the old Animosity. Some time after Dinner, a large Pacquet of Letters was brought into the Earl, and, making his Excuse to
Harry
alone, he rose from the Table and retired to his Closet.
Lord
Bottom
and his Sister then led the young Males and Females to an adjoining Apartment, where several Card-tables were laid; and I began to tremble for the Credit of my Pupil, on the Occasion, as I knew him to be a Novice in such Matters.
In the mean time, the remaining Ladies and Gentlemen divided into two or three Parties at Ombre; and I sauntered about the Room, admiring the Prints of the
Ariadne,
and the
Aurora
that were taken from
Guido,
as also some capital Paintings that the Earl had brought from
Italy.
I had spent above an Hour in this pleasing Amusement, and had nearly made the Tour of the whole Dining-Room; when, as I stood, at a little Distance behind my Lady's Chair, seemingly inattentive to any thing that passed, Lord
Bottom
entered on Tiptoe, and, tripping up to his Mother and tittering and whispering in her Ear; what do you think, Mamma, said he; sure, Master
Fenton
is a Fool, a downright Fool, upon my Honour. He does not know a single Card in the whole Pack, he does not know the Difference between the Ace of Hearts and the Nine of Clubs. I don't think either that he knows any thing of the Difference or Value of Coin; for, as we passed through the Hall to Day, a Beggar asked for a Halfpenny, and I saw him slip a Shilling into his Hand. Indeed, Mamma, he is the greatest Fool that ever I knew; and yet, poor Fellow, he does not seem to know any thing of the Matter himself.
During this Oration of Lord
Bottom,
on the Virtues of his new Friend, I felt my whole Body glow and tingle with Concern; and, soon after,
Harry
entered with the rest of the small Quality. Master
Fenton,
cries my Lady, I beg to speak with you. Don't you know the Cards, my Dear? No, indeed, Madam. Can't you play at Dice? No, Madam. Can you play Draughts, or Polish, or Chess? Not at all, Madam. Why then, my Dear, I must tell you, that all your Father's Fortune will never introduce you among People of any Breeding or of any Fashion. Can you play at no Kind of Game, Master
Harry?
A little at Fox and Geese, Madam: And pray, my Dear, said my Lady smiling, which of the Parties do you espouse? The Part of the Geese, Madam. I thought as much, pertly cried out my Lord
Bottom,
whereupon a loud Laugh was echoed through the Room.
Here, my Lady chide the Company, and calling
Harry
to her again, for he had gone something aloof, Tell me, I pray you, said she, why you espouse the Part of the Geese? Because, Madam, I always wish that Simplicity should get the better of Fraud and Cunning.
The Countess here looked astonished, and having gazed awhile at him, and caught and kissed him eagerly; You are a noble Fellow, she cried, and all must be Fools or mad that ever shall take you for the one or the other.
The elder Gentry, here, laid their Cards aside, and desired the young Ones to set about some Play. Lady
Louisa
proposed Draw-Gloves, or Questions and Commands, and to it they went.
Among the Females was one Miss
Uppish,
sole Heiress to a vast Fortune. Though her Person was deformed, her Face was the very Picture of confident Disdain; and scarce any one could speak to her, or look at her, without being told of the Contempt she had for them, by the Side-Glance of her Eye, the Writhing of her Neck, and tossing up of her Head.
In the Course of the Play, our
Harry
was commanded to put the Candle into the Hand of Miss
Uppish,
and then to kiss the Candlestick, which Command he obeyed literally, by giving her the Candle and kissing the Candlestick which he held in his own Hand.
Hereupon, a great Shout was set up in the young Assembly, and, O the Fool, the senseless Creature, the Fool, the Fool, the Fool, was repeated throughout; while Lord
Bottom
laughed, and danced about in the Impatience of his Joy.
I was amazed that
Harry
's Countenance seemed no Way disconcerted by all this Ridicule. At length Lady
Mansfield
called him to her. How, my Dear, could you be guilty of such an Error, she said; did not you know that, when you gave the Candle into the Hand of the young Lady, she became the Candlestick, and it was her you should have kissed.
Harry
then approached to her Ladyship's Ear, and, in a pretty loud Whisper, said, I did not like the Metal, Madam, that the Candlestick was made of. Again Lady
Mansfield
looked surprised, and said, you are a sly Rogue, a very sly Rogue, upon my Honour, and have Sense enough to dupe the wisest of us all.
Jemmy Bottom,
cried my Lady aloud, come here! I can't but tell you,
Jemmy,
that you have behaved yourself extremely ill to your young Friend here, who might have improved you by his Example as much as he has honoured you by his Visit. I must further tell you,
Jemmy Bottom,
that, whenever you pique yourself on degrading Master
Fenton,
you only pride in your own Abasement, and glory in your Shame. Hereupon, I got up and, leaving our Compliments for the Earl, I carried off my young Charge, for fear of our falling into any further Disgrace.
While
Harry
is abroad, said Mr.
Fenton,
be pleased to give me a general Sketch of the Manner in which you disposed of your Money. In the first Place, Sir, answered
Clement,
you will find, by this List, that, for little more than the five hundred Pounds allotted, we released ninety five Prisoners, whose Debts amounted from forty Shillings to about twelve Pounds
per
Man. These, in the general, had been Journeymen Taylors or Weavers, or Professors of other inferior Crafts; and, as they wanted Means or Encouragement for exercising their respective Occupations in Gaol, they subsisted on the Pence which they got by begging at the Grates, or on their Dividends of occasional Sums, which were sent for their Relief by charitable Individuals. Nearly all of them were thin in Flesh, and extremely shabby in Clothing, and yet they could hardly be said to excite Compassion, as they appeared so cheerful, and unfeeling of their own Wretchedness. Neither was there one of them, that I could learn, a single Circumstance of whose Story was worth reciting.
Some, however, were of a Quality much superior to this Class. Among others, there was a
French
Marquis and a
German
Prince; the Prince had been put under Arrest by his Caterer, and the Marquis by his Taylor; so that, something less than fifty Pounds set them both at Liberty.
While the Keeper of the Fleet Prison was making out a List, for us, of the principal Debtors,
Harry
and I took a Turn about the Court, and observed two Fellows, in Liveries, bearing several smoking Covers, up the Stone Stairs, to a front Dining-room. This surprised me, and gave me the Curiosity to enquire what Prisoner it could be who lived in so expensive and superb a Manner. Sir, said the under Keeper, there are few Men, now at Liberty, near so wealthy as this Gentleman, who has done us the Honour to set up his Staff of Rest in our House. His Name is
Sink.
He is an Attorney and an old Bachelor, turned of sixty Years of Age. He is in for several Sums, amounting to upward of nine thousand Pounds, and he is reputed to be worth above double that Money.
During the last twenty Years, he behaved himself with the strictest Probity toward all Men, and with the strictest Appearance of Piety toward God. In the dark, in Frost and Snow and all Inclemencies of Weather, he never missed attending Morning Service at Church. He was equally solicitous to be at Evening Prayer; and, whatever Company he chanced to have with him, or, how important soever the Business in which he was engaged, the Moment he heard the Bell ring, he would huddle up his Papers and break away without Ceremony. He was eager in his Enquiries to know where the Sacrament was soonest to be administered, and he never missed Receiving at least once in the Week. Whenever he heard any Profaneness or Obscenity in the Streets, he would stop to reprove and expostulate with the Offender. In short, he so perfectly counterfeited or took off, as they call it, the real Christian, that many looked to see him, like
Enoch
or
Elijah,
taken alive into Heaven.
This perpetual Parade of Sanctity gave him such an Eclat and unmeasurable Credit, that he was left Trustee and Executor in a Multitude of Wills; and Numbers also deposited their Substance in his Hands, in order to be laid out at Interest on Securities, and so forth.
Three Months since, about the Dawning, as his Butcher happened to pass by his Door, he heard it open, and turning, saw a Number of Porters come out heavy laden. This gave him a Kind of Suspicion. He let them all pass, and, walking softly after, he stepped up to the hindmost and offered him Half a Crown, on Condition of his telling him where they were carrying those Parcels. That I will, said the Porter, for the Secret, if such it is, is nothing to me you know. In short we are carrying them to the Wharf to be put on board a Boat that waits to take them in.
The Butcher said no more, but hurried away to the Baker, and, as they both run to the Office, they met the Brewer by the Way. They took out their respective Actions, and, taking a Constable with them, they seized on good Mr.
Sink,
as he was stepping into a Coach and Six to make the best of his Way to
Dover.
He would have paid them their Money and discharged their Actions on the Spot; but here the Master, in whom he trusted, happened to leave him in the lurch. As he had turned all his Effects into Money, and his Money into Paper, he had not at Hand wherewith to pay his instant Creditors. So they hurried him to Gaol, and, before the Banks were open, the Matter was blown, and Action after Action came pouring fast upon him.
When he found himself thus at Bay, he cast aside his Disguise and set them all at Defiance. His Creditors have since offered to accept ten Shillings, and some of them to accept five Shillings in the Pound; but he swears that he will never pay them a Groat; for he is now as liberal of his Oaths and impious Execrations, as he was lately of his more impious Profanation of Gospel Phrases. And thus he daily revels in the sensual Consumption of those Wretches whom he hath so inhumanly defrauded, while Hundreds of Orphans and Widows, and other Miserables perish for want of the Sustenance, which one infernal Appetite devours without Remorse. Nay, several of his Creditors are, at this very time, famishing in this Prison, while they see him feasting so lavishly upon their Spoils.
The Gorge of my Soul, cried Mr.
Fenton,
the very Gorge of my Soul rises against this
Daemon.
Can nothing be done to bring him to Punishment? Our Parliament will surely interfere in such a calling Exigence; they will send to the several Banks, and take up all the Deposits that have been made in his Name. Alas, Sir, said
Clement,
he was already aware of such Possibilities, and has entered all his Lodgments in feigned Names, and to Bearer upon Demand.
Indeed, continued
Clement,
I heartily wished, at the time, that the Laws of the
Grecians
and
Romans
had been in Force among us, where the Debtor was given up to be set to Labour, whipped or tortured at the Pleasure of the Creditor.
God forbid, God forbid, exclaimed Mr.
Fenton.
When we see Mankind divided into the
Rich
and the
Poor,
the
Strong
and the
Weak,
the
Sound
and the
Sickly,
we are apt to imagine, that
Health, Strength,
or
Opulence,
was given to Those; and
Infirmity, Want,
or
Weakness
appointed to These, as Marks of the peculiar Favour or Disfavour of Providence.
GOD, however, knows that there is nothing permanently good, or evil, in any of these Things. He sees that nothing is a Good but Virtue, and that nothing is a Virtue, save some Quality of Benevolence. On Benevolence, therefore, he builds the Happiness of all his intelligent Creatures; and, in this our mortal State, (our short Apparatus for a long Futurity) He has ordained the relative Differences of
Rich
and
Poor, Strong
and
Weak, Sound
and
Sickly,
&c. to exercise us in the Offices of that Charity, and those Affections, which, reflecting and reflected like mutual Light and Warmth, can alone make our Good to all Eternity.
BENEVOLENCE produces and constitutes the Heaven, or Beatitude of GOD himself: He is no other than an infinite and eternal GOOD WILL: Benevolence must, therefore, constitute the Beatitude or Heaven of all dependent Beings, however infinitely diversified through several Departments and Subordinations, agreeable to the several Natures and Capacities of Creatures.
GOD has appointed human
Power
and human
Wealth,
as a ready and sufficient Fund for human
Want
and
Weakness;
to which Fund, therefore, they have as good a Right to resort, as any other Creditors have to respective Trust or Deposits; for, though Poverty and Weakness are not Creditors, by the Laws of Man, they are Creditors by the eternal Laws of Nature and Equity; and must, here, or hereafter, bring their Debtors to account.
Every Man, when he becomes a Member of this or that Society, makes a Deposit of three several Sorts of Trusts, That of his LIFE, that of his LIBERTY, and that of his PROPERTY.
Now as every Man, in his separate or independent State, has by Nature the absolute Disposal of his Property, he can convey the Disposal thereof, to Society, as amply and absolutely as he was, in his separate Right, entitled thereto.
This, however, cannot be said of his Life, or of his Liberty. He has no Manner of Right to take away his own Life; neither to depart from his own Liberty: He cannot therefore convey to others, a Right and Authority which he hath not in himself.
The Question then occurs, by what Right it is, that the Legislative and executive Powers of Community, appoint some Persons to Death, and others to Imprisonment? My Answer is short, and follows:
It is the Right, perhaps the Duty, of every Man, to defend his Life, Liberty, and Property, and to kill or bind the Attempters. This Right he can, therefore, convey; and, on such Conveyance, it becomes the Right and Duty of the Trustees of Society, to put to Death, or imprison all who take away, or attempt the Life, Liberty, or Property of any of its Members.
This Right, however, extends to
Criminal Matters,
only; and it does not, yet appear to me, upon what Reason, or right Rule, founded in Nature or Policy, the several Societies of Mankind have agreed to deliver up their Members, to Slavery, to Stripes, Tortures, or Imprisonment, for Matters
merely Civil,
such as
Debts.
Several of the States of
Greece,
though accounting the rest of the World as Barbarians; and even the
Roman Republic,
during the Times of its most boasted Policy and Freedom, gave up Insolvent Debtors (without enquiring into the Causes or Occasions of such Insolvency) as Slaves, or absolute Property, into the Hands of their Creditors, to be sold at Will, or put to Labour, or starved, macerated or tortured, in order to give Value, in Vengeance, which they could not give in Coin, or other equivalent Commodities.
The
Jewish
or
Mosaic
Law, though allowing sufficiently, as
CHRIST
says, for
the Hardness of that People's Hearts,
yet gave perfect Enlargement to all
Jews
who were Bondmen, and perfect Remission to all
Jews
who were personal Debtors, on every seventh or sabbatical Year: And on every seventh sabbatical Year, or Jubilee, all Prisons were thrown open; all Slaves, though Foreigners or Aliens, set at Liberty; and even the Lands were enfranchised, however mortgaged, or labouring under Debt and Execution; that all Things, animate or inanimate, might have an Earnest of that Immunity, and perfect Freedom, which God originally intended, and keeps in Store for his Creatures.
The Laws of
Egypt
permitted no Member to deprive the Public of the Life, Liberty, or Labour, of any other Member, except he were a Criminal, not fitting to live, or to be suffered to walk at large. In all Cases of Debtor and Creditor, they equitably appointed Value for Value, as far as the Substance of the Debtor could reach; and, in Case of Insufficiency, the insolvent Party was obliged to leave, in Pledge, the
Mummies,
or preserved Bodies of his deceased Ancestors, till, by Industry or good Fortune, either He, or his Posterity, should be enabled to redeem them. A Matter of refined, as well as charitable Policy; as nothing was held more infamous, among the
Egyptians,
than their Inability to produce the Mummies of their Forefathers.
The Laws of
Holland,
by their late Qualifications, seem to acknowledge the Iniquity, or Inadequateness, of depriving a Man of the
Possibility of earning,
merely because he has not an
immediate Ability to pay.
Sensible, therefore, that all Men are Debtors to GOD, and reciprocally Debtors and Creditors to each other, they have ordained, that He, who imprisons an insolvent Debtor, shall pay the proper Penalty, of his Malevolence or Indiscretion, by maintaining the Party, from whom he takes the Ability of maintaining himself.
It must be admitted, that, were our Laws less severe with Respect to Debtors; were People less afraid of a Jail on failure of Payment; there would be less Credit, and, consequently, less Dealing, in this, so wonderously wealthy, and trading a Nation. But if our Credit were less, should not our Extravagance lessen also? Should we see such princely Tables among People of the lower Class; should so much Claret, Spirits, and Ale, intoxicate a Kingdom; should we see the Value of a
German
Prince's Ransom gorgeously attiring each of our Belle Dames, if neither Merchant, Butcher, Brewer, Laceman, Mercer, Milliner, nor Taylor would trust?
Many of our poor City Dealers are yearly undone, with their Families, by crediting Persons, who are
privileged not to pay,
or whose Remoteness, or Power, places them beyond the Reach of the Law. For, by the Return of
non invent.
generally made upon Writs, one would be apt to imagine, that no single Sub-Sheriff knew of any such Thing, as a Man of Fortune, within his respective County, throughout the Kingdom of
Great Britain.
When I was last at
Paris,
I had the Honour to be introduced to Messieurs
Thimble
and
Goose,
two Taylors of Quality. In the Course of Conversation, it happened to turn, as usual, on the Dulness of the Times, the Deadness of Trade, and Delays of Payment. Says Monsieur
Thimble,
I had the Misfortune to make Interest for the new Cloathing of the last Regiments that were transported to
Canada.
But Interest was, again, to be made for the Payment; and, before that could be done, the Officers were shipped off, with greater Value of my Gold and Silver on their Backs, than, I am sure, they carried of their own in their Pockets. Ambition, cried Monsieur
le Goose,
Ambition has brought me to the very Brink of Ruin: I scorned to work for any thing under the Degree of Nobility, and be pox'd to me! and the Nobility are a Sort of People, whom we can never set our Eyes on, except at the Time we are fitting on their Clothes.
Before Money became the Medium of Commerce, the simple Business of the World was carried on by Truck, or the Commutation of one Commodity for another. But, when Men consented to fix certain rateable Values upon Money, as a ready and portable Equivalent for all Sorts of Effects, Credit was consequently introduced, by the Engagements of some, to pay so much Money in lieu of such Commodities, or to deliver such or such Commodities on the Advance of so much Money; and States found it their Interest to support such public Credit, by enforcing the Performance of said Engagements.
By the Common-Law of
England,
no Person, except the King, could take the Body of another in Execution for Debt; neither was this Prerogative of the Crown extended to the Subject till the Statute of
Marlbridge,
ch. 23. in the Reign of
Henry
III.
Many contract Debts, through Vanity, or Intemperance; or borrow Money, or take up Goods, with the Intention of Thieves and Robbers, never to make Return. When such suffer, they suffer deservedly, in Expiation of their Guilt. But there are unavoidable Damages by Water, by Fire, the Crush of Power, oppressive Landlords, and more oppressive Lawsuits, Death of Cattle, Failure of Crop, Failure of Payment in others; with thousands of such like Casualties, whereby Men may become bankrupt, and yet continue blameless. And, in all such Cases, one would think that the present Ruin was sufficient Calamity, without the Exertion of Law to make that Ruin irreparable.
As all the Members of a Community are interested in the Life, Liberty, and Labours of each other; He, who puts the Rigour of our Laws in Execution, by detaining an insolvent Brother in Gaol, is guilty of a fourfold Injury; first, he robs the Community of the Labours of their Brother; secondly, he robs his Brother of all Means of retrieving his shattered Fortune; thirdly, he deprives himself of the Possibility of Payment; and, lastly, he lays an unnecessary Burden on the Public, who, in Charity, must maintain the Member whom he, in his Cruelty, confines.
However, since the Severity of Law is such, that He, whose Misfortunes have rendered him insolvent, must make
Satisfaction, (for so the Savages esteem it)
by surrendering his Body to Durance for Life; it is surely incumbent on our Legislators and Governors to make the Condition of the unhappy Sufferers as little grievous as may be.
But this most Christian Duty, this most humane of all Cares, is yet to come. When a Debtor is delivered up into the Phangs of his Gaoler, he is consigned to absolute and arbitrary Slavery; and Woe be to the Wretch whose Poverty may not have left him a
Sop
for
Cerberus.
How more than miserable must be the State of those unhappy Men who are shut in from all possible Redress or Appeal against the despotic Treatment of their savage Keepers, whose Hearts are habitually hardened to all Sense of Remorse, and whose Ears are rendered callous by incessant Groans.
We are credibly informed, that it is usual, with such Keepers, to amass considerable Fortunes from the Wrecks of the Wretched; to squeeze them by exorbitant Charges and illicit Demands, as Grapes are squeezed in a Vine Press, while one Drop remains; and then to huddle them together, into naked Walls and windowless Rooms; having got all they can, and nothing further to regard, save the Return of their lifeless Bodies to their Creditors.
How many of these Keepers exact, from their distressed Prisoners, seven and eight Shillings per Week, for Rooms that would not rent, at a Third of that Sum, in any other Part of this City. At times, Nine of those wretched Prisoners are driven to kennel together in a Hovel fit only to stable a Pair of Horses, while many unoccupied Apartments are locked up from use. Even a Sufficiency of the common Element of Water is refused to their Necessities, an Advantage which the Felons in Newgate enjoy. Public and private Benefactions are dissipated or disposed of, at the Pleasure of the Keepers, regardless of the Intention or Order of the Donors. And the Apartments, appointed to these miserable Men, are generally damp or shattered in the Flooring, and exposed, by Breach or Want of Windows, to the Inclemency of Night Air, and all the Rigour of the Seasons.
But what avail their Complaints, if the Legislature have not authorized, or made it the Duty of some especial Magistrates to examine into and redress these crying Abuses?
But, tell me, continued Mr.
Fenton,
were there any Prisoners of Consideration among the confined Debtors? A few, Sir, of Note, and many who had been well to pass in the World. Among these, indeed, it was, that every Scene and Species of Misery was displayed. There you might see, as you have said, numerous Families of Wretches, whose thin and tattered Garments but ill defended their shivering Bodies from the Inclemency of Elements, that blew through shattered Windows, or came pouring from unstaunched Roofs.
These People fared incomparably worse than those of the vulgar Herd; for, being ashamed to beg at the Grates, they had nothing to subsist on, save their scanty Portion of such Charities as happened to be sent in, from Time to Time, and this scarcely supplied them with a sufficiency of Water, black Bread, and Offal; while the Recollection of their former Affluence added sharp and bitter Poignancy to the Sense of their present Wants.    But, here comes my Pupil, he will be more particular, on Scenes with which his Heart was so meltingly affected.
Harry
then entered, with Mrs.
Clement
caressing him on the one Side, and his old Dependant
Ned
hanging about him on the other.
As soon as
Clement
and his
Arabella
had embraced, and that all were settled and seated. Well,
Harry,
said Mr.
Fenton,
will you favour us with some Account of your Expedition? Have you e'er a pretty Story for me, my
Harry?
Several Stories, Sir, said
Harry,
that were sweet pretty Stories, when I heard them; but, Mr.
Clement
had better tell them; they would be sadly bungled if they came through my Hands, Dada. The Company will make Allowances, replied Mr.
Fenton;
let us have these Stories in your own Way,
Harry,
just as your Memory may happen to serve you.
On the second Day, Dada, as my Tutor and I were walking in the Court Yard of the Fleet Prison, who should I spy but my old Master, Mr.
Vindex,
walking, very sad, to and again by the Wall. He was so pale and shabby, and so fallen away, that I did not rightly know him, till I looked at him very earnestly. My Heart then began to soften and warm toward the poor Man; for it told me, that something very sorrowful must have happened, before he could have been brought to that Condition. So, I went up to him, with a Face, I believe, as melancholy as his own.
How do you do, good Mr.
Vindex?
said I. I should be glad to see you, if I did not see you look so sad. He then stared at me for some Time, and, at length, remembering me, he looked concerned, and turned away to shun me; but I took him lovingly by the Hand, and said, you must not leave me, Mr.
Vindex;
won't you know your old Scholar,
Harry Fenton?
Yes, says he, casting down his mournful Eyes, I know you now, Master; I know I used you basely, and I know why you are come; but, reproach me, and insult me, as much as you please, all is welcome now, since I cannot lie lower, till I am laid in the Earth.
I do not mean to insult you, this Tear will witness for me, that I do not mean to insult you, my dear Mr.
Vindex,
and so I wiped my Eye. Here are twenty Guineas, to put warm Clothes upon you in this cold Weather. Little and low as I am myself, I will try to do something better for you, and so give me one Kiss in Token that we are Friends.
The poor dear Man then opened his broad Eyes, in a wild Stare upon me, with a Look that was made up, Half of Joy, and Half of Shame. He then kneeled down, as I supposed, that I might reach to kiss him, and taking me into his Arms, you are not born of Woman, you are an Angel, an Angel, he cried; and so he fell a crying, and cried so sadly, that I could not, for my Heart, but keep him Company.
I did all I could to pacify and make him cheerful, and getting him up at last, you must not part with me Mr.
Vindex,
said I, we must dine and spend the Day together. Here is Mr.
Clement,
my Tutor, you and he too must be Friends.
I then led him, by the Hand, into a large ground Room that Mr.
Close,
the chief Keeper, had appointed for us; and I ordered Dinner to be hastened and brought up. As soon as we were all seated, I began to laugh and joke, after my foolish Way, in order to make poor Mr.
Vindex
merry. When I found that it would not do, Mr.
Vindex,
said I, be so kind to let me know what the Money may come to for which you are confined? A terrible Sum, indeed, my Darling, said he, no less than a hundred and fifty two Pounds. I then put my Hand in my Pocket, and, taking out two Bills and a little Matter of Money that made up the Sum, I put it into his Hand, saying, my Friend shall never lie in Gaol for such a Trifle as this.
Having looked for some Time at the Bills, with Amazement, he turned to my Tutor with a doubtful and shamed Face; is this young Gentleman, Sir, said he, duely authorized to dispose of such vast Matters as these? He is, said Mr.
Clement,
he is the Carver and Disposer of his Father's Fortune at Pleasure; and I am confident that his Father will think himself doubly paid in the Use that his noble Son has made of his Privilege this Day.
A Gleam then, like that of Sunshine, broke through his sad Countenance, as through the Clouds of a dark Day; and, are you the one, he cried, are you the one, Master
Harry,
whom I treated so barbarously? You may forgive me, my little Cherubim, you, indeed, may forgive me, but, I never, I never shall forgive myself. O, Mr.
Vindex,
said I, I would very nearly undergo the same Whipping again, to do you twice the Kindness, and make you love me twice as much as you now love me.
Dinner was now served, and, calling for Wine, I filled him a Bumper, in a large Glass, which he drank to the Health of my glorious Dada, as he called you, Sir. Upon this, we grew very merry and friendly among one another, and, when Dinner was over, I begged him to tell me how he came to be put into Confinement.
O, Master
Harry,
he cried, I have suffered all that I have suffered, very justly, very justly for my harsh and cruel Usage of you, Master
Harry.
After the Affair of the Hobgoblins, as you know, the Shame to which I was put by my Fright and by my Scourging, began to be whispered, and then to be noised about the Town. The Boys, at length, caught the Rumour, and began to hoot at me; and the more I chastised them, the more they gathered about me, and shouted after me, a Rod for the Flogger, a Rod for the Flogger!
No Disease is so deadly, no Blasting so baneful, as Contempt to a Man, in the Way of his Profession. My Boys grew disorderly, and behaved themselves, in School, without Respect to my Person, or Regard to my Government. Even my Intimates shunned me, and would cast at me a side Glance of smiling Scorn as they passed. My School then melted from me like Snow in a Fog. Even my Boarders forsook me. I stood at a high Rent; my Effects were seized by the Landlord. It was in vain that I solicited Payment from the Parents of my Scholars. No one who was indebted to me, would give me a Penny; while all that I owed came like a tumbling House upon me; and so I was cast into this Prison, from whence your Bounty has set me free.
My poor broken hearted Wife would have accompanied me to Gaol; but, as I had not wherewithal to give her a Morsel of Bread, I sent her to an old Aunt who had the Humanity to take her in.
Alas, alas, poor Mr.
Vindex,
said I, had I guessed any Part of the Mischiefs that our unlucky Pranks have brought upon you, I would have put both my Hands into the Furnace of
Nebuchadnezzar,
rather than have Act or Part in such a Wickedness. For, herein we acted the Fable of the Frogs and the Boys, that which was
Play
to us, was
Death
to you, Mr.
Vindex.
In Conscience, now, we are indebted to you for every Misfortune we caused you; and, as you are not yet paid for the Half of your Sufferings, I here give you my Hand and Word to make up a hundred and fifty Pounds more for you; and, for this, I will not accept the smallest Thanks, as I think it is no more than an Act of common Honesty. And I, cried Mr.
Fenton,
I hold myself indebted to you a thousand Pounds, my noble
Harry,
for that single Sentiment. That's well, that's well, Dada, cried
Harry,
(leaping up and clapping his Hands) I shall now be clear in the World with all my poor Creditors.
Thus, Dada, continued he, it rejoiced my Heart, greatly, to send poor Mr.
Vindex
away, in such Triumph; while my Tutor and I went two or three Doors off, to see a mighty pretty young Creature who was said to be confined with her ancient Father. And I will tell you their Story, with two or three other Stories, more on account of the Incidents that happened while we were there, than of any Thing else that was wonderful or uncommon in them.
On tapping at the Door, we were desired to walk in, and saw a Female, with her Back to us, waving Bone Lace on a Cushion; while an elderly Man, with Spectacles on, read to her in
Thomas a Kempis.
They both rose to salute us. Mr.
Clement
then stepped up, and, seeing what they were about, cried, God cannot but prosper your Work, good People, since you employ your Time to his Purposes, both on Earth and in Heaven. As an Earnest of his Kindness to you, he sends you, by us, a considerable Charity, which you shall receive as soon as you inform us who, and what you are, and how you came here? Blessed be the Messengers of my God, cried out the Father, whether they come with happy or with heavy Tidings, I say with old
Eli, It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good.
O Dada, I was quite charmed, when the Daughter turned to me. There was such a Sweetness, such a heavenly Harmlessness in her Face, that I could have kissed her, and kissed her, again and again.
As I had brought a Glass and the Remainder of our Bottle with me, we all got about a Board that was Half Stool and Half Table, and, after a Round or two, the good Man began his Story.
My Father's Name was
Samuel Stern.
He had a clear Estate of nine hundred and fifty Pounds a Year in
Sussex,
and had, by my Mother, three Daughters and four Sons, of whom I was the second.
My Father, unhappily, was a Loyalist, and when the Troubles broke out between King
Charles
and the Parliament, he took up all the Money he could, at any Interest, and raised a Company, at his own Cost, which he headed on the Part of his Royal Master.
After some successful Skirmishes, his Head was split in two by the Broad-sword of a Trooper, at the Battle of
Naisby.
Immediately, all our Servants forsook us, each carrying away with them whatever came to Hand; and, quickly after, the Soldiers of the Commonwealth came, carried off all the Cattle, and left nothing of our House, except the bare Walls.
In the mean time we, poor Children, huddled together into the Garden, and, there separating, ran and crept under Bushes and Hedges, as so many Chickens endeavouring to gain Shelter from the Kite.
As soon as the Noise of the Tumult was over, we rose and looked about fearfully, and, getting together again, we helped one another through the Garden Hedge, and made, as fast as we could, to the Cottage of a neighbouring Farmer who had been our Father's Tenant. Here we were received coldly, and fared but very hardly for that Night. On the next Day however, in order to get quit of us, as I suppose, the Man went among our Relations, and prevailed on one to take a Son, and on another to take a Daughter, till we were all divided among them; and so we entered on a kind of Service to our Kindred, a Service, as I believe, that is found, on Experience, to be much harder and more insulting than any Service to a Stranger.
I forgot to tell you, Gentlemen, that our Mother deceased before our Father engaged in Arms, insomuch that we became Orphans in all Respects. I fell to the Share of an Uncle by my Mother's Side. He had a small Estate of about a hundred and twenty Pounds yearly Income, with one Son, and a Daughter whom I thought very lovely.
My Uncle appointed me Overseer of his Labourers, as also his occasional Clerk, for casting Accounts, and inditing his Letters,
&c.
but, when it was intimated to him that there was a secret Liking between his Daughter and me, he called me aside, and, taking up a Book of profane Poems, he kissed it and swore, by the Contents thereof, that, if ever I married his Daughter, he would not give us a Groat.
If you ever knew what Love was, said he to Mr.
Clement,
you must know that it breaks over stronger Fences than these. In short, we were wedded and turned out of the House, without any thing to live upon, except about the Value of twenty Pounds, in small Matters, which had been given to my Wife, from Time to Time, by lady
Goodly,
her God-mother.
We made the best of our Way to
London.
My Wife understood Needlework, and, as I knew that my Father-in-law was quite irreconcilable, I joined myself to a House Painter, to whom I gave my Time for nothing, on Condition of his giving me a Sight into his Business.
In the third Year, my dear Wife brought this poor Creature into the World; but, happily, she did not encumber Mankind with any more of our wretched and depending Progeny.
All our Care and Delight was fixed on this our little Daughter, and we thought nothing of any Pains or Labours that might serve to introduce her, like herself, into the World.
As soon as
Charles
the IId. had ascended the Throne, our Relations were fully assured that we should be restored to our ancient Rights and Possessions; and they contributed, as it were for their own Credit, to set us forth in a suitable Manner for appearing at Court. There accordingly we attended, from time to time, for the Space of twelve Months, and got a Number of woeful Memorials presented to his Majesty; but his Majesty was so deeply engaged in his Pleasures, or so fearful of offending the Enemies of his House, that he gave no Attention to our Wrongs. There may also be something in the Breasts of the Great that excites them to Acts of Bounty, rather than Acts of Justice; for these, as they apprehend, might be accepted as Matter of Debt and not as Matter of Favour.
Being tired of a fruitless Suit, I returned to my former Employment, and, by Industry and Frugality, I lived with my little Family quite happy and contented.
About ten Months ago, two Men came to our Lodgings. The one was in a rich Livery, and, having enquired for my Daughter, presented her with a Note to this effect,  
Lady
Diana Templar
sends
Diana Stern
the enclosed Bill of twenty five Pounds, in order to put her into some little Way of Livelihood.
  As my poor dear Child had no Cause to suspect any Fraud or evil Intention in the Case, she desired the Men to return her most humble Thanks and Duty to her Ladyship, and away they went.
As this Lady was a distant Relation of my Wife's Father, my Daughter, in a few Days, dressed herself in her best, and went to return Thanks to her Ladyship in Person, but was told that she was gone to her Seat in the Country.
In the mean time she laid out her supposed Bounty in furnishing a little front Shop with some millinary Wares, and was already beginning to get some Custom, when, one Evening, two Bailiffs entered laid an Action upon her, and, taking her up in their Arms, hurried her into a Coach that drove up to the Door.
My Wife and I had rushed out, on hearing our Child shriek, and seeing a Coach set off with her at a great Rate, we ran after as fast as we could, shouting and screaming, and crying, stop the Coach, stop the Coach, a Rape, a Rape! At length a bold Fellow, who was passing, caught one of the Horses by the Bridle, and, while the Coachman lashed at him, he took out his Knife and cut the Reins in two. A Mob then began to gather, whereupon a well dressed Man, who was in the Coach, leaped out and made his Escape; but the Coachman was not so lucky, the People pulled him from the Box, and having beaten and kicked him, they dragged him through the Kennel.
Mean while we got our Child out, and then the Mob overturned the Coach, and, jumping upon it, broke and dashed it all to Pieces. We then thought that we had nothing further to apprehend, and, taking our Child between us, we turned back and walked homeward; but alas, we were not permitted to enter; the two Bailiffs met us, and, producing their Writ, again arrested our Daughter at the Suit, as they said, of
Jonathan Delvil,
Esq
for the Sum of twenty five Pounds which he had lent her on such a Day. So they conducted her here, while my Wife and I accompanied her, weeping and sobbing all the Way.
I then took these poor Apartments to cover us from the Weather, and as my Wife grew suddenly sick and faint, I hastened back to our Lodgings, and had our Bedding brought hither.
It was now evident that the pretended Gift of Lady
Templar
was no other than a diabolical Scheme of the Villain
Delvil,
to get the Person of my Darling within his Fangs; and I cursed my own Stupidity for not perceiving it at first; but blessed be my God however, in all Events, that my Lamb was still innocent, was still unsullied.
What with Grief and the Fright together, my dear Wife took to her Bed, from whence she never rose, but expired on the fifth Day, blessing and pressing her Daughter to her Bosom. My poor Infant then fell as dead beside her Mother, and could not be recovered from her Fit in many Hours; and, indeed, it was then the Wish and the Prayer of my Soul, that we might all be laid and forgotten in one Grave together.
As soon as my Darling was recovered however, I again wished to live for her sake, that I might not leave her without a Comforter or Protector, in the midst of a merciless and wicked World.
In order to pay the Nursekeeper, the Doctor, and Apothecary, as also to defray the funeral Expenses, I left my Child with the Nursekeeper, and, going to our former Lodgings, I sold all her millinary Matters at something under a third of prime Cost; and having discharged the Lodgings and paied my Gaol Debts, I prepared to lay my precious Deposit in the Womb of that Earth which is one Day to render her back, incorruptible to Eternity.
When the Corps was carrying out at the Door, my Child fell once more into Fits, and I was divided and quite distracted about what I should do, whether to stay with the Living, or pay my Duty to the Dead. But I will no longer detain you with melancholy Matters, since all worldly Griefs, with all worldly Joys also, must shortly be done away.
As soon as I understood that Lady
Templar
was returnned to Town, I waited upon her, and giving her an Abridgment of our manifold Misfortunes, I produced the Note that had been written in her Name; but she coldly replied, that it was not her Hand, and that she was not answerable for the Frauds or Villanies of others.
Meanwhile, my dear Girl accused herself as the Cause of all our Calamities, and pined away, on that Account, as pale as the Sheets she lay in. She was also so enfeebled, by her faintish and sick Fits, that she was not able to make a third of her usual Earnings; and as I, on my Part, was also disqualified from labouring in my Profession, since I did not dare to leave my Child alone and unsheltered, we were reduced to a State of the greatest Extremity.
One Day, Word was brought me that a Gentleman, a few Doors off, desired to speak with me; and as they, who are sinking, catch at any thing for their Support, my Heart fluttered in the Hope of some happy Reverse. Accordingly I followed the Messenger. His Appearance, in Dress and Person, was altogether that of the Gentleman.
He ordered all others out of the Room, and requesting me to sit beside him, in a half whispering Voice he began: I am come, Mr.
Stern,
from one whom you have great Reason to account your greatest Enemy, I come from Mr.
Delvil,
at whose Suit your Daughter now lies in Prison. I started  Be patient, Sir, he said. He knows your Distresses, he knows all your Wants, he knows also that he is the Author of them; yet I tell you that he feels them, as if they were his own, and that it was not his Enmity, but his Love that occasioned them.
He depends on his old Uncle
Dimmock
for a vast Fortune in Expectation. He saw your Daughter and loved her; he saw her again and loved her to Madness. He enquired her Family, her Character, and found that he had nothing to expect from any licentious Proposal. He feared, however, that all must love her, as he did, and, to prevent other Pirates, he made use of the Stratagem which, contrary to his Intentions, has brought you here. He never meant any thing dishonourable by your Daughter. Had he carried her clear off, you might all have been happy together at this Day; and, if you consent, he will marry her here, in the Presence of a few Witnesses, who shall be sworn to Secrecy till his Uncle's Death; and he will instantly pay you down three hundred Pounds, in Recompence for your Sufferings, and will settle one hundred Pounds Annuity on your Child for Life.
I must own that, to one in my Circumstances, this Proposal had something very tempting in it. But who is this Mr.
Delvil,
said I, I know him not, I never saw him? --I am the Man, Sir, said he. I would have discharged my Action as I came to this Place; but I dare not permit your Daughter to get out of my Custody; for, at the Loss of my Fortune, at the Loss of my Life, I am determined that no other Man living shall possess her. I then promised him that I would make a faithful Narration to my Child of all that had passed, but told him, at the same time, that I would wholly subscribe to her Pleasure; and so we parted.
As soon as I represented this Matter to my
Diana,
O no, my Papa, she cried, it is impossible, it never can be, I would do any thing, suffer any thing, but this, for your Relief. Would you act the Marriage of the Lamb and the Wolf in the Fable? If such have been the Consequences of this Gentleman's Affection for us, what have we not to expect from the Effects of his Aversion? I would prefer any Kind of Death to a Life with such a Man. And then, my Mother, she cried, and burst into Tears) my dear Mother whom he has murdered! though he were worth Half the World, and would marry me publicly in the Face of the other Half; it will not be, it cannot be, indeed, my Papa!
Hereupon I writ Mr.
Delvil
almost a literal Account of my Daughter's Answer. It is nearly five Weeks since this happened, and we have not heard any thing further from him.
In this time, however, we got acquainted with a Family at the next Door, whose Converse has been a great Consolation to us. There is a Father and Mother with seven small Children, Boys and Girls; they are very worthy People, and of noble Descent, but how they contrive to live at all I can't conceive, for they have no visible Means of making a Penny. Had we not known them, we should have thought ourselves the poorest of all Creatures. We must own them more deserving of your Charity than we are.
Here poor Mr.
Stern
ended; and you can't think, Dada, how my Heart leapt with Love toward him, on his recommending others as more deserving than himself. So I resolved, at once, what to do, and taking two 50
l.
Notes from my Pocketbook, you shall not be under the Necessity, Mr.
Stern,
says I, of marrying your pretty Lamb here to the ugly Wolf, so here is fifty Pounds to pay your Action, and Fees, and other small Debts.
On taking the Note, Dada, he looked at it very earnestly, and when he saw it was a true Note, he opened his Eyes and his Mouth so wide, and stood so stiff, without stirring Hand or Foot, that he put me in mind of
Lot
's Wife who was turned into a Pillar of Salt. However, I did not seem to mind him, but turning to his Daughter, and showing her the other Note, Miss
Diana,
says I, here is fifty Pounds for you also, in order to set you up in your little Shop again, but you shall not have it without a certain Condition; what Condition, Master, said she smiling; the Condition, says I, of putting your Arms about my Neck, and giving me one or two sweet Kisses. She then looked earnestly at me, with Eyes swimming in Pleasure, and starting suddenly to me, and catching me to her Bosom, she kissed my Lips, and my Forehead, and my Head, again and again, and then set up as lamentable and loud a Cry, as if her Father had lain a Corpse before her.
Mr.
Stern,
then, lifted up his Eyes, and dropping on his Knees, O my God, he cried, how bountiful art thou to a Wretch who is not worthy the least of all thy Mercies! hereupon, the Daughter turned, and, seeing the Posture of her Father, she fell on her Knees before him, and throwing her Arms about him, he folded her in his also, and they wept plentifully upon each other.
How comes it, Dada, that Crying should be so catching? However it be, Mr.
Clement
and I could not contain, and I shall love him the better during Life, for the Tears that he shed on that Occasion.
On hearing a smart Rapping, Mr.
Stern
rose and opened the Door, where a Footman, almost breathless, delivered him a Letter. The Letter was to the Purpose that Mr.
Delvil
was ill of a Quinsy, that he had but a few Hours to live, and requested Mr.
Stern
to bring his Daughter to him, that, by Marriage, he might give her a lawful Title to his Fortune. No, Papa, cried
Diana,
living or dead, nothing shall ever bribe me to give my Hand to a Man who has had a Hand in the Death of my dearest Mother.
Mr.
Clement,
however, thought it advisable that Mr.
Stern
should attend the Messenger, to see if Mr.
Delvil
was really ill, or whether this might not be some new contrived Treachery.
This was a Day of Successes to poor Mr.
Stern.
We had promised to stay with his
Diana
till his Return; and he had not been long gone till some one tapped at the Door. I opened it, and saw an exceeding old and reverend Man; he was dressed all in black, and his white Head looked like Snow on the Feathers of the Raven. Is
Tom Stern
here? said he. No, Sir, said I, he is gone into Town. I thought he was a Prisoner; no, Sir, it is not he, but his Daughter, who is under Confinement. Will you give a feeble old Man leave to sit with you, Gentlemen? and so down he sat. Come here to me, Child, says he to
Diana,
are you a Daughter of
Tom Stern?
I am, Sir, so please you. And what was your Mother's Name?
Anne Roche,
Sir; but, alas! she is not living, I was the Cause of her Death; she broke her Heart, good Sir, on my being put to Gaol. I hope, Child, said the old Gentleman, that you were not imprisoned for any thing that was naughty. No, Sir, no, cried Mr.
Clement,
it was her Honesty alone that brought and kept her here; had she been less virtuous, she might have been at Liberty and flaunting about in her Coach.
The old Man then put on his Spectacles, and ordering her to draw nearer, he took a Hand in each of his, and looking intently in her Face, what is your Name, my Dear? said he;
Diana,
honoured Sir. That is a pretty and chaste Name, for an unchristian Name. Indeed,
Diana,
you are a sweet Babe, and the prettiest little Prisoner that ever I saw. I will pay all your Debts, and give you a thousand Pounds over, if you will come along with me, and be my Prisoner,
Diana.
Ah, Sir, cried the Girl, it is too much to have broken the Heart of one Parent already; I would not leave my dear Father for any Man with all the Money in all the World. You do not leave your Father, he cried, by going with me,
Diana.
I am your true Father, the Father of
Nanny Roche,
the Father of her who bore you, your own Grandfather, my
Diana.
Here she sunk on her Knees, between his Knees, begging and beseeching his Blessing; while his Hands and Eyes were lifted in Prayer over her. He then raised her, and placing her gently on his Knee, clasped her in his aged Arms; while she threw hers about his Neck, and joining her Cheek to his, sobbed aloud and poured her Tears into his Bosom. The old Gentleman, however, did not express his Concern by Word, or Sob, or even any Change of his Countenance, and yet his Tears fell fast, down his reverend and delighted Features, upon his Grandchild.
This, Dada, was a very pleasing, though a very affecting Sight. As soon as the Height of their Passion was something abated, Miss
Diana
turned her Eye toward me, and said, You were pleased, my Grand-Papa, to promise that you would pay my Debts; but that is done already. This Angel here was sent to prevent all others, and he further presented me with this Bill of 50
l.
to set me up in a better Shop than I kept before.
I rejoice, cried the old Man, I rejoice to find that so much of Heaven is still left upon Earth. But you, my
Diana,
are now in a Condition, rather to give Charity than receive it from any. Your dear Uncle
Jeremy,
who traded to the
West Indies,
lately died of the Smallpox on his Passage homeward. You are the Heir of his Fortunes, and the Heir of my Fortune; you are the whole and sole Lady of all our Possessions. But, tell me, how much did this young Gentleman advance in your Favour? A hundred Pounds, Sir.
He then took out a Bank Note of a hundred Pounds, and having offered it to me, I did not dare to refuse it, for fear of offending the Honour of the respectable old Gentleman; so I held it in my Hand after a doubting Manner. My dear Miss
Diana,
says I, I will not be put to the Pain of taking this back again, but on the Condition of your telling me to whom I shall give it? O, she cried out instantly, to the Babies, to the sweet Babies at the next Door; I wish to Heaven I had as much more to add to it for their Sakes.
I then enquired the Name of her favourite Family at the next Door, and being told that it was
Ruth,
I looked over my List, and found that Mr.
Ruth
was in for above seven hundred Pounds. This grieved me very much, as such a Sum nearly amounted to the Half of our whole Stock. However, I comforted myself with the Hope that God would send some one else, to make up to this poor Family what should be wanting on my Part.
Mr.
Stern
just then returned. I beg Pardon, said he, Gentlemen, for detaining you so long, but I could not avoid it. The unhappy Man is actually dying, a very terrible Death, indeed, in his full Strength, and almost in his full Health, stifling and gasping for Air, which the swelling of his Glands will not suffer to pass.
As soon as I entered, he beckoned to me, and put this Paper, sealed, into my Hand. And again, observing that I was agitated and deeply concerned for the State under which he laboured, he reached out his Hand to me, and, grasping my right Hand, put this Ring upon my Finger.    This Paper contains, under his Hand and Seal, a Discharge of the Action which he laid upon my Daughter, as also a Conveyance to us, of the Cash Notes enclosed, amounting to three hundred Pounds, in Consideration, as he recites, of our Losses and unjust Sufferings. And so, my dear Master
Fenton,
I here return you your 100
l.
with all possible Acknowledgments, and a Sense of the Obligation that will never leave me, during Life.
Sir, said I, you must excuse me, I am already payed. That Gentleman, yonder, compell'd me to accept of the very Sum you offer.
Mr.
Stern
then started, and, turning, he saw his Uncle; and, eying him inquisitively, at length recollected who he was. He then stepped up and, falling on his Knees before him, O, Sir, he cried, your Pardon, your Pardon! 'Tis all I presume to ask, I dare not hope for your Blessing.
Tom,
said the old Gentleman, I wanted to be even with you, I wanted to seduce your Daughter, as you seduced mine. But your Daughter,
Tom,
though come of very rebellious Parents, would not be seduced. Howsomever, as I have taken a liking to her, she must come along with me, whether she will or no. And, as
Jacob
said to
Joseph
concerning
Ephraim
and
Manasseh,
she shall be mine and not thine,
Tom;
and my Name and the Name of my Fathers shall be named upon her, according to her Inheritance. But, if you have any Affection for this my Child,
Tom,
and are unwilling to part with her, you may follow her, and welcome.
Soon after, we got up, and, having congratulated this happy Family on the Blessing of their Meeting and Reconciliation, I stepped to the old Gentleman, and, catching him about the Neck, tenderly took my Leave of him, as I did also of Mr.
Stern.
But, when I went to take leave of the fair
Diana,
she drew some Steps backward, and, her Eyes and sweet Features beginning to swell, she again run forward, and catching me in her dear Arms, O, my Darling, my Darling, my Darling, she cried, am I then going to lose you, it may be never to see you more! were it but once in a Week, in a Month, in a Year to behold you, even that would keep me alive for all the Remainder. O my best, my most generous, my first Preserver, it is you who might be the Seducer, who might make me and others to run after you bare-foot. But if we must part, my little Angel, do but promise to know me in Heaven, and there your poor
Diana
will meet you, never to part any more.
What could I say or do, Dada, in answer to the dear Girl? my Heart swelled, almost to bursting, while she caressed and wept over me. At length, with Words, as well as my Tears would give me leave to pronounce them, I demanded the Name of the Place to which she was going, and promised to pay her a Visit as soon as possibly I could. We then parted very melancholy, notwithstanding all our Success; and, going out, I wiped my Eyes, and begged Mr.
Clement
to order Tea and Coffee, with a comfortable Entertainment for the Family, at the next Door, while I should go in and introduce myself as well as I could.
Having tapped gently at the Door, it was opened by a little ragged Boy of about five Years old. Mrs.
Ruth
sat full in my view, and her three little Daughters stood before her, while she examined them in the Old Testament Questions of who was the first Man, and the wisest Man, and the strongest Man, and the oldest Man, and above all, the Man after God's own Heart?
Mrs.
Ruth
was a fine Woman, and had a great deal of humbled Dignity about her. I bowed to her as I entered, and, going familiarly up, I took her by the Hand and kissed it. Allow me, Madam, said I, to introduce a little Neighbour to you; I lodge within a few Doors, and shall think myself happy in being acquainted in your Family. Alas, my Dear, says she, there are very few who seek acquaintance with Calamity. They, who wish to relieve it, seek acquaintance with it, Madam.
Having eyed me all over, with an earnest Kind of Surprise, you look, my Love, said she, to be very Good-natured, and I dare say will be very charitable when you come to have the Ability. The little Ability I have, Madam, shall be strained for your Service. In the mean Time, pray pardon the Freedom I have taken in ordering Tea and Coffee into your Room, with some Cakes and Sweetmeats for these pretty Misses. I will only trouble you, Madam, with one Guest more, it is Mr.
Clement,
my Tutor, who, good Man, has been no Stranger to Poverty or Distress.
Here she called Mr.
Ruth
from an inner Room, give me leave, my Dear, says she, to introduce a young Stranger to you, from what World he comes I know not, but I am sure that he is not wholly of the World that we have lived in.
Mr.
Ruth
's Countenance spoke at once the Meekness of
Moses
and the Patience of
Job.
Having saluted, we both sat down. Mr.
Ruth,
said I, I have a Message to you and your Lady from your sweet pretty Neighbour, Miss
Diana Stern.
In Token of her Respect and Affection for you, she presents you with this Cash Note of a hundred Pounds.
Diana Stern!
cried out Mr.
Ruth,
why, Master, she is nearly as poor as ourselves. By no Means, Sir, I assure you; her Grandfather is come to Town, she is worth several Thousands, besides a considerable Estate to which she is Heiress. O, the dear Creature, the dear Angel, cried Mrs.
Ruth,
I will instantly go and pay her my Acknowledgments; so up she got and out she run, before I could prevent her.
As soon as she was gone, Mr.
Ruth,
says I, my Dada is much fonder of me than I deserve. He has given me a little Money to dispose of, at pleasure, among the confined Debtors, and though I may not have enough to answer your Occasions, yet my Dada is so very good and so very generous, that if you give me the Sum of your Debts, with the Story of your Distresses, his Heart, I am sure, will melt, and he will set you clear in the World.
He made no Answer, however, to this my Offer, but, lifting up his Eyes, he cried, well mightest thou say, great Saviour of the Simple,
suffer little Children to come unto me, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.
O, thou Babe of the Manger,
thou first born of many Brethren,
here, indeed, is a dear and true little Brother of thine, but he speaks in his Simplicity, and not according to Knowledge. Then, turning toward me, can you guess, my Darling, said he, what you undertake to do for me? I question if the Charities of all this Nation would be sufficient, when united, to effect my Deliverance. Nothing, nothing but the Arm of the Almighty can do it. He will do it, indeed, in Death; but what then shall become of my Wife and seven Infants, that truly is terrible, is worse than Death to think of.
While we were speaking, two sweet little Fellows came in, the eldest very nearly of my Size, but both clad in very thin and poor-looking Apparel. Having kneeled for their Father's Blessing, they slipped behind us, and, turning my Head to observe them, I was quite ashamed, and drew it back again, on perceiving that the poor Things were unlading their Pockets of old Crusts and broken Meats, which I supposed they had begged for the Family.
Mrs.
Ruth
just then returned, and her Countenance looked something dejected. She took her Seat by her Husband, and, continuing a while silent, she put her Handkerchief before her Eyes, and began in broken Words, Can you guess, my Dear, said she, what Sort of a Creature this is whom we have got among us? This little heavenly Impostor, to lighten our Obligation, would have persuaded us that the hundred Pounds was the Gift of another, but it is all his own Bounty, it is all his own Graciousness. Come, my Daughters, come, my Children, kneel down and return your Thanks to this your Patron, your Benefactor, your little Father here!
O Dada, you would have pitied me sadly, had you seen me at that Time. The poor dear Things came, all in a Cluster, pressing, and catching, and clasping, and clinging about me; while my Love, and my very Heart was torn, as it were to Fritters among them. So I took them, one by one, in my Arms, and kissed and embraced them, very cordially, calling them my Brothers and Sisters. I then took out another hundred Pound Note, and, giving it to the eldest of the Daughters, here, my Dear, said I, I always loved the little Misses better than the little Masters; here is for yourself and your Sisters to clothe you in a way more becoming your Family. And then taking a Note, of equal Value, I gave it to the eldest Son, for himself and his Brothers, as I said, to help to educate them in a Manner, more agreeable to the House from whence they came.
Mr. and Mrs.
Ruth
looked so astonished at me, and at each other, that, for a while, they were not able to utter a Syllable. And, just as they began to make their Acknowledgments, I cried, hush, hush! here comes my Tutor.
Mr.
Clement
just then entered, followed by several Servants, who carried a Tea Equipage, cold Fowl, baked Meats, with other Pastries, and some Wine.
Having introduced Mr.
Clement,
we all got round the Table, and, after Tea and a further Regale, I besought Mr.
Ruth
to give us the Story of his Misfortunes.
My Father, said he, was Baron of
Frankford.
He left my Brother, with the Title, four thousand five hundred Pounds a Year, entailed however upon me, in case of his dying without Male Issue. And he left me a small Inheritance of four hundred Pounds yearly, to support, in some Measure, the Appearance of a Gentleman.
As my Concern bordered on my Brother's Estate, we saw one another every Day, and continued, for several Years, in strait and tender Amity.
Being both invited, one Day, to dine with other Company, at the House of a Neighbour called Mr.
Heartless,
a Question happened to be started over the Bottle, whether the Method of setting an Egg on End was originally the Invention of
Columbus,
or whether it was communicated to him by some other; and I unhappily espoused the Opinion that was opposite to that of my Brother.
Now, though the Question was not worth the very Shell of the Egg about which we debated, yet we entered as warmly into it as though a Province had lain at Stake; for it is not Truth or Instruction that Disputants seek after; it is Victory alone, that is the Object of their Contention.
After some warm Words, and personal Retorts had passed between my Brother and me, he started into sudden Passion and gave me the Lie; whereupon, reaching across the Table, I gave him a Tap on the Cheek with the flat of my Fingers: Then, rising furiously from his Seat, he swore a fearful Oath, and cried, I will ruin you,
Harry;
though it cost me my Estate, I will ruin you,
Harry Ruth,
with all who are yours.
The very next Day he mustered his Tenants and Labourers, and coming upon me with a little Army, he laid most of my Fences level with the Earth.
When I complained of this Violence to my next Neighbours, Mr.
Heartless,
and Mr.
Hollow,
they protested they would stand by me against such outrageous Proceedings to the last of their Fortunes. They then advanced me, between them, five hundred Pounds for the Purpose. I immediately commenced Suit against my Lord's Tenants. But, though I cast them all with Costs, I unhappily found that nearly all my Money was sunk in the Contest.
Meantime, scarce a Day passed wherein I was not served with a Subpoena from Chancery, to answer such or such a Bill, to which my Brother had procured me to be made a Party. And he also entered a Suit against me, himself, in order to invalidate my Father's Will, whereby I claimed my little Patrimony.
When I told this to my Friend Mr.
Hollow,
he broke into a loud Laugh. Your Title? cried he; the World cannot invalidate your Title, Mr.
Ruth;
I will let you have a thousand Pounds upon it To morrow; and this I was under the Necessity of accepting soon after.
Contention serves, with mutual Hands, to shut every Door against Reconciliation. The more I had loved my Brother, the more I now detested him. Instead of any Submission or Overture to appease him, my Lips uttered, in daily Invectives, the Overflowings of my Heart; as I also was assured that, on his Part, he wished me nothing less than eternal Perdition. Thus we burned, on both Sides, with unquenchable Fire, and the Kingdom of
Satan
was fully opened within us.
At length, my Body was imprisoned, at the Suit of my Neighbour
Heartless,
for 750
l.
and my Lands were taken under Execution, at the Suit of my Neighbour
Hollow,
for the Sum of 2000
l.
But, I soon was informed that all this Money was my Brother's, who had advanced it, from Time to Time, to those his clandestine Correspondents, in order to hasten and deepen my Destruction. When I understood this, I raged, I was all on Fire; and I took a horrid Pleasure in the Notion of having the Fangs of a Tiger, that I might tear my Brother Piecemeal, and my false Friends, Limb from Limb, and feast my Spirit on their Pangs, and mine Eyes on their Carnage.
But when I turned a Look on my Wife and seven Infants, Grief joined with Rage to tear me by a double Distraction. I cursed the Lot to which I was appointed upon Earth; and I should have sought some desperate Means of putting an End to my Torments and Existence together, but that I dreaded, by my Death, to give Pleasure to my Brother, ten times more than I dreaded the Pain of Death itself.
O, my Friends, had all that ever were sainted come and preached to me, the Peace of our Lord Christ, at that Season, it would have been no more than beating the Air, or striving with so many Sponges, to make an Impression on a Block of Marble. It is Distress alone that, by Oppression, makes Impression; that preaches the internal Doctrine of sensible Mortification, and humbles a proud Spirit, by plucking away all its Props.
At first, I was as a Worm under the Foot of my God. I turned, and struggled, and writhed, and fought with all my Force against the Crusher. But, alas! all was in vain; he was too mighty for me; and Opposition served only to add to my Anguish.
At length, I was compelled to acquiesce, rather through the want of Power than the want of Will to resist. And I lay, as it were, without Motion, under his Dispensations; at the same Time that my Heart reproached him, in secret.
Having sold all our Moveables, and even our wearing Apparel for Sustenance, we were reduced to the Necessity of sending our eldest Boys to beg Fragments of Victuals at Kitchen Windows, to keep us from utterly famishing. This I held to be such a further Shame and Disgrace as stung my Soul to the quick; I therefore began to kick against these Pricks also; but finding that, the more I spurned, the stronger I was held and pressed into the Dust, I gave up all Resistance, and contented myself with grieving and weeping under the Hand of the Almighty.
From hence I gradually sunk into a State of resigned Serenity which, although without Sunshine, was yet without Disturbance. My Fury smoothed its Crest, my Passions subsided, and I felt nothing more of Rancour against my Brother, or Resistance against my God.
The Activity of the Soul will find itself Employment. As I had now no further Prospect or Concern upon Earth, I began to turn my Thoughts and Attention toward Heaven. I locked myself into yonder Closet. I threw myself into the Dust. I have sinned, I cried, I have greatly sinned, O God! I am nothing, I am crushed even lower than the nothing that I am; spare, spare me from a deeper Perdition, I beseech thee!
I felt that my Prayer was heard; Peace descended upon me like Dew upon the Night. The-Day Star began gradually to dawn to my Soul. The dark Kingdom of
Satan
gave way before the Kingdom of the Son of Light and Love; and I would no more have entertained any one of my former Passions, than I would have taken burning Coals and have buttoned them up in my Bosom.
I was greatly delighted, Dada, with this Part and some more of Mr.
Ruth
's Story, and I got him to repeat it over and over, that I might remember it the better.
I now, continued he, I now pitied my Brother as much as ever I had hated him. I grieved for having caused the Loss of his Peace. I wished to restore it to him. I wrote a penitential Acknowledgment of my Faults. I besought his Pardon, in the humblest Manner, for the unfortunate Blow. I subscribed to the Justice of my consequent Sufferings; and I sent my Son, here, to attend his Lordship with my lowly Address.
The Triumph, which this Humiliation gave to my Brother, supplied him with Patience to go through my Memorial. But then conceiving, as I suppose, that it was dictated by mercenary Meanness and Hypocrisy, he tore it to Pieces and dashed it into the Fire. Then, returning to my Child the Box which had so enflamed the Soul of his Lordship, he kicked my poor little Fellow out of his House.
My Child came home to me, weeping sadly; but I consoled him the best I could, and mingled my Tears with his; not in any Resentment for the Treatment received, but through Grief for the Inveteracy of my unhappy Brother. O my God, I cried, I no longer repine at my Abasement, at the Weight of my Sufferings and Mortifications; I bless thee for them, O God; they have proved my best Friends, my most salutary Physicians. Cruel and stern, indeed, is the Porter who stands at the Iron Gate of Pain; but O, it opens upon Regions of inward Delight; for he who clothed himself with the Cross is all glorious within.
My happy Experience of this Truth opened, for me, a new Prospect into the Mystery of God's Dispensation to Mortals; and threw a Number of shining Lights on those very Articles of Gospel-Redemption, which had formerly appeared to me so exceptionable and gloomy. If God, said I to myself, hath suffered Man to fall, he hath also provided for him every possible Means of Recovery and Restoration.
Wherefore, when Sin came into the World, God also sent Suffering, its inseparable Attendant, to be a Cure and an Antidote to the Poison thereof. If Sin, therefore, hath thrust the Kingdom of Heaven from within us, Suffering comes, as God's Forerunner; it relaxes and unfolds the brazen Gates of our polluted Temple, that Christ our Righteousness may enter, the very Hem of whose Garment is Salvation to every Soul that lays hold upon it.
Here I took Mr.
Ruth
about the Neck, and, kissing him, said, that I was sure my Dada would be willing to pay his whole Debt in Return for the sweet Instructions which he had given to his
Harry.
You speak of your Dada, my Dear, said he, as though he were the Representative of God, in the Gospel, who forgave to his Servant ten thousand Talents. What you have given me already, Master, is beyond any human Bounty that ever I heard of. I shall therefore lay by two of these Notes, till I am better informed how far your good Father may be satisfied with the Donation.
Soon after, we took leave, for the present, of this honourable Family. We then went among the other principal Debtors, whose Distresses indeed were great, though their Stories, except one, had little singular in them. In order to make our Money go as far as we could, we hurried here and there, through the Town, compounding with the several Creditors, from eight to ten and twelve and fifteen Shillings in the Pound; so that, for about six hundred Pounds, we discharged a Number who were indebted to the amount of a thousand.
On
Tuesday
about Noon, in the last Week, I stepped to Mr.
Ruth
's to see if the Family had been decently clad, agreeable to my Request. There I found him and his four Sons clothed in warm and clean, though very coarse Apparel; and he told me, that his Wife had gone abroad with her three Daughters, in order to put them also into a suitable Condition.
While I sat with him, a young Woman came in, of a very genteel Appearance, though in a plain Dress. Don't you remember the Girl, Sir, said she, to Mr.
Ruth,
who used to come to you, over Night, in a green Kerchief and a little red Mantle. I should be very ungrateful, indeed, said he, if any Change of Dress could conceal from my Remembrance that sweet and charitable Countenance. O Sir, she cried, the few Shillings that I brought you, from Time to Time, came from a very affectionate Hand, though from a Hand you would little suspect of any Affection toward you; they came from your loving Niece
Belinda Ruth,
who has shed many a Shower of Tears on your Misfortunes. May Heaven be her Portion, cried out the good Man, since Earth has nothing equal to so much Goodness. Indeed, Sir, continued the Girl, the little that your Niece sent you was procured with much Difficulty and Danger to herself; for, from the Time that, on her Knees and with a Deluge of Tears, she petitioned her Father, in your behalf, he kept a watchful Eye over her, and took from her all Family Trusts; so that she had nothing wherewith to supply you, except the Price of some cast Gowns, and of other little Matters that she feigned to have lost. Moreover, my Lord swore vehemently that, if ever she furnished you with the Value of a Farthing, or kept any kind of Correspondence with you or with yours, he would disown and turn her into the public Streets.
You alarm me greatly, cried out Mr.
Ruth.
Is any thing amiss, has any thing happened to my dear Child? She was a lovely little Lamb, a little Angel from her Cradle; though I should not know her, now, if she stood erect before me. I hope, I say  tell me  proceed, I beseech you!
There was a Servant, Sir, a Man whom your Niece thought very faithful, and therefore entrusted with the Secret of my coming to you, that he might attend and see me safe back again. This Fellow, presuming on the Confidence that was placed in him, would, this Morning, have taken indecent Liberties with his young Mistress. This she resented in a becoming Manner, and threatened to complain of his Insolence to her Father. The revengeful Villain instantly ran, and told the Affair to his Lord with many Aggravations, as though his Daughter was robbing him of all his Substance. Thereupon she was hastily called, and, having in Part confessed the Charge, my Lord drew his Sword in his Fury, whereupon, giving a Shriek and a sudden Spring, she got out of his Presence, and has sent me to know, Sir, if you will be pleased to receive her?
Yes, cried Mr.
Ruth,
to my Bosom, to my Heart; with the same Pleasure and Welcome that a Convict receives Pardon on the Hour of Execution.
Just then Mrs.
Ruth
entered, with her three Daughters, who, running up to their Father, dropped together on their Knees before him for a Blessing.
While his Hands and Eyes were raised in Prayer over them, the young Stranger stepped earnestly up, and, falling on her Knees beside the Daughters, she broke into Tears, and cried aloud, bless me, bless me also, O my Father! I am your Niece, your
Belinda,
my Father is no more! Yours, my Lord, is the Title, yours all the Possession; I now, in my Turn, depend on your Bounty for a Morsel of Bread. My Brother, my Brother dead! exclaimed Mr.
Ruth.
He is, my Lord, she replied; he was suffocated by his rising Choler, and expired on the Spot.
While the young Lady spoke, Mrs.
Ruth
looked, as quite terrified by the Tidings of such a sudden Elevation; and clapping her Hands together, and lifting her Eyes, she cried, it cannot be, it is impossible! Ours the Title, ours the Fortune !    O my God !    O my Husband !    O my Children !    and down she dropped.
CHAP. XVII.
WHILE
Harry
was speaking,
Ned
saw a Woman standing before one of the Windows, and, looking earnestly at her, he gave a sudden Jump, and, dancing about; cried, O Sir, Sir, my Mammy, my Mammy, my Mammy! there's my Mammy, there's my Mammy, as sure as Day!
Run
Ned,
instantly, cried Mr.
Fenton,
and call
James
to me  
James,
yonder's the Woman who stole
Ned
from his Parents, have an Eye to her, do not let her escape! Order
Frank
to take a Horse and go with all speed to Mr. and Mrs.
Fielding,
that they may come and know, of a surety, whether
Ned
is their Child or not  Stay a Moment; as soon as you have given
Frank
his Orders, take the rest of the Servants and lay hold on this bad Woman, bring her into the House by Force, and confine her in one of the Back Rooms till Mr.
Fielding
arrives. By all
Ned
's Account, she must be a very sad Creature, and deserves no Favour.
James
went out with Alacrity upon his Commission, and, having executed Matters with his accustomed Punctuality, he returned to the Company.
Law! Sir, cried
James,
it is impossible that this Woman should be
Ned
's Mammy as he called her. This is some unhappy decayed Gentlewoman, as innocent of the Fact, I dare answer, as the Child unborn. I am sorry, with all my Heart, that I had her used so roughly. Beside, Sir, she is so deaf, that she can't answer to any thing of which she may be accused.
When we took her in hand she was terribly frightened. Come, says I, Mistress, you must now give an Account of all your Wickedness.    
Ennis,
says she,
Ennis?
no but
Enfield;
five Miles beyond
Enfield,
with the Rev. Mr.
Catharines
  I know nothing, said I aloud, of your
Enfields
or your
Catharines;
but I tell you that you must now answer for the Life that you have led. Dead, dead, says she, God forbid! A dear and a good Master he was to me, I am sure; I have lived with him these five Years; and he gave me Money enough to bear my Charges; but I fell sick at
Saint Alban
's and spent all; and I have been these three Days creeping along, and begging wherewithal to keep Life in me on the way.
As you say,
James,
cried Mr.
Fenton,
this Account seems pretty feasible; a deaf Servant however is something uncommon; and yet I once knew a deaf and dumb Man the most ready and apprehensive Attendant I ever saw, he would instantly collect whatever you wanted from the Motion of your Lips and the Cast of your Eye. Go to her yourself,
Ned,
and observe her more exactly; for, if what she says has any Truth in it, it is impossible she should be your Mammy.
Ned
accordingly went, but returned under evident Confusion and Difficulty. I don't know what to think, Sir, of this Matter, cries
Ned.
When I look at the Gentlewoman's Face, I could swear, twenty times over, to every Feature, but, when I look at her Dress and Manners, I could again almost swear against her Face.
Ned
's Perplexity added greatly to Mr.
Fenton
's Curiosity. He got up in haste and went in Person to inspect the Party. When he entered, he saw a young Woman who looked very pale and sickly, but of a genteel Appearance, and neatly though plainly dressed. She cast upon him a sensible and penetrating Look, and curtseying to him, with downcast Eyes, Sir, says she, your Presence tells me that you are Master here. I know not for what Offence your People have confined me, but if it is on any Suspicion of Misbehaviour, I have here the Certificate of a worthy Man and a great Saint, who vouches at least for the Innocence of my Conduct.    Here she presented him with a Paper that contained the following Words:
I certify that the Bearer hath served me upward of five Years in quality of Housekeeper and Intendant of my Family. That she is a young Woman of distinguished Piety and Merit, and departs, at her own Desire, on some Business to
London.
Given under my Hand, &c.
MARMADUKE CATHARINES, Cl'.
On reading this, Mr.
Fenton
bowed and made a Motion with his Hand for her to sit down. He then took a Pen and Paper that lay beside him, and wrote to the Purpose, that he requested her to allow him to detain her Certificate for about an Hour, after which he would return it, and endeavour to make her amends for the unbecoming Treatment which his People had given her.
On casting her Eye over the Paper, she made a low Curtsey, and said, I shall willingly attend, Sir, during your Pleasure; but hope, in the mean time, that your Charity will afford me a Morsel or two of the Fragments of your last Meal.
Mr.
Fenton
then pulled a Bell, and having ordered some cold Meats and Whitewine to be served, he bowed, and withdrew to his Company.
Ned,
said he as he entered, this Woman is just as much the Empress of
Russia
as she is your
Mammy.
Here, Mr.
Clement,
look at this Certificate; I have no Reason to doubt the Truth of the Character given in it, for her Person and Manners are every way conformable. I am sorry, at Heart, that I sent in such a Hurry for Mr. and Mrs.
Fielding;
I have thereby raised a Sort of Expectation in them, and it may be very mortifying to have that Expectation so suddenly and so wholly defeated.
Some time after, a Coach and six frothing Horses drove up to the Door, and Mr. and Mrs.
Fielding,
alighted, with a Kind of Impatience and Trepidation apparent in their Countenance. As soon as Mr.
Fenton
had duly received and seated them; my dear Madam, says he to Mrs.
Fielding,
I think myself very unhappy in having given you a deal of unnecessary Trouble. My poor
Ned,
here, has been utterly mistaken in the Person of the Woman whom he took to be his Mammy. The Certificate of her certain Residence bears a Date even previous to that in which we found him; and her Deportment is more than a thousand Testimonies against her being of the wandering or dissolute Class of People. Be pleased, Mr.
Fielding,
to look over this Certificate; I think it has all the Marks of its being genuine.
The Moment that Mr.
Fielding
cast his Eye on the Paper, a well known Character, a well known Character indeed, he exclaimed. It is the Hand of Mr.
Catharines,
my Tutor, my Friend; the Man of the World, excepting yourself Mr.
Fenton,
for whom I have the dearest Respect and Affection. No Question can be made of any thing to which he sets his Affirmative.
Alas, cried Mrs.
Fielding,
then all the Hopes we had conceived must again be cast aside. Here comes our Nurse too, poor Woman, in great Haste; I sent her Word that we had found the Person whom we suspected to have stolen our Child, and desired that she would meet me here directly.
While Mrs.
Fielding
spoke, Nurse entered panting and almost breathless, and, without saluting or taking any Note of the Company, Where, she hastily cried, where is the Boy, Madam, whom you suppose to be your Child?
Ah! Nurse, said Mrs.
Fielding,
we were quite mistaken in the Woman whom we suspected to be the Kidnapper, and so that Affair is all over again.
I have nothing to say, cried Nurse, to this Woman or the other Woman; but you must not have another Body's Child put upon you; if he is indeed your Son, I shall know him in an Instant; I should know him from all the Children that ever were born. Why, Nurse, cried Mrs.
Fielding,
eagerly, do you know of any natural Mark, or Mole, or Spot, by which you could guess at him. He had no such Spot upon him, Madam, but, if he be a living Boy, he has a Mark of my own making that never will out, and that's the Reason that I never dared to tell you of it. What Mark, Nurse, what Mark? tell me instantly, I beg you.
Why, Madam, you must know as how the Weather was very cold, it being twelfth Day in
Christmas
Holidays. So you and my Master were from Home on visiting, and I had a rousing Fire down, and my Child stood by my Knee, being just then twelve Months nineteen Days old, and as sturdy a Fellow, of his Age and Inches, as any could desire to see. So the Cat, all at once, threw down some crockery Ware behind me. Up I started, to be sure, and run to save the Vessels; but, hearing my Child scream, I turned much nimbler back again, and found him fallen, with his little Neck against the upper Bar of the Grate. It was well that I didn't die on the Spot, for then he must have died too. So I whipped him up in my Arms, but he shrieked and roared terribly. So I got some softening Cream and spread it over the Burn, and I put a Plaster upon that again; and I covered the Place, from Day to Day, so well with his Cap, that neither you nor my Master knew any thing of the Matter. But the Shape of his Hurt went so deep into my Heart and into my Memory, that, as I was saying and still say, I should know him by it again among all the Children in all the World.
Go then, my dear Nurse, cried Mrs.
Fielding,
go immediately and examine if this Boy has your Mark upon him. Is this the Master, Madam, whom you suspect to be your Son? It is, Nurse, it is; my Heart took a liking to him the first Moment I saw him; he too was stolen from his Parents, and may as well be my Son as the Son of another.
Here Nurse made a hasty Step or two toward
Ned,
but, suddenly stopping and turning pale, ah! Madam, she cried, I wish you would go and try yourself; the Wound, if he has it, is just under his right Ear; for if I should find, indeed, that he is my very Child, I shall certainly run mad on the very Spot for Joy. I dare not try, Nurse, I dare not try for the World, said Mrs.
Fielding,
I am already all of a Tremble, I know not how.
Nurse, then, plucking up a little Resolution, stepped suddenly to
Ned,
and turned up his Hair; when, giving a loud Scream, she had just the Power to cry out, my Child, my Child, my Child, my Child! and dropped down in an anguishing Fit of Hysterics.
Mrs.
Fielding,
on hearing her Nurse cry out, rose hastily from her Chair, and would have gone to embrace her Son, but, falling instantly back, she fainted away. The poor Nurse, however, was not so happy. She broke forth, at Times, into convulsive Peals of Laughter that made the House ring; and again she fell into Fits of Weeping, so outrageous and bitterly desolate, as no Heart, under the Temper of Adamant, could support.
While the Family were all in Bustle, applying Remedies to their Patients, Mrs.
Fielding
recovered, and, hearing the Cries of her Nurse, she went and kneeled down by her, and wept with her and over her while her Tears proved a seasonable Restorative to herself.
As soon as Mr.
Fielding
found that his Lady was well recovered, he turned to
Ned,
and, lifting his Hair, observed the remarkable Seam that the Burn had made. It is, it is my Child! he tenderly cried. O my God, how is this? wherein have I deserved thy smallest Notice or Regard, that thou shouldest thus visit me with thy Wonders, and by thy Mercies put me to Confusion of Face?
Here
Ned
kneeled respectfully down for a Blessing, which his Father silently called upon him with lifted Hands and Eyes. He then raised him, and sitting down, took him fondly to his Bosom; thou art, thou art my Son, my beloved Son, he cried; my first and my last, the only Offspring of my Bowels. Thou shalt no more be a Wanderer, no more be a Beggar, my Babe. Thrice blessed be our Meeting, and tenfold blessed thy future Fortunes! O that our Lives, my Child, might be made one whole Oblation to him from whom this amazing Salvation hath come!
By this Time, the Nurse's Distemper was greatly abated, though she still continued extremely low and feeble, and did not seem to recollect, except by faint Glimmerings, any Matter that had passed. Mr.
Fielding
then proposed to take her to Town, to the Physicians; observing that there was Room enough for her and
Ned
in their Carriage, and, as Mrs.
Fielding
made no Exception, the Coach was ordered to turn directly to the Door.
Poor
Ned,
during this Time, was as a Person who fluctuated between the dread of leaving known and certain Enjoyments, and the Hopes of his possessing somewhat that he had not yet tasted.
Mr.
Fielding
then stepped up, in a Kind of quick Rapture, to Mr.
Fenton.
He caught him in his Arms; my dearest Sir, he cried, I love, I respect, I revere you, even next to my God! What can I return you? what shall I say to you? All that I am or have sinks out of sight from your Benefits.    I am blessed, my dear Sir, I am blessed beyond Expression, replied Mr.
Fenton,
in being made an humble Instrument of Happiness to a worthy Man. --O Sir, cried Mr.
Fielding,
what Events next to miraculous! we came to your Door, but we were not permitted to pass; our Carriage broke for the Purpose; you then told us of this Foundling, but what Likelihood that among Millions he should happen to be ours? You then proposed an Expedient for ascertaining the Persons from whom he was kidnapped. This Expedient failed. God, however, would discover him, and had foreordained the Means. He set upon him an indubitable Mark for the Purpose; none knew of this but his Nurse, and she has revealed it. Had any one of these many Circumstances been wanting, our Child must have continued a Stranger to us for ever. Indeed, Sir, said Mr.
Fenton,
they are all concurring Proofs that you are under the especial Eye of Providence. But, Sir, I fear we shall have a heavy Loss of our Friend
Ned;
for, though he does not want his small Faults, he is a worthy hearted Child, and a very pleasant Companion. O Sir, cried Mr.
Fielding,
you and Master
Fenton
have a Right to command both him and us at all Times. But come,
Ned,
take Leave, for the present, of your best Friends.
Here
Ned,
with filling Eyes, stepped respectfully to Mr.
Fenton,
and, kneeling before him, took each of his Hands and kissed them, crying, my Father! my Father! whereupon Mr.
Fenton
tenderly raised him, and, pressing him affectionately to his Bosom, cried, God be good to you, my Son, and make you a Blessing to your true Parents and to all your Kin!
Ned
then turned to
Harry,
and taking him by both Hands, and looking him fondly in the Face, O Master
Harry,
Master
Harry,
he cried, I never shall be able to say the Word Farewell to you, my Master
Harry!
I was hungry and you fed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was a Stranger and you took me in; the whole World to me was fatherless and friendless, when you were Father and Mother, and a whole World of Friends to me, my true Lord and Master
Harry.
Are you not my Owner, am I not your Property, your own hard bought Bargain? Did you not purchase me with your Stripes, and with your precious Blood, and will you suffer me to be taken away from you, my Heart's Master?
Here
Harry,
swallowing his Passion as well as he was able, clasped
Ned
in his Arms and cried, my Brother, my Brother, my Friend and Brother for ever! then turning to Mr. and Mrs.
Fielding,
and wiping his Eyes, I hope, Madam, I hope, Sir, says he, that you will excuse my young Friend, here, for his Partiality to a Family who have loved him long and very dearly; in a little time, to be sure, he will love and respect you both, above all the World, though put all together. Though I grieve to part with him, I heartily rejoice at his being found, and acknowledged to be the Child of such worthy Parents, and I hope, I say, that you will not be offended at his Concern for parting with his old Friends.
No, my noble Creature, cried Mr.
Fielding,
we are delighted at the Proof that he gives of his Gratitude, and at the Strength of his Attachment where he has been so highly obliged.
O Sir, O Madam, says
Ned,
(kissing the Hands of his Parents) did you but know the Value of what I lose, when I leave, when I leave --and here he burst afresh into Tears.
Mrs.
Fielding,
then took
Ned
in her Arms, and tenderly embracing him, cried, we do, my Love, we do know the Value of the Family that you leave, and it is the first and the dearest Wish of my Heart that we should all become as one Family and as one Household. This Angel here, as you say, is your rightful Owner, and we owe him more, on that Account, than our whole Fortune can pay, and he shall have you as long and as often as ever he pleases; but, for this Night, my Darling, it would be very unkind not to go with your good Nurse, your true and loving Mammy, who has suffered so much for your sake, and her Case requires that we should take her immediately to the Doctors.
Here
Ned
acquiesced, and, having taken a weeping Leave of all the Family, not forgetting the meanest Servant in the House, he stepped slowly into the Coach, sat down by his Nurse, and away they drove.
As soon as the Family of the
Fieldings
were gone,
Harry
withdrew to his Chamber and locked himself in, while Mr.
Fenton
went to enfranchise his late Prisoner.
He first returned her Certificate to her, and then presenting her with twenty Guineas, he bowed and made a Motion with his Hand to the Door, intimating that she was at liberty to depart when she thought proper.
Having looked several Times, with Silence and Surprise, now at Mr.
Fenton
and again at the Money, I should be very ill deserving of your Bounty, Sir, she said, should I attempt any longer to impose upon you. I am not deaf as you supposed, it was only an Artifice which I made use of, when taken into Custody, to avoid answering Questions that might have brought a worthy Family into Disgrace. But you look so altogether the Gentleman and the kind hearted Christian, that I think I ought to have no Reserve of any Kind toward you.
Be pleased then, said Mr.
Fenton,
as far as Prudence will allow, to let me know who and what you are.
I hope, Sir, she replied, that I am very far from being what I was, otherwise I should be the very vilest of the Vile. Wherefore, if you will allow a weakly Woman to sit, I will tell you the whole of my short Story, with the same Openness that I make Confession of my Sins to Him from whom, alone, I can look for Remission.
My maiden Name was
Fielding,
my Father was a Gentleman of large Fortune and good Repute; he had by my Mother a very worthy Son who inherits his Estate, and a very unworthy Daughter who now takes the Shame of confessing her Faults before you.
My Mother was one of the holiest of Women, and brought me up, to the best of her Power, in her own Principles and Practice; but she died when I was in the thirteenth Year, an Age when the Blood is in the Tide of flow, before I had acquired a due Relish for my Duty, before the Yoke of
Christ
became easy or his Burden delightsome.
My Father then provided me a Governess, a Woman well skilled in
French
and Needlework, and other such shewy Matters of Accomplishment; a Woman also of much apparent Modesty and Decorum, though inwardly of a debauched and lascivious Disposition.
There is nothing so pernicious to the Breeding and Morals of Children as their being permitted to keep kitchen Company, where high fed Husseys and pampered Fellows form a Hotbed of steaming Sensuality and Guilt.
My Governess, though something elderly, took a liking to my Father's Clerk, a modest young Man, whom, however, she had the Art to seduce to her wanton Purposes.
In order to promote her Intrigue, in my Father's Absence, at Evenings, she used to procure Collations, and after we had eat and drank, to propose Plays and other Matters of innocent Merriment, as she called them.
The Chief of our Men Servants was one
Guilliam Rampant,
the Butler, a comely robust Fellow, and one in whom my Father had placed great Trust.
One Night, as we were playing at
Hide and Seek,
this Man watched the Place where I sought to conceal myself, and coming softly and suddenly to me, he caught me up under one Arm, and running with me to a distant Apartment, he there ruined me.
A false Shame did not permit me to say any thing of the Matter, and the Villain had, afterwards, the Insolence to threaten me that, if I did not admit him to further Familiarities, he would tell what had passed, and expose me to the Family.
At length, both the Governess and I proved with Child, of which the Housekeeper, in private, informed my Father; whereupon my Governess was turned, with Infamy, out of Doors, and I was locked up and confined in a waste Room.
On the third Day of my Imprisonment my Father entered, and having examined me with a stern though sedate Severity, on my Knees, and with a Flood of Tears, I confessed the whole Affair.
The Butler was then sent for.
Guilliam,
said my Father, if you do not directly marry this Strumpet, I will hang you for a Rape, but, if you marry her, I will give you two hundred Pounds to set you going in some poor Way, on Condition that I never see the Face of either of you any more.
The last Terms were immediately complied with. A License was sent for. We were married in my Father's Presence. The Money was paid down, and we were directly turned into the Streets.
Upon this small Fund, and about a hundred and fifty Pounds more which my Husband had saved of his Vails and Wages, he set up a gaming Tavern to which there was great Resort; and as he was a very bold, sensible, and enterprizing Man, he became extremely agreeable to Numbers of his Customers, among whom there were many Persons of Fortune and Distinction.
At length the Time of my Labour approached. I lay, for a Fortnight, in Agonies that admitted of little Intermission. My Child died within me, and was brought into the World Piecemeal.
I languished, for three Months after my Delivery, without being able to quit my Bed; and the Remembrance of the Pangs and Miseries that I endured caused me to vow, within myself, that I would never more have any Commerce with Mankind.
On my Recovery, therefore, I daily rejected the Caresses of my Husband, and, every Night, I bolted myself into my Chamber, whereupon he began to behave himself with great Coldness and Distance toward me, and to frequent the Company of common and lewd Women.
In about fourteen Months after my Marriage, my Husband had a Run of Dice against him, whereby he lost to the amount of fifteen hundred Pounds; and as he had not wherewithal to discharge the full Sum, he determined, at all Events, to pay to the last Penny of his Debts of Honour, as he called them. Hereupon he began to raise Contributions on the Public, and, after several very bold and successful Exploits, his Person became notorious, and he was taken, from amidst his right-honourable Associates, at a Gaming-table in
London,
conveyed to Newgate, tried, convicted, and executed at
Tyburn.
Upon this, all our Substance was immediately seized by Creditors, or by the Officers of the Crown; and I was turned into an unknown World, without any Thing to sustain me, save a few Shillings in my Pocket, and the single Suit of Clothes which I happened to have on my Back.
I forgot to tell you, my dear Sir, that my worthy but afflicted Father had died before this Period; and this ought to have been the greatest of Afflictions to myself; but the Season of my Feelings was not yet come, and I barely dropped a slight Tear, without any Sense of Remorse for having been, in all likelihood, his principal Executioner.
As my Brother was now the only Person, upon Earth, to whom I had any Right to apply for Support; I accordingly went to his House with an anxious beating Heart, and sent him in a written State of my very deplorable Case. But his Answer was, that, if ever I should again appear before his Doors, he would take me up, as a Vagabond, and transport me to the Plantations.
Wholly desperate, by this Disappointment, and stimulated almost to Frenzy, my Blood boiled in my Veins. The horrid Thoughts of Vengeance could alone assuage my raging Spirit; and I resolved to compass my Ends by Poison, by Dagger, or any the speediest Means. For I looked upon my Brother as a Robber who had despoiled me of my Title to my Father's Affection and Inheritance.
For this accursed Purpose it was necessary to get near him. I sold my Clothes, and having disguised myself in the Dress of a Charwoman, I engaged as a Servant in a Cellar over the Way.
From this Place I observed an Infant of about two Years old, who, at times, was brought to the Door by the Hand of his Nurse; and I learned that he was the only Child of my Brother, and that the Lives of his Parents were wrapt up in him.
Here I conceived I had found an Object on whom I might execute my Revenge, with better Safety to my own Person, and greater Torture to my Adversary, than by any other Method that Invention could supply. I therefore couched on my Watch, like a Lioness for her Prey, and spying the Child alone, I shot across the Street, caught him up in my Arms, and away I flew.
I hastened with him as fast as I could till I reached the Fields. I then got under a Ditch, and stripped him of his gay Rayment which I folded in a Handkerchief; and having cut in Pieces an old Petticoat, and tacked it about him, I made my way to a Cabbin where they sold small Ale and Spirits, and there took up my Lodging for the first Night.
I believe, Sir, I am the greatest Instance, that ever was, of the Length to which human Nature can go in Reprobacy, when abandoned of God, and unvisited by his gracious Motions in the Heart. The strong Bent which my Mother had given me to Religion caused me only to recoil with the greater Force; and, when my Father cast me off, I even reproached my God, and was at Enmity with him for having suffered me to fall into my first Offence against Virtue.
I was yet urged and carried further down the Hill of Perdition, by the Example of the licentious Set of Profligates that daily and nightly frequented my Husband's House, insomuch that, in time, I began to relish their Profaneness, and my Tongue as well as Ear, at length, became accustomed to Oaths and Execrations; a Vice, of all others, the most unnatural, most shocking, and abhorred in our Sex.
In fine, I became an Alien and even an Enemy to all Goodness; and I would willingly have been a Party in any Kind of Wickedness, save that of personal Prostitution, and this I avoided merely for fear of a second Child-birth, which I dreaded more than I dreaded the Torments of Hell.
How pitiable, then, must have been the Case of the unhappy Infant who had fallen into my cruel Gripe. I often suffered him, on purpose, to weep for Hunger, and then would lash him for crying, that I might please myself, as it were, with the Miseries of my Brother in the Person of his Child.
