The adventures of Roderick Random. In two volumes. / By T. Smollett, M.D. ; [One line in Latin from Horace] ; Vol. I[-II].

THE ADVENTURES OF RODERICK RANDOM.

CHAP. I.

We depart for Europe—a misunderstanding arises between the captain and surgeon through the scandalous aspersions of Crampley—the captain dies—Crampley tyrannises over the surgeon, who falls a victim to his cruelty—I am also ill-used—the ship strikes—the behaviour of Crampley and the seamen on that occasion—I get on shore, challenge the captain to single combat—am treacherously knocked down, wounded, and robbed.

NOW that I could return to my native country in a creditable way, I felt excessive pleasure in find|ing myself out of sight of that fatal island, which has been the grave of so many Europeans; and, as I was accommodated with every thing to render the passage agreeable, I resolved to enjoy myself as much as the inso|lence of Crampley would permit. This insidious slanderer had found means already to cause a misunderstanding be|tween the surgeon and captain, who by his age and infir|mities was rendered intolerably peevish, his disposition having also been soured by a long course of disappoint|ments, and had a particular aversion to all young men, especially to surgeons, whom he considered as unnecessary animals on board of a ship. In consequence of these senti|ments, he never consulted the doctor, notwithstanding his

being seized with a violent fit of the gout and gravel, but applied to a cask of Holland gin, which was his sovereign prescription against all distempers. But whether he was at this time too sparing, or took an over-dose of his cor|dial, certain it is, he departed in the night without any ceremony, (which indeed was a thing he always despised▪) and was found stiff next morning, to the no small satis|faction of Crampley, who succeeded to the command of the vessel. For that very reason Mr. Tomlins and I had no cause to rejoice at this event, fearing that the tyranny of our new commander would now be as unlimited as his power. The first day of his command justified our appre|hension; for▪ on pretence that the decks were too much crowded, he ordered the surgeon's hencoops, with all his fowls, to be thrown over-board, and at the same time pro|hibited him and me from appearing on the quarter-deck. Mr. Tomlins could not help complaining of these injuries, and in the course of his expostulation dropped some hasty words, of which Crampley taking hold, confined him to his cabin, where in a few days, for want of air, he was attacked by a fever, which soon put an end to his life, after having made his will, by which he bequeathed all his estate, personal and real, to his sister, and le•••• to me his watch and instruments as remembrances of his friendship. I was penetrated with grief on this melancholy occasion, the more because there was nobody on board to whom I could communicate my griefs, or of whom I could receive the least consolation or advice. Crampley was so far from discovering the least remorse for his barbarity, at the news of the surgeon's death, that he insulted his memory in the most abusive manner, and affirmed he had poisoned himself out of pure fear, dreading to be brought to a court-mar|tial for mutiny; for which reason he would not suffer the service of the dead to be read over his body before it was thrown over-board.

Nothing but a speedy deliverance could have supported me under the brutal sway of this bashaw, who, to render my life the more irksome, signified to my mess-mates a desire that I should be expelled from their society. This was no sooner hinted than they granted his request, and I was fain to eat in a solitary manner by myself during the rest of the passage, which, however, soon drew to a period.

We had been seven weeks at sea, when the gunner told the captain, that by his reckoning we must be in sound|ings, and desired he would order the lead to be heaved. Crampley swore he did not know how to keep the ship's way, for we were not within a hundred leagues of sound|ings, and therefore he would not give himself the trouble to cast the lead. Accordingly we continued our course all that afternoon and night, without shortening sail, though the gunner pe••ended to discover Scilly light, and next morning protested in form against the captain's conduct; for which he was put in confinement. We discovered no land all that day, and Crampley was still so infatuated as to neglect sounding: but at three o'clock in the morning the ship struck, and remained fast on a sand-bank. This accident alarmed the whole crew; the boat was immedi|ately hoisted out; but, as we could not discern which way the shore lay, we were obliged to wait for day-light▪ In the mean time the wind increased, and the waves beat against the sloop with such violence, that we expected she would have gone to pieces. The gunner was released and consulted: he advised the captain to cut away her mast, in order to lighten her; this was performed without success: the sailors, seeing things in a desperate situation, accord|ing to custom, broke up the chests belonging to the offi|cers, dressed themselves in their clothes, drank their liquors without ceremony; and drunkenness, tumult, and confu|sion ensued. In the midst of this uproar I went below to secure my own effects, and found the carpenter's mate hewing down the purser's cabin with his hatchet, whistling all the while with great composure. When I asked his intention in so doing, he replied very calmly,

I only want to taste the purser's rum; that's all, master.

—At that instant the purser, coming down, ••••d seeing his effects going to wreck, complained bitterly of the injustice done to him, and asked the fellow what occasion he had for liquor, when in all likelihood he would be in eternity in a few minutes?—"All's one for that," said the plun|derer; "let us live while we can."—

Miserable wretch that thou art!

cried the purser,

what must be thy lot in the other world, if thou diest in the commission of robbery?

—"Why hell, I suppose," replied the other with great deliberation; while the purser fell on his

knees, and begged of Heaven that we might not all perish for the sake of one Jonas. During this dialogue I clothed myself in my best apparel, girded on my hanger, stuck my pistols loaded in my belt, disposed of all my valuable moveables about my person, and came upon deck with a resolution of taking the first opportunity to get on shore, which, when the day broke, appeared at the distance of three miles a-head. Crampley, finding his efforts to g••t the ship off ineffectual, determined to consult his own safety by going into the boat, which he had no sooner done than the ship's company followed so fast, that she would have sunk along-side, had not some one wiser than the rest cut the rope, and put off. But, before this happened, I had made several attempts to get in, and was always baulked by the captain, who was so eager for excluding me, that he did not mind the endeavours of any other body. Enraged at this inhuman partiality, and seeing the rope cut, I pulled one of my pistols from my belt, and, cocking it, swore I would shoot any man who would pre|sume to obstruct my entrance. So saying, I leaped with my full exertion, and got on board the boat with the loss of the skin off one of my shins. I chanced in my descent to overturn Crampley, who no sooner got up than he struck at me several times with a cutlass, and ordered the men to throw me over-board; but they were too anxious about their own safety to mind what he said. Though the boat was very deeply loaded, and the sea terribly high, we made shift to get upon dry land in less than an hour after we parted from the sloop. As soon as I set foot on terra firma, my indignation which had boiled so long within me, broke out against Crampley, whom I immediately challenged to single combat, presenting my pistols that he might take his choice; he took one without hesitation, and, before I could cock the other, fired in my face, throwing the pistol after the shot. I felt myself stunned, and, imagining the bullet had entered my brain, dischar|ged mine as quick as possible, that I might not die unre|venged; then, flying upon my antagonist, I knocked out several of his fore-teeth with the but-end of the piece, and would certainly have made an end of him with that instrument, had he not disengaged himself, and seized his cutlass, which he had given to his servant when he received

the pistol. Seeing him armed in this manner, I drew my hanger, and having flung my pistol at his head, clo|sed with him in a transport of sury, and thrust my wea|pon into his mouth, which it enlarged on one side to his ear. Whether the smart of this wound disconcerted him, or the unevenness of the ground made him reel, I know not, but he staggered some paces back: I followed close, and with one stroke cut the tendons on the back of his hand, upon which his cutlass dropt, and he remained de|fenceless.—I know not with what cruelty my rage might have inspired me, if I had not at that instant been felled to the ground by a blow on the back part of my head, which deprived me of all sensation.—When I recovered the use of my understanding, I found myself alone in a desolate place, stript of my clothes, money, watch, buckles, and every thing but my shoes, stockings, breeches, and shirt.—What a discovery must this be to me, who, but an hour before, was worth sixty guineas in cash! I cursed the hour of my birth, the parents that gave me being, the sea that did not swallow me up, the poinard of the ene|my, which could not find the way to my heart, the villainy of those who had left me in that miserable condi|tion, and in the ectacy of despair, resolved to lie still where I was and perish.

CHAP. II.

I get up and crawl into a barn, where I am in danger of perishing through the fear of the country people—their in|humanity—I am succoured by a reputed witch—her story—her advice—she recommends me as a valet to a single lady, whose character she explains.

BUT as I lay ruminating, my passion insensibly aba|ted; I considered my situation in quite another light from that in which it appeared to me at first, and the re|sult of my deliberation was to get up if I could, and crawl to the next inhabited place for assistance.—With some difficulty I got upon my legs, and having examined my body, found I had received no other injury than two large contused wounds, one on the fore and another on the ••inder part of my head; which seemed to be occasion|ed

by the same weapon, namely, the but-end of a pistol. I looked towards the sea, but could discern no remains of the ship; which made me conclude she had gone to piec••••, and that those who remained in her had perished: but, as I afterwards learned, the gunner, who had more sagacity than Crampley, observing that it was flood when we left her, and that she would possibly float, at high-water, made no noise about getting on shore, but continued on deck, in hopes of bringing her safe into some harbour, after the commander had deserted her, for which he expected, no doubt, to be handsomely rewarded.—This he accordingly performed, and was promised great things by the admi|ralty for saving his majesty's ship; but I never heard he reaped the fruits of his expectation.—As for my own part, I directed my course towards a small cottage I per|ceived, and in the road picked up a seaman's old jacket, which I suppose the thief who dressed himself in my clothes had thrown away; this was a very comfortable acquisi|tion to me, who was almost stiff with cold: I therefore put it on, and as my natural heat revived, my wounds, which had left off bleeding, burst out afresh; so that finding myself excessively exhausted, I was about to lie down in the fields, when I discovered a barn to my left hand, within a few yards of me; thither I made shift to stagger, and finding the door open, went in, but saw no|body; upon which I threw myself upon a truss of straw, hoping to be soon relieved by some person or other.—I had not lain here many minutes, when I saw a country|man come in with a pitch-fork in his hand, which he was upon the point of thrusting into the straw that concealed me, and in all probability would have do••e my business, had I not uttered a dreadful groan, after having essayed in vain to speak.—This melancholy note alarmed the clown, who started back, and discovering a body all be|smeared with blood, stood trembling, with the pitch-fork extended before him, his hair erect, his eyes staring, his nostrils dilated, and his mouth wide open.—At another time I should have been much diverted with this figure, which preserved the same attitude very near a quarter of an hour, during which time I made many unsuccessful ef|forts to implore his compassion and assistance; but my tongue sailed me, and my language was only a repetition

of groans: at length an old man arrived, who seeing the other in such a posture, cried,

Mercy upon un! the lead's bewitch'd!—Why, Dick, beest thou besayd thyself?

—Dick, without moving his eyes from the object that terrified him, replied,

O vather! vather! here be either the devil or a dead mon: I doan't know which on'un but a groans woundily.

—The father, whose eye-sight was none of the best, pulled out his specta|cles, and having applied them to his nose, reconnoitred me over his son's shoulder; but no sooner did he behold me, than he was seized with a fit of shaking, even more violent than Dick's, and with a broken accent addressed me thus:

In the name of the Vather, Zun, and Holy Ghost, I charge you, an you been Satan, to be gone the Red Zea; but an you be a moordered mon, speak, that you may have Christom burial.

—As I was not in a condition to satisfy him in this particular, he repeated his conjuration to no purpose; and they conti|nued a good while in the agonies of fear.—At length the father proposed that the son should draw nearer, and take a more distinct view of the apparition: but Dick was of opinion that his fathe•• should advance first, as being an old man past his labour, and if he received any mischief, the loss would be the smaller; whereas he himself might escape, and be useful in his generation.—This prudential reason had no effect upon the senior, who still kept Dick between me and him.—In the mean time I endeavoured to raise one hand as a signal of distress, but had only strength sufficient to cause a rustling among the straw, which discomposed the young peasant so much, that he sprung out at the door, and overthrew his father in his flight.—The old gentleman would not spend time in get|ting up, but crawled backwards like a crab, with great speed, till he had got over the threshold, mumbling ex|orcisms all the way.—I was exceedingly mortified to find myself in danger of perishing through the ignorance and cowardice of these clowns; and felt my spirits decay apace, when an old woman entered the barn, followed by the two fugitives, and with great intrepidity advanced to the place where I lay, saying,

If it be the devil I fearen not, and for a dead mon, a can do us no harm.

—When she saw my condition, she cried,

Here be no de|vil,

but in youren fool's head.—Here be a poor miser|able wretch, bleeding to death, and if he dies, we must be at the charge of burying him; therefore, Dick, go and vetch the old wheel-barrow and puten in, and carry him to good-man Hodge's back-door, he is more, ••able than we to lay out money upon poor vagrants.

—Her advice was taken, and ••mmediately put in execu|tion. I was rolled to the other farmer's door, where I was tumbled out like a heap of dung, and would certainly have fallen a prey to the hogs, if my groans had not dis|turbed the family, and brought some of them out to view my situation.—But Hodge resembled the Jew more than the good Samaritan, and ordered me to be carried to the house of the parson, whose business it was to practise, as well as to preach charity; observing that it was sufficient for him to pay his quota towards the maintenance of the poor belonging to his own parish.—When I was set down at the vicar's gate, he fell into a mighty passion, and threatened to excommunicate him who sent as well as those who brought me, unless they would move me im|mediately to another place.—About this time I fainted with the fatigue I had undergone; and afterwards under|stood, that I was bandied about, from door to door, through a whole village, no body having humanity enough to administer the least relief to me, until an old woman, who was suspected of withcraft by the neighbourhood, hearing of my distress, received me into her house, and having dressed my wounds, brought me to myself with cordials of her own preparing.—I was treated with great care and tenderness by this grave matron, who, after I had recovered some strength, desired to know the parti|culars of my last disaster.—This piece of satisfaction I could not refuse to one who had saved my life, therefore I related all my adventures without exaggeration or re|serve. She seemed surprized at the vicissitudes I had un|dergone, and drew a happy presage of my future life from my past sufferings; then launched out into the praise of adversity with so much ardour and good sense, that I con|cluded she was a person who had seen better days, and conceived a longing desire to hear her story.—She per|ceived my drift by some words I dropped, and smiling, told me, there was nothing either entertaining or extra|ordinary

in the course of her fortune; but however, she would communicate it to me, in consideration of the con|fidence I had reposed in her.—

It is of little conse|quence,

said she,

to tell the names of my parents, who are dead many years ago: let it suffice to assure you that they were wealthy, and had no other child than me, so that I was looked upon as heiress to a con|siderable estate, and teized with addresses on that ac|count. Among the number of my admirers, there was a young gentleman of no fortune, whose sole depen|dence was on his promotion in the army, in which, at that time, he bore a lieutenant's commission—I con|ceived an affection for this amiable officer, which in a short time increased to a violent passion, and, without entering into minute circumstances, married him pri|vately.—We had not enjoyed one another long in stolen interviews, when he was ordered with his regiment to Flanders; but before he set out, it was agreed be|tween us, that he should declare our marriage to my father by letter, and implore his pardon for the step we had taken without his approbation.—This was done while I was abroad visiting, and just as I was about to return home, I received a letter from my father, im|porting, that since I had acted so undutifully and meanly, as to marry a beggar, without his privity or consent, to the disgrace of his family, as well as the disappointment of his hopes, he renounced me to the miserable fate I had entailed upon myself, and charged me never to set foot within his doors again.—This ri|gid sentence was confirmed by my mother, who, in a postscript, gave me to understand that her sentiments were exactly conformable to those of my father, and that I might save myself the trouble of making any applications, for her resolution was unalterable.—Thunder-struck with my evil fortune, I called a coach and drove to my husband's lodgings, where I found him waiting the event of his letter.—Though he could easily divine by my looks the issue of his declaration, he read with great steadiness the epistle I had received; and with a smile full of tenderness, which I shall never forget, embraced me, saying, I believe the good lady your mother might have spared herself the trouble of

the last part of her postscript.—Well, my dear Betty, you must lay aside all thoughts of a coach, till I can procure the command of a regiment.—This unconcern|ed behaviour, while it enabled me to support my re|verse of fortune, at the same time endeared him to me the more, by convincing me of his disinterested views in espousing me.—I was next day boarded in company with the wife of another officer, who had long been the friend and confident of my husband, at a village not far from London, where they parted from us in the most melting manner, went to Flanders, and were killed in sight of one another at the battle of the wood.—Why should I tire you with a description of our unutterable sorrow at the fatal news of this event, the remembrance of which now fills my aged eyes with tears? When our grief subsided a little, and reflection came to our aid, we found ourselves deserted by the whole world, and in danger of perishing for want: whereupon we made application for the pension, and were put upon the list. Then vowing eternal friendship, sold our jewels and su|perfluous clothes, retired to this place, (which is in the county of Sussex,) bought this little ••••••se, where we lived many years in a solitary manner, indulging our mutual sorrow, till it pleased heaven to call away my companion two years ago; since which time I have lingered out an unhappy being, in hopes of a speedy dissolution, when I promise myself the eternal reward of all my cares.—In the mean time,

con|tinued she,

I must inform you of the character I bear among my neighbours.—My conversation being differ|ent from that of the inhabitants of the village, my re|cluse way of life, my skill in curing distempers, which I acquired from books since I settled here, and lastly, my age, have made the common people look upon me as something preternatural, and I am actually at this hour believed to be a witch.

The parson of the parish, whose acquaintance I have not been at much pains to

cultivate, taking umbrage at my supposed disrespect, has contributed not a little towards the confirmation of this opinion, by dropping certain hints to my prejudice among the vulgar, who are also very much scandalized at my entertaining this poor tabby cat with the collar

about her neck, which was a favourite of my deceased companion.

The whole behaviour of this venerable person, was so primitive, innocent, sensible, and humane, that I con|tracted a filial respect for her, and begged her advice with regard to my future conduct, as soon as I was in a con|dition to act for myself.—She dissuaded me from a design I had formed of travelling to London in hopes of retriev|ing my clothes and pay, by returning to my ship, which by this time, I read in a news-paper, was safely arrived in the river Thames. "Because," said she,

you run the hazard of being treated not only as a deserter in quitting the sloop, but also as a mutineer in assaulting your commanding officer, to the malice of whose re|venge you will be moreover exposed.

—She then pro|mised to recommend me as a servant to a single lady of her acquaintance, who lived in the neighbourhood, with her nephew, who was a young fox-hunter of great fortune, where I might be very happy, provided I could bear with the disposition and manners of my mistress, which was somewhat whimsical and particular.—But above all things she counselled me to conceal my story, the knowledge of which would effectually poison my entertainment: for it was a maxim among most people of condition, that no gentleman in distress ought to be admitted into a family, as a domestic, lest he become proud, lazy, and insolent.—I was fain to embrace this humble proposal, because my affairs were desperate; and in a few days was hired by this lady, to serve in quality of her footman; being re|presented by my hostess, as a young man, who, having been sent to sea by his relations against his inclination, was shipwrecked and robbed, which had increased his disgust to that way of life so much, that he rather chose to go to service on shore than enter himself on board of any other ship.—Be••ore I took possession of my new place, she gave me a sketch of my mistress's character, that I might know better how to regulate my conduct. "Your lady," said she,

is a maiden of forty years, not so remarkable for her beauty as her learning and taste, which is famous all over the country.—Indeed she is a perfect female virtuosi, and so eager after the pursuit of knowledge, that she neglects her person even

to a degree of sluttishness: this negligence, together with her contempt for the male part of the creation, gives her nephew no great concern, as by these means he will probably keep her fortune, which is consider|able, in the family. He therefore permits her to live in her own way, which is something extraordinary, and gratifies her in all her whimsical desires.—Her apartment is at some distance from the other inhabited parts of the house; and consists of a dining-room, bed|chamber and study: she keeps a cook-maid, waiting-woman, and footman of her own, and seldom eats or converses with any of the family, but her neice, who is a very lovely creature, and humours her aunt often to the prejudice of her own health, by sitting up with her whole nights together; for your mistress is too much of a philosopher to be swayed by the customs of the world, and never sleeps or eats as other people do.—Among other odd notions, she professes the principles of Rosicrucius, and believes the earth, air, and sea are inhabited by invisible beings, with whom it is possible for the human species to entertain correspondence and intimacy, on the easy condition of living chaste.—As she hopes one day to be admitted into the acquaintance of this kind, she no sooner heard of me and my cat, than she paid me a visit, with a view, as she has since owned, to be introduced to my familiar; and was greatly mortified to find herself disappointed in her ex|pectation. Being, by this visionary turn of mind, ab|stracted as it were from the world, she cannot advert to the common occurrences of life; and therefore is frequently so absent as to commit very strange mistakes and extravagances, which you will do well to rectify and repair, as your prudence shall suggest.

CHAP. III.

My reception by that lady—I become enamoured of Narcissa—recount the particulars of my last misfortune—acquire the good opinion of my mistress—an account of the young squire—I am made acquainted with more particulars of Narcissa's situation—conceive a mortal hatred against Sir Timothy—I examine my lady's library and performances—her extra|vagant behaviour.

FRAUGHT with these useful instructions, I repaired to the place of her habitation, and was introduced by the waiting-woman to the presence of my lady, who had not before seen me.—She fat in her study, with one foot upon the ground, and the other upon a high stool at some distance from her seat; her sandy locks hung down in a disorder I cannot call beautiful, from her ••ead, which was deprived of its coif for the benefit of scratching with one hand, while she held the stump of a pen in the other.—Her fore-head was high and wrinkled, her eyes large, grey and prominent; her nose long, sharp and aquiline; her mouth of vast capacity; her visage meagre and frec|kled, and her chin peaked like a shoemaker's paring knife: her upper lip contained a large quantity of plain Spanish, which, by continual falling, had embroidered her neck, that was not naturally very white, and the breast of her gown, that flowed loose about her with a negligence tru|ly poetic, discovering linen that was very fine, and to all appearance never washed but in Castalian streams.—Around her lay heaps of books, globes, quadrants, telescopes, and other learned apparatus: her snuff-box stood at her right hand, at her left lay her handkerchief sufficiently used, and a convenience to spit in, appeared on one side of her chair.—Being in a reverie when we entered, the maid did not think proper to disturb her; so that we waited some minutes unobserved, during which time she bit the quill several times, altered her position, made ma|ny wry faces, and at length, with an air of triumph, re|peated aloud,

"Nor dare th' immortal gods my rage oppose!"