For four Years and nine Months I led a wandering and mendicant Life, in which Trade my little Nephew grew very successful and useful to me, so that I began to abate of my Severity toward him. Detested by my Relations, and outcast from the World, I cared for nothing but Self, and nightly indulged my Appetite with the best Victuals and Liquor that my Pocket could afford, from the Issues of my own Petitions and of those of my fellow Traveller.
One Day, having passed through
Enfield,
where I had raised some petty Contributions, I spyed an Infant on a Bank, at a Distance from any House, and instantly the Project occurred of exacting the larger Charities by his Means. I looked about, and thinking that I was not observed, I caught the Child up and ran off with all my Speed. But I had not gone far, when I heard a Man shouting after me, and perceived that I was pursued. Thereupon I cast down the Child, with my Pouch of Provisions, and leaving little
Ned
behind me also, I made the best of my Way thro' the opposite Thicket.
As my Terrors continued, I continued to run, till I was all in a glow and faint with Fatigue, but still keeping forward, though slower and slower, God conducted me within Sight of the Parsonage House of Mr.
Catharines,
which I reached with much Difficulty, and then sunk away on the Threshold.
I knew nothing further of what passed till I found myself in a warm though coarse Bed, with one Woman holding a Bottle of Salts to my Nose, and another presenting me with a Cordial. I looked about and found myself something revived, but, on the Sight of some Meat which was brought to me, I again fainted.
Within some Hours after, I was seized with Pains in all my Bones, and fell into a raging though intermitting Fever. Mr.
Catharines,
who was Physician to the Bodies as well as Souls of all his Flock, visited and prescribed for me, and had me attended with great Humanity.
On the third Night, I dreamed that an invisible Hand came and, seizing me by a single Hair of my Head, hurried me aloft, through the Regions of the Air, till it held me right over a fiery Gulf, in the Pinnacles of whose Flames a Variety of Daemons appeared to hover, the Horridness of whose Figures was indescribable to Ears of Flesh and Blood. They all seemed to struggle toward me, and to stretch forth their Fangs to receive me, while my Husband,
Guilliam Rampant,
ascended swiftly in the Midst, and, rushing up with a Pair of Sheers, cut the Hair that withheld me in twain, so, down I thought I fell, and, giving a great Shriek, I awakened to Darkness and inexpressible Horrors.
Though no Light was in the Room, my conscious Spirit supplied the Office. All my Transgressions arose minutely and distinctly to Memory. They appeared substantially, as so many Fiends, within me and round about me; and I fell into an Agony that threw me into a Fit.
I awoke again before Morning, but without any Abatement of my Terrors or Desperation. The former Objects continued to present themselves before me, and, no longer able to support Existence, I groped about for a Knife, or other Instrument of self-Destruction, for I said, to myself, perhaps Death may bring Rest to the Weary and Overladen, or, at least, afford some Respite before the fearful judgement of final Condemnation. So, finding no other Means that suited my desperate Purpose, I grasped my Neck in my Hands, and exerted my Force to strangle myself; but Nature proved repugnant to the Completion of an Office against herself, and I sunk from my Agonies into a second Fit.
On the breaking of the Day Mr.
Catharines
entered, but, as the Room was darkened I did not know who he was. He approached my Bed, and taking hold of my Hand, he sighed and said, you are very ill, poor Woman, exceeding ill, indeed; you have more Need of a Physician for your Soul than your Body; if you please then I will kneel down and pray with you and for you, that God may receive your departing Spirit.
O no, Sir, I cried, I cannot pray; even to hear a Prayer would be worse than Hell to me. I have no God, no Saviour, they have long since departed from me; I am a Sinner to whom Hope can never come; Omnipotence itself can do nothing for me; I feel that, if God would, he cannot save me, except he were to create me over again.
And he can create you over again, cried the good Mr.
Catharines;
even in this Instant he can make you a new Nature and a new Creature; he can save you from all your Sins by an inward Salvation, by pouring the Abundance of himself into your Bosom.
O Sir, I exclaimed, you do not know how vile I am. Even now I am in Hell; the Fiends have the Property and Possession of me. O, if any single Soul were to suffer, for everlasting, what I suffered last Night, better it were that Creation had never been.
Here I recounted to him my Dream, with the Agonies that I felt, and my Attempt to destroy myself; when the comforting Saint cried out, good Hopes, good Hopes! very excellent Hopes, indeed. These are strong and blessed Compunctions. I see that the Saviour of Sinners is determined not to lose you. Be of good Cheer! here, take this Julap to recruit your wearied Spirits, that you may be able to lay open the Woundings of your Soul to the ministring Physician of your dear and loving Lord.
But, do you think, Sir, said I, that there is any Hope for me? Hope, cried he, there is Assurance, more stable than the marble Foundations of the Earth. God is all Love, he is nothing but Love, he never rejected Any that once turned unto him. His Incarnation, his whole Task and Business upon Earth, his Sufferings and Crucifixion, his Agonies and Death were chosen, and embraced by him for the love and sake of Sinners. It is in the Regions of sinning Nepthali, in the Darkness and Shadow of Death, that the Light of the loving
Jesus
delights to spring up. But, come, my dear Sister, tell me who and what you are. Lay open, with Truth and Honesty, the manifold Distempers of your Sin-sick Soul; your Weakness, your Poverty, your Nakedness, your Pollutions, your Errors, and your Emptiness; and He, who shineth in Darkness, will descend into you, my Sister, and will be your Strength, and the Riches of pardoning Mercy to you; and will cover your Nakedness, and purify your Pollutions, and turn your Errors into Rectitude, and your Emptiness into the Fullness of the Joy and Glory of your God!
Here I made him a full Recital of all the Passages of my Life, as openly but much more minutely than I have done to your Honour. Never was Man so affected. He groaned, he sobbed aloud, he wet his Handkerchief with his Tears as though it had been drenched in the River.
As soon as I had concluded, do you not know me then? he cried, (breaking afresh into Tears) do you not know me, Mrs.
Phaebe?
know you not
Marmaduke Catharines,
your Brother's Tutor and your Tutor, the Man from whose Lips you used to imbibe Instruction with so much Avidity? Ah, had I stayed, nothing of this would have happened; but your Brother got me presented to a rich Living here, and so I left my Vineyard and the Fruits thereof unguarded; Oh that accursed
Rampant!
I left my Lamb to the voracious and remorseless Wolf! --From your Infancy, Mrs.
Phaebe,
you were the Darling of my Affections; the Day did not seem to shine in which I saw you not. Your Smiles cheered my Spirit, and your unaffected Graces played round my Heart.
Your Brother, too, saw and approved my Passion for You. What Happiness did he not propose to himself in our Union! We will be Brothers, he cried, my
Catharines,
folding me fast in his Arms, we will be Brothers in Reality as well as Inclination.
But those blissful Prospects soon vanished away. You were seduced, my Daughter, you were seduced from your Duty, from your God and your Lover. Your Brother writ me an Account of your fatal Falling away; and I spent my Nights in Tears, and my Days in Anguish.
Ah, how you are altered, even in Person and Aspect, I could not have known you again. Sin hath taken away the Innocence and Sweetness of your Countenance, and spread a Cloudiness and Stain in the Place thereof. But, you are returned, my Child, you are returned to Virtue and Piety, to yourself and to your God, and he will once more beautify you, and make you, as the King's Daughter, all glorious within, and deck you with living Saphirs, even the morning Stars of the Preparation of the Appearance of
Jesus!
While the holy Man spoke, the nether Millstone of my Heart began to dissolve, my Agonies and Terrors departed from me; my Breast began to heave with a kindly though sad Emotion, and a Torrent of Tears greatly eased my Distemper both of Body and Mind.
Mr.
Catharines,
as I afterwards learned, on hearing of my doleful Miscarriage, had vowed to himself, in secret, never to have Commerce with Womankind.
A widowed Lady, however, of large Fortune and liberal Education, but much advanced in Years, happened to reside in the Neighbourhood. She was first caught by the simple though affecting Piety of his Discourses from the Pulpit. She visited and was visited by him. She was then further charmed by the Lustre of his Sentiments, the Sanctitude of his Manners, and the Sweetness of his Disposition. Sir, said she to him one Day, I am, by Birth, a Foreigner, and neither have Children, nor any Relation of my Blood in this Kingdom who, on my Decease, may put in for a Title to my Fortune. I blush not to tell you that, if I were young and beautiful, you are the Man of the World whom I would have chosen for my Husband. But my Defects take nothing from your great Merits. You are as precious in my Eyes as if I were deserving of you; and I am desirous of making yo umy Own for Life, provided you swear to me, before the nuptial Knot is tied, that my Fortune, my Company, and my Obedience are all that ever you will require from me in Right of our Marriage. You shall live, and shall be as an only Son to me; and I will have for you, at once, all the Duty of a Wife and the Tenderness of a Mother.
I am not insensible of what Gibers may say, respecting the Impropriety of certain Appetites at my Years; but I trust, by my Conduct, to disabuse their Opinion, and to cause all Occasion of stumbling, in my Neighbour, to cease.
In the mean Time, my two capital Prospects will be compassed by this Scheme, the One, of giving myself a legal Title to your Company; the Other, of giving You a legal Title to my Fortune.
A Proposal, for such a Species of Marriage; answered exactly to Mr.
Catharines
's Vow of Celibacy. The Lady, though considerably upward of Sixty, shone in all the Graces and Attractions of Youth, excepting only those personal Allurements to Concupiscence, toward which Mr.
Catharines
had resolved on an Aversion; He could therefore form no rational Objection to the Scheme; and, within a few Weeks, they were privately married.
While I wept, as I told you, Sir, under a kindly Remorse for my manifold Offences, Mr.
Catharines
kneeled down and poured forth his Prayers beside me, with an Elocution so warm, and so deeply affecting, as entered and searched through my Heart and my Reins, and seemed to tear out, by the Roots, all the Evil that was in me.
As soon as he had ended, and that I had thanked him, with Words half suffocated, for the Graciousness of his Consolations, Mrs.
Catharines
came in. Would you then, Sir, said she, would you monopolize all the Charities? will you not suffer a Sister near the Throne of Grace, who may assist in the under Services to the Servants of our Master?
My Dear, said he tenderly, I was about to request your Presence. Here lies on the Bed of Sickness, and perhaps of Death, the Daughter of my Patron, the Sister of my Friend, and once the dearest Object of my Affections and Prospects for Life. Pray order a Chamber for her more becoming her Station, and my Debts to her Family.
She, instantly, went out with Alacrity, and without Reply, and, within a few Minutes, several female Servants entered who, gently wrapping me in the Clothes wherein I lay, conveyed me to a Bed ready sheeted and warmed, that stood in a small but decent Apartment.
As soon as I was placed, Mrs.
Catharines
came up, and stooping, tenderly kissed me and said, God be very gracious unto you, my Daughter!
Here I was treated with an Attention and Delicacy, that joined with my evil Deeds to put me to utter Shame. However, I began to recover apace, and within a few Days was able to sit up.
On the seventh Night I had a very singular Dream or Vision which will never depart my Memory, and which, I trust, through Life and Death, will preserve its happy and comforting Influence upon me.
Methought I walked, with vast Crowds of fine and merry People, along a Road of a gentle and pleasant Descent, made easy to the Foot like the Mall in
London.
On a sudden, my Husband
Guilliam Rampant
stood beside me. I surveyed him with a Delight that I had never known before. He seemed to surpass in Beauty all the Persons around us; his Garments were embellished with Gold and Gems, and his Countenance shone with a wonderful Lustre.
Come, Miss
Phaebe,
said he, gracefully taking me by the Hand, come with me to yonder Paradise, where I will weave a Garland for you of never fading Flowers, and treat you to Fruits of a heavenly Flavour. Immediately, a vast Garden opened its Blooms and incomparable Beauties to my quickened Imagination. The Odours thereof perfumed the Air far and wide, and the burdened Trees reached forth Fruits of irresistible Temptation.
My Husband then plucked, and gave me to eat of the Clusters of the Grape and Apples of the Pine, which I seized and devoured with an intemperate Relish; when, happening to look down, I perceived that he had got the Legs and Hoofs of a Goat, and it instantly occurred that he could be no other than the Tempter of our first Parents. Terrified almost to Death, I did not dare to speak out; but, lifting up my Heart in a secret Prayer, He and his Paradise immediately vanished.
At once I found myself in a vast and dreary Wilderness, whose Trees were barren of Fruits and the Brambles of Berries; through which there was no Path, and from whence there was no Outlet. Go on what Side I would, I had scarce made my way through one Thicket when I was presented with another; till, being spent with Fatigue, I despaired of any Deliverance, and sat me down to die.
Soon after methought Mr.
Catharines
approached, in mean and beggared Apparel, but with a majestic and stern Countenance. Wretch! he cried, are you at length come to a Knowledge of the Evil of your Ways? are you now come to a Sense of your vile and forlorn Estate? do you find at last that I, alone, can be your Stay and your Helper? So saying, he seized me by the Hand, and his Touch filled my Frame with Confidence and Delight. We rose into the Air, we moved together over a boundless Tract of desert, from whence the Lions roared and the Wolves bayed at us. At length we alighted at the Entrance of a narrow Path that led up the Ascent of a mountainous Country. The nearer Side was covered with Clouds, and blasted by Tempest, through which the farther Part seemed to gleam with a faint Radiance that promised the rising Day.
Courage! said my Conductor, we must ascend this Mountain, in spite of all Opposition; in spite of the Toils, the Difficulties, and Dangers; the Pains, Calamities, Distresses, and Discouragements of the Way. No Obstacles, I cried, shall appal or discourage me, I will rejoice in Distresses and Pains while I have You by my Side.
Hereupon I felt wonderful Strength and Alacrity, I ran up the Ascent with a willing and eager Pace, and proposed in a few Minutes to reach the Top. But, alas! I was widely out in my Account. The Way became straiter, and steeper, and rougher. I began to fail through fatigue, and the edged Flints tore my Feet and marked my Footsteps with Blood. Ah! Sir, I cried, this is very grievous, indeed. Peace, said he, it is very salutary; these Flints are your kindest Friends, your truest Physicians; and the Wounds that they give your Body will be more than the Balm of
Gilead
to the healing of your Soul. I then summoned all my Powers and proceeded, though with much Anguish, which often compelled me to lean, with all my Weight, upon my Companion.
At length we came to a Pass that was thick set and interwoven with Briars and Thorns, and, seeing no way, I made a full Stop. Good cheer, cried my Guide, this must also be traversed, there is no quailing now, you must endure to the End, my Daughter. The Thorn was pronounced a Curse to the first
Adam
and his Posterity, but your second
Adam
has made it a Wreath of living Brightness; These, accordingly, are appointed to twist the Garland of your Blessedness, and to make you a Partaker of their Crown of eternal Glory.
Revived by this Promise, I rushed into the Midst, and struggled to get forward, though screaming with Anguish; but, when the Thorns rent my Skin, and entered into my Body and Soul, and lodged their Stings within me; I could endure no longer; but, casting myself on my Conductor, O that Death, that Death, I cried, would put an End to my Sufferings! He then turned and smiled upon me, and, taking me under his Arm, bore me harmless through the Remainder; then, seating me on a Bank, he placed himself beside me.
While I sat, still panting with Pain and Fatigue, He bent forward, and pulled off his Sandals. I then saw the large Wounds that the Spike had made. My Spirit instantly told me that it was my Lord, himself, under the Form of his Minister. I threw myself prostrate before him. My Bosom opened wide; and taking hold of his Feet, covered with Dust as they were, I pressed them to my Heart and would have thrust them into my Soul; when, on their Touch, I felt such an ecstatic Transport, that, if I had not awoke, my Body could no longer have retained my Spirit, it must instantly have issued to Him who breathed it.
The Consolation of this Dream greatly strengthened and restored me, and I hastened to get up that I might delight myself with serving the Servants of my Benefactors.
When Mrs.
Catharines
rose, she found me busied in the basest Employments of the Kitchen. She looked astonished. Why, my Dear, she cried, would you demean yourself in this Manner? O, Madam, I replied, I beseech you to leave me to my own Conscience, it tells me that even this Office is much too honourable for me.
When Breakfast was ready, Mr.
Catharines
came in from his Morning's Walk of Meditation. As he entered I cast myself before him and, clasping his Knees, cried, How blessed are the Feet of him who bringeth good Tidings of Salvation to Sinners! but, above all, blessed is he who beareth in his own Person the Image and Impression of the Prince of Peace! Being much surprised and abashed at my Manner of Salutation, he demanded the Reason of it, and I told my Dream, whereupon they were so affected, that they Both shed Tears of tender Congratulation.
I have already told you, Sir, that Mr.
Catharines
was Physician to the Bodies as well as Souls of all his Parishioners; I might have added, to all the Country about him.
For this Purpose, he provided a little kind of Apothecary's Shop where he kept all Manner of Drugs for the Sick, as well as Matters of Surgery for the Sore and the Wounded. On these Occasions I became his principal Deputy and Assistant. I was, myself, often astonished at the Effects of my Application in this Way. I scarce remember an Instance wherein I failed of Success. A Spirit of Healing seemed to accompany my Walks. I have frequently cured Those who were given up as irrecoverable by the Doctors and Surgeons. And I never had such heart-felt Delight as when, on my Knees, I bathed the Feet of the Sick, or washed the Ulcers of the Beggar; for in Them, methought, the great Physician of Sin-sick Souls lay before me, who had healed my own Woundings, and done away my Transgressions.
I should have told you, Sir, that when Mr.
Catharines
heard that I had stolen and dropped my little Nephew, the only Child of his best and most beloved Friend, He, that very Day, dispatched a Number of Emissaries to
Enfield,
and throughout all the adjacent Country, with Orders to make the most diligent Search and Enquiry after him; but, alas! all our Pains and Solicitudes, both then and afterwards, proved fruitless; this cost me, Day and Night, secret Deluges of Tears, and served to imbitter the happiest Life that otherwise, perhaps, could be spent upon Earth.
About three Months ago Mrs.
Catharines
began to decline, and peaceably dropped, like over-ripe Fruit, into the Lap of ourgeneral Mother.
Mr.
Catharines
had often desired my Permission to write to my Brother in my Favour; but, conscious of the Injury that I had done him in the Person of his Child, I had hitherto declined the Proposal. At length, however, I determined to throw myself at his Feet, and confess my Guilt, though without any Prospect of obtaining his Pardon; perhaps, said I, he may think on some more successful Means for the Discovery of his Son, than we have yet hit upon. My Benefactor approved of my Resolution; he wrote a Letter to my Brother by me; and within a few Days, I set out in his Chaise for
London.
On the Road, I took it into my Head once more to make Tryal of my Brother's Nature, and to present myself before him as an Object of his Charity. For this Purpose I dismissed the Chaise at
St. Alban's.
I also sent back my little Baggage with an Account of my Project in a Note to Mr.
Catharines,
and retained nothing but this poor Garb that I have on.
On that Night I was taken suddenly and extremely ill of a Cholic, and could keep nothing on my Stomach for the six following Days. I sent to
London
for a Physician, who attended and prescribed for me; and, by the time I was able to creep abroad, what with Fees to the Doctor, the Apothecary's Bill, and a still more exorbitant Bill from the Landlord, I had scarce three Sixpences left to bear my Charges to the City. With that Sum, however, I set forward on Foot; but, finding myself still very weak and sickly, I was tempted to repine for not having brought more Money from Home, but, again, I remembered that my Master had told me that Sufferings were the best Friends and Physicians to such a Sinner. I was, therefore, content and pleased to be once more reduced to the lowest State of Beggary, and, after three Days sore Travel, God was pleased to conduct me to your charitable Door.
This, Sir, is the Letter which my Friend wrote in my Favour to my Brother. You see it is open, but, before you read it, I ought to account to you, for some Touches of uncommon Tenderness, which Mr.
Catharines
has expressed toward me.
Some Weeks after the Funeral of his Lady, He and I stood chatting in the Front of the House. The Evening was exceeding pleasant, and the Maids sat singing and milking the Cows before us; when the great Bull, suddenly tearing up the Ground with his Feet, ran furiously at his Master. On seeing him approach, I shrieked and rushed into the House, but, observing that Mr.
Catharines
did not follow, I turned and ran as precipitately out again. There I saw that the terrible Creature had pinned him up, between his Horns, against the Wall, at which he butted with all his Force.
Then, casting Fear aside, I sprung up and, seizing the Bull by one of his Horns, would have torn him away from my dear Protector. But, my Strength not availing, I caught his Ear in my Mouth, and bit it through and through, while I endeavoured to tear out his Eyes with my Nails. In the mean time, a little favourite Mastiff, scarce bigger than two Fists, came happily out, and leaping up caught the monstrous Animal by the Nose, whereupon he gave a hideous Roar and, flinging away, ran kicking and leaping about the Yard.
I remembered nothing more till I awoke from a Swoon, and perceived that Mr.
Catharines
sat beside me. He held one of my Hands, which he had washed with his Tears, and which, at Times, he pressed to his Lips, and again to his Bosom.
When he had prevailed upon me to swallow a Spoonful of Cordial, O my
Phaebe,
my
Phaebe,
he cried, you have this Day offered up your precious Life, a Victim, for the Preservation of Mine, and, from this Day forward, my Life, and all that I am, is your Property for ever. But tell me, my
Phaebe,
whence could you get, in a Moment, such astonishing Intrepidity, how attain to the Power of acting against Nature, the constitutional Terrors and Delicacies of your Sex? Ah, Sir, I replied, the Book of Life tells us, that
perfect Love casteth Fear away.
From that Time Mr.
Catharines
earnestly pressed me to Marriage. My first, and my last, and my only Love, he would say, you know that in Womankind I can love nothing but You. Your whole Image, your every Feature is impressed upon my Soul; I am already wedded to them, they are inseparable from my Being. Why then do you wish to have me cast forth from my Species, as a withered Branch, without any kind of Fruit, without One, the least little One, to bind us up together, and carry us down to Posterity? O, Sir, I would then say, let not our Nuptials be sullied by any Gloom or Regret; let me first be reconciled, if possible, to my Brother, and then dispose of me as you please, it is your Right so to do.
I THANK you, Madam, said Mr.
Fenton,
I thank you for your very affecting and still more edifying Narrative; and I will endeavour to recompense you for the Trouble that I have given you by being the Bearer of very happy Tidings. Your little Nephew has lived with me almost ever since you lost him. He has received an Education becoming his Family, and was this Day discovered and restored to his Parents.
My God, my Christ, she exclaimed, what a Wonder is here! how are blind and erring Mortals, wilfully blind and wilfully erring, deserving of such a Clue as this to guide them? My Nephew alive and well, discovered and restored this very Day to his true Parents !    I am confounded, I am crushed to the Centre beneath the Weight of thy Benefits, O, thou overflowing Fountain of Mercy and Grace!
Now, Madam, said Mr.
Fenton,
now it is at your Election to reveal or suppress the Affair respecting your Nephew. I know, Sir, she replied, you proposed this only to try me; I desire no Advantage from Fraud or Disguise, and, could I be so base, this Letter, as you will find, would detect and betray me.
Mr.
Fenton
then unfolded the Letter, and read as follows:
TO EDWARD FIELDING,
Esq
Friend and Brother of my Soul,
I Have often reproved and always detested that cruel and impious Custom of casting off our Friends, or Kindred, on account of their Errors or Frailty, or even of their Fall from Honour. This Custom is more especially condemnable and pernicious, when it affects the more tender and more pitiable Sex; the Indiscretion of their nearest Parents begins the Alarm; the World follows and increases the Cry; the Wretches, like marked Deer, are driven forth to the Hounds, and must speedily become a Prey to Famine and Death, or for ever be precluded from any Return to Virtue.
Had You, my dear Brother, had you given that Charity to your only Sister which you slightly throw to a common Beggar, you might have saved her Soul alive, and have continued a happy Parent of a promising Son at this Day. She resented your Treatment, She rent your Child from you, you merited the Motive, but I am grieved at the Consequence.
As God has been pleased wonderfully to restore your Sister to Virtue, she would rejoice to restore your Son to you; but it is not in her Power, he strayed from her within some Miles of this Place; we have used all possible Means to recover him, but in vain; and his Loss hath cost her Seas of Tears, and Years of Anguish.
Receive her, then, as a precious Pearl from the Bottom of the Deep, as a Casket of Gold and Jewels recovered from Shipwreck; She was dead but is alive again, she was lost but is found. Receive her then, I say, as an Angel of God sent on Purpose to effect your own Salvation.
I know not how it comes to pass that great Sinners often become the greatest of Saints, and, in a Year, a Month, a Day, exceed in Growth and Stature a long Life of leisurely Righteousness. Their Bows, as it should seem, being strongly bent the adverse Way, they dart forward with the greater Strength and Rapidity. It is even so with our precious
Phaebe.
She is become a gentle Flame of the divine Loves and Charities. While she stands upon Earth and Bends, in her Lowliness, beneath all Creatures, the Moon of changeable Things is put under her Feet. She treads, as it were, upon the Stars of the Galaxy; and I behold, at a Distance, and revere the Glory of her Steps.
Receive her then, I say again, as the dearest Boon and Blessing that Heaven can bestow. But, O, restore her to me; give her to me, according to Promise, that she may assist to conduct me to that Kingdom of little Children whereof she is a blessed Inhabitant at this very Day.
Yours, &c. M. CATHARINES.
You see, Sir, said Mrs.
Phaebe
smiling, you see that Mr.
Catharines
must be a Lover, by the Extravagance of his Praise. I see, Madam, said Mr.
Fenton,
that he deservedly loves; and greatly deserves also to be beloved. But, Madam, if you will be ruled by my Advice, you will stay here till your Brother shall call upon me, which I expect he will do in a very little Time. Mean while I will introduce you to a Sister-Saint, who has been long tried and refined in the hottest Furnace of Affliction.
The very next Morning Mr.
Fielding
rode to the Door, attended only by a single Servant. As soon as he had saluted Mr.
Fenton,
and sat down, he took out a Note for 2000
l.
and presented it to him. You must not refuse, Sir, said he, to relieve my Distress, by accepting this in Part of what I owe You. I can spare it, without the smallest Inconvenience. I have lately recovered a Tract of Land that lies contiguous to Mr.
Catharines,
the worthy Man of whom you heard me speak Yesterday; so that I shall soon have the Pleasure of taking Possession of a considerable Accession to my Fortune, and, at the same Time, the greater Pleasure of embracing so very dear a Friend. This Sum, Sir, said Mr.
Fenton,
comes very seasonably to the Relief of a Person for whom I have conceived an extraordinary Esteem and Affection, a Person who is entitled to my best Service, and who may also be entitled to your further Munificence. So saying, Mr.
Fenton
rose, went to the Door, took Mrs.
Phaebe
by the Hand, and leading her toward her Brother, this Sir, said he, is the Gentlewoman of whom I spoke, and whom I recommend to your tenderest Regards.
Mr.
Fielding
looked earnestly and inquisitively at his Sister, changed Colour, and, for a while, sat mute with Astonishment; when, suddenly rising, and stepping hastily to her, he clasped her in his Arms, and cried aloud, my
Phaebe,
my dearest
Phaebe,
my long lost, long sought, my long lamented Sister! have I found you at last, are my Prayers at length heared, and are you once more restored to my Bosom, my Sister! Ah, what must have been your Sufferings, what have I not suffered myself, from the stinging Recollection of the Barbarity of my Behaviour? But, at the Time that you applied to me, I was exasperated against you, by being told you had turned out a common Prostitute; and, from your Connection with that Reprobate to whom my Father had unhappily married You, I was ready to believe the worst that could be reported concerning You. Pardon me, however, my
Phaebe,
do but promise me your Pardon, and I will endeavour to compensate for my injurious Treatment of You.
Here, the Sister dropped on her Knees, and, breaking into Tears and Sobs, replied, you want no Pardon, my Brother, you never wronged me. --I deserved all Sorts of Evils; they were due to my Transgressions --but I have injured you, I fear past Forgiveness, my Brother. --It was I who stole your little Darling, who robbed you of your only Child, and caused you so many Years of Sorrow and Bitterness. --I deserved it, I deserved it at your Hands, exclaimed Mr.
Fielding;
let us then exchange Forgiveness, my
Phaebe,
for our Child is restored to us, and we remember our Sorrows no more. So saying, his Eyes filled, and, tenderly raising his Sister, he took her again to his Bosom.
Mr.
Fenton,
wholly melted by this passionate Scene, took them jointly in his Arms, and then silently seated them opposite to Each other.
My Sister, said Mr.
Fielding,
you have promised me your Pardon, before you were acquainted with the Extent of my Faults. Our dear Father, in his last Illness, made me sit by his Side; when, heaving a deep Sigh, he thus begun. I fear, I fear, my Son, that I have greatly wronged your Sister. I grieve at Heart that I had her married to that Ruffian
Rampant.
With a little less of Severity and more of tender Admonition, she might have arisen from her Fall; she might have returned to Virtue and Honour; her Errors might have been forgotten, perhaps restored to Rectitude; She might have been less wretched, and my Days might have been longer. She was young, she was artless and obvious to Seduction. I, myself, joined to betray her, by that she Wolf whom I appointed the Guardian of my Lamb. Perhaps, as she affirmed, her Inclination no way concurred with the Force that was offered her. We ought, as far as possible, to have covered her Shame; Shame only serves to bronze over a bashful Countenance, and make it altogether Shameless. Alas, my Child, all Things appear quite different, at my Death, from what they did during my Life-time; and the Pride of Blood, and the Resentment for injured Gentility give Place to the Calls of Nature and the Feelings of Humanity.
I intended your Sister five thousand Pounds, but by my Will I have cut her off with a Shilling, lest the Villain, her Husband, should come in for any Share of our Substance. Wherefore I leave You, in my Place, at once the Father, the Brother, and the Guardian of my dear Child --and here his bursting Tears prevented another Word.
As soon as he was more composed he proceeded. I adjure you, my Son, in the Name of our common Father, in the Name of that God to whom I am going, I adjure you, I say, to keep a constant Watch over the Conduct of your still precious Sister, my Son! and (if such a One may be found) to keep in Fee some discreet and pious Matron, who may insinuate into her Acquaintance, and gain her Confidence, and preserve her from a further Progress in the Paths of Vice; for O, the Soul of my wrecked Child, at this Hour, is infinitely precious in my Eyes.
I further enjoin you that, in case the Reprobate, her Husband, should perish by Sword or Pistol, or by the Gallows, as is most likely, you will pay your Sister the Sum of three thousand Pounds, but gradually at first, as her Necessities may crave, and the Whole, on your Assurance of her Return to Virtue.
While her Brother was speaking, Mrs.
Phaebe,
had thrown her Apron over her Face, and by her Groans and passionate Sobs prevented his Proceeding. At length she exclaimed, Wretch, Parricide that I am! I have cut short the sacred Life of him who brought me to the World. You then loved me, my Father, you still continued to love me, though I knew it not; and I have murdered the kindest, the tenderest of Parents, but I will die to make Atonement, I will not survive you, my Father!
Mr.
Fielding
then arose, and stepped affectionately to his Sister, and taking her in his Arms, and mixing his Tears with hers, endeavoured to console her. You did not, my dearest Sister, you did not murder him, he cried; you accuse yourself of Faults of which you are no way guilty. Our Father was aged, and laboured under a Complication of Disorders that must, shortly, have put a Period to all that was mortal in him. Be comforted then, I say be comforted, my Sister!
When Mr.
Fielding
had resumed his Seat, and that the Violence of his Sister's Passion had subsided, he looked earnestly and tenderly at her. I will, said he, my
Phaebe,
at some other Time, account to you for the Motive of my Barbarity toward you, and how I was imposed upon by the very Person whom I kept in pay to give me Intelligence concerning you. But tell me how it comes to pass that, in my Life, I never saw you look so charmingly? even during your infant Years, you never had such a sweet Simplicity, such a heavenly Childishness of Countenance as you now have. It is, said Mr.
Fenton,
because she is the King's Daughter,
she is all glorious within,
and the Loveliness of her Spirit informs and shines through her Aspect. --But here is a known Character that will fully clear up the Matter. --And so saying, he presented him with the Letter from Mr.
Catharines,
when, at the Sight of the Superscription, Mr.
Fielding
gave an Exclamation of Surprise. --Then, unfolding, he read it in deep Silence, but by Fits, and Interruption; frequently putting, and long holding his Handkerchief to his Eyes.
As soon as he had finished --Yes, yes, my dear
Catharines,
my Brother, he cried, the Wish of my Heart shall be accomplished for us both. You shall have your
Phaebe
restored to you, and she shall be restored to you with
Benjamin's
Portion, even a double Portion! --But, O my God, how wonderful, how miraculous is all this! to have my only Child, and my only Sister, at once restored to me by one and the same Hand! Teach me, teach me, Mr.
Fenton,
by some new Method of Gratitude, to express a Part of the Sense of what I owe you!
You have already, Sir, cried Mr.
Fenton,
done and said by much too much upon that Head, and have thereby given me great Pain instead of Gratification. The Payment that I get is a Treasure hidden from all Men, save him to whom it is given. I will not, however, do you the Offence to return you your Bill, but shall dispose of it in a Manner that, I trust, will be nearly as equitable. Mean while, my dear Friend, I most cordially congratulate you on the signal Evidences that have been given of the Favour of your God to you, and of his watchful and intending Providence over You and Yours. I suppose you will soon set out, with your amiable Sister here, on your Visit to your Friend and Brother the worthy Mr.
Catharines.
I shall heartily pray for a blisful Issue to the Union of the sainted Pair, and I request you to favour me with a Call on your Way.
Within an Hour after, Mr.
Fielding
set off for
London,
on Horseback; and
Harry
accompanied his Sister, in Mr.
Fenton
's Post-chaise, upon a short Visit to his Friend
Ned.
As soon as they were departed, Mr.
Fenton
took Paper, and wrote the following Letter to Mr.
Catharines.
Reverend and dear Sir,
ALLOW a Stranger, but a very warm Lover of yours, to felicitate you with his whole Heart on the Success of Affairs. Our precious
Phoebe
was received with Transport by her Brother, and you cannot be more impatient than he is for your Union. He generously presented me with the enclosed Bill for 2000
l.
merely because God had appointed me an humble Instrument for doing him some little Matter of Service. Though I determined not to accept of any Part thereof, yet I dreaded to grieve him by an avowed Refusal. I therefore restore it to you and your
Phaebe,
as a Matter of Equity next to that of returning it to himself. It is surely full as proper that your Family should take charge of that wherewith Providence had been pleased to entrust them, as that I should be encumbered with the disposal thereof. And indeed, my dear Sir, I am already burdened with more Trusts of this Nature than, I fear, I shall be able duely to account for.
That your Heart may always continue where your true Treasure is already laid up, is the Wish of, dear Sir, &c.
When he had folded and sealed his Letter, he took Bills from his Pocket-book to the amount of 1300
l.
and, on Harry's Return from
London,
presented them to him. Here, my Dear, said he, here is what will enable you to be more than just to your Engagements, it will enable you to be generous also. And I desire, my
Harry,
in Matters of Charity, that you may never stint the sweet Emotions of your Heart; for we have enough, my Child, and we are but the Stewards of the Bounty of our God.
Here
Harry
's Speech was stopped, but his Silence was more eloquent than a thousand Harangues. He suddenly threw his Arms about his dear Dada, and, hiding his Face in his Bosom, he there vented the Tears of that Pleasure, Love, and Gratitude, with which he found himself affected.
On the Afternoon of the following Day
Harry
and
Arabella
went to drink Tea with the Widow
Neighbourly,
who received them with a Countenance that spoke an uncommon Welcome. Some other Company had arrived before them, and rose on their Entrance. When All were again seated, Mrs.
Neighbourly,
very affectionately questioned
Harry
concerning his Dada.
On hearing the Name of Master
Fenton,
an elderly Gentlewoman started. Pray, Madam, said she eagerly, is this Master
Fenton,
the Son of that noble Gentleman who lives on the Hill? He is, Madam, said Mrs.
Neighbourly.
My God! exclaimed the Stranger, can this Suckling be the Father of the Orphan and the Widow? Is this He who goes about turning Sorrow into Joy? Who wipes the Tears from the Afflicted, and heals the Broken of Heart? Permit me then, thou beloved Child of the Father which is in Heaven, permit me to approach and throw myself at the Feet of my Preserver!
So saying, she rose with a rapturous Motion, and, dropping at
Harry
's Knees, she clasped his Legs and kissed his Feet, before he could prevent her.
Poor
Harry,
much to be pitied, sat astonished, abashed, and distressed to the last Degree. At length, recollecting, and disengaging himself with Difficulty, my dear Madam, he cried, you hurt me greatly, what have I done that you should put me to so much Pain?
Babe of my Heart, she cried, I am the Wife of your
Vindex,
your own
Vindex,
whom you redeemed from Beggary and Slavery; whom you restored to his wretched Partner, whom you restored to his infant Daughter; All pining and perishing apart from Each other, but now united by you, my Angel, in Joy and Thanksgiving.
Here, her Words were suffocated, and throwing herself back in her Chair, she was not ashamed to give Way to her Tears, and putting her Handkerchief to her Face, she vented her Passion aloud.
Harry
then rising, and going tenderly to her, put his Arms about her, and kissed her Forehead, and then her Lips. You owe me nothing, my dear Mrs.
Vindex,
said he, I am still greatly in your Debt: I was the very naughty Boy who brought your Misfortunes upon you. But I am willing to make you Amends, and that will do me a great Pleasure, instead of the Punishment which I deserve.
The Tea-table was now laid, and Mrs.
Vindex
grew more composed; when her Husband entered, leading his Daughter by the Hand, a very pretty little Girl of about six Years old.
Harry
instantly sprung up, and running, and throwing himself with a great Leap upon him, he hung about his Neck, crying, how glad I am to see you, my dear Mr.
Vindex!
Boy of Boys, cried
Vindex,
am I so blessed as to have you once more in my Arms!
The Company then rose and saluted Mr.
Vindex,
and congratulated him on his Return to his ancient Habitation. But
Harry
took him aside, and having cautioned him, in a Whisper, not to take any Notice of what should pass, he stole a Bill for 160
l.
into his Hand, saying softly, it is good first to be honest, so there is what I owe you. And here also is a small Matter for your Daughter; I did not know, till now, that we had such a sweet little Charge in our Family. So saying, he slipped to him another Bill of 50
l.
and then, turning from him, stepped carelessly to his Seat, as though nothing had happened.
Mean time the astonished
Vindex
was greatly oppressed. He did not dare to offend
Harry
by any open Intimation of his recent Bounty, and yet he could feel no Ease till the Secret should be disclosed. He therefore stole softly to the Back of our Hero's Chair, where, unperceived of
Harry,
he displayed the Bills to the Company, beckoning, at the same time, in a way that forbade them to take any Notice; then, raising his Hands over his Head, and lifting his Eyes toward Heaven, he blessed his Benefactor, in a silently ardent Ejaculation, and, taking an empty Seat, joined in with the Company.
While they were in Chat, the little
Susanna
slipped, unnoticed, from beside her Mamma, and veering over toward
Harry,
she went on one Side, and then on the other, and surveyed him all about; then, coming closer, she felt his Clothes, and next his Hands, in the Way, as it were, of claiming Acquaintance with him. At length, looking fondly up to his Face, she lisped and said, Me voud kiss Oo, if oo voud ask me. Indeed then, said
Harry,
me vill kiss oo, fedder oo vill or no. And so, catching her up on his Knee, he pressed her to his Bosom, and kissed her over and over again.
You All see, cried Mr.
Vindex,
it is not One of the Elders with whom our
Susanna
has fallen in love. My sweet Babe, cried Mrs.
Vindex,
her little Heart instinctively led her to her best Friend, to the One of All living who best deserved her Love. Miss
Susanna,
said Mrs.
Clement,
put me in Mind of some very delicate Lines in
Milton,
respecting our Virgin Mother. For she also refused to kiss the loveliest Man that ever was created, at least till she was asked.
--  And though divinely brought,
  Yet Innocence and virgin Modesty,
  Her Virtue and the Conscience of her Worth,
  That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won,
  Not obvious, nor obtrusive, but retired,
  The more desirable.    
It is happy, said Mrs.
Neighbourly,
for our weakly and over-affectionate Sex, that God has been pleased to fix a Monitor within us, who struggles against our Inclinations, who fights against our Affections, and is, with Difficulty, won over to acquiesce in our Desires. I know not else, what might become of the most of Womankind.
But then, said Mrs.
Vindex,
are we not rather to be pitied, that, even when our Propensities are warrantable, we are prohibited, by Custom, from giving any Intimation thereof to the Object. While the licentious Reprobate, Man, roves and riots at large and unreproved, beyond the Pale over which it is Treason for us to look.
I do not pity you, Ladies, said Mr.
Vindex,
I do not at all pity you on Account of any Restraints, that Custom has laid you under, respecting Chastity, or its Environs, called Decorum. The Chastity of Woman is the only Basis upon which the Order, Honour, and Peace of the World can be built. It twists the sacred and endearing Chord of Society. Without it there could be no Amity, no Brotherhood upon Earth. But then, surely, there is much Respect and Tenderness due to those from whom such Advantages are derived. Whereas I have observed, on the contrary, that the most Amiable of your Sex are generally mated to Tyrants; to Men who, being born and appointed their Protectors, pervert every End of Nature and Duty, and treat with Injury, Contempt, and Insult, the gentle Saints whom they should have cherished with their most respectful Endearments.
The Question yet occurs, said
Arabella,
whether your Devils of Husbands find us Angels, or make us Such. Tyrants are like Files, they serve to smooth and polish whatever they are applied to. I was once in Company with a Man who was called the Saint-Maker, he had married five Shrews, in Succession, and made
Grizels
of every One of them before they died.
But pray, Ladies, said
Harry,
are there no Tyrants among the Wives? I lately took a Walk to
Tower-Hill,
and, growing hungry, I turned in to a little Shop of Groceries. A slender skinny Woman, of about four Foot high, stood behind the Counter, and taking out a Sixpence, I threw it on the Board, and desired her to give me the Value in Almonds and Raisins. She had scarce weighed my Merchandise, when a huge jolly looking Quaker came up to the Hatch Door, but seemed fearful of opening it. The Moment the little Woman had cast her Eye toward him, she exclaimed, in a shrill and exasperated Accent, Art thee there, thou Rogue, thou Hangdog, thou Gallows-faced Vagabond? when, gathering up the whole Dignity and Importance of his Person, and clapping a Hand on each Side, he cried, with an undaunted Air,  
I tell thee,
Mary,
I fear thee not!
  Ah, thou Villain, she vociferated, dares thee then appear in my Presence? get thee back to thy Fellows and Husseys on whom thee spendest my Substance! still, however, he kept his Ground, and courageously repeated  
I tell thee,
Mary,
I fear thee not!
  Not fear me? Sirrah, Sirrah, not fear me, says she, we shall see that in a Twinkling. So saying, she whipped up the measuring Yard, and skudding round the Counter, she flew to the Door. But he was already vanished as fast as his fat Sides would let him. And, to tell you the Truth, Ladies, there was something so authoritative and tremendous in the little Body's Voice and Manner, that I was glad to get out and to skamper after him.
The Company laughed heartily, and Mr.
Vindex
added: I forget the Hero's Name, a great General he was, and I think a
Frenchman.
He won every Battle abroad, but was sure to be beaten in his Turn also, as often as he returned Home to his Wife.
Well said
Hercules
and the Distaff, cries
Harry;
but to the Point, the bravest Man I know is one
Peter Patience,
a Currier, who lives in the Suburbs. My Tutor and I were walking one Day through
Islington,
when we perceived the Likelihood of a Scuffle at a Distance.
As we approached, we saw one Man making up, with great Fury, to Another who would have avoided him, and who, retiring backward across the Street, parried his Blows, and kept him off as well as he could. His enraged Adversary would then have closed in upon him, but, grasping his Shoulder with a long and very strong Arm, he still held his Enemy aloof, who nearly spent all his Efforts and Blows in the Air.
Never did I see so living a Representation of Heaven and of Hell as was visible in the Faces of those two Men. The Muscles of the One were frightfully distorted, his Eyes shot fire, and his Mouth frothed with Madness: While the Countenance of the Other was as a Lake, in a Summer's Evening, that shows Heaven in its Bosom, and reflects all the Beauties of Nature around it.
Be quiet,
Ben,
he said, you know that I wou'dn't hurt you, you know that I love you. What a Fool the Man makes of himself, are you not sensible that I could demolish you with a single Blow, but I cannot find in my Heart to do it. Be quiet,
Ben,
I say, I see you want to vex me, but I won't be vexed by you, my dear
Ben.
While the gentle
Peter
was thus expostulating with his exasperated Friend, Mrs.
Patience,
as it should seem, had seen all that passed from an upper Casement, and flying down Stairs, and rushing out at the Door, she seized her Husband, behind, by the Hair of his Head, and tore and cuffed away at a terrible Rate.
Poor
Peter,
finding himself thus between two Fires, gave a slight Trip to his male Assailant who, instantly, fell with his Shoulder against the Pavement, and, rising with Difficulty, limped homeward, muttering Curses all the Way.
Then
Peter,
turning meekly to the Lady Mistress of his House,
Gatty,
my Love, says he, what have I done to provoke you ?    O, she cried, you mean spirited, Hare-hearted, Milk-livered Poltroon; I'll teach you what it is to suffer every Fellow to pommel you !    Sirrah, Sirrah (and still she cuffed) I'll have you tied down at the Foot of the Market Cross, with Notice on your Breast, for All who pass to p  s upon you.
Then, quite angry to see the Man so abused, to whom I had taken such a Fancy, I rushed in between Man and Wife, and seized Mrs.
Patience
by both her Hands; but wrenching One of them from me, she gave me a round Cuff on the Side of my Head. I was, however, too well used to Cuffs to matter that much; and so, catching one of her Hands in both of mine, I gave her a Pluck to me, and a Foot at the same time, and laid her on the Broad of her Back in the Kennel.
My Friend
Peter
looked quite astonished at this, and fearing what might happen to me, on the rising up of his Wife, he tucked me like a Gizzard under the Wing of a Turkey, and off he scoured with me down the Street, while Mr.
Clements
also made pretty nimbly after us, for Fear, as I suppose, that Mrs.
Patience,
when on her Legs, might take him for One of our Company.
As soon as we had turned a Corner, and were out of Harm's Way, honest
Peter
set me down. My Friend, says I, if you would be advised by me, you will not be in a mighty Hurry to get back to your Wife; I see a House of Entertainment yonder, and I wish to be further acquainted with you. Adad, said he, you are the boldest little Body that ever I knew; you performed a Feat, to Day, that made me tremble for you. Had any other Man though used my Wife so  but I pass that Matter over; I see you're too great a Hero to be threatened by any One, and I should consider that you did what you did for my Sake.
So saying, we all went into a Sort of a Tavern, and, being shown to a little Parlour, I called for a Pint of Whitewine.
As soon as we were seated, I took my new Acquaintance very lovingly by the Hand. My dear Friend, said I, I have conceived a great Respect and Fondness for you, and should be glad to know who and what you are. I am a Currier by Trade, Sir, and my Name is
Peter Patience.
You are Patience itself, indeed, said Mr.
Clement,
but your Wife, as I think, has taken the whole Trade of the Currier into her own Hands.
Peter
laughed and replied, She is a dear and a sweet Girl as ever lay by the Side of a Man, and she loves me as she loves her own Soul. Her Blows were sweet Blows to me, they were the Blows of her Affection. For, though I did not matter the Strokes of my Friend
Benjamin
a single Philip, yet every one of them went to her Heart, and she wanted to frighten me from ever taking the like again.
But pray, says I, how happened the Quarrel between you and your Friend
Benjamin,
as you call him? Why, there it is too, said
Peter,
he also beat me, out of his downright and true hearted Kindness to me.
As this is Holiday in the Afternoon, among us Trade-folk,
Ben Testy
invited me to share of a Can of Flip, at the Cat and Bagpipes over the way. Just as we sat down,
Peter,
says he, I am told that your
Gatty
is with Child; I believe it may be so, says I. I am glad of it,
Peter,
with all my Heart; and so now remember that I bespeak myself Gossip. Why that may happen, says I, just as Matters shall turn out. If the Child is a Boy, you shall be one of the Godfathers and welcome; but if it is a Girl, this cannot be, for my Uncle
Geoffry
has already engaged himself, and I have some Expectations from him. And so, says he, you refuse to admit me for your Gossip. If it is a Girl, says I, you see that I cannot. O, he cried, I had forgot, I was a Rascal for proposing it, You're of high Blood, have high Relations, and so scorn to have Connexions with a poor Tradesman like me. That is not the Case indeed, my dear
Ben,
but  Damn your Dears, says he, I will have no more of them, you are a covetous Scoundrel and value Money more than Love. Well, says I, but will you be patient, will you hear Reason, my Friend? Friend, Friend, says he, my Curse upon all such Friendships! I see into you now. You're an ungrateful, unloving, cold-hearted Villain, and I would sooner be Godfather to the Child of the Turk. So saying, he struck at me, and repeated his Blows across the Table. But, as I saw that his Choler was enflaming more and more, I got up and retreated, merely intending to defend myself till his Passion should be spent upon me. But you saw what happened, Gentlemen, which I am heartily sorry for, as I fear that my poor dear Fellow is much hurt.
Well, said my Tutor, I have heard many Definitions, and many Disputes concerning the Word Courage, but I never saw the Thing itself, till this Day. Pray Mr.
Peter,
were you never angry? Scarce ever, Sir, that I remember, at least on my own Account, for I do not fear any Man that steps upon Earth, and what is it then that should make me angry? A Man may be angry, said Mr.
Clement,
from other Motives sure, besides that of Fear. God himself can be angry, and yet he cannot possibly fear.
I am feelingly assured, Sir, replied the valiant
Peter,
that God was never angry in his whole Life, and that is a long Time that has neither Beginning nor Ending. Don't you believe the Gospel, says Mr.
Clement;
the Scripture assures us, in a hundred Places, of the Anger of God against impenitent Sinners. I am the Son of a Clergyman, Sir, said
Peter,
and mayhap could quote Scripture as well as Another. The Scriptures were written for Man, but how should Man understand them, if they were not written according to his own Language and to his own Passions? I will ask you a Question, Sir, Can you be angry at a Mite or a Worm which you can crush into nothing at pleasure? I think not, said my Tutor. No certainly, said
Peter,
because you cannot fear a thing that has not Power to offend you. Now, all the World is but as a Worm or Mite to God, and neither Men nor Angels can disturb or affect him with any thing, except Delight, on their Acceptance of that Happiness which he desires to give to all his Creatures.
Ay but, says Mr.
Clement,
you see that God's Anger and Indignation was so great against Sin, that nothing could satisfy for it save the Death of his beloved Son. Ay but, says
Peter,
the Scripture, which you quote, tells you that it was not his Anger but his Love that sent him to us.
For God so loved the World
(a very sinful World indeed)
that he gave his only begotten Son to take his Death upon the Cross.
And I am as fully assured, as I am of my own Being, that the same gracious God, who has already redeemed poor Sinners, would willingly redeem the poor Devils also, if they could but find in their Hearts to desire his Salvation.
Here, catching and clasping his Hand, my dear
Peter,
says I, I embrace and wish from my Heart that your Doctrine may be true. I have many Tutors, Mr.
Peter,
and my Dada pays them all with Pleasure for the Instructions that they give me. Tell me then, Mr.
Peter,
what must he give you for the Lesson which you have taught me? What Lesson, my Hero? a very precious Lesson, says I, a Lesson that will always teach me
to despise myself for a Coward whenever I shall be angry.
Peter
then sprung up, without speaking a Word, and hugged, and clasped, and kissed me with all his Affections. Then, plucking a Button from the upper Part of my Coat, I will accept of this Token, my Darling, says he, and will look at it, many a time in the Day, for your Sake.
But Mr.
Peter,
says I, I think it would be my Advantage to keep up an Acquaintance with you, and this cannot be so well done, while your dear
Gatty
is angry with me. You must therefore promise me to carry a Token to her also, as an Olive Branch of that Peace which I want to be made between us. I will, my Love, says he, I never refuse to give or accept the Favours of a Friend. You must be upon Honour then, not to reject what I offer You. I am upon Honour, he said.
I then slipped Something into his Hand, at which he looked and looked again; and then cried out, from the overflowings of a good and grateful Heart, You are either of the Blood Royal, or ought to be so. For the Man was very poor, though so very sensible and well descended, and so he looked upon a little as a great Matter.
Here,
Harry
closed his Narration, and all the Company gathered about him, and nearly smothered him with their Caresses, in which little
Susanna
came in for her full Share.
On the following Day,
Harry
introduced his Friend
Vindex
and Family to his dear Dada, who received them with a Graciousness that soon dispelled that awkward Diffidence and humbling Sense of Obligations, under which the late unhappy Preceptor apparently sunk.
As soon as it was known abroad that Mr.
Vindex
enjoyed the Patronage and good Countenance of Mr.
Fenton
and his Family, his former Friends resorted to him, his Acquaintance was sought by all the Neighbourhood, his Credit was restored, his School daily increased, and, like
Job,
his latter End was far more blessed than his Beginning.
Within a few Weeks, Mr. and Mrs.
Fielding,
with their Sister
Phoebe,
our Friend
Ned,
and a splendid Equipage, called and breakfasted at Mr.
Fenton's;
and, soon after, Mr.
Fenton
and his
Harry,
with Mr. and Mrs.
Clement,
attended their Visitants to
St. Albans,
where, All together, they spent the happiest Night: But that this Happiness was blended, at times, with the affecting Consideration of parting in the Morning.
For two succeeding Years and upward, little interesting happened, save that our Hero increased in Stature and all personal Accomplishments, and had happily got over the Measles and Small-Pox. He was now nearly Master of the
Latin
and
Greek
Languages. He could outrun the Rain-Deer, and outbound the Antelope. He was held in Veneration by all Masters of the noble Science of Defence. His Action was Vigour, his Countenance was Loveliness, and his Movement was Grace.
Harry,
by this time, was also versed in most of the select and interesting Portions of History. Mr.
Clement
had instructed him in the use of the Globes and Maps, and, as he there led him from Clime to Clime and Country to Country, he brought him acquainted with the different Manners, Customs, Laws, Polities, Governments, Rise, Progress, and Revolutions of the several Nations through which they passed. Finally, said
Clement,
you see, Master
Fenton,
that the mightiest States, like Men, have the Principles of Growth, as likewise of Dissolution within their own Frame. Like Men, they are born and die, have their Commencement and their Period. They arise, like the Sun, from the Darkness of
Poverty,
to
Temperance, Industry, Liberty, Valour, Power, Conquest, Glory,
(OPULENCE) and there is their Zenith. From whence they decline, to
Ease, Sensuality, Venality, Vice, Corruption, Cowardice, Imbecility, Infamy, Slavery.
And so good Night!
Mr.
Fenton
now judged it full time to give our Hero an Insight into the Nature of the Constitution of his own Country; a Constitution, of whose Construction, Poise, Action, and Counteraction, the lettered Mr.
Clement
had scarcely any Notion, and even the Learned in our Laws, and the Leaders in our Senate, but a very confused Idea.
For this especial Purpose he called
Harry
to his Closet. You are already, my Love, said he, a Member of the
British State,
and, on that Account, have many Privileges to claim, and many Duties to perform toward your Country in particular, independent of your general Duties to Mankind.
Should it please God to bless your Friends with the Continuance of your Life for eight or ten Years longer, you will then be a Member of the Legislature of GREAT BRITAIN, one of the highest and most important Trusts that can be confided by Mankind.
Here, my
Harry,
I have penned or rather pencilled, for your use, an Abstract in Miniature of this wonderful Constitution. But, before I give it, for your Study and frequent Perusal, I would give you some Knowledge of the Claims whereon it is founded, as also of the Nature of Man in his present depraved State, and of his several Relations as a Subject and as a Sovereign.
Man comes into this World, the weakest of all Creatures, and, while he continues in it, is the most dependent. Nature neither cloathes him with the warm Fleece of the Sheep, nor, the gay Plumage of the Bird; neither does he come forth in the Vigour of the Fole or the Fawn, who, on the Hour of their Birth, frisk about and exult in the Blessing of new Existence.
Sacred History, indeed, intimates that Man was originally created invulnerable and immortal, that the Fire could not burn him, Stones wound, Air blast, or Water drown him. That he was the angelic Lord and Controller of this Earth, and these Heavens that roll around us; with Powers to see, at once, into the Essences, Natures, Properties, and Distinctions of Things; to unfold all their Virtues, to call forth all their Beauties, and to rule, subdue, and moderate these Elements at Pleasure.
These, truly, were Godlike Gifts, illustrious Powers and Prerogatives, and well becoming an Offspring produced in the EXPRESS IMAGE of an all-potent, all-wise, and all-beneficent CREATOR.
True Sir, said
Harry,
but then we see nothing, now, of all this Greatness and Glory. Man, on the contrary, is himself subjected to all the Elements over which, you say, he was appointed the Ruler; he has every thing to fear from every thing about him, even the Insects and little Midges fearlessly attack and sting this boasted Lord of the Creation; and History shows, from the Beginning of the World, that the greatest of all Enemies to Man, is Man.
This, replied Mr.
Fenton,
is continually to remind him of the depraved and guilty State into which he is fallen. Man indeed is now no better than the Remains of Man; but then these Remains are sufficient to prove the Lustre and Dignity of his original State. When you behold the Ruins of some lofty and spacious Palace, you immediately form an Idea of the original Beauty and Stateliness of the Structure. Even so, in our present feeble and fractured State, a discerning Eye may discover many Traces and Fragments of MAN'S MAGNIFICENT RUIN, Thoughts that wing Infinity; Apprehensions that reach through Eternity; a Fancy that creates; an Imagination that contains a Universe; Wishes that a World hath not wherewithal to gratify; and Desires that know neither Ending nor Bound.
These, however, are but the faint Glimmerings of his once glorious Illumination; All his primitive Faculties are now lapsed and darkened; He is become enslaved to his natural Subjects; The World is wrested out of his Hands; he comes as an Alien into it, and may literally be called
a Stranger and Pilgrim upon Earth.
All other Animals are gifted with a clear Knowledge and instant Discernment of whatever concerns them. Man's utmost Wisdom, on the contrary, is the bare Result of
comparing
and
inferring,
a mere
Enquirer
called
Reason,
a
Substitute
in the want of
Knowledge,
a
Groper
in the want of
Light,
he must
doubt
before he
reasons,
and
examine
before he
decides.
Thus ignorant, feeble, deeply depraved, and the least sufficient, of all Creatures, in a state of Independence, Man is impelled to derive Succour, Strength, and even Wisdom from Society. When he turns a pitying Ear and helping Hand to the Distressed, he is entitled, in his Turn, to be heared and assisted. He is interested in Others, Others are interested in him. His Affections grow more diffused, his Powers more complicated; and, in any Society or System of such mutual Benevolence, Each would enjoy the Strength, Virtue, and Efficacy of the Whole.
You have Sir, said
Harry,
here drawn an exceeding sweet Picture of Society, and you know I'm but a Fool and a Novice in such Matters. But, if any other Man breathing, had given me such a Description, I should, from all my little Reading, have withstood him to the Face. Look through all the States and Associations that ever were upon Earth; throughout the Republics of
Greece, Italy, Asia
Minor, and Others, the most renowned for Urbanity and Virtue, and yet, what do you find them, save so many Bands of public Robbers and Murderers, confederated for the Destruction of the rest of Mankind? what Desolations, what Bloodshed, what Carnage from the Beginning! what a Delight in Horrors! what a Propensity in All to inflict Misery upon Others! the Malignity of the Fiends can, I think, pierce no deeper!
Neither is this, Sir, as I take it, the Extent of their Malevolence. For, when any of these Bands, or States as you call them, have conquered or slaughtered all around them, they never fail, for want of Employment, to fall out among themselves, and cut the Throat of their very Confederates; and this puts me in mind of what is said by the Prince of Peace,
the Prince of this World cometh and has no Part in me.
And again he says to the Purpose, that Fathers and Sons, and Mothers and Daughters shall be divided against Each Other, and that
a Man's Enemies shall be those of his own Household.
I lately met with a Fragment of an epic Poem, it struck me wonderfully at the time, and I recollect some of the Lines that contain, in my Opinion, the most genuine, the truest Picture that ever was drawn of the state of Mankind.
  Man comes into this passing World in Weakness,
  And cries for Help to Man,  for feeble is he,
  And many are his Foes. Thirst, Hunger, Nakedness,
  Diseases infinite within his Frame,
  Without, Inclemency, the Wrath of Seasons,
  Famines, Pests, Plagues, devouring Elements,
  Earthquakes beneath, the Thunders rolling o'er. him;
  Age and Infirmity on either Hand;
  And Death, who shakes the certain Dart behind him!
  These, surely, One might deem, were Ills sufficient.
  Man thinks not so; on his own Race he turns
  The Force of all his Talents, exquisite
  To shorten the short Interval, by Art,
  Which Nature left us  Fire and Sword are in
  His Hand, and in his Heart are Machinations,
  For speeding of Perdition.    Half the World,
  Down the steep Gulf of dark Futurity,
  Push off their Fellows, pause upon the Brinkâª
  And then drop after.
Say then, my dearest Father, tell me, whence comes this worse than flinty, this cruel Heartedness in Man? Why are not All like You? Why are they not happy in communicating Happiness? If my Eyes did not daily see it, in Fact, as well as in History, I should think it impossible that any One should derive Pleasure from giving Pain to Another. Can it be more blessed to destroy than to preserve, to afflict than to gladden, to wound than to heal? My Heart wrings with Regret for being cast into a World, where Nation against Nation, Family against Family, and Man against Man, are perpetually embattled, grudging, coveting, grasping, tearing every Enjoyment, every Property, and Life itself from Each-other.
Here
Harry,
for a while, held his Handkerchief to his Eyes; while his fond Uncle dropped a silent Tear of Delight, at beholding the amiable Emotion of his Beloved.
Take Care, my
Harry,
rejoined Mr.
Fenton,
beware of the smallest Tincture of Uncharitableness? You see only the worse Part, the outward Shell of this World; while the Kernel, the better Part is concealed from your Eyes. There are Millions of worthy People and affectionate Saints upon Earth; but they are as a Kingdom within a Kingdom, a Grain within a Husk; it requires a kindred Heart and a curious Eye to discover them. Evil in Man is like Evil in the Elements; Earthquakes, Hurricanes, Thunders, and Lightnings are conspicuous, noisy, glaring; while Goodness, like Warmth and Moisture, is silent and unperceived, though productive of all the Beauties and Benefits in Nature.
I once told you, my Darling, that all the Evil which is in you belongs to yourself, and that all the Good which is in you belongs to your God. That you cannot, in or of yourself, so much as think a good Thought, or form a good Wish, or oppose a single Temptation or evil Motion of any kind. And, what I then said of You may equally be said of all Men, and of the highest Angels now in Bliss.
No Creature can be better than
a craving and dark Desire.
No Efforts of its own can possibly kindle the smallest Portion of Light or of Love; till God, by giving himself, gives his Light and Love into it.
Here lies the eternal Difference between Evil and Good, between the Creature and the Creator; the Spirits who are now in Darkness, are there for no other Reason, but for their Desire of a proud and impossible Independence, for their rejecting the Light and Love of that God, in whom, however, they live and move and have their desolate Being.
God is already the Fullness of all possible things; He has, therefore, all things to give, but nothing to desire. The Creature, while empty of God, is a wanting Desire; it has all things to crave, but nothing to bestow. No two Things, in the Universe, can be more opposite, more contrasted.
Remember, therefore, this Distinction in yourself and all Others; remember that, when you feel or see any Instance of Selfishness, you feel and see the coveting, grudging and grappling of the Creature: But that when you feel or see any Instance of Benevolence, you feel and see the informing Influence of your God. All possible Vice and Malignity subsists in the One; all possible Virtue, all possible Beauty, all possible Blessedness subsists in the Other.
As God, alone is LOVE, and nothing but Love, no Arguments of our own can reason Love into us, no Efforts of our own can possibly attain it. It must spring up, within us, from the divine Bottom or Source, wherein our Existence stands; and it must break through the dark and narrow Womb of SELF, into Sentiments and Feelings of GOOD-WILL for Others, before this CHILD OF GOD can be born into the World.
SELF is wholly a MISER, it contracts what it possesses, and at the same time attracts all that it doth not possess. It at once shuts out Others from its own proposed Enjoyments, and would draw into its little Whirlpool whatever Others enjoy.
LOVE, on the contrary, is a
Giving,
not a
Craving;
an
Expansion
not a
Contraction;
it breaks in Pieces the condensing Circle of SELF, and goes forth in the Delightfulness of its Desire to bless.
SELF is a poor, dark, and miserable Avaritiousness, incapable of enjoying what it hath, through its grappling and grasping at what it hath not. The Impossibility of its holding all things makes it envious of Those who are in Possession of any thing, and Envy kindles the Fire of Hell, Wrath, and Wretchedness throughout its Existence.
LOVE, on the other Hand, is rich, enlightening, and full of Delight. The Bounteousness of its Wishes makes the Infinity of its Wealth. And it cannot fail of finding (without seeking or requiring) its own Enjoyment, and Blessedness, in its Desire to communicate and diffuse Blessing and Enjoyment.
But is it not, Sir, a very terrible thing, said
Harry,
for poor Creatures to be evil, by the Necessity of their Nature?
Why, answered Mr.
Fenton,
how do you wish that Matters should have been managed, my
Harry?
That All, Sir, at once, should have been made so wise and good, as never possibly to be otherwise to all Eternity  What, infinitely wise, and powerful, and good, and happy ?    As near to infinite, Sir, as possibly could be.
Any thing less than infinite, replied Mr.
Fenton,
must fall infinitely short of it.
But, supposing that God had made his Creatures infinitely and necessarily wise, powerful, and happy; then here would have been, as it were, an Infinity of distinct Beings and separate Wills, unmitted by any Connection, undisciplined and unarrayed by any Subordination; and, should any Cause of Contention arise among them, the Universe must have been turned into a more horrible Hell than Any that Fancy hath ever yet formed.
I see, Sir, said
Harry,
I see, in all Lights, that my Wish was absurd, impossible, and ridiculous.
Your Error, my
Harry,
consisted in this. You took the Emptiness, Darkness, and Desire, in the Creature, to be the Evil of the Creature. They are, indeed, the only possible Cause of Evil, in or to any Creature, but they are exceedingly far from being an Evil, in themselves; they are, on the contrary, the only, the necessary and indispensable Foundation, whereon any Creaturely Benefit can be built. It is extremely good for the Creature to be
poor
and
weak,
and
empty,
and
dark,
and
desiring;
for, hereby, he becomes a Capacity, for being supplied with all the
Riches, Powers, Glories,
and
Blessedness
of his God.
As God is, every where (in and of himself) the Fullness of all possible Beings and Beatitudes, he cannot create any thing independent or out of himself; they cannot be but by being both in him and by him. Could it be otherwise, could any Creature be wise, or powerful, or happy, in and of itself, what a poor and stinted Happiness must that have been; its Blessedness, in that Case, must have been limited, like its Being; and how infinitely, my Child, should we then have fallen short of
that eternal Weight of Glory
intended for us. But God has been graciously pleased to provide better things. If we humbly and desirously depend upon him, we become entitled to All that he has and that he is. He will enlighten our Darkness with his own Illumination; he will inform our Ignorance with his own Wisdom; his Omnipotence will become the Strength of our Weakness; He, himself, will be our Rectitude and Guide from all Error; He will purify our Pollution; put his own Robe on our Nakedness; enrich our Poverty with the Heart-felt Treasures of himself; and we shall be as so many Mirrors, wherein our divine Friend and Father shall delight to behold the express Image of his own Person, his own Perfections and Beatitudes represented for ever!
O Sir, exclaimed
Harry,
how you gladden, how you transport me! I shall now no longer repine at my own Weakness, or Blindness, or Ignorance, or Insufficiency of any Kind; since all these are but as so many Vessels prepared to contain Pearls of infinite Price, even the Riches, the Enjoyment and Fullness of my God. Never will I seek or desire, never will I accept any thing less than Himself.
You must, my Child, said Mr.
Fenton,
you are still in the Flesh, in a carnal and propertied World; your old Man must be fed, though not pampered; it must be mortified, but not slain.
You read, in the third Chapter of
Genesis,
how our first Father lusted after the sensual Fruits of this World; how he wilfully broke the sole Commandment of his God; how he added to his Apostacy the Guilt of aspiring at Independence; how he trusted to the Promise and Virtue of Creatures for making him equal in Godhead to the Creator; how in that Day he died the fearfullest of all Deaths, a Death to the Fountain of Life, Light and Love within him; and how his Eyes were opened to perceive the Change of his Body into Grossness, Corruption, Disease, and Mortality, conformable to the World, to which he had turned his Faith, and into which he had cast himself.
Now, had Man continued in this State, his Spirit which had turned, from God, into its own creaturely Emptiness, Darkness, and Desire, must have so continued for ever, in its own Hell and Misery, without the Possibility of exciting or acquiring the smallest Spark of Benevolence or Virtue of any kind. But God, in Compassion to
Adam,
and more especially in Compassion to his yet unsinning Progeny, infused, into his undying Essence, a small Embryon or Reconception of that lately forfeited Image which, in Creation, had born the perfect Likeness of the Creator.
From hence arises the only Capacity of any Goodness in Man. And, according as we suppress or quench, or encourage and foster this heavenly Seed, or infant Offspring of God within us; in such Proportion we become evil, malignant and reprobate; or benevolent and replete with divine Propensities and Affections.
Now,
Harry,
let us turn our Eyes to our gross and outward Man, for, as I told you, it must be cared for and sustained agreeable to its Nature; and it is well deserving of our Attention; for as much as it is the Husk, the Habitation and Temple of that Godlike Conception which, when matured, is to break forth into never ending Glory.
Lastly, this same outward Man is further to be regarded by us, for as much as his Infirmities, Frailties, Distemperatures. Afflictions, Aches, and Anguishes are so intimately felt by his divine Inmate, that they occasionally excite those thousand social Charities, Relations, and Endearments that, with Links of golden Love, connect the Brotherhood of Man.
It is therefore worth while to enquire into the Claims and Rights of this close, though gross Companion, at least so far as may be requisite for his necessary, if not comfortable Subsistance upon Earth.
We find that God has entrusted him with
Life, Liberty,
and Strength to acquire
Property
for his Sustenance. It is therefore his Duty to preserve all these Trusts inviolate; for, as they are wedded to his Nature,
what God hath so joined let no Man put asunder.
If these were not, my
Harry,
the natural, inheritable, and indefeasible Rights of all Men, there would be no Wrong, no Injustice, in depriving All you should meet, of their Liberty, their Lives, and Properties at Pleasure. For, all Laws that were ever framed for the good Government of Men (even with the divine Decalogue) are no other than faint Transcripts of that eternal LAW OF BENEVOLENCE, which was written and again retraced in the Bosom of the first Man, and which all his Posterity ought to observe, without further Obligation.
The capital Apostle, Saint
Paul,
bears Testimony, also, to the Impression of this LAW OF RIGHTS on the Consciences and Hearts of all Men, where he says in the second Chapter of his Epistle to the
Romans,
Not the Hearers of the Law are just before God, but the Doers of the Law shall be justified. For, when the Gentiles, which have not the Law, do by Nature the Things contained in the Law, These, having not the Law, are a Law unto themselves. Which show the work of the Law WRITTEN, IN THEIR HEARTS, their Consciences also bearing Witness, and their Thoughts, the mean while, accusing or else excusing One another.
But Sir, interrupted
Harry,
I am quite astonished at the Falling-off of the Father of Mankind. So infinitely benefitted and obliged as he was, so necessarily dependent also on his omnipotent Benefactor; how foolish, how base, how ungrateful, how unpardonable, as I think, was his wonderful Apostasy! Wretched Creatures that we are! no sound Branch, to be sure, could ever spring from so debased, so cankered a Stock.
Let us not be prone to judge of Others, my
Harry.
I am confident, as I am of my Being, that had You or I been in the Case and Place of
Adam,
we should have fallen in like Manner. He had an old and
a very subtle Adversary to deal with. He felt himself powerful, glorious and happy. He had no Notion that his present State could change for the worse. He was yet a Novice in Existence. He could form no Conception of the Depravity, Pains, and Mortality that afterwards ensued. And he was strongly tempted by sensual Objects from without, and by the Emotions of his creaturely Nature within him. But, of this I am assured,
Harry,
that, if he was the greatest Sinner, he was also the greatest and most contrite Penitent that ever existed; as the Comparison of his first, with his latter State, must have given him the most poignant and bitter Compunctions, and must have caused him, with tenfold Energy, to cling to that Rock, from which he was hewn, but from whence he had fallen.
I have already shown you,
Harry,
that every Man has a Right in his Person and Property, and that this Right is natural, inheritable, and indefeasable. No Consent of Parties, no Institution can make any Change in this great and fundamental Law of Right; it is universal, invariable, and unalienable to any Man or System of Men. It is only defeasable in particular Cases, as where one Man, by assailing the Safety of Another, justly forfeits the Title which he had to his own Safety.
If human Nature had never fallen into a State of inordinate Appetence, all Laws and legal Restraints would have been as needless and impertinent as the Study and Practice of Physic, in a Country exempted from Mortality and Disease. But, for as much as all Men are Tyrants by Nature, All prone to covet and grasp at the Rights of Others; the great Law of SAFETY TO ALL can no otherwise be assured, than BY THE RESTRAINT OF EACH FROM DOING INJURY TO ANY.
On this lamentable Occasion, on this sad Necessity of Man's calling for Help against Man, is founded every Intention and End of civil Government. All Laws that do not branch from this Stem are cankered or rotten. All political Edifices that are not built and sustained upon this Foundation,
of defending the Weak against the Oppressor,
must tumble into a Tyranny even worse than that Anarchy which is called the State of Nature, where Individuals are unconnected by any social Band. But, if such a System could be framed, whereby
Wrong
should not be permitted or dispensed with in any Man,
Right
would consequently ensue and be enjoyed by all Men, and this would be the Perfection of CIVIL LIBERTY.
Sir, says
Harry,
I have heard some very learned Men affirm, that God, in whom is the Disposal of all Lives and all Properties, has given to Some a Right of ruling over Others. That Governours are his Vicegerents and Representatives upon Earth. And that he hath appointed the descendible and hereditary Rights of Fathers over Families, of Patriarchs over Tribes, and of Kings over Nations.
In a qualified Sense, my
Harry,
their Affirmation may be just. All the Agents and Instruments and Dispensers of Beneficence, whether their Sphere be small or great, are God's true Representatives and Vicegerents upon Earth. He hath given Authority to the Tenderness of Parents over their Progeny; and he hath invested Patriarchs and Kings with the Rights of Protection. But God never gave the Vulture a Right to rule over the Dove-cote. Never gave up the innocent Many for a Prey to the tyrannous Few. God never can take Pleasure in the Breaches of the Law of his own Righteousness and Benignity. Arbitrary Regents are no further of his Appointment than the Evils of Earthquakes and Hurricanes, as where he is said
to give the Wicked a King in his Anger;
and
to set over the Nations the Basest of Men.
The God of all Right cannot will Wrong to Any.
His Service is perfect Freedom.
It is his Pleasure to deliver from
the Land of Slavery and the House of Bondage.
He is the God of Equity and Good-Will to all his Creatures. He founds his own Authority, not in Power but Beneficence. The Law, therefore, of Safety and Well-being to All, is founded in the Nature of God himself,
eternal, immutable,
and
indispensable.
One Man may abound in Strength, Authority, Possessions; but no Man may have greater Right than Another. The Beggar has as much Right to his Cloak and his Scrip, as the King to his Ermines and Crown Lands.
To fence and to establish this divinely inherent Right, of SECURITY TO THE PERSON and PROPERTY OF MAN, has been the Study and Attempt of
Hermes, Confucius, Minos, Lycurgus, Solon, Numa,
and of all the Legislators and Systems of civil Polity, that ever warmed the World with a single Ray of Freedom.
But, so strong is the Propensity to Usurpation in Man; so dangerous is it to tempt Trustees with the Investiture of Power; so difficult to
watch
the
Watchers,
to
restrain
the
Restrainers
from Injustice; that, whether the Government were committed to the ONE, the FEW, or the MANY; the Parties entrusted have generally proved Traitors; and deputed Power has almost perpetually been seized upon as Property.
Monarchy
has ever been found to rush headlong into Tyranny;
Aristocracy
into Faction and multiplied Usurpation; and
Democracy
into Tumult, Confusion and Violence. And All these, whether distinct or compounded with Each-other, have ended in the Supremacy of some arbitrary Tyrant, enabled, by a Body of military Mercenaries, to rule, oppress, and spoil the People at Pleasure.
How
England
hath come, after the many Wrecks and Ruins which you have read of in History, to survive, to recover, to grow sounder from her Wounds, and mightier from her Discomfitures; and to rise superior, as we trust, to all future external and internal Attempts, hath been owing to the Peculiarity of her Constitution.
Her Constitution, it is true, is not yet quit, perhaps never ought to be quit of some intestine Commotions. For, though Liberty has no Relation to Party, Dissention, or Cabal against Government; there is yet a Kind of yeast observable in its Nature, which may be necessary to the fermentation and working up of Virtue to the Degree that is requisite for the Production of Patriotism and public-Spirit. But, when this
Yest of Liberty
happens to light upon weak or vapid Tempers, they are immediately affected, like Small-beer Casks, and rave and boil over in an Abundance of factious Sputter and Turbulence. Party and Faction therefore, being the Scum and Ebullition of this animating Yest, are sure Signs and Proofs of the Life of Liberty, though they neither partake nor communicate any Portion of its Beneficence; as rank Weeds are the Proof of a hot Sun and luxuriant Soil, though they are the detestable Consequence of the One and the Other.
I will endeavour to image and exemplify to you the Nature and Tendency of these Commotions, by bringing some of our old Plays to the Memory of my
Harry.
First, there's ROBIN'S ALIVE AND ALIVE LIKE TO BE,
if he dies in my Hand, my Mouth shall be bridled, my Back shall be saddled, with Sticks and Stones and marrow-Bones, and sent to the King's black Hall.
This is always supposed to be the favourite Diversion of the Children of a free People. Where the Stick, which is fired at one end, and handed about through the Society, represents the Light and Comfort which they derive from LIBERTY, and which they endeavour to keep alive, by the Quickness of Communication and by the Supplies of their own Breath.
They all please themselves with the Assurance that Liberty is not only alive, but alive like to be; and they denounce the most heavy and tremendous Consequences against any who shall suffer it to expire in their Hands. Their Mouth is first to be bridled, they must not dare to speak or even mutter their Complaints; and, after being laden with all Kinds of Grievances and Oppressions, they are to be led to the gloomy Receptacles of their insulting Proprietor, there to be further dealt with according to his Pleasure.
FOUR CORNERS AND A FOOL is a most apt and animated Representation of those personal and selfish Competitions that never fail to intrude into the freest States. Where the Meaning and Import of the several Contests amounts
to the single Question
of,
Who shall be in Place?
And where All,
who get in,
are allowed a prescriptive Right of laughing at the Expense of Those
who are kept out.
Your favourite Play of FOOT-BALL is a most perfect Image, or rather Counterpart, of those Dissentions and Oppositions that are entitled
Parties,
and which are almost peculiar to the
British
Constitution.
As soon as the
Parties
for FOOT-BALL are formed, Each enters as affectionately, as zealously, as furiously in the Interests of All, and Every of the Posse, with whom he is connected, as though they were so many Limbs of his proper Person. Though Townsmen, Friends, Brothers should be arrayed on the opposite Side, it makes no Abatement of Warmth or Hostility. All Concerns of Kindred and Country, all Memory of former Attachments are instantly cast aside, or absorbed in the Engagement and Eagerness for Conquest. They enter upon Action; they run, labour, sweat, wrestle. While the BALL, which each Party endeavours to bear away from the Other, represents the PUBLIC INTEREST or COMMON-WEAL, which is tossed and bandied to and fro, and kicked about, and almost rent to Rags in the Heat of the Contention.
It is, however, observable that, in these FOOT-BALL Conflicts, there are certain BOUNDARIES entitled GOALS, emblematical of the CONSTITUTION, within which the Parties are enjoined to limit their Contention: And when some extravagant and dissolute Spirits have, wantonly, born away the Ball beyond the said Bounds, we have seen both Parties join in Pursuit of such Vagrants, in order to recover and bring back the Ball to the regulated and appointed Sphere of its Activity.
The pacific Institution, of WATER MY CHICKENS COME CLOCK, seems an Invention of
Eastern
Policy; and calculated rather to recommend an obsequious Dependence on
Asiatic
Despotism, than as any Hieroglyphic of the Freedom of
Grecian, Roman,
or
Gothic
Commonwealths. And yet the Time may come when even in
Britain,
a Minister may arise who shall have the Art and Address to bribe and corrupt a Majority of the Legislature with the Money of their Constituents. He will thereby be enabled to take the Lead at the Head of the Representatives of the Nation. When,
All shall follow him in implicit and orderly Procession, Each duely and decently attending the Posteriors of him who immediately precedes in the Arrangement.
Now,
Harry,
let us return to the great Object first proposed, an Object in which you are most intimately concerned; and which, I trust, you will invariably assert and support, even the Liberties and Claims of the Meanest of your Countrymen.
SALUS POPULI  PUBLIC SAFETY  SECURITY TO THE PERSONS AND PROPERTIES OF THE PEOPLE; constitutes the Whole of
England
's Polity. Her Empire is IMPERIUM LEGUM, the Sway of Law; it is the Dispensation of Beneficence, of equal Right to All; and this Empire rises supreme over King, Lords, and Commoners, and is appointed to rule the Rulers, to the End of Time.
Other States, before now, have been compounded like Ours, of
Prince, Peers, and People,
the
One, Few, and Many
united. But the Error and Failure of their Constitution was this: The PEOPLE, who are the FOUNTAIN OF ALL POWER, either retained, in their own Hands, an Authority which they never were qualified to wield; or deputed it to Trustees without Account; without a provident Resource or due Reserve of Potency, when
Those entrusted with Government should be found to betray.
The People of
England,
on the contrary, claim no Authority in Government; neither in the framing, administration, or execution of the Laws, by which they consent to be governed. They are themselves imaged and as it were epitomised, in their three several Estates. The King represents their Majesty; the Lords their Nobility; and the Commons, more immediately, their legislative Power. The Constitution is the Inheritance of them and their Posterity; and theirs is the Right and Duty, at all Times, to watch over, assert, and reclaim it. Wherefore, as you find in History, when Any of the three Estates have usurped upon the Others; even when All of them together have dared to violate the Frame of this salutary Constitution; the People, to whom it belongs, have never failed, as on the other Day's Revolution, to restore and reinstate it.
England
's three Estates, of King, Lords, and Commons, are Parts of the People, under Covenant with the People, and accountable to the People; but the People, as a People, make not any of the said Estates. They are as a perpetual Fountain from whence the three Estates arise; or rather as a Sea of Waters, in which three exalted Waves should claim Preeminence; which yet shall not be able to depart from their Fund, but, in Rotation, are dissoluble and resolvable therein.
Thus, however complicated the System of
England
's Polity may be, it is all rooted in and branches from the TRUST OF THE PEOPLE, the Trust of Powers which they have granted to be returned in Protection. And, in Truth, it makes little Difference whether the Powers, in such Cases, be granted or assumed: Whoever either receives or assumes such Powers, save to the Ends of Beneficence, is equally guilty of Usurpation and Tyranny.
Government can have no Powers, save the Powers of the People; to wit, the Power of their Numbers, Strength, and Courage, in Time of War, and in Peace, of their Art and Industry, and the Wealth arising therefrom. Whoever assumes to himself these Powers, or any Part thereof, without the Consent of the Proprietors, is a Robber, and should, at least, be divested of the Spoil.
On the other Hand, if such Powers are granted by the People, the People cannot granted them for Purposes to which they, themselves, cannot lawfully apply them. No Man, for Instance, can arbitrarily dispose of his own Life or Liberty, neither of the whole Product of his own Labours; forasmuch as the Lives of himself and his Family should be first sustained thereby, and his Obligations to Others fairly and fully discharged. He cannot, therefore, grant an arbitrary Disposal of what he hath not an arbitrary Disposal in himself. Much less can any Man grant a Power over the Lives, Liberties, or Properties of other People, as it would be criminal and highly punishable in himself to assail them.
Hence it follows, as evident as any Object at Noon, that
no Man or Body of Men can rightfully assume,
or even accept,
what no Man or Body of Men can rightfully grant,
to wit, a Power that is arbitrary or injurious to Others. And hence it necessarily follows, that all Usurpations of such Powers, throughout the Earth; with all actual or pretended Covenants, Trusts, or Grants, for the Investiture or Conveyance of such illicit Powers, are null and void, on the Execution. And that no Man, or Nations of Men, can possibly be bound by any Consents or Contracts eversive of the Laws of God and their own Nature, of common Sense and general Equity, of eternal Reason and Truth.
I beg Pardon, Sir, says
Harry,
for interrupting you once more, but you desire that I should always speak my Mind with Freedom. You have delighted me greatly with the Account which you give of the Benefits and Sweets of
Liberty,
and of its being equally the Claim and Birth-Right of all Men; and I wish to Heaven that they had an equal Enjoyment thereof. But this you know, Sir, is very far from being the Case, and that this
animating Fire,
which ought to comfort All who come into the World, is now nearly extinguished throughout the Earth.
O Sir, if this divine, this GOLDEN LAW OF LIBERTY were observed, if ALL WERE RESTRAINED FROM DOING INJURY TO ANY; what a Heaven we should speedily have upon Earth! the Habit of such a Restraint would, in time, suppress every Emotion to Evil. The Weak would have the Mightiness of this Law for their Support, the Poor would have the Benevolence thereof for their Riches. Under the light and delightsome Yoke of such a Restraint, how would Industry be encouraged to plant and to multiply the Vine and the Fig-Tree, how would Benignity rejoice to call Neighbours and Strangers to come and fearlessly partake of the Fruits thereof!
How has the sacred Name of All-benefitting LIBERTY been perverted and profaned, by the Mouths of madding Demagogues at the Head of their shouting Rabble, who mean no Other than a licentious Unmuzzling from all Restraint, that they may ravage and lay desolate the Works and Fruits of Peace.
But Liberty, in your System, is a real an essential Good; the only Source, indeed, whence any Good can arise. I see it, I revere it, it shines by its own Light in the Evidence of your Description.
How is it then, Sir, that there are Persons so blind, or so bigotted against their own Interests and Those of their Fellows, as to declaim with much Energy and studied Argumentation against this divine, inheritable, and indefeisible Right (not of Kings as should seem) but of Humankind?
I lately happened in Company with a Number of discontentedly looking Gentlemen, whom I supposed to have been Abettors of the late King
James,
and Friends to the arrogating Family of the
Stuarts.
Among them was One of some Learning and great Cleverness, and he paraded and showed away, at a vast Rate, concerning the divinely inherent Right of Monarchs, implicit Submission, passive Obedience, Non-Resistance, and what not.
Our God, said he, is one God; and the Substitutes of his Mightiness should resemble himself; their Power ought to be absolute, unquestioned, and undivided. The Sun is his glorious Representative in the Heavens, and Monarchs are his Representatives and Mirrors, upon Earth, in whom he is pleased to behold the Reflection of his own Majesty.
Accordingly we find that the Monarchs, over his chosen People, were of his special Appointment, and that their Persons were rendered sacred and awfully inviolable, by Unction or the shedding of hallowed Oil upon them. Many Miscarriages and woeful Defaults are recorded of
Saul,
as a Man, yet, as a King, he was held perfect in the Eyes of his People. What an unhesitating Obedience, what a speechless Submission do they pay to all his Behests! Though he massacred their whole Priesthood, to a Man, in one Day, yet no Murmur was heard; no One dared to wag a Tongue, and much less to lift a Finger against the Lord's Anointed.
I own to you, Sir, that this last Argument staggered me; such an express Authority of the sacred Writings put me wholly to Silence. Say then, my dearest Father, give me the Benefit of your enlightening Sentiments on this Head; that I may know, on all Occasions, to give, to all Men,
an Account of the political Faith that is in me.
It is extremely surprising, rejoined Mr.
Fenton,
that all our Lay and ecclesiastical Champions for arbitrary Power, who have raised such a Dust, and kept such a Coil about the
divine, hereditary,
and
indefeisible Right
of Kings, and the
unconditional Duty
of
Passive Obedience
in the Subject, have founded their whole Pile of Argument and Oratory, on the DIVINE APPOINTMENT of the Regal Government of the
Jews,
as the perfect Model and Ensample whereby all other States are, in like Manner, required to form their respective Governments.
Now, if these Champions had engaged, on the opposite Side of the Question, and had undertaken the Argument against
arbitrary Power,
they could not have done it more effectually, more conclusively, more unanswerably, than by showing that ARBITRARY POWER was the very EVIL so displeasing to the Nature of God, that he exhibited his Omnipotence, in a Series of public and astonishing Wonders, in order to deliver this very People from the Grievance thereof; and, more especially to proclaim to all Nations and Ages the Detestation in which his ETERNAL JUSTICE holds all
lawless Dispensations,
all Acts of SOVEREIGN POWER that are not Acts of PROTECTION.
Could these Champions, again, have better enforced the Argument against
arbitrary Power,
than by showing that this People, so miraculously enfranchised, but now fat and wantonly kicking under the Indulgence of their God, had taken a Loathing to the Righteousness of the Dispensations of their Deliverer,
had rejected him
(as he affirms)
from reigning over them;
and had required a KING, like to the Kings of the neighbouring Nations? the very EVIL from which God had redeemed their Forefathers.
Could these Champions, further, have better demonstrated the Miseries, the Iniquities, the Abominations of such a Government, than by reciting the Expostulations, the tender and earnest Remonstrances of God himself, on the Sufferings that these Rebels were about to bring upon themselves from the Enormities of an arbitrary and unlimited Sovereignty? And, lastly, could they have better recommended, to the Free and the Virtuous, to stand out, to the Death, against arbitrary Oppression, than by showing the Obstinacy of these apostate
Jews,
when they answered to the compassionating Expostulations of their God  
Nay, but we will have a
KING,
like all the Nations, to rule over us.
Nothing, my
Harry,
can be more unaccountable, more astonishing, than the Perverseness of that stiffnecked Nation.
They daily drank the bitterest Dregs of Slavery; they had been galled by double Chains; and had groaned under an unprecedented Tyranny and Oppression. They cried out to their God, and he miraculously delivered them from
the Land of their Misery and from the House of their Bondage.
Yet, on the first Cravings of Appetite these Soul-sensualized Wretches desired to be returned to their
Chains
and their
Flesh-Pots;
and longed to groan and gormandise in their
old Sty.
Hereupon, God gave them Flesh and Bread to the full; and he brought them into a Land
flowing with Milk and Honey,
and abounding with all the good things of this Life. He made them a free and sovereign People, discomfitted their Enemies before them; and informed their Judges with his own Spirit, for the Dispensation of Righteousness; insomuch that
every Man sat under his own Vine, and did what was right in his own Eyes.
And yet, they lasciviously petitioned to be subjected to a State of
absolute Despotism;
and this, for no assigned Reason, save because it was the Fashion;
make us a King to judge us, like to all the Nations around us.
Here God, in the same Act, approves his Attributes of
Mercy
and
reluctant Justice
to his erring Creatures. He punishes their Rebellion by no greater a Severity than the Grant of their Request.
And the Lord said unto
Samuel,
hearken unto the Voice of the People in all that they say unto thee; for they have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me, that I should not reign over them. Howbeit, protest solemnly unto them, and show them the Manner of the King that shall reign over them.
And
Samuel
told all the Words of the Lord unto the People that asked of him a King. And he said, this will be the Manner of the King that shall reign over You.
He will take your Sons and appoint them for himself, for his Chariots and to be his Horsemen. And Some shall run before his Chariots. And he will appoint him Captains over Thousands, and Captains over Fifties, and will set them to ear his Ground and to reap his Harvest. And he will take your Daughters to be Confectioners, and Cooks, and Bakers. And he will take your Fields and your Vineyards, and your Olive Yards, even the best of them. And he will take your Men Servants and your Maid Servants, and your goodliest young Men, and your Asses, and put them to his Work, and ye shall be his Servants. And ye shall cry out in that Day, because of your King which ye shall have chosen you; and the Lord will not hear you in that Day.
Nevertheless, the People refused to obey the Voice of the Lord and of
Samuel;
and they said, nay, but we will have a King over us.
And now,
Harry,
what do you gather from all these sacred Authorities? I gather, Sir, answered
Harry,
from the express and repeated Declarations of holy Writ, that, whoever he be, whether Sovereign or Subject, who doth not wish that all Men should be limited and restrained from doing Injury to Any, is a Rebel to the Will of the God of BENEFICENCE, and an Enemy to the WELLBEING OF HUMANKIND.
You have, exclaimed Mr.
Fenton,
You have, in a few Words, spoke the Whole of the Matter. On what you have said hang all the Law and the Prophets.
Again, my Dear, continued Mr.
Fenton,
it is evident from the History, that the
Jews,
themselves, did not pay the smallest Regard to the
divinely hereditary Right of Kingship.
Both
David
and
Solomon,
the second and third in succession, were established on the Throne in direct Contradiction to such
pretended Right.
And on the Succession of
Rehoboam,
the fourth King, ten of the twelve Tribes repented of their Submission to an
arbitrary Monarchy,
and required the King to consent to a
Limitation of his Authority,
and to enter into a
Contract with the People.
And they spoke unto
Rehoboam,
saying, thy Father made our Yoke grievous: Now therefore make thou the grievous Service of thy Father and his heavy Yoke, which he put upon us, lighter, and we will serve thee.
But, when
Rehoboam,
by the Advice of his sleek-headed Ministry, refused to covenant with the People, the ten Tribes cried out,
What Portion have we in
David?
neither have we Inheritance in the Son of
Jesse;
to your Tents, O
Israel!
And thus the ten Tribes revolted from the arbitrary Domination of the Houses of
Saul
and
David.
For, as the sacred Text says, THE CAUSE WAS FROM THE LORD.
Now, when these ten Tribes sent and called
Jeroboam:
he Son of
Nelat,
and made him King over
Israel;
it is most evident that they obliged him to
limit the regal Authority,
and to covenant with them for the Restoration and
Re-establishment
of their Popular Rights. For, in the sixth Succession, when
Ahab
sat upon the Throne, the
Regal Prerogative
had not, yet, so far usurped on the
constitutional Rights of the People,
as to entitle
Ahab
to deprive his Subjects even of a Garden for Herbs.
And
Ahab
said unto
Naboth,
give me thy Vineyard, that I may have it for a Garden of Herbs, because it is near unto my House; and I will give thee for it a better Vineyard; or if it seems good to thee, I will give thee the Worth of it in Money. But,
Naboth
said to
Ahab,
the Lord forbid that I should give the Inheritance of my Fathers unto thee. So
Ahab
came into his House heavy displeased, because
Naboth
had said I will not give to thee the Inheritance of my Fathers: And he laid him down upon his Bed, and turned away his Face, and would eat no Bread.
Here, we see that the People of
Israel
had so far recovered their
originally inherent and hereditary Rights,
that the
Regal Estate
had not the Privilege of wresting, from any Subject, so much as an Herb-Garden.
This was a mortifying Circumstance to royal Elevation; but Power is seldom unfruitful of Expedients. A Method was found of rending away
Naboth
's Property (without his Consent) UNDER COLOUR OF THE LAW TO WHICH HE HAD CONSENTED. He was falsely impeached, and forfeited his Life and Inheritance together. But God, by the signal Punishment which he inflicted, for this Breach on
the natural Rights of his People,
evinced to the World how dear they are in the Eye of ETERNAL JUSTICE.
How deplorable then, my
Harry,
is the
Suppression
of these Rights, now nearly
universal
throughout the Earth. But when People, from their Infancy, and from Generation to Generation, have been habituated to Bondage, Oppression, and Submission; without any Tradition or Memorial delivered down to them, of a happier or more equitable Manner of Life; they are accustomed to look on themselves, their Possessions, and their Progeny, as the rightful Property of their Rulers, to be disposed of at Pleasure; and they no more regret the want of a LIBERTY, that they never knew, than the Blind-Born regret the want of THE LIGHT OF THE SUN.
Before I give You this Paper that I have in my Hand, this Epitome or Picture in Miniature of the incomparable Beauties of the
Britanic
Constitution, it may be requisite to premise a few Matters.
Travellers, when they survey a grand
Egyptian
Pyramid, are apt to enquire by whom the stupendous Pile was erected, and how long it hath stood the Assaults of Time? But, when nothing of this can be developed, Imagination runs back through Antiquity, without Bounds; and thence contemplates an Object, with peculiar Veneration, that appears as it were to have had no Beginning.
Such a Structure is the Constitution of
Great-Britain.
No Records discover when it had a Commencement; neither can any Annals specify the Time at which it was not.
William
the
Norman,
above seven hundred Years ago, on his entering into the ORIGINAL CONTRACT with the People, engaged to govern them according to the
bonae et approbatae antiquae Regni Leges,
the good well approved and
ancient
Laws of the Kingdom, this Constitution was therefore ancient, even in
ancient Times.
More than eighteen hundred Years are now elapsed since
Julius Caesar,
in the sixth Book of his Commentaries, bore Testimony as well to the Antiquity as Excellency of the System of the Laws of
Britain.
He tells us that the venerable Order of the
Druids,
who then administered Justice throughout
Gaul,
derived their System of Government from
Britain;
and that it was customary for Those, who were desirous of being versed in the said ancient Institutions, to go over to
Britain
for that Purpose.
Caesar
seems to recommend, while he specifies, one of the Laws that was then peculiar to the Constitution of
Britain.
He tells You that, if a Woman was suspected of the Death of her Husband, she was questioned thereupon with severity
by her Neighbours;
and that, if she was sound guilty, she was tied alive to a Stake and burned to Death. The very Law used in Britain,
by a Jury of Neighbours,
to this Day.
It is, hence, very obvious that our
Gothic
Ancestors either adopted what they judged excellent in the BRITISH CONSTITUTION, or rather superadded what was deemed to be excellent in their Own.
The People who went under the general Name of
Goths,
were of many different Nations, who, from the
Northern,
poured down on the more
Southern
Parts of Europe.
Their Kings were, originally, Chiefs or Generals, appointed to lead voluntary Armies, or Colonies, for the forming of new Settlements in foreign Lands; and they were followed by a free and independent Multitude, who had previously stipulated that they should share and enjoy the Possessions which their Valour should conquer.
Next to the General, in Order, the Officers or principal Men of the Army were attended, on such Expeditions, by their Kinsfolk, Friends, and Dependents, who chose to attach themselves to their Persons and Fortunes, respectively; and such Attachments gave these Officers great Power and Consideration.
On their Conquest or Seizure of any Tract of Country, a certain Portion thereof was allotted to the General, for the Maintenance of his Person and Houshold. The General then divided the Remainder among his Officers, to hold of him, in
Fief,
at the certain Service of so many Horse or Foot, well armed and provided,
&c.
and proportioned to the Value and Extent of the Land assigned. And the said Officers, again, parcelled out the greatest Part of the said Possessions, among their respective Followers, to hold of themselves, in like Manner and Service as they held of their General.
On the Conquest of a Country, they seldom chose to exterminate the Natives or old Inhabitants, but allotted to them also separate Remnants of the Land; and admitted them to the common and equal Participation of such Laws or Usages as they brought from their own Country, or chose to adopt.
Independant of the military Services above reserved, the Prince or Chief, further, reserved the civil Service or personal Attendance of his feudatory Officers, at certain Times and for certain Terms, at his general or national Court. This Court was composed of
three Estates,
the
Prince,
the
Nobles,
and such of the
Priesthood,
whether Pagan or Christian, as held in
Fief
from the Prince; and, from this NATIONAL COUNCIL our PARLIAMENT took its Origin.
The feudal Officers also, on their Part, reserved the like Service and personal Attendance, of their proper Tenants and Vassals, at their respective Courts of Judicature. And for as much as, in such Courts, no civil or criminal Sentence could take place, till the Voice of the Judge was affirmed by the
Court,
which consisted of such as were
Peers,
or
Equals to the Party accused;
from thence we derive our free, ancient, and sacred Institution of JURIES.
If we look back upon One of those
Fief
or
Feudal
Kings, seated high on his Throne, and encircled with all the Ensigns of Royalty; when we find him entitled the sole Proprietor of all the Lands within his Dominions; when we hear his Subjects acknowledge that he, alone, is the Fountain from whence are derived all Possessions, Rights, Titles, Distinctions, and Dignities; when we see his most potent Prefects and Nobles, with lifted Hands and bended Knees, swearing Fealty at his Feet; who would not take him for an arbitrary and most absolute Prince?
Such a judgement, however, would have been very premature. No Prince could be more limited. He had not the License of doing Hurt to the Person or Property of the meanest Vassal throughout his Dominions. But, was he the less powerful, think you, for being less absolute? quite the contrary. While he acted within the Sphere of his Compact with the People, he acted in all the Persons and Powers of the People. Though prescribed, with respect to Evil; the Extent of his Beneficence was wholly unconfined. He was not dreaded indeed, but, on that Account, he was the more revered and beloved by his Subjects. He was a Part of themselves; the principal Member of their Body. In him they beheld, with delight, their own Dignity and Strength so gloriously represented; and, by being the Proprietor of all their Hearts, he became the Master of all their Hands.
O, exclaimed
Harry,
who would wish, after this, to be unrestrained from any Kind of Evil? how frightful, how detestable is that Power which is not exercised in Acts of Benevolence alone! And All, who please, may be infinite in the Stretch of a good Will.
True, my Dear, said Mr.
Fenton
--I have now, continued he, given You the rough and unformed Rudiments of our
Britanic Constitution.
And here, I deliver to you my little Model of the finished Construction thereof, as it now stands on the Revolution just atchieved by his present glorious Majesty King
William.
Your Reading has informed you, and may further inform you of the several Steps and Struggles, whereby this great Business was finally effected. It was not suddenly brought to pass; it was the Work of many Ages; while
Britain,
like
Antaeus,
though often defeated, rose more vigorous and reinforced from every Foil. Of Times long passed, what stupendous Characters, what sacred Names! what watchful Councils! what bloody Effusions! what a People of Heroes! what Senates of Sages! How hath the Invention of Nature been stretched! how have the Veins of the Valiant been exhausted, to form, support, reform, and bring to Maturity this unexampled Constitution, this Coalescence and grand Effort of every human Virtue, BRITISH LIBERTY!
[Here follows Mr.
Fenton
's short System of the Beauties and Benefits of our Constitution. But, if the Reader loves Amusement, preferable to Instruction; he is at liberty to pass it over, and proceed in the Story.]
The REGAL ESTATE.
THE KING, in the Constitution of
Great Britain,
is more properly the King
of
than a King
over
the People, united to them, One of them, and contained in them. At the same time that he is acknowledged the Head of their Body, he is their principal Servant or Minister, being the Deputee of their executive Power.
His Claim to the Throne is not a Claim, as of some Matter of Property or personal Right; he doth not claim but is claimed by the People in their Parliament; and he is claimed or called upon, not to the Investiture of Possessions, but the Performance of Duties. He is called upon to govern the People according to the Laws by which they, themselves, have consented to be governed; to cause Justice and Mercy to be dispensed throughout the Realm; and, to his utmost, to execute, protect, and maintain the Laws of the Gospel of God, and the Rights and Liberties of all the People without distinction. --And this he swears on the Gospel of God to perform --And thus, as all Others owe
Allegiance
to the King;
the King himself oweth Allegiance to the Constitution.
The Existence of a King, as One of the three Estates, is immutable, indispensable, and indefeisible. The Constitution cannot subsist without a King. But then, his personal Claim of Possession, and of hereditary Succession to the Throne, is, in several Instances, precarious and defeasible. As, in Case of any natural Incapacity to govern; or of an open Avowal of Principles incompatible with the Constitution; or in Case of Overt-Acts demonstrative of such Principles; or of any Attempt to sap, or overthrow a fundamental Part of that System, which he was called in, and constituted, and sworn to maintain.
Though the Claim of all Kings, to the Throne of
Great Britain,
is a limited and deseasible Claim; yet the World can afford no Rival, in Power or Glory, to a
constitutional
Sovereign of these free Dominions.
For the Honour of their own Body, they have invested this their Head with all possible Illustration. He concentrates the Rays of many Nations. They have clothed him in royal Robes, and circled his Head with a Diadem, and enthroned him on high. And they bow down before the Mirror of their own Majesty.
Neither are his the mere Ensigns or external Shews of Regency. He is invested also with Powers, much more real than if they were absolute.
There are three capital Prerogatives, with which the King is entrusted, which, at first sight, appear of fearful and dangerous Tendency; and which must infallibly and quickly end in arbitrary Dominion, if they were not counterpoised and counteracted.
His principal Prerogative is to make War or Peace, as also Treaties, Leagues, and Alliances with foreign Potentates.
His second Prerogative is to nominate and appoint all Ministers and Servants of State, all Judges and Administrators of Justice; and all Officers, civil or military, throughout these Realms.
His third capital Prerogative is, that he should have the whole executive Power of the Government of these Nations, by his said Ministers and Officers, both civil and military.
I might here also have added a fourth Prerogative, which must have been capitally eversive of the Constitution, had it not been limited in the original Trust, I mean a Power of granting Pardon to Criminals. Had this Power been unrestrained, all Obligations to Justice might be absolved at the King's Pleasure. An evil King might even encourage the Breach of Law. He must, unquestionably, have dispensed with all illicit Acts that were perpetrated by his own Orders; and this Assurance of Pardon must, as unquestionably, have encouraged all his Ministers and Officers to execute his Will as the only Rule of their Obedience.
But God, and our glorious Ancestors be praised! he is restrained from protecting his best beloved Ministers, when they have effected or even imagined the Damage of the Constitution. He is also limited in Appeals brought by the Subject for Murder or Robbery. But, on Indictments in his own Name, for Offences against his proper Person and Government, such as Rebellion, Insurrection, Riot, and Breaches of the Peace by Murder, Maim, or Robbery,
&c.
here he is at liberty to extend the Arm of his Mercy, forasmuch as there are many Cases so circumstanced, so admissive of pitiable and palliating Considerations, that
summum Jus,
or strict Justice, might prove
summa Injuria,
or extreme Injustice.
All pardonable Offences are distinguished by the Title of
Crimina laesae Majestatis, Sins against the King.
All unpardonable Offences are distinguished by the Title of
Crimina laesae Libertatis, Sins against the Constitution.
In the first Case, the Injury is presumed to extend no further than to One or a few Individuals; in the Second it is charged as a Sin against the Public, against the collective Body of the whole People. Of the latter Kind are Nuisances that may endanger the Lives of Travellers on the High Way; but, more capitally, any Imagination, proved by Overt-Act or evil Advice, tending to change the Nature or Form of any One of the three Estates; or tending to vest the Government, or the Administration thereof, in any One, or any Two of the said Estates independent of the Other; or tending to raise standing Armies, or to continue them in time of Peace without the Consent of Parliament; or tending to give any foreign State an Advantage over these Realms by Sea or by Land,
&c.
The King hath, also, annexed to his Dignity many further very important Powers and Prerogatives; though they do not so intimately interfere with the Constitution as the capital Prerogatives above recited.
He is first considered as the original Proprietor of all the Lands in these Kingdoms; and he founds this Claim, as well on the Conquest, by
William the Norman,
as by the limited Kings or Leaders of our Gothie Ancestors.
Hence it comes to pass that all Lands, to which no Subject can prove a Title, are supposed to be in their original Owner; and are therefore, by the Constitution, vested in the Crown. On the same Principle, also, the King is entitled to the Lands of all Persons who die without Heirs; as also to the Possessions of All who are convicted of Crimes subversive of the Constitution or Public-Weal.
His Person, while he is King or inclusive of the first Estate, is constitutionally sacred, and exempted from all Acts of Violence or Constraint. As One of the Estates, also, he is constituted a Corporation, and his
Teste-Meipso,
or written Testimony, amounts to a Matter of Record. He also exercises, at present, the independent Province of supplying Members to the second Estate, by a new Creation; a very large Accession to his original Powers. Bishops also are now appointed and nominated by the King, another considerable Addition to the royal Prerogative. His is the sole Prerogative to coin or impress Money, and to specify, change, or determine the current Value thereof; and for this Purpose he is supposed to have reserved, from his original Grants of Lands, a Property in Mines of Gold and Silver, which are therefore called Royalties.
As he is One of the three constitutional Estates, no Action can lie against him in any Court; neither can he be barred of his Title by length of Time or Entry. And these Illustrations of his Dignity cast Rays of answerable Privileges on his royal Consort, Heir apparent, and eldest Daughter.
The King hath also some other inferior and conditional Powers, such as of instituting Fairs and Markets; and of issuing Patents for special or personal Purposes, provided they shall not be found to infringe on the Rights of Others. He is also entrusted with the Guardianship of the Persons and Possessions of Idiots and Lunatics, without Account.
I leave his Majesty's Prerogative of a negative Voice in the Legislature; as also his Prerogative (or rather Duty) frequently to call the two other Estates to Parliament, and duely to continue, prorogue, and dissolve the same; till I come to speak of the three Estates, when in such Parliament assembled.
Here then, we find that a King of
Great Britain
is, constitutionally, invested with every Power that can possibly be exerted in Acts of Beneficence. And that, while he continues to move within the Sphere of his benign Appointment, he continues to be constituted the most worthy, most mighty, and most glorious Representative of Omnipotence upon Earth.
IN treating of the Second and third Estate, I come naturally to consider what those Restraints are, which, while they are preserved inviolate, have so happy a Tendency to the mutual Prosperity of Prince and People.
The ARISTOCRATICAL; or, SECOND ESTATE.
THE NOBILITY or Second Estate, in the Constitution of
Great Britain,
is originally Representative. The Members were ennobled by
Tenure,
and not by
Writ
or
Patent;
and they were holden in Service, to the Crown and Kingdom, for the respective Provinces, Counties, or Baronies, whose Name they bore, and which they represented.
A Title to be a Member of this Second Estate, was from the Beginning hereditary. The King could not, anciently, either create or defeat a Title to Nobility. Their Titles were not forfeitable, save by the judgement of their Peers upon legal Trial; and when Any were so deprived, or happened to die without Heirs, the Succession was deemed too important to be otherwise filled, than by the Concurrence of the three Estates, by the joint and solemn Act of the PARLIAMENT or COMMUNE CONCILIUM REGNI.
These Truths are attested by many ancient Records and parliamentary Acts. And, although this most highly ennobling Custom was, at particular Times, infringed by particular Tyrants; it was inviolably adhered to by the best of our
English
Kings, and was observed even by the Worst, excepting a few Instances, till the Reign of
Harry
VII. who wished to give Consequence to the
third Estate,
by deducting from the Honours and Powers of the
Second.
In Truth, it is not to be wondered that any Kings, who were ambitious of extending their own Power, should wish to break and weaken that of the Nobility, who had distinguished themselves, by so many glorious Stands, for Maintenance of Liberty and the Constitution, more particularly during the Reigns of
John, Henry
III. the Second
Edward,
and Second
Richard.
Till
Harry
VII. the Nobles were looked upon as so many Pillars whereon the People rested their Rights. Accordingly we find that, in the Coalition or grand Compact between
John
and the collective Body of the Nation, the King and People jointly agree to confide, to the Nobles, the Superintendance of the Execution of the great Charter, with Authority to them, and their Successors, to enforce the due Performance of the Covenants therein comprized.
What an illustrating Distinction must it have been, when Patriot Excellence alone (approved before the Country in the Field or the Council) could give a Claim to Nobility, and compel, as it were, the united Estates of King, Lords, and Commons, to call a Man up to the second Seat in the Government and Steerage of the Nation.
Such a Preference must have proved an unremitting Incitement to the Cultivation and Exercises of every Virtue; and to such Exertions, Atchievements, and Acts of public Beneficence, as should draw a Man forth to so shining a Point of Light, and set him like a Gem in the Gold of the Constitution.
The Crown did not, at once, assume the independent Right of conferring Nobility.
Henry
III. first omitted to call some of the Barons to Parliament who were personally obnoxious to him, and he issued his Writs or written Letters to some Others who were not Barons, but from whom he expected greater Conformity to arbitrary Measures. These Writs, however, did not enoble the Party till he was admitted, by the second Estate, to a Seat in Parliament; neither was such Nobility, by Writ, hereditary.
To supply these Defects, the arbitrary Ministry of
Richard
II. invented the Method of ennobling by Letters Patent, at the King's Pleasure, whether for Years, or for Life, or in special or general Tail, or in Fee-simple to a Man and his Heirs at large. This Prerogative, however, was thereafter, in many Instances, declined and discontinued, more particularly by the constitutional King HARRY the Vth. till meeting with no Opposition from the other two Estates, it has successively descended, from
Henry
VII. on nine crowned Heads, through a Prescription of near a Century and a Half.
Next to their King, the People have allowed, to their Peerage, several Privileges of the most uncommon and illustrious Distinction, their Christian Names, and the Names that descended to them from their Ancestors, are absorbed by the Name from whence they take their Title of Honour, and by This they make their Signature in all Letters and Deeds. Every temporal Peer of the Realm is deemed a Kinsman to the Crown. Their Deposition on their
Honour
is admitted in place of their Oath, save where they personally present themselves as Witnesses of Facts; and saving their Oaths of Allegiance, Supremacy, and Abjuration. Their Persons are at all times exempted from Arrests, except in criminal Cases. A Defamation of their Character is highly punishable, however true the Facts may be and deserving of Censure. During Session of Parliament, all Actions and Suits at Law against Peers are suspended. In Presentments or Indictments by Grand Juries, and on Impeachments by the House of Commons, Peers are to be tried by their Peers alone; for, in all criminal Cases, they are privileged from the Jurisdiction of inferior Courts, excepting on Appeals for Murder or Robbery. Peers are also exempted from serving on Inquests. And, in all Civil Causes, where a Peer is Plaintiff, there must be two or more Knights impanneled on the Jury.
The Bishops, or spiritual Lords, have Privilege of Parliament, but have not the above Privileges of personal Nobility. In all criminal Cases, saving Attainder and Impeachment, they are to be tried by a Petit-Jury. Moreover Bishops do not vote, in the House of Lords, on the Trial of any Person for a capital Crime.
All the temporal and spiritual Nobles that compose the House of Lords, however different in their Titles and Degrees of Nobility, are called Peers (Pares) or Equals; because their Voices are admitted as of equal Value, and that the Vote of a Bishop or Baron shall be equivalent to that of an Archbishop or Duke.
The capital Privilege (or rather Prerogative) of the House of Peers consists in their being
the supreme Court of Judicature,
to whom the final Decision of all Civil-Causes are confided and referred,
in the last Resort.
This
constitutional Privilege
is a weighty Counterpoise to his Majesty's
second Prerogative of appointing the Administrators of Justice throughout the Nation;
forasmuch as Judges (who are immediately under the Influence of the Crown) are yet intimidated from infringing, by any Sentence, on the Laws or Constitution of these Realms, while a judgement, so highly superior to their Own, impends.
The second great Privilege of the House of Peers consists, in their having the Sole Judicature of all Impeachments commenced and prosecuted by the Commons. And this, again, is a very weighty Counterpoise to his Majesty's
third Prerogative of the executive Government of these Nations by his Ministers,
since no Minister can be so great, as not justly to dread the coming under a judgement, from which the Mightiness of his royal Master cannot protect him.
The third capital Privilege of the House of Peers subsists in their Share, or particular Department of Rights, in the Legislature. This extends to the framing of any Bills, at their Pleasure, for the Purposes of good Government; saving always to the Commons their incommunicable Right of granting Taxes or Subsidies to be levied on their Constituents. But, on such Bills, as on all Others, the House of Lords have a Negative; a happy Counterpoise to the Power both of King and Commons, should Demands, on the one Part, or Bounties, on the Other, exceed what is requisite.
The Change of the ancient
Modus,
in conferring Nobility, has not hitherto, as I trust, been of any considerable Detriment to the Weal of the People. But, should some future Majesty, or rather some future Ministry, entitle Folk to a Voice in the second Estate, on any consideration, save that of eminent Virtue and Patriot-Service; might it be possible that such Ministers should take a further Stride, and confer
Nobility
for Actions deserving of
Infamy;
should they even covenant to grant such Honours and Dignities, in lieu of Services subversive of the Constitution; a Majority of such a Peerage must either prove too light to effect any public Benefit, or heavy enough to effect the public Perdition.
The DEMOCRATICAL; or, THIRD ESTATE.
THE ELECTION of Commoners, to be immediate Trustees and apt Representatives of the People in Parliament, is the hereditary and indefeisible Privilege of the People. It is the Privilege which they accepted and which they retain, in Exchange of their originally inherent and hereditary Right of sitting with the King and Peers, IN PERSON, for the Guardianship of their own Liberties and the Institution of their own Laws.
Such Representatives, therefore, can never have it in their Power to give, delegate, or extinguish the Whole or any Part of the People's inseparable and unextinguishable Share in the legislative Power, neither to impart the Same to any One of the other Estates, or to any Persons or Person whatever, either in or out of Parliament. Where Plenipotentiaries take upon them to abolish the Authority of their Principals; or where any secondary Agents attempt to defeat the Power of their Primaries; such Agents and Plenipotentiaries defeat their own Commission, and all the Powers of the Trust necessarily revert to the Constituents.
The Persons of these temporary Trustees of the People, during their Session, and for fourteen Days before and after every Meeting, Adjournment, Prorogation, and Dissolution of Parliament, are equally exempted, with the Persons of Peers, from Arrest and Duress of every Sort.
They are also, during their Session, to have ready Access to the King or House of Lords, and to address or confer with them on all Occasions.
No Member of the House of Commons, no more than of the House of Peers, shall suffer, or be questioned, or compelled to witness or answer, in any Court or Place whatsoever, touching any thing said or done by himself or Others in Parliament. In order that perfect Freedom of Speech and Action may leave nothing undone for the Public-Weal.
They have also (during Session) an equal Power with the House of Lords, to punish Any who shall presume to traduce their Dignity, or detract from the Rights or Privileges of any Member of their House.
The Commons form a Court of Judicature, distinct from the Judicature of the House of Lords. Theirs is the peculiar Privilege to try and adjudge the Legality of the Election of their own Members. They may fine and confine their own Members, as well as Others, for Delinquency or Offence against the Honour of their House. But, in all other Matters of Judicature, They are merely a Court of
Inquisition
and
Presentment,
and not a Tribunal of
difinitive judgement.
In this Respect, however, they are extremely formidable. They constitute the
Grand Inquest
of the Nation; for which great and good Purpose they are supposed to be perfectly qualified by a personal Knowledge of what hath been transacted, throughout the several Shires, Cities, and Boroughs, from whence they assemble and which they represent.
Over and above their Inquiry into all public Grievances;
wicked Ministers, transgressing Magistrates, corrupt Judges and Justiciaries,
who sell, deny or delay Justice;
evil Counsellors
of the Crown, who attempt or devise the Subversion or Alteration of any Part of the Constitution; with all such overgrown Malefactors as are deemed above the Reach of inferior Courts, come under the particular Cognizance of the Commons, to be by them impeached, and presented for Trial at the Bar of the House of Lords. And these inquisitory and judicial Powers of the two Houses, from which no Man under the Crown can be exempted, are deemed a sufficient Allay and Counterpoise to the whole executive Power of the King, by his Ministers.
The legislative Department of the Power of the Commons is in all Respects coequal with that of the Peers. They frame any Bills at Pleasure for the Purposes of good Government. They exercise a Right, as the Lords also do, to propose and bring in Bills, for the Amendment or Repeal of old Laws, as well as for the Ordaining or Institution of new Ones. And each House, alike, hath a Negative on all Bills that are framed and passed by the Other.
But the capital, the incommunicable, Privilege of the House of Commons, arises from that holy Trust which their Constituents repose in them; whereby they are impowered to borrow from the People a small Portion of their Property, in order to restore it threefold, in the Advantages of Peace, equal Government, and the Encouragement of Trade, Industry, and the Manufactures.
To impart Any of this Trust would be a Breach of the Constitution: and even to abuse it would be a felonious Breach of common Honesty.
By this fundamental Trust and incommunicable Privilege, the Commons have the sole Power over the Money of the People; to grant, or deny, Aids, according, as they shall judge them either requisite, or unnecessary to the Public Service. Theirs is the Province, and theirs alone, to enquire and judge of the several Occasions for which such Aids may be required, and to measure and appropriate the Sums to their respective Uses. Theirs also is the sole Province of framing all Bills or Laws for the imposing of any Taxes, and of appointing the Means for levying the Same upon the People. Neither may the First or second Estate, either King or Peerage, propound or do any thing relating to these Matters, that may any Way interfere with the Proceedings of the Commons; save in their Negative or Assent to such Bills, when presented to them, without addition, deduction, or Alteration of any Kind.
After such-like Aids and Taxes have been levied and disposed of; the Commons have the further Right of enquiring and examining into the Application of said Aids; of ordering all Accounts relative thereto to be laid before them; and of censuring the Abuse or Misapplication thereof.
The Royal Assent to all other Bills is expressed by the Terms
(Le Roy le veut) the King wills it.
But, when the Commons present their Bills of Aid, to his Majesty, it is answered,
Le Roy remercier Ses loyal Sujects et ainsi le veut, the King thanks his loyal Subjects and so willeth.
An express Acknowledgment that the Right of granting or levying Moneys, for public Purposes, lies solely, inherently, and incommunicably, in the People and their Representatives.
This capital Privilege of the Commons constitutes the grand Counterpoise to the King's principal Prerogative of making Peace or War; for, how impotent must a warlike Enterprise prove, without Money which makes the Sinews thereof! And thus the People and their Representatives still retain in their Hands the GRAND MOMENTUM of the Constitution, and of all human Affairs.
Distinguished Representatives! Happy People! immutably happy, while WORTHILY REPRESENTED.
As the Fathers of the several Families, throughout the Kingdom, nearly and tenderly comprize and represent the Persons, Cares, and Concerns, of their respective Housholds: So these adopted Fathers immediately represent, and intimately concentrate, the Persons and Concerns of their respective Constituents, and in them the collective Body or Sum of the Nation. And while these Fathers continue true to their adopting Children, a single Stone cannot lapse from the GREAT FABRIC OF THE CONSTITUTION.
The THREE ESTATES, in PARLIAMENT.
WITH the King, Lords, and Commons, in Parliament assembled, the People have deposited their
Legislative
or
absolute Power,
IN TRUST, for their whole Body; the said King, Lords, and Commons, when so assembled, being the
Great
Representative of the whole Nation, as if all the People were then convened in one general Assembly
As the Institution, Repeal, and Amendment, of Laws, together with the Redress of public Grievances and Offences, are not within the Capacity of any of the three Estates, distinct from the Others; the FREQUENT HOLDING OF PARLIAMENTS is the vital Food, without which the Constitution cannot subsist.
The three Estates originally, when assembled in Parliament, sat together consulting in the open Field. Accordingly at
Running-Mend,
five hundred Years ago, King
John
passed the great Charter (as therein is expressed) by the Advice of the Lords spiritual and temporal, by the Advice of several Commoners (by name recited)
et aliorum Fidelium,
and of Others his faithful People. And, in the twenty-first Clause of the said Charter, he covenants that,
For having the Common Council of the Kingdom to assess Aids, he will cause the Lords spiritual and temporal to be summoned by his Writs; and moreover, that he will cause the principal Commoners, or Those who held from him in Chief, to be generally summoned to said Parliaments by his Sheriffs and Bailiffs.
In said Assemblies however, the Concourse became so great and disorderly, and the Contests frequently so high between the several Estates, in Assertion of their respective Prerogatives and Privileges; that they judged it more expedient to sit apart, and separately to exercise the Offices of their respective Departments.
As there is no Man or Set of Men, no Class or Corporation, no Village or City, throughout the Kingdom, that is not virtually represented by their Delegates in Parliament; this
great Body politic
or
Representative of the Nation
consists, like the Body natural, of a Head and several Members, which, being endowed with different Powers for the exercise of different Offices, are yet connected by one main and common Interest, and actuated by ONE LIFE or SPIRIT OF PUBLIC REASON, called the LAWS.
In all Steps of National Import, the King is to be conducted by the Direction of the Parliament, his great national Council; a Council, on whom it is equally incumbent to consult for the King with whom they are connected, and for the People by whom they are delegated, and whom they represent. Thus the King is constitutionally, to be guided by the Sense of his Parliament; and the Parliament alike is, constitutionally, to be guided by the general Sense of the People. The two Estates in Parliament are the Constituents of the King; and the People, mediately or immediately, are the Constituents of the two Estates in Parliament.
Now, while the three Estates act distinctly, within their respective Departments, they affect and are reciprocally affected by Each-Other. This
Action
and
Reaction
produces that general and
systematic Controul
which, like CONSCIENCE, pervades and superintends the Whole, checking and prohibiting Evil from every Part of the Constitution. And, from this Confinement of every Part to the Rule of RIGHT REASON, the great LAW OF LIBERTY TO ALL ariseth.
For Instance. The King has the sole Prerogative of making War,
&c.
But then the Means are in the Hands of the People and their Representatives.
Again. To the King is committed the whole executive Power; but then the Ministers of that Power are accountable to a Tribunal, from which a Criminal has no Appeal or Deliverance to look for.
Again, to the King is committed the Cognizance of all Causes. But, should his Judges or Justiciaries pervert the Rule of Righteousness, an Inquisition, Impeachment, and Trial impends, from whose judgement the Judges cannot be exempted.
Again, the King hath a Negative upon all Bills, whereby his own Prerogatives are guarded from Invasion. But, should he refuse the royal Assent to Bills tending to the general Good of the Subject, the Commons can also withhold their Bills of Assessment, or annex the rejected Bills to their Bill of Aids; and they never failed to pass in such agreeable Company.
Lastly. To the King is committed the Right of calling the two Estates to Parliament. But, should he refuse so to call them, such a Refusal would be deemed
an Abdication of the Constitution;
and no One need to be told, at this Day, that
an Abdication of the Constitution
is AN ABDICATION OF THE THRONE.
Thus, while the King acts in Consent with the Parliament and his People, he is limitless, irresistible, omnipotent upon Earth; He is the free Wielder of all the Powers of a free and noble People, a King throned over all the Kings of the Children of Men. But, should he attempt to break Bounds, should he cast for Independence; He finds himself hedged in and straitened on every Side; He finds himself abandoned by all his Powers, and justly left to a State of utter Impotence and Inaction.
Hence is imputed to the sovereign Head, in the Constitution of
Great Britain,
the high and divine Attribute, THE KING CAN DO NO WRONG; for he is so circumscribed from the Possibility of Transgression, that
no Wrong can be permitted to any King in the Constitution.
While the King is thus controlled by the Lords and the Commons; while the Lords are thus controlled by the Commons and the King; and while the Commons are thus controlled, by the other two Estates, from attempting any Thing to the Prejudice of the general Welfare; the three Estates may be aptly compared to three Pillars, divided below at equidistant Angles, but united and supported at Top, merely by the Bearing of each Pillar against the Others. Take but any One of these Pillars away and the other Two must inevitably tumble. But, while All act on Each-Other, All are equally counteracted, and thereby affirm and establish the general Frame.
How deplorable then would it be, should this elaborate Structure of our happy Constitution, within the short Period of a thousand Years hence, possibly in Half the time, fall a Prey to Effeminacy, Pusilanimity, Venality, and Seduction; like some ancient Oak, the Lord of the Forest, to a Pack of vile Worms that lay gnawing at the Root; or, like
Egypt,
be contemptibly destroyed
by Lice and Locusts.
Should the Morals of our Constituents ever come to be debauched;
Consent,
which is
the Salt of Liberty,
would then be corrupted, and no Salt might be found wherewith it could be seasoned. Those who are inwardly the Servants of
Sin,
must be outwardly the Servants of
Influence.
Each Man would then be as the
Trojan Horse
of old, and carry the Enemies of his Country within his Bosom. Our own Appetites would then induce us to betray our own Interests; and State Policy would seize us by the Hand of our Lusts, and lead us a
Willing Sacrifice to our own Perdition.
Should it ever come to pass that Corruption, like a dark and low hung Mist, should spread from Man to Man, and cover these Lands. Should a general Dissolution of Manners prevail. Should Vice be countenanced and communicated by the Leaders of Fashion. Should it come to be propagated by Ministers among Legislators, and by the Legislators among their Constituents. Should Guilt lift up its Head without fear of Reproach, and avow itself in the Face of the Sun, and laugh Virtue out of Countenance by Force of Numbers. Should public Duty turn public Strumpet. Should Shops come to be advertized, where Men may dispose of their Honor and Honesty at so much per Ell. Should public Markets be opened for the purchase of Consciences, with an
O yes!
We bid most to Those who set themselves, their Trusts, and their Country to Sale! If such a Day, I say, should ever arrive, it will be Dooms-day, indeed, to the Virtue, the Liberty, and Constitution of these Kingdoms. It would be the same to
Great-Britain,
as it would happen to the Universe, should the Laws of Cohesion cease to operate, and all the Parts be dissipated whose orderly Connection now forms the Beauty and
Common-Wealth of Nature
--Want of Sanity in the Materials, can never be supplied by any Art in the Building  A Constitution of
public Freemen
can never consist of
private Prostitutes.
WITHIN little more than a Month,
Harry
made himself perfect Master of the foregoing System, and wrote Comments upon it much more voluminous than the Text.
As he had lost his Friend
Ned,
who was now under the Tutelage of his Uncle, Mr.
Catharines,
little
Dicky Clement
became the principal Companion of his Hours of Amusement, and
Dicky
with his good will would never be from his Heels.
One Morning, as they strolled up the Road, some Distance from the Town,
Harry
observed a Crowd gathering fast on the Way, and hastened, like Others, to see what was the Matter.
As soon as he arrived, he perceived Mr.
Gripe
the Constable at the Head of the Posse, with his painted Staff of Authority exalted in his Hand. Pray, what are you about, Mr. Constable, says
Harry?
I am going, Sir, to seize a Robber, who has taken Shelter in yonder waste Hovel --And who did he rob? --He robbed Mr.
Niggards
here, that is to say, his Boy here of a Sixpenny Loaf. Perhaps the Man was hungry, said
Harry,
and had not wherewithal to buy One. Pray, tell me, my Lad, how the Affair was.
Why, Master, you must know as how Mr.
Niggards,
my Master here, sent me this Morning to the Town with a Shilling to buy two sixpenny Loaves. So, as I was coming back, I met an able looking Man, who made me afraid with his pale and eager Face. My good Boy, says he, will you give me one of those Loaves in Charity? I dare not, Sir, says I, they are none of my Own. Here, says he, I will give you my Hat for One of them; but this I refused, as his Hat, to my thinking, was not worth a Groat. Nay, says he, I must have one of the Loaves, that's certain, for I have a Wife and seven Children all starving in yonder Hovel, and, while there's Bread in the World, I can't but snatch a Morsel for them. So, as I told you, I was frightened. I gave him One of the Loaves without any more Words, and away he run as fast as his Legs could carry him; but I followed him with my Eye till I saw him safe lodged.
Here,
Harry
wiped his Eye and mused awhile. Tell me truely now, my good Boy, continued he, if both those Loaves had been your own, would you willingly have given One of them, to keep the poor Man and his Family from perishing?
I would, Sir, said the Lad, with a very good Will. And, had I six Pence of my own, I would have gone back with all my Heart, and have bought another Loaf. But, my Master is a hard Man, and so I was forced to tell him the Truth.
Here, my Lad, says
Harry,
here is a Crown. Go back, buy two Loaves for your Master, in Place of the One he has lost, and keep the remaining four Shillings to yourself for your Trouble. You see, Mr. Constable, continued he, you never can make any thing like Felony of this Matter. The Boy confesses that he gave the Bread with a very good Will, and that he would not have informed, had it not been for fear of his Master.
It is very true, please your Honour, replied Mr.
Gripe,
I myself do pity the poor Man from my Heart, and will have nothing more to say in this Business.
Stay awhile, says
Harry,
perhaps we may find some further Employment for you. I think I should know the Face of yonder Man. Is not that the
Niggards
whom you had in Custody, the other Day, and for whose Deliverance I paid five and twenty Pounds to his Creditor? The very Man, Sir, says
Gripe.
Harry
then put his Hand in his Pocket, and, taking out a small Scrap of Parchment, exclaimed, I am glad of what you tell me with all my Heart! Indeed, I did not like the Looks of the Man at the time, and that made me accept an Assignment of this Action. Here, Mr.
Gripe,
take your Prisoner to fresh Custody in my Name. Away with him to Gaol directly! as the holy Gospel has it,
He shall not depart thence till he has paid the uttermost Farthing.
No, no, Mr.
Niggards,
I will not hear a Word. Go and learn hence forward to be merciful yourself, if you would look for any Mercy from God or Man.
Dicky,
my Dear, go back again, says
Harry,
our Neighbour
Joseph
here will see you safe home. I will not suffer any One to go in my Company, for fear of putting the poor Man or his Family to shame.
Harry
had not advanced fifty Paces toward the Hovel, when his Ears were struck with the Sound of sudden and joint Lamentation; and turning, he perceived that the inquisitive Crowd had gathered at his Heels. My Friends, says he, I entreat, I beseech you to leave me for the present. I would not choose any Witnesses to what I am about. Pray, oblige me so far as to depart on your own Occasions.
Hereupon, being loth to offend him, they retired a few Steps, and stood together, aloof, attentive to the Event of this uncommon Adventure.
Mean while the Cry continued with a Bitterness that thrilled through every Nerve of our Hero; and, as he now approached the Place, he did his utmost to restrain himself and quell the Feelings within him, and he drew his Hat over his Eyes, to prevent the Parties from seeing the Emotion that they caused.
The Hovel was of Mud Walls, without any Roofing; but, as there was an Opening where a Door had once been,
Harry
stole to the Entrance, casting an under Eye of Observation about him.
Hereupon, a Woman turned. She had been fearfully peering over the Wall at the Crowd which had not yet dispersed, but having Notice of
Harry
's Entrance, she looked toward him and dropped on her Knees.
O Sir, she cried, if you are the Gentleman who owned the Loaf, for Christ his Sake I pray you to have Mercy upon us! Money, indeed, we have not, but we have these Shreds remaining, and we will strip ourselves of our Covering to make you a Recompense. Alas, alas, could we have guessed how my Husband came by it, we would have famished a thousand Times rather than touch a Morsel. But he, dear good Man, did it all for our Sakes, for the Sake of the heavy Burden with which he is overladen. Ah, I would to Heaven we were all dead, hanged or drowned out of his Way. He might then walk the World at large, and be happy, as he deserves.
Here again, she set up her Wailing, which was accompanied by her seven Children, with such a woeful Consort, as the Heart of
Harry
could not sustain, neither suffer him, for a Season, to interrupt or appease.
At length he said, with a faltering Voice, pray be not alarmed, Madam. For I discern that you are a Gentlewoman, though in a very unhappy Disguise. The Affair of the Loaf is settled to your Satisfaction, and here are ten Guineas, it is all that I have about me, and it is only to show you, for the present, that you are not quite so friendless in the World as you thought. Meantime I request that you will All come with me to
Hampstead,
where we will try to do something better for you.
Here, the Woman looked with an earnest and eager Rapture at him. May
Jesus Christ,
she cried, be your Portion, my Angel; and he is already your Portion, he is seen in your Sweet Face, and breaks out at your Eyes in Pity to poor Sinners.
Harry
was now stepping forth, and the Rest prepared to follow him; when the poor Man, who, for Shame, had not yet uttered a Syllable, gently staid him at the Opening. Turn, generous Master, said he, pray turn and hear a small Apology for my Transgression. I am a very unhappy Man, I have seen better Times; but I am driven, by cruel Usage, from House and Home and Maintenance. I was going to
London
to apply to the Law for Relief, when my youngest Child, who was on the Breast, fell desperately sick about four Days ago. As we had no Money to hire Lodging, and had begged the Means of Life for the two foregoing Days, we were compelled to take up with this shelterless Hovel. From hence I frequented the Road, and for the three last Day, begged as much as sustained us in coarse Bread and Water. But, this Morning my Boy died, and his Brothers and I, with our Sticks and our Hands, dug his Grave that you see yonder, and I placed that Flag over him to preserve his tender Limbs from the Pigs and the Hounds; till it may please Heaven to allow me Means to bury him according to the holy Rites of our Church. This melancholy Office, Sir, detained me so long; and Exercise had made the Appetites of my Children so outrageous, that I was, in a manner, compelled to do what I did. As I had no Coffin nor winding Sheet, I took the Waistcoat from my Body and wrapped it about my Babe, and would willingly have wrapped him with my Flesh and my Bones, that we might quietly have lain in one Grave together.
Harry
answered not a Word, but, walking onward before his Company, plentifully watered the Ground with his Tears as he passed. While the poor Man took his youngest Son in his Arms, and the Woman her youngest Daughter on her Back, and thus, with a leisurely Pace, they all arrived at Mr.
Fenton
's.
The Door being opened,
Harry
led his nine Guests to the back Parlour, where he instantly ordered plenty of Bread and Butter and Milk for the Children, with cold Meat, Ale and Cakes for the Father and Mother; and this was a Matter too customary, in this House, to be any Cause of Wonder to any Member of the Family.
As soon as they were refreshed, he took them all to his Wardrobe, where he constrained the Parents to take of the very best Things for themselves and their Children; and having so done, he walked out and left them to dress.
Mr.
Fenton
was in his Study, and had just finished a Letter as
Harry
entered with a smiling Countenance. I have been very lucky this Morning, Sir, says he, I think I have got the prettiest Family of Boys and Girls that is to be found within five Shires. Do you know any thing about them,
Harry?
Nothing further as yet, Sir, than that they and their Parents are exceeding poor, and have fallen, as they say, into great Misfortunes. The Mother is a very handsome and genteel young Woman, and the Father a portly and very comely Man, save that he has a large purple Mark on the left Side of his Face. A purple Mark! cried Mr.
Fenton,
and started. Go, my Dear, and bring that Man to me directly. Why pray Sir, do you know him? No, my Love, I should not know him though he stood before me, but I would give a thousand Pound that he may prove the Man I mean, and that I shall discover on a short Examination.
By this Time, the Father of our new Family was dressed, and
Harry
took him by the Hand, bid him be of good Courage, and led him in to his Uncle. He bowed twice with an awful and timid Respect; while Mr.
Fenton
rose and looked earnestly at him. I rejoice, Sir, says he, to find that my Son, here, has been of some little Matter of use to you and your Family. Pray take a Seat, nearer to me, Sir, if you please. He tells me you have met Misfortunes, I also have had my Share. I think myself nearly of Kin to the Unhappy; and you will singularly oblige me by as much of your Story as you shall please to communicate. I am interested in it.
I have nothing to conceal from your Honour, answered the Stranger. And I shall willingly give you an open and faithful Narrative of my short but sad History.
My Name is
Giffard Homely.
My Father was a Farmer in easy Circumstances near
Stratford.
He bound me Apprentice to a Tanner; and when my Time was out, gave a hundred and twenty Pieces to set me up in my Business. But, dying soon after, he bequeathed the Bulk of his Substance to my elder Brother.
Though my Brother was a Spendthrift, I loved him dearly; and, when his Creditors fell upon him, I became his Bail for two hundred Pounds. Within a few Months after, he suddenly disappeared, and I never could learn further Tidings concerning him.
A Writ was thereupon marked against me, and put into the Hands of Bailiffs. But Liberty was precious. I left all my Substance to the Possession of my Pursuers, and, passing at a great Rate, I escaped into
Lincolnshire.
There I joined myself to
Anthony Granger
the Tanner. Independent of his Trade, he held a very beautiful and well parked Farm, under Sir
Spranger Thornhill,
the Lord of the Mannor. And, as I served him with great Zeal, Affection, and Application, his Affairs prospered mainly under my Hands.
He had an only Child, a very lovely Girl of about ten Years of Age, her Manners, like her Countenance, were extremely engaging; and I took vast Delight, at all leisure Hours, in teaching her to read and write, and in diverting her with a Variety of little Plays and Amusements.
I had no Intention, at that Time, of gaining her young Heart; but that happened to prove the miserable Consequence; and a heavy Price it is that my poor dear Girl has since paied for her Affection.
Year after Year, she now grew in Stature, but much more in Loveliness, at least in my Eyes. And yet I flattered myself that I affected her merely for her own sake. I used to please myself with the Prospect of her being advanced to high Fortune; and I thought that I would willingly have given her up at the Altar to some Lord of the Land.
One Hollantide Eve, a Parcel of young Folk, of us, were diverting ourselves about the Fire with several Pastimes; and, among the rest, the Play was introduced of,
I love my Love with an
A
because She's amiable,
and so on through the Alphabet.
When it came to my
Peggy
's Turn, she said, I love my Love with an H, because he's very
honest,
and I never will hate him for his being
Homely.
And this might have passed without any Observation, had she not cast a Glance at me and blushed exceedingly, which threw me also into equal Confusion.
As this was the first Discovery that I made of her Affection, it also served to open my Eyes to the Strength of my own Passion; and this cost me many a sleepless Night and aching Heart. I did not look upon myself as a sufficient Match for her; I reflected that it would be very ungenerous to lessen the Fortune or Happiness of the Girl that I loved; and I resolved a hundred times to quit the Country, that my Absence might cure both her and myself of our foolish Fondness for Each-Other. But, though this was what my Reason still prompted and approved; my Heart still held me back, as it were for a while longer, when I was on the Brink of Departure.
Peggy
was just arrived to her fifteenth Year, on the 24th of
April,
and was elected by the Neighbours to be Queen of the following
May,
and to deliver the Prizes to the Victors at the Wake.
I had made a Vow, within myself, to forsake her and the Country, the very Day after her Regency. But, in the mean while, I could not resist the Temptation of showing my Address before the Queen of my Wishes.
Accordingly, on the Day, I entered the Lists among the other young Candidates. But, I will not burden your Honour with a particular Detail of our insignificant Contests. You have unquestionably been Witness to the like on several Occasions.
It will be sufficient to inform You, that as I had the Fortune to get the better at the Race, and at Wrestling; when I successively went to receive the respective Prizes, my
Peggy
's Eyes danced, and her Feet went pit-a-pat with Joy as I approached her.
Cudgels came next in play, and a little Stage of Boards was erected for the Purpose, that the Spectators might see with the better Advantage. I had long learned this Art from a famous Master in
Stratford;
and, as I was confident of my Superiority, I hurt my Rivals as little as possible; only just sufficient to make them acknowledge that they were foiled.
At length, one
Hector Pluck,
a Butcher, mounted the Stage. He had, it seems, been quite an Adept at this Sport, and, for ten foregoing Years, had carried off the Prize from several neighbouring Shires; but he was now come to settle near
Lincoln,
and was to have been married, the following Day, to a Farmer's Daughter who was One of the fair Spectators at the Wake.
The Moment he assailed me, I perceived that his Passions were up, and that his Eye was a plain Interpreter of the Deadliness of his Heart. He fought cautiously however, and kept on a watchful Reserve; and we had long attacked and defended, without any Advantage on either Part; when, with a Motion and Fury quick as Lightning, he made a side Stroke at me, and aimed to cut me across the Face with the Point of his Stick. This was a Blow which I had not Time to intercept or even to see. The Villain however happily missed of his Intention; for his Cudgel, being something advanced, only bruised my right Cheek; when instantly I gave him an exasperated Stroke on the Head, and, cutting him to the Skull, laid him sprawling on the Stage; whereat All who knew me gave a great Shout.
After some Time he rose, and advancing a little toward me, he stretched out his left Hand, as if in Token of Reconciliation; while, pulling out his Butcher's Knife, from a Sheath in his Side-pocket, he, with his right Hand, made a Stab at my Heart, and suddenly leaping off the Stage, attempted to escape.
Immediately the Blood poured from me, in a Stream, and ran along the Boards. I found myself growing weak, and, sitting down on the Stage, I had the Presence of Mind to rip open my Bosom, and taking out my Handkerchief, I held it to the Wound.
In the mean time the whole Concourse was in an uproar. The Cry went about that
Giffard Homely
was murdered,
Giffard Homely
was killed. My poor dear
Peggy
fell senseless from her Throne, and was carried home in the Fit. Several Horsemen hasted away, of their own accord, for a Surgeon. And the Butcher was pursued, knocked down, hard pinioned, and conveyed with following Curses to the Gaol of
Lincoln.
Among Others who came to condole with me, little Master
Billy Thornhill,
our Landlord's Son and Heir, came running, and desired to be lifted up on the Stage.
As soon as he saw the Blood, and how weak and pale I looked, he broke out into a passionate Fit of Tears. O
Giffard,
my
Giffard,
my poor
Giffard,
be cried, I fear you are a dead Man! You will no more be my Holiday Companion,
Giffard.
Never more will you go a Birding with me; or set Gins for the Rabbits, or catch little Fishes for me; or carry me on your Back through the Water, or in your Arms over the Mire. Alack, alack, what shall I do, if I lose you, my poor
Giffard!
The Surgeon came at full Gallop. As soon as he had seen the Greatness of the Gash, say your last Prayer, my Friend, he cried; in a very few Minutes you must be a dead Man. But, when he had probed the Wound, his Face turned to Cheerfulness. A most wonderful Escape, he cried; the Weapon has missed your Vitals, and only glanced along the Rib. Be of good Courage; I engage, in a few Weeks, to set you once more upon your Legs.
Mean time, my loving Neighbours made a Litter and Bed for me of the Tents and Tent-Poles, All striving who should carry me, and All escorting me home.
The good Mr.
Granger
had been that Day confined by a Sprain in his Ancle, and now sat weeping by his Child, who fell out of one fainting Fit into Another, till she was told that I was brought home, and that the Doctor had pronounced me out of Danger.
As soon as I was put to Bed, and my kind Attendants withdrawn, Mr.
Granger,
on a Crutch, came limping and sat down by me. He had endeavoured to restrain his Tears before the Crowd, but as soon as he was seated they broke out anew.
O
Giffard, Giffard,
he cried; my dear
Peggy
is very ill, and You are very ill, and to lose you both at once would be hard upon me indeed!
Notwithstanding a short Fever, the Doctor happened to keep his Promise, with the assistance of Youth and a good Habit; and I began to gather Strength and recover apace.
As soon as I was up and about, I observed that Miss
Peggy
seemed no longer desirous of restraining her kind Looks or her kind Offices; and this gave me some Concern, till I also observed that her Father took no Unbrage, or no Notice of it.
One Evening, as we sat over a Tankard of October,
Giffard,
says he, bluntly, what would you think of my
Peggy
for a Wife? Nothing at all, Sir, says I. I would not marry your Daughter, if she would have me to-morrow. Pray why so,
Giffard? Peggy
is very pretty, and deserving, as I think, of as good a Man as you. Her Deservings, Sir, said I, are my very Objection; I scarce know a Man in the Land who is deserving of her. If that is the Case,
Giffard,
her Hand is at your Service with all my Heart. O, Sir, I replied, I have no suitable Fortune; but I know you are pleased to banter; I am no Match for her. You are an industrious and a making young Man, said he; and such a One is richer, in my Eye, than a Spender with Thousands. Beside, you are loving and goodnatured, my Son, and I shall not lose my Child by you, but gain another Child in you, as dear to me as herself.
Here, I was so transported, so overpowered by the Kindness of the dear good Man, that I could not get out a Syllable; but, sinking before him, I eagerly grasped his Legs, and then his Knees, and, rising, went out to vent my Passion.
In about a Month after, Sir
Spranger Thornhill
and my young Friend, Master
William,
honoured our Nuptials with their Presence; and all our kind Neighbours came crowding to the Solemnity, and, by their Joy, appeared to be Parties in our Union.
For eight following Years, never was known a happier Family. But, about that time, Sir
Spranger Thornhill
sickened and died; and was attended to the dark Mansion of the Bodies of his Ancestors, by the greatest Concourse of true Mourners that ever was seen in the Shire, All lamenting that Goodness was not exempted from Mortality.
Our dear Father could never be said to hold up his Head, from that Day. He silently pined after his old Friend, and Patron, Sir
Spranger;
and all our Cares and Caresses were not able to withhold him from following the same appointed Track.
Never, sure, was Grief like mine and my
Peggy
's. In looking at each Other we saw the Loss that we had sustained; and, while we lay Arm in Arm, often, often have we watered the good Man's Memory with our Tears.
Time, however, who has many severe Sorrows in Prospect, helps to soften and lessen those that he brings in his Train. An increasing Family of Children, sweetly tempered like their Mother, called for all my Concern; and our young Landlord, Sir
William,
whenever he came from College, used to make our House his Home, and take me with him wherever he went; till Lord
Lechmore,
his Guardian, took him from the University, and sent him abroad, with a Tutor and Servants, on his Travels.
As I had made considerable Savings, and now looked to have a Number of Children to provide for, I resolved to realize all that I could for the poor Things: So I built a Malt-House, and Wind-mill, and planted a large Orchard, with other profitable Improvements, that cost me to the Amount of about eight hundred Pounds.
While these Things were in Agitation, Sir
Freestone Hardgrave,
one of the Knights for our Shire, came into that Part of the Country. He had lately purchased a fine Estate, adjoining to the West-side of my Concern; and was a Man of vast Opulence, but a Stranger among us, at that time.
Though Sir
Freestone
was an old Bachelor, and had one of the most remorseless Hearts that ever informed the Shape of Man, he had yet a pleasing Aspect and insinuating Address, and always applied those Qualities to the Purpose of Betraying. Alas! I was informed, but too late, of his Character; that his Avarice outgrew even the Growth of his Wealth; and that his Desires increased in exact Proportion, as Age happened to deduct from his Ability to gratify them.
Unhappily, he cast a greedy Eye at my little Farm. Like another lordly
Ahab
he coveted the Vineyard of poor
Naboth;
and, at length, compassed his Ends by Means equally iniquitous.
When he proposed to give me more than Value for it, I answered, that I myself had taken a Fancy to it, for the sake of the dear Man who had given it to me, in Trust for his Child and her Posterity; and that I would not part with it for twenty Times an Equivalent. With this, however, he did not appear in the least disconcerted; but said that he esteemed and affected me the more for my Gratitude to the Memory of my old Benefactor.
I was afterwards told, and learned by dear Experience, that he never pardoned an Offence, nor even a Disappointment; but nothing of this Disposition appeared for the present. He visited, made it his Business to meet me in several Places; sought and seemed quite desirous of cultivating an Acquaintance with me; did me many little friendly Offices among my richer Neighbours; condescended to toy with my Little Ones; appeared to take a huge Liking to my two eldest Boys; stood Godfather to my little Girl that is now in her Mother's Arms; said he wondered how I contrived it to maintain so numerous a Family upon such slender Means; and promised to procure me a beneficial Post in the Collection of the Customs.
After a Course of such specious Kindnesses, and while my Heart glowed with Gratitude, in the Recollection of his Favours both past and proposed; he came to my House in a mighty Hurry. My dear
Homely,
says he, I have just struck up a most advantageous Bargain with our Neighbour Squire
Spendal.
But he wants the Money immediately. I have not the Whole about me; and yet if I don't pay him down directly, some cursed Disappointment may intervene. Do, run and bring me all that you have, quickly! I will repay you within two or three Days at furthest.
Here I hasted, with Joy, to the Corner where I had deposited my Cash, as well for Payment of Rent as another little Matter that I had in my Eye; and, bringing out a leathern Bag, I laid it on the Table. There, Sir, said I, are two hundred and thirty Guineas; take but the Trouble to count them out, and give me a short Acknowledgment. No, said he, my dear
Homely,
never heed it for the present, I will be back with you the Moment I have paid the Purchase; and so saying, he caught up the Bag, and huddled away as fast as his old Legs could scamper; while I sat still, through Astonishment, my Heart misgiving me, at the Time, as if it foreboded the Mischiefs that were to follow.
I waited, with great Anxiety, for his Return till Evening, when hastening to his Lodge, I was there informed that he had set out for
London
five Hours before. This threw me into a Pannick, though not altogether without a Mixture of Hope, and so I waited till the three Days of his Promise should expire. Mr.
Snack
then came to me and demanded the Rent. He was a
Lincoln
Attorney, whom Lord
Lechmore
had lately preferred to the Care of my Landlord's Concerns, upon the Death of Mr.
Kindly,
the good old Agent. I told him ingenuously how Matters had happened, and said I would hurry to
London,
and bring back the Money directly.
Accordingly, I posted away, and rested not till I arrived at the great City. There, for seven Days successively, I besieged the Doors of Sir
Freestone,
hourly knocking and requesting to be admitted to his Presence. But he was either not up, or just gone out, or had Company with him, or was just then very busy and not to be spoken to, and so forth.
At length, when he found that I would not quit his House without an Answer, he ordered me before him. His Chariot waited at the Gate, and he stood dressed in the Hall. As I approached, and bowed with the Respect and mortified Air of a Petitioner, he put on a Look of the most strange and audacious Effrontery I ever beheld. Who are you, Friend, said he, and what may your Business be with me? I am come, an' it please your Honour, humbly to tell you that I am called upon for my Rent, and to beseech your Honour to restore me the two hundred and thirty Pieces you had from me the other Day. Here, says he to his Servants, this must be some Desperado who is come to rob me in broad Day, and in the Middle of my own People; the Fellow says I owe him Money, I know not that I ever saw his Face before; I desire that you will not suffer such a dangerous Villain to enter my Doors any more. And, so saying, out he stepped, and away he drove.
O Sir, how I was struck to the Heart at that Instant! I snaked out, scarce half alive; not remembering where I was, or whither I was to go. Alas, I was far from making the Speed back again that I had done in going. I knew not how to show my Face to my
Peggy
or her dear Little Ones, whom I had plundered and stripped of their Substance by stupidly surrendering it, without Witnesses or a single Line whereby I might reclaim it. At length I got Home, if Home it might be called, that had, then, Nothing in it, or at least Nothing for me.
Mr.
Snack
had taken the Advantage of my Absence to possess himself of my Farm and of All that I was worth. Under colour of distraining for Rent, he had seized every thing, even the Beds whereon my Wife and Children lay, with all their wearing Apparel, save what they had on their Backs. The Bill of Appraisement, which I have here, comes to upward of six hundred Pounds. But, when the Cattle and other Effects were set up to Sale, the Auctionier and Bidders proved of Mr.
Snack
's providing; All were intimidated from offering any thing, save Those who offered in Trust for this Charitable Agent. And the Whole of my Substance went off within the Value of one Year's Rent, being one hundred and eighty five Pounds.
Never, exclaimed Mr.
Fenton,
never did I hear of so barefaced and daring a Violation of all Laws divine and human, and that too under Sanction of the most perfect System of Law that ever was framed. But, what will not Power effect, when unrestrained of Conscience, when prompted by Avarice, and abetted by Cunning! And, is there no Remedy, Sir, cried out our Hero? None that I know of, my
Harry,
save where Power opposes Power in Favour of Weakness, or Wealth opposes Wealth in Favour of Poverty. But we will see what may be done. Mean while, let Mr.
Homely
proceed in his Narrative.
When my Family, continued
Homely,
were thus turned out of Doors. An old Follower made way for them in his own Cottage, and retired with his Wife and Daughter to a Cow-house hard by. Mean while my loving Neighbours supplied them with sufficient Bedding, and daily kept them in Victuals, even more than they could eat.
While I went slowly to see them, stopping, and turning every Minute toward our old Habitation; all the Horrors of our Situation flew upbraidingly in my Face: And I accused myself as the Robber and Murderer of eight Persons, for any One of whom I would have spent my Life.
When I stooped to enter their lowly Roof, all trembling and sick at Heart, I expected to meet nothing but Faces of Aversion and Expressions of Reproach. But, when they all set up a Shout of Joy at my Appearance; when they All crowded clasping and clinging about me; the Violence and Distraction of my inward Emotion deprived me of Sensation, and I swooned away.
When I revived, I cast a Look about me, and perceived that their Grief had been as extreme, as their Joy was at my Arrival. Ah, my
Peggy,
I cried, how have I undone You! By you, I got all my Possessions, and, in Return, I have deprived You of All that you possessed. You were every Blessing to me, and I have repaid you with nothing but Misery and Ruin.
Don't be concerned, My Love, says she; neither repine at the Consequences of your own Goodness and Honesty. You are not as God to see into all Hearts; the Wisest may be deceived; and the Best, as I believe, are the most subject to be imposed upon. Common Charity must have supposed that there could not be such a Soul as Sir
Freestone
upon Earth. But be of good Courage, my Husband, I have good News for you. I dreamed that our dear Father appeared to me last Night. Don't be disheartened, my Child, says he; bear the Cross that is laid upon. You, with a cheerful and free Will, and All shall be restored to You seven fold upon Earth, and seventy seven fold in the Life that has no ending.
When I found that my
Peggy,
instead of Distaste and Upbraiding, had nothing but Love in her Looks and Consolation in her Expressions; I folded her to my Bosom, and to my Soul that went to meet her, and I would willingly have made her One with my own Being.
My Neighbours were not as Birds of the Season. They neither despised nor forsook me because of my Poverty. They came crowding to condole with me. They advised me to apply to the Law against Sir
Freestone
and Attorney
Snack;
and they offered to contribute towards my Journey. They also joined in this written Testimony of my Character and prosperous Circumstances, before
Snack
made his Seizure. And Two of them have witnessed in this bit of Paper that, when the Alarm came of Mr.
Kindly
's Death, and of a strange Agent's being put in his room, they heard my say that I did not matter the worst he could do; and saw me count down twenty Pieces over and above my Year's Rent.
The late Frights and Fatigues which
Peggy
underwent during
Snack
's Operations; together with her Extremes of Joy on my Return, and of Grief at the Fit into which I had fallen, hastened on her Labour; and She was delivered, before her Time, of that weakly little Babe whom I buried this Morning.
Within six Weeks after her Child-Birth, we prepared for our Journey. Our Neighbours, like the good
Samaritan,
had Compassion upon him who fell among the Thieves. They made me up a Purse of thirty and five Pounds, and promised to contribute further toward the carrying on of my Suit.
We travelled happily by easy Journeys of a few Miles a Day, till, nine Days ago, we reached a small Village the other Side of
St. Albans.
There we took up our Rest, for the Night, at a House that had no Sign, but set occasional Lodgings and sold. Bread and small Drink.
As I desired a separate Apartment for ourselves, we were put into a kind of waste Room, that had no Fastening to the Door except a Latch. After a slender Supper, we lay down on our Floor Beds, and I stuffed my Breeches close under my Head with all possible Caution. We had made an extraordinary Journey that Day, and I was particularly fatigued by carrying several of my tired Children successively in my Arms; so that we All slept but too soundly, and when I awoke in the Morning, neither Money nor Breeches were to be found.
Such a Loss, at another time, would have been as nothing to me. But, in our present Circumstances, it was a Repetition and Doubling of All that we had lost before. I instantly summoned the People of the House, and, in a good deal of Warmth, charged our Landlord with the Felony, telling him that I had been robbed of above three and thirty Pounds. Why, Master, says he, I know of nothing to the contrary, but it would be very hard, indeed, if I was to be answerable for the Honesty of every One who goes this Road. If you had given your Money in charge to me, I would have been accountable for it. I believe, by the Grief You are in, that You must have been Losers; I will therefore forgive you your Reckoning, and give you a Pair of Breeches of my own into the Bargain; but this is all I will do, till the Law forces me.
As there was no Remedy, at least for the present, I accepted his Overture and set out. But, O Sir, it is impossible to describe the Horrors of my Soul, as I silently stepped along, casting an Eye of mingled Pity and Despair upon my Children. I cursed in secret my own Existence, and wished for some sudden Thunderbolt to crush me into Nothing. All Trust in God or his Providence had now wholly forsaken me, and I looked upon him as neglecting all other Objects of his Wrath, and exerting his Omnipotence against me and Mine alone.
Peggy,
as I suppose, perceived how it was with me, and kept behind awhile, that she might give way to the present Tumult and Distemper of my Mind. At length, hoping to administer some Matter of Comfort to me, she came up and silently put a few Shillings into my Hand, saying, Courage, my dear Husband, All cannot be lost while we have a God who is infinitely rich to depend upon. Ay, said I, these are the Fruits of your Dreams, these are Your promised Blessings that Heaven had in Store for us. And still has in Store, she replied; the same Hand that holds the Rod holds the comforting Staff also. Tell me not of Comfort, I cried, I see that the Face of God is set in Blackness and Blasting against me. But, for me it matters not, had he not taken me at an Advantage. He sees that I have eight Lives, All dearer than my Own, and he is determined to kill me in every One of them.
Do not cast from you, my Love, she said, the only Crutch that the World and the Wretched have to rest upon. God is pleased, perhaps, to take all human Means from us, that he may show forth the Wonders of his Power in our Relief. While any other Hope is left, we are apt to trust to that Hope, and we look not toward the secret Hand by which we are fed and supported; but, when All is lost, All gone, when no other Stay is left, should sudden Mercy come upon us, our Comforter then becomes visible, He stands revealed in his Greatness and Glory before us, and we are compelled to cry out, with
unbelieving Thomas,
My Lord, and my God!
Though these pious Expostulations of my dearly beloved Preacher had little Influence, at the time, for appeasing my own Passions, I was yet pleased that my
Peggy
had her secret Consolations, but little imagined that her Prophecy approached so near to its Completion.
For two Days we held on, living on such Bread and Milk, as we could purchase at the Cabbins that had the Charity to receive us. But my Boy, who was on the Breast, grew exceeding sick; so we were obliged to shorten our Journeys, for the two succeeding Days, partly begging and partly paying for such Victuals as we could procure. Toward Evening we came within Sight of this Town. Our little Money was quite exhausted, and our Child grown too ill to bear further Travel. So, I looked about, and perceived some roofless Walls that stood off from the Highway, and thither we turned and took up our bleak Abode.
For the three following Days I frequented the Road, and by begging procured what scantily kept my Family from perishing. Mean time, my Spirit was tamed and subdued by the Habit of Mortification; and I looked up to Heaven and cried, Pardon, Pardon, O my God, the Offences and Blasphemies of my Murmurings against You! You formerly blessed me with an over Abundance of Blessings, and that too for a long Season; and, as
Job
justly says, shall we receive Good at the Hand of God and not receive Evil ?    O Friend, and Saviour of Sinners! if thou lovest whom thou chastenest, and receivest Those whom thou dost scourge; when Death shall have put a Period to the Sufferings of Mortality; may I not humbly look to find Grace at the Footstool of the Throne of thy Mercy-Seat?
At length our Child died this Morning, and we buried him in our Hovel, and watered his Grave with the Tears that we shed for him and for Each-Other. The rest, Sir, you know, till this Angel of God was sent, to accomplish the Prediction of my
Peggy
in all its Fulness.
Here
Homely
concluded; and, after a Pause and a deep Sigh, Mr.
Fenton
demanded, Have you told me the Whole of your History, Mr.
Homely?
I have, so please your Honour, through every Particular of any Signification.    I am sorry for it. Pray think again. Did you never meet with any Adventure that is yet unrecited? did you never save any Person at your own Peril ?    No, Sir  O, now I recollect.
Some two or three and twenty Years ago, as I fled from the Bailiffs who pursued me, as I told you, for the Bail of my Brother, I came to the River
Avon.
The Flood was great and rapid after the late Rains, and I thought of looking for a Place of smoother Water for my Passage, when a Gentleman and Lady, attended by a Train of Servants, came riding along the Banks. As they rode, chatting and laughing, a Fowler, who was concealed in a Copse just at Hand, let fly at a Bird; whereupon, the fiery Horse, that the Gentleman was on, took Fright, and, with a Bound, suddenly plunged into the Current; whereat the Lady gave a loud Shriek, and fell senseless to the Ground. The Horse rose without his Rider, and swam down the Stream. Soon after, the Rider appeared, and the Attendants were divided between their Care of the Lady and their Lamentations for their Master on the Edge of the Bank. Then, seeing no other Help, my Heart smote me, and I cast myself in without Reflection. I kept aloof, however, for fear he should grapple at me and sink us both together. So, I supported and shoved him before me toward Land, till, having reached the Bank, I laid hold on it with one Hand, and with the other raised him up within the Reach of his Servants, who had stretched themselves flat upon the Brink to receive him. Then, being already drenched, and having nothing further to do, I turned and swam over, and so made my Escape.
Did you ask the Name of the Party, whom you saved in the Manner you say? No truly, Sir, there was no Leisure for such an Enquiry.    Why did you not wait for the Recompense that was so justly your Due for so great a Deliverance ?    Recompense? please your Honour, I could have done no less for the Beggar who begs at the Corner.
Noble, noble Fellow! exclaimed Mr.
Fenton,
I am he, I am he whom you saved that Day, my Brother !    And so saying, he arose, and caught
Homely
in his Arms, and pressed, and pressed him over again to his Bosom. While
Harry,
all impatient, seized hold of
Homely
also, and struggled hard to get him to himself from his Father.
When they were something composed, and All again seated. Ah,
Homely,
says Mr.
Fenton,
I have sent and made many Enquiries after You; but, not for many Years after the Day in which you saved me. I hated, I loathed you for having prolonged my Life to such a Misery as no other Man ever endured. O  h, that Lady, that Lady !    But, no Matter for the present  (and, so saying, he wiped the swelling Tear from his Eye.)  Tell me,
Homely.
  That Devil, Sir
Freestone!
  I am not of a malicious Temper, and yet I wish for nothing more than full Vengeance on his Head.    Don't you believe that he went to You, with a felonious Intention of defrauding you of your Property ?    Believe it, Sir? I can swear it. The Circumstances and their Consequences are full Evidence thereof.
Very well, said Mr.
Fenton,
though we may not be able to carry a civil Action against him; we may assail him with better Advantage in a criminal Way. I will draw up and take your Deposition, myself; and, to-morrow, I will send you with a Note to Lord
Portland,
where more may be done for you, my
Homely,
than you think.
In the mean time, You and your Family shall take up your Abode in the back Part of my House, and from thence You shall not depart till, as your
Peggy
's Dream has it, all your Losses shall be restored to You sevenfold upon Earth; what your Portion may be in Heaven must be your own Care, and may the Spirit of Grace guide You in the Way you should go.
Early the next Morning, Mr.
Fenton
sent
Homely
to
London
with his Deposition and several Papers, accompanied by a Letter from himself to Lord
Portland.
In the Evening
Homely
returned, and, entering with a Face of Triumph, he seized Mr.
Fenton
's Hand, and eagerly kissing it, Blessed, blessed be the Hand, he cried, that hath the Power of God, among Men, for good Works. When I sent in your Honour's Letter, I was not detained a Moment. His Lordship made me sit down, perused my Papers with Attention, questioned me on the Particulars, grew enflamed against Sir
Freestone,
and gave him two or three hearty Curses for an execrable Villain. He then called a Gentleman to him who was in waiting, and ordered an Attachment to be instantly issued against the Knight. It was accordingly executed upon him, and he now lies in Newgate. God be praised! said Mr.
Fenton,
so far there is Equity still extant upon Earth.
It is not unnatural to suppose that Mr.
Fenton
's Family were immoderately fond of Those, whose Father had saved the Life of their most dear Master. Mr.
Clement,
in particular, took Pains and Pleasure in forwarding the Boys in their Letters; and Mrs.
Clement
passed most of her Time very happily with
Peggy
and her little Girls.
Frank,
the Butler, had been abroad upon an Expedition, at the time that Mr.
Homely
's Family arrived; and did not return till
Homely
had come back from Lord
Portland
's. He was then informed, with Joy, of the Guests they had got; and he waited with Impatience, till the Man he longed to see should come out from his Master. As soon as he appeared, he caught one of his Hands in both of his, and, looking lovingly at him, cried, Do I once more behold that happy Face, Mr.
Homely?
I was the Man to whose Hands you delivered my precious Lord from the devouring of the Floods. Gladly, Heaven knows, would I have sacrificed my own Life for the Salvation of his. But, alas! I had no Skill in contending with the Waters, and the sure Loss of my own Life would not have given the smallest Chance for the Recovery of my Master. You are the Person, Mr.
Homely,
to whom God committed that blessed Task and Trust. And Mr.
James,
and I, and all of us have agreed to make up a hundred Pound, apiece, for your Children, in Acknowledgment of the Benefit you did us on that Day.
Here,
Homely
took
Frank
very affectionately into his Arms, and, with a faltering Voice, said, Your Offer, Sir, is dear, very dear, indeed, unto me, as it is a Proof of that Love which you All so warmly bear to our common Lord and Master. If there is any Occasion, I will not refuse this extraordinary Instance of your Benevolence; but, our Master's Influence and Bounty are doing much in my Behalf. And, in the mean time, I will take it as a very particular Favour, if you will be pleased to introduce me to my Fellow-Servants of this House.
Within the following Fortnight, a Servant came, on a foaming Horse, and in a golden Livery, delivered a Letter at the Door, and rode away directly.
The Letter ran thus:
To HENRY FENTON,
Esq
Dear Sir,
THE Trial of our
recreant Knight
is at Hand; and, if you insist upon it, shall be prosecuted to the utmost Extent of our Laws. The Wretch, indeed, deserves to be gibbetted. But he has Relations of Worth and Consideration among us. They have besought me to shield them from Shame on this Occasion; and I join them in requesting you to accept the enclosed Order for three thousand Pounds, in favour of your Client, together with his Farm, and Effects, which Attorney
Snack
shall immediately restore.
Let me have your Answer within three Days, and believe me
Your true as well as obliged Servant, PORTLAND.
The Day following Mr.
Fenton
sent
Harry,
in his Chariot, attended by Mr.
James
and two Servants in Livery, to return his Acknowledgments to the Favourite of the King.
Lord
Portland
received our Hero with Pleasure and Surprise equally evident in his Countenance. As he, unknowingly, piqued himself on being One of the finest Personages in the Nation, he secretly respected his own Resemblance in Another.
After a few mutual Compliments and some occasional Discourse, the Earl told
Harry
that he must take a private Dinner with him. We are quite alone, says he, only two Viscounts, a Baronet, and four or five Gentlemen of the Ministerial Quill. Pray, my Lord, said
Harry
smiling, is a Dinner the whole of their Pension? Not so, Sir, I confess; they are the
Swiss
of the lettered World, and fight for Pay. They were formerly of the opposite Junto; but they have changed their Opinions along with their Party; and our Honour obliges us to give them at least as much in the Cause of the Crown, as they formerly got in the Cause of the Populace. I doubt, my Lord, returned
Harry,
that their Silence would answer your Ends, full as well as their Oratory, unless your Treasury could hold out in bribing People to read also. Very pleasantly severe, indeed, replied the laughing Earl. But come, the Bell calls us to our Bit.
When Dinner was over, and Cheer circulating with the Bottle, I would give a good deal to know, Master
Fenton,
said the Earl, what you and your Father think of his Majesty and his Ministers? Should I speak my downright Sentiments, my Lord, answered
Harry,
in some Things I might offend, and in Others appear to flatter. O, you cannot offend, in the least, cried the Earl; we are daily accustomed to be told of all the Faults, whereof we are, or may be, or might have been guilty; and, as to Flattery, you know it is the Food of us Courtiers. Why, my Lord, you want no Champion, for the present, said
Harry;
You are All, as I perceive, on one Side of the Question; and if some One does not appear, however impotent to oppose You, the Shuttlecock of Conversation may fall to the Ground. Right, very right, my sweet Fellow, rejoined his Lordship; proceed, you shall have nothing but fair Play, I promise you.
To be serious then, said
Harry,
my Father thinks, in the first Place, (for I have no Manner of Skill in such Matters) he thinks, I say, that his Majesty is one of the greatest Warriors and One of the wisest Statesmen that ever existed. He thinks, however, that he has Attachments and Views that look something further than the mere Interests of the People by whom he has been elected; but he says that those Views ought, in a Measure, to be indulged, in return of the very great Benefits that he has done us. He is, therefore, grieved to find that his Majesty has met with so much Reluctance and Coldness from a Nation so obliged.
You are a Darling of a Politician, exclaimed the Earl; but we will not thank you for your Compliments, till we know what you have further to object against us.
My Father admits, my Lord, that his Majesty and his Ministers have re-established and exhibited, in fair and open Light, the most glorious Constitution that ever was constructed. But then, he apprehends that You are beginning to sap the Foundations of the Pile that You, yourselves, erected.
As how, my dear young
Mentor?
By being over bounteous in paying former Friends, and by being still more profuse in procuring new Adherents.    Child of Honour, cried the Earl; Another, less elegant than yourself, would have said that we are sapping the Constitution by
Bribery
and
Corruption.
You have, indeed, my
Harry,
delicately tempered your Admonitions, even like the Cup of Life, the Sweets with the Bitters. But, what say You, Gentlemen, shall a Babe, lately from the Breast, bear away the whole Palm from People grown grey in Politicks?
The young Gentleman, says Mr.
Veer
(the Principal of the Court-Writers) talks wonderfully for One not versed in the Subject of which he treats. The People of
England
are stupidly proud and licentiously ungovernable; they are the most ignorant and yet most obstinate of any People upon Earth; it is only by their being selfish that they become in any Degree manageable; if their Voices were not bought, they would either give them to Persons of their own stupid Cast, unknowing in our Laws or our Constitution, or to Men of an antimonarchal and republican Spirit, who would be perpetually putting Rubs before the Wheels of good Government.
I never knew, till now, Sir, returned
Harry,
that, in order to make People true to their Country and their King, that is, in order to make Men honest, it was necessary to corrupt them. But I have still good Hopes that the Picture, which you have drawn of our Governors, is not altogether a just One.
Governors? cries
Veer,
I spoke not a Word of Governors. You spoke of the People, Sir, says
Harry,
and they, as I take it, are our Governors. The People our Governors! this is the most wonderful and the newest Doctrine that ever I heard, A Doctrine even as old as the Constitution, rejoins
Harry:
They are not only our Governors, but more absolutely so than Any so stiled. His Lordship is the only Man in Company whose Person, in some Instances, is exempt from their Jurisdiction; but his Property remains still subjected to their Decision.
No Law can be made in
Britain
but by the People, in their Proxies. And when those Laws are made, the People are again constituted the Judges thereof on their
Jury-Tribunals,
throughout their respective Shires; as also Judges of Facts and Rights, whether civil or criminal, throughout the Realm.
Thus, their Privilege of making Laws for themselves in PARLIAMENT, and of judging of the said Laws (when made) on JURIES, composes, as it were, a Rudder, whereby the People are admitted (gloriously) to steer the Vessel of their own Common-Wealth.
Would it not be a Pity then that so great a People should be no Other than Such as Mr.
Veer
has described them, a Parcel of ignorant, licentious, selfish, base, venal Prostitutes, unenlightened by Reason and uninfluenced by Conscience?
If they should be reduced, if it is possible, I say, that they should ever be reduced to so very vile and deplorable a State, it can only be by the very Measures that Mr.
Veer
has recommended. The Character, as ye know, of a certain old Tempter is not over amiable, and I should be sorry that Any, whom I love and respect, should follow in his Steps.
And now, Gentlemen, take the Argument home to yourselves. The People have the Disposal of our Lives, Liberties, and Properties. Which of You then would like to have Life itself and all that is valuable in it, at the Arbitration of a Pack of Wretches who, being wholly selfish, can have no kindred Feelings or Compassion for You? Who being, themselves, devoid of Honour and Equity, cannot judge according to the One or the Other; who, being already accustomed to Influence and Prostitution, have their Ears and Hands open to All who would whisper or bribe them to your Prejudice?
I, as a Fool, Gentlemen, utter the Dictates of Wisdom, for I speak the Sentiments of a much wiser and much better Man than myself. Should a general Corruption take Place in the Land, adieu to all Virtue; adieu to Humanity and all social Connections! all Reason and Law, all Conscience and Magistracy, all public and private Weal, must vanish or be confounded in one Chaos together. And, from hence it is self-evident that He, who debauches the Morals of the Least of his Majesty's Subjects, is an Enemy to his King, to his Country and Mankind.
I protest, said his Lordship, with some little Confusion, I never beheld this Matter in the same Light before; but I shall take Care to inspect and examine it at better Leisure.
Here the Company rose to separate; when
Harry,
stepping toward
Veer
with an affectionate Pleasantry in his Countenance; Mr.
Veer,
says he, I fear I have misbehaved a little to Day, I am naturally warm, and am apt to be too much so on particular Subjects. O Sir, says
Veer,
I am an old Prizefighter, and accustomed to Cuts; but I now know my Man, and shall hereafter avoid engaging, or keep barely on the Defensive; do me the Honour, however, as old Combatants were wont, to shake Hands, at parting, in Token of Hearts free from Malice. In the Contest of Love, Mr.
Veer,
you never shall foil me, cried
Harry.
Now, my Lord, if you have any Commands for my Father, pray let me have the Pleasure of being your Messenger. Upon my Honour, my dear Boy, and that is the Oath of a Lord, you shall not part me, for this Night at least. My Father, Sir, will be uneasy. I will dispatch One to him directly; I have particular Designs upon you; you must with me to the Levee; I cannot refuse myself the Pleasure of introducing you to his Majesty; I expect to get Credit by you. I rather fear, my Lord, that I may do you some Disgrace.
O, cried the Earl, you think you are not fine enough. Why, truly, you will see Folk there, of much more lustrous Attire. But, let Others disgrace their Ornaments; be you humbly content, my Child, with adorning your Dress.
Harry
blushed and bowed.
When they arrived at Court, the Earl left his young Friend awhile in the Levee-Room, and went to impart some Matters to the King in his Closet.
While our Hero stood in the Crowd, some One came and, with Birdlime, stuck a Paper to his Back, whereon was written in capital Letters, THE FOOL.
However, it did not remain long enough to do him much Disgrace. A young Gentleman, of a graceful Figure and very amiable Aspect, pressed close behind
Harry,
and gently stole the Writing away; then, taking him by the Hand, requested to speak with him apart.
I wonder, Sir, said the Stranger, who it was that could be so malicious, or so base as to fasten this Title on your Back; I am certain he must never have seen your Face. O Sir, said
Harry,
blushing and smiling together, this must have been the Office of some old Acquaintance; it is the Title to which I have been accustomed from my Infancy; and I am well contented to carry it with me to the Grave; I am much affected, Sir, however, by this uncommon Instance of your Humanity to an Unknown; pray add to the Obligation by letting me know to whom it is that I am so endearingly bound.
My Name, Sir, is
William Thornhill.
I am just arrived from my Travels; and I would willingly go my long Journey over again to become just such another Fool as you are.
Harry
seized him by the Hand, and gave him at once the Squeeze and the Look of Love.    Sir
William Thornhill,
I presume ?    The Same, my dear Sir  I have been enamoured of your Character before I saw You, Sir
William.
My Name is
Harry Fenton;
I live on
Hamstead Hill;
I see that your Pleasure lies in communicating Pleasure, I am therefore persuaded you will indulge me with a Call, at some leisure Hour  I will not defer that Advantage a single Day  I shall have the Lougings of a Lover, till you arrive.
Here the King entered, and all Converse was broken off. Lord
Portland,
looking about, discovered
Harry,
and, taking him by the Hand, led him up and left him standing before his Majesty. Then, approaching the royal Ear, may it please you, Sire, says he, this is the Son of the Gentleman who advanced us two hundred thousand Pounds on our Expedition from
Holland.
The King turned to
Harry
with a solemn and piercing Look; and, having eyed him for some Time, he again turned to the Earl and cried; Ay,
Portland,
this is Something, this, indeed, is a Gem fit to set in the Crown of a Monarch. He then reached forth his Hand, and while our Hero stooped to kiss it, He pressed
Harry
's Shoulder with his other Hand.
My dear Child, said the King, we are much obliged to your Father. You, by Inheritance, are attached to our Crown, and you may justly demand whatever we can bestow. We humbly thank Your Majesty, answered
Harry,
we only claim the Privilege of serving you with all our Hearts and all our Powers.
What Post would you choose, my Dear, in the Army, or in the Court? indeed, I should best like to have You about my own Person. That is the Pitch to which I aspire, answered
Harry,
as soon as I am capable of so high a Duty.
But, why have you been such a Stranger, said the King; had we seen you before, I think we should not have forgot you. O Sire, said
Harry,
I am but as a Bird from the Nest, and this is the first of my unfledged Excursions. If a Bird, cried the King, it must be a young Eagle. Not so, Sire, answered
Harry,
I should then better support the Brightness of the Sun that is now before me.    I would give one of my Kingdoms that you were my Son !    I am already One of Millions of happy Sons and Daughters who have the Glory of calling You their royal Father!
So saying, our Hero bowed twice, and drew back; while the King looked toward him, in Silence and Wonder.