Having committed her success to paper, she turned to|wards

the door, and perceiving us, cried,

What's the matter?

"Here's the young man," replied my con|ductress,

whom Mrs. Sagely recommended as a footman to your ladyship.

On this information she stared in my face a considerable time, and then asked my name, which I thought proper to conceal under that of John Brown.—After having surveyed me with a curious eye, she broke out into,

O! ay, thou wast shipwrecked, I remember—Whether didst thou come on shore on the back of a whale or dolphin?

To this I answered, I had swam ashore without any assistance.—Then she de|manded to know if I had ever been to the Hellespont, and swam from Sestos to Abydos? I replied in the nega|tive: upon which she bid the maid order a suit of new li|very for me, and instruct me in the articles of my duty; so saying she spit in her snuff-box and wiped her nose with her cap which lay on the table, instead of a hand|kerchief.—We returned to the kitchen, where I was re|galed by the maids, who seemed to outvie with one ano|ther, in expressing their regard for me.—From them I understood, that my business consisted in cleaning knives and forks, laying the cloth, waiting at table, ••••rrying messages, and attending my lady when she went abroad. There being a very good suit of livery in the house, which had belonged to my predecessor, deceased, I dressed myself in it, and found it fit me exactly, so that there was no occasion for employing a tailor on that account.—I had not been long equipped in this manner, when my lady's bell rung; upon which I ran up stairs, and found her stalking about the room in her shift and under-petti|coat only; I would have immediately retired, as became me, but she bid me come in, and air a clean shift for her; which having done with some backwardness, she put it on before me without any ceremony, and I verily believe was ignorant of my sex all the time, being quite absorbed in contemplation.—About four o'clock in the afternoon, I was ordered to lay the cloth and place two covers, which I understood was for my mistress and her niece, whom I had not as yet seen.—Though I was not very dextrous at this operation, I performed it pretty well for a beginner▪ and when dinner was upon the table, saw my mistress ap|proach, accompanied by the young lady, whose name for

the present shall be Narcissa—So much sweetness appear|ed in the countenance and carriage of this amiable appa|rition, that my heart was captivated at first ••ight, and while dinner lasted I gazed upon her without intermission.—Her age seemed to be seventeen, her stature tall, her shape unexceptionable; her hai••, that fell down upon her ivory neck in ringlets, black as jet; her arched eye-brows of the same colour; her eyes piercing, yet tender; her lips of the consistence and hue of cherries; her complex|ion clear, delicate, and healthy; her aspect noble, in|genuous and humane; and the whole so ravishingly de|lightful, that it was impossible for any creature, endued with sensibility, to see without admiring, and admire without loving her to excess! How often did I curse the servile station, that placed me so infinitely beneath the regard of this idol of my admiration! and how often did I bless my fate, that enabled me to enjoy daily the sight of so much perfection! When she spoke, I listened with▪ pleasure; but when she spoke to me, my soul was thril|led with an ecstasy of tumultuous joy! I was even so hap|py as to be the subject of their conversation: for Nar••••••••a having observed me, said to her aunt,

I see your now footman is come.

Then addressing herself to me, ask|ed with ineffable complacency, if I was the person who had been so cruelly used by robbers? When I had satis|fied her in this, she expressed a desire of knowing the par|ticulars of my fortune both before and since my being shipwrecked: hereupon (as Mrs. Sagely had counselled me) I told her, that I had been bound 'prentice to the master of a ship, contrary to my inclination, which ship had foundered at sea; and I and four more; who chan|ced to be on deck when she went down, made shift to swim to the shore, where my companions, after having overpowered me, stript me to the shirt, and left me, as they imagined, dead of the wounds I received in my own defence: then I related the circumstances of my being found in a barn, with the inhuman treatment I met with from the country people and parson; which I perceived drew tears from the charming creature's eyes! When I had finished my recital, my mistress said,

Ma foy! le gar••on est bien fait!

To which opinion Narcissa

assented, with a compliment to my inderstanding in the same language, that flattered my vanity extremely.

The conversation, among other subjects, turned upon the young 'squire, whom my lady enquired after under the title of the Savage; and was informed by her niece, that he was still in bed, repairing the fatigue of last night's debauch, and recruiting strength and spirits to undergo a sox-chase to-morrow morning, in company with Sir Ti|mothy Thicket, 'Squire Bumper, and a great many other gentlemen of the same stamp, whom he had invited on that occasion; so that by day-break the whole house would be in an uproar.—This was a very disagreeable piece of news to the virtuoso, who protested she would stuff her ears with cotton when she went to bed, and take a dose of opium to make her sleep the more sound, that she might not be disturbed and distracted by the clamour of the brutes.

When their dinner was over, I and my fellow-servants sat down to ours in the kitchen, where I understood that Sir Timothy Thicket was a wealthy knight in the neigh|bourhood, between whom and Narcissa a match had been projected by her brother, who proposed at the same time to espouse Sir Timothy's sister, by which means, as their fortunes were pretty equal, the young ladies would be provided for and their brothers be never the poorer; but the ladies did not concur in the scheme, each of them en|tertaining a hearty contempt for the person allotted to her for a husband by this agreement. This information begat in me a mortal aversion to Sir Timothy, whom I looked upon as my rival, and cursed in my heart for his presumption. Next morning by day-break, being awakened by the noise of the hunters and hounds, I got up to view the cavalcade, and had a sight of my competitor, whose accomplishments (the estate excluded) did not seem bril|liant enough to give me much uneasiness with respect to Narcissa, who, I flattered myself, was not to be won by such qualifications as he was master of, either as to person or mind. My mistress, notwithstanding her precaution, was so much disturbed by her nephew's company, that she did not rise till five o'clock in the afternoon: so that I had an opportunity of examining her study at leisure, to which I was strongly prompted by my curiosity. Here I

sound a thousand scraps of her own poetry, consisting of three, four, ten, twelve, and twenty lines, on an infinity of subjects, which, as whim inspired, she had begun, with|out constancy or capacity to bring to any degree of com|position: but, what was very extraordinary in a female poet, there was not the least mention made of love in any of her performances. I counted fragments of five tragedies, the titles of which were,

The stern Philosopher—The double Murder—The sacrilegious Traitor—The Fall of Lucifer—and the Last Day

—From whence I gather|ed, that her disposition was gloomy, and her imagination delighted with objects of horror. Her library was com|posed of the best English historians, poets, and philoso|phers, of all the French critics and poets, and of a few books in Italian, chiefly poetry, at the head of which were Tasso and Ariosto, pretty much used—besides these, translations of the classics into French, but not one book in Greek or Latin; a circumstance that discovered her ignorance of these languages. After having taken a full view of this collection I retired, and at the usual time was preparing to lay the cloth, when I was told by the maid, that her mistress was still in bed, and had been so affected with the notes of the hounds in the morning, that she ac|tually believed herself a hare beset with the hunters, and begged a few greens to munch for her breakfast. When I testified my surprise at this unaccountable imagination, she let me know that her lady was very much subject to whims of this nature, sometimes fancying herself an ani|mal, sometimes a piece of furniture, during which conceit|ed transformations it was very dangerous to come near her, especially when she represented a beast; for that lately, in the character of a cat, she had flown at her, and scratched h••r face in a terrible manner—that some months ago she prophesied a general conflagration was at hand, and no|thing would be able to quench it but her water, which, therefore, she kept so long that her life was in danger, and she must needs have died of the retention, had they not found an expedient to make her evacuate, by kindling a bonfire under her chamber-window, and persuaded her that the house was in flames; upon which, with great de|liberation, she bid them bring all the tubs and vessels they could find, to be filled for the preservation of the house,.

into one of which she immediately discharged the cause of her distemper. I was also informed, that nothing contri|buted so much to the recovery of her reason as music, which was also administered on those occasions by Narcissa, who played perfectly well on the harpsichord, and to whom she (the maid) was just then going to intimate her aunt's disorder. She was no sooner gone than I was summoned by the bell to my lady's chamber, where I found her sit|ting squat on her hams on the floor, in the manner of puss when she listens to the cries of her pursuers. When I ap|peared, she started up with an alarmed look, and sprung to the other side of the room to avoid me, whom, without doubt, she mistook for a beagle thirsting after her life.—Perceiving her extreme confusion, I retired, and on the stair-case met the adorable Narcissa coming up, to whom I imparted the situation of my mistress: she said not a word, but, smiling with unspeakable grace, went into her aunt's apartment, and in a little time my ears were ravish|ed with the effects of her skill. She accompanied the in|strument with a voice so sweet and melodious, that I did not wonder at the surprising change it produced on the spirits of my mistress, which were soon composed to peace and sober reflection.

About seven o'clock the hunters arrived with the skins of two foxes and one badger, carried before them as tro|phies of their success; and when they were about to sit down to dinner, (or supper,) Sir Timothy Thicket desi|red, that Narcissa would honour the table with her pre|sence: but this, notwithstanding her brother's threats and entreaties, she refused, on pretence of attending on her aunt who was indisposed; so that I enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing my rival mortified: but this disappointment made no great impression on him, who consoled himself with the bottle, of which the whole company become so much ena|moured, that after a most horrid uproar of laughing, singing, swearing, dancing, and fighting, they were all carried to bed in a state of utter oblivion. My duty being altogether detached from the squire and his family, I led a pretty easy and comfortable life, drinking daily intoxi|cating draughts of love from the charms of Narcissa, which brightened on my contemplation, every day, more and more. Inglorious as my station was, I became blind to

my own unworthiness, and even conceived hopes of one day enjoying this amiable creature, whose affability greatly encouraged these presumptuous thoughts.

CHAP. IV.

She is surprised at my learning—communicates her perform|ances to me—I impart some of mine to her—am mortified at her faint praise—Narcissa approves of my production—I gain an involuntary conquest over the cook-wench and dairy-maid—their mutual resentment and insinuations—the jealousy of their lovers.

DURING this season of love and tranquillity, my muse which had lain dormant so long, awoke, and pro|duced several small performances on the subject of my flame: but, as it concerned me nearly to remain undisco|vered in my real character and sentiments, I was under a necessity of mortifying my desire of praise, by confining my works to my own perusal and applause. In the mean time I strove to insinuate myself into the good opinion of both ladies, and succeeded so well by my diligence and dutiful behaviour, that in a little time I was at least a fa|vourite servant, and frequently enjoyed the pleasure of hearing myself mentioned in French and Italian with some degree of warmth and surprize, by the dearest object of all my wishes, as a person who had so much of the gentleman in my appearance and discourse, that she could not for her soul treat me like a common lacquey. My prudence and modesty were not long proof against these bewitching com|pliments. One day, while I waited at dinner, the con|versation turned upon a knotty passage of Tasso's Gieru|salem, which it seems had puzzled them both. After a great many unsatisfactory conjectures, my mistress, taking the book out of her pocket, turned to the place in questi|on, and read the sentence over and over without success; at length, despairing of finding the author's meaning, she turned to me, saying,

Come hither, Bruno; let us see what fortune will do for us: I will interpret to thee what goes before and what follows in this obscure pa|ragraph, the particular words of which I will also ex|plain, that thou may'st, by comparing one with the

other, guess the sense of that which perplexes us.