After some Talk with his Courtiers, his Majesty retired. And Lord
Portland
took
Harry,
and was followed by a Number of the young Gentry, to the Ball-Room.
There the Queen, at the upper End, was seated under a Canopy, her Maids of Honour attending, and two brilliant Ranges of Foreign and
British
Ladies, were seated on either Hand.
The Earl gave a Whisper to the Master of the Ceremonies, and he immediately led
Harry
up to the Presence, where he had the Honour of kissing Queen
Mary
's fair Hand.
After some whispering Chat between her Majesty and Lord
Portland,
the Ball was ordered to be opened by our Hero and the lovely young Princess of
Hesse.
All Eyes were fixed upon them, with Attention still as Night, while they moved like
Homer
's Gods, without seeming to press the Ground; or like a Mist, before the Breeze, along the Side of some stately Hill.
As soon as the Minuet was closed, the Princess said softly to
Harry,
in
French,
the
Louvre,
Sir, if you please.
This was a Dance of the newest Fashion, and was calculated to show forth and exhibit a graceful Person in all the possible Elegances of Movement and Attitude.
As soon as they had finished, the whole Assembly could scarce refrain from breaking forth in loud Plaudits, as at the public Theatre; and a Humming of mixed Voices and patting Feet was heard throughout.
When
Harry
had led the Princess to her Seat, and left her with a Bow of the most expressive Respect, He looked about for some Lady whom he might choose in Succession; and, spying Lady
Louisa Bottom
at the opposite Side, he stepped toward her, and, bending, gracefully offered to lead her forth.
She gave him her Hand, tremblingly, and whispered, as she rose, You are a great Stranger, Sir, but we deserve you should be so, since we did not treat you with the Respect that your Merit should have commanded. That, Madam, answered
Harry,
is not wholly the Cause of my Distance; but, there are Persons whose Loveliness is more formidable to me, than an Arrangement of sabred Hussars with their fierce looking Mustaches.
Harry
had no sooner said this than his Heart smote him with Remorse; for, though
Louisa
was indeed lovely, and that he felt for her the Propensities and Tenderness of a Brother; yet, She was not of that Species of Beauty that was formed to fix his Heart: And he secretly reproached himself for having attempted to raise the Vanity, or draw the Affections of an innocent Girl, with no further View than of making a Parade of his own Talents; a Measure, he justly judged, unbecoming a Man of a Spark of Honour or Integrity.
When
Harry
had finished, and left
Louisa
on the Floor; the Master of the Ceremonies honoured Sir
William Thornhill
with her Hand; and, after four or five more Minuets by the younger Folk, the Parties were appointed and paired for Country Dances; except young Lord
Bottom,
who refused to step forth, and sat apart, ruminating and feeding on his own Cogitations.
The Princess and our Hero led up the Dance, and
Louisa
and Sir
William
were appointed the next in Course, in order to do the principal Honours to the two young Strangers.
As soon as the Dances were ended, and that All had mixed, and chatted, and roved about awhile,
Harry
observed Sir
William
coming toward him in a little Fluster. What is the Matter, my Friend, says
Harry,
pray what has discomposed you ?    Tell me, my dear
Harry,
that Jackanapes in the Blue and Gold, do you know who he is? I protest, had it not been for the Respect I owe the Presence, I would have chastised him on the Spot. The Dance was no sooner done, than he came up with a most provoking Sauciness in his Look. I wonder, Sir, said he, at the Insolence of One of your Rank; you ought to have had more Modesty than to suffer yourself to be paired with a Lady so far above You.
O, cried
Harry,
taking Sir
William
very lovingly under the Arm, pass this Matter over, my sweet Friend, I beseech you. That is young Lord
Bottom,
the very Person who, I'm pretty confident, contrived the honour of the
Pasquinade
on my Back this Day. But, he is Brother to the sweet Girl with whom you danced. For her Sake, for my Sake, forgive him, I entreat you; but, above all, forgive him for the Sake of his dear Father the Earl of
Mansfield,
One of the noblest Nobles, and One of the worthiest Men that ever stepped on
English
Ground. He has been, these two Years past, abroad upon an Embassy; and, while he is promoting the Interests of the Public, has left his own Houshold unchastened and unguided.
Here, the Converse of the Friends was suddenly broken off. The Master of the Ceremonies came and, tapping
Harry
on the Shoulder, told him that the Queen desired to speak with him.
When he had, with a lowly Reverence, advanced to the Throne; You are, said the Queen, the most accomplished Cavalier that ever I beheld; and, had I sufficient Youth and Beauty, I would choose You for my Knight to bear my Fame through the World. I would rather, said
Harry,
that your Majesty would employ me on some more dangerous Enterprise. How is that, said the Queen? Why, answered
Harry,
your Majesty's Champion could have little or nothing to do, as All would willingly acknowledge the Justice of his Cause.
You are, cried the Queen, the loveliest and the sweetest Fellow I ever knew. My Eye has followed you all along, and marked You for my Own, and I must either beg or steal You from our good Friend your Father. I, therefore, want no Token to put me in mind of You, but You may want some Token to keep your Friends in your Memory. Here are two Pictures; the One is the Portrait of our Master and sovereign Lord, justly enriched with Diamonds to the value of some Thousands. The Other is the Picture of the Woman who sits before you, lowly, simple, and unadorned; choose which you please.
Give me the plain Picture, cried
Harry,
with a kind of Rapture, it shall henceforth become my Riches and my Ornament.
So saying, he bent his Knee, and, taking the little Portrait, he pressed it to his Lips with the Ardour of an ancient Lover in Romance. Then, putting it into his Bosom, he gracefully rose; made three retiring Bows, and went from the Presence.
O, The Fool, the egregious Fool! muttered Some. Nobly, most nobly done, cried Others!
As
Harry
was following the Earl of
Portland
through the Palace-Gate, Lord
Bottom
came up with the Crowd and, in a half Whisper, said; You are too great a Man to Day, Sir, to acknowledge your old Acquaintance. But not so great a FOOL, retorted
Harry,
as not to be taught my Distance with Those who, like Lord
Bottom,
have a Right to look down upon me.
After a short but sound Sleep,
Harry
hurried Home to prepare for the Reception of his new Friend. He told Mr.
Fenton
that Sir
William
was returned; how he had been obligingly made known to him in the forementioned Instance of his Humanity to a Stranger; and that he had promised to be with them that Morning. But, pray Sir, don't tell
Homely
a Word of the coming of his Landlord, till we place them, as it were by Surprise, Face to Face.
In about an Hour after, a Chaise and Four came rapidly to the Door; and
Harry
instantly sprung out, and caught his Friend in his Arms before he came to the Ground.
The two Friends entered the Parlour, caressing and caressed, and casting Looks of cordial Love and Delight on Each-Other. My Father, Sir, said
Harry,
and led Sir
William
by the Hand to Mr.
Fenton,
who received him with a Countenance of that Heart-speaking Complaisance, which never fails to attach the Soul of the Person to whom it is directed. Ah, my
Harry,
cried Sir
William,
I no longer wonder at You; I see that You are All, that you are, by Inheritance.
But Sir, continued he, You had like to have lost your Son, last Night. Their Majesties were most unwilling to quit their Hold of him, and, I believe in my Soul, would willingly have adopted him the Heir of their Crown. I should be very sorry, Sir
William,
replied Mr.
Fenton,
to see a Circle about his Head, that would give him an aching Heart. I am sure that is the Case with the present royal Proprietors. In a limited Monarchy like ours, the Station of the Prince is looked upon with a malignant Eye by the Envious, and, at the same Time, rendered uneasy by the perpetual Contests, between Rights and Privileges, on the one Part, and Prerogative on the Other.
Moreover, Sir
William,
I shall never wish to see One, of my Child's Disposition, on the Throne of
Great-Britain.
I should be jealous of such a Person, in Behalf of my Country. No People could be more tenacious of their Liberties than the
Swedes,
till
Gustavus,
the Son of
Erie,
ascended the Throne. His Manners were so amiable, his Virtues so conspicuous, his Government so just, and he made so popular a Use of all his Powers, that his Subjects thought they could never commit enough into his Hands. But, what was the Consequence? His Successors made his Power a Precedent for their Own, without attending to the Precedent of his Administration.
Thus, you see, that a Prince, of Qualities eminently popular, might prove of dangerous Tendency to a free People, forasmuch as he might charm the Eyes of their Jealousy to sleep, and so seduce them from that Guard, which is ever necessary to preclude the Encroachments of Ambition.
But, Sir
William,
may we not order your Horses up? You must not think of going till you take a plain Dinner with us. A Supper too, Sir, most joyfully, answered the Knight. I leave
London
in the Morning, on a certain Expedition, and shall not have the Pleasure of embracing you again, for some time.
Here the Bell was rung, and the Cattle and Carriage disposed of. When Mr.
Fenton
thus addressed the Baronet, with a Smile. Our
Harry
here, Sir
William,
never saw a Court, before; it is natural therefore to think that he must have been greatly amused, and his young Heart deceived by the Splendor and Parade. But you have seen, and observed upon many Courts, of late; pray what do you think of the Entertainment they afford?
As of the dullest of all dull Farces, answered the Knight. All the Courts that I have seen are nearly of the same Cast. Conceive to yourself, Sir, a Stage or Theatre of Comedians, without Auditors or Spectators. They are All Actors and all Act, nearly, the same Part, of solemn Complaisance and nauseous Grimace. Each intends to impose, and yet no One is imposed upon; where Professions are taken to imply the very Reverse of what they express.
What do you say to this,
Harry,
says Mr.
Fenton?
I have very little to say, Sir, in favour of the Actors, but the Actresses, as I take it, afford better Entertainment. Here, Sir
William
and Mr.
Fenton,
laughed; and
Harry,
upon a Wink, stepped out to bring in
Homely,
as it were by stealth.
Sir
William,
said Mr.
Fenton,
there is a Man come to this House, who once saved my Life at the risk of his Own. It is a great many Years ago, and I have not seen him since the Action, till very lately. I have sent
Harry
for him, that you may learn the Particulars, and advise with me what Recompense he ought to receive.
If the Recompense is to be proportioned to the Value of the Life he saved, my honoured Sir, I should not know where to fix the Bounds of Retribution. And in Truth, Mr.
Fenton,
from my Knowledge of you this Day, I also hold myself very highly his Debtor.
At this Instant
Harry
led in
Homely
by the Hand, and left him standing directly opposite to the Baronet.
Homely
gazed with all his Eyes, and stood mute through Astonishment.    At length he exclaimed, Bless me !    Mercy upon me !    as sure as I hope for Heaven,  it is  I think it is, my dear young Master!
Sir
William,
at the Voice, lifted up his Eyes to
Homely,
and, remembering his marked Man, rose quickly and, springing forward, embraced him with much familiar Affection; while Mr.
Fenton
sat, and his
Harry
stood beside him, Both rapt in their own delicious Sensibilities.
My dear
Homely,
my old Companion and brother Sportsman! cried Sir
William,
how in the World comes this about? so joyfully, so unexpectedly to meet you here! --How is your Wife, and pretty Babes? I hope you left All well at Home.
Yes, please your Honour, they are All well, wonderfully well in this House, I assure you; for, indeed, your
Homely
has no other Home upon Earth.
What you tell me is quite astonishing, replied the Knight; no Home for you within the Manor and Demesne of your Friend? What Misfortunes, what Revolutions could bring this Wonder to pass?
Sit down, said Mr.
Fenton,
pray be seated Mr.
Homely,
and give your Lord a succinct but deliberate Account of the inimitable Pair, Sir
Freestone
and his Coadjutor.
As soon as
Homely
had told his Tale, from the Commencement of his Distresses to his Arrival at the Hovel, he stopped short and said --I have something more to impart, --but I hope your Honour will pardon me, --I am loth to deprive your Friends of your Company; but then my
Peggy
and my Boys will be so transported to see your dear Face again, that I can't but beseech you to indulge them, a Minute or two, with that Blessing.
Sir
William
rose, with a troubled Humanity in his Countenance, and followed to a back Apartment, where
Homely
again stopped him short; and, before he would take him to his
Peggy,
he there gave him a minute Detail of all his Obligations to what he called this wonderful Family. But, pray Sir, continued he, let them know very little of what I have told you, for nothing puts them to so much pain, as any kind of Acknowledgments.
After a short Visit to
Peggy
and her Children, Sir
William
returned to his Friends, with such an inward Awe and Veneration for their Characters as, for a while, sunk his Spirits and solemnized his Features. This poor Man, Sir, said he, has been miserably treated; but God has been exceedingly gracious to him, in casting the Shipwreckt Wretch on such a happy Shore as this. But this makes no Discharge of any Part of my Duty toward him.
Mark me,
Homely,
I am now of Age, and Lord
Lechmore
has no further Authority in my Affairs; wherefore, before I leave this House, I will give you a Letter of Attorney for the whole Agency of the Manor. Thank your Honour, thank your Honour, cried
Homely,
in a Kind of Transport! if I do not prove as faithful to you as Another I will do you Justice on myself with the first Rope I can lay hold on.
As for that Reprobate
Snack,
continued the Knight, I will take Care to be up with him. He owes the Executors of my Father six hundred and seventy Pounds. I will have that Matter put directly in Suit, and, as soon as it is recovered, it shall be laid out on a Commission for your Son, my Friend
Tom;
as I do not choose yet to ask any Favour from the Ministry. Lastly, that you may no more be distressed for Rent, I will never accept a Penny of it, till all your Children are decently and competently provided for.
O Sir, exclaimed
Homely,
I shall be too rich, quite overburdened; I shall not know where to lay my Treasures. Not so fast, my good Friend, replied Sir
William,
smiling; you have not heard of the Draw-back that I propose to have upon you. Whenever I reside in the Country, You are to have a hot Dish, ay and a cool Hogshead too, ready for me and my Company. Agreed, Sir, cried
Homely,
provided I may have the Liberty, during your Absence, to drink your Honour's Health out of that same Hogshead. --A just Reserve, said
Harry,
laughing. --And full as grateful as it is jovial, cried Mr.
Fenton.
--Why, Gentlemen, rejoined
Homely,
a Man of Spirit would scorn to accept such Benefits, without making Conditions.
After twelve o'Clock at Night, and an affectionate and tender Adieu, Sir
William
set out by Moon-light for
London.
The two following Days, were employed in preparing for
Homely
's Departure; and a Coach and Four, with a Chaise, were provided for the Conveyance of him and his Family.
The Night before their parting, Mr.
Fenton
desired that
Homely
and his Wise should be sent to him to his Closet. As soon as they entered, he closed the Door. My dear Friends, said he, I may not be up in the Morning to take a timely Leave of you, it may do as well to go through that melancholy Office to Night. --Here, Mrs.
Homely,
here is some little Matter, apiece, toward beginning a Fortune for your three pretty Daughters. Pray,
Homely,
take Care to have it disposed of for them upon good Securities. Here he put three Orders, upon his Banker, into
Peggy
's Hand, Each consisting of the Value of five hundred Pieces. Then, turning to
Homely,
and taking him straightly in his Arms, God be with you and your dear
Peggy,
my
Homely,
he cried, and give us All a blessed Meeting where Friends shall part no more!
The distressed
Homely
was past utterance; but disengaging, and flinging himself at the Feet of his Patron, while
Peggy
kept on her Knees weeping and sobbing beside him; O, he cried, at length, Next to my God, O, next to my Lord and my God! --My Lord, and my Master, my Master and my Lord!
The next Morning, before Sun-rise,
Harry
was up, and, going to
Homely
's Apartment, embraced him and his Wife. He then kissed and caressed all the Girls and Boys, round, and gave to each of them a Gold Medal to keep him in their Remembrance.
They then adjourned to the Hall, where they found already gathered, Mr. and Mrs.
Clement
with their little
Dicky,
Mr.
James, Frank, Andrew
and
George,
with Mrs.
Hannah, Susan,
and
Sarah,
all deploring the Departure of their beloved Guests. The Carriages were at the Door, and Time pressed, when
Homely
and his
Peggy,
with open Arms, trembling Lips, and swelling Eyes, began to take their Leave. Then
Homely
cried aloud, God be with you, God be with you; never, never, till I get to Heaven, shall I meet with such another dear Assembly! All then broke aloud into Tears, and Sobbings; while
Homely
took his weeping
Peggy
by the Hand; and breaking forth, with a heavy Heart, placed her and his Family in the Carriages: And away they went, though in opulent Circumstances, yet with much more oppressed Spirits, than when they arrived.
Mr.
Fenton
now judged it time to forward his
Harry
's Education, especially with respect to his Knowledge of the World, of the Views, Pleasures, Manners, Bents, Employments, and Characters of Mankind.
For this Purpose he proposed to leave
Arabella
sole Regent of his Family. And, for a few Weeks, to stay with
Clement
and
Harry
in
London,
there to show him whatever might gratify his Curiosity or merit his Inspection.
While the Coach was in waiting, and they All stood on the Hill, the great City being extended in ample View beneath them, Mr.
Fenton
exclaimed:   O!
London, London,
thou Mausoleum of dead Souls, how pleasant art thou to the Eye, how beautiful in outward Prospect! but within how full of Rottenness and reeking Abominations! They Dealers are all Students in the Mystery of Iniquity, of Fraud and Imposition on Ignorance and Credulity. Thy public Offices are hourly exercised in Exactions and Extortion. Thy Courts of Judicature are busied in the Sale, the Delay, or Perversion of Justice, they are shut to the Injured and Indigent, but open to the wealthy Pleas of the Invader and Oppressor. Thy Magistracy is often employed in secretly countenancing and abetting the Breach of those Laws it was instituted to maintain. Thy Charities, subscribed for the Support of the Poor, are lavished by the Trustees in pampering the Rich, where Drunkenness swallows till it wallows, and Gluttony stuffs till it pants, and unbuttons and stuffs again. Even the Great Ones of thy Court have audaciously smiled away the Gloom and Horrors of Guilt, and refined, as it were, all the Grossness thereof, by new inverting Terms and palliating Phrases. While the Millions that crowd and hurry through thy Streets, are universally occupied in striving and struggling, to rise by the Fall, to fatten by the Leanness, and to thrive by the Ruin of their Fellows. Thy Offences are rank, they steam and cloud the Face of Heaven. The Gulf also is hollow beneath, that is one Day to receive thee. But the Measure of thy Abominations is not yet full; and the Number of thy Righteous hath hitherto exceeded the Proportion that was found in the first
Sodom.    
That Evening they went to the Opera, where
Harry
was so captivated by the sentimental Meltings and varied Harmony of the Airs, that he requested Mr.
Fenton
to permit him to be instructed on some Instrument. Not by my Advice, my Dear, answered Mr.
Fenton,
I would not wish you to attempt any thing in which you may not excel. Music is a Science, that requires the Application of a Man's whole Lise in order to arrive at any Eminence. As it is enchanting in the Hand of a Master, it is also discordant and grateing in its inferior Degrees. Your Labours have been employed to much more valuable Purposes; and I would not, as they say, give my Child's Time for a Song.
Harry
instantly acquiesced, with the best Temper imaginable; as the Will of his beloved Patron was, truely speaking, his own Will; and that he only wanted to know it, to be at all Times, and on all Occasions, conformable thereto.
A few following Days were employed in visiting the Tower, in surveying the Armory, Regalia,
&c.
in viewing the royal Beasts, the Monument, and Exchanges, and lastly, in contemplating the Solemnity of
Westminster
Pile, with the marbled Effigies and monumental Deposits of the Renowned in Death; the Place, as Mr.
Fenton
affectingly observed, to which all the Living must finally adjourn.
The next Night they went to the Theatre, to see the Feats of Signor
Volanti,
the celebrated
Italian
Posturemaster, Ropedancer and Equilibrist. Such Wonders are now so common as to be scarce entertaining; but, at that Time, they were received with Bursts and Roars of Applause.
Our Hero felt himself attached, by the similar Excellences of his own Activity in Another; and, going behind the Scenes, he accosted
Volanti
in
French.
Signor, said he, I have been highly entertained by your Performance this Night, and here are five Guineas in return of the Pleasure you have given me. The Foreigner looked at
Harry,
and then at the Money, with a kind of Astonishment. I thank you, noble Sir, he cried, my poor Endeavours are seldom so liberally rewarded. Pray, how long do you stay with us? In about a Fortnight, so please your Nobleness, I intend to leave
London.
But, before I go, I would do something to leave a Name behind me. A Day or two before my Departure, I will fly from the Spire of Saint
Clement
's Church, in the Sight of all the People; and this I will do
gratis,
or rather in Acknowledgment of the Favours I have received in this Kingdom. But is it possible to execute what you propose? With all Ease and Safety, Sir, I have done nearly as much, three Times in
Germany,
and once at
Madrid.
Here an arch Thought struck
Harry,
and, musing a Moment, will you permit me, said he, to be the Conductor of this Affair? Allow me only to appoint the Day and draw up your Advertisement, and I will make you a Present of twenty Pieces. Agreed, Sir, cried
Volanti,
and twenty thousand Thanks to confirm the Bargain. Accept these five Guineas then, in Earnest of my Engagement; my Servant, here, will tell or show you where I am to be found.
That Night, at Supper, Mr.
Fenton
remarked an unusual Pleasantry in the Muscles of his Darling's sweetly sober Countenance. My
Harry
I find, said he, does not always impart all his Secrets to his Friends; he has certainly some roguish Matter in Cogitation.
Magicum calles,
Sir, cried
Harry,
You are a Conjurer, that's certain. Why, the Public, as you know, Sir, have put the FOOL on me from my Birth;
Homer
says that Revenge is sweet as Honey to the Taste; and so I am meditating in turn how to put the FOOL upon the Public. And how do you contrive it,
Harry?
only by acting the old Proverb, that,
one Fool makes Many.
But pray ask me not about the Manner, till I bring the Business to some Bearing.
The next Day, being
Thursday,
they All went, in Mr.
Fenton
's Coach, to
Smithfield,
where Numbers of Tents were set up, and several Drolls and Pantomimes,
&c.
prepared, in Imitation of the Humours of
Bartholemew
Fair. The Weather was fair and calm, and they let down all the Glasses, that they might see, without Interruption, whatever was to be seen.
Their Coach stopped just opposite to an itinerant Stage, where a Genius, who comprised, within his single Person, the two important Functions of a Tumbler and Merry-Andrew, by his successive Action and Oratory, extorted Plaudits and Huzzas from all the Spectators.
Among the rest, a Countryman, who rode upon a Mule, sat gaping and grinning, by Intervals, in all the extatic Rapture that can be ascribed to Enthusiasm. While his Attention was thus riveted, two knavish Wags came, and, ungirthing his Saddle, supported it on either hand, till a Third of the Fraternity led his Mule away from under him, and a Fourth came with a three legged Horse, such as Houswives dry their Linnen on, and, having jammed it under the Saddle, they all retreated in Peace.
The Populace were so delighted at this humorous Act of Felony, that, instead of interrupting it, it only served to redouble their Joys and Clamours.
Harry,
too, greatly chuckled and laughed at the Joke. But, when he saw the Beast led off, and that the amazed Proprietor, on stooping to take the Bridle, had fallen precipitately to the Ground, his Heart twitched him with a Kind of Compunction, and, throwing himself out at the Coach Window, he made all the Speed that the Press would admit, and, recovering the Mule, brought it back to its Owner.
Here, Friend, said he, here is your Beast again, take Care the next time that they don't steal your Teeth. Thank you, Master, said the Clown, since you have been so honest as to give him to me back, I will never be the One to bring you to Sizes or Sessions. I am much obliged to your Clemency, answered
Harry,
but pray let me have the Pleasure of seeing you safe mounted. So saying he held the Stirrup, while the Booby got up and said, Well, my Lad, very well, if we happen to meet at
Croydon,
we may take a Pot together.
Mr.
Fenton
beheld and contemplated this whole Scene with all the cordial Gratifications that the Heart of Man could seel; and langhing, as his Favourite entered the Coach, my honest Friend, said he, your Officiousness might have brought us All into a Scrape; for, had you been given in Charge to the Constable, you would probably have applied to your Companions for Bail. I don't think, Sir, said
Clement,
that the Action would have been bailable, neither could we deny that we saw the stolen Beast in his Custody. In Truth, Gentlemen, said
Harry,
I partly begin to be of Mr.
Veer
's Opinion, that the Peasantry of
England
are the most boorish and insensible of all the human Species.
In the Evening, they adjourned from Coffee to David's Harp in
Fleetstreet,
in order to hear
Marmulet
the famed
Genoese
Musician, who performed on the Psaltery, the Viol d'Amor, and other Instruments not known till then in
England.
They took Mr.
James
with them, to partake of the Entertainment, and were shown to a large Room, where Each paid Half a Crown at the Door.
The Room was divided into a Number of Boxes, where each Company sat apart, while they were jointly gratified and charmed by the inimitable Execution of the Musician.
A Flask of Burgundy was set before Mr.
Fenton
and his Friends, while Mr.
Hardy
and Mr.
Hilton,
who sat in the next Box, were regaling themselves with a Flask of Rosa Solis.
All was Silence and Attention till there was a Pause in the Performance. Then, said Mr.
Hardy,
do you know,
Jack,
that the Earl of
Albemarle
is to have a Mask on
Monday
Night? I am sorry to hear it, said Mr.
Hilton,
as I am obliged to be out of Town. I may happen to save something by that, said
Hardy,
you must lend me your Domino. Indeed, I cannot, it was torn to Fritters in a Scuffle as I came out from the last Masquerade. Lend me your Mask then. That, too, was lost at the same time, but what occasion can you have for a Mask,
Hardy?
I am sure no One will take that for a natural Face. Mine is the Face of
Mars, Hilton,
yours that of
Adonis,
with which no Modern
Venus
will ever be sinitten, I promise you. I will engage to outrival an Army of such Jackanapes in an Assault on the Fair. If Impudence may compensate for the Want of other Artillery, I believe you may do Wonders,
Hardy.
And it does compensate, my Friend. Women, take my Word and Experience for it, love nothing of their own Resemblance, except in the Glass. They detest any thing that looks like an Ambiguity in the Sex. While what you are pleased to call Impudence,
Jack,
spares their Modesty, saves them the Appearance of an Advance on their Part, and gives them the Pleasure of piquing themselves on their extraordinary Virtue, in Case they should happen to make a Defence. However, since you have complimented me, on my Assurance, I will put it to the Test on this Occasion; and go to his Excellency's Ball, without any other Vizard save this which Nature, in her great Bounty, hath bestowed.
When our Company were on the Return to their Lodgings,
Harry,
said Mr.
Fenton,
would you not like to go to this Masquerade? Why, Sir, as I have not yet seen One, perhaps it might not be amiss to satisfy my Curiosity for once in my Life. In Truth, said Mr.
Fenton,
I wish they never had been introduced into this Kingdom, as they are Inlets to Intrigue, and give Countenance to Licentiousness. However, for once in your Life, as you say, you shall be gratified, my
Harry.
Be pleased to tell me, Sir, are they very entertaining? They would be extremely diverting, my Dear, if People acted up to the Characters that they pretend to represent. But, on the contrary, they have Sailors who don't know a Point in the Compass or the Name of a Rope in the Ship. Shepherds and Shepherdesses who never eloped from the cockney Dialect of the City. Indian Queens who can say nothing as to their Subjects or their Sovereignty. Gods and Goddesses totally ignorant of their own History in the Mythology. And
Italian
Cardinals who will swear you in the Phrase of a
Yorkshire
Foxhunter.
But, what shall we do for Tickets,
Harry?
I don't care to apply to my Friends, for Fear of discovering that we are in Town. O Sir, said Mr.
James,
I am acquainted with his Excellency's Major Domo, and can procure you as many Tickets as You please.
Mr.
Fenton
assumed to himself, for the present, the Appointment of
Harry
's Character and Dress. As the Plainness of your Garb has hitherto, said he, been a Mask and Disguise to your internal Ornaments; the Brilliancy of your Dress shall now, on the other Hand, disguise and conceal the Simplicity of your Manners.
About two Hours before the Opening of the Ball,
Harry
wrapped himself in a Cloak of black Bays, and stepped into a hackney Coach with Mr.
James,
who had promised to introduce him to his Friend Mr.
Dominic,
in order for him to reconnoitre the several Scenes of Operation before the Action began.
The Major Domo received
Harry
with the utmost Complacence; for he held his Mask in his Hand, and the Loveliness of his Aspect shone with peculiar Lustre through the Blackness of his Attire.
After surveying several Apartments, they passed through the long Room and entered, by an arched Gateway, into a Kind of Saloon, at the upper End of which was a Pedestal of about five Feet in height, whereon a celebrated Statue of the
Hercules Farnese
had formerly stood.
Harry
eyed it attentively and, conceiving a sudden Frolic, he instantly cast away his Cloak, clapped on his Mask and winged Helmet, grasped his Caduceus with his Right, and, laying his Left on the Top of the Pedestal, sprung lightly up; and threw himself into that Attitude, to which the Statuaries have formed their
Mercury,
when just prepared for flight.
His Headpiece was of thinly plated but polished Gold, buckled together at the joining by four burning Carbuncles. His Jacket was of Genoa Silk, died in Ultra Marine, exceeding the Tint of an Egyptian Sky. It was braced close to his Body with Emerald Clasps, that showed the Finess of his Proportion to inimitable Advantage, and over the Whole, in celestial Confusion, were sown Stars, of different Magnitudes, All powdered with Diamonds.
The Moment that
Harry
cast himself into his Posture, Mr.
Dominic
started back seven or eight Paces, and, raising his Hands, with stareing Eyes, and a Mouth of open Amazement, at length he exclaimed; Stay a little, my dear sweet Master! do now, do but stay just as you are for a Minute, and you will oblige me past Expression, I will be your Own for ever.
So saying, he turned off, and running to an adjacent Apartment, where their Majesties, with the Princess of
Denmark,
the Princess of
Hesse,
and the Chief of the Court were gathered; he told his Master aloud, that he had the greatest Curiosity to show him that human Eye ever beheld.
All rose with Precipitation, and crowded after the Earl and the royal Pair, as close as Decency would admit, till they came to the Saloon and beheld, with Astonishment, the Person, Shape, Attitude, and Attire of our Hero.
Some doubted, but Most believed that he was a real Statute, placed there by his Excellency on Purpose for a Surprise. Sir
Fielding,
who was the acknowledged Connoisseur of the Age, and was, in Fact, what the People of taste call an
elegans Formarum Spectator,
exclaimed with some Vehemency, Never, never, did I behold such Beauty of Symmetry, such Roundings of Angles; where, where, my Lord, could you get this inestimable Acquisition? Others cryed,
Phidias, Phidias
never executed the like; all the Works of
Praxiteles
were nothing to it!
The Earl, however, was well apprised of the Deception, and knew that our
Mereury
was no Part of his Property.    Son of
Maia,
said he aloud, what Tidings from Heaven ?    A Message, answered
Harry,
from my Father
Jupiter
to their Majesties  And pray, what may your Errand intend ?    Matters of highest Importance; that they are the favourite Representatives of my Father upon Earth. And that, while their Majesties continue the Monarch of a free and willing People, they are greater than if they were Regents of a Universe of Slaves.    All buzzed their Applause and Admiration.    It must be he, whispered the King  it can be no Other, cried the Queen  
Albemarle,
whispered his Majesty, we have marked this Youth for our Own; keep your Eye upon him, and do your best Endeavours to engage and bind him to us.
In the mean time,
Harry,
on delivering his celestial Message, flew like a Feather from his Post, and casting his Cloak about him, vanished into an adjoining Closet.
The Company now began to gather fast, and
Harry,
stealing from his Retreat, kept his Cloud about his Sky, and mingled in the Crowd. Mr.
Clement
had accompanied Mr.
Fenton
in Dominos. They soon discovered
Harry,
and were highly diverted by the Account which he gave them of his Metamorphosis into a Statue.
While the Assembly was dividing into Pairs and chatty Parties, a Phenomenon entered that drew all their Attention. The Honourable Major
Gromley,
the lustiest and fattest young Man in the Kingdom, advanced without a Mask, in Petticoats, a slobbering Bib and Apron. He carried a large Round of Bread and Butter in one Hand, while Lady
Betsy M
nit,
an elderly Miss of about three Feet high, held his Leading Strings with her Left and, in her Right, brandished a Birch Rod of lengthened Authority. His Governante pressed him forward and seemed to threaten Chastisement for his Delay; while the jolly, broad, foolish, humourous, half laughing, half crying, Baby Face of the Major extorted Peals of Laughter from All who were present. And this is sufficient to convince us that the Performers of the ancient Drama could not possibly, in Masks, excite the Passions of Nature. No Excellence of Voice or Gesture, of Action or Emphasis, could compensate for the Exclusion of the immediate Interpreters of the Soul, the living Speech of the Eye, and varied Expression of the Countenance.
After the Major had leisurely traversed the full length of the Room, and inimitably executed the Whole of his Part, he retired to undress and assume a new Appearance.
Mean while, two Females entered in very unusal Habits. The First was dressed in a choice Collection of old
English
and
Scotch
Ballads, from Chevy Chase and the Fragment of Hardy
Canute,
down to
Barbara Allen
and the Babes in the Wood. The Other was all hung from Top to Bottom with Looking-glasses.
Immediately the Crowd gathered about them. All, who were fond of their own History, preferable to that of Others, paid their Homage, in a circling Throng, to the Queen of the Looking-glasses. While the Few who preferred Instruction were intent in perusing the Fair who was covered with Knowledge. But, the Lady of the Mirrors did not long retain her Votaries; her Glasses were all Emblems of her own Disposition, they were the Glasses of Scandal and Calumny, and represented the human Species in the most distorted View; Some lengthened and Some widened their Objects
Measure, while Others wholly in
and turned them topsy turvy. All
away in Disgust from such Prospects or their own Persons, and the reflecting Lady was justly lest to glitter apart from Society.
The next who entered was a
Goliah,
all sheathed in complete Steel. He advanced with slow and majestic Steps to the Sideboard, and asking for a Flask of Champain, turned it down without taking it once from his Head. He then demanded Another, and Another, and so on, till the Providore, who had looked and longed in vain to see him drop, ran pannic-struck to his Master, and, in a half Whisper, said, my Lord, your Cellars will scarcely suffice to quench the Thirst of one Man here, he has already turned down fifteen Flasks of Champain, and still is unsatisfied and calls for more. Then give him fifteen Hogsheads, replied the Earl laughing, and if that will not answer, send out for another Set.
In the mean time, the mailed Champion had withdrawn from the Sideboard, and, with a large drinking Glass in his Hand, advanced till he got into the midst of the Assembly. He then turned a little Instrument that was fixed in a certain Part of his double cased Armour, and, filling the Glass to the Brim, he unclasped the lower Part of his Bever, and accosting a
Peruvian
Princess who stood just opposite, permit me the Honour, Madam, says he, of drinking your Highness's Health. So saying, the Liquor was out of Sight in a Twinkling. Will your Royal Highness, continued he, be pleased to try how you relish our European Wines? I am obliged to you, Sir, said she, I am actually athirst; then, raising her Mask below, she pledged him to the Bottom. Her Companion, a shining
Arcadian,
advanced and requested the same Favour. Then Another, and another Lady, and several Others in Succession, All of whom he graciously gratified, till he was nearly exhausted. Some of the Men then pressed to him, and entreated for a Glass; no, no, Gentlemen, said he, go and be served elsewhere, I am a Merchant for Ladies alone, I import no Liquors for vile male Animals.
Our former Acquaintance, Mr.
Hardy,
had adventured according to Promise without a Mask. After looking about a while for some Object of his Gallantry, he fixed upon a Lady of a very elegant Shape and sprightly Appearance.
When they had bandied, between them, some occasional Chat, of more Smartness than Humour, and more Wit than Meaning, He called for a favourite Air and led the Fair One a Minuet, in which they Both performed
assez bien.
He now began to grow more warm in his Addresses. If your Face, Madam, said he, should happen to be answerable to the Enchantments of your Form, and the Siren in your Voice, I beseech you to keep that Mask on for ever, the Safety of Mankind is interested in my Request. But suppose, said she, that my Face should happen to prove an Antidote to the Danger of my other Charms? then, Madam, let me see it by all Means, and make haste, I pray you before I am past Remedy. I see, said she, tittering, I see that you are already more than half a dying Man; poor Wretch, I pity you, and have taken it into my Head to slay you outright, in order to put you out of Pain.
So saying, she drew her Mask on one Side, and showed him, indeed, a very lovely Countenance. But while his Flood of complimentary Eloquence was just upon breaking forth, hush, Sir, cried the Lady, I will not hear a Syllable, till you first return the Compliment that I have paid you, and let me see what you have got under that Vizard of yours. Here
Hardy,
in spite of Impudence, stood mute with Astonishment. The Lady burst into a Laugh; the Joke was caught and spread like wild Fire; the Laugh grew universal; all Eyes were on poor
Hardy,
and a hundred Tongues cried, at once, your Mask, Sir, your Mask, take off your Mask for the Lady! This was something more than human Assurance could stand.
Hardy
retired with precipitate Confusion; and justly suffered for the Presumption of his boasted Facility of Conquests over the Fair.
Our Hero had hitherto kept himself concealed, being secretly ashamed of the Lustre of his Apparel; but, at Mr.
Fenton
's desire he laid his Cloak aside, and, instantly, all the Eyes of the Assembly were upon him. In order to avoid their Gaze, he advanced into the Throng, where a Parcel of circling Females asked him a Number of insignificant Questions, to which he returned, in Kind, Answers pretty nearly as insignificant.
At length a
Diana
approached, whose Diamond Crescent was of the Value of a princely Ransom. She took him carelesly by the Hand, and said, come, Brother
Mercury,
let us give these Mortals a Sample of what we Coelestials can perform. Lead where you please, Madam, said
Harry,
I cannot miss my Way while I tread in the Light of so fair a Moon.
The Lady called to the Orchestre for a Saraband, and All made ample Room, attentive to the Motions of the shining Pair.
The Dance began, and the Spectators in a Manner suppressed their Breathing for fear of giving or receiving the smallest Interruption. The Performers stepped Music, their Action was Grace, and they seemed with Difficulty retained to the Floor over which they moved. They ended, and the Assembly was still mute with Astonishment, till they broke out into a general Murmur of Praise.
Mr.
Mercury,
said
Diana,
the Story of
Argus
tells us that you were formerly accustomed to set Folk to sleep; but, for the present, you have opened all Eyes to Observation. Ah, Madam, answered
Harry,
could I have guessed at the Moon that was to shine this Night, I should have assumed a very different Character. What Character, I pray you? that of
Endymion,
Madam. I wish, she whispered, that You were a Prince, or that I were a Peasant, and so saying, she turned from him and mixed in the Crowd.
Harry
was next addressed by a Shepherdess, and again by a Nun. But, he declined, as honourably as he could, to tend the Flock of the One; or to be the Cause of any Breach of Vows in the Other, observing to her, that she had already taken the Veil. The Boy's a FOOL, said she; I know, said
Harry.
A Gipsy then accosted, and taking him by the Hand, will you be pleased, Sir, to be told your Fortune, said she? By no Means, my sweet voiced
Cassandra,
answered
Harry,
I would avoid, above all things, prying into Futurity. Knowledge, Sir, is surely desirable, and above all Foreknowledge. Not so, said
Harry;
Foreknowledge of Evil would but double the Misery; and Foreknowledge of Good would deprive me of Hope by Certainty, and Hope is a Blessing, perhaps, preferable to Possession. Tell me, Sir, and tell me truly, did you ever yet see the Girl that you could like? Yes, Madam, two or three, for whom I have conceived a very tender Friendship, but no One yet for whom I have conceived a Passion. Ah then, Mr.
Mercury,
said the gentle Prophetess, I have only to desire the last Cast of your Office; when I am dead, be so grateful as to waft my friendly Spirit to the Shades of
Elysium,
there to join
Dido
and other unfortunate Lovers.
So saying She turned and retired, with a Sigh, that entered, and sunk into the Heart of our Hero.
The Company now began to depart, when the Earl of
Albemarle,
coming up to
Harry,
took him a little apart, and, throwing his Arm over his Shoulder, pressed him to him and said, my dear Fellow, you have done me signal Honour this Night; pray double the Favour to me, by letting me see you again speedily and as often as you can. For the present, you must not go till their Majesties have spoke with You. Not to Night, so please your Excellency, answered
Harry;
at all other Times, I shall be ready to attend and serve their Majesties, without any Mask.
The next Morning, Mr.
Fenton
was much surprised by a Visit from the great Man; Mr.
Dominic
had apprised his Master where he was to be found. During Breakfast, the Earl pressed eagerly for
Harry
's Attendance at Court, and promised every Advantage and Honour that the Crown could bestow. You must pardon me, my Lord, said Mr.
Fenton.
I am willing to advance to You two hundred thousand Pounds more, toward his Majesties present Expedition against the
French,
whom I look upon to be our natural and salutary Enemies. They are as
Carthage
was to
Rome,
they hold us in Exercise, and keep a quarrelsome People from falling out among themselves. Indeed, my Lord, I am desirous of gratifying my royal Master with any Thing except the Sacrifice of my Child. I cannot part with him till his Education is completed; and then, if he answers my Expectations, I doubt I may be more unwilling to part with him than ever.
In the Afternoon our Company went again to the Tower, to see as well as to hear the recent Story of the great Lion and the little Dog.
They found the Place thronged, and All were obliged to pay treble Prices, on Account of the unprecedented Novelty of the Shew; so that the Keeper, in a short Space, acquired a little Fortune.
The great Cage in the Front was occupied by a Beast who, by Way of preeminence, was called the King's Lion; and, while he traversed the Limits of his straitened Dominions, he was attended by a small and very beautiful black Spaniel, who frisked and gamboled about him, and, at Times, would pretend to snarl, and bite at him; and again the noble Animal, with an Air of fond Complacence, would hold down his Head, while the little Creature licked his formidable Chops. Their History, as the Keeper related, was this:
It was customary for All, who were unable or unwilling to pay their Sixpence, to bring a Dog or Cat as an Oblation to the Beasts in lieu of Money to the Keeper. Among Others, a Fellow had caught up this pretty black Spaniel in the Streets, and he was accordingly thrown into the Cage of the great Lion. Immediately the little Animal trembled and shivered, and crouched and threw itself on its Back, and put forth its Tongue, and held up its Paws, in supplicatory Attitudes, as an Acknowledgment of superior Power and praying for Mercy. In the mean Time the lordly Brute, instead of devouring it, beheld it with an Eye of philosophic Inspection. He turned it over with one Paw, and then turned it with the Other; and smelled to it, and seemed desirous of courting a further Acquaintance.
The Keeper, on seeing this, brought a large Mess of his own Family-Dinner; but the Lion kept aloof and refused to eat, keeping his Eye on the Dog, and inviting him as it were to be his Taster. At length, the little Animal's Fears being something abated, and his Appetite quickened by the Smell of the Victuals, he approached slowly, and, with trembling, ventured to eat. The Lion then advanced gently, and began to partake, and they finished their Meal very lovingly together.
From this Day the strictest Friendship commenced between them, a Friendship consisting of all possible Affection and Tenderness on the Part of the Lion, and of the utmost Confidence and Boldness on the Part of the Dog; insomuch that he would lay himself down to sleep, within the Fangs and under the Jaws of his terrible Patron.
A Gentleman, who had lost the Spaniel, and had advertised a Reward of two Guineas to the Finder, at length heard of the Adventure, and went to reclaim his Dog. You see, Sir, said the Keeper, it would be a great Pity to part such loving Friends. However, if you insist upon your Property, you must even be pleased to take him yourself; it is a Task that I would not engage in for five hundred Guineas. The Gentleman rose into great Wrath, but finally chose to acquiesce, rather than have a personal Dispute with the Lion.
As Mr.
Fenton
had a Curiosity to see the two Friends eat together, he sent for twenty Pounds of boiled Beef, which was accordingly cut in Pieces and given into the Cage; when, immediately, the little Brute, whose Appetite happened to be eager art the time, was desirous of making a Monopoly of the whole, and putting his Paws upon the Meat, and grumbling and barking, he audaciously flew in the Face of the Lion. But the generous Creature, instead of being offended by his impotent Companion, started back and seemed terrified at the Fury of his Attack, neither attempted to eat a Bit, till his Favourite had tacitly given Permission.
When they were Both gorged, the Lion stretched and turned himself and lay down in an evident Posture for Repose, but this his sportive Companion would not admit. He frisked and gamboled about him, barked at him, would now scrape and tear at his Head with his Claws, and again seize him by the Ear, and bite and pull away; while the noble Beast appeared affected by no other Sentiment save that of Pleasure and Complacence.
But, let us proceed to the tragic Catastrophe of this extraordinary Story; a Story still known to Many, as delivered down by Tradition from Father to Son.
In about twelve Months, the little Spaniel sickened and died, and left his loving Patron the most desolate of Creatures. For a time, the Lion did not appear to conceive otherwise than that his Favourite was asleep. He would continue to smell to him, and then would stir him with his Nose, and turn him over with his Paw; but, finding that all his Efforts to awake him were vain, he would traverse his Cage from End to End at a swift and uneasy Pace, then stop, and look down upon him with a fixed and drooping Regard; and again lift his Head on high, and open his horrible Throat, and prolong a Roar, as of distant Thunder, for several Minutes together.
They attempted, but in vain, to convey the Carcass from him, he watched it perpetually, and would suffer nothing to touch it. The Keeper then endeavoured to tempt him with a Variety of Victuals, but he turned from all that was offered with loathing. They then put several living Dogs into his Cage, and these he instantly tore piecemeal, but left their Members on the Floor. His Passions being thus inflamed, he would dart his Fangs into the Boards and pluck away large Splinters, and again grapple at the Bars of his Cage, and seem enraged at his Restraint from tearing the World to Pieces.
Again, as quite spent, he would stretch himself by the Remains of his beloved Associate, and gather him in with his Paws, and put him to his Bosom; and then utter under Roars of such a terrible Melancholy, as seemed to threaten All around, for the Loss of his little Playfellow, the only Friend, the only Companion that he had upon Earth.
For five Days he thus languished, and gradually declined, without taking any Sustenance, or admitting any Comfort; till one Morning, he was found dead, with his Head lovingly reclined on the Carcass of his little Friend. They were Both interred together, and their Grave plentifully watered by the Tears of the Keeper and his loudly lamenting Family.    But, to return.
When our Company were on their Way from the Tower to their Lodgings, Sir, said
Harry,
what we have just seen reminds me of the Opinion of my Friend
Peter Patience,
that One who is fearless cannot be provoked. You saw how that little teasing, petulant Wretch had the Insolence to fly in the Face of his Benefactor, without offending or exciting in him any Kind of Resentment. True,
Harry,
for the Lion was sensible that his testy Companion was little, and impotent, and depended upon him, and had Confidence in his Clemency, and therefore he loved him with all his Faults. Anger, however, in some Cases, is not only allowable but becomes a Duty. The Scripture says,
be angry but sin not.
We ought to feel and fear for Others; and Lust, Violence, and Oppression of every Sort, will excite the Indignation of a generous and benevolent Person, though he may not fear for himself.
After Supper,
Harry
appeared to ruminate, and said, How comes it, Sir, that Creatures, not indued with Reason or Conscience, shall yet, in the Affections that are peculiarly called humane, exceed even most of the human Species? You have seen that it was the Case between the Lion and little Dog.
It was the Opinion, my
Harry,
of an ancient Philosopher, that God was the Soul and Spirit of Brutes; and this he judged from observing that what we call Instinct, was incomparably wiser, more sagacious, and more accomplished for attaining its Ends, throughout its Sphere of Action, than the most perfect human Reason. Now, had this Philosopher, instead of saying that God was the Soul of Brutes, barely alleged that he ruled and dictated within them, he would not have gone a Tittle wide of the Truth.
God indeed is, himself, the Beauty and the Benefit of all his Works. As they cannot exist but in him and by him, so his Impression is upon them, and his Impregnation is through them.
Though the Elements, and all that we know of Nature and Creature, have a Mixture of natural and physical Evil; God is, however, throughout, an internal, though often, a hidden Principal of Good, and never wholly departs from his Right of Dominion and Operation in his Creatures: But is, and is alone, the Beauty and Beneficence, the whole Glory and Graciousness that can possibly be in them.
As the Apostle says,
the invisible Things of God are made manifest and visible by the Things that are seen.
He is the secret and central Light that kindles up the Sun, his dazzling Representative; and he lives, enlightens, and comforts in the Diffusion of his Beams.
His Spirit inspires and actuates the Air; and is, in it, a Breath of Life to all his Creatures. He blooms in the Blossom, and unfolds in the Rose. He is Fragrance in Flowers, and Flavour in Fruits. He holds Infinitude within a Speck, and opens his World of Wonders in the Minims of Nature. He is the Virtue of every Heart that is softened by a Sense of Pity or Touch of Benevolence. He coos in the Turtle, and bleats in the Lamb; and, through the Paps of the stern Bear and implacable Tigress, he yields forth the Milk of loving Kindness to their little Ones. Even, my
Harry,
when we hear the delicious Enchantment of Music; it is but an external Sketch, a distant and faint Echo of those sentimental and rapturous Tunings that rise up, throughout the Immensity of our God, from Eternity to Eternity.
Thus all Things are secretly pregnant with their God. And the Lover of Sinners, the universal Redeemer, is a Principle of Good within them, that contends with the Malignity of their lapsed State. And thus, as the Apostle speaks,
all Nature is in Travail and groaneth to be delivered from the Evil.
'Till the Breath of the Love of God shall kindle up the final Fire, out of which the new Heavens and new Earth shall come forth, as Gold seven times refined, to shine for ever and ever!
HARRY, agreeable to his Covenant with Signor
Volanti,
had penned the following Advertisement, and inserted it in all the public Papers, to wit.    
On
Saturday
next, between the Hours of Ten and Twelve in the Forenoon, the celebrated
Dominico Jachimo Tonino Volanti
will take his Flight from the Spire of
Clement
's Steeple, and alight, at the Distance of two Bows shot, on the
Strand,
and this he will perform before the Eyes of all People.
On the impatiently expected Morning,
Harry
took Mr.
Clement
with him in a hack Chaise, and found an innumerable Concourse, as well of the Gentry in their Coaches, as of the Populace on Foot.
London
had poured forth its Numbers to behold this astonishing Flight. The Windows were all Eyes on every Side, and the House Tops were hung with Clusters of People as of Bees.
After
Harry
had surveyed the Crowd, with inward Titillation, he whispered to
Clement
and said, You shall see now, what a sudden Discomfiture I will make of this huge Army.
He then put forth his Head, and said to All around, Don't Ye yet perceive, my Friends, what Fools we are all made, don't ye remember that this is the
First of April?
He had scarce spoke the Words, when they spread from Man to Man, and soon were muttered throughout the Assembly. And then louder, and more loud, the
First of April,
the
First of April,
was repeated all about.
The Company now began to be in Motion. All Heads were instantly withdrawn from the late thronged Windows, and the House Tops began to be cleared with a shameful Caution.
Immediately was heard the rolling of many Wheels, and the Lashing of many Whips, while every Coachman pressed through the Crowd, impatient to deliver his honourable Freight from the public Shame. But the Populace, now, began to relish a Joke that was so much against their Betters; and, in Peals of Laughter, and united Shouts of Triumph, they echoed and reechoed after them,
April Fools! April Fools!
Among Others, Lord
Bottom
had come with his Friend
Rakely,
in an elevated Phaeton, of which his Lordship was Charioteer. As they happened to brush close by
Harry
's Carriage, swearing, and puffing, and lashing, and cursing at the Crowd,
Harry
cried to his old Enemy, you need not be in so violent a Hurry, my Lord, perhaps you are not so great a Foot as you imagine.
The Fools of Fashion were scarce withdrawn, when a long and strong Rope was let down from the Top of the Steeple, to which it was fastened at the upper End. A Man then, laying hold on it below, dragged it along through the Crowd, and braced it, at a great Distance, to an Iron Ring that was stapled into a Post, purposely sunk on a level with the Pavement. They then brought a large and well stuffed Feather Bed, and fixed it under the Cord where it joined the Ring.
In the mean time,
Volanti
appeared on the Top of the Steeple, and bending cautiously forward, and getting the Cord within an Iron Groove that was braced to his Bosom, he pushed himself onward, and, with a kindling Rapidity, flew over the Heads of the shouting Multitude, poising himself with expanded Legs and Arms, as he passed, till he was landed, without Damage, on his yielding Receiver. And, in the very next Papers,
Harry
published the following Advertisement, to wit.
Before the First of
April
next, Signor
Dominico Jachimo Tonino Volanti,
by the Help of Canvas Wings, contrived for the Purpose, proposes to fly over Sea, from
Dover
to
Calais,
and invites all his
London
Friends to come and see him set out.
On the Evening of the following
Monday,
our Company went to the King's Theatre, and Mr.
Clement
told Mr.
Fenton,
by the Way, how
Harry
had made double Fools of the Citizens, first in bringing them together, and then in sending them away.
The Moor of
Venice
was the appointed Entertainment for the Night. Mr.
Montfort
was to perform the Part of
Othello,
Mrs.
Montfort
that of
Emilia,
and Miss
Bracegirdle,
their young Ward, the Part of
Desdemona.
All was carried on to the Satisfaction of the Audience, till they were somewhat advanced in the Fourth Act, when Lord
Mohun
(as
Milton
has it) flown with Insolence and Wine, entered and seated himself in one of the Stage-Boxes.
He gave his whole Attention and Applause to the fair
Desdemona,
and, as soon as the Act was over, he slipped behind the Scenes, and began to address her in a Strain of licentious Gallantry. But, as Miss
Bracegirdle
answered him with a cold Kind of Disdain, his Nobility was piqued, and, catching her about the Neck, he thrust his Hand into her Bosom.
The Girl instantly shrieked, and
Montfort
coming up, forbear, my Lord, said he, the young Gentlewoman is virtuous and of good Education, and such Treatment is unbeseeming a Man of Honour. Virtue and Education among Actors and Actresses! exclaimed his Lordship, hence, vile Plebeian, and know your Distance better. And, so saying, he proceeded to an Action of still greater Indecency.
The unhappy
Montfort
then cried, I will not suffer such Usage from any Man under the Crown; I am her Guardian, it is my Duty to protect her, and, at the same Time, he pushed away his Lordship with some Violence. A Blow, a Blow, cried
Mohun,
and from a Vagabond too, Wretch, take the instant Chastisement of your Insolence. Then springing back, he suddenly plucked out his Sword, and ran the worthy
Montfort
through the Body, who immediately dropped and expired on the Spot.
The Women instantly uttered Shriek after Shriek, and, falling on the Body, sent forth repeated Cries of the bitterest Lamentation. The Audience were then in an Uproar, and called aloud to know the Meaning of the Disturbance: when an Actor hastily advanced to the Front of the Stage, and, with wringing Hands, informed them of what had happened.
Our Hero, thereupon, started up, and putting one Hand between the Spikes, he vaulted high over them into the Stage, and, drawing out his Sword, he ran about, searching for and enquiring after the Murderer; as did some other Gentlemen who hastened round for the Purpose. But Lord
Mohun,
for the present, had made his Escape. And, though he was afterwards indicted, the Great Ones contrived Means for quashing the Affair, and he was never brought to Trial.
The Blood of the Good
Montfort,
however, was not long unatoned. Lord
Mohun,
shortly after, fell by the Hand of the Duke of
Hamilton,
in a Duel behind
Montague
House.
Harry
had now seen whatever
London
could exhibit of elegant, curious, or pleasing; and Mr.
Fenton
judged it Time to hold up to him the melancholy Reverse of this Picture, to show him the
House of Mourning
the
End of all Men;
to show him the dreary Shades and frightful Passages of Mortality, which Humanity shudders to think of, but through which human Nature, of Necessity, must go.
For this Purpose, he took him to the GENERAL HOSPITAL, where Death opened all his Gates, and showed himself in all his Forms. But, the great Poet, on this Occasion, hath anticipated all Description.
--Immediately a Place
Before his Eyes appeared --sad, noisome, dark.
A Lazar-house it seemed, wherein were laid
Numbers of all Diseased, all Maladies
Of ghastly Spasm, of racking Torture, Qualms,
Of heart-sick Agony --all feverous Kinds,
Convulsions, Epilepsies, fierce Catarrhs,
Intestine Stone and Ulcer; Colic Pangs,
Demoniac Frenzy, moping Melancholy,
And Moon struck Madness; pining Atrophy,
Dropsies, and Asthmas, and joint-racking Rheums.
Dire was the tossing, deep the Groans --Despair
Tended the Sick, busiest from Couch to Couch,
And over them triumphant, Death his Dart
Shook, but delayed to strike, though oft invoked
With Vows, as their chief Good.
MILTON.
While Mr.
Fenton
led his Pupil, through groaning Galleries and the Chambers of Death and Disease,
Harry
let down the Leaf of his Hat, and drew it over his Eyes, to conceal his Emotions. All that Day he was silent, and his Countenance downcast; and, at Night, he hastened to Bed, where he wept a large Tribute to the mournfully inevitable Condition of Man's miserable State upon Earth.
The next Day, Mr.
Fenton
took him to the Bethlehem Hospital for Idiots and Lunatics. But when
Harry
beheld and contemplated Objects, so shocking to Thought, so terrible to Sight; when he had contemplated, I say, the Ruin above all Ruins, human Intelligence and human Reason so fearfully overthrown; where the Ideas of the Soul, though distorted and misplaced, are quick and all alive to Horror and Agony; he grew sick and turned pale, and, suddenly catching his Uncle by the Arm, come, Sir, let us go, said he, I can stand this no longer.
When they had reached Home, and that
Harry
was more composed; Are all the Miseries, Sir, said he, that we have witnessed these two Days, the Consequences of Sin? Even so, indeed, my
Harry,
all these and Thousands more, equally pitiable and disgusting, are the natural Progeny of that Woe-begetting Parent. Nor are those Miseries confined to Hospitals alone; every House, nay every Bosom is a certain though secret Lazar-house, where the sick Couch is preparing, with all the dismal Apparatus, for Tears and Lamentations, for Agonies and Death.
Since that is the Case, Sir, who would laugh any more; is it not like Feasting in the Midst of Famine, and Dancing amid the Tombs?
All Things in their Season, my Dear, provided that those who laugh be as though they laughed not, remembering that they must weep. And provided that those who weep be as though they wept not, having Joy in their Knowledge that the Fashion of this World quickly passeth away.
On the following Day, Mr.
Fenton
returned to
Hamstead,
but left three thousand Pounds with
Harry
and Mr.
Clement,
to be disposed of, at their Discretion, among the Poor of the several Parishes of
London
and
Westminster.
For this beneficent Purpose, they applied to the Clergy and Churchwardens of the respective Parishes, but did not wholly trust to their Recommendation. They witnessed in Person the Merits of the several Objects. After the Example of their divine Master,
they went about doing Good;
changing the Face of Affliction into Cheer; turning the Voice of Mourning into Songs of Thanksgiving; lightening every Burden, supplying every Want, and binding up the broken of Heart.
One Evening, as our Companions were drinking Tea in the Temple-Exchange Coffee-House, a Man, advanced in Years, but of a very respectable Appearance, got up and addressed the Assembly.
Gentlemen, said he, among the several Hospitals and other charitable Foundations that have done Honour to the Humanity of the Inhabitants of this City, there is one still wanting, which, as I conceive, above all others, would give Distinction to the Beneficence of its Founders; it is a House for repenting Prostitutes, an Assylum for unhappy Wretches who have no other Home, to whom all Doors are shut, to whom no Haven is open, no Habitation, or Hole for Rest upon the Face of the Earth.
Most of them have been seduced from native Innocence and Modesty by the Arts of cruel Men. Many have been deceived under Promise and Vows of Marriage; some, under the Appearance of the actual Ceremony, and afterwards abandoned, or turned forth to Infamy by their barbarous and base Undoers. Shall no Place then be left for Repentance even to those who do repent? forbid it Charity, forbid it Manhood. Man is born the natural Protector of the Weakness of Woman, and if he has not been able to guard her Innocence from Invasion, he ought at least to provide a Reception for her Return to Virtue.
I have the Plan of this charitable Foundation in my Pocket; and, if any of you, Gentlemen, approve my Proposal, and are willing to subscribe, or to solicit your Friends to so beneficent a Purpose, I request your Company to the Leg Tavern over the Way.
Here, the Speaker walked toward the Door, and was followed by
Harry
and
Clement,
and thirteen or fourteen more of the Assembly.
When a Flask of Port was brought, and the Company seated round a large Table; the Gentleman produced his Plan, with a Summary of the Rules and Institutes for the Conduct of the House, which he proposed to call the
Magdalen-House.
A Plan which hath since been espoused, and happily executed by others, without ascribing any of the Merit to the first Projector.
As all present applauded the Manner of the Scheme, and Intention of the Charity, each of them subscribed from a hundred to twenty Pounds, till it came to
Harry
's Turn, who subscribed a thousand Pounds in Mr.
Fenton
's Name.
I suppose, Sir, said one of the Company, that your largest Contributions will arise from the Ladies, as the Whole is intended for the Benefit of the Sex. I shall not, answered the Gentleman, apply to a single Lady on this Occasion. Not one of them will dare to contribute a Penny, lest it should be thought that they partly allow, in themselves, the Vices that they can pardon or patronize in others. It is this that makes the Case of the Wretches, whom we are about to befriend, deplorable beyond Measure. They are first betrayed by our Sex, and then driven out to irretrievable Infamy and Misery by their own. For Women to Women, are as Turkeys to Turkeys, do but cast a little Dirt upon the Head of any one of them, and the rest of the Flock combine, in an Instant, to pick out her Eyes and to tear her to Pieces.
Mr.
Mole,
a learned Philosopher, and a Man of principal Figure in the present Company, then addressed the Projector and said, if you will admit me, Sir, into Partnership in the Conduct of your Scheme, I will engage to levy Contributions to the amount of some Thousands, over and above the Hundred I have already subscribed. You are heartily welcome, Sir, replied the Gentleman, either to join or take the Conduct of the Whole upon yourself. Provided the Good is done, I care not by what Means, all my Ends will be answered, I wish to be nameless. That is not fair neither, said another of the Company; you, Mr.
Goodville,
had the Trouble of contriving this Business, and you ought, at least, to have the Honour, if not the Conduct of your own Plan.
Mr.
Goodville,
Mr.
Goodville!
exclaimed
Clement
in a Surprise, eagerly staring at him, and recollecting, as from a Dream, the altered Features of his quondam Friend and Benefactor. Pray, Sir, do you remember any thing of one
Clement,
a worthless young Fellow, whom once in your Goodness you condescended to patronize?
Clement, Clement!
cried Mr.
Goodville,
getting up and hastening to him, and catching him in his Arms, my dear, my dear
Clement,
my Man of Merit and Misfortunes, how rejoiced am I to find you! God be praised, God be praised, it is at length in my Power to do something material for You. But, come with me to another Room, I have something to say to You. We will leave these Gentlemen, the while, to think further of the Plan that lies before them.
When Mr.
Goodville
and
Clement
had withdrawn, Mr.
Mole,
said one of the Company, you are concerned in a Number of these public Benefactions. Yes, Gentlemen, answered
Mole,
I believe there is no charitable Institution of any Note in
London,
in which I am not a Trustee, and to which I am not a Contributor. For, though I do not set up for Sanctification by Faith, yet, I think, I may pretend to some Justification by Charity. Let the vulgar Herd pay their Priesthood for cheating them out of their Senses, I give nothing to the fat Impostors, or their lucrative Fable; my Substance is little enough for myself and the Poor. Why, pray Sir, said
Harry,
are you not a Christian? No indeed, Master, answered
Mole,
nor any Man who has Sense enough to think for himself. Be pleased then, cried
Harry,
to hand me that Paper a Moment; here, Sir, I dash my Name and Contribution from the List of the Subscribers. He, who denies
Glory to God in the highest,
can never have
Peace or good Will toward Men,
and so, Sir, you shall never be the Almoner of a Penny of my Money.
You talk as you look, my Dear, cried
Mole,
like One just eloped from the Nursery, where you were frightened by Tales of Ghosts and Hobgoblins. I acknowledge, Gentlemen, the Benefit and Beauty of Morality in its fullest Extent; and, had
Jesus,
the Christian Prophet, confined himself to his System of moral Precepts, I think he would justly have been esteemed the greatest Philosopher and Legislator that ever breathed. But, when he, or rather his Disciples, in his Name, in order to enhance the Authority of their Mission, pretended to Divinity in their Master, the low bred and ignorant Wretches pulled together, against the Grain, and compounded such a strange Medley of fighting Inconsistencies, and self-evident Absurdities, as are wholly evasive of every Principle of right Reason and common Sense. They taught that God was made a Man; that, in order to expiate the Sins of the World, the Innocent was appointed to suffer for the Guilty. That the Sins of all Offenders were to be imputed to One who had never offended; and that the Righteousness of him, who had never offended, was to be imputed to Criminals of the deepest Dye. That the Creator submitted himself to the Malignity of his Creatures, and that God himself died a shameful Death on the Cross. And this, Gentlemen, makes such a Heap of ridiculous Incoherencies, such Contradictions in Sense and Terms, as exceeds even the Worship of Apes and Serpents, Leeks and Onions, and the other Garbage of
Egypt.
You are a Villain, and a Thief, and a Liar, cried
Harry,
altogether enflamed with Choler.
Mole,
on hearing these Terms of highest Affront and Reproach, instantly caught up a Bottle and threw it at our Hero's Head, but it happily missed him, and only bruised the fleshy Part of the Shoulder of the Gentleman who sat next.
Harry
instantly sprung up and made at
Mole,
while the Company rose also and attempted to interfere; but some he cast on one Hand, and some on the Other, and overturning such as directly opposed him, he reached
Mole,
and, with one Blow of his Fist on the Temple, laid him motionless along the Floor. Then looking down on his Adversary, I should be sorry, said he, that the Wretch would die in his present State of Reprobacy; here, Drawer, run quickly and bring me a Surgeon. Then returning to his Place, he sat down with great Composure.
After a Pause he looked around. I hope, Gentlemen, said he, that none of You are hurt. Indeed I am much concerned for having, in any Degree, contributed to your Disturbance. But, had any of You a dear Benefactor and Patron, to whom you were bound beyond Measure, whom you loved and honoured above all Things, could ye bear to hear him defamed and vilified to your Face? No certainly, answered One; no Man could bear it, cried Another; but pray, asked a Third, how came you to call the Gentleman a Thief ?    Because, replied our Hero, he attempted to rob me of my whole Estate. He endeavoured to thieve from me the only Friend I had in the Universe, the Friend of my Heart, the Peace and Rest of my Bosom; my infinite Treasure, my never ending Delight! the Friend without whom I would not choose to be; without whom, Existence would become a Curse and an Abhorrence unto me. Happy young Creature! exclaimed an elderly Gentleman, I understand you, you mean your Christ and my Christ, the Friend who has already opened his early Heaven within You.
By this, Mr.
Mole
began to move, whereupon
Harry
rose and, putting his Hand in his Pocket, here, Gentlemen, said he, is one Guinea for the Surgeon and another for the Reckoning. When my Companion returns, be pleased to tell him I am gone to our Lodgings. For I will not stay to hold further Converse or Altercation with that Bane of Society, that Pest, which the Rulers in Darkness have commissioned to spread Contagion, Distemper and Death among Men.
Harry
went early to Bed, but lay restless and much disturbed in his Spirit all Night. Mr.
Clement
had heard the Particulars of our Hero's Behaviour, which he partly disapproved; but, as he saw him already dejected, he did not choose to expostulate with him for the present.
The next Day they returned to
Hamstead,
where Mr.
Fenton,
notwithstanding the constrained Smiles of his
Harry,
observed an unusual Cloud and Uneasiness in his Countenance. I want to speak with You, my Love, said he; and beckoning him into his Closet, he took him affectionately by the Hand and made him sit beside him. What is the Matter, my Dear, said he, looking concernedly in his Face, what is it that has disturbed the Peace of the Bosom of my Beloved?
Ah! Sir, cried
Harry,
I am, indeed, very unhappy. I doubt that I am partly losing my Faith, and the Fear of that has given me inexpressible Horror. It is like tearing me from a Fort, out of which there is no Home or Rest for me in the Universe.
Here
Harry
made a Recital of the late Affair to his Patron, and having closed his Narrative, is not this very wonderful, Sir, said he, how or where in the World could this
Mole
have mustered together such Arguments against Reason, such Appearances against Truth? How must the Vulgar and Illiterate be staggered by such Objections; when, even I, who have been bred, as I may say, at the Feet of such a
Gamaliel,
have not been able to answer them, otherwise than by the Chastisement which the Blasphemer received at my Hand.
Here Mr.
Fenton
smiled and said, don't be alarmed, my Love. We shall quickly dispel the thin Mists of Infidelity that were collected to shut the Sun of Righteousness from your Eye. I confess, indeed, that this Spawn of Antichrist has compiled a Summary of All that has ever been uttered, against
the Lamb who was slain from the Foundation of the Word;
yet he is but a
Mole
in Nature as well as Name; and he, with his Brother-Moles, know no more and see no further than the little Heap of Dirt and Rubbish, that the working of their own purblind and floundering Reason hath cast about them.
Sacred Depths and stupendous Mysteries belong to this Matter, and when you are able to bear them, they shall be clearly and fully unfolded to you, my
Harry:
In the mean Space, a few simple Observations will suffice to re-establish the Peace of your sweet and pious Heart.
As Christianity was instituted for the Salvation of the Vulgar, the principal Truths thereof are very obvious and plain, and want no Learning, no Letters, to inculcate or teach them. They speak the Language of Nature, and all Nature is expressive of the Sense and the Sound thereof. Whatever is within you, whatever is without you, cries aloud for a Saviour. For Sin hath been as the
Mezentius,
of whom you read in
Virgil,
who bound the Bodies of the Dead to the Persons of the Living. Thus it is that the Sin of fallen Angels, and of fallen Man, hath bound Change and Corruption, Distemperature and Death, to the Elements, to the Vegetables, to Animals, and even to the immortal Image of God himself in the Humanity; so that all Things cry out, with the Apostle Saint
Paul, who shall deliver me from the Body of this Death?
So that all Things cry out, with the Apostle Saint
Peter, save Lord, or I perish!
These are inevitable Truths, my
Harry,
which all Men, at some time, must feel throughout their Existence, whether they read them or not. And he alone who never experienced nor ever shall experience Frailty, Error, or Sickness, Pain, Anguish, or Dissolution, is exempt from our Solar System of Salvation from Sin.
But, what Sort of a Saviour is it, for whom all Things cry so loudly? Is it a dry Moralist, a Legislator of bare and external Precepts, such as your Mole-Philosopher required our
Christ
to be? No, my Darling, no. The Influence and Existence of the Redeemer of Nature must, at least, be as extensive as Nature herself.
Things are defiled and corrupted throughout, they are distempered and devoted to Death from the inmost Essence of their Being; and nothing, under him, in whom they live and move and have their Being, can redeem, can restore them.
O Sir, exclaimed
Harry,
his Countenance brightening up, why could I not think of this? I should then have been able to foil my malignant Adversary, even at his own Weapons.
Our
Jesus
himself, continued Mr.
Fenton,
appeals to the Truth I have told you, where he says to the Sick of the Palsy, Son, be of good cheer, thy Sins are forgiven thee. But, when the Pharisees, thereupon, concluded that he blasphemed; he demonstrated his Influence in and over the Soul, by the sensible Evidence of his Operation and Influence in and over the Body. What reason ye in your Hearts? said
Jesus;
whether is it easier to say thy Sins be forgiven thee, or to say, rise up and walk? Then said he to the Sick of the Palsy, arise and take up thy Couch, and go to thine House. And immediately he rose up before them, and took up that whereon he had been carried, and departed to his own House, glorifying God.
Here it was necessary, for the performance of this wonderful and instantaneous Cure, that
Jesus
should instantly operate in and through every Member, Nerve, and Fibre of the Sick of the Palsy. And it was equally necessary, for that Purpose, that the Sick of the Palsy should have lived, and have had his Being in
Jesus.
In like Manner, also, his Sins, must have been pardoned, by an inward Salvation, by imparting to the Will of the Sinner a new and rectified Will; and by informing his Spirit with a Detestation of Evil and a Love of Goodness and Virtue.
But, pray Sir, if it is not too profound a Mystery for me, be pleased to inform me, how God could be made Man? for this was one of the principal Objections of
Mole.
God was never made Man, my
Harry.
God cannot be debased. He could not degrade himself by any Change into Manhood, though he could exalt and assume Humanity into God. Neither could God die or suffer. To this, Christ himself, who was God and Man, bears Testimony; where he cries out, in the Agonies of his suffering Humanity,
my God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
And again, where, crying with a loud Voice, he said,
Father, into thy Hands I commend my Spirit.
  But, you are leading me something deeper than I chose to go, for the present.
From Eternity, God saw that, should he produce any Creatures in his own Image, to be glorious by his Likeness and happy by his Communication, he must of Necessity create them intelligent and free; and that consequently; as Creatures, they must be finite; and that, as Creatures who were free, they should also be fallible.
He, therefore, saw that all might fall, and he also foresaw that some would fall. But his Graciousness had provided
two infallible Remedies
for this Evil of Fallibility. He had provided a
Saviour,
and he had also provided
Suffering.
The
Saviour
was to restore them by an inward Redemption, by a Reinfusion and new Birth of his own Nature in their Essence. And
Suffering
was to prepare and open his Way, by humbling their Pride, by mortifying their Lust, and thus compelling them to unfold their Hearts to their own Happiness.
Indeed, had no Creature ever fallen, God could not have been duly glorified to all Eternity. Millions of his infinitely amiable Qualities must have lain an inscrutable Secret to Worlds upon Worlds. While all his Creatures were happy in him, and participated of him, no Distinction could be duly made between them and their Creator. Had Evil never been, Goodness would have sunk unspeakably in the Sense of its Value, which is now infinitely heightened and glorified by the Contrast. Free Grace and free Mercy on the Part of our God, and Penitence and Thanksgiving on the Part of humbled Sinners, would have been prevented of their thousand endearing Connections. And all the Amities and Charities, throughout the Brotherhood of Man; all the melting and fond Relations, which the Vine-Christ infuses throughout his engrafted Branches, bearing Blossoms and Fruits of divine Fragrance and Flavour, must ever have remained, unblessing and as dead, from Eternity to Eternity.
But, our God, my Child, is as powerful, as he is gracious and wise, to bring Light out of Darkness, and Life out of Death, and infinite and ever enduring Good out of the limited and short State of transitory Evil.
To prove that no Being, beneath himself, could stand of their own Sufficiency, God permitted his two principal Creatures, the most immediate and most glorious Representatives of his divine Perfections, to fall off from their Allegiance, and consequently from their Happiness, with all their Progeny. The first was the Angel
Lucifer
who fell through
Pride,
and the second was the Man
Adam
who fell through
Lust.
These two capital Sins of
Pride
and of
Lust
are the genuine Parents of all moral and natural Evil, of all the Guilt and Misery that ever did or ever can arise throughout Duration; and our heavenly Father, in his Love, hath appointed intense Suffering, to abate and abase the
one,
and to mortify and slay the
other,
that Transgressors may finally be capable of his Mercy, through the Salvation and Grace of his Christ.
The first of these Arch-felons deemed himself worthy of Deity, and, being unexperienced in the Power with whom he had to contend, he attempted to arrogate all Worship to himself, and to rob his divine Benefactor of Glory and Godhead.
The second of these Felons was tempted, by the first, to aspire, through his own Merits, at a godlike Independence; to cast off his Allegiance to the Author of his Being; and to expect. Intelligence and Knowledge from the sensual Fruits of this World, after which he lusted. He accordingly took and eat of the Tree that was pregnant with all the Goods and all the Evils of this external, elementary, and transient System,
according to his Faith it was done unto him;
according to his Lust his Desire was accomplished; his Nature became a Partaker of temporary Nature; and he fell, with his Progeny, into all the Depravity and Evils, that the Sin of fallen
Lucifer
had introduced into these vast Regions; now made more exceedingly corrupt and sinful by the Sin of fallen
Adam.
Why, pray Sir, demanded
Harry,
had
Lucifer
any Concern in this World, before the Fall of our first Parents?
Yes, my Dear, all the Space, that is now occupied by this Earth, and these Elements with the Sun, Moon and Stars, to an inconceivable Extent; was once the Heaven and Dominion of
Lucifer
and his Angels. But when, by their Apostasy from the Light and Love and Goodness of God, they had caused Darkness and Malignity, Envy, Rage, and Uproar, and every Species of Evil and Horror, to be predominant throughout their Kingdom; God determined, by a new Creation, to take it out of their Hands. Accordingly, he compacted it into the present System of temporary Nature, whose Duration is to be measured by the Revolution of our Luminaries, until the appointed Period of the great Consummation, when all the Malignity that remains, and is compacted therein, shall be finally done away.
To this Truth
Moses
bears Testimony, where he tells you that, at the Commencement of Creation, Darkness was upon the Face of the great Deep. And again, where he tells you, that the Tree of the Knowledge of the Goods and Evils of this World sprung up, even in the Midst of the Paradise of God. But it is altogether impious and blasphemous to suppose, that God would create Evil, or infuse a Tendency thereto into any of his Works. Again, the same Truth is attested by many Passages of the sacred Writings; where
Lucifer,
or Satan, tells Christ, to his Face, that this World, with all its Glories, are his Portion and Property, that they were delivered unto him, and that he giveth them to whomsoever he will. And again, where Christ calls him the Prince of the Air; and again, where he says
the Prince of this World cometh and hath no Part in me.
Now, when God, by his new Creation, had delivered this System of Things from the Influence and Dominion of evil Spirits, they became altogether Prisoners in their own Darkness. But when
Adam,
the second Lord of this vast Domain, by a second Apostasy, had brought additional Sin and Evil into temporary Nature, the Paradise of God, that was over all, vanished; and the new Guilt of
Adam
opened a new and wide Gate, for the Re-admission of
Lucifer
into his ancient Possessions. And he remains a Prince and a Ruler in the Elements and Hearts of Men unto this evil Day.
These two capital Apostates,
Lucifer
and
Adam,
who had thus robbed their kind God of their Affections and Allegiance, were thereafter represented by the two Thieves who suffered in Company with Christ who reached out to them a bleeding Arm of his Mercy on either Hand. The One accepted his Grace and, on that Day, entered Paradise along with his Lord. The Other rejected the Christ with Contempt and Reproach, and therefore, if ever reclaimable, must be constrained by Suffering to open his Heart to Redemption; when after a Process of many many agonizing Ages, blaspheming and indignantly spurning at the Power of his Punisher, he may be compelled to cry out, O Seed of the Woman! heal, heal the Head thou hast crushed, and admit me also, though last, to some Part, the least Portion of thy pardoning Salvation!
These Two, my
Harry,
even
Lucifer
and
Adam,
were also the Thieves among whom the Traveller fell, going from
Jerusalem
to
Jericho,
from the City and Place of Peace to the Place of Destruction. He represented the wretched Race of fallen Man, whom
Lucifer
and their first Father had robbed of all their Substance, and stripped of their Robe of Righteousness, and wounded, and left half dead in Trespasses and Sins. Neither did the Law or the Priesthood avail any Thing for their Cure till JESUS the GOOD SAMARITAN had Compassion upon them, and bound up their Wounds, pouring therein the Oil of his Grace and the Wine of his Gladness; and expended two Pence, even the two precious Pence of his own Body and Blood for perfecting their Recovery.
But, my dearest Sir, said
Harry,
if my Question does not intrude, pray how was it consistent with Justice that the Sufferings of the Innocent should atone both for, and instead of, the Guilty? For this also was one of
Mole
's cardinal Objections.
Your Question, said Mr.
Fenton,
falls aptly in its Place. When
Adam,
as I have told you, apostatized from his God, and lusted after the gross and sensual Fruits of this World, and fed upon them, and thereupon, became a Partaker of their Nature and Malignity; he fell from his Paradise and Sovereignty together, and he became a poor Subject and miserable Slave to all the Evils and Inclemencies of that temporary Nature, over which he had been constituted a throned Lord and Controller.
Here was a deep and a woeful Fall, my
Harry,
from Sovereignty to Slavery, from Eternity into Time, from Immortality into Corruption, from Bliss into Misery, and from Life into Death. The very State, in which the wretched Heirs of his fallen Nature find themselves at this Day. How then was he to rise, if ever to rise again? could this be effected by any Powers of his own? if he did not stand in the State of his Strength, how shall he recover and be able to reascend in the State of his Weakness? how think you, my
Harry?
A self evident Impossibility, answered
Harry.
Here then, continued Mr.
Fenton,
we find the Universe of Man depraved, fallen, and sunk into the Darkness of Sin and Error, into the Dungeon of gross and corruptible Flesh, and circled about and closed in by the Barriers and Gates of Death. And these Prisons were to be broken through, these Gates were to be burst open, before he could re-enter upon Light and Immortality. All the Enemies who had conquered Man,
Sin, Satan,
and
Temptation
were also to be conquered. But, how was this to be done? A World lay at Stake, and the great Question was, whether the whole Race of Man should continue in endless Guilt and Misery, or be restored to ever-during Purity and Blessedness? Wherefore, what all the Powers of Creation were not able to attempt,
Jesus,
in the Humanity, undertook to accomplish.
Here you see, my Child, that Justice had little to do in the Case. It was not the
Justice of Punishment,
but the
Mercy of Deliverance
that the Love of our heavenly Father required. Justice indeed affirmed that Suffering was due to Sin, and was the necessary Attendant and Consequence thereof; but this also the Love of our Christ willingly took upon himself. He conquered Suffering, through Sufferings, and was thereby made the perfect and accomplished Captain of our Salvation. He entered into our Flesh, he went through all the Passages of this Vale of Tears and Region of Misery, into which we were fallen; through Poverty, Contempt, Rejection, Reproach; through all that the Rage and Rancour of Men and Devils could inflict, his bloody Sweat and anguishing Horrors of Hell, Bonds, Buffetings, Spittings, Scourgings, the bloody Mockery of a thorny Crown, and all the Soul-rending Tortures of an agonizing Crucifixion, till at last, he triumphantly cried
it is finished!
and gave up the Ghost. From the Cross he descended into the Grave; from the Grave again, he rose in Glory and ascended into Heaven, where he led Captivity Captive, and showed the Powers of Darkness bound; that he might lead all the Followers of his beatific Cross, in his own divine Process, to Conquest through Sufferings, to Glory through Abasement, to Exaltation through Humiliation, through Death unto Life, and through the Calamities of Time to a never ending, ever blessing, ever joyful Eternity!
But, Sir, said
Harry,
was the Humanity of our blessed Saviour the same as ours is? for so the Scripture seems to intimate, where it says, he was made Man, like unto us in all Things, Sin only excepted.
This was only spoken, answered Mr.
Fenton,
with respect to his outward Humanity. His creaturely Soul indeed, and the Flesh which he derived from his mortal Mother, were even as ours are, Sin only excepted. But, these were only as the Husk or Case of his internal and divine Humanity, which was conceived from the Essence of the FATHER, by the Operation of the HOLY SPIRIT in the Womb of a pure Virgin. It was this Humanity to which JESUS was intimately united, and that became one with the ever blessed TRINITY. And it was of the Ubiquity of this Humanity that Christ speaketh, when he says to
Nicodemus, no Man hath ascended up to Heaven, but he that came down from Heaven, even the Son of Man which is in Heaven.
But, when the external Humanity of
Jesus
was, by Suffering and Death, prepared to be swallowed up of Glory, the whole CHRIST was then assumed up into Godhead. He saw all Things in
Jesus,
as they were and shall be from Eternity to Eternity. And, though the Glory of his personal Appearance may be visible in certain Places, yet he is invisibly present in all Places and in all Hearts, begetting in them a new Birth of his own divine Humanity; that their Bodies may also be fashioned like unto his glorious Body; and that, when our Corruptible shall have put on Incorruption, and when that our Mortal shall have put on Immortality,
We All may be made One, as He is in the Father and the Father in him, that we also may be One in them.
An Elevation, sure, well worth the hardest Striving, the highest Ambition!
Thus I have shown you, my
Harry,
the inevitable Necessity of the Suffering of our innocent Christ for the Salvation of guilty Sinners. And this also shows you the equal Necessity of his taking upon himself the external Imputation of the Sins for which he suffered; that he might, thereby, be inwardly imputed to us, and become to us and in us the LORD OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS; and be to us a better
Adam,
a second and divine Father, regenerating us to a Birth of his own heavenly Nature. And thus, as the first
Adam
died unto God, and lived to fallen Nature; there was a Necessity that Christ, as well in his own Person, as his redeemed Progeny, should die to the fallen Nature, that through him they might live again unto God.
O thank you, thank you, Sir, cried
Harry,
I shall henceforth be enabled to give an Account, to all who ask, of the Faith that is in me. But pray, did the divine Humanity of our Christ suffer in the Crucifixion?
I believe it did,
Harry,
even as our Souls are found to suffer in our Bodies, though of a Nature so very different from them. It was the Suffering of this divine Humanity that caused such violent Repugnance and Convulsions in Nature; that shut up the World from Light even at mid Day; that rent the Rocks, that opened the Graves, and gave up the Dead to attend their Lord and revive in the Life of his Resurrection.
Will you be pleased, Sir, to indulge me in one Question more? Could not God, in his Omnipotence, have affected the Salvation of Man by some other Means than the Suffering of our dear Christ? I think, were it to be done again, I would rather forfeit my Salvation, than that He should endure such Agony on my Account.
I will not pretend, my
Harry,
to give Limits or Directions to the Measures of my God, neither to say what he might or might not do within his own World, and with regard to his own Creatures. But, it is certain that he chose the most effectual Method, for compassing his great and eternal Purpose, that infinite Love could dictate, infinite Wisdom contrive, and infinite Power execute. O my
Harry,
how unutterably endeared must this Measure make our God to the Universe of his Creatures, and that to all Eternity! It is herein that the Nature of our God is revealed, it is hereby alone that he could ever have been duly known; known to be the God of Love, to be nothing but Love, in this his wonderful Work of Mercy transcending Mercy, and of Grace transcending Grace, that he might bring us to Glory transcending Glory!
In this stupendous Work of Redemption, I say,
Jesus
makes himself as it were little, that we may become great; He stoops into Manhood that he may exalt us into God. He came not arrayed in the Fool's Coat of the Lustre of this despicable World, nor in the Weakness of its Power, nor in the Meanness of its Dignity; but over his Immensity he threw the Appearance of Limitation, and with Time he invested his Eternity; and his Omnipotence put on Frailty, and his Supremacy put on Subjection; and with the Veil of Mortality, he shrouded his Beauty, that he might become familiar to us, that we might behold and converse with him Face to Face, as Man converses with Man and grows fond of his Fellow.
Before the Incarnation, God was feared in his Thunders, and adored in the Majesty and Magnificence of his Works. But, it is in the meek and lowly
Jesus
that he becomes the Object of Affection, in the bleeding, the suffering, the dying
Jesus,
we behold him with weeping Gratitude, we love him with a Love of Passion and Burning, a Love that languishes for him, that cannot bear to exist without him.
How could that perverse People shut their Eyes to the Divinity of their gracious
Messiah,
while he gave such hourly and ocular Proofs of the Power and Extent of his Godhead, in and over all Things? while he went about doing Good, carrying Healing in his Breath, in his Touch, in his Garments; while the Lame sprung up as a bounding Roe at his Bidding; while the Tempest heard his Voice and was still, and the Sea spread itself as a Carpet beneath the Foot of its Creator. While the deaf Ear was opened, and the dumb Tongue loosed to Utterance; while he poured the Beams of his Light upon the new-opening Eyes of the blind-born Gazer; and while in Death and amidst the Tombs his Word was Life and Resurrection.
Thus, my
Harry,
you find yourself united to your Saviour by many endearing and intimate Connections; by Creation, by Redemption, by Brotherhood, by Fatherhood, in the Flesh, in the Spirit; by his being Bone of your Bone; and Spirit of your Spirit, by being the
First-Born of many Brethren,
and by being the divine Father of a new and celestial Progeny.
But, what need we further? the World, from the Beginning, is fraught with him and speaks of him. The World is, in itself, no other than a History of the two capital and eternally important Truths, THE GREATNESS OF THE FALL in
Lucifer
and
Adam,
and THE GREATNESS OF THE REDEMPTION in
Jesus Christ.
These Truths are engraven in the Rocks as deep as the Centre; they are written on both Sides of every Leaf in Nature. All that is within us, All that is without us utters forth the same Language, proclaims the same Tidings aloud. All Ceremonials, all Institutions of divine Authority, all ancient Predictions and Prophecies were pregnant with and in Travail of the GREAT DELIVERANCE to be achieved by the
Shiloh
who was to come. They give us a previous History of his whole Process upon Earth, from his Birth to his Resurrection, as circumstantially, as minutely, as though it were a bare Transcript of what had recently passed before their Eyes. But I shall only dwell a Minute on three principal Articles, first, that Messiah was to be God  secondly, that he was however to be a suffering Messiah  and thirdly, that he was to give himself to Death for the Salvation of Sinners.
FIRST, with Respect to his Divinity,
Daniel
says:
I saw in the Night Visions, and behold, One like unto the SON OF MAN came with the Clouds of Heaven, and came to the ANCIENT OF DAYS, and they brought him near before him. And there was given him DOMINION and GLORY, and a KINGDOM, that all People, Nations, and Languages should serve him; his DOMINION is an EVERLASTING DOMINION which shall not pass away.
Again
Isaiah:
Behold a Virgin shall conceive and bear a Son. For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the Government shall be upon his Shoulder; and his Name shall be called WONDERFUL, COUNSELLOR, the MIGHTY GOD, the EVERLASTING FATHER, the PRINCE of PEACE. Of the Increase of his GOVERNMENT and PEACE there shall be NO END, upon the Throne of
David,
and upon his Kingdom, to order it, and to establish it, with JUDGMENT and with JUSTICE, from henceforth even FOR EVER.
SECONDLY, with Respect to his Character of Rejection and Suffering:
Who hath believed our Report and to whom is the Arm of the Lord revealed? He is despised and rejected of Men, a Man of Sorrows and acquainted with Grief, and we hid as it were our Faces from him; he was despised and we esteemed him not. He was oppressed and he was afflicted; he is brought as a Lamb to the Slaughter, and as a Sheep before her Shearers is dumb, so openeth he not his Mouth. He was taken from Prison and from judgement; and who shall declare his Generation? for he was cut off out of the Land of the Living, for the Transgression of my People was he stricken. And he made his Grave with the Wicked, and with the Rich in his Death.
Isaiah.
  
David
too says,
Dogs have compassed me, the Assembly of the Wicked have enclosed me; they pierced my Hands and my Feet. They part my Garments among them, and cast Lots for my Vesture.    But, a Bone of him shall not be broken.    They shall look on him whom they pierced.
THIRDLY, with Respect to his being a willing Offering for Sin.
Isaiah
says, in the same Chapter:
Surely he hath born our Griefs and carried our Sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But, he was wounded for our Transgressions, he was bruised for our Iniquities; the Chastisement of our Peace was upon him, and with his Stripes we are healed. All we like Sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own Way, and the Lord hath laid on him the Iniquity of us All.
Jeremiah
too  
Here, Mr.
Fenton
was interrupted. His Man
Frank
entered, booted, and all bespattered with Dirt, and having whispered Something in his Master's Ear, Mr.
Fenton
turned aside his Head, to hide his Concern from
Harry,
and stepping to his Closet, locked himself in.
BUT, it may be thought full Time to return to the Head-Branch of this noble Family.
Nearly nine Years had now elapsed, since the Earl and his Lady had seen or heard of their
Harry,
except by two or three anonymous Notes, in a Year, giving a short Account of his Health and Accomplishments; insomuch that Time and long Absence had, in a Measure, worn him from the Regrets of the Family; excepting his Brother
Richard,
on whom
Harry
's Generosity, in taking his Quarrel upon himself, had left an affecting, and indelible Impression.
Lord
Richard
was, indeed, sweetly dispositioned by Nature, and of an Aspect and Person extremely elegant; and as he had Tutors in all Branches, in which he chose to be instructed, he learned sufficient, by Way of Amusement, to render him One of the most accomplished Youths in the Nation. He was also, naturally, unassuming and modestly disposed; but the unremitted Adulation of Domestics and Dependents, with the complimentary Artillery of all the Neighbours and Visitants, could not fail of some Impression, at least so far as to make it evident that he was conscious of his Condescension when he became familiar with you.
He was, however, easy to All who applied to him for any Favour, exceeding charitable to the Poor; and particularly fond of our
Harry
's Fostermother, and kind to her for
Harry
's Sake.
With such amiable Qualities, he was esteemed and beloved of All, and became the little Idol of the adjacent Country, insomuch that, when he was seized with the Small Pox, the Apprehension and Anxiety for him was universal, and the great Mansion. House was hourly circled by People who came crowding, to enquire concerning his Danger.
The Eruption was but slight, only a few Spots on his Face and other Parts, so that my Lady was in high Triumph, on observing, that the Beauty of her Darling should not be defaced. But ah, how frail is the Foundation on which Mortality builds for Happiness! who can ensure it, who can arrest it for an Hour, for a Moment? On the eleventh Day, when the Physicians pronounced that All was promising and full of Hope, Lord
Richard
was suddenly taken with Convulsions, and, in less than an Hour, expired.
Lady
Enna,
Countess of
Moreland,
from whom the Seat had been newly denominated
Enna's Field
or
Enfield,
was present at the Death of All that she held most precious upon Earth. She had never left his Chamber since he had taken to his Bed; and was now carried off in a deep and death-like Swoon. She never after recovered her Senses, except by deplorable Starts, to lament that she was the most wretched of All that ever were created; and, on the second Day, She also expired, and was interred in the same Tomb with the Offspring of her Body and the Idol of her Heart.
Never was seen such a Concourse at any Funeral, since the Funeral of
Jacob
on which all
Egypt
attended. They crowded from a Distance of thirty Miles round. But, when they saw the old and revered Patron of the Country, all covered with sad and solemn Weeds; when they beheld his Countenance exceeding all Pomp of Sorrow, and conceived the Weight and Wringing that was then at his Heart; Envy was quite blunted and robbed of its Sting. They now lamented the Living more than they mourned the Dead; and the poorest among the Poor looked down, with an Eye of Compassion upon the great Man, now rendered, as they deemed, more pitiable and desolate even than themselves; without Child or Kindred; without Any to continue his Name or his Honours; without Any who could claim a Share in his Wealth or his Woe; without any Cause of further Comfort or further Care upon Earth.
During the following Week the Earl kept his Chamber, and would admit of no Visitor, till Mr.
Meekly
arrived.
Mr.
Meekly
had long estranged himself to
Enfield;
he had gone elsewhere, seeking the Houses of Mourning, and breathing Peace and Consolation wherever he went; but as soon as he heard of the Affliction of his noble Friend, he hastened to help him to bear up under the Weight of his Calamity. He entered, and seating himself in Silence beside the Earl, he there wept near an Hour without uttering a Syllable.
My Lord was the first who spoke; Mr.
Meekly,
said he, my Heart gratefully feels this melting Proof of your Love. You weep for me, my Friend, because You see, and kindly feel, that there is no other Comfort for me on this Side the Grave.
God forbid, God forbid, said Mr.
Meekly,
the best and greatest of all Comforts is coming to you, my Lord. Eternal Truth has promised it, and he will make it good to you;
blessed, blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Ah, Mr.
Meekly,
replied the Earl, the Comfort that you mention is promised only to the deeply contrite and broken of Heart; to those who duly lament the Baseness of their Offences against so great and good a God. Neither do I despair, my Friend, but that I also may finally share some Portion of that same Comfort; for, as I feelingly acknowledge myself the greatest of all Sinners, so I wish for Grace to make me the greatest of Penitents.
God be praised, cried
Meekly,
for the Grace already given! There was a Time, my Lord, when, as you told me, you had nothing of these divine Dispositions; when the World, as you said, seemed to hold out Happiness to you in either Hand; when Fortune, Title, Precedence, circling Honours about you, and within you Youth and Health, and a reveling Flow of Blood and Spirits wholly disguised and concealed the State of your Nature from you; when they hid from you your own Body of Frailty, Distemper, Sin and Death, and left you no Occasion to call out for a Saviour, as you felt nothing from which you desired to be saved. But God has now been graciously pleased to send you his Monitors, and to call upon you by Affliction, that you, in your Turn, may call upon him who alone can give you Consolation.
It is not, my Lord, to the Mourners for Sin, alone, to whom Comfort is promised. The State of Suffering and Mourning is in its Nature extremely salutary and of happy Tendency to Man, and it is, therefore, that the suffering
Jesus
hath pronounced it blessed.
The God of ALL LOVE takes no Delight in the Sufferings of his poor and pitiable Creatures; neither would he have made this State of our Mortality a Vale of Tears and a State of Misery, had it not been in order to conduct us, through transitory Evils to ever enduring Bliss, where he himself will wipe all Tears from our Eyes.
When
Adam,
by his Apostasy and falling off from his Maker, had converted all the Goods of this temporary State into evil Incitements to Lust, Covetousness, and Sensuality; God determined, by a gracious Reverse, to turn all the Evils of corrupt and fallen Nature into Means of enduring Good to his fallen and frail Creatures; he therefore appointed Pain, Affliction, Distress and Disease to be his Ministers, his Monitors, and Preachers within us, to convince us of all the Evil of our depraved and mortal Nature; to wean us from a World that is full of false Promises but empty of true Enjoyment; to remind us that we are Strangers and Pilgrims upon Earth, to turn our Eye to the Star that hath visited us from on high; and finally, through our Sufferings, to accomplish the great Work of his own Salvation in us.
Thank you, thank you, Mr.
Meekly,
these are comforting Things indeed. They pluck Comfort from the very Depth and Abyss of Affliction. I love that my God should be lovely to my Heart. You have now rent the dark Veil that long hung before my Eyes; and the Sun of Righteousness breaks upon me through the Clouds of my Mortality. --But, what of Death, Mr.
Meekly,
what of Death, my Friend? I am interested in the Question; my Time is approaching. When this Body shall fall to Dust, and all these Organs of Sensation be utterly cut off; what remains, what then shall follow? by what Means shall my Spirit attain the Powers of new Perception; or am I to lye in the Grave, in a State of total Insensibility, till the last Trumpet shall sound? my Nature shrinks, I confess, from a total Deprivation of the Sense of Existence.
It is no Way evident to me, my Lord, that Body, or at least such gross Bodies as we now have, are necessary to the Perceptions and Sensibilities of our Spirit. God himself is a Spirit, an all-seeing, all-hearing, all-tasting, all-smelling, all-feeling, all-knowing, and all-governing Spirit. He who made the Eye, shall he not see? He who made the Ear, shall he not hear? Wherefore, as our Spirits are the Offsprings of his divine Spirit, we may justly presume them endowed with like Capacities. But, if Body is necessary to the Perception of Spirit, as
Zoroaster,
the illuminated Philosopher, seems to intimate, where, speaking of God, he says,
whose Body is Light and whose Soul is Truth,
in this Case, I say, we may reasonably suppose that when our Spirits shall be parted from these gross and frail Bodies, they shall be instantly clothed upon with more pure and permanent Bodies. Or, as I rather think, that those pure and permanent Bodies are already forming and pregnant within our gross and corruptible Bodies; and that when the Midwife Death shall deliver us from the dark Womb of our woeful Travail and Mortality; we shall immediately spring forth into Incorruption and Glory.
Of this, my Lord, I am confident as I am of my Being, that He who, by Faith, hath already put on Christ, shall break through Death in the Brightness of the Body of his new Birth, incorruptible, immortal and blessed to all Eternity.
Tell me then, my dearest
Meekly,
what mean you by the Body of this new Birth? For alas, I am but too apt to cry out with
Nicodemus, How can these things be?
I mean, my Lord, the forming of Christ within us. Our being formed anew of a divine Seed of our second
Adam,
even as our gross Bodies were formed in the Womb from a corruptible Seed of the old
Adam.
I mean the clothing of our Spirits with the heavenly Substantiality of the spiritual Body and Blood of the heavenly
Jesus
himself; for, as the Apostle says, there is a spiritual Body as there is a carnal Body. I mean a Body the same as that, in which the believing Thief entered Paradise with his Lord on the Day of the Crucifixion.
I am the Resurrection and the Life,
saith JESUS,
whoso believeth in me, though he were dead yet shall he live, and he who liveth and believeth in me shall never die.
Death shall become a new and divine Birth unto him. And the great Apostle says,
there are celestial Bodies and Bodies terrestrial; but the Glory of the Celestial is one, and the Glory of the Terrestrial is another.
And again he says,
for we know that if our earthly House of this Tabernacle were dissolved, we have a Building of God, an House not made with Hands, eternal in the Heavens.
These are great Things, indeed, Mr.
Meekly,
and full of Hope as well as Incitements to divine Ambition.
But why, my Lord, should a new Birth from
Jesus Christ
be thought wonderful? is there any thing more wonderful in it than in the forming and unfolding of the whole stupendous Mechanism of the Body of our old Man, from a scarce visible Speck of Entity? Is there any thing more wonderful in it than in the Growth and unfolding of any common Vegetable from some latent Principle or invisible Speck in the Seed, which not all the Optics and Glasses of a
Galileo
should be able to discover? Were not these the known Facts of every Day and Hour, Incredulity would have laughed the Supposition to naught. But, I think, I have got, about me, Something most surprisingly analogous and apposite to the Nature and Manner of our new Birth in
Jesus.
Mr.
Meekly
then put his Hand to his Pocket, and took out a Lump of Matter, in Form like a long and huge Maggot, evidently without Motion, apparently without Life, and hard and incrusted all about to the Feeling.
What have you got there, my Friend, said the Earl? An old Worm, my Lord, that, at this Instant, is pregnant with the Birth of a new Creature. Impossible, cried the Earl, the Thing is absolutely dead. The Body of the old Worm is dead, indeed, my Lord; but there is certainly a Principle of a new Life within it, that will soon manifest itself in the Birth of a very beautiful and wonderfully glorious Creature. And this you will find, if you leave it for a few Days where it may get the fostering Warmth of the Sun through one of your Windows. Have you ever seen the Fly they call the Dragon-Fly, my Lord?
Yes, and have admired the Elegance of its Shape, the Mechanism of its double Wings, and the Lustre of its Irradiations.
This Mass, my Lord, of apparently insensible Matter, is now actually pregnant with One of the same Species. The Parent, through whose Death it is to attain Life, was no Other, as you see, than a vile and groveling Maggot, who once fed and took its Delight in the Stench and Ordure of a Jakes. But the new Creature that is to be born from it will be quite of a different Nature and Tendency. It will loath the Food and Occupation of its foul Progenitor. It will soar sublime over carnal and earthly Things. It will drink the Dews of Heaven, and feed on the consummate Nectar and Fragrance of Flowers.
This, indeed, Mr.
Meekly,
rejoined the Earl, is to make the invisible Things of God visible, even to the naked Eye, by the Things that are seen.
While my Lord and his Friend were thus deeply in Discourse, Mr.
John,
the House-Steward, came in and told his Master that One waited in the Hall with a Letter for him.
A Letter, cried the Earl, what can I have to say,
John,
to any Letters, or any of the Writers thereof? --But, something is due to Humanity, and it shall be paid; desire him to step in.
Hereupon a Stranger entered, whose Figure instantly caught the Eyes and Attention of the Earl and his Companion in an astonished Captivity. The Youth was dressed in simple Fustian; and his dark brown Locks, tied behind with a black Riband, flowed carelessly between his Shoulders; while some of the front straying Curls, as in Sport, alternately shaded and discovered a Part of his lovely Countenance. He bowed, he moved Attraction; and gracefully advancing toward my Lord, he again bowed, laid a Letter before him, on the Table, and then silently retired backward a few Steps.
They viewed him, they gazed upon him, as it had been the sudden Vision of an Angel of Light. Mr.
Meekly
was not able to utter a Word; neither had my Lord the Power to lay a Finger on the Paper that was directed to him; till Mr.
Meekly,
at last, giving a great Stroke on the Table, cried suddenly out, I would lay a thousand Pounds of it! It is He! it is he! --My Heart tells me he can be no Other but your
Harry Clinton!
Here
Harry
sprung forward and, casting himself precipitately at the Feet of the Earl, he clasped his Knees with an eager Reverence, crying, My Father, my honoured, my dear, my dear Father! and broke into Tears.
My Lord, all in a Tremor, attempted to raise him to his Arms; and
Harry,
perceiving this, rose and threw himself into the Bosom of his Father. But the Earl gently and fondly put him off a little, and gazing intently at a Countenance that appeared to him lovely, above All that was lovely in the Circle of Creation, he gathered new Strength, and catching
Harry
to his Breast, he exclaimed in a Transport,
Let me die, let me die, since I have seen thy Face, my Son!
THUS my Lord, in the recent Acquisition of such a Son, forgot all his Losses, and cast the whole Weight of his late Calamities behind him. His Eye could not be tired with seeing him, neither his Ear with hearing the Sweetness of his Voice; and he continued to hold, to gaze at him, to caress him, unmindful of aught else, unmindful even of his Friend
Meekly,
who sat enraptured beside him.
Will you leave me again, my Child? cried out the Earl; do you intend to go from me again, my
Harry?
you must not, you shall not leave me, not for an Hour, no not for a Minute; a second Loss of my Son would quickly bring my grey Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave. Never, never, my Lord, will I leave you, tenderly cried
Harry;
never, for a Moment, will I forsake you again, my Father. I come purposely to watch over, to comfort, to tend you, while I have Life, with all possible Tenderness, Affection and Duty.
But where, hastily asked the Earl, where is the Murderer who stabbed my Peace? where is that old Thief, that Robber, who rent my Child from me? Ah! my Lord, cried
Harry,
he is very far from meriting such opprobrious Epithets; He is a Summary of all that is excellent, all that is amiable in Nature. He respects and loves you too, above the World, and all that is in it deserving of Love. O, had you lately seen his Grief for your Losses, the Floods of Tears he shed,  for  for  for !    Here
Harry
could no more, but, on the Recollection of his Mother and Brother, burst into Tears.
But tell me, my Dear, continued the Earl, tell me who and what he is, whom you commend so highly?
Even the Son of your own Mother, my Lord; my much loved, my revered, my most honoured Uncle.
Impossible, my Child. That old despicable Man my Brother. No no, my
Harry,
he must have deceived you. My Brother was All that was amiable upon Earth;
the Fairest among ten Thousand,
the straightest Cedar in the Forest.
And such he is at this Day, my Lord. But, alas, alas, he has been broken by the Batteries of many Afflictions; a Man wholly made up of Sorrows, and acquainted with killing Griefs. You wanted me not, when he took me, my Father. You had other and richer Treasures, Comforts that were infinitely more worthy your Regard. But, little and despicable as I was, He had nothing but me. I became his only Comfort, the only Treasure in which he delighted. Yet, as soon as he heard that you wanted Consolation, he chose rather to be without it himself; and so he restores me to you, if I may be any little Matter of Comfort to you, my Father.
And where is this dear Uncle, this precious Brother, my
Harry?
Is he come with you, shall I be so blessed to take him in with my Eye, to take him in with my Arms, to petition, to obtain his Pardon, to press him to my Bosom, to my Heart, to my Soul, where is he, where is this precious Brother, my
Harry?
He is not come with me, my Lord, he feared, as he said, that you would not forgive him the carrying off of your
Ganymede,
but he is desirous of attending you, on the first Intimation.
Then you must write to him, for that Purpose, to Morrow, my Son, and dispatch your Invitation by some of our swiftest Horses. The Influence of his Darling will, unquestionably, be greater than that of an offending and unnatural Brother. Is this Letter from him,
Harry?
--it is, my Lord. --Then, I will not peruse it, till I get by myself. It probably contains Reproaches but too well merited; or, possibly, Matters of Consolation, too tender for me to bear. --But, Mr.
Meekly,
my dearest
Meekly,
ten thousand Pardons!   
Harry,
take to your Arms the Man, in the World, next to your Uncle, most deserving of your Reverence, most deserving of your Heart!
Here, Mr.
Meekly
kissed and embraced our Hero, with all the Tenderness of a Father and the Ardour of an old Friend.
Mr.
Meekly,
cried
Harry,
looking earnestly and fondly at him, do I not remember something of that Face, Mr.
Meekly?
Are you not the Gentleman, for whom I, long since, conceived such an Attachment, to whom my Heart cleaved, as I may say, from my Infancy?
I am, my heavenly Creature, answered
Meekly,
I am the Man indeed whose Soul was knit to yours, like the Soul of
Jonathan
to
David,
the first Moment I beheld you; and who saw in you, then, all those noble, generous, and divinely humane Propensities, that I see arrived to their Maturity at this happy Day!
While Mr.
Meekly
was thus rejoicing,
Harry
happened to turn his Head aside, and spying the lively Portraits of my Lady and Lord
Richard,
he started, he rose, and, gazing on them a Minute; he went softly to the Window, and, taking out his Handkerchief, kept his Back to the Company, while he vented his Emotions in a silent Passion of Tears. His Father and Mr.
Meekly
perceived what he was about, but they did not disturb him. He brought fresh to their Remembrance all the Passages of late Affliction, and they silently joined a Flow of Grief to his. But their Tears were the Tears of sympathising Humanity: or rather Tears of Delight, on observing the sweet Sensibilities of their Darling.
In the mean Time Mr.
Frank,
who attended on
Harry,
had whisperingly given the mourning Domestics an Intimation, concerning the Person of the Stranger who had arrived. Some of them well remembered him; and All of them had heard of him, and conceived a very kindly Impression of our
Harry.
They first expressed their mutual Joy, by Kisses, Embraces, and silent Shakes of the Hand; but, in a little Space, their Congratulations became more loud and tumultuous, and the Voice of Exultation was heard through all the lower House.
Harry,
hereupon, felt himself secretly hurt, and turning to his Father his yet tearful Countenance, my Lord, says he, I beseech you to suppress this unseasonable Sound of Joy among your Servants, in a House that ought so justly to be the House of Mourning. --My Love, mildly and kindly answered the Earl, I cannot wholly refuse, to my poor and afflicted People, some Share of that Comfort which I myself feel on the Return of my
Harry.
They are All my old and true Servants, my Child, this is no other than an Expression of their Love to you and to me, and I request you to receive them affectionately for my Sake.
Here the Earl rung a Bell, and desired that all his Domestics should come in.
They accordingly entered.
Harry
perfectly recollected Mr.
John,
the Steward, Mr.
Samuel,
the Butler, and old Mrs.
Mary,
the Cook. He called them by their Names, reminded them of old Times, and took them in his Arms with much Affection. He then turned to the other Servants. He took Each of them by the Hand in Turns, and spoke to them, with such a natural Ease and Lowliness, as though he himself desired, in his Father's House, to become also,
as One of his hired Servants.
Hereupon, gathering All about him, they caught and kissed his Hand by Force; and then, kneeling around, they promiscuously petitioned for Blessings on his Head; and rising, retired in a pleasing Passion of Sobs and Tears; while the enraptured Earl beheld All; with a Mixture of such blissful Sensations, as he had never felt before.
It now began to grow late, and, after a short Repast of some small Matters; my Lord proposed their retiring to Bed, but, my Friend, said he to
Harry,
you must content yourself with being my Prisoner for the present; you must lie in my Chamber; I will not trust my Lamb from my Side, for Fear of its going once more astray. Ah, my Lord, cried
Harry,
there is no Fear of that. My Heart is wholly your Property, and you have, thereby, a sure Hold of all that I am or can have.
The next Morning,
Harry
impatiently rose, before the Servants were stirring; and unlocking the great Door, and closing it softly after him, he went out exulting on his premeditated Expedition. He reconnoitered and recollected the quondam Scenes of his Childhood, and, flying like a Bird over the Hedges and other Obstacles, he made the shortest Way to his still precious Mammy's.
When he approached the Place of his infant Endearments, he met his Fosterfather going forth to his Field, with a solemn and melancholy Air, on his usual Occupations.
Harry
instantly remembered the Features, once so delightful, and springing to him, and catching at him, he kissed and clasped him repeatedly, and cried aloud, my Daddy, my Daddy, my dear, dear Daddy
Dobson!
how glad am I to see you once again! how is my Mammy, my dear Mammy? how is little
Tommy
and little
Rachel,
and all our dear Family?
The old Man then, respectfully withdrawing a Space, I don't know you, my sweet Master, said he; I never saw you before. Indeed but you did; many and many a time and oft, cried
Harry,
you carried me in your Arms, almost the livelong Day, and pressed and hushed me to sleep at Night in your Bosom. Don't you remember, your little
Harry?
don't you remember my two Dogs, don't you remember my Cock?
O, exclaimed the good old Man, I now believe that you are my Child, the dearest Child that ever was born! But, I never hoped to see him such a Thing as you are; I never thought to see such a glorious Creature upon Earth!
Here, old
Dobson
returned
Harry
's Caresses with a two-fold Force, and, blubbering all aloud, had like to have smothered him with the Intenseness of his Embraces.
Bring me, bring me, cried
Harry,
to the Sight of my dearest Mammy, I am all impatient, to behold her!
Not so fast, said Gaffer
Dobson,
I love my old loving
Cate,
and, should she find you out, of a sudden, she would certainly die of Joy. But, I will bring you to her as a Stranger, and so you may bring Matters about. And, indeed, I fear that my own Head is likely to be crazed by this Business; for I do not find that I am the same Man that I was a while agone, I shall grow too proud, I doubt, and look down upon all my better Neighbours.
Goodman
Dobson
then conducted
Harry
to their ancient Habitation. Nurse
Dobson
was just up, and preparing to comb the Heads of her Children, when they entered.
Cate,
says he, I have brought to you a young Stranger, who says he can give you some Account of our little
Harry,
who says he is still alive, notwithstanding all your Frights, and will shortly pay a Visit to some Parts of this Country; and who knows then, but that we, among Others, may happen to set our Eyes upon him, and that, I think, would be a great Blessing, my
Cate?
O, no, no, no, exclaimed Nurse, without deigning to cast her Eyes on the Stranger; he is dead, he is gone from me these many many Years; I once hoped to have his Infant on my Knee and in my Bosom, but that Hope is quite gone; never, never shall I behold my Darling again.
Harry
had seated himself just opposite to Nurse; when, looking up, she started, and stared eagerly in his Face. Don't impose upon me,
William,
says she; tell me, tell me at once, mayhap this is my Child! Ah, against the World, the Dimple in that Smile, is the Dimple of my
Harry.
Here
Harry
sprung up and, at one Leap, caught his rising Nurse in his Arms, crying, my Mammy, my Mammy, my dearest Mammy, do I live to be pressed once more to your dear Bosom!
But the poor Woman breathed short, and could not get out a Word. Twenty times she put him from her, and caught him to her again, gazing at him, by Intervals, with a frantic Affection. At length, she cast herself back, on the Bench that was behind her, and, clapping her Hands together, she gave a great Shout, and burst into an hysterical Passion of Tears; while
Harry
seated himself beside her, and gently drawing her Head to him, placed it fondly on his Bosom, and mixed his Tears with her's.
This Gush came very seasonably for our loving Nurse's Relief. She soon recovered her Breath and her Senses; and, seeing some Drops on her
Harry
's Cheeks, she drew them in with her Lips, crying, precious Pearls be these! I would not exchange One of them for the brightest Diamond in the Mines.
Mammy, says
Harry,
I stole away to come and see you, while my Father was asleep, or else I should not have had Leave to stir from him a Foot. But You and my Daddy must promise to come and dine with me, we will have a Table by Ourselves. And do You, my dear Mammy, step to our House, and, if my Father should miss me, tell him I am gone into the Town and will be back with him before Breakfast.
Harry
then stepped to the Village, and, remembering Gaffer
Truck
's House, he went familiarly in, and enquired of the good Woman how all the Family was. Pray, how is my honest old
Bartholemew,
says he, and how is your pretty Daughter
Molly,
and above all what is become of my old Friend
Tom?
The poor Woman, all in Amazement, cried, a pretty
Tom
he is forsooth, to be Friend to such a sweet young Gentleman as You are. But Truth is that our
Tom
is at prentice to a Barber at next Door. Well, says
Harry,
when Gaffer
Truck
comes Home, tell him that his old Acquaintance,
Harry Clinton,
called to see him.
Tom
had just finished an Operation on a Neighbour, as our Hero entered. How are you
Tom,
says he, carelessly.
Tom
gaped, and stared, and gaped; but answered not a Word. Will you give me a Cast of your Office,
Tom?
Ay, that I will, Master, as soon you get a Beard. Why,
Tom,
you are grown a huge hulking Fellow since I saw you last; will you step to yonder Green and wrestle one Fall with me? No, no, Master, I should hurt you; methinks I could throw a Dozen of such fairweather Gentlemen as You are, Master.
Harry
instantly seized
Tom,
by the Breast with one Hand, and by the Shoulder with the Other; when
Tom,
feeling the Hardness and Hurt of his Gripe, immediately exerted his Powers, and grappled with his Adversary. But
Harry,
giving him a slight Foot, laid him on the broad of his Back in the Middle of his own Floor; but kept him, with both Hands, from being hurt against the Ground.
I believe, said
Tom,
rising, You must certainly be the Devil; and come, as they say, to fling poor Sinners in the Shape of an Angel of Light. Ah,
Tom, Tom,
cried
Harry,
this is not the first Struggle that you and I have had. Do you remember the Bag of Nuts and poor blind
Tommy?
have you forgot your old Friend, your little
Harry Clinton?
Blessed Mercy! exclaimed
Tom,
can you be my young Lord, my Heart's dear young Master? I am indeed, answered
Harry,
your old Acquaintance, my dear
Tom,
your loving Friend,
Harry Clinton.
And so saying, he took
Tom
about the Neck and kissed him very cordially.
Tom,
says
Harry,
I want you to take a Walk with me;
Tom
instantly assented, and out they went.
As they walked along,
Harry
began to grow sad.
Tom,
said he, do you know where my dear Brother
Dickey
was buried? Yes, Sir, said
Tom,
a great Way off, in yonder Church Yard below the Town's End. Do you know where the Sexton lives,
Tom?
In a little white House, Sir, just joining the Yard.
As soon as they arrived,
Tom
called out the Sexton, and
Harry,
putting a Guinea into his Hand, ordered him directly to unlock the Family Vault.
The Man looked astonished, but obeyed in Silence, and
Harry,
as he entered, desired the Sexton and
Tom
to wait at a Distance, and promised to be with them, by and by.
He put to the Door after him, just leaving Light enough to distinguish the recent Deposits of the Dead.
O, said he, as he advanced, thou true House of Mourning, thou silent End of all Men, how sad art thou to Sense! how sad to me above All, who bearest in thy dark Bosom such precious and beloved Relics.
Then, casting himself on the Coffins of my Lady and Lord
Richard,
as they lay Side by Side; and clasping his Arms about them as far as he could reach; O, he cried, my Mother, my Brother, my dearest Brother, my dearest Mother, you are gone, you are gone from me, and You never knew the Love that your Son and Brother had for You. Ah, how did I flatter myself, what Happiness did I not propose, in attending, serving, and pleasing You; in doing thousands of tender, kindly and endearing Offices about You! but you are snatched from me, my Mother, you are snatched from me, my Brother! all my Prospects are defeated and cut away for ever. You will no more return to me, but I shall go to You; and O, that I were laid with You this Minute in this still and peaceful Mansion; where Hopes and Fears cease, and All are humbled together!
Mean while, Mr.
Meekly
and gone abroad on his Morning's Walk. He met Nurse on her Way to the Mansion House, and, accosting her in a kind of Triumph, my good Nurse, says he, we have blessed Tidings for you, Your
Harry,
your Hero, is come to the Country. I know it, Sir, I know it, answered Nurse, it is but a little while ago that my Babe left my Bosom.
Mr.
Meekly
then proceeded in order to join his young Friend, enquiring of All he met which Way Lord
Henry
went, till at last he was directed to the Church Yard. There he found
Tom
and the Sexton who, on further Question, silently pointed to the Door of the Family Vault, that hung on the jar.
Mr.
Meekly
felt himself affected, and withdrew to a greater Distance; but still keeping his tearful Eye on the sad Mansion that now held the Living with the Dead.
At length
Harry
came forth, drying his Cheeks with his Handkerchief. He assumed a constrained Air of Cheerfulness, and joining
Tom
and the Sexton, observed that a great Crowd was gathering in the Town.
Who are Those,
Tom?
says he; I suppose, answered
Tom,
your Honour's Tenants and old Acquaintances, who are getting together to welcome You to the Country. If that is the Case,
Tom,
we must go and salute them; and You shall introduce me and tell me who is who.
Mr.
Meekly,
perceiving that
Harry
was on his Return, kept onward, aloof from him, but with an Eye on his Motions.
By this Time, the Crowd had sorted themselves, the Principals of the Families into one Group, the young Men into Another, and the fair Maidens into Another. And, as
Harry
approached, They all set up a joint Shout of Triumph.
Please your Honour, says
Tom,
this is my Father; and this is Gaffer
Gubbins,
and this Goodman
Demster,
and this Farmer
Felster,
and so on.
Harry,
with the Lowliness of a Washer of Feet, would have kissed and embraced them All in Turns; but, pressing about him, they seized a Hand on either Side, and eagerly kissed them, as also the Skirts of his Clothes all round.
God bless your sweet Face, God bless your sweet Face! cried Goodman
Demster,
who so sees it in a Morning, can't fail, I think, of prospering the live-long Day.
When he came, in Succession, to the Companions of his Infancy, as he kissed and shook Hands with Each, in turn; Some reminded him of his having beat them at Boxing, Others at Wrestling, and All of his having played with them at Prison-Bars, Leapfrog, Shoot the Gate, and so forth.
Mean while, the Girls panted, gazed at him, and longed to get him to themselves. Sir, says
Tom,
here is your old Acquaintance, my Sister
Molly;
there is not a Lad, in the Town, whom she is not able to toss, except your Honour.
Molly
looked full of Health as
Haebe,
and rosy as the May, and
Harry
caught her about the Neck and kissed her very cordially. Do you remember me,
Molly?
O, answered
Molly,
I shall never forget, since your Honour's Lordship and I used to wrestle every Day behind our House. Ay,
Molly,
cried
Harry,
there was no Harm in it then; but a Fall, at this Day, might be Dangerous to One of us; above all things take Care of that, my good
Molly.
And, if you know ere a pretty Lad, to whom you have a Liking, I will give You fifty Guineas, for old Acquaintance sake, toward making up your Portion.
The Rest of the Girls now pressed for their Share of
Harry,
and it was with Difficulty that he divided himself with any satisfactory Equality among them, as they All kissed him so close, and seemed so loth to part.
At length,
Harry
's Watch reminded him that it was Time to attend his Father, and, as he parted, they shouted after him, long Life and Health and Honours, to our Townsman, our own Boy, our own dear sweet Child!
In the mean time, Mr.
Meekly
had returned Home, with his Heart full of Tidings to the Earl. When
Harry
arrived, Breakfast was on Table, and he perceived that his Father had been in Tears. But, no Notice was taken of the Affair at the Charnel House, on either Part.
When Breakfast was over,
Harry
called in
John.
Mr.
John,
says he, can you tell me how many Families there are in this Village of Yours? Twenty five Families exactly, my Lord. Then
Harry
turned to his Father and said, if your Lordship will be pleased to lend me five hundred Guineas for the present, I will pay you very honestly the Hour that my Uncle comes to the Country. Why, Sirrah, cried the Earl pleasantly, what Right has your Uncle to pay your Debts, especially to such a great Amount as you speak of? O, my Lord, answered
Harry,
I have already squandered away above fifty thousand Pounds of his Money, and this is but a Trifle which, I am sure, I may very safely add to the Rest.
Here the Earl looked truly astonished. Fifty thousand Pounds! he exclaimed, impossible,
Harry.
Why, you had neither such Ponds or Lakes, as mine, in
London,
wherein you might make Ducks and Drakes of them. How, in the World, could you contrive it, where did you dispose of them?
In Hospitals and in Prisons, my Father, answered
Harry.
In Streets and Highways, among the Wretched and the Indigent. Supplying Eyes to the Blind, and Limbs to the Lame; and Cheerfulness to the Sorrowful and broken of Heart; for such was my Uncle's Orders.
Let me go, let me go from this Place, my Lord, cried
Meekly!
this Boy will absolutely kill me, if I stay any longer. He overpowers, he suffocates me with the Weight of his Sentiments.
Well,
Harry,
said the Earl, go to my Desk, here is the Key of the Drawer on the left Hand, and I make you a Present of the Key and the Contents; perhaps you may find there nearly as much as will answer your present Exigencies.
Harry
went and, opening the Drawer, was astonished to see it quite full of Gold. However he took no more than just the Sum proposed and, returning to his Father, said, what shall I do, my Lord, with that vast Heap of Money? Why, you extravagant Rogue, replied the Earl, there is not as much in it as will pay the Debt you have contracted with one Man. O, cried
Harry,
I am quite easy upon that Score; I will never affront my Uncle by the Offer of a Penny. And, don't you think, said the Earl, that we have got Poor among us in the Country, as well as you have in the City,
Harry?
I believe you may have got Some, my Lord, but then I am much more difficult, than you may think, in the Objects on whom I would choose to confer Charity. I look upon the Money, amassed by the Wealthy, to have been already extracted from the Earnings of the Poor, the poor Farmer, the poor Craftsman, the hard-handed Peasant, and the Day Labourer, whose seven Children perhaps subsist on the Milk of a Couple of Cows. Wherefore, the Objects, on whom we bestow these Gatherings, ought at least to be something poorer, and more worthy of Compassion than Those from whom the Money was exacted. So saying, he stepped out.
Amazing Boy! cried Mr.
Meekly,
how new, and yet how just was that Observation! I am, cried the Earl, as it were in a Kind of delicious Dream, and can scarce yet believe myself so blessed as to be the Father of such a Child!
In the mean time,
Harry
had called
John
aside. Mr.
John,
says he, here are five hundred Guineas. Be pleased to step and distribute them by twenty Guineas to Each of the Families in the Village. I would save you the Trouble, and give them myself, but that, for the present, my Heart turns with Disgust from their Thanks and their Honours. Tell them that this is a Token, in Memory of my dear Brother, to keep them in mind of him. Tell them further that I will have no Carousals, no Rejoicings, on Account of my Arrival; and that it would please me infinitely better, if my Return would bring their late Losses to their Remembrance, and set them All in Tears and Lamentations.
My Lord now proposed a Saunter into the Park, in order to procure an Appetite for Dinner. Accordingly the Gate was ordered to be unlocked; and they entered on a Gravel Walk, that was walled in on the left Hand, and paled in on the Right, along the Verge of five Canals that fell, successively, in Cascades, the One into the Other. Beyond the Canals, a vast Lawn fled the Eye, thinly interspersed with Trees of different Hues and Natures. The Lawn again was closed by an extensive Lake; and, on the further Side of the Lake, there rose and sunk several Glens, that varied their Forms to the Prospect, as they walked. Beyond the Glens there arose, again, to the Eye, a huge Forest of time-immemorial Oaks. And, beyond All, there ascended a Range of romantic Mountains, whose Fronts were whitened here and there with impending Rocks; but whose Tops scaled the Heavens, and confounded their Forms and Colours with the Clouds.
As they talked and walked along, they met with a six barred Gate that directly thwarted their Passage; and my Lord reached his Hand, through the Rails, for the Key, that the Keeper had left in the Lock on the inside, but he could not get at it. We are All at a full Stop now, said he, unless
Harry
could make a Shift to climb over the Gate; but no, don't, my Dear, your Foot might happen to slip between the Rails and hurt you. I will obey your Lordship, answered
Harry,
I will not venture a Foot upon One of them. So saying, he caught at the topmost Bar with his left Hand, and, throwing himself slightly over, opened the Gate for his Companions. The Earl and Mr.
Meekly
stood mute, in utter Astonishment. At length the Earl cried, Child, you must surely be of more than mortal Mould, or else you have a familiar Spirit that conveys you through the Air. I have indeed a familiar Spirit, my Lord, answered
Harry,
a Spirit much humbled by the Sense of its own Defects.
On their Return,
John
called his Master aside, and told him of his due Distribution of
Harry
's Bounty to the Villagers. But my Lord, said he, when I went down I found them All very busily employed, in preparing Bonfires and Illuminations in Honour of my young Lord. This, however, I was obliged to countermand, by his special Order; and it has greatly mortified all your poor People. Well, well, said the Earl, it can't be helped for the present; we must not dare to offend our
Harry
at any Rate; and so those Matters of Rejoicing may rest in Reserve till the Arrival of my Brother.
Soon afterwards, our Hero's Fosterers came, decked out in their best Attire; and
Harry
ordered a side Table to be covered for him and them, but my Lord insisted on their dining all together.
Harry
placed himself very lovingly between them, at Table, that he might help them and prevail upon their Bashfulness to eat.
When the Repast was nearly over, Nurse enquired after the little Beggar-Boy, whose Absence, she imagined, had caused the Elopement of her Darling. He is come to great Fortune, answered
Harry,
he has found his Father and Mother, and is Heir to a large Estate.
Harry
then told the Manner in which
Ned
had been discovered, and they were All highly pleased and affected by the Relation.
But Mammy, says
Harry,
what is become of my Sister
Nelly
on whose Milk I was suckled? and what is become of my little Brother
Tommy,
who was but two Years younger than myself ?    They are both dead, my Precious; but God has been pleased to give me Others in their Room. --Well, Mammy, I find we must all die, and, some time or other, that will be a great Grief to One of us, whichever of us shall happen to outlive the Other. I am satisfied to die once, said Nurse, but, never let me hear again of your dying, my Angel, I can't suffer the Thought, she cried, and burst forth into Tears; I couldnt bear, I couldnt bear to die a thousand Deaths in the Death of my
Harry!
But, Mammy, said
Harry,
in order to divert her Passion, you have not yet enquired after the Man with the Beard. O, the old Rogue, exclaimed Nurse, I can't think of him with Patience. Ay, but, Mammy, you must know that, that same old Rogue is my own darling Uncle, an own and only dear Brother to my own dear Father here. If that is the Case, said Nurse, I don't wonder he should so greatly yearn after you; and indeed I would rather wonder if all the World did not yearn and long after you, my Love!
And now, Mammy, to show you how much you are obliged to this same darling Uncle, he has ordered me to make you a Present of five hundred Pounds, in Payment, as he says, of the Grief he has cost you. And take no Heed for your Children, Mammy, I will take that Care upon myself; for this same dear Uncle has made me a Gift of the Lands, and House, and Plate, and Furniture that he has in this Town, and so you see I am well able to provide for you All.
Here, my Lord cast an Eye of tender Jealousy upon
Harry.
I perceive, my Son, said he, that your Uncle is your only Trust, the only Dependence that you choose to have upon Earth.
Harry,
with a Glance of his Eye, instantly caught the Meaning of the Eye of his Father; and, throwing himself at his Feet, O, pardon, my Lord, he cried, pray, pardon the Overflowings of a grateful and simple Heart! My Uncle is my Property, but I am your's, my Father, to be disposed of in Life, and in Death, at your Pleasure. I do trust, I do depend upon you, my Father, and you have already overpowered me with the Weight of your Affections.
My Lord's Eyes then glistened, and raising his Son, and taking him fondly to his Bosom, I believe I have been wrong, my Love, said he; and hereafter I shall always think so, rather than think any thing amiss in my
Harry.
But, tell me, my Dear, and tell me sincerely; you speak of your Uncle, as One of the richest and greatest Men upon Earth; as a Prince, as an Emperor, enabled to give away Fortunes and Provinces at Pleasure.
And he is, my Lord, cried
Harry,
he is greater than any Prince or Emperor upon Earth. To speak only of his temporal Wealth and Power, the most inconsiderable Part of his Value. He can do, as I may say, what he pleases in
England.
The Ministry are at his Beck, they profess themselves his Servants; and even his Majesty acknowledges himself deeply his Debtor, and owes him, I dare say, Half a Million of sterling
English.
And yet this is the Man, exclaimed the Earl, (turning an Eye of Penitence on Mr.
Meekly
) this is the Man, as I told you, my Friend, on whom I looked down with such provoking Contempt; whom I treated with such unpardonable Insolence and Ignominy.
My Lord then enquired concerning the personal Adventures of our Hero in
London,
the Account of which would have been more entertaining, had not
Harry
suppressed, throughout his Narration, whatever he apprehended might tend to his own Honour.
As soon as the Fosterers had taken their leave, my Lord proposed a Walk to his Guests, in the Gardens; and, after a few Turns, they sat down in a rural Arbour, that was interwoven, all about, with Jessamine and Honeysuckle.
Mr.
Meekly,
said the Earl, I have often longed to hear the Particulars of your Life, and how you came to live by Faith and not by Sight, and to hold your Conversation in Heaven, as you do at this Day.
I can soon obey your Lordship, answered
Meekly,
for my Story is very short and very simple, and no way adorned with uncommon Incidents.
My Mother died a few Hours after I was born. My Father did not survive her two Years; and I fell to the Care of my only Kinsman, an Uncle by my Father's Side.
My Uncle was an old Bachelor, and though he was of a cold Temper and had no Tenderness for any One, he yet spared no Cost in my Education. He sent me to
Eaton
School, and from thence to
Cambridge,
where I remained till I took my Degrees. I then went to
London,
bought a Sword and Sword-Knot, and commenced fine Gentleman.
Though my Head had been duly stored, by my Tutors, in the Rudiments of our Religion, my Heart had not yet felt any of its Precepts; and I conceived that, to go regularly to Church, receive the Sacrament, confess myself a miserable Sinner, and avoid gross Vices, was the Sum of Christianity. I therefore entered, without Scruple, into all the fashionable Pleasures and Vanities of the Age; and I held that, to pardon an Affront, would have been One of the deadly Sins, in a
Gentleman-Christian.
One Day, at
James
's Coffeehouse, Colonel
Stannard
and another Gentleman engaged, at Backgammon, for five hundred Guineas; and, as the Stake was so considerable, and both Parties celebrated for their Skill in the Game, we all crowded about them, to see the Issue.
I happened to be next behind the Colonel's Chair, and Others pressed behind me, eagerly bending and looking over my Shoulders. At length he began to fret, as the Game was drawing to a Close and going against him. Pray, Gentlemen, he would cry, don't bear upon me so; for Heaven's Sake keep off, you will make me lose the Game. Hereupon, I did my utmost to bear back from him, but the Company pressed me forward, in Spite of all I could do. Till the Colonel, giving an unhappily decisive Cast, turned about in a Fury, and spit directly in my Face.
Indignation gave me sudden and unusual Strength, and, casting All off who had borne upon me, I instantly drew my Sword and ran the Colonel through the Body. The Company cried out that all was fair, and opening a Window for me, they urged me to escape. Accordingly I got off, rode Post to
Dover,
and there embarked for
France.
The Colonel, God be praised, did not die of his Wound. He lay under the Hands of the Doctors for about seven Months, then recovered and went to join his Regiment in
Flanders.
Of this my Uncle sent me Advice, telling me at the same Time that I might return with safety. Yes, thought I, with safety to my Life, but with Death to my Honour! I have taken Revenge indeed, but not Satisfaction; the Colonel must be compelled to make me personal Reparation for the Affront which he dared to put upon me. His Recovery has again dashed the Spit into my Face; and I will pursue him through the World, till it is wiped from the Observation and Remembrance of all Men.
With this deadly Determination, I went Post, from
Paris
to
Flanders,
and traced the Colonel from Place to Place, till I found him in a Village, on the Road to
Amsterdam.
I believe, Sir, said I bluntly, you mayn't remember me, for our Acquaintance was sudden and of very short Duration; I am the Man in whose Face you spit publicly, at
James
's Coffeehouse. Then, Sir, said he, I am scarce yet recovered of the Cause which you gave me to bear you always in Mind; but pray, what may your Commands be with me, for the present? I am come to demand a Remedy, at your Hands, for the Wound which you gave my Honour, and which otherwise must remain for ever incurable. Ah, he cried, no Man ever exacted so severe a Satisfaction as you have already taken; what then may be the Nature of the further Reparation, that you are pleased to require? Either to ask my Pardon, or fight me within this Hour.
That is very hard upon me, indeed, replied the Colonel; the Honour of my Commission will not allow me to beg Pardon of any Man, at least in order to avoid a Combat; so Sir, if you insist upon it, I must obey your Summons, though very reluctantly, I confess. Then Sir, said I, meet me in Half an Hour, with your Pistols and Sword, behind yonder little Hill.
The Colonel was punctual to the Appointment. We both grasped a Pistol, at a Distance of twenty Paces, and advancing, Step by Step, cried fire! fire! fire! Each seeming determined to make sure of his Adversary; till, coming within Arm's length, I fired directly in his Face, but the Ball passed through his Hat, and only grazed the Skin of his left Temple.
The Colonel then took his Pistol into his left Hand, and reaching out his Right to me, with a Smile of great Complacence, I think Sir, said he, I may now ask your Pardon with Honour And to convince you that I did not come to engage You in Malice, be pleased to examine my Arms, you will not find so much as a Grain of Powder in the One or the Other.
Ah, Colonel, I then exclaimed, I acknowledge you my Conqueror both in Honour and Humanity. Had I been so unhappy as to kill you, and find your Arms unloaded, I should certainly have done you Justice, by shooting myself through the Head. But, why did I pursue you from Kingdom to Kingdom; why was I unappeased by all the Blood that I shed? was it from any Malignity of Heart toward you? by no Means; but, while I lamented the Misery I had already occasioned You, I was impelled to finish your Destruction, by a barbarian World, or rather, by the bloody Prescribers of Custom, whose Censure I dreaded, worse than Death, or even Futurity. Courage, Colonel, incites Soldiers to fight for their Country; but it is Cowardice alone that drives Duelists together.
For three affectionate Days, I remained with my late Enemy, but now warm Friend. He then was obliged to return to Quarters; and we parted, with a Regret much exceeding the Hostility with which we had met.
On the Departure of the Colonel I went to
Amsterdam,
from whence I drew upon my Uncle to the amount of Â£700. For I resolved, before my Return, to take a Tour through the Seven Provinces, though I had gone for a very different Purpose.
During nine Months I resided, or journeyed from Place to Place, among that People.
Holland
is, unquestionably, the wealthiest, the busiest, and most populous State upon Earth. Not a Hand is unemployed, not a Foot of Ground unoccupied; and, for a long time, I ascribed their extraordinary Prosperity to an Industry and Ingenuity peculiar to them alone. But, on further Observation, I discovered the true Source as well of their Industry as their Opulence, and am persuaded that any Nation, bordering on the Ocean, might derive the like Prosperity from the same Spring.
Not, my Lord, that I think Opulence a real Benefit to a People, for
Man's Life consisteth not in the Abundance of his Possessions.
But I look upon Industry, the natural Parent of Opulence, to be as well a Blessing as a Duty to Man, from the Time that he was appointed to
earn his Bread in the Sweat of his Brow.
Many mental Virtues, also, as well as temporal Benefits follow in the Train of Industry; it makes Men healthful, brave, honest, social, and pacific. He, who labours hard to acquire a Property, will struggle hard to preserve it, and Exercise will make him active, robust and able for the Purpose. As the Man of Industry hath, in himself, a living Fund of Competence for his own Occasions, he will be the less tempted to plunder or prey upon Others; and the poignant Sense and Apprehension of being deprived of a Property, so justly acquired, will give him the nicer and stronger Sense of such an Injury to Others. Industry further incites to Commerce and good Neighbourhood, in order to dispose of mutual Redundancies for the Supply of mutual Wants. And, lastly, it delighteth in Peace, that its Time and its Labours may not be interrupted, nor the Fruits thereof endangered, by Rapine and Invasion; and all this may be said of Nations, as well as of Men.
Your Observations, said the Earl, are perfectly just; the Works of Industry are, unquestionably, the Works of Peace, and tend to open the Avenues wherein the Virtues may walk. But, how to incite Men or Nations to Industry, that is the Question. The finer Arts, we see, may be encouraged and promoted by National Bounties, as now in
France;
but there is no inciting the Bulk of the People to Industry, in like Manner; that would be, as though the Public should grant a Bounty to itself. Nations certainly differ from Nations as Man differs from Man; Some are, by Nature, industrious and ingenious, such as
China
and
Holland,
it is their Propensity, their Talent; while Others, like
Ireland,
are naturally lazy and listless, and therefore remain in well merited Indigence.
You have greatly mistaken this Point indeed, my Lord.
China
and
Holland
are industrious and ingenious, because, whether it were through good Hap or good Policy, they hit upon the only Method whereby Industry and Ingenuity could be duly promoted. Whereas
Great Britain
and
Ireland
are totally ignorant of the said Method to this Day, though Both of them highly capable of having it put in Execution.
You surprise me, Mr.
Meekly,
said the Earl, a Method to make Men ingenious, a Method to make them industrious! how can that be?
Experience has proved it to be even so, my Lord; for where a Method may be found for encouraging and promoting Ingenuity and Industry, that Method will, infallibly, make People become both ingenious and industrious. No Man will work, my Lord, without some Hire, or Wages, or Return for his Labour; neither will Any, who are in Want, refuse to work, when assured of a due Reward for so doing.
When the good Housholder walked out to the Marketplace, and found Labourers loitering there, when it was now toward Evening, he asked them,
why stand ye here all the Day idle?
And when they answered,
because no Man hath hired or given us Employment,
he took this for a sufficient Apology, he had Compassion upon them, and he supplied them with the divinest of all Kinds of Charity,
the Means of earning their own Bread.
Now, throughout
China
and
Holland,
no Person is in Want, because All are hired, All employed, the Young and the Old, the Lame and the Blind; and All find a ready Sale, without Anxiety or Loss of Time, without Travel or Delay, for the Products of their Industry. Throughout
Great Britain,
on the contrary, Nineteen in Twenty are in real Want; and in
Ireland,
as I am told, Forty nine, in Fifty, are nearly in a State of Beggary, merely for want of being employed, for want of Encouragement to Labour.
Permit me, then, to explain to your Lordship, how some Men, and some Nations, come to be encouraged to Industry, and Others to be discouraged, or, in a Manner, prohibited from it.
Different Men are endowed with different Talents and Powers, insufficient in many Respects, though superfluous in Others, to their own Occasions. Different Countries are also endowed with different Productions, superfluous in many Respects to the Natives, though necessary or desirable for the Well-being of Foreigners.
Now, these alternate Qualities, of Deficiency and Abundance, at once invite and impel all Men, and all Countries, to claim and to impart that reciprocal Assistance which is denominated Commerce. Each gives what he can spare, Each receives what he wants; the Exchange is to the mutual Advantage of all Parties. And, could a Method be found out for encouraging Manufacturers to persevere in their Industry, and improve in their Arts, by a ready Conveyance and Sale of all their Redundancies, neither Want nor Superfluity could find Place upon Earth.
All this is quite clear and self-evident, Mr.
Meekly,
but how to procure this ready Sale is the Question.
Your Lordship must allow that the Way to procure it would be to bring Barterers and Commuters, Buyers and Sellers! All who mutually want and mutually abound, together. For this is the End and Purpose of every Market upon Earth.
Now, in
Great Britain
and
Ireland,
and in all Continents or inland Countries, the several Deserts, Mountains, Marshes, and other Obstacles, with the Difficulty, Danger, and Toil of Travel, and the great Expense of Land Carriage, have utterly precluded all Commerce and Communication to any considerable Extent. Insomuch that it would be easier and cheaper to convey a Commodity, of any Burden, to either of the
Indies,
than from many Parts of
Great Britain
or
Ireland
to Others, by Land.
While God appears to separate the several Nations of the Earth from Each other, by the Intervention of Seas, Lakes, and Rivers, he hath actually and intimately united them thereby.
WATER serves to the Art and Navigation of Man, as Air serves to the Wings of the feathered Species. It is the easy and speedy Medium, the ready Conduit and Conveyance, whereby all Redundancies are carried, and all Wants supplied. It makes Man, as it were, a Denizen of every Country on the Globe. It shortens every Distance, and ties the remotest Regions together. It carries and communicates the Knowledge, the Virtues, Manufactures, and Arts of each Climate to All. It gives new Springs and Motives to Industry, Action, and Invention. It gives a general Importance to the meanest Manufacturer. It gives to each Man an Interest in whatever is done upon Earth, the Productions of every Region, and the Tribute of every Nation.
Now,
China
and
Holland
are the only Countries upon Earth, who have considerably availed themselves of this capital Benefit of Water-Carriage, or Water-Commerce; and therefore they are, incomparably, the most populous and most prosperous of all Countries in the World.
China,
as your Lordship knows, extends from under the Tropic of
Cancer
to about thirteen hundred Miles
North,
and thereby contains within itself all the Variety of Climate, and Degrees of Heat and Cold, that are requisite for the sundry Productions upon Earth. Inspired by some Forecast, or Sagacity, not imparted to the rest of Mankind, they cut and quartered this vast Continent, by as many navigable Canals as answer to the Ducts and Veins in the human Body, for the Dispensation of Life and Nourishment. These Canals serve as Links or Chords to the grand Community of the
Chinese,
they bind Region to Region, House to House, and Man to Man, and hold the Whole as one System or Family together. This great Kingdom is, thereby, become as one City, and the Canals as so many Streets, through which Plenty is diffused by Commerce to every Part. If any Art or useful Invention commences or receives Improvement in any Place, it is immediately conveyed to every Place for Imitation and Promotion. No Portion of this wide Continent lies waste or uncultivated, because the Canals are as so many Markets brought to every Man's Door, and, by the perpetual Demand of whatever is saleable, incite the Natives to exert themselves in providing all the Redundancies they possibly can, that they may derive Wealth to themselves by supplying the respective Wants of Others. Thus, throughout the expanded Dominion of
China,
nothing is wasted, nothing lost, nothing superfluous, nothing wanting. All are employed, active, industrious, ingenious, and thriving. Their Canals are intimately to them, what Seas are diffusively to the rest of the Globe. They are thereby become, as a World within themselves, sufficient to their own Happiness and Occasions. They never change their Manners or Policy. They never enterprise War against Others. And
China
is affirmed at this Day, to contain one hundred and twenty Million of prospering Inhabitants.
The
Dutch
also, about a hundred and forty Years ago, followed the Example of the
Chinese.
Their Country is now become as one great and extended Metropolis to the Universe; and through their Canals as through paved and spacious High-Ways, the World resorts with all its Wealth. So encouraged and so incited, neither the Lame, nor the Blind, nor the Maimed, sit unemployed. Every Child is taught its Trade from the Moment it can apply its little Hands to a regular Motion, and they bring to the Parents vast Sums, in lieu of an infinite Variety of Toys and Trifles that are dispersed among the Idle of the other Children of Men. For, Barterers, and Commuters, Buyers and Sellers, Manufacturers and Merchants, like
Pyramus
and
Thisbe,
want nothing but the removal of envious Obstacles, to meet and to multiply a similar Progeny.
From what has been premised, my Lord, it is most evident, That Industry is the Parent of the Wealth of this World. That no Man's Industry is sufficient to his own Occasions. That the mutual Assistance denominated Commerce is, therefore, necessary to the Well-being of all People. That the reciprocal Advantage of this Commerce consists in supplying mutual Wants with mutual Redundancies. That this Commerce, however, cannot be carried on without a Medium for the Conveyance of such Supplies. That such a Medium, by Land, even where it is practicable, is tedious, toilsome, expensive, extremely discouraging, and cannot be pushed to any considerable Extent or Effect. That God, however, hath opened for the Purpose, an easy, speedy and universal Medium of Seas, Lakes, and Rivers, Part of which he hath left unnavigable, that Man might finish, by Art, what Nature had prepared, and contribute in some Degree to his own Advantages. That accordingly
China
and
Holland
(and
France
of late) have pursued the Path so divinely appointed, and that Power, Wealth and Prosperity have flowed in upon them, in Proportion as they have opened the Medium of Water-carriage for their Reception. And, that Causes which have produced their concomitant Effects, without Variation, from the earliest Ages to the present Period, must be presumed to produce the like Effects, through all Countries and Ages to the End of Time.
I protest, Mr.
Meekly,
exclaimed the Earl, you have pushed this Matter into mathematical Demonstration. What a happy, what a glorious Prospect now opens to my View! How easily, how speedily, how profitably might this Method be put in Execution, throughout the Earth! There is no Deficiency of Rivers, or collateral Streams for the Purpose. The Sinking into the Earth would give Vent to new Springs, and extract Plenty of Water in all Places for an inland Navigation; and Half the Number of Hands, that perish through War and Want, might be peacefully and plentifully employed in accomplishing this Weal of Mankind. Famine and Depredation would then cease. Nation would no longer rise up against Nation, nor Man against Man. The Earth, by Culture, would soon become capable of sustaining tenfold the Number of its present Inhabitants. We should no more be tempted to push Each Other from Existence. We should find ourselves mutually interested in preserving and multiplying the Lives of All from whose Labours we were to derive such Advantages. All would be Plenty, All Peace and Benevolence throughout the Globe. The Number of Inhabitants, instead of being a Burden, would then become the Riches of every Climate. All Hands would be set to Work, when thus assured of a Purchaser for every Effect of Labour. The Buzz of Wheels, Reels, and Looms; the Sound of Hammers, Files, and Forges; with the Shouts of Vintage, and the Songs of Harvest, would be heard in all Lands! I am quite astonished that a Work, so full of Benefit and Blessing to the Universe of Man, is not already commenced, advanced, and completed.
How comes this to pass, Mr.
Meekly?
Have You yet mentioned this Matter to Any of our Great Ones?
I have, my Lord, to Several. They confessed themselves convinced of the Utility of the Scheme; and, could Each of them be assured of engrossing to himself the most considerable Part of the Profits that would thereby accrue to the Public, the Work would instantly be begun, and would shortly be perfected. For, such is the Nature of unregenerate Man, that he grudges to Others any Portion of those Goods which he so eagerly craves and grapples after for himself. He would hedge in the Air, and make a Property of the Light. In Proportion as he sees his Neighbours in comparative Want, he exults in the Accumulation of imaginary Wealth. But, should he deem them, in a Measure, more prosperous than himself, he sighs at his inmost Soul, and grows wretched and repining.
I protest, cried the Earl, were I young, I would to Morrow Morning, at my own Cost, set about this great Work of national, or rather of universal Beneficence. But, my
Harry
here has Youth enough, with an Abundance of Benevolence also for the Purpose; and I recommend it to him as the greatest of Charities, a Charity to
Great Britain,
a Charity to Mankind. What would you think, my Lord, said
Harry,
of my expending your whole Drawer of Gold upon this Business? great as it is, it would be but a small Matter toward the Value of purchasing Peace upon Earth, and the Sons of Peace, upon Earth, will be likeliest to be the Sons of Love in Heaven. So that we cannot lay out our Money to better Advantage, in any Purchase for the Benefit of the Brothers of our own Frailty.
Alas, my Love, rejoined Mr.
Meekly,
though you were Master of Half the Wealth of the People of
England,
and were willing to employ the Whole for their Emolument in this Way, the People themselves would oppose you in every Step you should take. Some would be too proud to accept a Benefit from You. Others would tell you that no Man should dare to violate their Property with either Spade or Pick-Axe; and Others would indict you even for treading on their Grounds. Nothing less than the Act of the whole Legislature, to whom the People have committed their confluent Powers, can avail for an Undertaking of such National Import.
Then, my dear Mr.
Meekly,
be pleased to let me have, in Writing, what you have already set forth on this Head; and, if I live to come to the lower House of Parliament, I will bend all my Powers to this capital Charity. And, if no other Oratory will avail for the Purpose, I will bribe the Members with a hundred thousand Pounds, and corrupt them, if possible, into one Act of Patriotism
It is observable that, within ten Years, subsequent to the Period of the above Prouie, the INLAND NAVIGATION of
England
commenced. Since which Time, the River
Isis
has been made navigable from
Oxford
to
Cricklade
in
Wiltshire,
and to
Abington
in
Berkshire.
The River
Avon
in
Warwickshire
from
Stratford
to the
Severn.
The
Avon
from
Bath
to
Bristol.
The
Medway
from
Maidstone
in
Kent
to
Tunbridge.
The
Lug
in
Herefordshire
to the
Wey.
The
Lea
from
Ware
to the
Thames.
The River
Kennet
in
Berkshire
to the
Thames
at
Reading,
containing 20 Locks in 17 Miles. The River
Are
in
Yorkshire,
containing 16 Locks, whose Tolls are now valued at about Â£.10000 yearly. Beside the
Stroud,
the
Nen,
and the
Wey,
with many Others, now in Iland.
. But, Mr.
Meekly,
I interrupt You. Pray proceed in your Narrative.
On my Return to
Amsterdam,
from my Tour through the Seven Provinces, I grew affected, one Evening, in a Manner I had never before experienced. I did not feel myself any way sick or in pain, and yet I wished to exchange my Sensations for any other Species of Malady. I was wholly pervaded by a gloomy Despondence. I looked abroad for Comfort, but it was no where to be found, every Object gave Disgust to my discontented Imagination. I secretly enquired of my Soul, if Riches, Honours, Dignities, if the Empire of the World would restore her to Joy? But She turned from them and said, All these Things are Strangers, and Aliens to my Peace. Alas, said I, tell me then where your Peace may be found? I know not, she replied, but I feel that I am wretched.
For three Days I continued under this Oppression of Spirit. And on the third Night an increasing Horror, of deep and heavy Darkness, fell upon me. All Hope died within me, and Misery seemed to open a Gulf of ever deepening Destruction in my Soul. I lay all the Night, bathed in Drops of unutterable Anguish. I wished and struggled to arise and change my Situation, but I felt that my Mind was its own Place and its own Hell, from whence there was no Removal, no possible Escape.
I now concluded that, some how, I must have sinned beyond the Measure of all Sinners, since my Damnation was deeper than that of any Other. I therefore turned toward God and wished to repent; but, as I did not feel Conviction for the Sins of which I accused myself, no Place for Repentance was found in my Soul.
Tremendous Author! I cried, I find that thou can'st sink and slay at Pleasure, but can'st thou not also raise up and make alive? If all Things have their Existence in thee, O God! is it not near and easy unto thee to impart to us some Sensation of thine own Existence also? some Sensation of thine own Peace, the Sense that it is thou alone who can'st be our Sustainer? Save me,
Jesus,
save me from the Hell of mine own Nature! Save me, thou Son of
David,
O save me from Myself!
While I thus prayed in an Agony, my whole Frame was suddenly overpowered and sunk, as I suppose, into a State of Insensibility, till the following Day was far advanced. At length I perceived that I still existed.
I dreamed that I found myself in a deep and noisome Dungeon, without a single Ray that might even suffice to show me the Horrors of my Situation. I attempted to rise and grope about, but I perceived that I was tied and fastened down to Earth by a Number and Variety of Bands and Fetters.
At length a sudden Light appeared, and diffused itself throughout the Darkness of my Mansion. When, looking up, I observed that the Keeper of my Prison had entered, the Doors being yet locked. His Head, as I thought, was bound about with a Tiara, from whence the Glory arose that shone around me. In the Coronet, instead of Gems, were inserted a Number of Thorns, whose Points streamed with incessant and insufferable Brightness. And on the golden Circlet was engraved, in all Languages, JESUS OF NAZARETH KING OF THE JEWS.
Immediately my Shackles loosened and fell away of themselves, and I wished to cast my whole Existence under the Feet of my Lord, but was so overcome with Ecstasy that I could not rise. When, looking upon me with a Smile of ineffable Graciousness, he approached and took me by the Hand, and, at the Contact, I sprung up a great Height in my Bed, and awoke to Sensations of indescribable Blessedness.
You are come then, my Lord, my Salvation, you are come, my Master! I cried; and I will cling inseparably to you, never, O, never more will I suffer you to depart. Ah, I have felt, severely felt what it is to be without you. For, in your Absence, though but for a Moment, lies the Essence of Hell and Misery; but, in your Presence, my Beloved, in your Presence is Peace unspeakable, and Joy for ever more!
From that Day, my Nature became, as it were, wholly inverted. All the Honours and worldly Respects, for which I formerly risked my Life, were now my Aversion, and I turned from carnal Indulgence and Sensuality with Loathing.
Nothing could now affront, nothing could now offend me. As I totally despised myself, so I wished, after the Process of my divine Master, to be despised and rejected of Men. This made all others, the very meanest of human Creatures, respectable unto me. Even in Reprobates, methought, I discerned some unerased Traces of the Image and Superscription of my God, and I bowed down before it.
If Any attempted to injure, or defraud me of my Property, I yielded it without Variance, and thereby I found myself cordially enriched.
I grew weary of my own Will and of my own Liberty, and I earnestly prayed my Lord that he would rid me of them, and be, instead thereof, a controlling Principle within me, ever influencing and directing me according to his own Pleasure. Turn me,
Jesus
Master! O turn me, I cried, from all the evil Propensities of my own evil Nature, though thou should'dst turn me, as thou didst
Sennacherib,
with thy ruling Rein on my Neck, thy Bridle in my Mouth, and thy Hook in my Nose! Take my Heart and Affections captive, and into thine own divine Guidance! compel me into all the Ways and all the Works of thy Commandments; till thy Yoke shall become easy and thy Burden light and delightsome; till I shall move, as down a Descent, wherever thy Goodness would guide me; till I shall feelingly find and know that all thy Ways are Ways of Pleasantness, and all thy Paths the Paths of Peace!
This, my Lord, may look somewhat like Boasting, but it boasteth of Naught, excepting
Christ
crucified, or rather arisen in me, whereby all worldly Matters are crucified unto me.
Within about a Fortnight after my Conversion, I received a Letter from a Friend in
London,
informing me that my old Uncle had secretly married a young Creature, who was lately delivered of a Son. That he now openly acknowledged her for his Wife; and that this, as he feared, did not bode me any Good.
At another Time, these Tidings would have greatly alarmed me; but I was now equally resigned and indifferent to all Events.
In a few Days after, as I was stepping out of my Lodgings, I was arrested in the Name, and at the Suit of my Uncle, for Â£.700, the precise Sum for which I had drawn upon him about nine Months before. All the Consequences of this Caption immediately occurred to me. I perceived that my Uncle intended to deprive me of my Patrimony, in Favour of his new Family; and, as I had no Means for opposing his Machinations, save what lay in his own Hands, I concluded that a Jail was to be my Portion for Life. Wherefore, I lifted up my Heart and said, within myself, to Prisons and to Death give me cheerfully to follow thee, O thou who, in Death, art the Life and Resurrection!
My Spirit had no sooner uttered this short Ejaculation, than I felt such a Weight of Peace descending upon me, that my Heart leaped within me at the Prospect of Suffering, and I would not have exchanged my Prison for a Throne.
While I quietly walked with the Officers toward the Place of my Durance, they came to a great Tavern, where they entered and proposed to regale themselves at my Expense.
Mean time, a
Dutch
Merchant of great Eminence, happened to be, with his Lady, in the principal Room, and, hearing a Bustle in the House, he enquired the Cause, and sent for the chief Bailiff.
Soon after, I was conducted into their Presence. They Both rose as I entered; and the Gentleman, approaching, took me familiarly by the Hand and said in
Dutch,
Mr.
Meekly,
I hear You are in Distress, and that is sufficient to recommend you to my Services; but your Appearance exacts Something more from my Inclinations. Pray let me know wherein, and how far it may be requisite for you to command me.
I muttered Somewhat, as I suppose, inarticulately toward an Answer. For I protest, my Lord, I was so struck, so awed, so confounded, by his Presence, that I was lost, for the Time, to the Consideration of my own Affairs. Mean while he placed me at Table just opposite to the heavenly Vision of his Bride, and then went and resumed his Seat beside her; while I, gazing in Silence and utmost Wonder, recollected those Lines of
Milton
where, speaking of Adam and Eve, he calls them
  the loveliest Pair
  That ever since in Love's Embraces met;
  
Adam,
the goodliest Man of Men since born
  His Sons, the fairest of her Daughters,
Eve.    
The Gentleman perceived my Astonishment, and graciously smiling, again asked me what Sum was requisite to extricate me from my present Difficulty. Ah, Sir, said I, it is a Sum that far exceeds all human Bounty, and, indeed, I would not accept the Obligation from any Man, unless I were assured of being shortly in a Capacity to reimburse him, of which I see no Likelihood, I think no Possibility.
Here I told him, in few Words, how my Father had left me an Infant at the Disposal of my Uncle, who had now put me under Arrest for Â£.700, which, some time since, he had freely remitted to me, as in my own Right.
I see, said the Gentleman, your Uncle is a Villain, and means, by casting You into Prison, in a strange and distant Place, to deprive you of the Power of bringing him to Account. But he must be detected, it is a Justice which you owe to the Public, as well as yourself. And, as the Amount of the pretended Debt is not sufficient for that Purpose, here is an Order on the Bank in Town for double the Sum. For this you must give me your Note of Hand. Be pleased to reimburse me when it is your Convenience. If that should never happen, be under no Concern; for I hold myself already repaid with Usury, in the Opportunity of serving an injured and a worthy Man.
O Sir, I cried, I cannot, indeed I cannot, I will not accept it on any Account. I am patient, nay I am pleased with the Lot that is appointed me. Shall I, in an Instant, break the Yoke and cast the Burden which my gracious Master, but this Instant, has laid upon me? No, Sir, I submit myself to it with Thankfulness; I take his Cross to my Bosom and press it to my Heart.
O
Meekly,
said he, you are a very misdeeming Christian, if you think yourself entitled either to assume or retain your proper Crosses at will. There is too much of Self-Righteousness, in such a Zeal,
Meekly.
Humility would rather bid the Will of our Master to be done; and he offers you Enfranchisement by my Hand. Do, my dear Sir, cried the Angel beside him, do, let me petition, let me persuade you to accept this little Instance of our good Will to so good a Creature. Though my Lord here has not been able to prevail, a Lady has superior Claims, and I must not be refused.
Quite sunk, quite overwhelmed, I dropped involuntarily on my Knees before them. Blessed Pair, I exclaimed, blessed and beauteous beyond Expression; if Angels are like You, what Happiness must be in Heaven! I could no more, my Words were choaked by my rising Emotions.
My Benefactor then rose, and coming tenderly toward me, he took me warmly in his Arms. My
Meekly,
says he, do not oppress me, I pray you, by this Excess of Acknowledgment; I am but a worthless Instrument in the Hands of your Beloved; for from him, and him alone, is every good Gift, and even the Will of the Giver. O, Mr.
Meekly,
added the Lady, her Eyes glittering through Water, we thank you, we cordially thank you, Mr.
Meekly;
you have occasioned us much Pleasure this Day, I assure you; and the Means of our Happiness should be delightful in our Eyes.
My Patron then rung a Bell, and ordered his principal Gentleman into his Presence; when, putting the Order into his Hand, here, says he, take this, with the Bailiff, directly to the Bank; there pay him his Demand of Â£.700 and Fees; and bring me a hundred Pounds in Cash, and the Remainder in Bills on
London.
Then, calling for Pen and Ink, he drew the following short Note,
I owe You fourteen hundred Pounds.
To which I signed
Charles Meekly.
On the Return of the Messenger, I was put in Possession of the Cash and Bills, and a Dinner of little Elegancies was served up.
After a short Repast, the Decanters and Glasses being placed, and the Attendants dismissed, my two Patrons gave a loose to social Joy, and invited me to be a Partaker in their Festivity. Never was I, nor ever shall I again, be witness to such Flights of Fancy, such a spontaneous Fluency of Heart-springing Glee! with what Pleasure did Erudition cast off its formal Garb! how delightingly did Wisdom assume the Semblance and, at Times, the very Phrase of Childhood! they laughed, they rallied me, themselves, and the World. Their Merriment was as the Breaking forth and Exuberance of overflowing Innocence and Virtue. Conceive to yourself, my Lord, a large Room surrounded with Benches, whereon are seated the principal Philosophers, Literati, Lawyers, Statesmen, chief Captains, and chief Conquerors in all Ages; then think you behold two sportively observant Children in the Midst, looking and laughing at the Insignificance of the several Sages; taking off and holding up the Solemnity and Self-importance of each Profession in Caricature; and setting the whole World, with all its Wisdom, its Toils, and boasted Acquirements, its Solicitudes, Applications, and Achievements at naught.
The Gentleman, indeed, pretended, and only pretended, to defend the Sophists, the Valiant, and the Renowned of his Sex; but he evidently exulted in his own Defeat; while the Lady, with a Drollery amazingly valuable, ran through the Schools of Philosophy, the Systems of human Policy, and Histories of Heroism, unpluming the Crested, bringing the Lofty low, and depreciating and reducing all Magnitude to Miniature. And all this She did with an Archness of such pleasant Meaning; with such Looks, Eyes, and Attitudes of bewitching Transition, as would have infused Fascination into old Age and Ugliness; what then must it have done when accompanied by a Beauty that scarce ever was equaled, that could not be exceeded? Did the
Sarah
of the Patriarch
Abraham
resemble her, I wonder not that Nations should have been enamoured of her at the Age of Fourscore.
At length, the enraptured Husband; no longer able to contain, bent toward her with Looks of Soul-darting Delight, and, restraining his Arms that would have crushed her to his Bosom, O, my
Louisa,
he cried, You are too much, too pearly, too precious a Treasure for me! But, giving him a sweetly petulant Pat on the Cheek, away, you Rogue, she said, I'll none of your Mockeries!
What can Expression add further to this divinely preeminent of human Creatures? whatever was her present Glance, Aspect, or Posture, you would have wished to fix her in it, that you might gaze and admire for ever. But, when she varied the Enchantment of her Action and Attitude, you forgot the former Attractions; and She became as it were a Newness of ever rising Delight!
Alas, how transient, how momentary was the Bliss I then enjoyed! A Chariot and six pied Horses drove up to the Door, attended by a Retinue of ten or twelve Men, All armed, gallantly mounted, and in rich Apparel.
My dear
Meekly,
mournfully said my Benefactor, I am sorry that we are destined to different Departments. Hodge to night at a Villa belonging to one of my Correspondents, and To-morrow we set out to visit some of the
German
Courts. Fare, fare you well,
Meekly,
for a short Season at least!
I would have east myself at his Feet. It was an Emotion, a Propensity which I could not resist; but he prevented me, by kissing and casting his Arms affectionately about me. The Lady then turned to me, and, with a Smile of Heart-captivating Graciousness, God be with You, God be with You, my good Mr.
Meekly,
she cried, perhaps we may meet ere long in your own
England.
I answered not, but bending on one Knee, I caught her Hand, pressed it fervently to my Lips, and permitted her to depart.
Alas, they did depart. I saw them for the last Time. They mounted their Carriage, and being seated, they bent forward, and, bowing to me with a fixed Regard, off they drove, and tore away with them, as I thought, the best Part of my Soul.
I followed them with straining Eyes: when out of sight, methought I held them still in view; and I blessed and kissed, in Imagination, the very Ground over which they went. At length I awoke from my Delirium, and with slow and heavy Steps turned back into the House.
I had not yet, through Shame, so much as enquired the Name of my Benefactor. I therefore called to my Host, in order to inform myself of all that I could learn concerning him; as also to make out a Bill, for it had not been called for, and I pleased myself with the Thought of discharging a Reckoning that my Friends had forgotten. When I questioned my Host on this Head, he put his Hands to his Sides and broke into a violent Fit of Laughter; no, no, Master, said he, there's nothing for any One to pay in this House, I assure You; Mynheer never troubles himself about those Matters, his Major Domo pays all, ay, and for every Guest too that happens to be in the same Inn with his Master.
Why pray, said I, is he a Lord? A Lord, quotha? not so little as that comes to neither; no Sir, he is a Prince, the very Prince of our Merchants, and our Merchants are Princes above all Lords. And pray how do they stile or call him? He has many Names and Titles, when our Traders speak of him, they call him Mynheer
Van Glunthong,
but Others stile him my Lord of Merchants, and Others my Lord the Brother-Man, and my Lord the Friend of the Poor.
The Remainder of my Story is very short, and still more insignificant. I soon set out for
England,
in order to file a Bill against my Uncle, and compel him to discover what Patrimony my Father had left me. But God was pleased, in the mean Space, to cut off all Debate; his Wife and Child had died of an epidemic Distemper, and he did not survive them above a Fortnight. He left me a penitential Letter, with a small Will enclosed, whereby I became entitled to three hundred a Year in right of my Father, and an additional four Hundred in right of my Uncle, with a Sum of near three thousand Pounds in ready Money.
If I know my own Heart, the only Cause of rejoicing, that I felt on that Occasion, was that it put it in my Power to discharge my Pecuniary Obligations to my late generous Preserver. I immediately wrote and transmitted Bills to
Holland
for the Purpose, but the Bills were returned, and I could hear no Tidings concerning the Residence of my Patron. I then put out his Â£.1400 on the best Securities that I could procure. It is now close upon five and thirty Years since I saw him; and, in that Time, the Principal, with Interest upon Interest, yearly turned into Capital, has amounted to nearly five thousand Pounds, one Penny of which I never touch, but hold the Whole as sacred.
Mean Time, it has cost me Hundreds upon Hundreds in Correspondences, Advertisements, and even in special Messengers to several Parts of
Europe,
to discover where this Greatest, this most eminent of Men could have concealed himself; but alas, my Search proved as fruitless as that of the Miser in hunting after the Pearl of mighty Price!
During those five and thirty Years, the Image of the Persons of those my two gracious Patrons never left my Memory, were ever at my Heart. Ah, I would say to myself, they are dead, they are dead; or rapt, perhaps, like
Elijah
alive into Heaven; Flesh and Blood, resumed as theirs, might easily pass from its little Impurities, through the Fire of the Love of God, to the Place of its Bliss. And again it was my daily and ardent Petition, that, if their Mortal was not yet swallowed up of Immortality, I might once set my Eyes upon them before I died.
Here Mr.
Meekly
ended. --I thank you, my dear Friend, said the Earl, for your History; it has entertained me most pleasingly, and I have also been highly edified by some Passages in it. But, with Respect to the Glimpse that you had of your two wonderful Friends, I think it must have been a Vision, or merely a Matter of Imagination; for, I never saw in Nature, nor read in Fiction of any thing comparable to the Excellencies that you have described in that exalted Pair. If it was a Vision, my Lord, it must have been one of blessed Angels indeed; but I hope you will allow that the Benefits, which they conferred, were no way visionary. O, Mr.
Meekly,
said
Harry
with a Sigh, the Picture, that you have drawn of that dear Lady, has almost given me a Distaste to all the rest of her Sex. Ah, might I meet hereafter some Daughter, some Descendent, some distant Likeness of her, how happy should I think myself! May Heaven succeed your ominous Wish, my dearest Child, cried
Meekly!
It is just, perhaps prophetic that it should be so. For, never did I see so perfect a Resemblance between any two Creatures, as between the Consort of that bewitching Woman and yourself; it struck me, the other Night, the Moment you entered the Room; and I thought that I beheld my very Benefactor newly arisen, like a young
Phoenix,
from the Ashes of old Age.
Near a Fortnight more elapsed, without any News or Notice from Mr.
Clinton,
or from the Messenger who was sent dispatch for him.
Harry
daily advanced in the Favour and Familiarity of his Father. And Mr.
Meekly
continued with them in a most pleasing Society.
On a fine Morning, as they were walking together toward the Village, this is the first Time, my
Harry,
said the Earl with a Sigh, that I have ventured to turn my Face this Way, since the Death of my Wife and the Interment of your dear Brother. O my Lord, cried
Harry,
I would gladly exchange my Lot in Life with the meanest of yonder Cottagers, who earns his daily Bred by the Labour of his Hands, provided I might thereby restore them Both to your Bosom. Not so, not so, my Son, fervently replied the Earl, I would not lose my
Harry,
though I were thereby to resuscitate All that are dead in
England!
I have no Cause, no Manner of Right to complain; I am still happy, wonderfully happy, too happy in the Possession of such a Child!
Just then, a great Shouting and Uproar was heard in the Village. The huge Mastiff, belonging to
Peregrine Pelt
the Tanner, had run mad, and came foaming up the Road, pursued by thirty of the Townsmen, armed with Staves, Spits, and Pitchforks. The Dog rushed on at such a Rate, that there was no Possibility for our Company to escape him; and
Harry,
observing that he made directly toward his Father, threw himself full in his Way. Instantly the envenomed Monster sprung up and cast himself open Mouth upon our Hero; but
Harry,
with a wonderful Presence of Mind, having wrapped his left Arm in the Skirt of his Coat dashed it into the frothing Jaws of the terrible Animal, when, giving a Trip, at the same Time, to his hinder Legs, he threw him flat on the Ground, and, springing up into the Air, he descended upon him with all the Force of his Heels, and dashed his Bowels to Pieces; whereupon the Creature uttered a faint Howl, sprawled awhile, and expired.
The Earl and Mr.
Meekly
stood, yet a while, pale, astonished, and unassured; and my Lord, looking about in a Panic, cried, where is the Dog, what's become of the mad Dog? In the mean time the Villagers came on in full Pursuit, crying out, the mad Dog, the mad Dog, take Care of the mad Dog! But, when they All arrived, and beheld their huge Enemy looking formidable even in Death, never was Amazement equal to theirs. They stared at the Earl,
Meekly,
and
Harry,
in Turns; and seeing no Weapon in any of their Hands; God, cried Goodman
Demster,
God has been wonderfully gracious in your Deliverance, my Lord; for nothing less than a Thunderbolt could so suddenly have stricken this Monster dead. I protest, said the Earl, I was so much alarmed that I know not how it happened; I remember nothing further than that my dear Child here thrust himself between his Father and Danger. But I beheld, said
Meekly,
when, with one Stroke of his Arm, he dashed the Creature to the Ground, and then instantly crushed him to death with his Feet. Not I, Mr.
Meekly,
modestly replied
Harry,
God gave me Strength, for the Season, in Defence of my Father. But are you not bit, are you not hurt, my Child, cried the Earl, coming up tremblingly to his Son? Not touched, indeed, my Lord. Glory for that in the Highest, exultingly cried the Earl!
I knew, exclaimed
Tom Truck,
with a Shout and Look of Triumph, I knew it could be no Other but my brave and noble young Master who did the Feat. On my Life, cried Farmer
Felster,
he is able, with his naked Arm, like another young
David,
to save his Lambs from the Jaws of the Lion and the Paws of the Bear.
Though these Praises served only to put our Hero to Confusion, they went trickling, like Balm of
Gilead,
to the Heart of his Father.
Pelt,
said the Earl, let it be your Task to flea and tan me the Hide of your own Dog. I will have his Skin stuffed with Incense, and his Nails of solid Gold; and he shall hang up in my Hall, from Generation to Generation, to commemorate the Piety and Prowess of my Son! Mean while, my good Friends, I invite you All, with your Families, Kinsfolk, and Neighbours, to come and feast with me this Day. Sorrow hath endured her Night; but Joy cometh, with my Child, and ariseth on us as a new Morning!
In the Afternoon, all the Towns-Folk and Neighbours, with their Wives and Children, convened to the great House, having their Cattle and themselves heavy laden with Faggots, for a magnificent Illumination. The whole Court was spread with Tables, and the Tables with Victuals and Liquors; beside two Hogsheads of
October
that stood apart.
The Earl, in the Joy for his own Escape, and the recent Prowess of his young Hero, went forth with a cheerful Countenance and graciously welcomed all his Guests; whereat, they wished Health and long Life to his Lordship and their young Lord, and, giving a joint Huzza, sat down to their Banquet. From whence, after a Night far spent in Carousal, their great Fire being out, and their great Hogsheads exhausted, they peacefully helped Each-Other to their respective Homes; regretting, however, that they had not been honoured with the Presence of their young Master among them. For
Harry
had besought his Father to dispense with him, yet awhile, from partaking in any Party or Scene of Festivity, especially when appointed in his own Honour; and Mr.
Meekly
highly approved and applauded his Motion.
On the Eve of the following Day, Mr.
Meekly
rode abroad on a charitable Visit to a dying Man in the Neighbourhood; and my Lord was fondly toying and patting the Cheek of his Darling, as they stood at the Hall Door; when
Harry
spied a mourning Coach turning up the lower End of the great Avenue, and instantly cried out, there's my Uncle, my Lord, my Uncle, my dearest Uncle! and off he shot like Lightning. The Coach drove but slowly,
Harry
was up with it in a Twinkling, and vaulting in at the Window, was, in the Instant, in the Bosom of his best Friend and Patron.
In the mean time, the Earl had retired into the House in great Agitation. He feared and was jealous of the Manner in which his Brother would meet him; and this gave him equal Doubt and Hesitation respecting the Manner in which he ought to receive his Brother. Mr.
Clinton,
on the other Hand, was not wholly without some similar Emotions; so that, when
Harry
introduced his Uncle into the Parlour, no two noble Personages could salute Each other with a more distant Respect.
The Earl, however, on casting a Glance upon the Face of his Brother, felt a Tide of returning Affection, and lifting up his Hands and Eyes, exclaimed, it is he, it is he! my
Harry,
my
Harry Clinton!
my dear, my long lost, my long sought Brother! then hastened forward, in a Gush of Passion, and caught him in his eager Arms. When Mr.
Clinton,
alternately folding the Earl to his Bosom, cried, I am content, O my God! give me now to depart in Peace, since at last, I find, and feel that I have indeed a Brother!
Our Hero, observing the Violence of their Emotion, interposed with a gentle Care, and supporting them to Seats, placed them tenderly by each other.
For a while they Both sat silent, with a Handkerchief at their Eyes; till the Earl turned, and plaintively said, you don't forgive me,
Harry Clinton;
you never will, you never can forgive me, my Brother! Whereupon, Mr.
Clinton
caught up the Earl's Hand to his Lips, and, pressing it with a fervent Respect, cried, my Brother and my Lord, my Brother and my Lord!
O then, said the Earl, you do forgive me, I find; but, never can I, never will I forgive myself. My Faults toward you, my noblest Brother, for these many long Years have been ever before me; my Neglects, my Pride and Insolence, my contemptuous Treatment of One, so highly my Superior; of my
Harry,
the only Boast and Glory of our House!
Mean while, our Hero stood aloof with his Head averted, weeping and sobbing with evident Agitation. Till Mr.
Clinton
cried, no more, my Brother, no more, I beseech you! It is already too much; I cannot bear my present Excess of grateful Affection for you; it struggles to rush forth, but Utterance is not given. Beside, we shall break the Heart of our dear Child there; his Nature is too tender to support such a Scene as this.
Harry
then smilingly turned his Face, toward his Parents, all shining through Tears, as the Sun in a Shower. And advancing, and kneeling before them, as they sat; he took the Hands of Each, alternately, and pressed them in Silence to his Lips.
In about an Hour after, while their Affections were still at the highest, but their Spirits somewhat composed, Mr.
Meekly
returned. The Earl immediately rose, and advancing, took him by the Hand with a cordial Familiarity. Mr.
Meekly,
says he, I shall now have the Pleasure of introducing you to that inestimable Brother of whom you have heard me speak so often; Brother, this is Mr.
Meekly,
my best and worthiest Friend!
Mr.
Clinton
rose and advanced; and
Meekly
approached with an abased Reverence, not venturing to look up, but saluted him, as he would have saluted an Angel of Light!
Meekly, Meekly,
cried Mr.
Clinton,
I have surely heard that Name before! Pray, Mr.
Meekly,
were you ever abroad? have you travelled, Sir? were you ever in
Holland,
Mr.
Meekly?
Here,
Meekly
started, as awake by the Sound of a Voice, whose recollected Tunings went thrilling to his Heart; and lifting up his Eyes, and beholding the Traces of Features, once so lovely, and ever deeply endeared to his Memory; he started, and staggering back some Steps, he sunk down on a Chair behind him, almost in a fainting Fit.
The Earl, greatly alarmed, went up, and taking him by the Hand, what is the Matter, my Friend, says he? are you taken suddenly ill, are you not well, my
Meekly?
O, my Lord --he pantingly cried --there he is --as sure as I live --my Patron --my Benefactor --the wondrous Man that I told you of --there he stands, in his own precious Person before us!
Mr.
Clinton
then approached, and, taking a Seat beside him, leaned toward him with a melting Complacence. Mr.
Meekly,
said he, I expected ere this to have embraced you in Heaven; but I rejoice to meet you even on Earth; for I have ever retained a very affectionate Impression of you; and I more especially rejoice to meet you in the present Society.
But then --but then you come alone --you come alone, my Lord and Master! --Alas, you wipe your Eye! --O then, it must be so! --And here he broke into a passionate Gush of Tears.
My Lord and our Hero, hereupon, recollecting the engaging Circumstances of a Character, on whose Description they had been so lately enamoured, could not refuse their Tribute to the Memory of that admirable Lady, to whose Person they now found themselves endearingly attached by Affinity.
At length Mr.