I was too vain to let slip this opportunity of displaying my talents▪ therefore, without hesitation, read and explained the whole of that which had disconcerted them, to the ut|ter astonishment of both. Narcissa's face and lovely neck were overspread with blushes, from which I drew a favour|able omen, while her aunt, after having stared at me a good while with a look of amazement, exclaimed,

In the name of Heaven, who art thou?

—I told her I had picked up a smattering of Italian during a voyage up the Straits. At this she shook her head, and observed, that no smatterer could read as I had done. She then de|sired to know if I understood French, to which I answered in the affirmative: she asked if I was acquainted with the Latin and Greek; I replied, "A little."—"O ho!" continued she,

and with philosophy and mathematics, I suppose?

—I owned I knew something of each—whereupon she repeated her stare and interrogation. I be|gan to repent my vanity, and, in order to repair the fault I had committed, said, it was not to be wondered at if I had a tolerable education, because learning was so cheap in my country, that every peasant was a scholar; but I hoped her ladyship would think my understanding no ex|ception to my character. She was pleased ••o answer,

No, no, God forbid.

But, during the rest of the time they sat at table, they behaved with remarkable reserve.

This alteration ga•••• me much uneasiness, and I passed the night without sleep, in melancholy reflections on the vanity of young men, which prompts them to commit so many foolish actions, contrary to their own ••ober judg|ment. Next day, however, instead of profiting by this self-condemnation, I yielded still more to the dictates of the principle I had endeavoured to chastise, and, if fortune had not be••riended me more than prudence could expect, I should have been treated with the contempt I deserved. After breakfast, my lady, who was a true author, bid me follow her into the study, where she expressed herself thus:

Since you are so learned, you cannot be void of taste; therefore I am to desire your opinion of a small per|formance in poetry, which I lately composed. You must know I have planned a tragedy, the subject of which shall be the murder of a prince before the altar,

where he is busy at his devotions. After the deed is perpetrated, the regicide will harangue the people, with the bloody dagger in his hand, and I have already com|posed a speech, which I think will suit the character extremely—Here it is.

Then, taking up a scrap of paper, she read, with violent emphasis and gesture, as fol|lows:

Thus have I sent the simple king to hell, Without or coffin, shroud, or passing-bell: To me, what are divine and human laws? I court no sanction but my own applause! Rapes, robb'ries, treason, yield my soul delight! And human carnage gratifies my sight. I drag the parent by the hoary hair, And toss the sprawling infant on my spear, While the fond mother's cries regale mine ear. I fight, I vanquish, murder friends and foes; Nor dare th' immortal gods my rage oppose.

Though I did great violence to my understanding in praising this unnatural rhapsody, I nevertheless extolled it as a production that of itself deserved immortal fame, and besought her ladyship to bless the world with the fruits of those uncommon talents Heaven had bestowed upon her. She smiled with a look of self-complacency, and, encou|raged by the incense I had offered, communicated all her poetical works, which I applauded one by one with as lit|tle candour as I had shewn at first. Satiated with my flat|tery, which I hope my situation justified, she could not in conscience refuse me an opportunity of shining in my turn; and therefore, after a compliment to my nice discernment and taste, observed, that doubtless I must have produced something in that way myself, which she desired to see. This was a temptation I could by no means resist. I owned that, while I was at college, I wrote some small detached pieces at the desire of a friend who was in love, and, at her request, repeated the following verses, which indeed my love for Narcissa had inspired.

On Celia playing on the harpsichord, and singing.

I.

When Sappho struck the quiv'ring wire, The throbbing breast was all on fire; And, when she rais'd the vocal lay, The captive soul was charm'd away!

II.

But had the nymph, possess'd with these, Thy softer, chaster pow'r to please; Thy beauteo••s air of sprightly youth; Thy native smiles of artless truth;

III.

The worm of grief had never prey'd On the forsaken love-sick maid, Nor had she mourn'd an hapless flame, Nor dash'd on rocks her tender frame.

My mistress made me a cold compliment on the versifi|cation, which, she said, was elegant enough, but the sub|ject beneath the pen of a true poet. I was extremely net|tled at her indifference, and looked at Narcissa, who by this time had joined us, for her approbation, but she de|clined giving her opinion, protesting she was no judge of these matters: so that I was forced to retire, very much baulked in my expectation, which was generally a little too sanguine. If the afternoon, however, the waiting|maid assured me, that Narcissa had expressed her approba|tion of my performance with great warmth, and desired her to procure a copy of it, as for herself, that she (Nar|cissa) might have an opportunity to peruse it at leisure. I was elated to an extravagant pitch with this intelligence, and immediately transcribed a sair copy of my ode, which was carried to the dear charmer, together with another on the same subject, as follows:

I.

Thy fatal shafts unerring move; I bow before thine altar, Love! I feel thy soft, resistless flame Glide swift thro' all my vital frame!

II.

For, while I gaze, my bosom glows, My blood in tides impetuous flows, Hope, fear, and joy, alternate roll, And floods of transport 'whelm my soul!

III.

My fault'ring tongue attempts in vain, In soothing murmurs to complain; My tongue some secret magic ties; My murmurs sink in broken sighs!

IV.

Condemn'd to nurse eternal care, And ever drop the silent tear, Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh, Unfriended live, unpitied die!

Whether or not Narcissa discovered my passion, I could not learn from her behaviour, which, though always be|nevolent to me, was henceforth more reserved, and less chearful. While my thoughts aspired to a sphere so far above me, I had unwittingly made a conquest of the cook|wench and the dairy-maid, who became ••o jealous of one another, that, if their sentiments had been refined by edu|cation, it is probable one or other of them would have had recourse to poison or steel, to be revenged of her ri|val; but, as their minds were happily adapted to their humble station, their mutual enmity was confined to scold|ing and fifty cuffs, in which exercise they were both well-skilled. My good fortune did not long remain a secret, being disclosed by the f••••quent broils of these heroines, who kept no decorum in their encounters. The coachman and gardener, who paid their devoirs to my admirers, each to his respective choice, alarmed at my success, laid their heads together, in order to concert a plan of revenge; and the former having been educated at the academy of Tottenham—court, undertook to challenge me to single combat; he accordingly, with many opprobrious invec|tives, bid me defiance, and offered to box with me for twenty guineas. I told him, that, although I believed myself a match for him even at that work, I would not descend so far below the dignity of a gentleman as to

fight like a porter; but, if he had any thing to say to me, I was his man at blunderbuss, musket, pistol, sword, hatchet, spit, cleaver, fork, or needle—nay more, that if he gave his tongue any more saucy liberties at my ex|pence, I would crop his ears without any ceremony. This rodomontade, delivered with a stern countenance and re|solute tone, had the desired effect upon my antagonist, who with some confusion sneaked off, and gave his friend an account of his reception. The story taking air among the servants, procured for me the title of gentleman John, with which I was sometimes honoured even by my mistress and Narcissa, who had been informed of the whole affair by the chambermaid. In the mean time the rival queens expressed their passion by all the means in their power: the cook entertained me with choice bits, the dairy-maid with stroakings: the first would often encourage me to declare myself, by complimenting me upon my courage and learn|ing, observing, that, if she had a husband like me to maintain order, and keep accounts, she could make a great deal of money by setting up an eating-house at Lon|don for gentlemen's servants on board-wages: the other courted my affection by shewing her own importance, and telling me, that many a substantial farmer in the neigh|bourhood would be glad to marry her; but she was resol|ved to please her eye, if she should plague her heart—then she would launch out into the praise of my proper person, and say, she was sure I would make a good husband; for I was very good-natured. I began to be uneasy at the importunities of these inamoratoes, whom at another time perhaps I might have pleased, without the disagreeable sauce of matrimony; but at present my whole soul was engrossed by Narcissa, and I could not bear the thoughts of doing any thing derogatory of the passion I entertained for her.

CHAP. V.

Narcissa, being in danger from the brutality of Sir Timothy, is rescued by me, who revenge myself on my rival—I de|clare my passion, and retreat to the sea-side—I am sur|rounded by smugglers, and carried to Bologne—I find my uncle Lieutenant Bowling in great distress, and relieve him—our conversation.

AT certain intervals my ambition would revive; I would despise myself for my tame resignation to my sordid fate, and revolve an hundred schemes for assuming the cha|racter of a gentleman, to which I was entitled by birth and education. In these fruitless suggestions time stole away unperceived, and I had already remained eight months in the station of a footman, when an accident hap|pened that put an end to my servitude, and for the present banished all hopes of succ••eding in my love.

Narcissa went one day to visit Miss Thicket, who lived with her brother, within less than a mile of our house, and was persuaded to walk home in the cool of the even|ing, accompanied by Sir Timothy, who, having a good deal of the brute in him, was instigated to use some unbe|coming familiarities with her, encouraged by the solitariness of a field through which they passed. The lovely creature was incensed at his rude behaviour, for which she reproach|ed him in such a manner, that he lost all regard to decen|cy, and actually offered violence to this pattern of inno|cence and beauty. But Heaven would not suffer so much goodness to be violated, and sent me (who, passing by ac|cident near the place, was alarmed with her cries) to her su••cour.—What were the emotions of my soul, when I beheld Narcissa almost sinking beneath the brutal force of this satyr! I flew like lightning to her rescue, which he perceiving, quitted his prey, and drew his hanger to cha|stise my presumption. My indignation was too high to admit one thought of fear; so that, rushing upon him, I struck his weapon out of his hand, and used my cudgel so successfully, that he fell to the ground, and lay, to all ap|pearance, without sense. Then I turned to Narcissa, who had swooned; and, sitting down by her, gently raised her

head, and supported it on my bosom, while, with one hand around her waist, I kept her in that position. My soul was thrilled with tumultuous joy at feeling the object of my dearest wishes within my arms, and, while she lay insensible, I could not refrain from applying my cheek to her's, and ravishing a kiss: in a little time the blood be|gan to revisit her face, she opened her enchanting eyes, and, having recollected her late situation, said with a look full of tender acknowledgment,

Dear John, I am en|tirely obliged to you!