Clinton,
distressed to the last Degree for the Distress in which he saw the forlorn
Meekly,
sweetly turned from his own Affliction to the Consoling of that Friend whom he found so deeply afflicted for him.
Mr.
Meekly,
says he, let us not weep for the Living, but rather for the Dead! for those who are yet in the Vale of Mortality. Shall we mourn the Condition of Angels, shall we lament that a Weight of Glory is fallen on those whom we loved? No, let us rather rejoice in the Prospect of being speedily Partakers!
When Supper was over,
Harry
laid hold of the first Interval of Converse, to enquire after his Friends in Town, more especially Mr.
Clement,
his
Arabella,
and their little
Dicky.
They are come, said Mr.
Clinton,
to sudden and great Affluence. Old
Clement
is thoroughly reconciled to his Son, and is dotingly fond of
Arabella
and her Child. I am glad of it with all my Heart, cried
Harry,
clapping his Hands; but pray, how did this Matter come about, Sir? By an Event, my Dear, in which the Arm of Providence was signally visible. But, before I say how it came to pass, you ought to give our Company a short History of this worthy Family, they will then become interested in their Success.
Harry,
willingly and gracefully, performed the Task enjoined him; and then his Uncle proceeded.
The second Day after you lest me, a Man of a genteel Appearance, but pale and bleeding, was carried, stretched on a Door, by some of our charitable Townsmen, and brought to my House. I was then abroad with
Clement
on a Visit to your old Friend
Vindex;
but the Stranger was instantly admitted; and, while some of the Servants rode off for a Surgeon, others tenderly undressed and put him into a warmed Bed.
Soon, after I had returned and was informed of what had passed, the Surgeon arrived, and, putting five Guineas in his Hand, I desired him to attend his Patient and bring me Word of his Estate. In Half an Hour he came forth and, shaking his Head, said, our Patient, Sir, will not do. He is wounded in the Groin with a Pistol Bullet. The Ball has got within the Abdomen, my Instruments will not reach it, and, if it has entered the Viscera, he will die of Convulsions in less than three Hours. I have accordingly told the Gentleman what I thought of him, and advised him immediately to settle his worldly Affairs. He tells me his Name is
Saint-Belial,
and he requested me, as soon as I reached
London,
to send Mr.
Clement
to him, who lives over against the blue Posts on the Strand.
The Name of
Clement
made me curious to know who the Party was, and, entering his Chamber, I took a Chair and sat down softly by the Side of his Bed. But, the Moment that I cast my Eye on his Visage, I shrunk inward at the Shock; for all the Malignity and Horrors of Hell were jointly legible on his Countenance.
Humanity, however, compelled me to address him. I am sorry to hear, Sir, said I, that you are not for this World, but I trust that your Hope looks forward to a better Home. I have no Hope, said he, save such as my Faith has been, that, since I must die, I shall die wholly.
I protest, I was so stunned and disconcerted by the Words and Looks of the Man, that I found no Answer, and he proceeded.
As I have no further Concern with this World, I have sent for an old Gentleman with whom I had some Connections, and resolve to do an Act of Justice before I die, the only One that ever I did during my Life-time. For, your Charity, and that of your People, has half frightened me into a Notion, that there may be something of that, which is called Goodness, upon Earth; and then how fearful, how tremendous must my Situation be! Wherefore, as old
Clement
may not arrive in Season, I will, with your Permission, inform you of such Things as concern him. For, as I have nothing to hope, through all Eternity, neither have I any thing to fear on this Side of it.
My Father's Name was
Belcher Saint-Belial.
He was an under Retainer to the Law, and raked up a little Fortune by sidelong Practices; so that he grew ambitious of preferring me, his only Child, to the Bar, and, in that View, sent me to School, and from School to
Oxford
College. But, I ought to have began my History earlier.
If there are Devils, I surely had One before I saw the Light, and was filled with the evil Spirit from my Mother's Womb; insomuch that my Nurse died of a Cancer in her Breast occasioned by the envenomed Bites I gave her Nipple, with my toothless Gums, while she suckled me.
While an Infant, I took a heart-felt Pleasure in dismembering Flies and impaling Worms alive upon Pins; and, when at School, I was the Promoter of all Parties for worrying and torturing Cats and Dogs to death. But my principal Amusement lay in catching and fleeing Frogs, in seeing them spring about in the Rage of their Pains, and so leaving them to perish in unutterable Anguish.
As I grew in Stature, I grew also in the Strength of my Malignity. Evil became my Good. My Enjoyments lay in the Loss, Damage, and Detriment of Others. I conceived a Kind of envious Hate against Those who had done me a Benefit. I requited open Friendship with hidden Malevolence; and I cannot remember that ever I felt a Sense of any thing that goes by the Name of Gratitude, Humanity or Virtue.
I usually carried about me a walking Stick or Cane, in the hollow Part of which an Iron Spike was contained, which I could cause to spring forth with a Shake of my Arm, and again return to its Case, at Pleasure. With this, as I strolled the Fields, which I often did for the Purpose, I stabbed the Cattle of the Neighbours in the Belly or Fundament, and chuckled to see them leap, and kick, and plunge about in their Agonies. In short, I drew to myself a Kind of Comfort from a Comparison with the Miseries that I inflicted on other Creatures; and, had the Elements been at my Controul, nothing but Pest and Hurricane, Distemper and lingering Death should have arisen and prevailed throughout the State of Nature.
At the College I got acquainted with one
Clement,
a gentle tempered but weak Lad, of whom I made a Property. And I prevailed upon him to turn away several of his Servants, under Colour of their having stolen the Cash, Books, and other Effects, of which I had secretly plundered him.
At length I had private Intelligence that my Father had been pilloried for Forgery and other double handed Dealings; that he had died of the Bruises which he received on the Execution of his Sentence; and that his Effects had been seized by a Variety of Claimants. Whereupon, without taking any Notice of my Father or Family, I made my shortest way to
London,
with All that I could borrow or lay a light Hand upon among my Acquaintance.
The first Thing I did, at the City, was to wait upon old
Clement,
the Father of my Friend, with a forged Draught upon him for a hundred Pounds; on the Sight of which, he so fretted, and exclaimed, and walked about in such Perturbation, that I greatly feared I had overshot my Mark. At length, however, he laid me down the Money, but catching up a Book, swore that it was the last Penny his Son should receive from him for six Months to come.
He then began to question me touching the Character of the young Gentleman, and, under Colour of praising him for Articles to which I perceived the old Man had an Aversion, I exasperated him to such a Degree, that he again swore he would hold no further Correspondence with him, until he should be fully assured of his Reformation.
Having thus effectually cut off all Commerce between my Friend and his Father, I cast aside my Fears of being suddenly brought to Account for my late Acquisition. I was even so daring as to take Lodgings the very next Door, where I got in League with a young Woman of a most seducing Face and Person, but whose Profligacy of Manners was, artfully, covered by the most artless Appearance of shamefaced Innocence that ever graced the feigned Character of any Actress, on any Stage.
She did not attempt, however, to impose upon me, for kindred Minds, like Ours, instantly saw into Each Other; and we soon concerted a Plan for her marrying Goodman
Clement,
and dividing the Spoils of the old Miser between us.
This we easily brought about, and never was Man so happy, in being so imposed upon, while I shared with him in the Possession of his Purse and his Bride.
In the mean time, as I had promised to procure him Intelligence concerning his Son, I produced several forged Letters from pretended Correspondents in
Cambridge,
containing such Accounts of the Gallantries and other Extravagancies of young
Clement,
as wholly alienated his Father's Affections from him, and he sent him a final Note, whereby he discarded him from his Fortune for ever.
About two Years thus passed, in the full Enjoyment of All that could glut Flesh and Blood; though, in order to ingratiate myself with the old Man, I appeared to him the most frugal and abstemious of Mankind. But, one Night, while Mrs.
Clement
and I sat together, indulging ourselves in the Hope that the good Man had been knocked on the Head, or had fallen dead of an Apoplexy; He was brought to us in a Chair, pale and wounded, and told us that he should have been certainly murdered, had he not, by the most wonderful Providence, met with his Son, who bravely knocked down the Robber and happily delivered him; and that he had given him what Cash he had about him, with a Note for Â£. 500, on the Bank.
All in a Panic, and thunderstruck as I was by this News, I yet pretended to congratulate him on the Return of his Son to Duty, but advised him to Bed directly for the Recovery of his Health and Spirits.
The Remainder of the Night, I walked about, agonizing, and racking my Brain for some Expedient to divert the instant Ruin that impended, when a sudden Thought started, or was rather infused into me, and, at Dawn of Day, I went to an Agent, who had done several Jobs for me, of no very laudable Tendency.
When I had given him his Lesson, and put twenty Guineas into his Hand, he hastily went and desired to see Mr.
Clement,
on Business of great Consequence, when, falling on his Knees, he confessed, with appearing Penitence, that he was the Person who had wounded him the foregoing Night; that he did not intend to hurt him so much, but that young Mr.
Clement
had hired him for the Purpose, and lay in wait hard by, in order that he might appear to come in to his Rescue.
This Tale was so feasible, that the old Man swallowed it, as a greedy Fish swallows the Bait that, at the same time, conveys the Barb into his Bowels. He thereupon had me called to him in a Hurry, told me what he had discovered, and gave me an Order to stop Payment of the Â£.500, with a hasty Note to be left at the Bank for his Son.
On the Way, I recollected an Advertisement in the public Papers that offered a large Reward for the Caption of one
Arabella Clement,
who had been guilty of the Murder of the late Lord
Stivers;
and it instantly occurred to me that She was probably the Wife of my quondam Friend and Patron. Wherefore, as soon as I had dispatched my Business at the Bank, I ran and collected a Number of Constables, and waited with them aloof, till I saw the Object, whom I dreaded and detested above Plague and Poison, enter and return discontented from the Counting-House. We then dogged him at a Distance till we saw him safe lodged and, following softly up Stairs, we demanded a Woman who stood before us for our Prisoner.
Young
Clement
then, all enraged, exerted himself with wonderful Action and Intrepidity. With one Stroke of a Poker, he tore off my right Ear and cleft my Shoulder to the Bone; then drove us All down Stairs, though several Shot were fired at him.
What happened to him afterwards I knew only from Report, for I lay ill of my Wounds for several Months together, and on my Recovery, could learn no Tidings concerning him.
In the mean Space, my continual Fears of his Appearance made my Life extremely miserable. My Paramour and I had often Thoughts and Consultations touching the Expediency of making away with the old Gentleman; but it occurred to us that young
Clement
might still be alive and, on the Death of his Father, might bring us to a severe Account for his Substance.
At length, about six Weeks ago, as I returned from transacting an Affair at
St. Albans,
I met, and instantly recognized my old Enemy, walking with a young Gentleman, about a Mile above this Town. Immediately I stopped, and, pulling my Hat over my Eyes, pray Gentlemen, said I, am I on the right Road to
London?
for I have travelled far, and fear I may have gone astray. You are on the direct Road, said the Lad, but if you choose to stop short, you are heartily welcome to a Lodging with us for the Night. Why, Gentlemen, said I, do you live in yonder Town? We do, said
Clement.
In that Answer I had all the Intelligence I desired, and away I spurred.
From that Time, scarce a Day passed wherein I did not take an Airing on the same Road, still expecting and panting to meet my Adversary. I rode armed with one Case of Pistols before me, and Another in my Pockets; and I determined, though I should meet
Clement
in the Midst of a hundred Men, to shoot him directly through the Head, and trust to the Speed of my Horse for my Escape. But, this Day, as I returned near the farther End of the Town, a white Goat, pursued by a Dog, rushed suddenly through a Hedge, whereupon my Horse plunged, and one of the Pistols that was ready cocked in my Waistcoat Pocket went off, and reduced me to the Condition in which you behold me.
His last Words were scarce intelligible. He was seized with Convulsions and lay speechless near two Hours. At length old
Clement
arrived; his Servants helped him out of his Coach; I met him in the Hall, and led him into the Parlour.
There, being both seated, I succinctly gave him the Heads of
Saint Belial
's History. When, looking earnestly at me, you appear, Sir, said he, to be much of the Gentleman, but, if you were an Angel, I would credit nothing against the Honesty of that good Young Man; and least of all to the Prejudice of the dear young Innocent that I have married.
I confess I was somewhat piqued at this sudden Rebuff; but, suppressing the Tendency that I had to Resentment, I wish, said I, you had come Time enough to be present at the unhappy Man's Confession, but it may yet please God to open your Eyes to your own Wrongs before he expires.
So saying, I conducted him to the Room where the Wretch lay, to all Appearance, insensible. I then recollected an approved Elixir that I had in my Closet, and sending for it, I infused a Tea-spoon full, Drop by Drop, into his Mouth.
In a Quarter of an Hour he came perfectly to his Senses, and, turning his languid Eyes toward the old Man, You are come then, said he, to hear my dying Words. --I forged the Note for which you gave me a hundred Pounds --I forged all the Letters that you received to your Son's Prejudice --I was the Father of the Child which the Strumpet, with whom you live, brought into the World --She is not your Wife --She is Wife to
Caleb Cable
the Boatswain, who lives by the Monument. --He has got Hundreds of your Money for keeping Counsel --It was, in truth, your Son who rescued you from the Hands of the Robber --I forged the Tale, and bribed the Man who deceived you in that Matter --Often, as you lay in Bed,
Moll Cable
has urged me to dispatch you before Morning --Had I murdered your Son, as I long since intended, you should not have survived him four and twenty Hours.   
Here, turning his eager and ghastly Visage upon me, O Sir, said he, is there, is there, for certain, a judgement to come? Alas! I answered, Death, judgement, Heaven, and Hell, are the four capital Things of which the Universe affords the highest and deepest Assurance. O, then, he cried, I am going, down! down! down!
This he spoke with all the visible Horrors and Desperation, conceivable in
Judas,
when just about fixing the Rope to his Neck; and, lapsing into his last Agonies, he soon after expired.
All pale and astonished, the old Gentleman sat silent and panting; and, seeing he was about to faint, I ordered some Drops and Water, with a Bottle of Wine, while I supported him from falling.
When he was somewhat restored, and had recovered his Speech, he laid hold on my Hand and said, I beg your Pardon, Sir, I would do it, if I were able, upon my Knees. But, who could have thought this ?    I wish that I had indeed been murdered  I would that I had died, before I was thus undeceived in the only Objects of my Love.    Alas, Sir, I have now no Relation, no Kindred, no Friend except yourself upon Earth. All Others are equally Plunderers and Murderers in my Eyes.    These Words were interrupted by a Flood of Tears.
Having consoled him in the kindest Manner I could, Word was brought that Dinner was served, and I led him, partly by Constraint, to the Table; but whispered private Orders that
Arabella
and her
Dickey
should not appear, for
Clement
staid to dine with his Friend
Vindex.
After Dinner and three Glasses, which was all I could force upon him, I remonstrated the Expediency of his immediate Return, to secure his Effects; lest all should be spirited away upon any Intimation of the present Accident. Ah, Sir, said he, I shall scarce, I fear, be able to bear the Sight of a Place in which I so long thought myself so very happy; but if you will be so gracious as to accompany me I will venture. I will, said I, on Condition, that you engage to return and sleep here this Night.
Early in the Afternoon we arrived at his House, in my Coach, attended by his two Servants and Four of mine, well armed. As we entered the Parlour, his supposed Wife rose in an Alarm that she evidently endeavoured to suppress. What is the Matter, Love? said she, advancing; for what did
Saint Belial
send to you? it became him much better to have attended on You, methinks. I fear my Love is sadly tired. But, pray, what did he want with you? To tell me, answered old
Clement,
that he was a dying Man, that I was a Dupe and a Cuckold, and that you were a Strumpet.
Of ye, Love, said she, those are very naughty Names; but you cannot be in earnest.
Step, said he, and enquire of
Caleb Cable
the Boatswain; tell him, at the same time, that I cannot afford to maintain his Wife any longer, and that he has seen the very last of his hush Money. Ah,
Polly, Polly,
he continued, meltingly, all this I could almost away with; but Murder is a frightful Thing; who could think that my
Polly
would murder her old Man?
O then, she cried, I see that the Villain has betrayed me. I see that I'm undone. My Youth and Beauty cast away, my Arts and Time spent in vain! Why, you doting, driveling Wretch, your Fortune was little enough to compensate the Pains I took in disguising my Aversion to you. But, you shall not live to triumph in my Disappointment.
So saying, she sprung forward and, grasping his Neck in both her Hands, he instantly grew black in the Face, his Eyes rolled, his Jaws expanded, and he must have expired on the Spot. But I stepped hastily to her and, seizing both her Wrists, I gave them a sudden Wrench, whereupon she loosed her Hold, shouting out that her Arms were broke, and throwing herself, groaning, into a Chair, she called for instant Perdition on me, the crazy Dotard, herself, and all the World.
In the mean time, the old Gentleman had sunk panting to the Floor. But, raising him gently, I placed him on a large Sofa, where he began to respire with Freedom.
I then sent for a Sergeant at Mace and his Attendants, and giving our Heroine, with a Mittimus into his Hands, I desired him to provide her with a decent Room and suitable Accommodations, and not to admit any Company, except her Servant, till further Orders. Ay, away with her, away with her, at any Rate! exclaimed the old Man, she has the Looks of a very
Gorgon,
and every Hair of her Head is turned into a frightful Serpent.
As soon as she was gone, I called her principal Maid and, putting a few Pieces into her Hand, I desired her to follow her Mistress and to serve her with Care and Tenderness; and further to intimate to her that, when she gave any Proofs of Repentance and Reformation, she should yet be humanely and generously provided for.
Having thus far settled Matters, I gave Commission to
James
and
Andrew,
with a male Domestic in whom the old Man confided, to remain and take care of the House and Effects; and, taking the Keys of the Cabinets with us, we set off on our return to
Hamstead.
On the Way, Mr.
Clement
grew deeply dejected, and sighing said, O Sir, how strong, how very strongly is the Desire of Society impressed on the human Heart; when, even in the Absence of Robbers and Murderers, I feel a Want and Disconsolation that I cannot express. I have now no Relation, no Friend but Yourself, no Kindred or Connection with any Other upon Earth. To You, indeed, I owe my Life, and all else that I am worth; and, if you will not chase me from You, if you will allow me to remain with You, You shall be all the World to me, the Heir and sole Possessor of all that I possess.
But, have You not a Son? I cannot think I have, said he; it is now above eight Years since I set Eyes on my dear
Hammel,
the precious Pearl whom, in my Dotage, I madly cast away. But, were he still living, after what is past, I could never more have the Courage to look him in the Face. A cruel and a false Pelican have I proved to my Little One; instead of fostering him with my Vitals, I have withheld and torn from him even the common Means of Life.
Do you know None of your Name, said I, who may claim your Substance under Colour of being of your Blood? Not Any, Sir; my Father was a Foreigner, and I never heard of any Other of the Name in this Nation.
There is One of your Name, said I, who lives in our Town. But then, he is in flowing Circumstances, quite above the Desire of increasing his Fortune by base or low Means. He is my most intimate Friend, a very accomplished Gentleman, and has one of the finest Women to Wife, and two of the loveliest Children that I have seen. If you please, I will invite and introduce them to You, to Night, or to Morrow.
On our Arrival, I left old
Clement
a while in the Parlour, while I stepped to give private Directions respecting the Conduct of your Tutor,
Harry,
and the Interview which I proposed between him and his Father.
Sir, said I as I returned, I have taken the Liberty to invite your Namesakes to sup with You. They are a very amiable Family, and I hope that their Company and Acquaintance will prove a Matter of Consolation, perhaps a Blessing to You. Ah, he cried, my Claims are of a very different Nature; I have no Right to Blessings or Consolations of any Kind.
Some time before Supper, a Rapping was heard, and
Arabella
entered, leading in a little Daughter of about four Years old, and followed by her Son,
Dickey,
All elegantly dressed.
Madam, said I, this is a Namesake of Yours, my worthy Friend Mr.
Clement,
pray let me have the Pleasure of introducing You to each Other.
When they were both seated, the old Gentleman took out his Perspective, and, peering at her for some Time, ah, he cried, what lovely Faces there are in the World, but All have not proved lovely throughout, like You, Madam.
He then called
Dickey
to him, and taking him by both Hands, and bringing him forward between his Knees; what is your Name, my Dear, says he?
Richard Clement,
Sir, so please You. I would it were
Bartholomew,
replied the old Gentleman; but Names signify nothing, You are a sweet little Fellow, and perhaps may be something the better for my Death. I would not wish your Death, Sir, said
Dickey,
for All that I could get by You. O, how very heavenly, exclaimed the old Man, how heavenly is the Simplicity and Disinterestedness of Infants!
He next requested
Arabella
to spare her little Daughter to him, for a Minute; and she accordingly took and led her to him: When, fondly caressing her, and seating her on his Knee, Could you find in your Heart, says he, to love such an ugly old Thing as I am? Yes, me could, says she, and me has got some Comforts for you in my Pocket. Whereupon she produced a little Paper and, unfolding it, presented him with some candied Seeds and Almonds. O, my God, cried the old Man, what a Heaven I should yet enjoy upon Earth, could I but purchase the Society of these dear Infants !    I heard him, with a moistening Eye, and rejoiced in the ripening Fruits of my little Project.
Pray, Madam, says I, what is become of our good Friend your Husband, are we not to have the Happiness of his Company to Night? Sir, says she, he was engaged on indispensable Business at the Time, but will certainly attend you before Supper.
She had scarce spoke when a second Rapping was heard, and in came our
Hammel,
not in gay but costly Apparel, as I had appointed.
On introducing the Son, to his venerable Father, they respectfully saluted Each other as utter Strangers. For, our present
Hammel
was more different from the meagre and threadbare
Hammel
that his Father had last seen, then
Pharaoh
's fat Kine could be from his lean Ones.
During Supper, and after, I purposely threw out occasional Topics, and gave several Opens, wherein I knew that
Hammel
could shine; and he accordingly made Use of them with great Spirit and Advantage.
His Father gazed at him with a respectful Admiration, and at length exclaimed, You are an Ornament, an Honor, Sir, to your Name, to your Lineage, and the Country wherein you were born. But pray of what Family? Alas, Sir, you add Stings to the Recollection of my Faults this Day: I once had a Son, a Son who, in an humble Degree, might now have resembled yourself; but my Unkindness must, long since, have broken his gentle Heart. My Child saved me from Murderers, and I in Return was the Murderer of my Child. O,
Hammel,
my
Hammel,
my Son, my Son
Hammel,
would to God I had died before I wronged thee! Would God I had died for thee, O
Hammel,
my Son, my Son!
His last Words were broken and nearly suppressed by a Gush of Tears; when the tender hearted
Hammel
turned an Eye upon me, and cried, O, Sir, we have gone too far! --Then, hastily advancing, he threw himself at the Knees of his Father. I am here, Sir, he cried, your
Hammel,
your own
Hammel,
in all Duty and Affection, submissive and prostrate before you.
You my
Hammel,
are you my
Hammel,
asked the old Man? Ah, had you but his famished Face and his tattered Garment, I would take you to my Arms, to my Heart, into my Vitals.
O, my Father, cried
Hammy,
look not so strange and wild upon me! I am indeed your Child, once the Darling of your Heart, whom you fostered so tenderly, and nurtured at School and College; the true Son of your true Wife, look upon me, my Father! You often told me that I was her Picture; do you not see the very Features of my dear Mother in my Face?
Yes, yes, I think I do.    But then I have been mightily imposed upon of late. I would you were leaner and worse clad, my Child! however, if you come in the Name of my Son, I also will kneel down and crave his Pardon and your Pardon?
Here the old Gentleman sunk down upon his Knees, and poor
Hammel,
starting up at the same instant, cried aloud, Alas! Sir, he is beside himself, and I too shall go distracted!
I then was grieved at Heart for the Stratagem I had made Use of, to connect this worthy Family the more endearingly together. And coming soothingly to him, and raising him in my Arms, I replaced him in his Seat, and said, believe me, trust to me, my dear Mr.
Clement;
this is your true Child, your only Child, your true
Hammel!
He has lived with me many Years, I can prove him to be your's by a thousand Witnesses, by those who can witness what he has suffered, on account of being your Son.
Well, well, well, said he, whisperingly, it does not signify much, for I have another One coming, my
Polly
is now in the ninth Week of her Reckoning.    Ay, but, that
Saint Belial,
who knows but the Child may be an Imp of his Begetting ?    A cursed Couple they are, I'm sure; she a Succubus, and he the Devil himself incarnate  I hope they didn't hear me  shut the Door !    O, there they are !    Save me, save me !    they come upon me !    My Throat, they gripe my Throat !    My Breath, my Breath !    O  h  
Here he swooned. But, on taking a little Blood, he came to himself. So I ordered all to be kept quiet about him; and, getting him to Bed, he swallowed a soporific Draught, slept soundly till Morning, and awoke in his perfect Senses.
I then went to bid him Good-morrow, and took a Chair by his Bedside.    That was a mighty agreeable Family, said he, who supped with you last Night, Sir. The very worthiest, I replied, that I know upon Earth.    You called them
Clement,
I think.    That is their Name, Sir.    Pray, did they go Home ?    No, they are here still; at Times, we make but one Family and one Household.
While I spoke, I was surprised to see
Clement
enter, dressed in the same shabby Clothes in which we first found him,
Harry;
and the old Gentleman, turning his Head to the Door, started up in his Bed and cried, if I am a living Man, that is surely my
Hammel,
my very Son
Hammel.
On hearing this, poor
Clement
leaped hastily forward and, falling by the Bed, seized One of his Father's Hands, repeatedly kissed it, and wept upon it. You are restored to me then, he cried, my Father, my Father! God be praised, God be praised! You are restored to me entire, I trust, with all that paternal and melting Fondness which was once the Blessing and the Treasure that I prized above the World. No,
Hammy,
said the old Man, I will not deceive you, I cannot love you as I once loved you, because you never can forgive me. If you could forgive me,
Hammy,
I would love you with a double Love, a Love passing the Love of Fathers.
O, my Father, exclaimed
Hammel,
this one happy Moment of Reconciliation amply cancels all Offences, and outweighs all Sufferings. Permit me then, my dearest Father, to introduce Those to you who have an equal Right to your Blessing.
So saying, off he went, and brought in
Arabella,
with her attending Children, and all the Four kneeled down by the Side of the old Man.
O, my God, he cried out, you are too bountiful, too gracious, you oppress, you crush me to nothing with this exceeding Weight of your Benefits! I was a withered and a blasted Branch, and you have caused me, like
Aaron
's Rod to Bud and Blossom anew, and to bear these blessed Fruits, I trust, to your Glory!
When Breakfast was laid, and the old Gentleman dressed, I sent up for him, and when we were seated,
Clement
entered with his Family, All elegantly dressed, as on the preceding Night.
Hammy,
said I, how came you by that Disguise which you put on this Morning? You looked so unlike yourself you almost frightened me.    Don't you remember that Dress, Sir ?    How should I remember what I never saw before ?    O, you did see them before, Sir; those were the Weeds I wore, when you saved me and Mine from famishing; and I have ever since preserved, and shall ever preserve them, as the precious Memorial of my Obligations to you. What, exclaimed the old Gentleman, my Life, and your Life! has he saved your Life also, my Son? Yes, Sir, cried the grateful Creature, All who are alive here live only by  Here, while I put one Hand to the Mouth of my Friend, his venerable Father seized hold on the Other, and, bending one Knee, he pressed it to his Lips, in a Silence that passed all possible Utterance.
But pray, Mr.
Clement,
said I, to turn aside the Subject, what do you propose to do with Mrs.
Cable?
You know that, in Case of Penitence, I promised to have her taken Care of. To be sure, Sir, said he, I will make good all your Engagements, and I will further do whatever she desires, on Condition of her residing in a different Country, or rather in a different Kingdom; for I would not, for the World, that she should come within the Reach of me, by fifty Leagues at least; unless you were always to be with me for a Safeguard.
I laughed, and, immediately, Mrs.
Cable
's Maid entered all in a Heat, with a frightened and imploring Countenance. So my good Girl, said I, how is your Mistress, to Day? Ah Sir! she cried, I have but a very sad Account to give you of my Commission. My Mistress is dead, and I doubt that I, myself, have been ignorantly her Murderer.
Soon, after she was shown to her Apartment,
Hetty,
says she, I find myself growing very sick, pray step and bring me the little Bottle of Cordial, that you will find standing in such a Corner of my Closet. I did as I was ordered and, returning in all Haste, I presented her with the Bottle. When, looking mournfully at it, and giving a heavy Sigh, Ay, she cried, this is the right Cordial, this will do the Business; then calling for a Wine Glass, she filled and drank it off.
In a little while after, she complained of being drowsy, whereupon I undressed and helped her to Bed, and lighting a Candle, I sat down to watch beside her. For a Time, she appeared to sleep quite sound and easy, but again, began to moan and toss the Clothes. In a while after, however, she seemed quite composed. But, toward the Dead of Night, not hearing her breathe, I held up the Candle, and saw that her fine Face was livid and ghastly, and her Skin all discoloured.
I then thought that I, myself, should have dropped dead on the Spot. I gave a great Shriek, and, I believe, continued shrieking till the Keeper and a Servant Maid came in. So Sir, if your Honour is pleased to think that the Blame of this Matter belongs to me, I am come to deliver myself up to Justice.
No, my Girl, said I, you are not at all suspected. I don't perceive any Interest that you could possibly have in this melancholy Event. No, Sir, said old
Clement,
I can answer for her Innocence; she is but a late Comer; she was particularly tender of me, and, I dare say, knew nothing of the ill Designs of her Mistress. And so,
Hetty,
I will recommend you to a better Mistress,
Hetty,
an Angel of a Mistress, even to my own dearest Daughter, who sits blushing before you there.
That Night, after the Inquest of the Coroners, Mrs.
Cable
was secretly buried in the Fields, and my Servants interred her Confederate on the high Road; for I did not choose to have the sacred Ceremony of our Church profaned over a Reprobate who rejected the Hope of a blessed Resurrection.
The Day before I set forward, our kind-hearted
Clement
earnestly petitioned to accompany me, and urged his Impatience to embrace You, my
Harry;
but this I peremptorily refused, as I was sensible that his own Affairs demanded his Presence. So I came away, alone, yet attended by the Tears and good Wishes of the happiest Family that is, I think, within his Majesty's Dominions.
My dearest Brother, said the Earl, the latter Part of your Story is exceedingly pleasing, and yet scarce makes Amends for the Horrors that preceded. My Flesh, as well as my Spirit, still shudders at the Character of that accursed
Belial.
I did not think that such a Malevolence and Malignity of Disposition could be generated in the Bottom of Hell itself.
And yet, my Lord, I am persuaded, said Mr.
Clinton,
that could it please God, at this Instant, to withdraw from me the Influence of his holy and happy Spirit, I should become altogether as evil as
Belia
himself.
I cannot think so, my Brother, replied the Earl, You would still continue a Rational and free Creature. There is certainly a Distinction in the Nature of Things; there is the Beautiful and Deformed, the Amiable and Detestable; your judgement would approve the One and reject the Other; and your Freedom of Agency would act conformable to your Election.
Ah, my Lord, cried Mr.
Clinton,
what Things, what Beauty, what Amiableness, what Freedom is this that you speak of? Have you found out another Universe, or another Deity beside Him in whom our Life subsists? Are there any Things in Nature, save the Things of our God? Or what Beauty or Amiableness can they possibly exhibit, save what they derive from him; save some Quality or Impregnation, some Manifestation or Impression of his own Beauty or Amiableness?
To make this Matter clear, let us go somewhat deeper, quite back, if you please, my Lord, to the very Birth of Things.
Throughout Nature, we find that God can impart to his Creatures a Being, an Identity, a Fire of Life, an Intelligence or Sagacity, a Consciousness, a Force or Action, a Will, and a Freedom, distinct from himself, and distinct from each Other; and this is the utmost Extent of Creaturely Nature, whether respecting the Powers that are in Hell or in Heaven, whether respecting the highest Seraphim that are in Bliss or in Perdition.
Now, all these Powers or high Prerogatives, although distinct from God, are infinitely far from being independent of him, for he will not, he cannot depart from his Supremacy, nor that Universality of Essence, by and in whom alone all Essences subsist. He can, indeed, impart the forementioned Powers to any limited Degree that he pleases; but then, in their highest Degree of Fire, Life, or Sagacity, Force, Action, or Freedom, you will perceive, on the slightest Reflection, that there is nothing of the
Beautiful
or
Amiable,
that You spoke of; but that they are equally applicable, and may be equally exercised to evil, or good Purposes, according to the Nature or Disposition of the Agent.
Your Pardon, for one Minute, my noble Brother! I have already specified the many great and wonderful Powers that God can impart to his Creatures, distinctly, though not independently, from Himself. But there is one Power, one Quality which God cannot make Creaturely; which, with all his Omnipotence, he cannot possibly impart, in any Kind of Distinction or Separability from himself; and this Quality is called GOODNESS.
And now, my dear Lord, in order to convince You of this most capital and most important of all Truths, a Truth upon which, Time, Eternity, and the Universe all turn, as on their Axis; it may be necessary to enquire what GOODNESS is.
It will be answered, that GOODNESS is various and infinite in its Kinds and Degrees. It is so indeed, for it is, at once, ONE and MANY. It springs forth from our God, as the living Fountain in Paradise, that thence divided it into Rivers and numberless Streams, to water and replenish the whole Earth. All those Streams, however, were but so many Parts or Portions of the one variously blessing Fountain, and that Fountain is LOVE, it is the LOVE of Others, my Lord.
There is no Species of allowed or conceivable Virtue, that is not reducible under the Standard of this, their great Leader, and all generating Parent, called LOVE. GOOD WILL is the eternal Blesser of All to whom it is beneficent, and also generates its own Blessing in the very Act of its Love.
Here lies the great and impassable Gulf, between God and his Productions, between the Creature and the Creator. The Will of God is an Eternal FIRE OF LOVE toward his Creatures, and goes forth in Blessings upon them as wide and universal as his own Existence. But the Will of the Creature is confined and limited like its Essence. While it is distinct, or uninformed of the Will of God, it cannot possibly act beyond or out of itself; it cannot possibly feel for any Thing except itself; it cannot wish any Welfare except its own Welfare, and this it endeavours to compass by the Exertion of all its Powers. Indeed, we may as well suppose that a crude Rock, at the Extremity of either Pole, while compassed by perpetual Darkness and compacted by perpetual Frost, should yet kindle itself, and beam forth in Light and Warmth upon All around; as that any creaturely Will should, of its own Powers, go forth in Affection or Kindness upon Others.
From this distinct, selfish, and craving Will of the Creature springs every possible Evil, whether natural or moral. From the Preference of its own Identity to that of Others, ariseth Pride. From the Eagerness of its grasping at all Advantages to itself, ariseth the Envy of any imaginary Advantage to Another. Pride, Covetousness, and Envy beget Hatred, Wrath and Contention, with every Species and Degree of Malevolence and Malignity; and the Disappointment of these Passions produces Rancour and Misery; and, Altogether, they constitute the whole Nature and Kingdom of Hell itself in the Soul.
But, when God is pleased to inform the Will of the Creature with any Measure of his own benign and benevolent Will, he steals it sweetly forth in Affection to Others. He speaks Peace to the Storm of rending Passions; and a new and delightful Dawning arises on the Spirit. And thus, on the grand and final Consummation, when every Will shall be subdued to the WILL OF GOOD TO ALL, our
Jesus
will take in Hand the resigned Cordage of our Hearts, he will tune them, as so many Instruments, to the Song of his own Sentiments, and will touch them with the Finger of his own divine Feelings. Then shall the Wisdom, the Might, and the Goodness of our God become the Wisdom, Might, and Goodness of all his intelligent Creatures. The Happiness of Each shall multiply and overflow, in the Wishes and Participation of the Happiness of All. The Universe shall begin to sound with the Song of Congratulation, and all Voices shall break forth in an eternal Hallelujah, of Praise transcending Praise, and Glory transcending Glory! to God and the Lamb!
Hasten, hasten that blessed Period, great God, we beseech thee! exclaimed the Earl. But, tell me, my heavenly Brother, for it is surely in Heaven that you hold your Conversation, and from whence you derive all your Knowledge and Lights; tell me then, is there no Distinction, no Preference, in Matter of Goodness, between Creature and Creature, between Man and Man? For this seems to be the Consequence of what You have set forth very nearly, I acknowledge, to mathematical Demonstration.
Your Question, my dear Lord, is very deep, said Mr.
Clinton,
and still leads to greater Depths than I would choose to disclose before our
Harry,
yet awhile. I will however attempt, in few and simple Words, to give you some Satisfaction on this most interesting Article.
There are two great and capital Errors, under which the World of Man hath laboured, and still continues to labour ever since the Creation. The
First
is, that of ascribing and imputing, to Ourselves, every Emotion and Inclination, toward Virtue or Goodness, that we seal within us: The
Second
is, that, as free Agents, we are enabled to elect and reject, merely by the Act of an own Will independent of any Impulse or Bias whatever.
I have already shown your Lordship that every creaturely Will, independent of the Will of its God, can be no other than an eager Craving after its own Happiness, and cannot possibly be affected in Behalf of another Creature, who is wholly distinct from it and wholly an Alien to it. Wherefore, every creaturely Will, in such a separate and adverse State, is altogether as an
Ishmael,
whose Hand is against every One, and every One's Hand against him.
On the other Hand, I have shown You that God (the sole Fountain of all Being and Blessedness) can, in his Nature and Disposition, be nothing but LOVE; and that, even in loving Himself, he must love his own Productions, the Realizing of his own Ideas, and the Works of his own Power. What, indeed, should hinder our God from being wholly a God of Love? Was there any thing before him, was there any thing coeval with him to control or oppose him? Had he any thing to envy, had he any thing to excite his Anger, except his own Conceptions, and These he was at Liberty to bring, or not to bring into Existence or Perceptibility, even at his own Pleasure. What then should affect him with the slightest Tincture of Malignity? Could he add to his own Happiness by rousing the hateful Passions within his own blessed Bosom? We may more rationally suppose that the Sun, in his distant Zenith of burning Superiority, should have his Light impaired by the Squirt of a Schoolboy, than that the Deity should be affected, with any Touch of Malevolence, by any Creature, or by all the Creatures that his Omnipotence can produce.
Purblind Reason, here, will say; even the Goodness of God himself, in the human Heart, will say, if our God is all LOVE, if he is a Will to all Rectitude and Happiness in his Creatures, why did he suffer any Evil to begin in Nature or Creature? Could Evil have arisen contrary to the Will of Omnipotence, if Omnipotence had willed that it should not arise?
Ah, my Friends, no Evil ever did nor ever can approach the Will of God; neither can he will or affect any Species of Evil in Nature or Creature, but he can allow a temporary Evil in the Creature, as a Travail toward its Birth into the more eminent Degree of that Goodness and Happiness which God affects. God cannot affect or take Delight in the Sufferings of the most abandoned Reprobate that ever blasphemed his Name; but, he can will that the Sinner should be reclaimed, to Happiness, even by Suffering, when there are no other Means, in Nature, whereby he may be reclaimed.
Could Creatures, without the Experience of any Lapse or Evil, have been made duly sensible of the Darkness and Dependence of their creaturely Nature, and of the Distance and Distinction between themselves and their God; could they have known the Nature and Extent of his Attributes, with the Infinity of his Love; could they have known the dreadful Consequences of falling off from him, without seeing any Example, or experiencing any Consequence of such a Fall; could they have, otherwise, felt and found that every Act of creaturely Will, and every Attempt at creaturely Power, was a Forsaking of that eternal Wisdom and Strength in which they stood; could all intelligent Creatures have been continued in that Lowliness, that Resignation, that Gratitude of burning Affection which the slain. Will of the mortified Sinner feels, when called up into the Grace and Enjoyment of his God; could those endearing Relations have subsisted in Creation, which have since newly arisen, between God and his lapsed Creatures, wholly subsequent thereto; those Relations, I say, of Redemption, of Regeneration, of a Power of Conversion that extracts Good out of Evil, of a Love that no Apostasy can quench, that no Offences can conquer; if these eternal Benefits could have been introduced, without their Ground or Foundation in the Admission of Evil, no Lapse or Falling off would ever have been.
To make this Matter still clearer, if possible --In the dark and the boundless Mirror, called Nature, God beheld and contemplated, from all Eternity, the Loveliness of his own Light and the Beauty of his own Ideas, even those Ideas to which he had determined to impart Perceptibility, or a Consciousness and Feeling of an Owness of Existence, in Him. He also contemplated, therein, the whole Infinity of Possibilities, all Causes with their Consequences in the remotest Relation, all Events that ever should or ever could come to pass.
He saw that, without an intelligent Desire, no Creature could be excellent, or formed in his Likeness. But he saw also that, unless such Intelligence should be ruled by his Wisdom, and such a Desire wholly conformable to his Will, the Creature could not be wise, the Creature could not be happy.
In the Possibility of the Creature's Desire of Independence, God saw the Possibility of moral and natural Evil: But he saw that such partial and temporary Evil might be converted to the Production of an Infinity of Good; and he saw that, without the Admission of such Evil, the Good that bore Relation thereto could not arise.
He knew that, till the Lapse or Falling off of some of his Creatures, his own infinite Attributes could not duly be manifested, could not be duly adored in the Glory of their Contrast. That no Creature, till then, could be duly sensible of its own Fallibility, could be duly sensible that Sufficiency and Perfection were solely in God, and that all Things depended on him as well for every Quality of Blessedness as of Being.
He foresaw all the Misery that should attend upon Error; but he saw also how amiable, how beneficial was the Sense of such Error; how it might serve to sap the Self-Confidence of the Creature, and engage him to cast his Trust where his Strength alone lay. And he the more willingly permitted the Sufferings of all his fallen Offspring, as the future blissful Period was already present to him, when the Miseries of the short Parenthesis (called Time) should be for ever shut up between the two Eternities; and when all his beloved and rectified Creatures should enter upon the Fullness of the Enjoyment of their God.
From the Blackness of Guilt, and the Cloud of Pains, Calamities, Diseases, and Deaths, God saw Remorse, Contrition, Humility, Patience, and Resignation, beaming forth into new Wonders of Light and eternal Life. He saw new Relations, new Connections, new Endearments arise, between
Creaturely
Good and
Creaturely
Evil, between Transgression and Redemption, Repentance and Pardon; and he joyed (without Beginning) in calling his loved Offspring from Error to Rectitude, from Lowliness to Exaltation, from Death into Life, from Time to Eternity, and from transitory Afflictions into ever enduring and ever increasing Blessedness.
God foresaw, in future Worlds of new and wonderful Construction, the Frailty and Lapse of his favourite Family of Man. He saw him sunk into the Inclemency of outward Elements, and into the inward Darkness and Wrath of his distinct and limited Nature; externally besieged and tempted by lying Offers of Enjoyment, and internally rent by disappointed Desires and malignant Passions. But, he had provided a Redemption of such stupendous Potency, as would not suffer the perverse Creature to tear itself out of the Arms of his Affection. He had provided a Seed of the SON OF HIS LOVE, that should take Root in Man's World of inward and outward Evil; that should grow as a fragrant Flower, through Corruption and Abomination, into the Freedom, the Light and the Purity of Heaven; that should reprove his Unrighteousness, that should convict him of Wickedness, that should convince him of Weakness, and soften him into Sorrow for his own Transgressions; that should melt him into a Sense of the Calamity of others; that should diffuse as a dawning Light through his dark and angry Nature, subduing his Pride, assuaging his Passions; calling him forth from Self into the Expansion of Benevolence, into all the Charities and Amities, the Feelings and Offices of the human Heart thus made divine; and lastly, maturing in him a different Nature and a new Creature; that God may be in all Men the ONE WILL TO THE ONE GOODNESS; thereby uniting all Men, as one Man, in their God. For deep, indeed, are all his Counsels; and all the Mazes of his Providence will finally unwind themselves in the Rectitude and Fullness of the Wisdom of his Love.
That a Creature, inexperienced or newly brought into Being, should stand in the State in which he felt his Delight: Or even, that he should fall therefrom, by attempting at something, through an own Will, and the Presumption of an own Power; does not appear to have any Thing very wonderful in it. But that a Creature, already fallen into the Misery and Depravity of a second and base Nature, should rise again superior to its original Goodness and Glory; this is the Work, produced in Time, that will be Matter of chief Amazement throughout the second Eternity.
That Man, I say, fallen into a Body of bestial Flesh and Members, fallen into the Properties of a dark and wrathful Nature; fallen into circling Elements of Hostility, Distemperature and Dissolution to his Frame; that Man, I repeat it, thus degraded and weakened, thus oppressed and assaulted from within and from without, should yet advance and proceed through his Course of appointed Warfare, denying his own Appetites, pulling down his own Pride, combating Sufferings with Patience, subduing Injuries with Love, delighting to labour under the hinder Part of that Cross which
Simon
the
Cyrenian
was compelled to bear; conquering, rising, triumphing over Desires, Disappointments, Tribulations, Languor, Sickness, failing Existence and Death; and All this, without any Constraint or Violation of that Principle of Liberty which his ETERNALLY FREE PROGENITOR imparted unto him; this indeed is a Wonder to
Cherubim
and
Seraphim,
and, from Eternity to Eternity, the GREATEST WORK of God.
Here, Brother, said the Earl, you expressly acknowledge that Man is a free Agent.
I acknowledge, answered Mr.
Clinton,
that Man has a Principle or Seed of Liberty within him, a Power of turning, or at least of leaving his Will to the Impulse of Good, on the one Hand, or of Evil on the Other, he could not otherwise be accountable; and this brings me directly to your Lordship's Question respecting the Distinction, in Matter of Merit, between Man and Man.
KNOW THYSELF, was the wisest of all the
Saws
in the ancient Schools; for the most useful of all Studies, to Man, is that of Man.
MAN has been represented, by the Boastings of pagan Philosophy, as equal in many Respects, and in some Articles superior to what they conceived of Godhead.
They define him a rational and lordly Intelligence, sole Dictator to his own Actions, Controller of his own Passions, and of Powers, Virtues, and Faculties, wholly free and independent. But, what says Nature on this Head?
Man goes out of this World, even as he comes into it, quite passive and without his own Consent. From the Womb to the Time of his maturing in Reason, and even till some Degree of Power is awakened in him toward governing his Appetites and resisting his Inclinations, he is as merely a sensual and servile Machine as any inferior Animal or Brute in the Creation. His Pulses beat, his Blood circulates, and all the Offices of Respiration, Secretion, and Perspiration are performed, alike awake as asleep, without any more Attention or Care, on his Part, than if he had no Interest or Concern therein.
In the mean Time, he is begirt by outward Objects, and outward Elements, that hold an intimate Correspondence and perpetual Communication with his Flesh, with all his Organs, and his animal Life; exciting in him a Variety of Appetites and Desires that he can no more resist, than a Twig can swim against a Torrent; insomuch that, were this the Whole of the Man, with Respect to his Appetites, he would of Necessity be a Brute, and with Respect to his Passions, he would of Necessity be a Devil.
Thus far, my Lord, you see that Man is wholly acted upon, and does nothing but as he is incited or impelled thereto; and were there no other Agent within him to act upon him on the opposite Part, had he no present Friend to combat with and control the evil Propensities of his Nature, he would be as totally a Slave to his carnal and diabolical Lusts, as the Galley-Rower is to the Bench whereon he is chained.
But, blessed be our all-creating, all-redeeming, and all-loving Friend, who is ever present in us and to us, and does not leave our Impotence destitute of his Help; who, in the Centre of our old and reprobated
Adam,
hath implanted a divine Seed of a new Nature and a new Creature; even the renewed Image of himself in our Souls. It is this infant Resemblance of himself in our Essence, which God always cherishes, which he always elects, which he pursues; which he calls upon by the Word of the Son of his Love, which he informs with the Breath of his holy Spirit, whispering into it the still Voice of his own beatifying Affections.
Now, though these two Seeds or Principles are so intimately united in us, that very few observe any Distinction between them, yet no two Things can be more opposite than they are to Each Other, both in their Natures and Propensities. And, accordingly, the great Apostle,
Paul,
hath specified and marked out their separate Offices and Departments with the most exact Precision. Reach me yonder Bible,
Harry,
--Here it is.    
That which I do, I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I. If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the Law, that it is good. Now then it is no more I that do it, but Sin that dwelleth in me. For I know that in me (that is, in my Flesh) dwelleth no good Thing; for to will is present with me, but how to perform that which is good, I find not. For the Good that I would, I do not; but the Evil which I would not, that I do. Now, if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but Sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a Law, that when I would do Good, Evil is present with me. For I delight in the Law of God,
after the inward Man.
But I see another Law in my Members, warring against the Law of my Mind, and bringing me into Captivity to the Law of Sin, which is in my Members. O, wretched Man that I am, who shall deliver me from the Body of this Death!
Here, my Friends, You see, the Apostle distinguishes, most precisely, between the opposite Natures and Tendencies of the two several Seeds of the
first
and the
second Adam,
between the
Outward
and
Inward,
the
Vitiated
and
Regenerate,
the
Old
and the
New Man.
The
Old
warring against the
New,
and endeavouring to bring him into Captivity to Sin and Death; insomuch that our own evil
Cain
would willingly slay outright the good
Abel
that is in us.
Now, between these adverse Offsprings of the earthly and heavenly
Adams,
our
Will,
or
Principle of Freedom,
or
Power of Election,
is placed.
On the one Part, we are besieged and assailed by a World of tempting and seducing Objects, that hold intimate Intercourse with our Flesh and carnal Sensibilities, and impel their Influences on our Spirit, through every Organ. While the Rulers in Darkness, enter through the said sensual Avenues, excite their diabolical Passions within us, and begin to open a Kingdom of their own in our Soul.
On the contrary Part, our heavenly Father is graciously pleased to act upon us, through the kindred Seed of that divine Nature which he had implanted in our Essence. He attracts us strongly though not forcibly; and he sheds into us a Species of mental Feelings and Affections, to which Flesh and Blood is wholly an Alien.
Here then, when the Will turns away, from divine Influence, and delivers itself up to the Impulses and Operations of the evil Agents, the whole Man becomes a Prisoner in the Regions of Darkness and Shadows of Death, and Nothing but intense Sufferings can awake him to a Sense of the Error, Insufficiency, and Folly of his Pursuits, and of the Loss and Horror of the State in which he lies.
But, when the Will turns and yields itself to the gracious Drawings and Influence of God's blessing Spirit; God opens himself unto it, and attracts it still more powerfully, till he gradually delivers it from the Slavery of Sense, of Sin, and of Self, into the perfect Freedom of a willing Service to Goodness.
Above all, when the Will is assaulted by violent, pressing, and permanent Temptations; if yet, with the Assistance of supporting Grace, it strives and struggles to maintain the Fight, and to tear itself away from the Custody of Evil, though anguishing in the Strife, and pierced, even to the dividing of the Bone from the Marrow; then is the Scripture fulfilled that says,
the Kingdom of Heaven suffereth Violence, and the Violent take it by Force;
then is our
Jesus
in the highest Height of his Throne and Dominion; then does he deem all his Sufferings overpaid; and he will, himself, be the Champion in the Will of such a Champion, and he will fight the good Fight, and run the good Course, and hold fast the good Faith both in him and for him, and he will impute the Whole of his Conquests to the willing Instrument of his Operations, and will crown him with the Crown of his own Glory, and will stretch out his Existence to the Reception and Expansion of his whole Heaven within him.
Here then, my honoured Brother, You have your Question fully answered touching the Difference, in Point of Merit, between Man and Man; since no Creature can have any Merit save so far as he opens his Will to the Impressions of the Goodness of God upon his Spirit.
What, you will say, is this the utmost Merit that the Best of Men can boast, that of barely yielding his Will to the Drawings and Influence of the Spirit of Goodness?   It is, indeed, my Lord, the very Whole of the Merit that any Creature can have, as his own Merit; the very utmost that he can do toward co-operating with his God, and conducing, in any Degree, to his own Salvation and Happiness.
O, that all Men, that all Men had this Merit, my Friends! that All would open the Gates of their everlasting Souls, and humbly and earnestly petition the King of Glory to come in! This would lead to ever during and ever increasing Merit; for our God would then impute his own Merits unto us, not by an outward but inward Imputation, even the feeling Sense and Participation of his Nature, his Powers, and Qualities within us. We should become good in his Goodness, wise in his Wisdom, and strong in his Omnipotence. By resigning and surrendring, to him, our dark, empty, hungry, and uncomfortable Creature; we should gain, in lieu thereof, the Plenitude of the rich and illuminating Creator. The Fullness of all Delight would become our Portion and Inheritance; and the Proprietor of the Universe would be our Property and Possession.
Here Mr.
Clinton
paused, and his Auditors continued in a kind of respectful Musing, as attentive to what he might further offer. At length the Earl exclaimed, Never, never more, my Brother, will I debate or question with You, further than asking your Advice or Opinion, to which I shall instantly and implicitly submit, as I would to that of the highest Seraph in Heaven. Our dear
Meekly,
here, and I had some former Converse on a few of these deep Subjects, and I received much Satisfaction and Instruction from him; but he was not quite so explicit and convincing as You have been.
Ah, my Lord, cried
Meekly,
were I as intimate with the Fountain of all Knowledge, as your precious Brother is, You would not then have posed me in the Conversation we last held on those Heads.
On the following Day, at Breakfast, Mr.
Meekly
took out his Pocket-Book, and produced Bank and Stock-Bills to the amount of something upward of three thousand Pounds. He then presented them to Mr.
Clinton,
and said, Here, Sir, is a little Matter toward Repayment of the Loan I had from You in
Holland.
I bless, I bless my God, that he has enabled me, thus far, to approve myself an honest Man; but, above all, I bless him for giving me once more a Sight of the gracious Countenance of my Patron. But for You, I had miserably perished in a Dungeon; to You, Sir, I owe my Liberty, to You I owe my Life, to You I owe the Recovery of the Inheritance of my Fathers. With Respect to such Obligations I am indeed a beggared Insolvent. But, my Heart is pleased with the Thought, that the Connection between us, of Creditor on your Part and of Debtor on mine, should remain on Record to all Eternity.
Here, the worthy
Meekly
became oppressed under Sensations of grateful Recollection, and, putting his Handkerchief to his Eyes, he sobbed out his Passion.
In the mean time, Mr.
Clinton
held the Bills in his Hand, and carelessly casting his Eye over them perceived the Amount. As soon as he saw that his Friend's Emotion had partly subsided, You have, Mr.
Meekly,
says he, You have been quite a Gospel Steward, and have returned me my Own with most unlooked for Usury, and I heartily pray God, in Recompense of your Integrity, to give You the Principality of many Cities in the coming Kingdom of his Son. But what shall I do with this Money, my dear
Meekly?
My Wealth already overflows, it is my only Trouble, my only Encumbrance. It claims my Attention, indeed, as it is a Trust for which I know I am strictly accountable. But I heartily wish that Providence would reclaim the Whole to himself, and leave me as One of his Mendicants, who daily wait on the Hand that supplieth All, who seek his Kingdom, with necessary Things. For my
Harry
has enough, and more than enough, now, in the Abundance of his noble Father. You must therefore keep these Bills to yourself, my worthy Friend; retain, or give, or dispose of them, even as it shall please You; whether as your Property or as my Property, it matters not Six-pence; but, take them back, you must take them back indeed, my
Meekly.
And so saying, he shoved them over from him, on the Table.
Ah, my most honoured Sir, exclaimed the repining
Meekly,
sure You would not serve me so! My Soul is but just eased of a Load that lay heavy on it for many, many Years. Be not then so severe as to replace the Burden upon me. It would break my very Heart, should you persist in refusing this little Instance of Acknowledgment from One of your warmest Lovers.
Here,
Harry
found himself affected and distressed for the Parties, and, in order to relieve them, took the Decision of the Matter upon himself.
Gentlemen, says he, I will, with your good Pleasure, put a very quick End to this Dispute, and I offer myself to You, as your joint Trustee, to be your Almoner and Disposer of these Bills.
As I was lately on my Rambles, through some Villages near
London,
the Jingle of a Number of infant Voices struck my Ear, and turning, and looking in at the Ground-Floor of a long Cottage, I perceived about thirty little Girls neatly dressed in a Uniform, and All very busily and variously employed, in hackling, carding, knitting, or spinning, or in sewing at their Sampler, or in learning their Letters and so forth.
The adjoining House contained about an equal Number of Boys, most of whom were occupied in learning the Rudiments of the several Handy-Crafts; while the rest were busied in cultivating a back Field, intended as a Garden for these two young Families.
I was so pleased with what I saw, that I gave the Masters and Mistresses some small Matter; and I resolved, within myself, if ever I should be able, to gather together a little Family of my own for the like Purposes.
Now, Gentlemen, here comes Mr.
Meekly
's Money quite in Season for saving just so much of my own. But hang it, since I am grown suddenly rich, I think I will be generous for once in my Life, and add as much more out of my proper Stock. I shall also make so free as to draw on my Uncle there for the like Sum; and these, totted together, will make a pretty Beginning of my little Project. As to my poor Father here, he has nothing to spare, for he has already lavished all his Wealth on his naughty Boy.
My Lord and the Company laughed heartily at
Harry
's little Pleasantry  But heark ye, honest Friend, added the Earl, you must not think to expose me, by leaving me out of your Scheme; can't you lend me as much,
Harry,
as will answer my Quota? Yes, my Lord, said
Harry,
upon proper Securities, I think I may venture. You are a Rogue, and a Darling, and my Treasure, and my Honour, and my Ornament, cried the Earl, turning and bending fondly toward him. While
Harry
's Eyes began to swim with Pleasure, and, casting himself into his Father's Bosom, he there hid the Tears of his swelling Delight; while Mr.
Clinton,
and Mr.
Meekly
sat, silently wrapped in the Enjoyment of the tender Scene.
When
Harry
was reseated, Gentlemen, says he, I must bid you adieu. I am engaged on a Party in the Village this Morning. For this Day, I must quit the Honour of being your Lordship's Son, and shall content myself with the Station of One of your Vassals or Dependents; and so saying he rose, and away he shot.
Immediately the Earl rung the Bell, and Mr.
John
entered.
John,
said he, do you know any thing of
Harry
's Expedition into our Town to Day? Why, my Lord, said
John,
our loving Townsmen have agreed to do all the Honour they can to the Arrival and Welcome of your honourable Brother. The Day is to be spent in Sports; and To-morrow is to be lighted up with the Bonfires and illuminations of this very Night. There is a Football also to be, and I fancy that my Master
Harry
designs to be no better than a Hail Fellow among them.
Tell me then, my good
John,
could you contrive so as to place us where we might see some of these Diversions without being seen? Why, please your Honours, the Football is to be in our Park; and I can raise a Stage of Boards where, by the Help of a Step Ladder, your Honours may get up, and peep over, and so see all that passes. Get it done then, get it done, good
John,
immediately.
When
John
had gone out to execute his Commission, I believe Sir, said
Meekly
to Mr.
Clinton,
that there is not such a Boy, as your Nephew, no, not in the whole Universe; every Look and Accent, every Motion, Fibre and Member, so wonderfully answering, to the Meekness and Modesty, the Honour, the Gallantry and Intrepidity of his Spirit. He shrinks from Praise, he is ashamed before it; and yet his Words sink, as Balm on the Heart, and his Actions compel People to affront him with rejected Honours wherever he goes. While I look on his lovely and lowly Countenance, and inwardly embrace him as I would a Part or Portion of my God; I secretly say to myself, you are a Proof, my
Harry,
that the lower the Roots of Humility strike into the Depths beneath, the more the exalted Branches ascend the Heights of Heaven! I attend, I study him, as well for my Instruction as Delight, and look upon and revere him, as the most perfect Copy that ever yet was taken of the omnipotent Babe in the Manger.
The other Day, he preserved his noble Father and me from being rent in Pieces by a mad and foaming Monster of a Mastiff. But, his Calmness of Courage with his Quickness of Action, his Prowess and Power, on that Occasion, exceeded all that I ever met with in Fable. Pray, my Lord, have you not yet told you Brother of that wonderful Incident? No indeed, said the Earl, my
Harry
continued with us, till within this Minute, and I was cautious of offending him by mentioning the Matter before him. For, he can scarce bear to be thanked for the Charity that he gives, and much less to be praised for any Virtue or Accomplishment. O, my Brother, my Brother, what do I not owe you? a Debt immense indeed, never, never, to be paid, for this precious, this inestimable Treasure of a Boy!
Ah, my Lord, cried Mr.
Clinton,
I am already overpaid; your Pearl has overpaid me for all my polishing. Nay, I am become his Debtor, I am indebted to him for my Life, if that were a Thing of Value. It is now about three Weeks since he delivered me from the greatest Peril I ever was in, and in the wonderful Manner I am going to tell you.
The Day before he set out for this Place, I desired him to take a Walk with me in the Fields, where I intended gradually to discover to him the heavy Tidings of the Death of his Mother and Brother.
Just as I began to open the Matter to him, I heard a sudden and terrifying Roar, and turning my Eye to the Place from whence it came, I perceived a monstrous Bull, tearing the Ground with his Foot, and denouncing his Wrath in the Voice of Thunder, when, quitting a few Kine among whom he stood, he made directly at us. Instantly I cried out to
Harry,
and charged him to fly for his Life, but instead of obeying me, he advanced with a hasty Pace to meet the enraged Animal.
Never was I in such a Panic as I then was for our precious Boy. I shook from Head to Foot, and was just going to drop, when the furious Beast stooped his Head to dash our Child to Pieces; but
Harry,
quick as Thought, laid hold on a Horn with one of his Hands, and rising into the Air, threw himself astride upon the Creature's Neck.
The Bull plunged, and tossed, and tore about at a frantic Rate, endeavouring to disencumber himself of his Rider, while
Harry
took out his Penknife and urged him to greater Madness by pricking him with the Point. At length the Monster, all panting, and white with Foam, stood still as a Post. When
Harry,
stooping, made Way through his Hide, opened the jugular Vein, and cut his Windpipe in two, and, after some imperfect Roars, the Creature sunk breathless beneath him.
Think of my Transports then, my Brother, when I saw my Hero safe and smilingly triumphant. I said and did Things, I believe, that were quite beside my Reason; but I shall not be so readily alarmed for him, hereafter, as I see that his Action, Intrepidity, and Presence of Mind, make him more than a Match for any living Creature.
In some Time after,
John
returned and gave his Lord Notice that their Station was prepared, whereupon our Company issued forth and ascended their Seat of Eminence, where, through the Cover of some Trees, they could see and observe without being observed.
After they had been seated and had talked awhile, of Truth, the LORD, OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS, of Heart felt Peace, and the fearful looking out for judgement from the God of Love, a promiscuous Crowd of many Hundreds of Old and Young, Male, and Female, entered and flooded the Park.
As All thronged about
Harry
with an affectionate Familiarity; he appointed that Football should begin the Sports; and, two Champions being chosen, Each of them chose his Man, and that Man Another, alternately, till about forty strenuous and active Youths were ranged on either Side.
The Field was then divided, and the Ball being tossed aloft in the Midst, they All mingled and jostled together, like Hailstones; till, after much running, wrestling and sweating, two Games were successively lost on the Side of the Party where
Harry
had ranged himself.
Ah, cried the Earl, my poor
Harry,
I find, is not accustomed to rude Sports of this Kind; whereupon Mr.
Clinton
laughed and cried, he is a Rogue, he is a Rogue, as you will quickly see, my Lord.
Master
Harry,
Master
Harry,
exclaimed his Associates, had you staid among us, instead of going to that dull and heavy heeled
London,
we would have taught you to play Football better than you do.
I never play right, answered
Harry,
but when the Girls are on my Side. And here I lay a Wager of twenty Guineas, in Hands of my Daddy
Dobson,
that, give me but my Choice, Twenty of these pretty Lasses, and I will beat your two Parties of Fourscore from one Barrier to the other. What say you,
Polly Truck,
will you be on my Side? I will side with your Honour against the World, cried
Polly,
and away went her Clothes to her Jacket and under Petticoat.
On this facetious Proposal of our Hero's, a loud Roar and Laugh was set up, that lasted a long Time. Well, well, Gentlemen, said
Harry,
I will give you leave to double your Laugh as soon as you are Winners. In the mean Time, my good
Polly,
be pleased to choose me out the rest of our fair Fellows at Football.
When this was done,
Harry
took them All, both Males and Females, to the extremity of the Barrier just opposite to his Father, extending to about a Mile in Length; and, while the Girls stood panting through Fear and Emulation behind him, he took the Ball in Hand, and, throwing it into the Air, gave it a Kick, as it descended, aloof from his Adversaries who were ranged directly against him, and then following it, like a Bullet, he gave it another Kick before it touched the Ground, and pursued and pursued it, with astonishing Rapidity, till he gave it the last Kick, high over the Trees that reached high over the Wall and over the Heads of his Parents.
In the mean Time,
Polly Truck,
had followed her beloved Patron with all imaginable Zeal and Speed, and had overrun all the Lads by near a Furlong. At last she came up to
Harry
panting and quite spent, and wished to wish him much Joy but was not able.
While these Things were in Agitation, our Company beheld All from behind their Cover, and, as
Harry
approached, their Hearts beat a quick and equal Measure with his Feet, even with such Emotions as
Virgil
ascribes to the Bosom of
Latona,
while she beholds and contemplates her fair Daughter
Dian
so eminently transcending the Choruses of her Nymphs in Grace, Beauty, and Excellence.
As soon as
Polly Truck
was come to her Speech, Laws, your Honour! says she, where in the World do you contrive to hide your Wings? I have nine Holland Smocks that I won by running at nine Wakes, and never was beaten before, in my Life.
Harry
laughed, and gave his quondam Playfellow a friendly Shake of the Hand.
The Company now began to come in apace, though yet awhile incapable of Utterance; but, gathering about
Harry,
they silently eyed him from Head to Foot, and beheld him with a Kind of venerating Astonishment. At last, young
Felster
(the Wit of the Town) cries, I have always heard, till now, that All were Fellows at Football, but here is One, I am sure, who has no Fellow. I will bet upon his Head, or rather on his Heels, against the ninety-nine Shires, and desire no better than Cripples to side him.
At length Old and Young, Men and Maidens, got once more together; and the Question was started concerning the next Sports upon which they should enter, when they beheld a mighty Giant approaching with Strides that would have suited the Arch of a River. He was called, by way of Eminence, the great
Roger
of
Rosstown,
and was accompanied by his Kinsman,
Pelt
the Tanner.
As soon as
Roger
came up, he very affectionately saluted those of his Acquaintance, asking, what Sport have ye got forward, my brave Boys? The best Sport, answered
Jack Felster,
would be to see your Highness, Mr.
Roger,
get a Fall before Night. That Man, cried
Pelt,
does not step on
English
Ground who will ever be able to crack of that Feat. Why, as to that Matter, said
Roger,
though I rose early this Morning, I have a strong Fancy that I am up for the whole Day.
Tom Truck,
cries
Felster,
if you will get on one Side of him, I will get on 'tother, and try what Hand we can make of this famous Champion.
Accordingly the Attack began; but
Roger
smiled superior, and handled and played them together as a Show-Man plays his Puppets. Another Wrestler was then added, and then Another, but the Four could no more move him than if he were a Tower; while he lifted them up, in Turns, and laid them successively on the Ground, with the best natured Caution.
Harry
then came smilingly up and said, Mr.
Roger
if you'll be so kind to teach me the Art of Wrestling, I will make you a Present of twenty Guineas for your Pains, my Daddy
Dobson
there has the Money in his Pocket.
Roger
here surveyed our Hero with the most inquisitive Attention. I rejoice to see your Honour, says he, with all my Heart; and indeed, it was for that only Purpose that I came here to Day, having already heard the Story of my Cousin's great Mastiff. But, Sir, as you were proposing, and as I honestly think, you may do wonderfully well for a Wrestler of Quality; for you are exceeding finely made as any Thing can possibly be for the Volume of you; and, as the Jockeys say, are the prettiest Fellow of your Inches I ever set my Eyes on. But, you want something of my Bulk, Master, to give you the full Powers. However, I thank your Honour for your generous Proffer, I am ready to enter on my Office whenever you please; and I hope to make the very most of the little Matter that is in you.
They then grappled, not as Combatants, but as Tutor and Pupil, and the Rogue
Harry
submitted himself, as a pliant Twig in his Hands, while
Roger
continued to initiate him in this Trip and that Trip, and in the various Methods of assailing and evading. When
Harry,
perceiving his Instructor a little over poised, suddenly gave him an inside Foot, and a Push at the same Instant toward the Part to which he inclined. --Strait, like a Promontory sapped with all its Pines, nine Paces huge the Giant sidelong veered, the tenth, on bended Knee, his mighty Arm upstaid. --Amazement filled the rustic Powers, to see with such Slight moved their Mightiest, and a universal Shout rent the wide Welkin.
Roger
rose and returned something abashed at his Foil; but said, with apparent good Humour, I am sorry that I have not twenty Guineas in my Pocket to pay your Honour, for showing me that same Trip. However, I hope you will give me one Turn more for the Victory. I now engage you, as a Learner, not as a Teacher. As you will, says
Harry.
Here,
Roger
laid hold on
Harry,
with a truly hostile Gripe, while
Harry
seized his brawny Muscles, as with little Cramps of Steel. Then was seen, on either Side, the long calculated Proportions of Weight against Action, and of Action against Weight.
Roger
several Times assayed to lift our Hero between his Hands, and to lay him, as he had served the other Peasants, on the Ground, but could not compel him to quit his Gripes. He then swayed him hither and thither, and thrust him from him and pulled him to him, and hooked and tripped him on every Side, but felt himself often staggered by the quick Efforts of
Harry,
while the Scales of Contest seemed alternately inclining to either Part. At length,
Roger,
beginning to find himself overbreathed, plucked his Adversary to him, and, bending heavily forward, overshadowed and overbore our Hero to the Earth.
Great
Roger
then rose triumphant, and
Harry
also arose in the best Humour imaginable. Mr.
Roger,
says he, I hold it truly an Honour that you think me worthy of Contention, although you have conquered. But this has been a Kind of Fling for which I don't owe you a Farthing, till you can make me of a Bulk approaching to yourself. But come, Mr.
Roger,
I will not take you at an Advantage, recover your Breath, and then, as you said to me, I hope you will give me another Chance for the Victory.
Soon after the Combatants again engaged, and mutually exerted their very utmost;
Roger
for saving his Honour, and
Harry
for preventing an open Disgrace before the Face of so great an Assembly. They struggled, they put every Power of Strength and Art to the Proof; till
Roger,
finding himself beginning to fail, had recourse to his former Stratagem, and, plucking
Harry
suddenly to him, would again have overlaid him; but our Hero, now aware, slipped nimbly from under him, and setting his right Foot before the right Foot of his Adversary, he gave a Shove, with his left Hand to the Other's right Shoulder, and prostrate fell the great
Roger
of
Rosstown,
extended over half a Rood of Ground.
Then, indeed, the Clamours became immoderately high; young
Felster,
above all Others, grew insolently triumphant, and the Girls could scarce be detained on the Ground, while they clapped Hands, and shouted, and sprung up aloft, in the Congratulation of
Harry
's unexpected Victory.
Our Hero then very affectionately stepped forward, and gave
Roger
a Hand to help him up, but he rose very slowly, as he was something hurt by his Fall. Mr.
Roger,
says
Harry,
I am now doubly your Debtor, and will accordingly pay you double Wages, as you have taught me, not only to throw Others, but to throw yourself also. Adad, cried
Roger,
I find and feel too, that you are already but too well taught to my Hand.
As soon as
Harry
had paid
Roger
his forty Guineas, Part of which he borrowed from Goodman
Demster, Roger
seized his Hand, and kissing it ardently, he cried, O my Conqueror, my Hero, my noble Child! throughout Life may all Enemies fall before you, nor Death itself be able to fling my Boy!
Just then the great Bell rung loudly for Dinner, and
Harry,
turning and measuring the Height of the Park Wall with a Glance of his Eye, took a short Race, and running up it some Steps, caught hold of the Coping, and threw himself over, while all the Assembly poured after him a Shout of Amazement.
Harry
happened to alight within a few Paces of the Stage where his Father and Uncle sat; but not attending to that, he was hastening homeward, when Mr.
Clinton
cried out, Ho, ho, honest Friend, whither away so fast?
Harry
stopped and started, and turning about, looked something abashed to find that his so highly revered Friends had been the Spectators of his little Feats and Follies; however he advanced toward them in order to help them down, while the Earl whispered to his Brother and said, Now we shall see how proud our
Harry
will be of having overcome the famous
Roger
of
Rosstown.
While they sat over a temperate Meal, why
Harry,
said the Earl somewhat slyly, the great
Roger
of
Rosstown
was but a Babe in your Hands. Ah, my Lord, cried
Harry,
smiling and blushing, you are not yet rightly apprised how that Matter stands. It cost me no less than forty Guineas to prevail upon Mr.
Roger
to let me cast him; but, when your Lordship was a Boy, perhaps you would have thought it but a small Matter for the Purchase of Honour, especially in the Eyes of the pretty Wenches. Indeed, my
Harry,
said the Earl, I was a very, very naughty Boy at your Years; and, had I been such a Fellow as you are at this Day, I should have kept as large a Seraglio as the
Sophy
himself, and that also of willing and kind hearted Girls.
Just then
John
entered with Tidings that an Embassy of a Score of Wenches waited at the Hall-Door, and were pushing before them the prettiest Maiden he ever beheld, to be their Spoke's-woman.
Immediately my Lord ordered that they should All be introduced, and quickly after a Clatter was heard without, crying, Indeed, indeed now, Miss
Aggy,
You must and shall speak for us.
The Door was then thrown open, and a young Creature entered, colouring, panting, and palpitating, and followed by the Group of Wenches who put her forward before them.
The Earl, in Pain for her sweet Confusion, did his best to encourage her, and ordered
Harry
to help them round with a Glass of Wine. By the Time that this was done, Miss
Aggy
became a little better assured, but had not yet dared to look One of them in the Face, but kept her Eyes bent on the Ground, as though she had been ashamed of their Brightness.
If  if  my Lord, said she, (tremblingly and whisperingly) if your honoured  your very honourable Brother is here  we come to invite him and his Company to our Town-Ball.    And we will attend you with Pleasure, my little Angel, cried the Earl. But, pray who are you, and where do you live ?    So please You, my Father's Name is
Abel Jessamin,
and he is lately come Tenant to Part of your Lordship's Estate.    Then I will make him a Present of at least a Year's Rent for his fair Daughter's Sake. Here,
John,
give five Guineas apiece to these pretty Lasses to buy each of them a Riband. And, do you hear, bring me twenty Guineas for this their chief Ambassadress.    Not for the World, my Lord, indeed I will not accept a Farthing. My Father, though poor, is very jealous of his Honour, and should I take any thing from any Man living, he would never suffer me to darken the Light that shines in at his Door.
Aggy
then made an elegant Curtsey to the Ground, and retreated, attended by her own Graces, and by the revering and affectionate Regards of the Company.
Who can this Creature be, cried out the Earl, so lovely, so uncommon, such a sweet Distinction about her! Ah, exclaimed Mr.
Clinton,
what a Pity it would be that such Innocence should be seduced, and such Purity corrupted! And yet, that is most likely to be the Case, said Mr.
Meekly,
since Beauty is the Bawd that procures its own undoing, and Loveliness the very Magnet that attracts Men to its Destruction.
Harry
half suppressed a Sigh, but said nothing.
The Horses were now immediately ordered to be put to, and our Company drove into the Town, accompanied by the Acclamations of Hundreds upon Hundreds who lined the Way.
As soon as they came to the Market Place, the Coach set them down near a spacious Flooring that was raised, in open Air, about a Foot from the Ground, and surrounded with Benches behind Benches, and Benches above Benches, to a great Elevation.
When they were shown to the Seats prepared for them, they were served with a Variety of Wines and Cakes; for our open hearted Townsmen had spared no Cost for the Entertainment of their noble Guests and their Neighbours. The Band of Music (the choicest that could be got) then struck up, and the Jubilee was opened in full Triumph.
My Lord then wished, in secret, that
Harry
and Miss
Jessamin
would lead the Ball; but, observing that his Son looked something dejected, he imputed it to Fatigue, and suppressed his Desire. In the mean Time, the Lads and Lasses entered upon the Stage, and several footed it away featly and with all due Applause.
As
Harry
had not yet opened his Lips to the too, too amiable
Aggy,
nor even presented his Hand to lead her out, she declined every other Hand that was offered to her. At length, as the Day began to lose of its Lustre. Mr.
Clinton
whispered to
Harry,
and requested the Favour that he would dance an
Entry.
The Desire of Father or Uncle was instantly, to
Harry,
the same as the Command of the Grand Seignior to his Slave. He rose, stood forth, and appointed the Air, and began to move with a slow and graceful Measure. But, as the Notes of the Tune quickened, he quickened his Motions. Ether now appeared to be wholly his native Element. No Eye could perceive that his Foot condescended to claim Acquaintance with Earth. He trod Air. He spun around. He soared aloft like a Pyramid of Fire; while his Limbs preserved the Measure, and his Heels traversed each other, as he shot forward or sideways, with a Quickness that dazzled the Sight. Till poor
Aggy,
in the Exuberance of her Admiration, very innocently and very inadvertently exclaimed, Sure, sure, that Girl is not born who can deserve to have him. All to herself.
Happily for
Aggy,
the Company was so intent on the Motions of our Hero, that Few attended to her, save
Harry
himself, who heard what she said to the very Bottom of his Heart.
But
Aggy,
utterly confounded, at the Recollection of what she had uttered, thought that the Company and the whole World were privy to her Shame. Her Face, Neck, and Bosom were instantly suffused with Crimson; and she did not presume to raise her Eye to any Face, or any Object, till she gently pulled her elderly Aunt by the Sleeve, and, stealing away, deprived the Assembly of its principal Object and Ornament.
That Night, after Supper, while
Harry
joined with the Company in a Kind of constrained Cheerfulness, they began to compliment him on the Achievements and Honours of the Day, when
Harry
replied, in evident Discontent, No more, no more, my Friends! Indeed, I never so thoroughly despised and detested myself as I do at this Instant. And so saying, he rose hastily and withdrew to his Chamber.
Mr.
Meekly
soon followed, for he was to lye in the same Room. And he sat down, in Silence, while
Harry
was slowly undressing. My dear young Friend, says he at length, I grieve to see you indisposed. Indeed, Sir, said
Harry,
I am not quite as I wish, and fear I shall disturb you. Ah, my dear Boy, cried
Meekly,
I know your Disorder perfectly well. I marked the Rise and the Progress, I saw the Whole as plain as
Paul
's. Had
Aggy Jessamin
been indifferent to you, You would have danced and conversed as familiarly with her as with any other Wench. But, you dreaded your own Feelings, and you dreaded, still more, that those Feelings should be betrayed to the Observation of Others. I know
Aggy Jessamin
and her Father, She is indeed very lovely and very deserving; but yet She is no Mate for you, my
Harry.
Ah, Sir, cried
Harry,
since you have already seen so far into my Soul, I think I had better open my whole Bosom to you, You will look down upon me, to be sure, you will hold me in the utmost Contempt, but, no Matter for that, so You promise not to love me the less.
Here, I am deemed a mighty clever Fellow, forsooth, at leaping high Walls, and flinging huge Giants; while alas I am flung, myself, by the least of my own Infirmities, and can no more wrestle against one of my Passions than if Each of them were a
Grecian Hercules.
I own to you, Mr.
Meekly,
that I love
Aggy Jessamin,
my Heart also tells me that I shall always love her. What then must be the Consequence of my unhappy Affection? Neither my Father nor Uncle will ever approve of our Union, and I would rather pine to Death, than offend the One or the Other.
Should I happen to meet the sweet Girl apart, I fear, nay I feel, that I could not be able to resist the Temptation, and, should she happen to yield, what a Ruin must ensue! If she loved me, it would break the poor Thing's Heart to be forsaken, and the Breaking of her's would break my Heart also. And yet, I could never think of continuing in a criminal Commerce.
Ah, my dear Mr.
Meekly,
pity the Weakness of your Friend, and pity the Ignorance that he is in of his own Spirit. My Heart exulted this very Day in its own Humility, while it felt itself insensible to the Acclamations of the Vulgar, and while I reflected that a few Years would soon cripple the Performer of such trifling Exploits, or possibly render me, in old Age, the ridiculous Boaster of the Feats of my Childhood. But, when the sweet Breath of
Aggy
gave its pleasing Applause to my little Matters, Vanity and Self-esteem sunk, with her Approbation, deep into my Bosom, and I have not yet been able to dispossess them.
O, such is my Passion for her, that, could I get a Dispensation but for a single Trespass, I would willingly do, for it, whole Years of hermitical Penance in the Wilderness. But, what would that avail, my Friend, or how might a whole Eternity atone for the Seduction of Innocence and Corruption of Virtue?
O, help me then, Mr.
Meekly,
help me to struggle against myself; better is it to suffer All that the cruel Conflict may cost me, than to suffer the Stings of that never ending Remorse which would tear my Soul for having injured the Object of my Affection.
Meekly
was in Tears, and could not answer for some time.    Yes  says he at length, I will assist you in this Combat, a Combat more glorious than ever was fought by all the
Caesars
and
Alexanders
that ever drew Sword. And I will pray to the Captain of our Salvation, in your Behalf; that he may sight the good Fight both in you and for you, and finally crown you with the Wreath of eternal Glory! But then you must be ruled, you must conform to the Prescriptions of your severe but wholesome Physician; in short, my dear Child, you must not see her any more.    What, never, Mr.
Meekly,
never see her any more? That is hard, indeed:  It is a necessary Hardship; could you answer to yourself the Consequences of such an Indulgence ?    I could not, I could not, I confess it, my Friend.    I will prevail upon her Father to send her far from you; and I will look out for some agreeable and kind hearted Man who may make her a worthy Husband, and be sensible of her Merits.    
O, you bear too hard upon me, too hard, indeed, cried
Harry.
What, give her to Another? And yet that's an ungenerous Regret; for, why should I grudge that Happiness to Another which I cannot enjoy? Well then, be it so, since it must be so, Mr.
Meekly.
Take her, bear her, tear her away from my Sight, from my Vitals! But then she must not go empty. Take for her two thousand, three thousand, five thousand Pounds; she is welcome, she is welcome to All that I am worth.
Here,
Harry
sat down and wept, and was accompanied by his Friend. But, the Conflict was now over; and though his Heart was deeply grieved, it was much more at Ease.
The next Morning, at Breakfast,
Harry
appeared to be quite composed. When the Earl, taking a Bundle of Papers from his Pocket, turned, with a fond and conciliating Air, to Mr.
Clinton,
and said: My dearest Brother, when You shall be at Leisure to cast your Eye over this Parcel, You will find that I have not been altogether, at least not all along, the unnatural Kinsman you had Cause to apprehend. These are Copies of the Letters which I sent in search of You, through several Parts of Europe, and in which I petitioned you to pardon my past Offences, and to return and possess yourself of your Rights in the Half of my Fortune and the Whole of my Heart.
Precious Pledges, cried Mr.
Clinton,
are all Things to me that bring me any Instance of the Affection of so dear a Brother; and so saying he put the Papers into his Bosom.
But tell me, my ever amiable
Harry Clinton,
continued the Earl, where in the World could you hide yourself from my Enquiries these twenty Years past? I have got some scattered Sketches of your History from Mr.
Meekly
and my Son here, and have been burning to learn the Whole, but dreaded to ask you that Favour, lest the Recollection of some Passages should give You Distress. I refuse no Pain to do you a Pleasure, my Brother.
Here, the honourable Mr.
Clinton
began his Story, as formerly recited, and that Night sent his Auditors weeping to Bed.
On the following Morning, when he came to that Part of his Narrative where Lady
Maitland
broke away, he proceeded as followeth.
Having travelled through several Parts of
France
and
Italy,
I took
Germany
in my Tour. I staid some time at
Spa
where I drank the Waters, and within the Year arrived, in perfect Health, at
Rotterdam.
On a Visit to Mr.
De Wit,
at his Villa near the City, he told me, over our Bottle, that he had, at that Time, in his House and in his Guardianship, one of the most extraordinary Women in the Universe. Though she is now, says he, advancing toward the Decline of Life, she is by far the most finished Female I ever beheld, while all she says, and all she does, give a Grace to her Person that is quite indescribable. She has a Youth too, her Son, with her, who is nearly as great a Rarity as herself; and, were it not that his Complexion is sallow, and that he is something short of a Leg, and Blind of one Eye, he would positively be the most lovely of all the human Species.
You put me in mind, said I laughing, of the
Barratarian
Wench, who was commended, to Governor
Sancho,
as the most accomplished Beauty within a League, with this Exception only, that one Eye was blind, and that the Other ran with Brimstone and Vermilion. But pray who are these Wonders?
That, said he, I either cannot or must not declare. They are evidently People of the first Fashion, and must have some uncommon Reasons for their present Conduct, as they live quite retired and admit of no Company.
I protest, said I, you have raised my Curiosity in Earnest; is there no managing so as to procure me a short
tete a tEte
with 'em? I wish there was, says he, for I long to know how far your Sentiments agree with mine in this Matter. Yesterday the Lady told me that she intended to go and reside some Time in
England,
and that I would oblige her by getting a Person, duly qualified, to initiate her and her Son in the Language of the Country. And now, if such a fine Gentleman could condescend to undress himself, you might come To-morrow, as a Person who wanted Hire, and I might introduce you to an Interview by the way of treating, provided you are upon Honour not to reveal any thing concerning them or their Place of Abode
The next Morning I waited on Mr.
De Wit,
under the Appearance of a reduced Gentleman, a Character that excites a Mixture of Contempt and Compassion.
The Lady received and spoke to me with that dignified Complacence, which awes while it engages, and, while it attracts, forbids an irreverent Familiarity. She was, indeed, every thing that my Friend had boasted of her; for though her Person was all Majesty, her Manner was all Grace. Will you answer for the Discretion of this young Man, Mr.
De Wit?
I will, Madam, says he. I bowed to them both.
On turning, I perceived that her Son eyed me with much Attention, and I, on my Part, surveyed him with the utmost Astonishment. He laboured indeed, apparently, under all the Disadvantages that my Friend described; but Enchantment lurked in his Accents and in the dimpling of his Lips; and, when he smiled, Heaven itself was infused through the fine Roundings of his Olive-coloured Countenance.
In short, I felt such a sudden Attachment to these extraordinary Personages, that I resolved to keep on the Deception, at least for a few Days, and accordingly engaged with them at a stated Salary
I entered on my Province. My young Pupil, especially, began to improve apace. And, as I was particularly cautious of observing the distant Respect that suited my Station, I grew into great Favour both with Mother and Son.
How long, Mr.
De Wit,
would say, do you propose to carry on this Farce? Till I can prevail upon them, I answered, to accompany me to
England.
For I feel my Affections so tied to them that I cannot think of parting.
On a Day as I sat with my Pupil in his Apartment, he happened to let his Book fall, and, as I stooped to take it up, the Picture of my
Matilda,
that was richly enameled, and set with Brilliants, to a great Value, suddenly loosed from its Ribbon, and dropped thro' the Bosom of my Shirt upon the Floor.
I stood concerned and greatly abashed by this Accident, but my Pupil, still more alarmed, started up and, catching at it, gazed upon it intensely. Ha, my Friend, said he, I doubt you are an Impostor. The Proprietor of this Jewel would never set himself out to hire without some sinister Design. Who, Sir, and what are you?
I own, said I, my sweet Fellow, that I am not what I seem, I am of noble Descent, and of Riches sufficient to purchase a Principality. --And what then could induce you to impose upon us as you have done? --Curiosity at first, and then the strong Inclination which I took both to you and your Mother at our first Interview; neither did I propose to reveal myself till we should reach my native Country, where all Sorts of Honours and Affluence attend you. --Tell me then, said he, whose Picture is this, a very lovely One indeed; is this the Face, Sir, of your Mistress or your Wife? (looking very inquisitively at me.) Ah, said I, she was once Mistress of thousands of Hearts, Nobles waited before her Drawing Room, and Dukes near her Toilet. She was once also my Wife: But the dear Saint is now eternally blessed in a more suitable Bridegroom.
Will you indulge me, Sir, said he, with the Story of your Loves? It may atone in great Measure for your late Deception which, however well meant, was very alarming.
Here I related to him the short pathetic History that I told you of my
Matilda,
with which he was so affected and in such violent Agitation, that I was quite affrighted for him and stopped several Times, but he insisted on my proceeding.
Ah, said he, when I concluded, should I ever be consorted in the Manner that you and your
Matty
were, how blessed I shall think myself! I have, says I, a little Cousin in
England,
perhaps the loveliest Child in the World, and if you will marry her, when you Both come to proper Years, I will settle ten Million of
French
Money upon you. Mean Time I beseech you to say nothing to your Mamma of what has passed. I will not, said he, unless I see a discretionary Necessity for it.
That Night, I went to the City to settle the Affairs of my Household. On my Return next Morning, I met Mr.
De Wit
at the Gate of his Court. Ah, my Friend, said he, our amiable Guests are departed. Gone, I cried, gone! which Way, where to, I pray you? That also is a Secret, said he, which I am not permitted to tell you. Late in the Evening there arrived a Retinue of about twenty Servants, strongly armed and mounted, with a flying Chaise and six Horses, and a Packet of Letters. The Lady did not go to Bed, but ordered all Things to be in Readiness for their Departure against the Rising of the Moon, When they were near setting out, and going to bid me adieu, Have you no Commands, Madam, said I, for the good young Man your Tutor? Not a Penny, says she, I can't afford Wages equivalent to Servants of his Quality. How, Madam, said I, is my Friend then detected? But, it was a very innocent and friendly Fraud I assure you; I should not have imposed him upon your Ladyship, did I not know you to be safer in his honourable Hands than in those of any Other.
I then gave them an Account of your Family, your vast Fortune, nor was I quite silent as to your Merits, my dear
Harry;
and I added, that I was sensible you would be deeply afflicted at the Departure of Persons to whom you were so strongly attached. There is no Help for it, replied my Lady, we have Reasons of utmost Import for not disclosing ourselves to him. Tell him, however, that we esteem him highly --affect him tenderly --shall think of him --shall pray for him --and --and --lastly --that you saw us drop a grateful Tear to his Remembrance.
As I could extort no further Intelligence from my Friend, Mr.
De Wit,
I parted in a half Kind of Chagrin, and prepared to pursue my Fugitives, though I knew not what Road to take, nor where to turn me for the Purpose. At all Adventures, however, I set out on the Way to
France,
as they appeared to be of that Country, as well by the Elegance of their Manners, as by their Fluency in the Language.
I was attended by eleven of as brave and faithful Fellows as ever thrust themselves between their Master and Danger.
On the fifth or sixth Day, as we got on the Borders of
French Flanders,
in an open and desolate Way, with a Forest far on the left, a Man rode toward us on the Spur, and approaching cried out, Help, Gentlemen, for Heaven's Sake, help to rescue my dear Ladies, who are plundered and carried away by the Banditti. They have already killed twenty of my Companions, and I alone am left to cry out for Relief --I bid him lead, and we followed!
In a few Minutes we came where we saw a great Number of the Dead and dying, covering the Sand and thin Herbage. But our Leader cried out, Stop not here, my noble Friends! Yonder they are, yonder they are, they have but just taken away all our Horses, Luggage, and Coach, and are now at the Plunder. I am weak thro' Loss of Blood, but will help you the best I may.
Here he spurred again toward the Enemy, but his Horse would not answer his Courage. I then looked about to observe if any Advantage could be taken; for I perceived that the Ruffians were still very numerous, about Thirty who had survived the late Combat; but, seeing that the Country was quite open, and that we had nothing but Resolution and our God to help us, I commended myself to him in so good a Cause, and, putting my Horse to Speed, I rode full at the Foe, confident of being well and gallantly seconded.
When the Banditti perceived us, they instantly quitted the Plunder, and gathering into a Group, they prepared their Carabines, and discharged them full at us as we drew near.
As I happened to be foremost I received the greatest Damage. One of their Balls gave me this Mark in my Neck; Another passed through the Flesh of my left Shoulder; and Another through my Hat, and left this Scar in my Head.
But, when we came in upon them, as the
Romans
say,
comminus ense,
Hand to Hand, had they doubled their Numbers, they would have been as nothing to us. My faithful
Irishman
levelled Half a Score of them with his own Hand, and in less than three Minutes we had no Opponent in the Field. I then rode up to the Coach and perceived two Ladies in it, pale as Death, and sunk senseless to the Bottom.
Immediately I ordered
James,
my Surgeon's Mate, to take a little Blood from them, and, on their Recovery, to follow me, with all my People, and all the Horses, Baggage,
&c.
to the nearest Inn. Then, feeling my Wounds begin to smart, I took my Surgeon with me and galloped away.
In about a League, we came to a large House of Entertainment, and, finding myself sick and qualmish, through the great Effusion of Blood, I had my Wounds directly dressed and, taking a Draught of Wine Whey, got into a warm Bed.
After a Night of uneasy Slumbers the Curtain of my Bed was gently drawn aside, and awaking, I heard a Voice say, in soft Music, Ah, my dear Mamma, it is he, it is he himself!
On lifting my feeble Eyes, I perceived a Vision at my Side, of a female Appearance, but more wonderful and more lovely than any thing I had ever conceived of the Inhabitants in Bliss. Her Eyes swam in Glory, and her whole Form seemed a Condensing or Substantiation of Harmony and Light.
While I gazed in silent Astonishment, I heard another Voice say, Don't you know us, my Son, my dear Mr.
Clinton,
don't you remember your Pupils, don't you remember your blind, lame and tawny
Lewis?
he is now turned into that passable Girl there, whose Honour and whose Life you Yesterday preserved at the great Peril of your own.
Here, seizing her Hand, I pressed it to my Lips and cried, Am I then so blessed, my honoured Madam, as to have done some Service to the two dearest Objects of my Heart's fixed Affections? Soft, says she, none of these Transports, your Surgeon tells us that Repose is necessary for you. Mean time we will go and prepare the best Regimen that the Place can afford for your Nourishment. And, after that, I will send a Dispatch to my Lord, and let him know how far, how very deeply He, and we, and all his House are indebted to you.
For that Day, and the following Week, as my Fever grew something high, I saw no more of the Daughter, and the Mother staid no longer than to administer something to me, or barely to enquire how I was. At length I got a Cool and began to recover, when the former Vision descended upon my ravished Senses, the vision of that
Louisa,
the Sight of whom never failed to bring Cheer to the Eyes and Delight to the Hearts of all Beholders.
They sat down by my Side, and my Lady, taking my Hand and looking tenderly at me, what would you think, said she smiling, of my
Louy
for a Wife? Ah, Madam, I exclaimed, She would be too much of Bliss, too precious, too glorious, too overpowering for the Heart and Senses of any Mortal. Don't tell me, cries my Lady, in my Eyes, my
Harry,
you are full as amiable for a Husband as she can be for a Wife. Beside, you have earned her, my Son, she is your own dear Purchase, by a Service of infinite Value, and at the Price of your precious Blood. She has told me the Story of your first Love, and the Recollection of it never fails to bring Tears from my Eyes. But I must, hereafter, hear the Whole from your own Mouth, with all your other Adventures, the smallest Incident will be very interesting to me, I assure you. O, my dear, my sweet Fellow, you are to a Hair the very Man I wish for my
Louisa,
the brave, the tender, gentle and generous Heart; just the Thing I would have wished for myself, when I was at the Age of my
Louy.
But, my dearest, my honoured Madam, loved and honoured next to Heaven, you have not yet told me how your
Louisa
is inclined. Whereupon, the bewitching Creature, archly smiling, and blushing, and reaching forth a polished Hand of living Alabaster, Here, she cried, I present you with this Trifle, in Token that I don't hate you  very much.
My
Clinton,
said my Lady, I have sent off my favourite Servant
Gerard,
with my Dispatches to my Lord. He is the only One that remains of all my Retinue. Your Surgeon has dressed his Wound, and pronounces it so slight as not to incommode him in his Journey. I chose him more particularly for the Carrier of my Purposes, as he was the Witness of your Valour, as he can testify to my Lord with what Intrepidity you rushed foremost, into the Thick of the Assassins, and with what unexampled Bravery you defeated, in a short Time, a Body of four or five times your Number. These Things, I trust, will have their due Weight; for, though my Lord is of a lofty and inflexible Nature, he is yet alive to the Feelings of Honour and Justice, so that our Affairs have a hopeful and auspicious Aspect. But, you are a little flushed, my Child; we will not encroach further upon you till To-morrow.
During the three following Weeks, though confined to my Bed, I was permitted to sit up, and my Wounds, though not skinned, were healing apace. What Happiness did I enjoy during that ecstatic Interval! the maternal and filial Angels scarce ever left my Side. One Morning, when I just awoke from a terrifying Dream, they both entered with Peace and Comfort and Healing in their Countenances.
What is the Matter, my
Harry,
said my Lady, your Face does not seem composed to that Fortitude and Complacence which is seated in your Heart. Ah, Madam, I cried, I have been all Night tormented with the most alarming and horrible Visions I ever had in my Life. Three times I dreamed, successively, that my
Louisa
and I were walking Hand in Hand, through the Fields of
Elysium,
or on the Banks of
Meander,
or in the Gardens of
Alcinous,
gazing and drinking in large Draughts of Love from Each Other: when at one Time a huge and tremendous Dragon, and again a sudden Earthquake, and again an impetuous Hurricane came, and caught, and severed us far asunder.
But my Visions, my honest Friend, said the heavenly smiling
Louisa,
have been of a very different Nature. I dreamed that, while we were standing on the Brink of a frightful Precipice together, your
Matilda
descended, all celestial, and a thousand Times more lovely than she appears in the lovely Portrait that you carry about you. At first I feared that she came to reclaim you to herself; but, instead of that, she smiled upon me and began to caress me, and taking my right Hand she put it into Yours. Then, ascending in her Brightness, she hovered awhile on high, and casting down upon me a Look of fixed Love, she gave me a Beck with her Hand, as it were to follow, and was immediately lost in Glory.
O, my dear Children, cried the Marchioness (for such she was) might I but once see ye united, how I should lift my Head! or rather how satisfied I should be to lay it down in Peace, having nothing further to care for on this Side of Eternity.
That Night I slept sounder than usual, and did not awake till the Day was something advanced. On opening the Curtain, I saw
James
seated in a moody Posture by the Side of my Bed. How are the Ladies,
James?
said I. Gone, Sir. Gone, gone! I cried out. Yes, Sir, gone indeed, but with very heavy Hearts, and Both of them drowned in Tears. Here has been a large Body of the
Gens d'Armes
sent for them, so that there was no resisting. Poor
Gerard
went on his Knees to his Lady, to beg Permission to throw himself at your honoured Feet, as he said, and to bid you adieu, but She would not allow him. Mean time, she charged me with this Watch and Ring, and this Letter for your Honour.
I caught at the Letter and, tearing it open, read over and over, a thousand Times, what will for ever be engraven in my Memory and on my Heart.
WE leave you, we leave you, most Beloved of Men, and we are miserable in so doing, but alas we are not our own Mistresses. My Lord, for this Time, has proved unjust and ungrateful; and refuses your
Louisa,
as well to my Prayers; as to your infinite Merits. He has affianced her, as it seems, to a Prince of the Blood, and his Ambition has blinded him to all other Considerations. Be not yet in Despair, we shall exert our very utmost to get this injurious Sentence reversed; and if your
Louisa
inherits my Blood or Spirit, not all the Engines in
France
will ever compel her to give her Hand to Another. In the mean Time, follow us not, come not near us, we beseech You. Should you be discovered, you will inevitably be assassinated, and we also should perish in your Loss, my Son. We are distracted by our Fears for you, and it is this Fear that has prevented us from disclosing ourselves fully to You. Keep up your Correspondence, however, with our Friend
De Wit,
and thro' him you shall learn the first favourable Turn that happens in our Affairs. I leave You my Ring in Token of your being the wedded of our Heart, and
Louisa
leaves you her Watch, to remind you of Time past, and to look upon, when at Leisure, and think of
your ELOISA DE  
your LOUISA DE  
Yes, I cried, ye precious Relicks, ye delicious Memorandums, to my Lips, to my Heart! Be ye the Companions of my Solirude, the Consolers of my Affliction! sooner shall this Arm be torn off, and Time itself pass away, than One or the Other shall be divided from my Custody.
Ah, how useless are Admonitions to the Impatience of a Lover! Fervent Love can know no Fears. I was no sooner able to sit my Horse than I set off directly for
Paris,
with this Precaution only, that my People would call me by my Mother's maiden Name of
Goodall.
As we knew not the Names or Titles of those after whom we were in search, our Eyes became our only Inquisitors, and we daily ranged the Town, poreing into every Carriage of Distinction for a Sight of the Mother or Daughter; and even prying among the Lacqueys and Liveries for the Face of our Friend
Gerard.
On a Day, as my valiant
Tirlah
and I rode a broad, reconnoitring the Suburbs, we heard a Noise and a Shout of Distress that issued from a distant Farm-House; and, as we hastened up, the Tumult grew louder, and the Cry of Help! and Murder! was several Times repeated.
We instantly knocked at the Door, but were refused Admittance; when
Tirlah,
alighting, ran against it and, breaking through Bars and all with his Foot, threw the Door off its Hinges.
On entring, we saw a Man stretched on the Broad of his Back in the Floor, with four Others about him, who were going to use him very barbarously. Stay your Hands, I cried, I will shoot the first Man through the Head who shall dare to proceed in this Business.
Why Sir, said a young Fellow, rising, this Man wanted to be gracious with my pretty young Wife, I caught him in the very Attempt, and so I think it but fair and honest to spoil him at such Sport for Time to come. Ay but, said I, you might murder him, and I can't suffer that. Come, my Friend, no Harm appears to be done as yet, and if he pays a handsome Penance for the Wickedness of his Intention, I would advise you to pass Matters over for the present. Say, how much do you demand? Five hundred Louis d'Ors, said the Fellow; if he pays that, he shall be quit for this Turn.
Five hundred Louis d'Ors! I exclaimed; why, all the Clothes on his Back are not worth the hundredth Part of the Sum. True, Master, said the Peasant, winking, but his Pockets may happen to be richer than his Clothes. Well, said I, if he secures you in Half the Sum, I think you may be satisfied. Why, Master, since you have said it, I will not go back. Whereupon the astonished Prisoner was permitted to rise.
What do you say, you sad Man you, are you willing to pay this Fellow the Sum I agreed for, in Compensation of the Injury you attempted to do him? I am, Sir, said he, with many Thanks for your Mediation. Then, hastily putting his Hand to his Pocket, he took out a Note on the Customs which, with some small Matter of Cash, made up the Money, and we departed the House together.
As I was just going to mount, he came up and accosted me with Elegance and Dignity. Sir, said he, You have made me your Debtor, beyond Expression, beyond the Power of Princes to pay. Be pleased however to accept the little I have about me, here are five thousand
Louis,
in this little Note-Book. Not a Penny, Sir, indeed, I am by no Means in want. You must not refuse, said he, some Token of my Acknowledgment, here is a Stone valued at double the Sum I offered you. Then, taking from a Pocket the Diamond Button of his Hat, he presented it to me. You must excuse me, Sir, said I, I can accept of no Consideration for doing an Action of Humanity, and I rejoice to have preserved a Person of your Distinction and Generosity. I then turned my Horse, and, though he called after me, I rode away, being neither desirous of knowing or being known.
My Researches hitherto being altogether fruitless, I imagined I might, with better Likelihood, meet my Beloved, in the public Walks, public Theatres, or Rooms of distinguished Resort.
One Night, as I sat alone in a side Box at the Opera, intently gazing and hungering around for some Similitude of my
Louisa;
there entered One of the loveliest young Fellows I ever beheld. He carelessly threw himself beside me, looked around; withdrew his Eyes; and then looked at me with such a long and piercing Inquisition as alarmed me, and gave me Cause to think I was discovered.
Though the
French
seldom hesitate, he seemed at once backward and desirous of accosting me. At length he entered upon Converse touching the Drama and the Music, and spoke with judgement and Elegance superior to the Matter; while I answered him with due Complacence, but in a Manner that partook of that Regardlesness for Trifles which then sat at my Heart.
Between the Acts, he turned and cast his Eye suddenly on me. Sir, says he, do you believe that there is such a Thing as Sympathy? Occasionally, Sir, I think it may have its Effect, though I can't credit all the Wonders that are reported of it. I am sorry for that, said he, as I ardently wish that your Feelings were the same as mine at this Instant. I never saw you before, Sir, I have no Knowledge of you, and yet I declare that, were I to choose an Advocate in Love, a Second in Combat, or a Friend in Extremity, You, You are the very Man upon whom I would pitch.
I answered not, but seized his Hand and pressed it to my Bosom. I conceive, Sir, continued he, notwithstanding your Fluency in the Language, that you are not a Native. My Name is
D'Aubigny,
I live at such a Place, and, if you will do me the Pleasure of a single Visit, all the Honours, Respects, and Services, that our House can confer, shall be yours without Reserve. Sir, said I, I am of
England,
my Name is
Goodall,
and as soon as a certain Affair allows me to admit of any Acquaintance in
Paris,
You shall be the first Elected of my Arms and my Heart.
In a few Nights after, as
Tirlah
and I were turning a Corner of the
Rue de St. Jaques,
we saw three Men, with their Backs to the Wall, attacked by nearly three times their Number. We did not hesitate a Moment what Part to take. At the first Pass, I ran one of the Assassins through the Body;
Tirlah
levelled Two more with his oaken Staff, and the rest took to Flight.
Gentlemen, said One of the Three, I thank you for this brave and seasonable Assistance.    
Roche,
run for a Surgeon, I am wounded, I doubt, dangerously.    
Pierre,
lend me your Arm  Come, Gentlemen, we have but a little Way to my House.
Though the Night was too dark for examining Features, I thought that the Voice was not quite unknown to me. Within a few Minutes we arrived at a Palace that retired, inward, from the Houses that were ranged on either Hand On pulling the Hanger of a Bell, the great Door opened upon a sumptuous Hall, which led to a Parlour, enlightened by a silver Sconce that hung from the Vaulting.
As we entered, the Master turned short upon me, and looking full in my Face, and starting and lifting his Hands in Surprise, Great Ruler of Events! he cried, the very Man I wished my Brother and Companion thro' Life, and this is the very Man You have sent to my Rescue!
Just then the Surgeon arrived, and I heard him hastily asking where the Marquis was. On entering, he said, I'm sorry for your Misfortune, my Lord, but Matters may be better than we apprehend. And immediately he took out his Case of Instruments. One of the Ruffians, said the Marquis, before I was aware, came behind and ran me through the Back.
The Surgeon then tipped open his Lordship's Wastecoat, and changed Colour on seeing his Shirt drenched in Blood. But, getting him quickly undressed, and having probed his Wound, he struck his Hands together and cried, Courage, my Friends! it is only a Flesh-business, the Weapon has passed clear of the Ribs and Vitals.
As soon as the Marquis's Wound was dressed, and that we had got him to Bed, I fancy, Sir, said I to the Surgeon, I may have some small Occasion for a Cast of your Office, I feel a little Smart in my Sword Arm.
On stripping, he found that a chance Thrust had entered about Half an Inch into the Muscle above my Elbow, and had ripped up some of the Skin. But, he quickly applied the proper Dressing, and I was preparing to take my Leave, when the Marquis cried out, You must not think of parting, my dear Friend; You are the Master of the Master here, and Lord of this House and of All that is in it.
The Surgeon then ordered his Lordship to compose himself as soon as possible; and, having wished him a good Night, I sent
Tirlah
to my Lodgings to let my People know that I was well and in friendly Hands. I was then conducted by the Domestics to a superb Apartment, where a Bed was prepared, and where a small Supper of Elegancies lay fuming on the Sideboard.
Having swallowed a few Bits, with a Glass or two of Wine, I rose and sauntered through the Room, musing on my
Louisa,
heavily sighing, and nearly despairing of being ever able to find her.
Some time after, I sat down, to undress and get to Bed, when a Number of the Officers of Justice silently entered my Chamber, seize'd my Sword that I had put off, and coming whisperingly to me, commanded me to accompany them, without making any Noise.
I saw that it was Madness to resist, and, as I went with them, I observed that two of the Family Liveries had joined themselves to the Officers. It then instantly occurred that I was in the House of my Rival; that the Marquis was the very Person to whom my
Louisa
had been destined; that I was somehow discovered; and that they were conducting me to the
Bastille,
of which I had heard as many affrighting Stories as are usually told of the Inquisition.
Ah, Traitor, said I to myself, is it thus you serve the Man who but now saved your Life at the Expense of his own Blood? Let no One hereafter trust to the bleating of the Lamb or the courting of the Turtle; the roaring of the Lion, and the Pounces of the Vulture, may thus deceitfully lurk under the One and the Other.
After passing some Streets, they took me to a large House, where dwelt One of their chief Magistrates, being also a Member of their Parliament. Having knocked respectfully at the Gate and waited some Time, at length we were admitted, and they took me to a kind of Lobby, where we staid, while One of the Posse went to advise the Justiciary of my Attendance. At length he returned and, accosting me in a Tone of surly and discouraging Authority, Friend, says he, my Lord is engaged and not at Leisure to Night; To-morrow, perhaps, he may hear what you have to plead in your own Defence. So saying, he and his Fellows thrust me into a waste Room, and locked and chained the Door upon me, and, laughing, bid me to warm or cool my Heels at Pleasure.
Fool, Fool that I was, said I, to quit the Side of my brave and faithful Companions, how quickly should we have discomfited this Magistrate and all his Host! but I must be a Knight Adventurer forsooth, and draw my Sword in the Defence of every Scoundrel who goes the Street.
I then went and felt the Windows, to try if I could force a Passage for making my Escape; but, finding that all were grated with strong and impassable Bars of Iron; O, I cried, that this Marquis, this ungrateful
D'Aubigny
were now in his fuilest Strength and opposed to me, Point to Point, that I might reclaim from him, in an Instant, the Life I have given!
I then traversed the Room with an inconsistent Pace, now rashly resolving on furious Events; and again more sedately deliberating on what I had to do. Till, having ruminated thus for the Remainder of the Night, I at last became more at Ease, and resigned myself to the Dispensations of All-disposing Providence, though, I confess, with a gloomy and reluctant Kind of Content.
When the Day appeared and was something advanced, I heard my Door unlocking and the Chain taking away, and I concluded that they came to summon me to my Tryal. But, instead of the Officers of Justice, I saw near twenty Men in the Marquis's Livery, who silently bowed down before me, and respectfully showed me, with their Hand, the Way out of my Prison. I followed them also in Silence, and getting into the Street, I wished to know if I was really free, and turned from them down the Way that led to my Lodgings; whereupon they cast themselves before me, and, in a supplicating Posture, besought me to go with them.
Finding then that I was still their Prisoner, I gave a longing Look out for my valiant Fellows; but, as they did not appear, I suffered myself to be reconducted to the Marquis's Palace, and followed my obsequious Commanders into the proud Apartment, to which they had led me the preceding Night, and where, bowing to the Ground, they all left me and retired.
As I had been much fatigued in Body and Mind, I threw myself on the Bed, leaving Events to their Issues, and fell into a Kind of starting and intermitting Slumber, when I heard a Voice, at my Side, shout out, in once loved Accents, O, my dearest Mamma, it is He, indeed, 'tis he, it is he himself!
On this I awoke, and roused myself, and lifting my languid Eyes, and fixing them on the Object that stood before me; and are you then, I cried, are you also,
Louisa,
in the Confederacy against me ?    Say nothing, you are not the
Louisa
I once knew.    I will arise, I will go forth, not all your Gates and Bars and Bolts shall hold me, I will tear my Body and my Soul too, if possible, from you for ever !    Go to your Betrothed, to your Beloved! and leave me to perish, it is a Matter of no Import  I am yet pleased that I saved your Chosen; as it may one Day serve to reproach you with the Merits of the Man whom he has so unworthily treated!
I could no more. A long Silence on all Sides ensued, save the Language that was uttered by Heavings and Sobbings. When the Marchioness, coming and casting herself on her Knees by my Bed; you have Reason, Sir, she exclaimed, you have Reason to reproach and to detest every Branch of our ungrateful Family for ever! you saved myself, you saved my Daughter, and yet the Father and the Husband proved averse to your Deservings, and turned your Benefits into Poison. You have now saved our Son, the only One who can convey our Name to Posterity, and yet, from the Beginning, you have received nothing in Return, save Wounds, Pains and Sickness, Losses, Damages and Disappointments, and, at this very Day, the most ignominious Usage, where you merited endless Thanks and everlasting Renown. Blame my
Louisa
then, and me, but blame not my Son, Sir, for these unworthy Events; he is quite innocent of them, he is shocked and distracted by them; he respects and loves you more than ever
Jonathan
loved the Son of
Jesse.
But he will not, he dare not see you, till we have, in some Measure, made his Peace.
How, Madam! I cried,  but, no more of that Posture, it pains me past bearing  Is it a Fact, can it be possible that the Marquis
D'aubigny
should be your Son? Is he not of the Blood royal, the very Rival whom your Letter rendered so formidable to me? and, was it not by his Order that I was disgracefully confined in a Dungeon all Night?
No, no, said my Lady, he would have suffered the Rack first. He is in Despair, quite inconsolable on that Account. Let us go, my dearest
Harry,
let us go and carry Comfort to him of whom you are the Beloved.
Ah no, my Mamma, cried out
Louisa,
let us put no Constraint on Mr.
Clinton,
I pray you! there has been enough of Confinement, we leave him now to his Liberty; let him go, even where, and to whom he likes best. Once, indeed, we could have tied this all-conquering Champion with the Spinning of a Silkworm; but now he tells us that neitheir Gates, Bars, not Bolts shall hold him to us.
Here, I threw myself precipitately at her Feet, Pardon, pardon, my
Louisa,
I cried, O pardon the misdeeming Transports of your Lover, and pardon the Faults that Love alone could commit. My Enemies are foreign to me, they and their Injuries affect me not; but you are Regent within, my
Louisa,
you sit throned in my Heart, and the Presumption of an Offence from you makes strange Uproar in my Soul. Well, says she, reaching her Hand and smiling through Tears, since it is so, poor Soul, here is the golden Sceptre for you, I think I must take you to Mercy.
I caught her Hand, and impressed my very Spirit on the Wax, and my Lady, casting her Arms about us, and kissing us both, in Turns, requested that we should go and carry some Consolation to her dear repining
Lewis.
As we entered his Chamber, the Marchioness cried out, here he comes, my Son, we have brought your Beloved to you, yet not your Mr.
Goodall,
as you thought, but One who is, at once, both your Good Angel and our good Angel, even our own
Harry Clinton,
the Betrothed of our Souls.
I took my Seat on the Side of the Marquis's Bed, and looking fondly upon him, would have enquired of his Health, but my Speech for the Time was overpowered by my Affections. Then, taking my Hand in his, the Power of this Hand, says he, I have found to be great, but, has your Heart the Power to pardon the Insults and Outrage you have received in the House of him who is so deeply your Debtor? My Lord, said I, I have already drank largely of
Lethe
on that Head; nothing but my Diffidence of your Regard can offend me.
You know not, said my Lady, you know not yet, my dear
Harry,
how this provoking Business came about. I will explain it in a few Words.
On our Return to
Paris,
and on our Remonstrances to my late Lord of the inestimable Services you had rendered to his Family, he enquired your Character among the
English;
and, notwithstanding the Report of the Nobility of your Birth and your yet nobler Qualities, hearing also that you had acquired Part of your Fortune in Trade, he conceived an utter Contempt for you, and took an utter Aversion to you.
Some Time after, as he took Notice that
Louisa
and I wanted our Watch and our Ring, I dreaded his Displeasure, and gave him Room to think that the Robbers had taken them from us in
Flanders;
and this Report became current among our Domestics.
In the mean Time my Lord became importunate with our
Louisa,
respecting her Marriage with the Prince of
C
  who was then with the Army, and her Prayers and Tears, hitherto, had been the only Artillery which she had used in her Defence. But, when the Couriers brought Word that the Prince was on his Return, my Lord sent for
Louisa,
and gave her instant and absolute Orders to prepare for her Nuptials. But she, full as positively and peremptorily, replied that her Soul was already wedded, that she would never prostitute her Body where her Heart was an Alien, and that all the Tortures of the Inquisition should not change her Resolution. Her Father, thereupon, rose to such ungovernable Fury, that, with one Blow of his Hand he struck her senseless to his Feet. But, when he saw my Lamb, my Darling, all pale and as dead before him, the Tide of Nature returned, and the Conflict of his Passions became so violent, that an Impostume broke in his Stomach, and, falling, he was suffocated, and expired on the Spot.
Soon after, the Prince arrived. He had never seen my Daughter, but his Ambition to possess a Beauty of whom the grand Monarch, himself, was said to have been enamoured, had caused him to demand her in Marriage. For that Purpose he also did us the Honour of a Visit.
Louisa
refused to appear; and I told his Highness, with the best Grace I could, that she happened to be pre-engaged. In a few Days after, he met my Son in the
Thuilleries
and accosted him to the same Intent, but my Son had been previously prejudiced in your Favour, my
Harry,
and answered the Prince with so cold or so haughty an Air, that further Words ensued, they both drew, and his Highness was slightly wounded, but, as Company interposed, the Affair was hushed up and, shortly after, the Prince was killed in a nightly Broil upon the
Pont neuf.
We then wrote to our Friend
De Wit
to advertise you of these Matters, and to hasten you hither; but you arrived, my Child, you arrived before there could be any Expectation of an Answer.
Two Days ago, as I observed that my Lamb's Spirits were something dejected, I prevailed upon her to take an Airing to our Country Villa. On our Return this Morning, we were struck half dead with the News that our
Lewis
was wounded and dangerously ill in his Bed. We flew into his Room, and were still more alarmed to find him in a Fury that is not to be imagined, while
Jacome,
his old Steward, was on his Knees, all pale and quaking at a Distance before him. Villain, he cried, what have you done with my Friend, what have you done with my Champion, the Preserver of my Life? --Please your Lordship, said he, trembling, I took him for a Highwayman, I saw my Lady's Ring and my young Mistress's Watch in his Custody, I will swear to the Property before the Parliament of
Paris,
and so I lodged him in Prison --till --till   
Go, Wretch, cried my Son, recall your Information, take all your Fellows with you, and instantly bring me back my Friend, or your Ears shall be the Forfeit, but conduct him to his own Chamber, I cannot yet bear to see him, I cannot bear the Reproach that his Eye must cast upon me.
All afflicted, and yet more astonished, my
Louisa
and I sat down by the Side of my Son, casting Looks of Surprise and enquiring Doubt on Each Other. At length I said, what is this that I hear of our Ring, and our Watch? Alas, he is no Highwayman who took them from us, they were our own free Gift, a Mite in Return for a Million of Services. But do you know any thing of the Possessor? I know, answered
Lewis,
that he is the loveliest of Mankind, the Preserver of my Life, and that his Name is
Goodall.
Ah! screamed out
Louisa,
there we are lost again; this
Goodall
must certainly have murdered our precious
Clinton,
and possessed himself of our Gifts, he would never have parted with them while he had Life. O my Sister, said my Son, when you see my Friend
Goodall
you will think nothing of your
Harry Clinton;
why, why were you so hasty, so precipitate in your Choice? a Robber, a Murderer? no. Had I a thousand Lives, I would pawn them all for the Probity that Heaven has made apparent in the Face of my Preserver.
It is with Shame and great Reluctance, my dearest Brother, that, at Times, I recite Passages tending so much to my own Praise; and yet, did I omit them, I should do great Injustice to the kind and amiable Partiality of Those who were so fondly my Lovers and my Beloved.
But, Madam, said I to the Marchioness, did you not hint something of his Majesty's being enamoured of my
Louisa?
Ah, such a Rival would be a terrible Business indeed, especially in a Country of unlimited Power.
There is no Fear of that now, said my Lady. The King has changed his Fancy, from young Mistresses and old Counsellors, to young Counsellors and old Mistresses. But, what I mentioned was once very serious and alarming.
My
Louisa
was scarce turned of fourteen, when the Dutchess
de Choisseul
requested her Company to
Marlay
where the Court then was. The King fixed his Eye on her and enquired who she was, but took no further Notice at that Time. Missing her, however, at the next, and again at the following Drawing-Room, he asked the Marquis what became of his fair Daughter, said he had a Place in his Eye for her, and desired, in an Accent of Authority, that he would send her to Court.
The Marquis instantly took the Alarm. He was ever jealous of his Honour, and singularly nice in Matters of female Reputation. He gave his Majesty a Sort of equivocal Consent, and, hurrying Home, ordered me directly to prepare for carrying my Daughter out of the
French
Dominions. The Night was employed in hastening and packing. We disguised our
Louisa
in the Manner as you saw her metamorphosed at
Rotterdam,
and set off for
Holland
before Day. The rest you know, my
Clinton,
as You were the principal Mover in all our Concerns. --But, tell me, my
Lewis,
can you conjecture on what Account those Assassins set upon you? --I declare, Madam, said the Marquis, I cannot; perhaps they mistook me for Another; or, now I recollect, it might be owing to some familiar Chat which I had, the other Night, with a pretty Opera Girl, who is said to be in the keeping of a very great Man. But, Madam, you forgot to tell my Brother how my Father was banished, on Account of
Louisa,
to his paternal Seat in
Languedoc,
on the Borders of the
Mediterranean.
Very true, said the Marchioness, and was not recalled till Madame
Maintenon
was taken into supreme Favour.
But, I wonder what is become of our faithful
Gerard,
I thought that he would have been the first to come and to throw himself at the Feet of his Hero. Indeed, my
Harry,
he would have tired Any, who loved you less, with his Praises and perpetual talking of you and your Exploits. --O, here he comes. --Step in,
Gerard.
Is there any One in this Company that you remember, beside the Family?
Gerard
then advanced with a half-frantic Aspect, and kneeling, and grappling at my Hand, seemed desirous of devouring it. God be praised, he cried, God be praised, my noble my glorious Master, that I see you once again, and above all that I have the Blessing of seeing you in a Place, where a Throne of beaten Gold should be raised to your Honour. O, had I been here, all Sorts of Respects and Worships, instead of Indignities, should have been paid to your Deservings But, I have provided for the Hangdog
Jacome,
I have tied him Neck and Heels, and tumbled him into the dark Vault.
Ay, said I, but, my good Friend
Gerard,
I have not yet got my Share of Satisfaction upon him, pray show me where he is. I then followed
Gerard
to the Place where the deplorable Wretch was cast; and, cutting all his Cords, I led him back to the Company, and warmly joined his Petition for Pardon and Restoration.
As soon as
Jacome
and
Gerard
were withdrawn. Ah, my Brother, cried the Marquis, what new Name shall we find for a Man of your new Character? Moreover, what shall we do with you, what shall we do for you? You have quite overpowered us, we sink, we drown under the Sense of our Obligations. We have nothing worth your Acceptance, save this simple Wench, and what is She in Comparison of what we owe you? Ah, I cried, She is That without whom all Things are nothing; She is the living Treasure, the
Rachel
of
Rachels;
seventy times seven Years were too short a Service for her! I would not exchange this little pearly Joint of this very little Finger for all the Gems that glow in the Mines of
India,
and so saying, I pressed the precious Finger with my Lips; while
Louisa
turned upon me an Eye of such ineffable Satisfaction and melting Acknowledgment, as sunk upon my Soul and wrapt it in
Elysium.
Ay but, my
Harry,
said the Marquis, you ought not to prize your
Louy
as much as me; She did not fall in love with you at first Sight as I did. How do you know that, honest Friend, cried
Louisa.
Is there a Necessity that our Tongues as well as our Blushes should be Telltales? Are Maidens to trumpet forth their Thoughts, like You broad fronted Men,
whose Ornament is your Boldfacedness.
Thus happy, above All stiled happy upon Earth, we joyed and lived in Each Other, continuing a mutual Commerce of delightful Sensibilities and Love for Love.
Alas, our blissful Junto was soon to be broken in upon. In a few Days, One of the royal Pages came and intimated to the Marchioness that his Majesty required her immediate Presence at Court. And we remained in a Kind of fearful and fluctuating Suspense, till her Return.
As She entered, the Consternation in her Countenance instantly struck an Alarm to all our Hearts. O, my Children, my dear, my dear Children, we must part, she cried, and that too, speedily. Our Hour of Bliss is past, our Sunshine is over, and the Clouds gather thick upon us, heavy laden with Wretchedness. Alas, my Heart misgave me ever since that inauspicious Encounter the other Morning. As we came from our Villa a great Funeral met us (a bad Omen as I have heard) Our Carriage stopped to let them pass, and the Carriage of the Duke of
Ne  rs
drove up beside us. As we remained within a few Paces of each other, he gazed at
Louisa
with such an unmannered Intenseness, as caused her to colour and turn aside. However, he accosted us not, nor enquired concerning us; it seems our Arms and Livery were too sure an Indication of our Name and Quality. In short, on my approaching the Presence, the King affected to smile very graciously upon me, and said, I have provided, Madam, a noble and princely Husband for your Daughter; it is the Duke of
Ne  rs.
Ah, I cried, bending my Knee in a supplicating Posture, my Daughter is already engaged by Bands of the most endearing and indissoluble Obligations, to a Man who has preserved the Lives and Honours of all our Family, to a Man who, I trust, by his eminent Courage and Qualities, will become the brightest Jewel in your Majesty's Crown. Madam, said he severely, you must withdraw your Election, I find I have ordered Matters superior to your Merits, but my Will is the Law here, and shall be obeyed. I rose, dejectedly curtsied, and withdrew without Reply.
Ah, I exclaimed, on what Summit does this Rival hold his Abode? I will instantly go and scale it, and at once put an End to his Life and his Pretensions! My Lady then, throwing her Arms about my Neck, and pressing her Lips to my Cheek, what Romance, says she, is this, my
Harry?
would you at once fight the Duke, and the King, and the whole Army of
France?
No, my Child, Prudence reduces us to more salutary, however deplorable Measures. We must part, my
Harry,
we must part this very Night, and my
Louisa
must depart with you. My Chaplain shall, this Minute, unite you by Ties that Death alone can sunder. Alas, my precious Babes, I little expected that your Nuptials should be celebrated by Tears and Wailings! But, better these than no Nuptials. When You are once joined I shall care little for myself. And, if we meet no more here, we may yet meet hereafter, as happily as the Barbarians who tear us asunder.
The Chaplain was then summoned and, having performed his Office, no Congratulations nor Salutations ensued, save a Kiss and a Sigh of mine on the Hand of my Angel. The Marquis then called me, and drawing me down to him, he pressed me ardently to his Bosom, cried O my
Harry,
O my
Harry!
burst into Tears and dismissed me.
Mean while, all was in Bustle and Hurry throughout the Palace. No Festival was prepared, no Bridal Bed laid. Horses, Arms, and Carriages were all the Cry, and the Marchioness, with an anguishing Heart, but amazing Resolution, issued her Orders with a Presence of Mind that seemed serene in the Midst of Tempest.
I then sent for my brave Fellows, with Orders to double their Arms, and to double their Ammunition. They came accordingly. It was now within three Hours of Day. All was dispatched, all in Readiness, the Carriages were at the Gate. Silence sat on every Tongue and a Tear on every Cheek. I threw myself at my Mother's Feet, I clasped, I clung to them; she wept aloud over me, but neither of us uttered a Word. When, rending myself away, I took my sobbing
Louisa
under my Arm, seated her gently in her Chariot, placed myself to support her, and away we drove.
When we got clear of the Town, and were speeding on the Way, my
Louisa
started and cried out, O, how fast, how very fast they take me from you, my Mamma! Whither, whither do they carry me, perhaps never to return, never to meet again! I answered not, but kissed her Head and drew her gently to me, and she seemed more at Ease. But, after a while, I felt her Agitation at my Bosom, and she exclaimed, From my Birth to this Hour of Wee, my blessed Mamma, never was I from those dear Arms of yours; shall I ever, shall I ever again behold those Eyes that used to look with such Fondness upon me?
Here, I could no longer contain, but taking her Hands between mine, and weeping upon them, I said, will you then, my Angel, are you resolved upon breaking the Heart of your
Harry?
O no, says she, no, not for Worlds upon Worlds would I break that dear and feeling Heart, the Heart of my Heart, the Heart of which I became enamoured. She then leaned her Head fondly over and, in awhile, fell fast asleep; while my Arms gently encircled and my Soul hovered over her, as the Wings of a Turtle over her new-begotten.
When She awoke and found herself so endearingly situated; she gave me a Look that overvalued the Ransom of a Monarch; she kissed my Hands, in turns, she kissed the Skirts of my Garments. O, she cried, I will endeavour, I will do my best to be more composed. I know I ought not to repine. I am too rich, too happy. I ought to wish for nothing more, I ought to wish for no One more; since my
Harry
is so near me, since I have him to myself. --But --but --And here her lovely Lips began again to work; and the Drops that trembled in her living Brilliants could hardly be restrained from breaking Prison. --Soon after, the Grief of her Heart overweighed her Spirits, and she fell again asleep into my Arms, that opened of themselves to receive her.
On setting up for the Night, I rejoiced to find that my
Louisa
was something more alive; and that her Repose on the Way had greatly deducted from the Fatigue that I apprehended.
When we had eaten a Bit of Supper, She looked to me and from me, with downcast Lids; and, with changing Looks and a faultring Accent began to say; Will you, will you permit me, my Love, to be Regent for a little Time, and in a very trifling Matter? Allow me only to be Governess for a few Days, and I promise that you shall be my supreme Lord and sweet Master all the rest of my Life.
I swear, said I in a Transport, by that precious Head, that you are already Queen-Regent of all my Thoughts and Actions; and that, during my Existence, you shall dispose of all that I have and all that I am, at Pleasure.
O then, said she, my
Harry,
we must lye apart for some Nights. I would not have our chaste and blessed Bridal stained by Tears and Dirges. Nay, no Hesitation, you have sworn that I am Ruler, and I will be obeyed.
I then cast myself at her Knees and, hiding my Face in her Lap, Cruel, cruel
Louisa,
I cried, I find You are not yet mine. What shall I do to earn You? But, I will be patient, if possible; I would not, for the World, put the Colour of Constraint on the Love of my Beloved. And so I kissed her Gown, in Token of due Homage.
Arising, I called her Maids, and desired that they would order their Mistress's Chamber to be prepared, as also a Bed for themselves in the same Apartment. I then secretly ordered that a Pallet should be spread for myself before her outer Door, and, laying myself down, with my Arms at my Side, I guarded, like the Dragon of old, the precious Fruit of my
Hesperia.
At length we reached
Calais,
and immediately sent to the Beach to engage a Ship for wafting us over to the Land of Freedom and Rights, but the Wind was contrary.
Mean while the Day advanced toward Evening, and my
Louisa
and I sat together in the Arbour of a little Pleasure-Garden that lay behind the House, when
James
came hastening to us and cried, Hide yourself, Madam, for Heaven's Sake hide yourself! here is the Duke de
Ne  rs
with a large Party of the King's light Horse.
Poor
Louisa
started up and attempted to fly, but She trembled and grew faint, and sunk down again on her Seat.
James
said I, stay and take care of your Mistress. Then, turning with hasty Steps to the House, I recommended my Spirit in a short Ejaculation, and entered, determined that the Duke should accompany me in Death. His Highness was in the Parlour. I advanced fiercely toward him. So, Sir, says he, you have cost us a warm Chase --Heavens, what do I see! --and, so crying out, he threw himself back into an Arm Chair, all panting, and his Aspect working with Distraction and Disappointment. --Cursed Chance! he again exclaimed, are you the Man,
Clinton?
--Ah, I must not hurt You, I ought not to injure You, but, what is then to be done? --Where have you put my
Louisa?
--But, no Matter, let her not appear, let me not see her, I could not answer the Consequence. --I would be just if I could,
Clinton
--O Love, O Honour, how you do distract me! --You refused my Treasures and Jewels,
Clinton,
but then you have rent from me a Gem more estimable than my Dukedom --Help Saints, help Angels, help me to wrestle with myself! --Honour, Virtue, Gratitude, O, compel me to be just! --Tear, tear me away, while there's Strength to depart! --Adieu,
Clinton,
you are recompensed; should we happen to meet again, I may assail you without Reproach. And so saying, he rose suddenly and rushed out of the House.
I then hastened to seek my Love, but had scarce entered the Garden, when I saw
James
on his Knees before her, endeavouring to oppose her Way to the House. But she cried, away, Villain, let me pass, they are murdering my Lord, they are murdering my Husband, I will go and perish with him: Then breaking away from him, she shot along like a Lapwing, till, seeing me advancing, she sprung upon my Bosom, crying, O my
Harry,
O my
Harry,
are you safe, are you safe? and fainted away in my Arms.
The rest of my Story, my Lord, is no way material or entertaining. The Serene of heart-felt Happiness has little of Adventure in it, and is only interesting to the Possessors.
Having settled my Affairs in
London,
and carrying my
Eden
along with me, I passed into
Holland
to settle and be quit of Matters there also. For the World that I wished was in my Holding, and all Things else appeared either nugatory or encumbering.
It was there that I met our
Meekly,
and taking a pleasant Tour through the Skirts of
Germany,
we entered
France,
and leaving
Paris
on the right Hand, we reached the Marquis's Country Seat, situate near twenty Leagues beyond the Metropolis.
What a Meeting, what an Interview! My
Louisa
sunk in Tears, for Half an Hour, on the Bosom of her Mother. And the Marquis would put me from him and pull me to him again, all panting with Transport and insatiate of his Caresses! It was too much of Joy, it was Pleasure to paining. The Domestics would no longer be estrained from their Share of the Felicity; they rushed in and, as though we had been
ew descended Divinities, they dropped on their Knees, they fell prostrate and clung about us, kissed our Feet, our Hands, our Garments, and broke forth into Cries, as though it had been the House of Mourning and Lamentation.
On retiring, they got my
Louisa
's
Gerard
to themselves; he now became a Man of mighty Importance among them. They crowded about him and, in a joint Voice, but a Distraction of Questions, enquired after our Travels, our Adventures, our good and evil Occurrences, and all that concerned us.
The Marchioness then coming, and casting her honoured Arms around me, and weeping upon me, cried aloud, O
Harry,
my Son, my Son, I delivered my Daughter to you, even as
Edna
committed her
Sarab,
of special Trust, to
Tobias,
and I see that you have entreated her very kindly, my Son, my Son!
As my
Louisa
now began to be apparently pregnant, I earnestly pressed my precious Mother and Brother to accompany us to
England,
the Place where Law was Regent, where there was no Apprehension of Inquisitions or Bastiles; and where the Peasant was guarded, as with a Bulwark of Adamant, against every Encroachment of arbitrary Power. They assented with Joy, and the Marquis, going to his Escritoir, brought forth Bills to the amount of ten Million of Livres, the Produce of some Concerns which he had disposed of for the Purpose. Here, my Brother, says he, if I am not able to be grateful, if I am not able to be generous, I will at least be just; here is the Patrimony to which my lovely Sister is entitled. But, I said to the Marquis, my
Louisa
can admit of no Accession of Value. Keep your Goods to yourself. Remember how
Esau
said to
Jacob,
I have enough, enough, my Brother, these Things can add nothing to the Abundance of my Blessings. But then, he cried, you must accept them, as a Token of our Loves, and so he constrained and impelled them upon me.
Soon after, we passed to
London,
where we continued some Months, and where my
Louisa
was delivered of my little
Eloisa,
who was said to be the beautiful Likeness of her Father.
We then retired to my Seat near
Stratford,
on the fatal
Avon,
the chief of the landed Possessions that Mr.
Golding
had bequeathed me; where we remained something upward of five Years, happy, I think, above All that ever were happy upon Earth. For my
Louisa
was perpetual Festivity to our Sight and to our Hearts; her Eyes beamed with living and sentimental Glory, her Attitudes were Grace, her Movements were Music, and her Smiles were Fascination. Still varying yet exhibiting the same Delight, like the
Northern
Aurora she shone in all Directions. And she sported as though she had gone to Heaven, from Time to Time, and borrowed all her Plays from the Kingdom of little Children.
But, she needed not to go to Heaven, since Heaven was ever in her and round about her, and that she could no more move from it than she could move from herself. She had been, from her earliest Years, the beloved Disciple of the celebrated Madam
Guyon;
and the World, with all its Concerns, its Riches and Respects, had fallen off from her, as the Cloak fell away from the burning Chariot of
Elijah.
She looked at nothing but her Lord in all Things, she loved nothing but him in any Thing. She was the sweetest Playfellow that ever lived for the Babe of the Manger of
Bethlehem;
and he was, in her Heart, a Pleasure passing Sense, as well as a Peace that passed Understanding. Even in conjugal Endearment, her Manner refined and chastened the Sense of Possession and her Pudicity awed me in the Midst of Transport.
Our Friends now prevailed upon us to accompany them, in our Turn, to
France;
together with our prattling
Eloisa,
who was become the darling and inseparable Companion of her Grandmother and her Uncle. We again took
London
in our Way. I there renewed, for a while, my old Acquaintance with my Fellows in Trade, and they persuaded me to join them in a Petition to his Majesty for the Restoration of some of the lapsed Rights of their Corporation, as your Lordship may remember.
From
Calais
we turned and, by long but pleasant Journeys, at length arrived at the Marquis's paternal Seat in
Languedoc,
that opened a delightful Prospect on the
Mediterranean.
And here we continued upward of five Years more, even as
Adam
continued in Paradise, compassed in by Bliss, from the rest of the World.
During this happy Period I often pressed my dear Marquis to marry, but he would take me to his Arms and say, O my
Harry,
show me but the most distant Resemblance of our
Louisa,
and I will marry and be blessed without Delay.
In the mean while, my Angel made me he joyful Father of a little Son, who was, also, said to be the happier Resemblance
of his happy Father. Then, though I had long disregarded the World and all its Concerns, as I saw a Family increasing upon me, and also considered the Poor as my appointed and special Creditors; I resolved once more to return and settle my long suspended Accounts.
As for the Marchioness, she protested that she could not think of parting with her little
Eloisa,
and that she should not be able to survive her Absence ten Days. So my
Louisa
and I, and my little
Richard,
who was named after you, my Lord, set out by Sea and, after a favourable Voyage, arrived in
England;
comforted however with the Promise that our Friends would join us as soon as possible in
Britain.
Within the ten subsequent Months, we received the joyful Tidings that our Brother was married to the Third Daughter of the Duke of
Alenson,
that they were all in the highest Triumph, and would speedily be with us in a joint Jubilate on the Banks of the
Avon.
Soon after, as my
Louisa
and I rode along the River, pleasing ourselves with the Prospect of a speedy Union with Persons so dear to us, and talking and laughing away at the Cares of the Covetous and the Ambition of the High-minded; a Fowler inadvertently fired a Shot behind us; and my Horse, bounding aloft, plunged with me into the Current, from whence however I was taken, and unwillingly reserved to Years of inexpressible Misery, of a Misery that admitted not of a Drop of Consolation.
Mean while my Love had fallen, with a Shriek, from her Horse and lay senseless on the Sod. Some of my People flew back, and bringing a Carriage conveyed us gently home, where my
Louisa
was undressed and put into a Bed, from whence she never rose. Her Fright had given such a Shock to her Blood and Spirits as threw her into a violent Fever.
On the second Day, while I sat with the Physicians by her Side,
James
put in his Head and beckoned me forth. Ah, my dearest Master, says he, I pray God to give you the Strength and Patience of
Job;
you have great Need of them, for your Calamities, like his, come All in a Heap upon you. Here is a Messenger dispatched from
France
with very heavy Tidings, that my sweet young Lady, your darling
Eloisa,
was cast away, in a Sloop, upon a Party of Pleasure, and that the good old Marchioness did not outlive her five Days. Then lifting my Eyes to Heaven, Strip, strip me, my God, I cried, to the Skin, to the Bone, leave, leave but my
Louisa,
and I will bless thy Dispensations!
On the next Day, my little
Dickey
was taken ill of a severe Cold that he caught, through want of due Attention during the Sickness of his Mother. As he was of a florid Complexion, his Disorder fell suddenly in an Inflammation, on his Lungs, and in less than twenty-four Hours, he went to join his little Brother and Sisters in their Eternity. Did I not feel these Losses? Yes, yes, my Friends; they wrung, they rent my Vitals. Yet I still lifted my Heart in an eager Prayer, and repeatedly cried, Take, take All, even the last Mite, leave, leave me but my
Louisa,
and I will bless thee, O my Creator!
Alas, what could this avail! Can an Insect arrest the Motion whereby the round Universe continues its Course? On the fifth Day I perceived that the Eyes of my
Louisa,
the Lamps of my Life, began to lose their Lustre. The Breath that was the Balm of all my Cares and Concerns grew difficult and short. The Roses of my Summer died away on her Cheek. All agonizing, I felt and participated her Changes, and she expired, while I dropped and lay senseless beside her.
I knew not what our People did with her or me afterwards. For three Weeks I lay in a Kind of dosing but uneasy Stupor; neither do I recollect, during that Period, when, or whether I received any Kind of Sustenance.
At length I awoke to the Poignancy and Bitterness of my Situation. I did not awake to Life, but rather to the blackest Gloom of the Regions of Death. And yet it was from this Depth and enfolding of Death alone, that my Soul could find, or would accept an Alleviation of its Anguish.
O Earth, I cried, where is thy Centre, how deeply am I sunk beneath it! How are the Worms exalted over me! How much higher are the noxious Reptiles that crawl upon Earth! I will not accuse thee, thou great Disposer, I have had my Day, the sweetest that ever was allotted to Man; but O, thy past Blessings serve only to enhance my present Miseries, and to render me the most accursed of all thy Creatures.
I then rose, and threw myself along the Floor; and my faithful and valiant Companions immediately gathered to me. But, finding that I would not be removed, they cast themselves around me.
All Light was shut out, save the Glimmering of a Taper, and for seven Nights and seven Days we dwelt in Silence, except the solemn Interruptions of smothered Sobs and Wailings.
At length my Spirit reproved me. What Property, said I to myself, have these People in my Sufferings, or why should I burden those who love me with my Afflictions? I then constrained myself and went and took out a Drawer. Here, my Friends, I said, here is something that may help hereafter to dry up your Tears. Divide these Thousands among ye; neither these Counters nor your Services are now of further Use. Fare ye well, fare ye well, my worthy and beloved Brothers! God will give you a more gracious Master, but  but  such another Mistress ye never  never will find! I then took Each of them to my Arms, and kissed them, in turns, and the House was instantly filled with heart-tearing Lamentations.
I now expected and wished to be left wholly alone, but
James
and two Domestics remained against my Will. I then endeavoured to seem easy, I even struggled to appear cheerful, that I might communicate the less of Grief to the voluntary Sharers in my Misery. O World, World, I said to myself, thou once pleasant World, we have now bid a long an eternal Adieu to Each Other! From thee I am cut asunder, thou art annihilated to me, and we mutually reject every Kind of future Commerce.
Ah, how much deeper was my Death than that of those in the Tomb,
where the Wicked cease from troubling, and where the Weary are at Rest.
While I was dead to every Relish of Light and of Life, I was wholly alive to all the Gloom and Horrors of the Grave. The Rays of the Sun became an Offence to my Soul, the Verdure of the Fields, the whole Bloom of Nature were blasted and blasting to my Sight; and I wished to sink yet deeper, and to own a lower Bottom to myself of Darkness and Distress.
I no longer regarded what the World thought of me, or what it did to me, and I left my Hairs and my Nails, even as those of
Nebuchadnezar,
to grow like Eagle's Feathers and Birds Claws.
My Friend
James,
in the mean Time, took a Place for me in this Town, in order to remove me from Scenes that could only serve to perpetuate or aggravate my Misery, by reminding me of the Blessedness that I had once enjoyed.
He was now become my Controller. I was patient and passive to any Thing, to every Thing, and so he conducted me hither, I neither knew nor cared how.
In all this Time, though I panted after a State of Insensibility, even as a Traveller, in the burning desert, thirsts after a cool and slaking Stream. I never attempted to lay a violating Hand on the Work of my Creator. I did not even wish an Alleviation of my Misery, since my God had appointed that I should be so very miserable.
At length, my Spirit rose from its Blackness to a Kind of calm Twilight. I called for a Bible and, since this World was incapable of a Drop of Consolation, I wished to know if the next had Any in Store.
As I read, the Whole of the Letter, and of the Facts contained therein, appeared as so many Seals and Veils that removed from before my Eyes, and discovered Depths under Depths, and Heavens above Heavens to my amazed Apprehension. I had no Vision, no Revelation of these Matters; but the Conviction was impressed as strongly on my Soul, as though an Angel or God himself had revealed them to me.
How this came to pass I know not;
Homer
gives to his Heroes a Sight into Futurity at the Time that their Spirits are breaking away from the Shackles of Flesh and Blood. And it is not unlikely that the Eye of the Soul when wholly turned from all carnal and earthly Objects, can penetrate with the greater Scope and Clarity into Concerns that are merely celestial and divine.
I have now told ye the Whole of my dreary History, my Friends, till I met with our
Harry,
and the rest our
Harry
can tell.
But
Harry
was in no Manner of Vein, at present, for entertaining or receiving Entertainment from any One. His Eyes were swelled with weeping, his Spirits totally depressed, and getting up, as with the Burden of fourscore Years on his Shoulders, he retired slowly and silently to his Apartment.
Here, Mr.
Meekly
took the Opportunity of our Hero's Absence, to apprise the Company of what had passed respecting the fair
Aggy Jessamin.
And why, my dear
Meekly,
said the Earl, why would you baulk my Boy? I would rather than fifty thousand broad Pieces get any Offspring of my
Harry
into my Arms, however little it might be, legitimate or illegitimate. He is a glorious Fellow, he cannot be debased by marrying a Kitchen Wench, although his Alliance would ennoble a Princess. What's your Opinion, Brother? Indeed, said Mr.
Clinton,
if the Girl is virtuous, as her Countenance promises, I have no Objection.
Mr.
Meekly
instantly went, with these indulgent Tidings to
Harry,
but he shook his Head, and said, No no, my Friend, I will not abuse their Goodness. Beside, since I heard the Story of my Uncle's
Louisa,
my Passion is not quite so violent. I have formed a perfect Idea of the Bride I would wish; and, if I get not some One answering to the Image in my Heart, I will go unmarried to my Tomb. Yet, as I still ardently love the sweet Girl, I would not for the World risk the Temptation of a Meeting with her; and I am willing to pay roundly for her Removal. Be pleased then, my dear Friend, to settle this Matter with her Father, the stipulated Sum shall be ready, on Demand, to any Amount that you please, if they may serve to promote her Happiness.
On the next Day, Mr.
Meekly
introduced to
Harry
a tall and comely young Man in a peasant Dress, but of an Air and Deportment much superior to his Appearance. My Lord, said
Meekly
as he entered, you must quit all further Thoughts of the lovely Miss
Jessamin.
I have here brought a prior Claimant to whom, I am confident, the Probity, the Generosity of your Heart will give Place.
Harry
rose to receive him, when the Stranger, looking earnestly and amazedly at him, cried out, Ah no, we must All give Place here, I find. Does she know him, has
Aggy
seen him? I will then go and bury myself where my Heart may break in Despair of ever reclaiming her Affections.
No fear, Sir, said
Harry,
reaching his Hand, give me but to know that you have entitled yourself to her Regards, and my own Heart shall break in a thousand Pieces, rather than oppose or disturb the Peace of two gentle Lovers.
I will give you our Story, my Lord, in a very few Words. Mr.
Jessamin
and my Father
Jessop
served an Apprenticeship to the same Merchant, and, when that was expired, they joined in Trade to the
Levant.
But, as my Father was of the more adventurous Temper, they soon after broke Partnership. My Father traded to
Turkey
and the Isles of the
Archipelago;
and Mr.
Jessamin
confined himself to the
Italian
Coast.
In one of his Voyages to
Genoa,
he there married and begot the charming
Aggy,
and, returning to
London
after a Number of Years, he fitted out a Ship of considerable Force in order to convoy his Wife and Daughter, with all his Treasures to
England.
On their Way home they were taken by a
French
Privateer. Their Ship and rich Cargo were sent to
Toulon.
And Mrs. and Miss
Jessamin,
with some other Prisoners, were taken on board the Enemy's Vessel, that proceeded on her Cruise for further Captures.
I happened, at the Time, to be on my Return homeward, in a Ship called, WELCOME ENEMIES; she had the Appearance of a Merchant, but was actually better fitted for War than Trade.
The same Privateer came up with us, and bearing on us, with Confidence, commanded us to strike; but we answered them with an unexpected Broadside and, coming to close Quarters, we nearly cleared their Deck by the Discharge of our small Arms. Soon after, we grappled and boarded; when, hastening down to the Cabbin, I there for the first Time beheld my
Aggy,
in a fainting Fit, with her lovely Head reclined on the Lap of her Mother.
As I kneeled to give Assistance toward her Recovery, she first opened the Morning of her Eyes upon me, then turning them to her Mother, cried, Ah, Madam, what new Misfortune has been added to our Misery? I hope we have not fallen into the Hands of the Infidels. No, Miss, I said, you are free, you are free, and you are freed by Hands that offer themselves of their own Accord to your Shackles.
When we came to Port, I divided the Freight of our Prize among the brave Fellows who had seconded me so gallantly. And, having sold the Vessel for three and twenty hundred Pounds, I compelled Mrs.
Jessamin
to accept of it, as some small Compensation for the Losses that her Family had sustained.
As soon as I had paid my Duty to my Father, and that the Warmth of his first Caresses was over. Sir, said I, I have melancholy News to tell you. I fear your old Friend and Partner, Mr.
Jessamin,
is undone, as to Trade; great Part of his Fortune has been seized by the
French,
and that may prove a heavy Loss to myself also. He has but one Daughter, and might I prevail upon her to accept of my Hand, I should thereby become entitled to all her Father's Possessions. But, Sir, I cried, casting myself passionately at his Feet, if the Happiness of your Son is of any Weight with you, You will still assent to our Union, and thereby make me the most blessed of all human Beings!
Everard,
said my Father, sedately, you know I love you, and I am willing to divide that Love between your Fancy and your Fortune. If
Jessamin
lays down twenty thousand Pounds, in Hand, toward portioning your four Sisters, I will consent to your Union. And that's what I would not do, with any other Wench, under double that Sum.
As I knew my Father's Disposition to be as obstinate as it was affectionate, I rose and retreated without Reply. I instantly went to Mr.
Jessamin
's, I found my Charmer alone. I threw myself at her Knees. I solicited, I urged her to an immediate Marriage. When, blushing like the Morning, when it arises as ashamed of the Brightness that it brings, Sir, said she, we owe you all Things, I never can refuse you any Thing that Virtue will allow me to grant. Ah, how cold is that, I cried; I will not accept You as a Debt, my
Aggy,
if your Heart is not a free-will Offering, then let mine burst in sunder, they can have no Commerce together. Indeed, says she, giving her Hand, I never had an Inclination for any Other, and I have in the World but the one Objection to you. What is that, what is that ?    It is, she cried, with filling Eyes, that I fear to hurt You by a Match so very much disproportioned to your Merits.
Her Parents entered and found me still at her Feet. I rose in much Confusion and, taking a Seat, I candidly told them what had passed between my Father and me; and urged the same Petition to them that I had to their Daughter; when Mr.
Jessamin,
recollecting himself, gave me an Answer deserving of everlasting Memorial.
Mr.
Jessop,
says he, had I a Province to bestow along with my Child, you should have it as freely as I would give, of my Water-Cistern, to a thirsty Traveller. But here it happens that the inestimable Obligations, which you have heaped upon my Family, are quite averse to the Promotion of your present Desires.
In the first Place, as a Man of Probity, if I wish, one Day, to merit the Happiness of your Alliance, I cannot consent to be a Party in any clandestine Matter. Again, shall a Heart, full, and bursting with Gratitude, be a Partaker in bringing either Damage or Disgrace, on the only One whom I account my Benefactor and Patron? Lastly, shall a Father, who estimates the Honour of his Child, as a Pearl above the World's Purchase; shall he subject her tender, perhaps her melting Gratitude, to the Temptation of yielding further than she ought? or even to the Temptation of binding her virtuous Affections beyond the Power of a Retreat? This would be too severe a Tribute even for All that you have done for us. Do not exact it, my Son. My Heart wrings under the Necessity of rejecting your Suit. You cannot be pained as I am by this Refusal. But it is inevitable. You and my Daughter must meet no more till these Clouds are overpassed and that a new Light, of happier Influence, begins to dawn upon us.
I answered not. I wept where I sat for Half an Hour, I was not unaccompanied, and I then withdrew.
But, my Lord, I begin to grow tedious in Spite of my Intentions. I returned to my Father and requested him, in order, as I said, to get rid of my present Passion, that he would dispatch me abroad upon another Voyage.
I had given him a very lucrative Account of my last, and that made him the less inquisitive respecting the Prize we had taken.
He assented with Joy, as he feared that my Love might yet contend, and prevail in the Combat against Duty. And he took upon himself the Care of equipping out my Ship in a more gallant Plight than ever.
The Day before I went on board, I stepped to Mr.
Jessamin
's. My
Aggy
did not appear, and I found her Parents employed in preparing for a disconsolate Retreat to the Country. I told them I came to take my Leave, and asked if they would send any Venture by me. The very worthy Man then went to his Desk and, taking out the Bills of the Sale of the Privateer, here, my
Everard,
says he, I have nothing to adventure with you save your own free Gift. The Remainder of the Wreck of my Fortune is little enough to supply us with very frugal Accommodations, in our desired Exclusion from the World and its Ways. And here is a little Note of the Place of our Retreat, if ever, my Child, if ever  if ever we shall happen to meet on this Side of Eternity! O, I cried, kissing the Bills, if I do not bring you a good Account of these Ventures, never, indeed, shall we meet, till parting shall be no more!
We then set about taking Leave, and having several Times rushed alternately into the Arms of Each other, we again sat down and wept, till no Tears were left; when, rending myself away from them, and nearly blind to the Way that I went, I departed.
Within a Year and a Half I returned, and, in a Storm, put in at
Plymouth.
But notwithstanding the Intrepidity, and great Affection of my Companions; though I had made Death and Success as Matters equally indifferent, and on one of which I was determined; yet, our high Hopes and Enterprizings had failed us on several Occasions, and I am come back with little more than ten thousand Pounds for Mr.
Jessamin,
over the Produce of the Voyage which my Father may exact from me.
Wherefore, with post Horses, and a beating Heart, I have crossed the Country in Disguise, impatient, yet fearful, to know, how the Heart of the nobly inexorable
Jessamin,
may be affected toward me, and this Morning, as I skulked about the House, this Gentleman met me and, having questioned me, brought me directly to your Lordship.
Here
Harry
covered his Eyes with his Hand, and musing for a Time, at length said, I fear, my Friends, it may be difficult to bring this Matter about with Propriety. I would not willingly affront Mr.
Jessop
here, by a Gift of the Sum that is deficient to his Happiness. Neither, indeed, would it be duly delicate in Mr.
Jessop
to offer, to his Father-in-law, a Penny beyond what his Venture, so well supported by Mr.
Jessop
's Bravery, had acquired. You therefore, my dear Mr.
Meekly,
shall be the Conduit of the Expedient that I propose on the Occasion. I question if the War was proclaimed when
Jessamin
's Ship was made Prize; but, be that Matter as it may, I trust I have Interest sufficient to procure a Restoration the first Treaty of Peace. Do you therefore, my Friend, get me an Order from
Jessamin
for Â£.10000, on the first of his Effects in
France,
(with legal Interest however) and then take this Key and deliver to our Friends the very utmost of the Sum required by the Father of the darling Fellow who is now before me.
Meekly
then sprung up, advanced in Years as he was, and catching and clinging about
Harry,
O my Hero, my
Scipio,
he cried, you are the Champion whom Heaven delighteth to empower to subdue itself by Violence! Go on, till the Wreath of Triumph shall be bound to your Head in all its prepared Glories!
Mean while, young
Jessop,
lay prostrate, in the Oppression and Agony of Gratitude, at the Feet of his younger Patron. But
Harry
gently and affectionatly disengaging himself from them, withdrew to his Closet, saying to his own Heart; now
Aggy
adieu, adieu
Aggy,
for ever!
For three succeeding
Sundays,
our Hero heard the Bands of Marriage published between
Everard Jessop
and
Agnes Jessamin,
all which he bore with the Firmness of a Stoic, or rather with the Resignation of a Christian who keeps a Look forward to a more pearly Hope.
Perhaps, some may be curious to know how
Aggy
stood affected in regard to our young Lord. Let it suffice to be told that she made the worthiest of Wives to the very worthy
Everard,
notwithstanding that he had the Imprudence to tell her of
Harry
's Regard for her, as also of the Obligations by which he had bound them.
Aggy,
therefore, could not justly refuse
Harry
a Share in her Friendship, and there is something extremely tender in the Friendship of a generous Female.
Be that as it may, in about three Weeks after her Marriage, as she walked, with two fair Visitants, in a pleasant Field behind the Town, she saw our Hero coming toward her, attended by two Servants, and galantly mounted on a proud young Steed, whom he had undertaken to dress, and was now gracefully riding to the Manage.
She felt a sudden Alarm she knew not why, and, as
Harry
approached, she turned away that he might not recognize her. But, as soon as he had passed, she gave one Look after him, and feeling herself discomposed by a little hysterical Fit, she sat down on the Grass between her Companions, and wept till she was restored to her Strength and Spirits.
In a few Days after, she set out for
London,
where she became the daily Idol of her Father-in-law, and saw our
Harry
no more.
On an Evening, after Coffee, as the Earl stood fondly fooling with his
Harry,
as one Child with Another, he turned to Mr.
Clinton
and said, How came it to pass, my Brother, that
Jesus
suffered near four thousand Years to elapse, before he became incarnate for the Salvation of the World, although it was by him alone that the World could be saved?
We may as well demand of God, said Mr.
Clinton,
why he suffered near four Days of Creation to lapse, before he compacted yon glorious Body of far beaming Light. For, this Matter was barely a Type, and the Sun himself but a Shadow of the CHRIST that was to come. But, did the World want Light, before Light became incorporated in its illustrious Circumscription? No, my Lord. JESUS, who was from Eternity the Illumination of the dark Immensity of Nature;
Jesus
who, alone, is the living Light of Spirit, Soul, and Sentiment; the perpetual Fountain of the Streams of Beauty and Truth; he said, LET THERE BE LIGHT! and instantly, through the Darkness of a ruined World, the
Internity
of his ever living Light kindled up an
Externity
of corporeal Irradiation, that has its Effluence from him, and cannot beam but by him.
Now, as a Day is as a thousand Years, and a thousand Years as a Day, in the Sight of God; you see that the fourth Day of Creation, wherein the Light of this outward World was compacted into the glorious Body of the Sun, precisely answers to the four thousandth Year, wherein
Jesus,
the Light of Eternity was to become embodied and incarnate in Christ the SUN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS.
But, as the World wanted not Light, before the Sun opened his first Morning in the East, neither did it want the Means of Salvation before the blessed Doctrine of MESSIAH was promulged upon Earth!
All Sorts of Sectarians, All Persons of selfish and little Minds would make a Monopoly of the SAVIOUR, they would shut him up into a Conventicle, and say to their God,
thus far shalt thou go, and no further.
But he is not so to be confined. The Spirit of our
Jesus
bloweth wide and where he listeth. And he is at once both the Purifier and Redeemer, as well of all Nations, as also of all Nature.
Accordingly, we see that the
Turks,
who are wholly unblessed by true Religion or Liberty; who live the Slaves of Slaves; without a Form of civil Government; temporally subjected to the Will of a Tyrant; and spiritually to the Worship of a sensual Impostor; yet want not the Feelings of our JESUS in their Heart.
Even the wild
Indians,
who never listened to the Toll of a Bell, nor ever were called into any Court of civil Judicature; These want not their Attachments, their Friendships, their Family-feelings, nor the sweet Compunctions and Emotions of the human Heart, by
Jesus,
forming to DIVINE.
The Truth is that People live, incomparably more, by Impulse and Inclination than by Reason and Precept. Reason and Precept are not always within our Beck; to have their due Influence, they require frequent Inculcation and frequent Recollection; but Impulse and Inclination are more than at Hand, they are within us, and, from the Citadel, rule the Outworks of Man at Pleasure.
When the Apostle, speaking of CHRIST, affirms that
there is no other
NAME
under Heaven whereby a Man may be saved.
And again, when he affirms that Those,
who have not received the Law, are a Law unto themselves.
He intends one and the same Thing. He intends that CHRIST, from the Fall of Man, is a PRINCIPLE OF REDEMPTION in the Bosoms of All Living. That he is not an
outward
but an
inward Redeemer,
working out our Salvation
by the Change of our depraved Nature.
That in and from Him, alone, arise all the Sentiments and Sensibilities, that warm the Heart with Love, that expand it with Honour, that wring it with Compunction, or that heave it with the Story of distant Distress. And that He alone can be qualified to be Judge at the last Day, Who, from the first Day to the last, was internally a Co-Operator and Witness of all that ever passed within the Bosoms of all Men.
Hence it is that, although the Christian Countries have received the
two Tables
of the Laws of Christ, his
external
as well as
internal Revelation,
(Each witnessing to the Other that the God of our
Gospel
is the God of our
Nature
) the Nations however, who are Strangers to his Name, yet acknowledge his Influence, they do not indeed
hear,
but they
feel
the Precepts of that LIGHT
which lighteth every Man who cometh into the World.
My dearest Brother, said the Earl, my Conceptions are quite clear with respect to the Omnipresence of Christ's Divinity. But, as his Body is circumscribed by external Features and Lineaments, I can form no Notion of its being in several Places at once. How then will it be, I pray you, at and after the last Day? Will he be present to, and approachable only by a select Number of his Saints; or will he go certain Journeys and Circuits through the Heavens, blessing All, in Rotation, with his beatific Presence?
Is not the Body of yonder Sun circumscribed, my Lord? Most certainly --It is now, said Mr.
Clinton,
at a Distance of many Millions of Leagues from You, and yet You see it as evidently and feel its Influence as powerfully as if it were within your Reach. Nay, it is more than within your Reach, it is within your Existence. It supplies Comfort and Life to your animal Body and Life; and you could not survive an Hour without its Influence and Operations.
Now, this is no other than the apt Type and prefiguring Promise of what Christ will be to his New-begotten in the Resurrection, when
Corruption shall be swallowed up of Glory and Mortal of Immortality.
The same blessed Body which, for the Redemption of commiserated Sinners, went through the shameful and bloody Process of Scourges, Thorns, Spittings, and Buffettings; which hung six agonizing Hours on the Cross; which descended into the Grave, and thence opened the Way through Death into Life, and through Time into Eternity; Even this Body shall then shine forth in ineffable Beauty and Beatitude, in effentially communicative Grace and Glory; through the Heighth and through the Depth, through the Length and through the Breadth, beaming wide beyond the Universe, from Infinity to Infinity.
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, will then become co-embodied in this divine Body; they will be the Repletion of it, they will operate all Things by it. To bring the Creator nearer to his Creatures, the invisible Godhead will then become visible, the Infinite circumscribed, the Unapproachable accessable, and the Incomprehensible comprehended, within the Humanity of our CHRIST.
Then will his Cross be exalted, for an Ensign to the circling, bending, and worshipping Universe. His Wreath of Thorns will kindle all Nature with the Dartings and Castings forth of its Corruscations. And his Reed of Mockery will become the Sceptre of unlimited Domination.
From his five Wounds shall be poured forth incessant Floods of Glory and wide diffusing Blessedness upon all his Redeemed. Adoring Worlds, in self-Abjection, shall strive to sink beneath the Abjection that became their Salvation. These ever apparent Ensigns of so dearly purchased Benefits shall inevitably attract the Wills of all Creatures, they shall cause all Hearts and Affections to rush and cleave to him, as Steel Dust rushes to Adamant, and as Spokes stick in the Nave whereon they are centred. There shall be no Lapse thence-forward, forward, no Falling away, for ever. But God in his Christ, and Christ in his Redeemed, shall be a Will and a Wisdom, and an Action and a Mightiness, and a Goodness and a Graciousness, and a Glory rising on Glory, and a Blessing rising on Blessedness, through an ever beginning to a never ending ETERNITY.
O Brother, Brother, Brother! exclaimed the Earl, I am enraptured, I am entranced! --I see it all, I feel it all. I am already, with all my Corruptions, with all my Transgressions, desirous of being crushed to Nothing under the Foot of my Redeemer. But he comforts instead of crushing me. O that I were this Night, this very Moment to be dissolved and to be with my Christ!
That Night, the Earl was quite happy and pleasant, and affectionate even beyond his Custom. He said and did every Thing that could be endearing to his
Harry
and to his Friends. He caressed them at parting for Bed. He smilingly shook Hands with all the Domestics that approached him; and, in the Morning, was found dead, without any Notice or Warning to the Servants who attended and lay in the Room.
A sudden and grievous Alarm was instantly given through the Family, and quickly reached the Town, and spread through the adjacent Country.
Harry
fell upon his Father's Face, and wept upon him, and kissed him, and wept aloud, and kissed him again, crying, my Father, O my Father!
And they laid his Remains in a plated Coffin, under Escutcheons and a sable Canopy of Velvet. And the House and the Court was circled with Mourners from all Parts. And they mourned for him fifty and nine Days. And, on the sixtieth Day, he was deposited in his Family Tomb; but Mr.
Clinton
would not permit
Harry
to attend the Funeral of his Father.
Our Hero was now the Master of Millions, approaching to the Prime of Youth, glowing with Health, Action and Vigour, of Beauty incomparable, beloved of All who knew him, and the Attraction and Admiration of every Eye where he passed. Yet all these Advantages, with all his higher Accomplishments, became as Matters of no Value, they sunk and sickened to his Sense, while he felt a Void in his Bosom, eager after he knew not what, sighing he knew not why; keen and craving in his Desires, yet pining and languid in the Want of Possession.
What is the Matter, my Love? said Mr.
Clinton,
my dear Brother died in a good old Age. Such Things should be expected, we know that they must be, and we ought not to grieve as Persons who are without Hope.
True, Sir, said
Harry,
and yet it is a very melancholy Thing for a poor Man to reflect how very rich he was a very little while ago. I lately had a dear Brother, a dear Mother, and the dearest of Fathers, but where are they All now? I look round the World and see nothing but yourself therein. And --should you too --should you too --Here
Harry
could no more. His Uncle also broke into Tears, at the Thoughts of parting with his Darling
Harry,
though it were to join his
Louisa.
My
Harry,
says he at last, we have yet two precious Treasures left upon Earth, if we did but know where to find them; it is your Cousin the Countess of
Maitland,
and the Brother of my
Louisa
the Marquis
D'Aubigny.
Let us go in Search of them, my Son. Next to my
Louisa
they are the loveliest of all Living. They abound in all human and divine Affections, and will caress us with kindred and corresponding Hearts.
Soon after, they set out for
France
and, by a roundabout Tour of short but pleasant Journeys, arrived at
Paris,
where Mr.
Clinton
ordered his large Retinue to his ancient Inn, and, taking only two Footmen, he and
Harry
went in their Post-Chaise to the Marquis's Palace.
On the ringing of the Bell and the opening of the Gate, a single Domestic came forth. Mr.
Clinton
perceived that all was dark in the Hall, and this instantly gave an Alarm to his ever ready Feelings.
He alighted, however, and, stepping with his
Harry,
up the Flight of Marble, Where is your Master, says he, where is my Brother the Marquis? Heaven bless us, cried the Fellow, are you my Master's Brother? I have heard a Deal of and about your Lordship, though I never was so happy as to see your Face before. Ho! he continued, and rung another Bell, come All of You! attend the Brother of your Lord, attend the present Master and Lord of your Household!
Immediately the Palace was in Commotion, the Parlour and Hall were lighted up, and All seemed to have acquired a Set of Wings to their Motions.
Mr.
Clinton
looked with Eagerness at Each of the Domestics, endeavouring to recollect the Features of some old Acquaintance, but all the Faces were strange to him. Pray tell me, my Friends, says he, where is your Master, where and how are he and his Lady, are they still in good Health, has he had any Children by her?
Please your Honour, said an elderly Man, my Master's first Lady died of Childbirth, and her Infant perished with her. But, he is since married to One of the loveliest Women in the World. He is gone, a Year since, on an Embassy into
Africa;
his Lady would not be left behind, we lately heard from them, they are Both in Health; and we expect that less than a Month will bring them safe to us; indeed, the Sum of our Prayers is for their happy and speedy Return.
What, said Mr.
Clinton,
are there none of my old Friends, not one of our ancient Domestics to the fore? --Please your Lordship,
Jacome,
the white headed Steward, is still left, but, though in good Health, he is very little more than half alive. --Pray go and tell him that an old Friend of his is here, and would be very glad to see him, but don't do Things suddenly, and be very tender and careful in bringing him to me.
Old
Jacome
was wheeled in, wrinkled, pale, and paralytic, and all enfeebled as he sat reclining in an easy Chair, he seemed to recover Life and new Spirits, as they brought him forward. Bring me to him, bring me to him; my Eyes are wondrous dim; bring me closer, that I may know if it is my very Master indeed. Bring me but once to know that it is his sweet pardoning Face and then let me die with all my Sins upon me, I care not.
Mr.
Clinton
then took him very lovingly by the Hand, my good Friend
Jacome,
says he, we are both growing old I find, I rejoice however to see you once more upon Earth. O, cried the old Man, a well known and a sweet tuned Voice is that Voice; it is you then, it is you yourself, my Master! Alas, for all your Losses since last we parted! I have got a salt Rheum in my Eyes of late, and I never thought of you but it began to come down.
Here
Jacome,
sobbing aloud, provoked the joint Tears of his attending fellow Servants; though they had never been Partakers in the foregone Calamities, farther than by the Ear, whence they were now recollected and carried home to their Hearts.
My Lord, says
Jacome
at last, I am not the only One that remains of your old Servants. Your
Gerard
too, who (Blessings on his Hands) once tied me Neck and Heels,
Gerard
too is forthcoming and near at Hand. Your Honour's wonderful Bounty made a Gentlemen of him at once, and he is now in a high Way with a Wife and three Children. A hundred and a hundred Times have we washed your Remembrance with our Tears. And indeed I think your Honour ought not to send for him, lest he should suddenly die or run distracted at your Sight.
In the mean time, One of the Lacqueys had officiously gone and informed
Gerard
of the Arrival of his Patron. He came panting, and rushed forward, as it were to cast himself at the Feet of his Lord. But stopping suddenly, and drawing back some Steps, he nailed his Eyes, as it were, on the Face of Mr.
Clinton,
and spreading his Hands, cried:
You live then, my Lord, you still live, my dearest Master! you survive all your Deaths and Sufferings, and the Weight of ten Mountains has not been able to crush you! --O, the Times, the Times, my Master, never more to return! --will there be such Times in Heaven, think you? --Will there be such Angels there as we once lived with upon Earth?
Here he clapped his Hands together, and set up such a Shout of bitter Lamentation, as was enough to split the Heart of every Hearer, and, in a Manner, to split the Graves of the Persons whom he deplored.
As soon as Mr.
Clinton
and his two old Friends had parted, for the Night: Tell me, my dear Sir, said
Harry,
are there different Kinds of Grief, or is it, merely, that Grief affects us in different Manners?
When I wept for my dear Father, my Mother and Brother, my Affliction was anguishing and altogether bitter, without any Species of alleviating Sensation to compensate my Misery. But, it was far otherwise with me to Night; when I grieved in the Grief of your old and faithful Domestics, I felt my Heart breaking, but I was pleased that it should break; I felt that it was my Happiness so to grieve; and I could wish a Return of the same sweet Sensations.
The Reason is this, my Love: When you lamented your Parents, you lamented Yourself in your private and personal Losses. Your Affliction was just, it was natural, it was laudable. But still it was confined, it participated but little of the Emotion that is excited by the Affliction of Others, and the Anguish was the keener by being nearly limited to your own Bosom and your own Concerns.
But, in the Griefs of my old and loving Servants, this Night; you became wholly expanded; you went beyond, you went out of yourself. You felt, without Reflection, how delightful it is to go forth, with your God, in his social, generous, noble, and divine Sensibilities. And you delightfully felt, my
Harry,
that such a House of Mourning is more joyous to your Soul, than all the Festivals that Flesh and Sense can open before you.
And now, my Child, I will finally, and once for all, lay open the very horrible and detestable Nature of SELF in your Soul.
SELF appears to us, as the Whole of our Existence, as the Sum total of All, in which we are interested or concerned. It is as a NARCISSUS, self-delighted, self-enamoured. It desires, it craves, and claims, as its Right, the Loves, Attachments, and Respects of all Mankind. But, does it acquire them, my
Harry?
O, never, never. SELF never was beloved, never will be beloved, never was honourable or respectable in the Eye of any Creature. And the Characters of the
Patriot,
the
Hero,
the
Friend,
and the
Lover,
are only so far amiable, so far revereable, as they are supposed to have gone forth from the Confines of SELF.
As Mr.
Clinton
proposed to wait the Return of the Marquis, he employed the mean Season in Endeavours to amuse his Darling, and to dispel the Cloud of Melancholy that continued to hang over him.
For this Purpose, he went with him to
Versailles,
and to the many other elegant Environs of
Paris.
He also showed him the
Thuilleries
and other public Walks, where our Hero became oppressed by his involuntary Attraction of all Eyes upon him.
One Night, happening to go to the Play, without the Company of his Guardian, as he came forth, with the Crowd, a Carriage was opened for him which he took to be his own, and in he stepped, and away he was taken.
In the mean Time, Mr.
Clinton
waited Supper for him, and began to grow uneasy when the Clock struck Twelve. At last his Carriage and Servants returned with Tidings that they staid for him, above an Hour, at the Theatre, after the Play was over, and had ever since been in Search of him, to no Purpose.
Though Mr.
Clinton
was, by Nature, of an intrepid Spirit, and was still more assured by his Reliance on Providence, he yet found himself agitated in a very alarming Manner. He therefore retired to his Closet, and there, on his Knees, fervently commended his
Harry
to the Protection of his God.
At length the Clock struck Three. Soon after, the Bell was heard from the Hall, and
Harry,
entering, with a Page in a rich Livery, flew like Lightening up Stairs, and cast himself into the Bosom of his Patron.
My Father, my Father! he cried, I have been in sad Pannics for you. I knew the Love that you bore to your good for nothing
Harry.
But, indeed I could not help it. I could not get to you till this Instant. I have been a Prisoner, Sir, and here is my dear Deliverer.
As soon as they were something composed, and All seated;
Harry
proceeded to satisfy the Impatience of his Uncle.
As I came out of the Theatre, ruminating on a Passage in one of
Racine
's Tragedies, I found a Chariot in the Spot where I had left my own, and stepping heedlesly into it, I was soon set down, and hastening through the great Hall, flew up Stairs to salute you. But, think how I was surprised, when I suddenly found myself in the most sumptuous Chamber, perhaps, in the Universe. It was wainscotted with Mirrors of the most perfect Polish, whose Plates were artfully buttoned and buckled together by Diamonds and other Gems of a most dazzling Lustre.
All astonished, I recoiled, and was going to withdraw, when I was met by a Lady who followed and accosted me. Have you Commands, Sir, says she, for any One in this House ?    A thousand Pardons, Madam, I perceive my Error! I really thought I was set down at my own Lodgings.    No great Offence, Sir, but now that I look at you again, I think you ought to pay the Forfeit of your Intrusion, by giving me one Hour of your Company, at least.    You must excuse me, Madam, my Guardian would be under the most terrifying Alarms for me.    A Fig for Guardians, she cried, You are now my Prisoner, and nothing less than my Friend
Lewis,
with his Army at his Back, shall be able to take you out of my Hands.
So saying, she rung a Bell, and, immediately a folding Door of pannelled looking-Glass flew open, and showed us to another Apartment, where a Supper, composed of all the Elegancies of the Season, was served up, as by Magic, and lay fuming on the Table.
She then took me by the Hand and, having graciously seated me, placed herself opposite. A Number of Servants then vanished, on the Instant, leaving a dumb Waiter of Silver behind them.
Sir, said she, we are not to have any further Company. You alone were expected, you alone are desired, All Others are forbidden. In short, I have seen you often at the public Walks and Theatres. You did more than strike my Fancy, you laid hold on my Heart. I enquired every Thing about you. I know your Rank, Title and Fortune. I made use of this Night's Stratagem to decoy you to me, and, though there are few Women, in
Europe,
of equal Opulence or Dignity, I think I cannot much demean myself by an Alliance with a sweet Fellow whom I so ardently love. But come, our Supper cools.
I gazed at her with Admiration. She was indeed the most finished Beauty I ever beheld. And I was inwardly flattered, and in a Manner attached to her by her Partiality in my Favour.
After Supper, and some futile and insignificant Chat, she drew her Chair nearer to me. What say you, my Lord, says she, fondly, am I to live, or to perish?
Ah Madam, I cried, Love is, as a little Bird, if you cage it, it will beat itself to Pieces against its Prison. Not that I regard your late Threats of Confinement; my own Arm is at all Times sufficient to deliver me from your Thraldom; but, in Truth, I am partly become a willing Prisoner to You; and Time may, possibly, reconcile me to your different Customs.
What Customs, I pray you? Why, Madam, the Ladies, in my Country, use no Paint, except the Rouge of Nature's Blush and the Paleness of Chastity. Love also, in
England,
is a Kind of Warfare between the Sexes, just such as once happened between the
Parthians
and old
Rome;
our Ladies conquer, by flying, and our Men are vanquished while they pursue.
Persons, Sir, of a certain Rank, said she, are dispensed with from conforming to little Matters of Decorum. However, if you will endeavour to adopt the Manners of my Country, I will do my best, on my Part, to conform to those of Yours.
So saying, she looked languishingly at me, and drew her Chair quite close; when, by an involuntary Motion, I put mine further back. Don't be alarmed, my Lord, says she, Women of my Condition know always where to stop. Right, Madam, said I, but possibly you might not be quite so successful in teaching me where to be stopped.
Cold constitutioned Boy! she cried (indignantly rising and colouring) your Bed lies yonder, you may go to it, if you like, and ruminate till Morning on the Danger of slighting and insulting a Princess. So saying, she swept haughtily out of the Room, and locked me in.
During an Hour after she had withdrawn, while I walked about, considering what I had to apprehend from the Threats of this extraordinary Woman, I heard a great Bustling in and about the Falace; but, within another Hour All was quiet and still again.
I then conceived Thoughts of attempting my Escape. But again, I held it beneath me to be caught in the Manner; and so I resolved to wait till Morning, and then to force my Passage through her Guards in open Day.
In the mean Time, I imagined that a Pannel in the Wainscot stirred. And, soon after, it was removed, and my young Friend, here, entered my Chamber on Tiptoe. He beckoned me to Silence and, taking me by the Hand, he led me through the Way by which he came.
We then descended a narrow Pair of back Stairs, and, groping along a dark Entry, he cautiously unbolted a Door that opened into a Garden; and hurrying with me, across, he unlocked another Door that opened to the Street, and out we got, rejoicing!
Soon after, we met a Party of the Guards, who were patroling the Streets, and, putting a few Pieces into their Hand, I requested their safe Convoy, and they conducted us Home.
My Lords, said
PerrÃ¨,
(for that was the Page's Name) it would be extremely dangerous for Ye to remain another Day, or even till Morning in
Paris.
The Princess is the most intimate Friend of Madame
Maintenon,
and through her can do what she pleases with the King. During my Residence with her, she grew tired of two handsome Lovers, in Succession; but they told no Tales; and no One can yet tell what became of them.
Mr.
Clinton
was quite of
PerrÃ¨
's Opinion. He instantly sent for his People. All was Hurry, Pack and Dispatch, and, toward Dawning, they set out on a Road that led to the Cantons. But, changing their Course again, for several successive Mornings, they arrived at
Calais
by a long Tour of near five Weeks travel.
Mr.
Clinton
set up at his old Inn, and after Dinner, the Host entered to pay his Compliments. Have you any News, Landlord? Nothing at present, my Lord, all is quiet again. But here has been a fearful Bustle about three Weeks ago. The King's Army came down, in Pursuit of young
Englishman
who ran away with a Lady of Quality from
Paris.
For my Share, continued he, looking earnestly at
Harry,
I fear that You, pretty
English
Lads, will hardly leave us a lovely Wench in the Nation.
Harry
looked quite secure, being wholly innocent of any present Design on the Sex; but poor little
PerrÃ¨
turned as pale as the Table Cloth.
I remember, continued our talkative Host, that just such another Affair happened, when I was a Boy and Servant in this House. Here came a young
Englishman,
just such another sweet Fellow as this before me; and he brought with him an Angel of a Creature, the like of whom my Eyes never did, nor ever shall open upon till they close in Death. After him came one of our great Dukes, with a Party of the King's Army, and terrible Things were expected. But, they made it up in a Manner I know not how. And my Lord
Anglois
carried off his Prize in Triumph! Mr.