So saying, she made an effort to rise, in which I assisted her, and she proceeded to the house, leaning upon me all the way. I was a thousand times tempted by this opportunity to declare my passion, but the dread of disobliging her restrained my tongue. We had not got a hundred paces from the scene of her distress, when I perceived Sir Timothy get up and move homeward; a circumstance which, though it gave me some satisfaction, in as much as I thereby knew I had not killed him, filled me with just apprehension of his resentment, which I found myself in no condition to withstand, espe|cially when I considered his intimacy with our squire, to whom I knew he could easily justify himself for what he had done, by imputing it to his love, and desiring his brother Bruin to take the same liberty with his sister, with|ont any fear of offence. When we arrived at the house, Nar••issa assured me she would exert all her influence in protecting me from the revenge of Thicket, and likewise engage her aunt in my favour—a•• the same time pulling out her purse, offered it as a small consideration for the service I had done her; but I stood too much upon the punctilios of love to incur the least suspicion of being mercenary, and refused the present, saying. I had merited nothing by barely doing my duty. She seemed astonished at my disinterestedness, and blushed; I felt the same suf|fusion, and with a downcast eye, and broken accent, told her I had one request to make, which if her generosity would grant, I should think myself fully recompensed for an age of misery. She changed colour at this preamble, and with great confusion replied, she hoped my good sense would hinder me from asking any thing she was bound in honour to refuse, and therefore bid m•• signify my desire: upon which I kneeled, and begged to kiss her hand. She

immediately, and with an averted look, stretched it out; I imprinted on it an ardent kiss, and, bathing it with my tears, cried,

Dear Madam, I am an unfortunate gen|tleman who love you to distraction, but would have died a thousand deaths rather than make this declaration under such a servile appearance, were he not determined to yield to the rigour of his fate, to fly from your be|witching presence, and bury his presumptuous passion in eternal silence.

—With these words, I rose up and went away before she could recover spirits so far as to make any reply. My first care was to go and consult Mrs. Sage|ly, with whom I had maintained a friendly correspondence ever since I left her house. When she understood my situ|ation, the good woman with real concern condoled me on my unhappy fate, and approved of my resolution to leave the country, being perfectly well acquainted with the bar|barous disposition of my rival, "who by this time," said she,

has no doubt meditated a scheme of revenge. In|deed, I cannot see how you will be able to elude his vengeance; being himself in the commission, he will immediately grant warrants for apprehending you; and, as almost all the people of this country are dependent on him or his friend, it will be impossible for you to find shelter among them: if you should be apprehended, he will commit you to jail, where you may possibly lan|guish in great misery till the next assizes, and then be transported for assaulting a magistrate.

While she thus warned me of my danger, we heard a knocking at the door, which threw us both into great consternation, as in all probability it was occasioned by my pursuers; whereupon this generous old lady, putting two guineas into my hand, with tears in her eyes bid me, for God's sake, get out at the back-door, and consult my safety as Providence should direct me. There was no time for de|liberation.

I followed her advice, and escaped by the benefit of a dark night to the sea-side, where, while I ruminated on my next excursion, I was all of a sudden surrounded by armed men, who, having bound my hands and feet, bid me make no noise on pain of being shot, and carried me on board of a vessel, which I soon perceived to be a smug|gling cutter. This discovery gave me some satisfaction at

first, because I concluded myself safe from the resentment of Sir Timothy; but when I found myself in the hands of ruffians, who threatened to execute me for a spy, I would have thought myself happily quit for a year's imprison|ment, or even transportation. It was in vain for me to protest my innocence; I could not persuade them, that I had taken a solitary walk to their haunt, at such an hour, merely for my own amusement, and I did not think it my interest to disclose the true cause of my retreat, because I was afraid they would have made their peace with justice by surrendering me to the penalty of the law. What con|firmed their suspicion, was the appearance of a custom|house yacht, which gave them chace, and had well nigh made a prize of their vessel; when they were delivered from their fears by a thick fog, which effectually screened them, and favoured their arrival at Bologne. But, before they got out of sight of their pursuer, they held a coun|cil of war about me, whom some of the most ferocious among them would have thrown over-board as a traitor who had betrayed them to their enemies; but others, more considerate, alledged, that if they put me to death, and should afterwards be taken, they could expect no mercy from the legislature, which would never pardon outlawry aggravated by murder. It was therefore determined by a plurality of votes, that I should be set on shore in France, and left to find my passage back to England as I should think proper, which would be punishment sufficient for the bare suspicion of a crime in itself not capital. Although this favourable determination gave me great pleasure, the apprehension of being robbed would not suffer me to be perfectly at ease: to prevent this calamity, as soon as I was untied in consequence of the aforesaid decision, I tore a small hole in one of my stockings, into which I dropped ••ix guineas, reserving half a piece and some silver in my pocket, that, finding something, they might not be tempt|ed to make any farther inquiry. This was a very necessary precaution; sor, when we came in ••ight of the French shore, one of the smugglers told me I must pay for my passage. To this I replied, that my passage was none of my own seeking, therefore they could not expect a re|ward from me for transporting me into a strange country by force.—"Damme!" said the outlaw,

none of your

palaver; but let me see what money you have got.

So saying, he thrust his hand into my pocket without any ceremony, and emptied it of the contents; then casting an eye at my hat and wig, which captivated his fancy, he took them off, and, clapping his own on my head, de|clared that a fair exchange was no robbery. I was fain to put up with the bargain, which was by no means fa|vourable to me; and a little while after we went all on shore tog••••••••r.

I resolved to take my leave of these desperadoes with|out much ceremony, when one of them cautioned me against appearing to their prejudice, if ever I returned to England, unless I had a mind to be murdered, for which service, he assured me, the gang never wanted agents.—I promised to observe his advice, and departed for the Upper Town, whe••e I enquired for a carbaret or public house, into which I went with an intention of taking some refreshment. In the kitchen, five Dutch sailors sat at breakfast, with a large loaf, a firkin of butter, and a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of brandy on the table, the bung of which they often applied to their mouths with great perseverance and satis|faction. At some distance from them, I perceived ano|ther person in the same garb, sitting in a pensive, solita|ry manner, entertaining himself with a whiff of tobacco, from the stump of a pipe as black as jet. The appearance of distress never failed to attract my regard and compas|sion; I approached this forlorn tar, with a view to offer him my assistance, and notwithstanding the alteration of dress, and disguise of a long beard, I discovered in him my long lost and lamented uncle and benefactor, Liente|nant Bowling! Good Heaven! what were the agitations of my soul, between the joy of finding again such a valu|able friend, and the sorrow of seeing him in such a low condition! The tears gushed down my cheeks, I stood motionless and silent for some time; at length, recovering the use of speech, exclaimed,

Gracious God! Mr. Bowling!

—My uncle no sooner heard his name men|tioned, than he started up, crying, with some surprise, "Holloa?" and after having looked at me sted••astly, without being able to recollect me, said,

Did you call me, brother?

I told him I had something extraordi|nary to communicate, and desired him to give me a few

minutes hearing in another room; but he would by no means consent to this proposal, saying,

Avast there, friend; none of your tricks upon travellers; if you have any thing to say to me, do it above-board; you need not be afraid of being over-heard; here are none who understand our lingo.

—Though I was loth to discover myself before company, I could no longer re|frain from telling him, I was his own nephew Roderick Random. On this information, he considered me with great earnestness and astonishment, and recalling my fea|tures, which, though enlarged, were not entirely altered since he had seen me, came up and shook me by the hand very cordially, protesting he was glad to see me well. After some pause, he went on thus:

And yet, my lad, I am sorry to see you under such colours; the more so, as it is not in my power, at present, to change them for the better, times being very hard with me.

—With these words I could perceive a tear trickle down his furrowed cheeks, which affected me so much, that I wept bitterly.—Imagining my sorrow was the effect of my misfortunes, he comforted me, by observing that life was a voyage in which we must expect to meet with all weathers: sometimes it was calm, sometimes rough; that a fair gale often succeeded a storm: that the wind did not always sit one way, and that despair signified nothing: but resolution and skill were better than a stout vessel: for why? because they require no carpenter, and grow stronger the more labour they undergo. I dried up my tears, which I assured him were not shed for my own di|stress, but for his, and begged leave to accompany him into another room, where we could converse more at our ease.—There I recounted to him the ungenerous usage I had met with from Potion; at which he started up, stalk|ed across the room three or four times, in a great hurry, and grasping his cudgel, cried,

I would I were along-aside of him!—that's all.—I would I were along-side of him!

—I then gave him a detail of all my adven|tures and sufferings, which affected him more than I could have imagined; and concluded with telling him that Cap|tain Oakhum was still alive, and that he might return to England when he would, to solicit his affairs, without danger or molestation▪—He was wonderfully pleased at

this piece of information, of which, however, he said he could not at present avail himself, for want of money to pay for his passage to London. This objection I soon removed, by putting five guineas into his hand, and tel|ling him, I thought myself extremely happy in having an opportunity of manifesting my gratitude to him in his necessity.—But it was with the utmost difficulty I could prevail upon him to accept of two, which he affirmed, were more than sufficient to pay the necessary expence.—After this friendly contest was over, he proposed we should have a mess of something: "For," said he,

it has been banyan day with me a great while.—You must know I was shipwrecked five days ago, near a place called Lusieux, in company with those Dutchmen who are now drinking below; and having but little money when I came a-shore, it was soon spent, because I let them have share and share while it lasted.—Howsom|ever, I should have remembered the old saying, Every hog his own apple: for when they found my hold un|stowed they went all hands to shooling and begging; and because I would not take a spell at the same duty, refused to give me the least assistance; so that I have not broke bread these two days.

I was shocked at the ex|tremity of his distress, and ordered some bread, cheese, and wine to be brought immediately, to allay his hunger, until a fricassee of chickens could be prepared.—When he had recruited his spirits with this homely fare, I desired to know the particulars of his peregrination, since the acci|dent at Cape Tiberoon; which were briefly these: the money he had about him being all spent at Port Louis, the civility and hospitality of the French cooled to such a degree, that he was obliged to list on board of one of their king's ships, as a common foremastman, to prevent himself from starving on shore.—In this situation he continued two years, during which time he had acquired some knowledge of their language, and the reputation of a good seaman: the ship he belonged to was ordered home to Old France, where she was laid up as unfit for service, and he was re|ceived on board of one of Monsieur D'Antin's squadron, in quality of quarter-master; which office he performed in a voyage to the West-Indies, where they engaged with our ship, as before related; but his conscience upbraiding

him for serving the enemies of his country, he quitted the ship at the same place where he first listed, and got to Cura••oa in a Dutch vessel; there he bargained with ano|ther skipper, bound to Europe, to work for his passage to Holland, from whence he was in hopes of hearing from his friends in England; but was cast away, as he men|tioned before, on the French coast, and must have been reduced to the necessity of travelling on foot to Holland, and begging for his subsistence on the road, or of enter|ing on board of another French man of war, at the ha|zard of being treated as a deserter, if Providence had not sent me to his succour.—"And now, my lad," continued he,

I think I shall steer my course directly to London, where I do not doubt of being replaced, and of having the R taken off me by the lords of the admiralty, to whom I intend to write a petition setting forth my case. If I succeed I will have wherewithal to give you some assistance, because, when I left the ship, I had two years pay due to me; therefore I desire to know whither you are bound; and besides, perhaps I may have interest enough to procure a warrant appoint|ing you surgeon's mate of the ship to which I shall be|long.—For the beadle of the admiralty is my good friend; and he and one of the under-clerks are sworn brothers, and that under-clerk has a great deal to say with one of the upper-clerks, who is very well known to the under-secretary, who upon his recommendation, I hope, will recommend my affair to the first secretary; and he again will speak to one of the lords in my be|half: so that you see, I do not want friends to assist me on occasion.—As for the fellow Crampley, thof I know him not, I am sure he is neither seaman nor of|ficer by what you have told me, or else he could ne|ver be so much mistaken in his reckoning, as to run the ship on shore on the coast of Sussex, before he be|lieved himself in soundings; neither, when that acci|dent happened, would he have left the ship until she had been stove to pieces▪ especially when the tide was making; wherefore, by this time, I do suppose he has been tried by a court-martial, and executed for his cowardice and misconduct.

—I could not help smiling at the description of my uncle's ladder, by which he pro|posed

to climb to the attention of the board of admiralty; and though I knew the world too well, to confide in such dependence myself, I would not discourage him with doubts; but asked if he had no friend in London, who would advance a small sum of money to enable him to ap|pear as he ought, and make a small present to the under-secretary, who might possibly dispatch his business the sooner on that account.—He scratched his head, and af|ter some recollection replied,

Why, yes, I believe Da|niel Whipcord, the ship-chandler in Wapping, would not refuse me such a small matter—I know I can have what credit I would, for lodging, liquor, and clothes; but as to money, I won't be positive—Had honest Block been living, I should not have been at a loss.

—I was heartily sorry to find a worthy man so destitute of friends when he had such need of them; and looked upon my own situation as less miserable than his, because I was better acquainted with the selfishness and roguery of mankind; consequently less liable to disappointment and imposition.

CHAP. VI.

He takes his passage in a cutter for Deal—we are accosted by a priest, who prov••s to be a Scotchman—his professions of friendship—he is affronted by the lieutenant, who after|wards appeases him by submission—my uncle embarks—I am introduced by the priest to a capuchin, in whose com|pany I set out for Paris—the character of my fellow-tra|veller—an adventure on the road—I am shocked at his behaviour.

WHEN our repast was ended, we walked down to the harbour, where we found a cutter that was to sail for Deal in the evening, and Mr. Bowling agreed for his passage: in the mean time we sauntered about the town, to satisfy our curiosity, our conversation turning on the subject of my designs, which were not as yet fixed: neither can it be supposed, that my mind was at ••ase, when I sound myself reduced almost to extreme poverty, in the midst of foreigners, among whom I had not one acquaintance to advise or befriend me.—My uncle was

sensible of my ••orlorn condition, and pressed me to ac|company him to England, where he did not doubt of finding some sort of provision for me: but besides the other reasons I had for avoiding that kingdom, I looked upon it, at this time, as the worst country in the universe for a poor honest man to live in; and therefore determin|ed to remain in France, coute que coute.—I was confirmed in this resolution by a reverend priest, who, passing by at this time, and overhearing us speak English, accosted us in the same language, telling us he was our countryman, and wishing it might be in his power to do us any ser|vice: we thanked this grave person for his courteous of|fer, and invited him to drink a glass with us, which he did not think proper to refuse, and we went altogether into a tavern of his recommending. After having drank to our healths in a bumper of good Burgundy, he began to inquire into our situation, and asked particularly the place of our nativity, which we no sooner named, than he started up, and wringing our hands with great fervour, shed a flood 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tears, crying,

I came from the same part of the country! perhaps you are my own rela|tions.

—I was on my guard against his caresses, which I suspected very much, when I remembered the adven|ture of the money-dropper; but without any appearance of diffidence, observed, that as he was born in that part of the country, he must certainly know our families, which (howsoever mean our present appearance might be) were none of the most obscure and inconsiderable.—Then I discovered our names, to which I found he was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stranger; he had known my grandfather personally; and notwithstanding an absence of fifty years from Scotland, recounted so many particulars of the families in the neigh|bourhood, that my scruples were entirely removed, and I thought myself happy in his acquaintance.—In the course of our conversation, I disclosed my condition without re|serve, and displayed my talents to such advantage, that the old father looked upon me with admiration, and assur|ed me, that if I staid in France, and listened to reason, I could not fail of making my fortune, to which he would contribute all in his power.

My uncle began to be jealous of the priest's insi••uation, and very abruptly declared, that if ever I should renounce

my religion, he would break off all connection and cor|respondence with me▪ for it was his opinion, that no ho|nest man could swerve from the principles in which he was bred, whether Turk, Protestant, or Roman.—The father, affronted at this declaration, with great vehe|mence, began a long discourse, setting forth the danger of obstinacy, and shutting one's eyes against the light; he said, that ignorance would be no plea towards justifi|cation, when we had opportunities of being better in|formed; and that, if the minds of the people had not been open to conviction, the Christian religion would not have been propagated in the world; and we should now be in a state of Pagan darkness and barbarity: he endea|voured to prove, by some texts of scripture, and many quotations from the fathers, that the Pope was the suc|cessor of St. Peter, and vicar of Jesus Christ: that the church of Rome was the true, holy, Catholic church; and that the Protestant faith was an impious heresy, and damnable schism, by which many millions of souls would suffer everlasting perdition.—When he had finished his sermon, which I thought he pronounced with more zeal than discretion, he addressed himself to my uncle, and de|sired to know his objections to what had been said. The lieutenant, whose attention had been wholly engrossed by his own affairs, took the pipe out of his mouth, and re|plied,

As for me, friend, d'ye see, I have no objection to what you say, it may be either true or false, for what I know; I meddle with nobody's aff••irs but my own; the gunner to his linstock, and the steersman to his helm, as the saying is—I trust to no creed but the compass, and do unto every man as I would be done by; so that I defy the Pope, the Devil, and the Pre|tender; and hope to be saved as well as another.

—This association of persons gave great offence to the friar, who protested in a mighty passion, that if Mr. Bowling had not been his countryman, he would have caused him to be imprisoned for his insolence.—I ventured to disap|prove of my uncle's rashness, and appeased the old gen|tleman, by assuring him, there was no offence intended by my kinsman, who, by this time, sensible of his error, shook the injured party by the hand, and asked pardon for the freedom he had taken. Matters being amicably compro|mised,

he invited us to come and see him in the after|noon at the convent to which he belonged, and took his leave for the present; when my uncle recommended it strongly to me to persevere in the religion of my forefa|thers, whatever advantages I might propose to myself by a change, which could not fail of disgracing myself, and dishonouring my family.—I assured him, no consideration should induce me to forfeit his friendship and good opini|on, on that score; at which he discovered great satisfacti|on, and put me in mind of din••••r, which we immediately bespoke, and when it was ready eat together.

I imagined my acquaintance with the Scottish priest, if properly managed, might turn out to my advantage, and therefore resolved to cultivate it as much as I could. With this view we visited him at his convent, according to his invitation, where he treated us with wine and sweet|meats, and shewed us every thing that was remarkable in the monastery.—Having been thus entertained, we took our leave, though not before I had promised to see him next day; and the time fixed for my uncle's embarking being come, I accompanied him to the harbour, and saw him on board.—We parted not without tears, after we had embraced and wished one another all manner of pros|perity; and he intreated me to write to him often, di|recting to Lieutenant Thomas Bowling, at the sign of the union flag, near the Hermitage, London.

I returned to the house in which we had met, where I passed the night in a very solitary manner, reflecting on the severity of my fate, and endeavouring to project some likely scheme of life for the future; but my invention failed me. I saw nothing but unsurmountable difficulties in my way, and was ready to despair at the miserable prospect. That I might not, however, neglect any pro|bable means, I got up in the morning, and went directly to the father, whose advice and assistance I implored.—He received me very kindly, and gave me to understand, that there was one way of life in which a person of my talents could not fail of making a figure.—I guessed his meaning, and told him once for all, I was fully determin|ed against any alteration in point of religion, therefore if his proposal regarded the church, he might save himself the trouble of explaining it. He shook his head and sigh|ed,

saying,

Ah! son, son, what a glorious prospect is here spoiled by your stubborn prejudice! Suffer your|self to be persuaded by reason, and consult your tem|poral welfare, as well as the concerns of your immortal soul.—I can, by my interest, procure your admission as a noviciate into this convent, where I will superin|tend and direct you with a truly paternal affection.

—Then he launched out into the praises of a monastic life, which no noise disturbs, no cares molest, and no danger invades—where the heart is weaned from carnal attach|ments, the grosser appetites subdued and chastised, and the soul wafted to the divine regions of philosophy and truth, on the wings of studious contemplation—But his eloquence was lost upon me, whom two considerations enabled to withstand his temptations; namely, my pro|mise to my uncle, and my aversion to an ecclesiastical life; for, as to the difference of religion, I looked upon it as a thing of too small moment to come into competition with a man's fortune.—Finding me immoveable on this head▪ he told me, he was mor•• sorry than offended at my non|compliance, and still ready to employ his good offices in my behalf.—"The same erroneous maxims," said he,

that obstruct your promotion in the church, will infal|libly prevent your advance••ment in the army; but if you can brook the condition of a servant, I am ac|quainted with some people of rank at Versailles, to whom I can give you letters of recommendation, that you may be entertained by some one of them in quality of maitre de hotel; and I do not doubt that your quali|fications will soon entitle you to a better provision.

—I embraced his offer with great eagerness; and he ap|pointed me to come back in the afternoon, when he would not only give me the letters, but likewise introduce me to a capuchin of his acquaintance, who intended to set out for Paris next morning, in whose company I might tra|vel, without being at the expence of one livre during the whole journey. This piece of good news gave me infinite pleasure; I acknowledged my obligations to the benevo|lent father, in the most grateful expressions: and he per|formed his promise to a tittle, in delivering the letters, and making me acquainted with the capuchin, with whom I departed next morning by break of day.

It was not long before I discovered my fellow-traveller to be a merry facetious fellow, who notwithstanding his profession and appearance of mortification, loved good eating and drinking better than his rosary, and paid more adoration to a pretty girl than to the Virgin Mary, or St. Genevieve.—He was a thick brawny young man, with red eye-brows, a hook nose, a face covered with freckles▪ and his name was Fr••re Balthazar. His order did not permit him to wear linen, so that having little occasion to undress himself, he was none of the cleanliest animals i•• the world; and his constitution was naturally so strong scented, that I always thought it convenient to keep to the windward of him in our march—As he was perfectly well known on the road, we fared sumptuously without any cost, and the fatigue of our journey was much alle|viated by the good humour of my companion, who s••ng an infinite number of catches on the subject of love and wine.—We took up our lodgings the first night at a pea|sant's house, not far from Abbe Ville, where we were entertained with an excellent ragout, cooked by our land|lord's daughters, one of whom was very handsome. Af|ter having eaten heartily, and drank a sufficient quantity of ••••in du Pais, we were conducted to a barn where we sound a couple of carpets spread upon clean straw for our reception.—We had not lain in this situation above half an hour, when we heard somebody knock softly at the door, upon which Balthazar got up, and let in our host's ••wo daughters, who wanted to have some private conver|sation with him in the dark; when they had whispered together some time, the capuchin came to me, and asked if I was insensible to love, or so hard-hearted as to refuse a share of my bed to a pretty maid who had a tendresse for me.—I must own, to my shame, that I suffered myself to be overcome by my passion, and with great eagerness seized the occasion, when I understood that the amiable Nanette was to be my bed-fellow.—In vain did my reason suggest the respect I owed to my dear mistress N••r••issa; the idea of that lovely charmer rather increased than al|layed the ferment of my spirits; and the young Paisanne had no reason to complain of my remembrance.—Early in the morning the kind creatures left us to our repose, which lasted till eight o'clock, when we got up, and were

treated at breakfast with chocolate and l' eau de vie by our paramours, of whom we took a tender leave, after my companion had confessed and given them absolution.—While we proceeded on our journey, the conversation turned upon the night's adventure, being introduced by the capuchin, who asked me how I liked my lodgings: I declared my satisfaction and talked in rapture of the agreeable Nanette; at which he shook his head, and smiling, said, she was a morceau pour la bonne bouche.