Clinton
stooped his Head, and dropped a silent Tear, but held no further Converse with our Landlord on the Subject.
That Evening, a Gale sprung up and, going on Board, they were safe anchored, before Morning, in the Bay of
Dover.
They then mutually embraced; and
Harry,
catching his beloved Deliverer to his Bosom, we are now upon
English
Ground, says he; welcome to my Arms, my dear
PerrÃ¨,
no longer my Page or Servant, but my Friend and my Brother! You can't conceive what Pain your Officiousness has hitherto cost me, but, there must be no more of this; You shall hereafter be served and attended as I am, nay, I myself will gladly serve You to the utmost of my Power and the Extent of my Fortune.
Ah, my Lord, cried the lovely
PerrÃ¨,
gently falling at the Feet of his Master, if you deprive me of the Pleasure of serving You, you deprive me of all the Pleasure that the World can afford me. If you knew the Delight I find in being always about you, in watching your Thoughts and Motions, in looking into your fine Eyes and there reading your Desires, before they rise to Expression, You could not find in your Heart to deprive me of such a Blessing. Well then, said
Harry,
raising him fondly in his Arms, our future Contest shall be, which of us shall serve the Other with most Affection and Sedulity.
After Dinner, the Evening being calm and shiny,
Harry
took his
PerrÃ¨
with him along the Shore that stretches under the stupendous Cliffs of
Dover.
They had not walked far when, getting out of the Sight of People within the Winding of a Creek, a Man advanced toward them, and, taking out a Pistol, called to
Harry,
and ordered him to throw down his Purse. Our Hero did not regard his Purse, but, thinking it an Indignity to be robbed by one Man, he put his Hand to his Sword. Hereupon, the Villain cocked and levelled his Pistol, and the faithful
PerrÃ¨,
observing that he was going to fire, instantly jumped in between her Master and Danger and received the Ball into her own lovely Bosom.
Harry
saw his Darling drop, and, flying all enraged at the Robber, he ran him thrice through the Body and pinned him to the Ground. Then, flying as swiftly back, he threw himself by the Side of his dying
PerrÃ¨,
and gently raising her languishing Head, placed it fondly on his Bosom.
You are wounded, my Friend, dangerously wounded I fear, says
Harry.
Yes, my Lord, I am wounded just as I could wish; and I would not exchange my preent blessed Death for the longest and happiest Life that the World could bestow.    But, it is Time to undeceive, and eveal a Secret to you, which nothing but death should ever have extorted from me   I am not what I seem, my most beloved Master !    I am a foolish and fond Girl who, at the first Glance, conceived a Passion for you.    My Name is
Maria de Lausanne;
  I am Niece to that bad Woman whom you justly rejected.    But, what did I propose by this Disguise? First your Deliverance, my Lord, and that I effected.    But, did I further aspire to the Honour of your Hand? Far from it, far from it  I felt my own Unworthiness, I did not think you could be mated by any Thing less than an Angel  But then to see you, to hear you, to serve, to touch, to be near you, to fix my Eyes on you unheeded, and, if possible, to win your Attention by the little Offices of my Fondness, this was my Happiness, the Whole of the Heaven that I proposed upon Earth  I have had it, I have enjoyed it;  and I ought to die content  But, alas, to part from you, there is the Pang of Pangs.    O, if this Day merits any Thing, by the Offer of my own Life for the Preservation of my Beloved.    Then cause my chaste Clay to be kindly deposited in the Tomb of your Ancestors  that  when Time shall come  my Dust may be neigh boured  to your precious Dust  and there sleep in Peace  beside you  till we spring  together  from Corruption  into Glory and Immortality!
During these short Sentences and difficult Respirations,
Harry
could answer nothing  He was suffocated by his Grief.    But, putting his speechless Lips to the fading Lips of his
Maria,
he drew her latest Breath into his own affectionate Bosom, and Angels instantly caught her Spirit into the Regions of Purity, of Love, and of Faith unfailing!
Harry,
then, plucking up Strength from Oppression, and Courage from Despair, pressed his Lips to the pale, and unfeeling Lips of his true Lover, and cried, Yes, my
Maria,
our Dust shall be joined, and I feel that our Spirits too shall shortly be wedded !    Then, raising her in his Arms, and pressing her to his Bosom, he bore her to the Town, while he poured upon her, all the Way, the two Fountains of his Affection.
When he got to the Inn, and came to is Uncle; Here, Sir, said he, I present you with a very precious little Burden, a Burden that lies much heavier on my Heart than
did in my Arms. He then related to Mr.
Clinton
the Whole of what had passed; then, heavily sighing, and shedding a Tear, Mr.
Clinton
cried, Ah, my
Harry,
I would to Heaven that your
Maria
had lived, She exceeds your
Aggy Jessamin
all to nothing.
Harry
ordered a Carriage, on Purpose, for himself and his Beloved. She was deposited in a Coffin hurried up for the Occasion; and, notwithstanding all the Remonstrances and Entreaties of his Parent,
Harry
proved a Rebel, for the first Time, and would not be divided from his
Maria,
till they reached
London.
There, our Hero ordered a Coffin of unallayed and beaten Silver to be prepared for her Reception. And, though near five Days had passed since the Departure of her Spirit, her chaste Flesh remained as pure and untainted, as that of a Lamb newly slain.
While they were putting her into her solemn Repository. Ah, Sir, said
Harry,
I pretend not to compare with you, your Losses, I own, have been greater than mine. You are a Man, like your divine Master, wholly made up of Sorrows and acquainted with killing Griefs. But still you must allow that, for my little Time I have had a competent Share. It matter not. I am reconciled to them. I begin to be pleased with them. And indeed Joy is become my utter Aversion, while I think on this loved Creature, who willingly bled and died for my Sake.
As
Harry
thought it his Duty, so he thought it would be his Delight to weep and lament his
Maria
for ever. But Passions seldom are permanent, and Time, though it may not wholly efface, daily wears away an insensible Portion of the deepest Impressions.
Harry
caused the Coffin of his Deliverer to be exalted on a Cabinet in his Bedchamber, that it might be always in his Sight. But the Familiarity of affecting Objects daily lessens their Force; and
Harry,
Week after Week, began to contemplate the Repository of the loved Remains of his
Maria,
with abating Affliction.
In the mean Time, Mr.
Clinton
received a Letter, by the
French
Mail, in answer to One which he had left for his Brother-inlaw, at
Paris.
And, this Letter informed him, under the Marquis's Hand, that he had returned from his Embassy to the Court of
Morocco,
and that he and his Lady would be shortly in
England.
And, at the Bottom he found written, in a different Character,
Will it be any Satisfaction to see them accompanied by your once loved
  FANNY GOODALL.
We have found them, my
Harry,
he cried, we have found them, our long and far sought Friends; the two Treasures which our God had graciously laid in Store, for the Comfort of us poor People who lost All beside. But, don't let us do them the Disgrace, my Son, of meeting and receiving them with Tears and Dirges. Let me then prevail upon you to permit your faithful
PerrÃ¨
to be conducted by some of our People, with an honourable Train of Undertakers to
Enfield,
and there to be treasured up in your Family Vault, where I shall speedily join her, and whereto even my
Harry
must finally adjourn.    
Harry
wiped his Eye and said, be it as you please, my Father!
Within the following Fortnight, as our Hero stood with a single Attendant in
Cheapside
overagainst the
Devil Tavern,
where the Club, called
Legion Club,
was kept; he was accosted by a glittering Appearance, who took him by the Hand and said, How are you, Master
Fenton?
  Well, Sir, I thank you; Lord
Bottom
I presume !    The same, Sir  And pray how are the worthy Lord and Lady
Mansfield,
as also your lovely Sister, the Lady
Louisa?
  Passable, Sir; but what makes you in black? I hope Mr.
Fenton
is still in the Land of the Living.    He is, my Lord. But Black is a cheap Kind of Wear, it is a Matter of Frugality to kill a Cousin once in a Twelve-month.    Well, be that as it may, I insist on your stepping over the Way to take one Glass with me  Your Lordship must excuse me, I am going to the Wharf, to enquire concerning some Friends whom I expect from
France.
O, I protest, Master
Fenton,
you shall not disappoint me, I insist on renewing our old Acquaintance.
Harry
could hardly have found it in his Heart to refuse the Request of an avowed Enemy, much less could he think of rejecting an Invitation that was made under a warm Appearance of Friendship.
When Lord
Bottom
had seated his old Enemy (as he still supposed him to be) in the Midst of fourteen or fifteen Bloods and Bucks,
Harry
would gladly have retreated; but rejected the Thought, lest they should think that he was intimidated.
Gentlemen, cried Lord
Bottom,
give me Leave to introduce a Phenomenon to you, my Friend yonder is a CHRISTIAN! A Christian, cried One; a Christian, cried Another? Ay, said Lord
Bottom,
a Christian of the right Cast, he literally conforms to the Example of his Master. If you smite him on the one Cheek, he will turn the Other to you, and you cannot delight him more than by Kickings, Spittings, and Spurnings.
Pray Sir, said One of the Company, are you actually a Christian? I hope so, Sir, said
Harry.
And may I spit in your Face, Sir, said Another, without Fear of Chastisement? You may, Sir, said
Harry.
I told ye so, Gentlemen, I told ye so, exclaimed Lord
Bottom.
I have myself put the Christianity of my Friend there to the Proof. I have made him the But and the Jest of all Companies. I have dubbed him with the Title of FOOL. I have pasted it on his Back in Capitals, in the Midst of the Levee, and in the Presence of his Majesty. And yet, he never showed the least Instance of his being offended. For Example now, and so saying, he spit directly in
Harry
's Face.
Another then, and then Another, and so on, in a numerous Succession spit full at our Hero. While he, without the smallest apparent Emotion, barely took out his Handkerchief and wiped the Moisture from his Face.
At rength a lusty-looking young Man arore Damn the Rascal, said he, I will not demean myself by spitting at him, I will piss upon the Rascal; which he accordingly prepared to do. But
Harry,
perceiving his Approach, turned mildly and said, I do not recollect, Sir, that this was any of the Indignities to which my Lord and Master submitted. Then, without rising from his Seat, he gave him a Knuckle in the Temple which laid him asleep on the Floor.
'Sbl  d, cried One of the Company, I fear,
Jemmy Bottom,
you have brought us into the wrong Box. You have certainly mistaken your Man.
He has indeed, said
Harry,
calmly. He calls me
Fenton,
but my Name is not
Fenton,
my Name is
Henry
Earl of
Moreland;
and you shall, every Man, lie these twelve Months in
Newgate
for this Day's Breach of Privilege against a Peer of the Realm. Here is my Star, Gentlemen; I can put my Riband on at Pleasure.
The whole
Legion
were instantly struck with mute Terror and Astonishment. They lifted up their Hands, or sunk to their Knees in petitioning Postures. But
Harry
said, with a firm and alarming Accent, I desire your Reformation, Gentlemen, and I will endeavour to complete it. I have hitherto, only shown you the first Part of Christianity in the Example of meek and lowly Sufferance. The second Part remains. It is to teach You, abject Wretches, to suffer in your Turn. However, I am not of a very vindictive Nature, and if All of you will be upon Honour to give me your Hands, I will pardon what is past and dismiss you in Succession.
Lord
Bottom
and his Friend
Rakely
were the first who advanced, lowly bowing, to claim the proposed Terms of Peace, when
Harry,
seizing
Bottom
's Hand with a strong and agile Gripe, crushed the Bones and the Grisles as it were into one Mass, and
Bottom,
giving a huge Scream, dropped roaring on the Floor.
Rakely
then would have recoiled, but
Harry,
catching at him, sent him to join his Brother in Iniquity and Affliction on the Boards.
Well, Gentlemen, said
Harry,
what keeps you in your Seats? Why do ye not come and give me the Honour of your Hands as was agreed? If you do not do it directly, I will take Each of you, very quietly, by the Nose, and kick you through the Crowd of Attendants down Stairs.
My Lord, cried One of the Company, I will not give you my Hand, neither shall any Man living take me by the Nose. So saying he sprung up, and catching at his Sword, which lay with Others on a Table, he hastily drew it and stood on his Defence.
O fye, Sir, said
Harry,
without moving from his Seat, you don't put yourself in a Posture. Any Man, who was not a very good natured Man, might take you at an Advantage, and run you under the Open that you give to your right Flank. But Sir, said
Harry,
rising, I will only caution you by a little Puncture in the Sword Arm; I don't mean you much Hurt. And, so saying, he passed his Sword through the Flesh of his Adversary's right Arm, and, taking him to the Door, he wished him a good Evening, and turned him down Stairs to seek for a Surgeon.
He then returned to the Company, and, taking Each of the intimidated Wretches (in Succession) by the Nose; he led them out, and footed them down Stairs, through the Midst of their own Servants, the Waiters,
&c.
crying, a Kicking to all the infamous and scoundrel Sons of
Belial
who dare to spit at Christianity!
Then, calling two of the Drawers, Here is something for yourselves, my Lads, says he; and here I leave you yonder Swords and these two very fine Gentlemen in pawn for your Reckoning. So saying, he walked quite composedly away, through the Midst of two long Ranges of bowing Admirers, who lined the Stairs and the Entry, and thus
Harry
dissolved the
Legion Club.
The next Morning early before Mr.
Clinton
was up, while
Harry
sat sipping a Dish of Tea, dressed in a dark grey Frock, his Hair slightly bound up after the Footman Fashion, and his long Staff of quarter cleft Oak, without Knot or Flaw, standing polished beside him, Mr.
Frank
introduced a young Man, whom he recommended to his Lordship's Service.
Harry
measured him, with a Glance, from Top to Toe, and was instantly struck by the visible Action, Power, and Energy of his Proportions.
Sit down,
Frank,
says
Harry,
while your Friend and I treat. What is your Name, my Lad?
John Sutton,
so please you. And what Wages do you desire? From one Pound to one hundred yearly. --A great Difference indeed,
John.
--Why, please your Honour, if I mayn't happen to like you I shall march without asking a single Penny. But if I should have the Misfortune to love you, as your Countenance threatens, I shall certainly deserve the whole of my Demand, by All that I shall do, and dare to do in your Service.
Can you wrestle,
Jack?
--Whenever your Honour shall get a Man, through the Shires of
England,
who is able to fling me, I will serve you the Remainder of my Life for nothing. Can you cudgel,
Jack?
--I was born a Fencer, so please your Lordship, my Father was a famous Prizefighter, and my Mother could beat my Father himself at the Quarter Staff. --Did you ever read the History of
Robin Hood, Jack?
--I did, Sir. --Then you may remember that honest
Robin
never took an Abettor into Pay, save such a One as was able to cope with himself.
Frank
here shall sit and see fair Play.
Harry
then rose, and taking two Sticks, gave one of them to his Opponent, then, putting a Brass Helmet upon
Jack
's Head, there is something, said he, to save you from Hurt, and now, come at the Thickness of my Skull as fast as you can!
To it they strait fell, with equal Confidence of Ability. But
Harry,
perceiving that
Jack
intended to spare him, cried, Come,
Jack,
the best, the very best that you can do, or not a Penny, a single Penny of Wages, I assure you.
Jack
then exerted his utmost, and put nearly the fullest Powers of our Hero to Proof, till
Harry,
dazzling his Eyes by a sudden Flourish, gave him a smart Stroke on his brazen Head-piece, and drove him stunned and staggering several Paces backward, till he rested against the Wall that stood behind him.
Ha, said
Jack,
recovering, and casting his Cap aside, that indeed was a Blow which neither my Father nor Mother ever taught me to fence.
Well, my Friend, said our Hero, as soon as you are rested, we must have a little Turn or so at Wrestling. No, no, cried
Jack,
I would not advise your Lordship to that, there lies all my Excellence, the very best of my Manhood. Well,
Jack,
said
Harry,
a Fling on this Floor can't hurt us a Whit more than a Fall on the Downs.
They closed, they grappled, they griped under and over, at Hip and at Shoulder, alternately lifting and lifted, till they were nearly overbreathed. Then, parting for a Moment, they rushed forward and seized each other by the Breast, when
Harry,
giving his Adversary a sudden Twist on one Side and then an agile Jerk and Foot on the other, cast him sidelong on the Carpet.
Poor
Jack
rose, astonished and in utter Abasement, ashamed even to lift his Eyes toward the Eyes of his Friend
Frank;
when
Harry
took him by the Hand and forceably seated him at the Tea-table. Come,
Jack,
says he, don't be discouraged. You have put me harder to it than did the great
Roger
of
Ross-town,
though I think I am much abler than I was at that Day. Here
Frank,
order us something more substantial for Breakfast, while your Friend and I endeavour to accommodate our Differences.
When Breakfast was over,
Harry
looked fixedly at his late Opponent and said, I will give you,
Jack,
a little Matter above the Extent of your Demand; I will give you one Hundred a Year for your Cudgelling, another Hundred for your Wrestling; and as you say you can love, I will lay another Hundred in store for you, till that Promise is put to Proof; and here is twenty Guineas as Earnest of our Agreement.
Jack
then threw himself prostrate before the Feet of his new Master. Keep your Bounties, keep your Bounties for my Executors, he cried, for I feel that, when your Service demands my Life, I shall not survive another Minute.
Harry
then rose and, putting another Quarter-staff into the Hand of his new Servant, here is a Horse for you,
Jack,
says he, in case you should tire; for we have a long Walk from Pal-Mall here, to the Custom-house Wharf and back again.
As they drew near the Quay,
Harry
observed a great Crowd, all in Motion, and shouting as in the Midst of an Affray. Immediately he hastened up, and, making way through the Mob, perceived that they were kicking, and wounding, and dragging above twenty unhappy Foreigners along the Pavement. While a Lady, who stood with her Women on the Stairs, cried aloud, five hundred, a thousand, five thousand Pounds to Any who will save my poor People!
Come,
Jack,
says our Hero, let us try to deliver these abused Strangers from the Cruelty of our savage Countrymen.
On the Word,
Harry
found himself well seconded by
Jack,
and, in less than a Minute, above thirty of the Assailants lay sprawling on the Area; while the wounded and bruised Foreigners arose as well as they could, or crawled and got in a Group to the Feet of their Mistress.
The Mob, thereupon, rallied, and, gathering to the Number of some Hundreds, advanced in a formidable Body against our two Champions. But, they had better have kept aloof. For
Harry,
running upon them, overturned the First he met with one End of his Staff, and laid a Second at his Feet with the Revolution of the other End, insomuch that at every Motion, as it were, he dispatched two Men.
Neither was
Jack
unactive. The Crowd began to recoil, when, rushing into the Midst, they overthrew such as opposed them, and, whirling their Staffs about their Heads, they quickly opened and cleared large Room for themselves. No One dared to abide within the Wind of their Weapons; and the Mob, flying several Ways, left our Hero quiet Master of the Field of Battle.
Mean time, the Lady stood fixed in utter Astonishment at the Feats which she had seen, when
Harry,
gracefully approaching, I think myself happy, Madam, says he, in having done some small Service to a Lady of your fair and noble Appearance; of what Country may I presume? Of
England,
Sir, says she, and I am ready to discharge my Promise of five thousand Pounds for the gallant Rescue which you brought to me and my People.
No, Madam, said our Hero, I will not debase the little Merit of my Humanity by the Acceptance of a Bribe. But I shall not be easy till I see You and your Attendants out of the Reach of these
London
-Barbarians. They may return with different Weapons, and a larger Reinforcement. He then called to some Porters and, throwing them a Parcel of Silver, ordered them to bring all the Coaches they could muster. And go You,
Jack,
says he, to the Shipping, enquire after the Friends that I told you of, and then follow me to the White Cross Tavern in
Cheapside.
The Coaches came, and
Harry
assisted his Porters in carrying, helping, and gently stowing the Maimed and the Wounded into half a Dozen of them. He then handed in the Lady, and next, coming to a Blackamoor Boy, who had a Coronet of Diamonds inserted in his Cap, he offered to lift him in. But the Youth, bending one Knee to the Dust, and seizing on
Harry
's Hand, eagerly and repeatedly kissed it, crying out in
French,
heavenly, heavenly Creature! and then, breaking into Tears, sprung into the Coach, and sat down by the Lady.
Our Hero then bestowed the four female Attendants, with such Luggage as was brought on Shore, into the four remaining Coaches. Then, grasping his Quarterstaff, and ordering the Porters to attend, he guarded and escorted All safe to the White Cross.
The first Thing he then did was to order private Apartments for the Lady and her Attendants. He next dispatched the Waiters for all the Surgeons in the Neighbourhood. He then locked the Room where he saw the Luggage safe lodged; ordered a sumptuous Dinner to be prepared as soon as possible; and, lastly, discharged the Coaches and Porters, who poured their parting Blessings upon his Head; and all this he did with wonderful Dispatch, for
Harry
was now in the wide Element of his Beneficence, as a Whale in the Ocean.
Four Surgeons then came, and our Hero, putting five Guineas apiece into their Hands, desired them to examine and dress their Patients; and staid till he heard the delighting Tidings that None of them were incurable. He then sent up to the Lady to desire Permission to attend her. She rose and met him as he entered; Child of Heaven, said she, from which of the Orders of Angels have you descended? I have heard as well as seen what you have wonderfully done for us. Madam, said
Harry,
endeavouring to turn the Discourse, I would not advise you to remove your People for some Time: I have ordered Beds and Apartments for them in this House; where those, who are tolerably well, may assist the Doctors to attend their sick Fellows till All shall be restored. In the mean time I have sent to my Father's for his Coach and Chariot to convey You, and this young Gentleman, and your Women, to our House, where you can want for no Servants, since my Father, and I, and All will be truely and tenderly your Servants. We are your Property, Sir, said the Lady, dispose of us as you please.
But, pray Madam, said our Hero, what could provoke the Rabble to insult You and Yours, in the Manner that they did this Day? I protest, Sir, said she, I cannot conceive, except it be that, as some One says in LEAR,
our Countenances liked them not.
In a little Time after, Dinner was served up, and
Harry,
happening to turn his Head, perceived the black Youth by stealth kissing the Hat, and pressing the Gloves to his Bosom that he had laid on a Table.
Whatever the Darkness or Deformity of any Aspect or Person may happen to be, if the sentimental Beauty of Soul shall burst through the Cloud upon us, the Dark becomes Light, the Deformed quite comely, and we begin to affect what was lately our Aversion. Thus it was that
Harry
found himself suddenly and inevitably attached by the two recent Proofs that this outlandish Youth had given of his Affection.
Being all seated,
Harry
looked earnestly at the young Moor, and turning to the Lady said: I now perceive, Madam, how ridiculous all Sorts of Prejudices are, and find that Time and Observation may change our Opinions to the Reverse of what they were. I once had an Aversion to all Sorts of Blacks, but I avow that there is something so amiable in the Face of this Youth, and his Eyes cast such a Lustre over the Darkness of his Countenance as is enough, as
Shakespeare
has it, to make us in love with Night, and pay no more Worship to the gaudy Sun.
The Moor, hereat, smiled celestial Sweetness, and Joy beamed from his Eyes and throughout his dimpling Aspect.
But who can you be, my sweet Fellow, said the Lady, who are the Picture, the Image, almost the Thing itself that I was so sadly in love with five and thirty Years ago? Why, Madam, said our Hero, you could not have been born at that early Day. Ah you Flatterer, says she, I am turned of Forty. But, pray Madam, who was he that was so happy as to attract your infant Affections? --His Name was
Harry Clinton
--Why, Madam,
Harry Clinton
is my Name.   
Harry Clinton, Harry Clinton!
screamed out the Lady, and started up from her Chair; --Yes, Madam, I am Son to the Earl of
Moreland,
and I almost dare to hope that you were once the enchanting
Fanny Goodall.
  Yes, my lovely Kinsman, I am indeed your
Fanny Goodall.
Harry
then sprung forward, and seizing her Hand, kept it dwelling on his Lips. But, disengaging it, she opened her Arms and clasped him to her Bosom, and wept over him as a Mother would over a long-lost Son. While the young
Moor
ran and danced about the Room, like a mad Thing, clapping Hands, and springing, like an
Antelope,
almost to the Cieling.
When they were something composed, the
Moor
caught the Lady about the Neck and kissing her, cried, Joy, Joy, my dearest Madam, the greatest of all Joys! Then turning to our Hero, he took each of his Hands, in Turns, and pressed them to his Lips, while
Harry,
kissing his Forehead, cried, my Brother, my Brother!
When they were again set to Dinner,
Jack
entered. My Lord, says he, I have been all along the Quays and the Shipping, but can learn no Tidings of the Marquis
D'Aubigny,
nor of any
French
Family save that of the Dutchess
Bouillon,
who, this Morning, came up the River with a numerous Train.
Well, says
Harry,
our Happiness has been already quite sufficient to the Day. To morrow may crown our Wishes with full Success.
No, my Love, said the Lady, you cannot see the Marquis for some Time. The Truth is that you find, in me, your
Fanny Goodall,
the Marchioness
D'Aubigny,
and the Duchess
de Bouillon.
But these Matters shall be explaimed more clearly, when I am blessed with the Sight of your precious Uncle.
News was now brought that the Carriages were at the Door, when, taking a hasty Bit or two, they visited and left Orders for the Care of the Sick and Wounded, and then set out in a Hurry for
Pal Mall.
When they arrived, the Dutchess hastened in, enquiring for Mr.
Clinton,
and, when she came where he was, she cried out, as she advanced, and as he rose to receive her, your
Fanny,
your
Fanny Goodall,
my Cousin! and throwing herself into his Arms, dwelt there for a Minute. Then recoiling awhile, she looked fondly at him and cried, your Sister also, my Brother, your Sister
D'Aubigny!
the Wife of the Brother of your heavenly
Louisa!
then clasping him to her Arms, she broke into Tears; and again, quitting him, sat down to quiet her Emotions.
Mr.
Clinton,
having seated himself affectionately beside her, said: These are wondrous Things that you tell me, my precious Sister; by what Miracle have these Blessings been brought about?
I am too much agitated at present, says she, let me have a little Coffee, and the Matter shall be unravelled.
As they were settling to the Tea-table, give me Leave, Sir, said the Duchess, to introduce my little black Companion to your Notice. He is a sweet Fellow I assure you, notwithstanding his Complexion. He is Child to our royal Friend the Emperor of
Morocco,
who has entrusted him to our Guardianship for his Travel and Education. However he might have come by his sable Outside, his Father, the great
Abenamin,
is the least of the tawny of any Man I saw in
Africa,
and his Mother is one of the fairest and finest Women that ever opened a Pair of living Diamonds to the Light; but, she took Fright, while she was pregnant, at the sudden Sight of a
Blackamoor.
But, my Brother, I shall more particularly recommend him to your Regard, by telling you that he is an exceedingly pious Christian, though as playful as Lambs and as chuckling as Infancy.
She then turned and, taking the little
Abenamin
by the Hand, led him up and placed him before her Brother. When the Youth, suddenly dropping on his Knees, looked up to Mr.
Clinton,
with Eyes that spoke Love and reverential Awe, and besought his Blessing.
The old Gentleman found himself surprizingly affected and, lifting up his Hands, cried, God be gracious to you, my Child, and make your Soul as bright as your Countenance is sable! and may the Sun of Righteousness shine with Power upon you, and soon disperse or illumine every Shade that is about You. The Prince embraced his Legs, kissed his Knees, and arose.
Soon as the Coffee was removed, You may remember, my dearest Cousin, said the Duchess, in what a Hurry I last parted from you. Mr.
Fairface,
with whom the Bulk of my Fortune was deposited, went off with above a hundred thousand Pounds of my Substance, beside four times that Value entrusted to him by Others.
I traced him to
Paris,
and there he had the Impudence to give me an Interview, but at the same Time had the Impudence to bid me Defiance.
Immediately I commenced Suit, and sent dispatch to
London
for my Papers and Witnesses.
On the Opening of my Cause in Court, I was summoned by the Title of Countess of
Maitland,
otherwise
Frances Goodall.
On hearing the Name, a Gentleman who was near me started, and turning and coming up, Pray, Madam, says he, are you any way related to the honourable
Harry Clinton,
who once went by that Name in this City? I am Sir, said I, almost the nearest Relation that he has upon Earth. --He is, Madam, my dearest Friend and Brother. Pray speak to your Advocates to postpone your Suit for a few Days, till I am informed of the Nature and Merits of your Cause.
This was accordingly done. He desired to know where I lodged, and in less than an Hour his Chariot was at my Door.
Except yourself, my Cousin, the Marquis had the most lovely and winning Aspect and Person that ever I beheld. I soon convinced him of the Equity of my Demand and of the Villainy of my Trustee, and made him perfect Master of the whole Affair. But he still continued to visit, and to stay with me a considerable Part of every Day, under Colour of being better informed touching this and the other Particular, the remaining Time was spent in soliciting for me.
At length a Hearing came on; and, after a short Trial honest
Fairface
was cast in Principal and double Costs. He was instantly taken into Custody, and put under Confinement, till he discharged the whole Amount of the judgement in my Favour.
No sooner was one Suit over, wherein I was Plaintiff, but Another was commenced wherein I happened to prove but a very weak Defendant. The Marquis now became Solicitor for himself, but with such a sweet Timidity as seemed to doubt, and greatly dread the Success of his Cause.
I could not refuse my Time to him who had devoted the Whole of his Time and Assiduity to me. We spent whole Days together. But O, what Floods of Tears did that Time (at Times) cost both him and me, while he pathetically and feelingly related your History, from the Place where you broke off, to the Death of your
Louisa
and your precious Infants.
I believe, my Cousin, that, as Grief is a greater Softener, so it is a greater Cementer of Hearts than any other Passion. I gave the Marquis, in my Turn, my little Story, and dwelt on every tender Minuteness of my infant Passion for you. Ah, said he, what a pity that a Heart, so susceptible of all divine and humane Feelings, should sit as a lonely Turtle, upon the House-top, without a suitable Mate.
I took him for that Mate, my Cousin, and in a Husband I found the truest and tenderest of Lovers. I became pregnant, for the first Time of my Life, and was delivered of a sweet and promising little Fellow, whom we left at Nurse in our Country Seat, while I attended my Lord on his Embassy to
Morocco:
But, here I must stop, my Brother, I am under the positive Interdiction of an imperial Thing called a Husband, not to divulge a Word further till he sees you Face to Face. But I trust that he has blessed Tidings for you, my Brother, he says that he, otherwise, would not have dared to present himself before you, after his Loss of your
Eloisa.
Mr.
Clinton
smiled (careless) as at the Impossibility of any consoling Event upon Earth. Again, smiling archly, I protest, my Sister, said he, you appear to me to grow younger for your Years. I see no Manner of Alteration, save that you are something plumper, and not quite so slender as when we parted. O, says she, laughing, there may be a Reason in Nature for that.
I rejoice at Heart to hear it, said Mr.
Clinton;
but pray, when may we expect my Brother? --In about two Months; at present he is engaged with the King, who is extremely fond of him, and lately created him a Duke, on account of the Services which he rendered the State in
Africa.
We received your dear Letter, my dearest Brother, at
Paris,
but wondered who the sweet Fellow could be who was said to accompany you.
In the mean Time, our Hero and the young Prince were in close Combination.
Abenamin
stepped about, and about
Harry,
and toyed with him, and twisted the Curls of his careless Locks around his Fingers. Then turning and looking fondly up in his Face, Ah, how fair, says he, does this black Visage of mine show in those fine Eyes of yours! It is in Truth, said
Harry,
so fair in my Eyes, that I would not exchange it for fifteen of the fairest female Faces in
Britain.
The Prince then caught his Hand and pressed it to his Bosom. But what shall I call you, says he, you are a great Lord in this Country, and, in my own Country I am greater than a Lord. But I hate the Formality of Titles between Friends, and I will call you my
Harry,
provided you promise to call me your
Abenamin.
A Bargain, says
Harry,
let us seal it with a Kiss! No, no, says the Prince, we never kiss Lips in
Africa,
but I will kiss your Head, and your Hands, and your Feet too with Pleasure. But tell me,
Harry,
what makes you so mighty clever a Fellow, will you teach me to be a clever Fellow also? Ay, that I will, says
Harry,
and to beat myself too, provided you promise not to hit me over hard.
Abenamin
fell a laughing, and aimed a little Fist as though he meant to overturn him.
As soon as
Harry
's Grief, for his late
Maria,
would allow him to associate, he had been to seek his old Friend and Tutor Mr.
Clement,
but he found only a single Domestic at home, who told him that the old Gentleman had been some Time dead, and that the Family were lately gone to take Possession of a new Seat that they had purchased in the Country.
However, as
Harry
found himself quite happy in the present Society, he sought no further Acquaintance or Amusement in
London.
In less than three Weeks, the Retinue of the Prince and the Dutchess were well restored, and they All set out for
Enfield,
there to await the wished Arrival of the Duke.
They slept the first Night at
Oxford,
and toward the Noon of the third Day they set up at the Angel Inn in
Coventry.
It happened to be a Season of Festivity in the Town. Over against the front Windows, a Stage had been erected for a Mountebank and his Merry Andrew; and, as soon as they had dismounted, it became a Stage for Combatants. Two Quarterstaffs and a Pair of Basket-hilted Cudgels lay thereon; while an adjoining Pole was hung with a Variety of Prizes destined to the Conquerors.
Immediatley two Champions mounted, with two Seconds appointed to see fair Play. But One of the Combatants was quickly dismissed with a broken Head. Another then succeeded, and then Another, to the Amount of half a Score, but the first Hero still kept the Field of Battle. While
Harry
sat, with his Company, looking out of the Dining-Room Windows at the Diversion.
At length
Jack
came behind his Lord, and giving him a Touch on the Shoulder, whisperingly begged his Permission to claim the Stage.
Harry
assented.
Jack
was up in a Twinkling, and quickly dispatched the Victor, as he had served his Predecessors. A Number of Candidates then succeeded, but with no better Fortune; and the Prize was taking down to be delivered to our Friend
Jack;
when an elderly looking Man desired to be lifted on the Stage.
Come, says he to
Jack,
you seem to be a clever Fellow, let us quit this Boy's Play, and take up the Quarterstaff; when
Jack,
remembering a Piece of an old Ballad, repeated,
accurssed be he, Earl
Piercy
said, by whom it is denied.
They grasped their formidable Weapons, and Each threw himself into an expert Posture of Defence. Then began the Work to grow warm, and these Champions had twice traversed the whole Round of the Stage, before a Wound or Bruise was received on either Part.
At the third Bout, the old Stager made a Feint at his Adversary's left Leg, and, in attempting to defend it, the Sconce of our Friend
Jack
was covered with Blood, and he sprung off the Stage and instantly vanished.
Harry
then stepped backward and ordered his Servant to be called, and, laughing, cried, Ah my poor
Jack!
I knew what would be your Fate the Moment I saw the Face of your Opponent. You unfortunatley met with the famous
Oakum,
the old Prizer of
Islington;
many and many a Lesson have I got from him. But, you may happen to get some Satisfaction ere long. Run, and give yonder Fool a Crown, for the Loan of his patched Coat for a few Minutes.
Jack
flew on his Embassy, while
Harry
burned a Stick at a back Room Fire, with which he made to himself very formidable Eyebrows and Whiskers. Then, hurrying on the Fool's Coat, he stepped forth and desired to be lifted on the Stage.
Oakum
little expected a second Adversary, but, when he saw the Merry-Andrew, as he supposed, he had like to be suffocated by a sudden Fit of Laughter, while the Crowd tore the Elements to Fritters with their Clamour.
Harry
then put himself in an awkward and peasant-like Posture, while
Oakum,
advancing carelessly, made a slight but, as he thought, demolishing Stroke at him. But
Harry,
setting it aside with the one End of his Staff, gave
Oakum,
with the other End, as it were a chance Chuck under the Chin, and tossed him on the broad of his Back along the Stage.
The Shouts of the Populace were then redoubled. At length
Oakum,
arising, fixed his Eyes upon
Harry
with an inquisitive Astonishment, as desirous of knowing how this Business came about. While
Harry,
with a Grin of stupid Amazement, seemed equally to wonder at what he had done.
Again they set themselves in hostile Opposition.
Oakum
then aimed a disabling Stroke at
Harry's
right Shin; but
Harry,
quick as Thought, slipping his Leg backward, gave the Weapon Room to pass, and, at the same Time, bestowing a sudden Tip on the Crown of his old Master, he cut him along the Skull, and gave him once more to measure his Length upon the Boards.
The Crowd stood awhile silent, as scarce crediting what had passed before their Eyes, till
Oakum,
rising and staggering, and again fastening his Sight upon our Hero, cried aloud, either You must be the DEVIL or young HARRY FENTON.
Harry
then stepped up, and put his Mouth to the Ear of his Adversary.
Oakum,
says he, here are five Guineas to help toward the Cure of your broken Head. But remember that it is not honourable for the Masters of our Science to set themselves in Competition against the Ignorant.
Oakum
bowed and withdrew; crying, Heaven be praised that it is no Other than my own Scholar who foils me.
The Clamours of the Populace now became outrageous. The Prize of a silvered Coronet interwoven with Laurel, was plucked down in a hurry and placed on the Head of our Hero. All the Towns-people then put their Hands in their Pockets, and, mustering their Shillings and Sixpences, threw them in Showers on the Stage; while the Dutchess, Mr.
Clinton,
and the generous
Abenamin
also emptied their Pockets, to reward the Prowess of the Man who had vindicated the Quarrel of their favourite
Jack.
All this Profusion of Money was faithfully gathered up, by the two Seconds, and delivered in a Hat full of Silver to
Harry,
who, bestowing a Handful on Each, delivered the Remainder to his Man
Jack
who stood by the Stage.
The Crowd then ascended, and, laying violent Hands on our Hero, bore him triumphantly away. They then placed him in an Arm-Chair erected on long Poles, and, hoising his Carriage on their Shoulders, they carried him in the Midst of Peals of Shouts up the Street, while an appointed Herald went before them and cried, O the FOOL, the FOOL, the brave, the noble FOOL, who beats the Skill of the Wise, and the Acts of the Mighty to Pieces! At length,
Harry,
growing tired of this Parade, put his Hand on the Head of one of his Carriers, vaulted lightly over, instantly vanished from their Sight, and flew up Stairs to his Company.
His Friends now began to recognize their
Harry,
in the Coat of the Fool, and broke into repeated Fits of Laughter.
Abenamin
then turned to his beloved Friend and cried, what's become of my handsome
Harry?
why, he is turned to almost as ugly a Fellow as myself. Then, kissing his Forehead and stroaking his Cheeks, he said, O, It was the cleverest and darlingest FOOL that ever I knew in the livelong Days that I have passed upon Earth.
When the Populace perceived their favourite Fool seated in the Midst of Quality, they All gathered to the Inn, and commenced their Shouts anew. But
Harry,
calling for his Hat of Silver, as also for all the Change that could be mustered in the House, amounting to the Value of about thirty Guineas, he threw his Cash in Handfulls on every Side, till he was nearly exhausted, and that the Crowd cried out, Enough, enough, your Honour, too much, too much indeedâª O, that All would equally learn to set Bounds to their Avarice!
When Dinner was over, and that
Harry
was restored to his former Self, our Company, again, set out on their Journey, amidst the Blessings and Acclamations of the whole City, who had ranged themselves on, each Side, to behold and pay them Obeisance as they passed.
The next Day, as they stopped at a Village to repair the fractured Harness of an over mettled Horse;
Harry,
mean while, took a walk with his
Abenamin
along the Road. In their Way they came to a long and waste Cottage, where they heard the confused clattering of junior Voices.
Harry
stepped to the Door, and, looking in, perceived about forty or fifty Boys ranged on Benches of Turf, while a Man of a pale Aspect sat on a decayed Chair, instructing them in their Lessons.
Your Servant, Sir, says
Harry,
pray what Language do you teach? --I can teach
Latin
and
Greek
too, so please your Honour, but the People of this Country choose to confine themselves to the Language of old
England.
  If I am not too free, Sir, pray what is your Name ?    
Longfield,
so please your Honour.    
Longfield, Longfield?
I have surely heard that Name before. Pray, were you ever acquainted with a Man called
Hammel Clement? --Hammel Clement,
Sir? he was my dearest Friend, the Friend whom I injured, the Friend of my Heart! --Then, cries
Harry,
you are the Friend of my Heart too, my
Longfield,
and so saying, he embraced and pressed him to his Bosom.
The poor Man shrunk back, in half Wonder and half Terror at what this might mean, but the benevolent
Harry
soon quieted his Apprehensions. Your Friend
Clement,
says-he, is come to great Fortune, and, I dare answer for him, would be nearly distracted with Joy at your Sight, and would gladly divide his Substance with you; but, if you please, you shall be no Encumbrance upon his growing Family. You shall instantly come with me, and, as
Pharaoh
said to
Jacob,
regard not your Stuff, for the Good of all my Lands lies before You, my
Longfield.
And I rejoice more in acquiring such a Heart as Yours, than if I had acquired the Possession of a Province.
Harry
then called a few of the Neighbours in, and giving them some Guineas, to be changed and divided among the Children, in order to enable them to see a new Master, He and
Abenamin
took the threadbare
Longfield,
on each Side, under the Arm, and carried him away.
When they came to the Turn that led to the Mansion House,
Harry
perceived with much Pleasure, that the two School-Houses, which he had put in Hand before the Death of his Father, were now completed. They stood opposite to each other, with the Road between them. Their Fronts were of hewn Stone; and a small Cupola rose over Each, with Bells to summon the Children to Meals and to Lesson.
Here,
Longfield,
says our Hero, is to be your Province. You are to superintend these Schools, at a Salary of three hundred a Year. And I will soon send you, with proper Means, throughout the Country, to muster me a Hundred chosen Children of each Sex, for I yearn to be a Father,
Longfield,
and to gather my Family of Little Ones under my Eye and my Wing.
As soon as they alighted, Mr.
Clinton
and his
Harry
once more welcomed the Dutchess and her
Abenamin
to their Home and their Hearts, and the late House of Mourning became a House of Joy.
Above All,
Abenamin
inspired Mirth and Good humour throughout the Family; and Melancholy fled before him wherever he turned. He was daily inventive of new Matters of Entertainment. He danced
African
Dances, for them, with wonderful Action and Grace; and he sung
African
Songs that imitated and exceeded the wild and inarticulate Warblings of the Nightingale. So that he became the Darling and little Idol of the whole Household.
Harry
had sent for the Town Taylor, and got
Longfield
fitted with three or four Suits from his Father's Wardrobe. He then sent him on his Commission, in Company with Mr.
Trustly
the Agent, whom he ordered to show him the Country, to introduce him to the several Families of the Peasantry, and to furnish him with whatever Sums he should call for.
In the mean Time, our Hero and
Abenamin
became inseparable. He made the Prince a Present of his little dressed Jennet, and at Times rode out with him, and taught him the Manage. At other Times they would run and wrestle, and play a hundred Gambols through the Walks and the Gardens.
Did you ever see the Chase of the Antelope,
Harry?
  Not I truely.    You shan't be long so, says the Prince. Go, gather me all the House, Man, Woman, and Child before the Door here. You shall be the Huntsman, and I will be the Antelope, and if any of your People can catch me, in a Mile's Running, they shall have my Cap for a Kerchief.
Immediately the whole Posse was summoned, to the amount of about sixty Persons, Male and Female; and Mr.
Clinton
and the Dutchess, hearing what they were about, came laughing to the Door to see the Diversion.
Harry
then gave his royal Antelope about fifty Yards Law, then cried, away! and instantly all Heels and all Voices were loosed after him.
The Prince then turned, and bounded over an Aha, that was sunk on the right Side of the Avenue, then, clearing several other Obstacles, whereby he threw out the greatest Number of his Pursuers, he at length reached the Fields, and shot away like an Arrow.
Our Friend
Jack
headed about nine foreign and domestic Footmen, who still held the Chase, though at a Distance; while
Abenamin
led them a Round of above a Mile. Then, turning short homeward, he came flying up the Avenue, with only
Jack
and two Followers puffing far behind. At length, reaching near the Door, the Prince threw himself precipitately into the Arms of his Friend, as it were for Protection, crying, Save me, my
Harry,
save, save your little Antelope!
Mr.
Clinton
and the Dutchess, then, successively embraced the Victor, and wished him Joy. I protest,
Harry,
cried Mr.
Clinton,
I will bet a thousand Pieces with you, on the Head of my
Abenamin
against your famous
Polly Truck.
That Night, as our Hero sat with the Prince in his Apartment, Have You ever been in Love, my
Harry,
says he? I confess, said
Harry,
that I have had my Twitches and Tendencies that Way.
He then gave him a Narrative of the Struggles of his Heart, respecting the fair
Aggy Jessamin.
And again he related to him the Tragedy of his faithful
Maria,
which cost the Prince the drenching of a Handkerchief in Tears.
Ah, exclaimed the Prince, never, never will I forgive your
Maria
her Death! Why was it not my Lot, by some severer Doom, to prove to you the Superiority of my Friendship and Affection? What, cried
Harry,
would you not leave me a single Companion upon Earth? when my
Abenamin
quits the World, I shall also bid it adieu!
When Tears were wiped away, the Prince took his Friend by the Hand and said: I have a Sister, my Brother, a Sister twinned with me in the Womb, and as fair as I am black. All
Africa
is pleased to hail her as the Beauty of the Universe, but the Truth is, that I think but poorly of her. The Duke brought her with him to
France,
and, should he bring her to
England,
beware of your Heart, my
Harry!
for, though I am prejudiced against her, she is the Idol of all Others, who bow down to her, as before a little Divinity. This has made her so excessively vain, that she holds herself of a different Species from the rest of Mankind, and thinks the Homage of the World nothing less than her Right. And now, my
Harry,
though I earnestly wish to be allied to you, by a Tie, nearer if possible than that of Friendship, yet I would not wish my own Happiness, at the Expense of your Peace; and so I give you timely Warning against this dangerous and haughty Girl.
Our Company had now been upward of six Weeks at the Mansion House.
Harry,
hitherto, had never seen any Part of the Country, or any Part of his own Estate, above a Mile from the House. Wherefore, leaving his Friend
Abenamin
in Bed, in the Presumption of his being tired with his last Day's Fatigue, He issued early forth, accompanied only by
Jack
and his Agent's Runner, who knew and was known every where.
With their Staffs in their Hands, they crossed and quartered the Country, at Pleasure, without Let or Obstacle.
At length, they came within Prospect of a House sumptuously fronted, and of a happy Situation.
Harry
stopped here, with Pleasure, comparing, as he approached, the Acquirements of Art with the Advantages of Nature; when a Servant issued forth, and humbly besought him to walk in.
Harry
heard the Voice of Music. What is your Master's Name, says he?
Fielding,
so please your Honour, and we are this Day celebrating the Nuptials of his Son, the young Squire.
The Master of the Family met our Hero at the outward Door.
Harry
recoiled at recognizing the Face of the Mr.
Fielding,
whom he had seen at
Hamstead,
but, taking no Notice, walked with him into the House.
Breakfast, soon after, was ushered in, and Mrs.
Fielding,
and Mr. and Mrs.
Catharines,
and
Ned
came with his blooming and blushing Bride to the Table.
Harry
chuckled and rejoiced at Heart, but still took no Note; when, after some cursory Conversation,
Ned
looked at him with an eager Disturbance and cried, Bless me, my Heart tells me that there is something in that Face which is not quite unknown to me. If I could think, after my many and late Enquiries, that my Patron was alive, bating the Difference of Years, I should verily believe that you were  your
Harry Fenton,
cried our Hero, springing up, your
Harry Fenton,
my dear
Ned!
Harry
then opened his Arms to receive his Friend, while
Ned
leaped and caught at him, as the grapling Iron of a Corsair would catch at a Ship from which great Prize was expected,
All the Family then, so highly as they had been obliged by our Hero and his Father, struggled who should be foremost in their Acknowledgments and Caresses. The holy
Catharines,
fondly taking him to his Arms cried, Christ be gracious to you, my Child! and may the God, who has formed you as an Angel upon Earth, make you also of the highest Order of Angels in Heaven!
After Dinner,
Harry
rose and took his Leave, but they all got in a Group and opposed his Passage, telling him he must be their Prisoner for that Night. I consent, only on this Condition, said
Harry,
that you promise to dine with me, All, To-morrow. Why pray Sir, where do you live, says Mr.
Fielding?
At
Enfield,
with the young Earl of
Moreland,
says
Harry,
but he has a great Friendship for me, and the House is as it were my own.
Much Company arrived in the Evening, and the Ball was opened and held till late. But our Hero declined dancing, that his Friend
Ned
might stand forth peerless in the Eyes of his Bride.
Harry
rose, by the Dawning, and footed it in an Hour to
Enfield.
He flew up Stairs to salute the Family, but found no One, save Mr.
Clinton,
from whom he received, at once, a warm Blessing and Embrace.
Where is the Dutchess, Sir, and my Friend
Abenamin?
Gone,
Harry,
says his Uncle, about Breakfast Time Yesterday; a Courier arrived with the joyful Tidings that my Brother was on the Road, and so my Sister and our
Abenamin
hastened to meet him. By this Time I suppose they are All on their Return. And now take Care of yourself, my
Harry.
The Duke brings with him the Sister of our
Abenamin,
the fair Princess
AbenaidÃ¨;
the Dutchess tells me that a lovelier Creature never beheld the Light; so that you must guard your Heart with double Bars, against the Power of this Beauty.    She is vain and disdainful, Sir, excessively vain, I am told, so that her Pride will prove an Antidote against the Poison of her Charms. However I will haste to meet and welcome your most noble Brother.
Harry
was mounted on a haughty Charger, that cost fifteen hundred Guineas when a Colt in
Mauritania.
He was white as new fallen Snow, save a black Mane and Tail, one Foot jet Black to the Joint of the Fetlock, and three large blood-like Spots on the far Shoulder. He was so perfectly instructed and subdued to the Manage, that he seemed to have no Will save the Will of his Rider, while
Harry
's least Motion, like Electricity, informed every Joint and Member. O, that the Wills of all Men were equally subdued to the Sceptre of the Prince of Righteousness, reigning and ruling within them!
The Princess came foremost in an open Chariot drawn by six spotted Arabians. The Chariot was plated all around in burnished Gold emblazoned with Gems of Lustre. But, if the Eye could scarce bear the Blaze of the Vehicle, much less could it support the Brightness of the Beauty who sat enthroned within it.
Harry
bowed twice, as he approached, but she scare deigned a perceptible Nod of Acknowledgment to his Salute.    Our Hero felt himself piqued. Proud Beauty! thought he, I thank you for your timely Prevention of a Passion that, perhaps, might have proved unhappy to me. He then passed forward with affected Carelesness to salute the Duke.
When he came up, the Coach stopped, and
Harry,
flying from his Saddle, approached the Window, while his Steed stood trembling but motionless behind him.
My Lord, said
Harry,
seizing the Duke's Hand and respectfully kissing it, if you were sensible of the Joy that my Heart receives from your Presence, I think it would make you nearly as happy as myself. My sweet Fellow, said the Duke, I have often heard of you at
Paris,
as also by the Letters of my Love here; my Longing at last is gratified, though my Wonder is increased.
But Madam, says
Harry,
what have you done with my little Playfellow, what's become of my
Abenamin?
O, cried the Dutchess, laughing, he is forthcoming I warrant you; but what has so bewitched you to him? I think you could not be fonder, if he were a Mistress. True, Madam, answered
Harry,
sighing, I never look to have a Mistress that I shall love half as well; but pray put me out of Pain, and let me know where he is. Be pacified, said the smiling Duke, he is not far off; and here is my Hand and Promise that you shall see him before Night.
Our Hero then turned, and touching his left Hand to the Shoulder of his Horse, he rose perpendicular, like a Pyramid of Fire, and again descended on his Seat, as a Flake of Snow on a Rose-Bud. He then touched his white Wand to the Neck of his Steed, who instantly mounted the Air, like a winged
Pegasus,
while the Dutchess shouted out, thinking her
Harry
a gone Man, but he returned as composed, as though he were seated on a Bed of Cotton.
The Coach now began to move, and
Harry
put his Wand to the Flank of his Horse, who, turning his Head to the Carriage, as of his own Accord, moved sidelong toward
Enfield,
with a proud but gentle Prancing; while the Duke cried out, Look, look! O the Boy, O the Boy, the lovely glorious Boy!
As our Hero attended the Carriage of the Duke, the Princess and her Train had got to the House and alighted, while
Harry
opened the Coach Door, and handed out the noble Pair, who alternately kissed and took him to their Arms. Mr.
Clinton
then came forth and received them All with Transport. But
Harry,
under some Pretence, walked away, ruminating, in order to avoid the disdainful Regards of the young Lady.
In the mean Time, our Company, rejoicing, and caressing Each other all the Way, had got slowly, though very lovingly, to the great Mansion Parlour. The Duke then, respectfully taking the young Lady by the Hand, Permit me, Brother, says he, to recommend to you my lovely Ward, the fair Princess of
Morocco.
The Lady then gently bent one Knee toward the Ground, while she received the cordial Blessing and Salute of the old Gentleman.
They then took their Seats. When, Mr.
Clinton,
while he looked more earnestly on the Princess, grew suddenly affected, and called out for a Glass of fair Water and Hartshorn. When he drank it, be found himself in a Measure restored, and, lifting his Hands, he cried, I protest One would think that Nature had copied this young and lovely Creature from an Image that has lain impressed upon my Heart, near these forty Years.
You are in the right, my Brother, exclaimed the Duke, it is even as you surmize. Allow me then, once more, to introduce to you the Counterpart of our once adorable
Louisa,
to introduce to you my Niece and your own Offspring, my Brother, even the Daughter of your still living and ever precious
Eloisa.
The Princess then sprung forward, and, dropping precipitately at the Feet of her Grandfather, she put her Face between his Knees, and, seizing both Hands, she bathed them with her Tears, crying, My Father, O my Father, my dear, my dearest Father, how inexpressibly blessed I think myself, to be the Offspring of such a Father! Mr.
Clinton
then raising her, and seating her fondly on his Knee, and grasping her to his Bosom, I will not ask, he cried, how these Miracles came about, it is enough that I feel the Attraction which pulls you into my Heart. And so saying, their Tears flowed, till they mingled on the Flooring.
Go, my Angel, said Mr.
Clinton,
and take yonder Seat, that I may view and delight my Soul with your Sight, at Leisure. My Eyes begin, at these Years, to see best at a Distance.
At length, the soft Voice of our
Harry
was heard in the Hall, and the Duke, whispering his Brother, requested him, for a little Time, to take no Notice of what had passed.
Our Hero then entered, bowing respectfully and gracefully, but carelessly toward the Side where the Princess sat. He then took his Seat beside the Duke, and bending fondly to him, and seizing a Hand, with both his Hands, he pressed it to his Lips and cried, Welcome, welcome, my dearest Lord, to the House and the Hearts of your truest Lovers!
Then, giving a Glance to the Side where the Princess sat, he caught a Glimpse of her Attractions and, sighing, said to himself, O, the Pity, the Pity! But, no Matter; her Pride shall never suffer a single Charm to take Place; and, so thinking, he turned his Eyes aside.
Mean time,
AbenaidÃ¨
arose, with as little Noise as a Hare from her Seat; and stealing round, like a Cat circumventing a Mouse, She came behind
Harry
's Chair, and reaching, and covering an Eye, with each of her Hands, she turned his Head to her, and made a Sound with her Lips, as though she had kissed him.
Harry
opened his Eyes in utter Astonishment, while in a Twinkling standing before him, she chuckled a Laugh and cried, Ha, ha, he, --my
Harry,
what, have you forgot me, don't you remember your old Playfellow, your little Friend
Abenamin?
Harry
's Eyes were now opened, in the Midst of the Hurry and Agitation of his Soul. At a Glimpse he took in the whole Oppression of her Beauties; and, casting himself, quick as a Glance of Lightning, at her Feet, he seized the Hem of her Robeing and glued it to his Mouth.
At length, lifting up his Eyes, he cried, Ah, what are all these Wonders to me, or my Happiness, unless my
Abenamin
will also become my
AbenaidÃ¨?
That, replied the Princess, is not at my Option, there sits my Lord and Father at whose Disposal I am.
Harry
then rose, and, throwing himself at the Feet of his revered Patron, embraced his Legs in Silence, while Mr.
Clinton
cried out, Yes, my
Harry,
I understand you; nothing shall ever be wanting to the Happiness of my Darling, that the Power of his tender Parent and loving Uncle can effect. I can have nothing in Heaven or Earth, that is not the Property of my
Harry. Harry
kissed his Feet and sprung up.
Mr.
Clinton
then continued, I aver, I am still in a Labyrinth. Did you not say, my
AbenaidÃ¨,
that you were also our
Abenamin?
I did, my Lord, says she, but I did not dare to avow myself. Ah what a painful Struggle did that Restriction cost me! while I panted to catch and to cling to your honoured Feet; while I used to look, and gaze upon you, unperceived; while my Heart swelled with Affection, and my Eyes with restrained Tears, and while I kissed, in secret, the Book that you read, and the Ground that you trod on.
AbenaidÃ¨
then sat down, and
Harry,
lightly throwing himself on the Ground beside her, looked beseechingly around and cried, My Lord, my dearest Lady, our still precious
Fanny Goodall,
can you vouch, can ye warrant that I am safe in this Matter? Then, looking up to the Princess, and drinking her in; No, he cried, you cannot engage it, I feel that I shall perish in the very Ecstasy of the Expectation of being united to her.
Just then, Mr.
Meekly
came in. He had been long and far away, upon many a blessed Tour of doing good through the Earth. But, as soon as he heard of the Arrival of his beloved Patron and young Lord, he rode post to embrace them.
Harry
sprung from Love to Friendship, and catching him in his Arms, cried, O, my
Meekly,
my dearest
Meekly,
how seasonably you come, to temper, by your Advice, the insufferable Transports of my Soul; behold the Regent of my Heart, behold the Queen of all my Wishes!
Meekly
then fixed his Eyes upon the Princess, and soon after exclaimed; Gracious Father! what do I see? Can
the Louisa
be resuscitated and new raised from the Dead? O then, it must be so, she must be her Descendent. No One, save my peerless Patroness, could produce the Likeness of my Patroness. But how this blessing Miracle was brought about is the Question.
That is my Question too, my dear
Meekly,
said Mr.
Clinton,
if my most noble Brother would be so good as to solve it. I will gratify you, Gentlemen, said the Duke, in as few Words as possible. Mean while, the Princess withdrew.
On my Embassy to the Court of
Morocco,
I had several private Interviews with the Emperor, before my Credentials were opened in Public. I had the good Fortune to be liked by him, so that he suffered no Day to pass without seeing me. His Name was
Abenamin,
he was accounted a great Captain, he exceeded All in his Dominions for Grace of Person and Beauty of Aspect; and that which rendered him still more singular was, that he had given Liberty to all the Ladies of his Seraglio, and, for many Years, had kept constant to the reigning Sultana, said to be the most exquisite Beauty upon Earth.
As we grew more intimate, in the Exuberance of his Affection for his Empress, he could not refrain from speaking of her to me, and he promised that, before I departed, I should see and converse with her; a Grace, he said, never granted to any other Man.
At length, the Day being appointed for my public Entry, I rode through the City, attended by a sumptuous Train, and alighting before the Palace, advanced to the Hall of Audience.
The Emperor was seated, with his Sultana at his right Hand, upon a Throne of Ivory. As soon as I had approached the Presence, and began to open my Commission, the Empress gave a great Shriek, and fell over in a Swoon upon the Bosom of her Husband.
The royal
Abenamin
instantly turned pale as Death, tore off her Veil with trembling Hands to give her Air, and called me to his Assistance, as it is accounted Profanation for any Moor to touch the Person of the Empress. But, O Heaven, O my Friend! think what was my Astonishment when, in the pale Face of the Queen, I beheld the loved Features of our darling
Eloisa!
The Court broke up in Confusion, and her Women came hurrying with Drops and Essences. As soon as she recovered, she opened her Eyes upon me, and reaching out her Arms, and catching me to her, she cried. O my Uncle, my dearest Uncle, am I so blessed then as to behold you before I expire.
The Monarch, in the mean Time, looked upon me with a jealous Eye, and twice put his Hand to the Haft of his Dagger, but checked his rising Indignation, till he should have the Mystery of his Queen's Behaviour explained. The Women then raised her up and bore her to her Apartment; while the Emperor, turning to me, with no very friendly Aspect, ordered me to follow him.
When I had attended a considerable Time in the Antichamber, He came forth with a serene and joyous Countenance, and embracing me, cried, O my Friend, my dear Kinsman, how transported I am to find and acknowledge You for such; the Parent of my Angel becomes a Part of myself.
He then led me by the Hand into the Bedchamber of my
Eloisa,
where we renewed our Caresses without Restraint. But the Monarch, fearing that these Emotions would be too much for her, told me that he had something for my private Ear till Dinner; and took me into an adjoining Closet.
There, seating, and taking me affectionately by the Hand, I will now tell you, my Uncle, says he, how I came by this inestimable Treasure of your Niece.
I had fitted out a royal Ship of my own, not as a Corsair, but rather for Trade in the
Mediterranean.
On their Return from the Coast of
Egypt,
as they past, after a violent Hurricane, within Sight of old
Carthage,
my People perceived, at a Distance, a Sloop stranded on a Shoal of Sand about a League from the Shore. Immediately they sent out a Boat and took the distressed Company in, consisting of my Charmer, two female Companions, and three Servants in Livery, beside the Boatmen.
The Intendants of my Ship behaved themselves with all possible Respect toward the young Lady and her Attendants, and endeavoured to quiet her Terrors, by assuring her that she was free, and that their Prince was a Person of too much Honour and Humanity to derive any Advantage from the Disasters of the Unfortunate.
The Moment that they brought her before me, pale, trembling and in Tears; while she dropped on her Knees, and lifted to me her fine Eyes in a petitioning Manner; the Gates of my Soul opened to the sweetly affecting Image, and ever after closed, of their own accord, upon it.
Ah, I cried, heavenly Creature, calm, calm your causeless Fears! I swear by our Prophet and the God of our Prophet, that I would rather suffer the Gaunch, than put the smallest Constraint on your Person or Inclinations. You are free, Madam, you shall ever be free, save so far as I may bind you by my tender Offices and Affections.
I raised her, and she grew something better assured; when, bending a Knee in my Turn, I kissed her Robe and cried, Look not upon me as your Tyrant, look not on me as your Lover; but look upon me as your Friend, the tenderest and truest of Friends, who shall ever be ready to sacrifice his own Happiness to Your's.
From that Time I studied every Amusement, every Diversion, that might serve to dissipate the timid Shrinkings of her remaining Apprehensions. While I conducted myself toward her, with a distant though fond Respect, not even presuming to touch her ivory Hand.
In the mean Time, my Soul sickened, and grew cold to all other Women. If you were ever in Love, my dear
D'Aubigny,
you know that it is a chaste as well as a tender Passion. I languished indeed for her, I longed and languish'd to Death; but then it was rather for her Heart than her Person that I languished.
One Day, as she heaved a heavy but half suppressed Sigh, Ah my Angel, I cried, I can have no Joy but Your's, and yet You have Griefs to which you keep your Friend, your
Abenamin
a Stranger. True, my Lord, says she, Tears breaking from her, all your Bounties have not been able to silence the Calls of Kindred or Claims of Nature within me. Ah, my Parents, my dear Parents; I feel more for You, than I feel even for myself, in being torn from you.
The Weight of her Affliction fell, like a Mountain, on my Soul and crushed me to her Feet. You would leave me then,
Eloisa,
you wish to leave me, but your Generosity delays to tell me so, for fear of breaking my Heart.    Well, be it so  go from me  you know I cannot survive you  but, my Death is of no Consequence, my
Eloisa
shall be happy.    I will go this Instant, I will dispatch my swiftest Galley to
Languedoc
  I will write Word to your Parents that you are safe, that you are beloved, and yet pure and untouched, since respected as a Deity.    I will invite them to come and take Possession of my Treasures, my Dominions, my Heart: But  should they reject my Suit, I again swear, by
Alla,
to send You to them, laden with Wealth, though I myself should drop dead at the Instant of your Departure.
The noble Soul of my
Eloisa
became instantly affected. She caught a Hand between both of hers, and bathing it with Tears, cried, O, now indeed you have bound me by Chains infinitely stronger than all the Shackles that fasten the Slaves to the Gallies of
Africa.
I kept firm to my Engagement, and, in a few Weeks, my winged Messengers returned. But, O the Tidings, the very doleful Tidings for my Beloved! They brought Word that they found no Creature; save two ancient Domestics in the great Hotel, as two Ravens in the Midst of a lonely Forest.
From these they learned, that my
Eloisa
's Mother and little Brother were dead, that her Grandmother was dead, her Aunt the Marchioness also dead, and that the Marquis had retired they knew not whither.
She wept incessantly, and I wept with her.    At length she softly said; You have conquered, my Lord, you have conquered; I am subdued by your Weight of Affection! O, that You could but conform to one Article more, that we might be united as one Heart, and one Soul, and one Sentiment for ever!
It was now, for the first Time, that I dared to seize her Hand, I crushed it to my Lips, and thrust it into my Soul. What would you enjoin, I cried, I would do any Thing, dare any Thing to be united to my
Eloisa!
in Life and in Death, Body to Body and Dust to Dust, never never to be sundered, till her Spirit should make the Heaven of my Spirit hereafter.
Ah, she suddenly exclaimed, that, that is the very Thing I so eagerly desire. Let the God of my Heart be the God of your Heart, let the God of my Spirit be the God of your Spirit, so shall we be united in him, and jointly partake of his Blessedness through Eternity!
Ah, I cried, can I forego the divine Precepts of our Prophet? Your Prophet, says she, preaches only to the Eye and the Ear, and this is all that he does or can pretend to: But
Christ,
my Prophet, preaches, in the Heart, to the Affections. From him is every good Motion divine or human, He is the unknown God of your Spirit, my Master, my
Abenamin,
and you feel his precious Power while you disavow his Name.
I was puzzled, I was silenced. I bent a Knee in Reverence, kissed her Hand, and withdrew.
I sent for the Chief of the Christian Missionaries, throughout the City and Country. I consulted Each of them in private, but received no Satisfaction from them. They All appeared equally zealous for my Reformation, but attempted it by different and even by opposite Arguments.
Some would have persuaded me to be Christian, by showing the Absurdity of every Religion that was not Christian. Others affirmed that my eternal Salvation depended on my Conformity to certain external Rules and Penances. While the greatest Number inveighed against the Christians of every other Denomination; and would have thrust me wholly from Christ, if I did not consent to receive him within their stinted Pale.
I knew not what to do: I was put to a Stand, and quite confused by this Multiplicity of conflicting Opinions. At length, a Countryman of my own came to me from the desert. He had been a great Sinner, but was converted by the Sense of his Sins, and he was revered and resorted to by All the Friendless and Afflicted.
I opened my Soul to him, with all its Doubts and Difficulties.    My Friend in CHRIST, said he, with a gentle and still Voice, they have been leading you all astray, quite away from the Haven that stretches forth its Arms for the Reception of long toiled Mariners, whom Storms have, at length, compelled to seek a final Port.
The God of your Creation can alone be your Redemption, the God of your Nature can alone be the Salvation of the Nature that he imparted. But, who shall convince you of this? Not all the Angels in Heaven, nor all the Doctors upon Earth, till the Christ of your Heart shall be pleased to convince you that you are, as indeed you are (however mighty a Monarch) a poor, frail, erring, vile, and despicable Creature; subjected to innumerable Lapses and Infirmities, Sickness, Passions, and Crosses, Griefs, Agonies and Death. When this is effectually done, the Whole of the Business is done. You will call for and catch at a Saviour, in the Sensibility of your Want of him. When you come thus laden with your Sins to him, he will in no wise cast you out. But he will take you, as
Noah
took the wearied Dove into the Ark. He will take you within the Veil of his own Temple of Rest, and all Sects, Forms, and Ceremonies will be as the outward Courts, with which you shall have no Manner of Commerce or Concern.
My Heart felt the Weight and the Fullness of Conviction. I took him to my Arms and requested instant Baptism. My
Eloisa
was called, we locked ourselves in. And I was washed by Water and Faith into Christ, while my kneeling Angel wept a Stream of Delight beside me.
It is said that Possession cloys. But I experienced, my dear
D'Aubigny,
that Love never cloys. Every Day, with my
Eloisa,
seemed to triumph, in heart-felt Happiness, over my first bridal Day. But O, what was the Joy, the Exultation of my fond Heart, when she gave me to be the Father of a little Daughter of Paradise!
One Day, while we were toying and fooling with the smiling Infant, and throwing her, as she crowed, from the One to the Other. Ah, my Husband, cries
Eloisa,
how poor I was lately, no Parents, no Kindred, nothing but my
Abenamin
upon the whole Earth; and now God has been pleased to make my Affliction to laugh, and to give this Babe for a further Band, a precious Link of Love between us.
He was just in this Part of his Narration, when the Music sounded to the Banquet. We instantly rose and joined our
Eloisa.
When the Collation was removed. Madam, said I to the Empress, have you ever heard of a Relation, of yours, christened by the Name of
Fanny Goodall,
and lately Countess of
Maitland?
I have, said she, often heard my fond Father speak of her with filling Eyes. She is in this City, Madam. She is no longer Countess of
Maitland.
She is now doubly your Relation, your Aunt as well as your Cousin, and goes by the Title of the Marchioness
D'Aubigny.
With the good Leave of my Lord here, I will bring her to you directly.
I went to the Palace appointed for my Residence: I there gave my
Fanny
a few Heads of the Story of our
Eloisa,
and took her hastily to the Presence.
The Ladies looked at Each other, in long and silent Admiration. Then, opening their Arms, and rushing together, they continued some Minutes locked in mutual Embraces.
Madam, said the Emperor, smiling, I think I ought to be allowed the same Liberties with my Aunt, that your Husband took with his Niece. Whereon, he welcomed and caressed her with an affectionate Fervour.
O, exclaimed the royal Fair, how very poor, and how very rich our God can suddenly make us! But then, Lord of my Life, to think of parting, of parting with these dear Friends again, perhaps never to see them more, that's what sinks and wrings my Heart, in the very Midst of Exultation!
That, my Love, said the Emperor, is the very important Article on which I wish to consult with you and our Friends here, our dear Kindred in Christ. But I must first show them their young Relation, my little Enchantress, my priceless Pearl, my Eye delighting
Abenaide.
He then stepped forth, and, after a while, led in a gracefully moving Creature, but veiled from the Head to the Waist. Throw up your Veil, my Love, says he; here are none but your Friends, your very dear Relations, your lovely Aunt and your Uncle, the Marquis and Marchioness
D'Aubigny.
She did as she was ordered, and instantly broke upon my Sight, like a new Glory arisen upon Mid-day.
My
Fanny
seized upon her, as desirous of devouring her. And I, in turn, took her to me, with tearfull Eyes, as almost persuaded that I embraced the newly revived Person of my dearest Sister
Louisa;
so perfect was the Resemblance in every Grace and Feature.
When we had nearly oppressed the celestial looking Maid with our insatiate Caresses; She seized our Hands and, kissing them, cried, What a blessed Day is this, that enriches
AbenaidÃ¨
with two Parents more; another precious Father, and another lovely Mother, happy, happy
AbenaidÃ¨.
Her royal Father then gave a Beck, and she instantly vanished; while her Absence seemed to cast a Shade throughout the Room.
The Monarch then, deeply musing and heavily sighing, began  I am now, my dearest Friends, Friends beloved above the World and all that it contains, I am now to open to you my inmost Heart, and to reveal a Purpose whereon I have been ruminating these many Months, but could not hit on an Expedient for bringing it to pass. How opportune has our
Jesus
sent you to us on this Occasion!
I have but the two Children living; my
AbenaidÃ¨,
and a Son, by a former Woman of my Seraglio. His Name is
Abencorrage;
he is a Youth renowned in the Field, but of a proud and impetuous Demeanour. He had long conceived an illicit Passion for his young and lovely Sister. At length the Fire broke forth, and he lately attempted her Honour.
I would instantly have put him to death, had I any other Heir to succeed to my Dominions. I therefore contented myself with banishing him my Court and my Presence, though I am sensible that this has not availed for the extinguishing his horrid Flame.
Now, my Friends, should I die, or should this violent Boy break into Rebellion, for he is the Favourite of the licentious Soldiery, I tremble to think what would become of my bright eyed Dove, within the Talons of such a Vulture.
This, together with my eager Desire of quitting a Kingdom of Infidels, and of joining with the blessed Society and Communion of Saints, has, after some Struggles, determined me to abdicate my Throne, as soon as I can amass and transmit a Fund sufficient for supporting my
Eloisa
and myself, with becoming Dignity, in her native Country.
Ah, my Lord, I cried, clasping him passionately in my Arms, regard not your Treasures, delay not a Moment for that! your
Eloisa
's Relations, both by Father and Mother, are possessed of princely Fortunes, and they will all be freely at the Disposal of your Majesty.
Ah, my
D'Aubigny,
said he, I am not yet so duly mortified a Christian as needlesly to elect a State of Dependence, or willingly to descend at once from the King to the Beggar. I have however been preparing: I have already converted a large Part of my Effects into Bills and Jewels, of high Value but light Portage, to the amount, as I think, of about Sixty Million of
French
Money; this I will transmit by you, and as soon as I shall have compassed an equal Sum, I will stay no longer in
Africa,
I will fly to your Bosoms, my precious Friends.
In the mean Time, this violent and lustful Boy gives no Rest to my Apprehensions. It is therefore necessary that I commit my
AbenaidÃ¨
to your Trust. It is necessary, I say, that I tear away my choicest Limb, the dearest Part of my Vitals! Support me, Christ, in the Trial, but it must be gone through.
This, however, must be done with all possible Privacy. I am persuaded that my young Villain has his Spies in and about my Palace. I shall therefore request my dear Aunt, to disguise my little Girl in Boy's Apparel, and to blacken every Part of her visible Complexion, that she may pass unnoticed, as your Page, through the Midst of my Attendants. As also that it may prove, during the Travels of my Darling, a Preservative against the Lust of the Eye, and any further Attempt tending to Violation.
At length the Time approached and pressed for my Departure, but how to part was the Question. All Attendants were ordered to avoid the Presence, far away. Our metamorphosed
AbenaidÃ¨
stood weeping beside us, while her Father and Mother crushed us, successively, to their Bosoms. All was Passion, a Gush of Tears, but not a Word was uttered on any Part.
O, my
D'Aubigny,
cried the Emperor at length, Friend, Brother of my Heart, can you conceive what I feel at this Instant? I regard not the World, nor the Things of the World. Omit such necessary Accommodations as are common to us with Brutes; and All, belonging to the immortal and divine Humanity of Man, is Magnetism, is Fellowship, the Feeling, as of Steel to Adamant, and of Adamant to Steel. There is the Friendship, the Endearment, the Love, passing Love, and surpassing all other Enjoyment. If we meet again, my
D'Aubigny,
I shall anticipate my Heaven!
Again, he embraced his little Angel, and again he embraced his Queen, and besought her to be comforted. We then took Leave, as for the last; and again they called us back, and embraced and took Leave again; till, seeing no End, I suddenly broke away, hurrying with us our
AbenaidÃ¨,
for fear of Observation. I forgot, however, to tell You that, the Day before our Departure, the royal
Abenamin
had enjoined me to set apart twenty Million of Livres, for the Portion of his Child, in case she should be married to any great Prince or Potentate, requesting me, at the same Time, not to put any Constraint on the Inclinations of his Lamb.
I have little further to say, my Brother. We arrived safe at
Paris,
where we received your Letter; and, impatient to make you happy, I dispatched my
Fanny
with her Train and your
AbenaidÃ¨
before me; enjoining them, however, not to reveal our Secret till my Arrival. For, as I had charged myself with the Loss of your
Eloisa,
I deemed myself best entitled to make you Reparation in Person. But, I ought not to omit that, before I left
Paris,
I received a further Remittance of twenty Million from your Son-in-law, so that we may speedily look to have the royal Pair in
England.
Soon after, a Post Chaise whirled into the Court, and
Harry,
flying out, caught
Clement
and
Arabella
into his strict Embrace. He then hurried them in, where Mr.
Clinton
received and caressed, and introduced them to the Duke and Dutchess, as Persons of great Merit, and his highly valued Friends. He then presented to them his
AbenaidÃ¨,
who accordingly saluted
Clement,
and embraced
Arabella
with an affectionate Familiarity.
O Sir, cried our Hero, kissing his Uncle's Hand, am I to be the last Person in the World, whom you will honour with a Salute from your bewitching Daughter? I ask your Pardon, my Lord, said Mr.
Clinton
(solemnly) Allow me then, at length, to repair my Omission by presenting to your Earlship her little Highness
AbenaidÃ¨.
The Duke and Dutchess and
Meekly
laughed. But
Harry
was not a whit the slower in laying hold of his Advantage. He kissed her Forehead, her Eyes, her Cheeks, and lastly dwelt upon her Lips, as though he would have infused his Soul between them.
Harry, Harry,
cried Mr.
Clinton,
I will never introduce you to my Girl again, unless you promise not to kiss so hard and bring so much Blood into her Face.
Just then a Footman entered; My Lord, says he to
Harry,
here are three Carriages and several Horsemen waiting without the Gate, they enquire for one Master
Fenton
who, they say, lives with the Earl of
Moreland,
but I assured them there was no such Person in the House. O Sir, said
Harry,
these are our old Friends the
Fieldings,
and out he flew.
As he approached the Carriages, the Company gave a Shout of Joy. Why, Sir, said Mr.
Fielding,
a Servant denied you to us, and said that no One of the Name of
Fenton
lived here. O, says
Harry,
don't heed the Puppy, he is but a new Comer.
He then opened the Doors of the Carriages, and handed and kissed them, in Turns, as they came out, Mr. and Mrs.
Fielding,
the reverend Mr.
Catharines
and his sainted
Phaebe,
and
Ned
and his blooming Bride.
Mr.
Clinton
received them at the Door, with the Joy of his Heart apparent in his Countenance. He then introduced them to his most noble Brother and Sister, to his Friend
Meekly,
and lastly he presented his
AbenaidÃ¨
to them, on whom they all gazed in mute and reverential Astonishment.
Harry
then observing that his Uncle had not equally presented his Daughter to
Ned.
Sir, says he, I apprehend that this is not quite fair; I have already kissed the fair Bride of my Friend, with all my Heart, and it is but honest that he should be favoured with a Salute from Mine, in turn.
Harry
then took
Ned
by the Hand and presented him to his Beloved. While
Ned
bent the Knee, and touching her Hand tremblingly, looked awfully to her Face, and said: Yes, Bride of
Eden,
lovely Extract of every Beauty! You alone can reward, You alone can deserve him, You alone are fitted to be the Mate of my incomparable Lord and Master, my Patron and Preserver! So saying, he lightly touched his Lips to the polished Hand. But the Praises of her
Harry
had gone, with a pleasant Trickling, to the Heart of
AbenaidÃ¨,
and, gently raising
Ned,
she affectionately saluted him, with a glistening Eye.
Pray Sir, said Mr.
Fielding,
whisperingly, to Mr.
Clinton,
is the Earl of
Moreland
in Company ?    That is he, Sir, pointing to
Harry.
  O then, cried
Fielding,
he is titled below his Merits, it was for an Emperor that Nature intended him.
Dinner was then served.    During the Repast the Duke said, Let us not, my Brother, keep our
Harry
in Pain: Why should we delay the Happiness of Children so very dear to us? With Regard to your Child's Marriage to some mighty Prince, as your Son-in-law hinted, I think her more ennobled and more illustrious, by her Marriage with our Hero here, who purchased her, at his Peril, than if she were mated to the greatest Potentate on Earth.
You must excuse me, my noble Brother, said Mr.
Clinton,
I will have no clandestine Doings in this Business. My Girl shall be married in the Face and witnessing of Thousands; left hereafter, this young Rogue should have the Effrontery to deny her. What Day of the Week is this,
Thursday,
I think, let
Monday
Sennight be the Day!
Harry
rose and pressed and kissed the Hand of the Duke with Rapture, and then kissed the Hand of his Patron in silent Submission.
They kept the
Fieldings
with them for three Days. But
Harry
would not part with his
Clement,
nor
AbenaidÃ¨
with
Arabella
till the Marriage should be over.
Harry,
in the Presence of these two Friends, attempted to take some little accustomed Liberties, under her Name of
Abenamin.
But, the Proprietor of his Heart sweetly repulsed him and cried, No, no, honest Friend, I will box with you whenever, and as often as you please, but, no more wrestling, my
Harry!
In the mean Time, all Preparations were pushed into Forwardness by Mr.
Clinton.
The many Shops of the many Towns, within many Miles around, were emptied of their Boards and Sheeting, their Knives and Forks,
&c.
Thousands of Tables and Forms were framed, Thousands of Tents were erected. Proclamation was made in every Village, and all People, within thirty Miles, invited to the Wedding.
When the Day approached, one hundred Oxen were slain, five hundred Sheep, three hundred Swine, with fifty fat Deer,
&c. &c.
The Spits fried, and the Cauldrons smoked over the Fires of many a Field.
At length the auspicious Morning rose; and
Harry
and his Bride were already up and dressed in their respective Apartments.
Harry
wore a Jacket and Drawers of white Satin. His Locks flowed through a Knot of oriental Pearl. And a Mantle of purple Velvet, embroidered with Needle wrought Flowers of Gold, hung over his left Shoulder, and came under the right Arm in floating Skirts, joined at the Ends by a Buckle of Carbuncles.
The Princess was habited, after the
Persian
Fashion, in a Vest of Silver Brocading, scollop'd over a Petticoat of the same Fabric, that flowed in a Train behind. A Scarf of cerulean Tint flew between her right Shoulder and her left Hip, being buttoned at each End by a Rose of Rubies. Her shining Tresses of jetty Black, bound together at her Neck beneath a huge Amethyst, fell down in luxuriant Ringlets, and shaded and revealed, by Turns, the fine Bend of her tapering Waist. A Coronet of Diamonds, through which there waved a white Branch of the Feathers of the Estrich, was inserted on the left Decline of her lovely Head. And a Stomacher of inestimable Brilliants rose beneath her dazzling Bosom, and, by a fluctuating Blaze of unremitted Glory, checked and turned the Eye away from too presumptuous a Gaze.
Our Hero, coming forth, beheld her, as a Pillar of Fire, just issuing from her Antichamber. He stepped back, as she advanced, and fixed his Eyes upon her in mute Astonishment; then springing forward he fell prostrate and kissed the Hem of her Robeing. Again rising on one Knee, he lifted his Hands toward Heaven, and his Eyes to her glowing Countenance. Oppressive Power of Beauty! he cried, O, may every Day rise, like this, on my Soul-enrapturing
AbenaidÃ¨,
encircling her with Friendship, Love, and Joy, and the Knee of admiring Thousands!
Arabella
attended her royal Friend, and
Clement
his noble Pupil, just as
Longfield
entered to give an Account of his Expedition. But, he had scarce begun his Detail, when, catching the Image that had long since made an Impression on his Heart, he started and turned pale, and breaking off he cried, Bless me, my Lord, Mrs.
Clement,
I think! Yes, my
Longfield,
said
Harry,
and here too is your old and fast Friend
Hammel Clement. Clement
would not have known
Longfield
in his present genteel Plight; but, hearing his Name, and recollecting him at a Glance, he flew and seized upon him with a strenuous Embrace.
Arabella
then advanced to welcome her old Friend; but poor
Longfield
respectfully bowed and shrunk back.
You shall not escape me so, my dear Mr.
Longfield,
says she; I cannot forget what I owe you, even my Life and Reputation; and I bless the Father of Mercies, who has put it in our Power to pay Part of our Debt, and so saying she embraced him with Freedom and Cordiality. Yes, my dear
Longfield,
cried
Hammel,
your's is the Half of our Fortunes, and more than the Half of our Hearts. Your Heart, Sir, said
Longfield,
will ever be most valuable; but as to any Thing additional, the Bounty of my young Master has rendered all further Fortune quite superfluous to me.
Longfield
then beckoned his Lord forth, that he might relate to his Eye, rather than to his Ear, the Success of his Commission. They hastened to a long Barn, where he showed
Harry
two Ranges of beautiful Children, One of a hundred chosen Girls, Another of a hundred chosen Boys, All dressed in a clean and elegant Uniform.
Harry
walked between the Ranks, his Heart exulting in the Sense of its own divine Humanity. Then, embracing his Agent, Yes, my
Longfield,
he cried, These shall be indeed my Children; and I will prove a true and affectionate Father to them. But let us hasten to bestow upon them a tender Mother too, I trust.
He flew back, as a Glimpse of Lightening, and seizing and half devouring the Hand of his Bride, Will you pardon me, my Beloved, says he, some Matters that happened before our Union? I have collected all the Children I ever had before Marriage. I scorn any Thing that is clandestine. They wait for your Inspection; and I hope that you will not prove a hard Stepmother to them. You are a Rogue, says she, archly smiling, and giving him a Pat on the Cheek; but come along, and so saying, away they tripped.
The Princess walked, with a silent and musing Attention, up and down the Ranges. Her Heart grew strongly affected, and, taking out her Handkerchief, she wiped away the dropping Tear. And has my Lord, says she to
Longfield,
has he indeed taken upon him to be a Father to all this pretty Host of Little Ones? He has, so please your Highness, says
Longfield,
and has accordingly clothed and provided for them. O, she cried, under the FATHER, which is in Heaven, he is the dearest and sweetest Father that ever was upon Earth! So exclaiming, she sprung at
Harry,
and notwithstanding her late Coyness, scarce vouchsafing a Hand to his Lips, she now grappled about his Neck, half smothering him with the Repetition of her Kisses and Caresses; and then thrusting her Face into his Bosom, she vented her Passion in Tears.
On their Return, they perceived Mr.
Clinton,
the Duke and Dutchess, all standing in the great folding Door, and flying up the marble Steps, they Both bent the Knee, and received the joint Blessings and successive Caresses of their three exulting Parents.
Just then
Harry
spied Goodman
Dobson
and his Dame coming diffidently but puffingly up the Avenue. Instantly he caught his Angel by the Hand and hastened to meet them. He took them successively in his Arms, and kissed them with warm Affection, while with yearning Hearts and Bowels, they wished him Joy upon Joy. They then kneeled down on each Side of the Princess, kissing her Hands and Garments, and blessing her for bestowing such a Heaven of Beauty upon their
Harry.
But, as soon as
Harry
told her that they were his Fosterers, his very dear Daddy and Mammy; she raised and kissed them, in turns, with her Arms about their Necks; and besought them to be her Daddy and Mammy also; for, alas, says she, my Daddy and Mammy are far away.
Harry
then gave them into the Hands of his Man
Jack,
with Orders to take them to the Larder.
The Multitude, before this, began to thicken apace. And the Youth had got together in the great Lawn, casting the Coit and the Sledge, and leaping over a Cord that was raised between two Posts.
My lovely
Harry,
cried the Duke, I have heard Things, almost incredible, of your Prowess and Action, but never saw any Sample save the mounting of your
Bucephealus.
Will you be so good to give me some Instance of your Excellence among yonder young Competitors, whom I suppose to be the most eminent that the Shire can exhibit? Do, my
Harry,
said Mr.
Clinton,
clasping and kissing him, indulge my dearest Brother on this our Day of Jubilee.
Harry
bowed, and ordered
Jack
to bring him his Quarterstaff, and dispatched Another for a Cord and two long Poles. He then walked down the Avenue, attended by the Males and Females of the whole Family.
As they approached the Lawn, a Youth, of uncommon Vigour, had cleared the former Cord, though raised to something upward of five Feet in Height, but All, who attempted to follow, either recoiled or pitched over.
Harry
then caused his two Poles to be erected to an Elevation of ten Feet, with a Cord reaching from Top to Top. The Multitude came down, in Thousands, to see what they were about. When
Harry,
having cleared the contested Cord with a standing Hop, went backward from his lofty Poles, about the Distance of thirty Paces; then, rushing forward, he advanced one End of his Staff to the Ground, and springing, and raising, and rising upon the opposite End, he pitched himself over the elevated String, while the Multitude beheld him, as a new risen Phenix, suspended and glittering in the Air, and then alighting, as winged, on the other Side.
The Elements were rent by a universal Shout, which followed and undulated after our Company, till they sheltered themselves within the House.
The
Fieldings
then arrived, with the reverable Mr.
Catharines,
who was appointed to join the angelic Pair.
After Breakfast, the Carriages were ordered out. First, Mr.
Clinton
and his
Meekly
moved away, in Mr.
Clinton
's Coach and Six to the Church. The Family of the
Fieldings
then followed, in a Coach and Six, and two Chariots. Next went
Clement
and his
Arabella,
in their Post Chaise and Four. The Duke and Dutchess then succeeded, in a sumptuous Coach proudly drawn by Six
German
Greys, attended by a long Retinue of
French
Liveries, and the Dutchess's Women in a Coach and Four. Last advanced the Princess's four faithful
Moors,
mounted on fiery Coursers, and All glistering in
Barbaric
Gems and Adornments. And last of all came our Hero and his
AbenaidÃ¨,
enthroned in her open Chariot, as two Pearls of the Orient in a Case of burnished Gold; her six spotted
Arabians,
restraining their Impatience, beat Measures with their Feet, scarce seeming to advance the Pace of a Tortoise. Never will any Sight so glorious be exhibited, till the heavenly
Jerusalem
shall descend upon Earth.
Harry
's
Jack
closed the Rear, mounted on his Lord's rhone Charger, who stepped foaming behind the Chariot; and the long Cavalcade nearly reached from the great Hotel to the Entrance of the Town.
The Crowd, however, extended wide and far beyond the Cavalcade. They bowed respectfully and payed Obeysance to Mr.
Clinton,
the Duke,
&c.
as they passed; but as soon as they got a Glimpse of the Chariot of their young
Phaeton,
their Acclamations became unremitted and almost insufferable to the Ear, like the Shouts of a
Persian
Army at the rising of the Sun.
Slowly as our
Harry
moved, the Multitude strove to retard him, by throwing themselves in his Way, that they might satiate their Eyes and Souls with the Fullness of Beauty. Bended Knees and lifted Hands, Prayers, Blessings, and Exclamations were heard, and seen on all Sides; and, all the Way as they went, Thousands, upon Tens of Thousands, shouted forth the Hymeneal of the celestial Pair!