I never valued myself,

continued he,

upon any thing so much as the conquest of Nanette; and, vanity apart, I have been pretty fortunate in my amours.

—This in|formation shocked me not a little, as I was well convinced of his intimacy with her sister; and though I did not care to tax him with downright incest, I professed my asto|nishment at his last night's choice, when I supposed the other was at his devotion.—To this hint he answered, that besides his natural complaisance to the sex, he had ano|ther reason to distribute his favours equally between them, namely, to preserve peace in the family, which could not otherwise be maintained;—that moreover Nanette had conceived an affection for me, and he loved her too well to baulk her inclination; more especially, when he had an opportunity of obliging his friend at the same time.—I thanked him for this instance of his friendship, though I was extremely disgusted at his want of delicacy▪ and cursed the occasion that threw me in his way.—Libertine as I was, I could not bear to see a man behave so wide of the character he assumed: I looked upon him as a person of very little worth or honesty, and should have even kept a wary eye upon my pocket, if I had thought he could have any temptation to steal.—But I could not con|ceive the use of money to a capuchin, who is obliged, by the rules of his order, to appear like a beggar, and en|joy all other necessaries of life gratis; besides, my fellow-traveller seemed to be of a complexion too careless and sanguine to give me any apprehension on that score; so▪ that I proceeded with great confidence, in expectation of being soon at my journey's end.

CHAP. VII.

We lodge at a house near Amiens, where I am robbed by the capuchin, who escapes while I am asleep—I go to Noyon•• in search of him, but without success—I make my condi|tion known to several people, but find no relief—grow desperate—join a company of soldiers—inlist in the regi|ment of P••cardy—we are ordered into Germany—I find▪ the fatigues of the march almost intolerable—quarrel with my comrade in a dispute upon politics—he challenges me to the field, wounds and disarms me.

THE third night of our pilgrim••ge, we passed at a house near Amiens, where, Balthazar being un|known, we supped upon indifferent fare, and sour wine, and were fain to lie in a garret upon an old matra••s, which, I believe, had been in the possession of ten thousand my|riads of fleas, time out of mind.—We did not invade their territory with impunity; in less than a minute we were attacked with stings innumerable, in spite of which, however, I fell fast asleep, being excessively fatigued with our day's march, and did not awake till nine next morn|ing, when seeing myself alone, I started up in a terrible fright, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my pockets, sound my pres••ging fear too true! My companion had made free with my cash, and left me to seek my way to Paris by myself! I ran down stairs immediately; and, with a look full of grief and amazement, enquired for the mendicant, who, they gave me to understand, had set out four hours be|fore, after having told them I was a little indisposed, and desired I might not be disturbed, but be informed when I should wake, he had taken the road to Noy••ns, where he would wait for my coming, at the Coq D'Or.—I spoke not a word, but with a heavy heart, directed my course to that place, at which I arrived in the afternoon, saint|ing with weariness and hunger; but learned, to my utter confusion, that no such person had been there▪—It was happy for me that I had a good deal of resentment in my constitution, which animated me on such occasions, against the villainy of mankind, and enabled me to bear misfor|tunes otherwise intolerable.—Boiling with indignation, I

discovered to the host my deplorable condition, and in|veighed with great bitterness against the treachery of Balthazar; at which he shrugged up his shoulders, and with a peculiar grimace on his countenance, said, he was sorry for my misfortune; but there was no remedy like patience.—At that instant some guests a••••ived, to whom he hastened to offer his service, leaving me mortified at his indifference, fully persuaded that an innkeeper is the same sordid animal all the world over.—While I stood in the porch, forlorn and undetermined, venting ejacula|tions▪ of curses against the thief who had robbed me, and the old priest who recommended him to my friendship; a young gentleman richly dressed, attended by a valet de cham|bre and two servants in livery, arrived at the inn. I thought I perceived a great deal of sweetness and good na|ture in his countenance; therefore he had no sooner alight|ed than I accosted him, and in a few words explained my situation: he listened with great politeness, and, when I had made an end of my story, said,

Well, monsieur, what would you have me do?

—I was effectually abash|ed at this interrogation, which I believed no man of com|mon sense or generosity could make, and made no other reply than a low bow: he returned the compliment still lower▪ and tripped into an apartment, while the landlord let me know, that my standing there to interrupt company gave offence, ••nd might do him infinite prejudice. He had no occasion to repeat his insinuation; I moved from the place immediately, and was so much transported with grief, anger, and disdain, that a torrent of blood gushed from my nostrils. In this extasy I quitted Noyons, and betook myself to the fields, where I wandered about like one distracted, till my spirits were quite exhausted▪ and I was obliged to throw myself down at the root of a tree to rest my wearied limbs. Here my rage forsook me; I be|gan to feel the importunate cravings of nature, and ••e|lapsed into silent sorrow and melancholy reflection: I re|volved all the crimes I had been guilty of, and found them so sew and venial, that I could not comprehend the justice of that Providence, which, after having exposed me to so much wretchedness and danger, left 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a prey to famine at last in a foreign country, where I had not one friend or acquaintance to close my eyes, and do the last office•• of

humanity to my miserable carcase. A thousand times I wished myself a bear, that I might retreat to woods and deserts, far from the inhospitable haunts of man, where I could live by my own talons, independent of treacherous friends and supercilious scorn.

As I lay in this manner, groaning over my hapless fate, I heard the sound of a violin, and, raising my head, per|ceived a company of men and women dancing on the grass at some distance from me. I looked upon this to be a fa|vourable season for distress to attract compassion, when every selfish thought is banished, and the heart dilated with mirth and social joy; wherefore I got up, and ap|proached those happy people, whom I soon discovered to be a party of soldiers, with their wives and children, unbend|ing and diverting themselves at this rate after the fatigue of a march. I had never before seen such a parcel of scare|crows together, neither could I reconcile their meagre gaunt looks, their squalid and ragged attire, and every other external symptom of extreme woe, with this appear|ance of festivity. I saluted them, however, and was re|ceived with great politeness: after which they formed a ring, and danced round me. This jollity had a wonderful effect upon my spirits▪ I was infected with their gaiety, and in spite of my dismal situation, forgot my cares, and joined in their extravagance. When we had recreated ourselves a good while at this diversion, the ladies spread their man|tuas on the ground, upon which they emptied their knap|sacks of some onions, coarse bread, and a few flasks of poor wine: being invited to a share of the banquet, I sat down with the rest, and in the whole course of my life never made a more comfortable meal. When our repast was end|ed, we got up again to dance; and, now that I found my|self refreshed, I behaved to the admiration of every body: I was lo••ded with a thousand compliments and professions of friendship; the men commended my person and agi|lity, and the women were loud in the praise of my bonne grace; the serjeant in particular expressed so much regard for me, and described the pleasures of a soldier's life with so much art, that I began to listen to his proposal of en••••sting me into the service; and the more I consider|ed my own condition, the more I was convinced of the necessity I was under of coming to a speedy determination.

Having therefore maturely weighed the circumstances pro and con, I signified my consent, and was admitted into the regiment of Picardy, said to be the oldest corps in Europe. The company, to which this command belonged, was quartered at a village not far off, whither we marched next day, and I was presented to my captain, who seemed very well pleased with my appearance, gave me a crown to drink, and ordered me to be accommodated with clothes, arms, and accoutrements: whereupon I sold my livery suit, purchased linen, and, as I was at great pains to learn the exercise, in a very short time became a complete soldier.

It was not long before we received orders to join several more regiments, and march with all expedition into Ger|many, in order to reinforce Mareschal Du•• de Noailles, who was then encamped with his army on the side of the river Main, to watch the motions of the English, Austrians and Hessians, under the command of the Earl of Stair. We began our march accordingly, and I then became acquaint|ed with that part of a soldier's life to which I had been hitherto a stranger. It is impossible to describe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hunger and thirst I sustained, and the fatigue I underwent in a march of so many hundred miles, during which I was so much chafed with the heat and motion of my limbs, that in a very short time the inside of my thighs and legs were deprived of skin, and I proceeded in the utmost ••orture. This misfortune I owed to the plumpness of my constitu|tion, which I cursed, and envied the withered conditions of my comrades, whose bodies could not spare juice enough to supply a common issue, and were indeed proof against all manner of friction. The continual pain I felt made me fretful, and my peevishness was increased by the mortifica|tion of my pride in seeing those miserable wretches, whom a hard gale of wind would have scattered through the air like chaff, bear those toils with alacrity under which I was ready to sink.

One day while we enjoyed a halt, and the soldiers with their wives had gone out to dance according to custom, my comrade staid at home with me on pretence of friend|ship, and insulted me with his pity and consolation! He told me, though I was young and tender at present, I would soon be seasoned to the service, and he did not doubt but I should have the honour to contribute in some

measure to the glory of the king.—

Have courage, there|fore, my child,

said he,

and pray to the good God, that you may be as happy as I am, who have had the honour of serving Lewis the Great, and of receiving many wounds in helping to establish his glory.

When I looked upon the contemptible object that pronounced these words, I was amazed at the infatuation that possessed him, and could not help expressing my astonishment at the absurdity of a rational being, who thinks himself highly honoured in being permitted to encounter abject poverty, oppression, famine, disease, mutilation, and evident death, merely to gratify the vicious ambition of a prince, by whom his sufferings were disregarded, and his name ut|terly unknown. I observed, that if his situation was the consequence of compulsion, as having been pressed into the service, I would praise his patience and fortitude in bear|ing his lot—if he had taken up arms in defence of his in|jured country, he was to be applauded for his patriotism—or if he had fled to this way of life as a refuge from a greater evil, he was justifiable in his own conscience, (though I could have no notion of misery more extreme than that he suffered;) but to put his condition on the footing of conducing to the glory of his prince, was no more than professing himself a desperate slave, who voluntarily underwent the utmost wretchedness and peril, and com|mitted the most flagrant crimes, to sooth the barbarous pride of a fellow-creature, his superior in nothing but the power he derived from the submission of such wretches as him. The soldier was very much affronted at the liberty I took with his king, which he said nothing but my igno|rance could excuse: he affirmed, that, the characters of princes were sacred, and ought not to be pro••aned by the censure of their subjects, who are bound by their allegiance to obey their commands, of what nature soever, without scruple or repining, and advised me to correct the rebel|lious principles I had imbibed among the English, who, for their insolence to their kings, were notorious all over the world even to a proverb:

Le roy d' Angleterre, Est le roy de l' Enfer.

In vindication of my countrymen I repeated all the ar|guments commonly used to prove, that every man has a

natural right to liberty, that allegiance and protection are reciprocal, that, when the mutual ties are broken by the tyranny of the king, he is accountable to the people for his breach of contract, and subject to the penalty of the law, and that those insurrections of the English, which are branded with the name of rebellion by the slaves of arbi|trary power, were no other than glorious efforts to rescue that independence, which was their birth-right, from the ravenous claws of usurping ambition. The Frenchman, provoked at the little deference I paid to the kingly name, lost all patience, and reproached me in such a manner, that my temper forsook me, and I clenched my fist, with an intention to give him an hearty box on the ear. Perceiving my design, he started back, and demanded a parley; upon which I checked my indignation, and he gave me to un|derstand, that a Frenchman never forgave a blow; there|fore, if I was not weary of my life, I would do well to spare him that mortification, and do him the honour of measuring his sword with mine like a gentleman. I took his advice, and followed him to a field hard by, where in|deed I was ashamed at the pitiful figure of my antagonist, who was a poor, little, shivering creature, decrepid with age, and blind of one eye. But I soon found the folly of judging from appearance, being at the second pass wound|ed in the sword-hand, and immediately disarmed with such a jerk, that I thought the joint was dislocated. I was no less confounded than enraged at this event, especially as my adversary did not bear his success with all the modera|tion that might have been expected; for he insisted upon my asking pardon for my affronting his king and him. This I would by no means comply with, but told him, it was a mean condescension, which no gentleman in his circum|stances ought to propose, and none in my situation per|form;—and, if he persisted in his ungenerous demand, I would in my turn claim satisfaction with my musket, at which weapon we should be more upon a par than with the sword, of which he seemed so much master.

CHAP. VIII.

The Gasco•• does not use his victory with all the moderation that might have been expected—in order to be revenged, I learn the science of defence—We join Maresch••l Du•• de Noailles—are engaged with the allies at Dettingen, and put to flight—the ••e••aviour of the French soldiers on that occasion—I industriously seek another combat with the old Gasco•• and vanquish him in my turn—our regiment is put into winter quarters at Phe••ms, where I find my friend Strap—our recognition—he supplies me with mo|ney, and procures my discharge—we take a trip to Paris, from whence we set out for London, by the way of Flan|ders, where we safely arrive.

HE was disconcerted a•• this declaration, to which he made no reply, but repaired to the dancers, among whom ••he recounted his victory with many exaggerations and gasconades, while I, taking up my sword, went to my quarters, and examined my wound, which I ••ound was of no consequence. The same day an Irish drummer, having heard my misfortune, visited me, and, after having condoled me on the chance of war, gave me to under|stand, that he was master of the sword, and would in a very short time instruct me so thoroughly in that noble science, that I should be able to chastise the old Gascon for his insolent boasting at my expence. This friendly office he proffered on pretence of the regard he had for his countrymen; but I afterwards learned, the true motive was no other than a jealousy he entertained of a corre|spondence between the Frenchman and his wife, which he did not think proper to resent in person. Be this as it will, I accepted his offer, and practised his lessons with such application, that I soon believed myself a match for my conqueror. In the mean time we continued our march, and arrived at the camp of Mareschal Noailles the night before the battle of Dettingen. Notwithstanding the sa|tigue we had undergone, our regiment was one of those that were ordered next day to cross the river under the command of the Due de Gra••ont, to take possession of a narrow defile, through which the allies must of necessity

have passed at a great disadvantage, or remain where they were, and perish for want of provision, if they would not condescend to surrender at discretion. How they suffered themselves to be pent up in this manner, it is not my pro|vince to relate; I shall only observe, that, when we had taken possession of our ground, I heard an old officer, in conversation with another, profess a surprise at the con|duct of Lord Stair, who had the reputation of a good general. But it seems, at this time, that nobleman was over-ruled, and only acted in an inferior character; so that no part of the blame could be imputed to him, who de|clared his disapprobation of the step, in consequence of which the whole army was in the utmost danger: but Pro|vidence or destiny acted miracles in their behalf, by dis|posing the Du•• de Gramont to quit his advantageous post, pass the defile, and attack the English, who were drawn up in order of battle on the plain, and who handled us so roughly, that, after having lost a great number of men, we turned our backs without ceremony, and fled with such precipitation, that many hundreds perished in the river through pure fear and confusion; for the enemy were so generous, that they did not pursue us one inch of ground; and, if our consternation would have permitted, we might have retreated with great order and deliberation. But not|withstanding the royal clemency of the king of Great-Bri|tain, who headed the allies in person, and, no doubt, put a stop to the carnage, our loss amounted to five thousand men, among whom were many officers of distinction. Our miscarriage opened a passage for the foe to Hanau, whi|ther they immediately marched, leaving their sick and wounded to the care of the French, who next day took possession of the field of battle, buried the dead, and treat|ed the living with humanity. This was a great consola|tion to us, who thence took occasion to claim the victory, and the genius of the French nation never appeared more conspicuous than now, in the rodomontades they uttered on the subject of their generosity and courage; every man, by his own account, performed feats that would have eclisped all the heroes of antiquity. One compared himself to a lion retiring at leisure from his cowardly pursuers, who keep at a wary distance, and galled him with their darts—Another likened himself to a bear that ••etreats with his face to the enemy, who dare not assail him—and a third

assumed the character of a desperate stag that turns upon the hounds, and keeps them at bay. There was not a pri|vate soldier engaged, who had not by the prowess of his single arm, demolished a whole platoon, or put a squadron of horse to flight; and, among others, the meagre Gascon extolled his exploits above those of Hercules or Charle|magne. As I still retained my resentment for the disgrace I suffered in my last rencontre with him, and, now that I thought myself qualified, I longed for an opportunity to retrieve my honour; I magnified the valour of the English with all the hyperboles I could imagine, and decried the pusillanimity of the French in the same style, comparing them to hares flying be••ore grey-hounds, or mice pursued by cats; and passed an ironical compliment on the speed he exerted in his flight, which, considering his age and infirmities, I said was surprizing. He was stung to the quick by this sarcasm, and, with an air of threatening dis|dain, bid me know myself better, and remember the cor|rection I had already received from him for my insolence; for he might not always be in the humour of sparing a wretch who abused his goodness. To this inuendo I made no reply but by a kick in the breech, which overturned him in an instant. He started up with wonderful agility, and, drawing his sword, attacked me with great fury: several people interposed; but, when he informed them of its being an affair of honour, they retired, and left us to decide the battle by ourselves. I sustained his onset with little damage, having only received a small scratch on my right shoulder, and, seeing his breath and vigour almost exhausted, assaulted him in my turn, closed with him, and wrested the sword out of his hand in the struggle. Having thus acquired the victory, I desired him to beg his life; to which demand he made no answer, but shrugged up his shoul|ders to his ears, expanded his hands, elevated the skin of his forehead and eye-brows, and depressed the corners of his mouth in such a manner, that I could scarce resrain from laughing aloud at his grotesque appearance. That I might, however, mortify his vanity, which had triumphed without bounds over my misfortune, I thrust his sword up to the hilt in something (it was not a tansy) that lay smoking on the plain, and joined the rest of the soldiers with an air of tranquillity and indifference.

There was nothing more of moment attempted by ei|ther of the armies during the remaining part of the cam|paign, which being ended, the English marched back to the Netherlands; part of our army was detached to French Flanders, and our regiment ordered into winter-quarters in Champaigne. It was the fate of the grenadier company, to which I now belonged, to lie at Rheims, where I found myself in the utmost want of every-thing. My pay, which amounted to five sols a-day, far from supplying me with necessaries, was scarce sufficient to procure a wretched subsistence to keep soul and body together; so that I was, by hunger and hard duty, brought down to the meagre condition of my fellow-soldiers, and my linen reduced from three tolerable shirts to two pair of sleeves and necks, the bodies having been long ago converted into spatterdashes; and after all I was better provided than any private man in the regiment▪ In this urgency of my affairs, I wrote to my uncle in England, though my hopes from that quar|ter were not at all sanguine for the reasons I have already explained, and in the mean time had recourse to my old remedy patience, consoling myself with the flattering sug|gestions of a lively imagination, that never abandoned me in my distress.

One day, while I stood centinel at the gate of a gene|ral-officer, a certain nobleman came to the door, followed by a gentleman in mourning, to whom at parting I heard him say, "You may depend upon my good offices." This assurance was answered by a low bow of the person in black, who, turning to go away, discovered to me the in|dividual countenance of my old friend and adherent Strap. I was so much astonished at the sight that I lost the power of utterance, and, before I could recollect my|self, he was gone without taking any notice of me. In|deed, had he staid, I scarcely should have ventured to accost him, because, though I was perfectly well acquainted with the features of his face, I could not be positively certain as to the rest of his person, which was very much altered for the better since he left me at London; neither could I conjecture by what means he was enabled to appear in the sphere of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 gentleman, to which, while I knew him, he had not eve•• the ambition ••o aspire. But I was too much concerned 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the affair to neglect farther information, and

therefore took the first opportunity of asking the porter if he knew the gentleman to whom the marquis spoke? The Swiss told me his name was Monsieur d'Estrapes, that he had been valet de chambre to an English gentle|man lately deceased, and that he was very much regarded by the marquis for his fidelity to his master, between whom and that nobleman a very intimate friendship had subsisted. Nothing could be more agreeable to me than this piece of intelligence, which banished all doubt of its being my friend, who had found means to Frenchi••y his name as well as his behaviour since we parted. As soon, therefore, as I was relieved, I went to his lodging accord|ing to a direction given me by the Swiss, and had the good fortune to find him at home. That I might surprise him the more, I concealed my name and business, and only desired the servant of the house to tell Monsieur d'Estrapes, that I begged the honour of half an hour's conversation with him. He was confounded and dismayed at this message, when he understood it was sent by a sol|dier, though he was conscious to himself of no crime: all that he had heard of the Bastile appeared to his imagina|tion with aggravated horror, and it was not before I had waited a considerable time, that he had resolution enough to bid the servant shew me up stairs. When I entered his chamber, he returned my bow with great civility, and en|deavoured by a forced complaisance to disguise his fear, which appeared in the paleness of his face, the wildness of his looks, and the shaking of his limbs. I was diverted at his consternation, which redoubled when I told him in French, I had business for his private ear, and demanded a particular audience. The valet being withdrawn, I asked in the same language, if his name was d'Estrapes? To which he answered with a ••aui••••ring tongue,

The same, at your service.

—"Are you a Frenchman?" said I. "I have not the honour of being a Frenchman born," replied he,

but I have an infinite veneration for the country.

I then desired he would do me the honour to look at me, which he no sooner did, than, struck with my appearance, he started back, and cried in English, "O Jesus! sure it can't!—No, 'tis impossible!"—I smiled at his interjections, saying,

I suppose you are too much of a gentleman to own your friend in adver|sity.

When he, heard me pronounce these words in our own language, he leaped upon me in a transport of joy, hung about my neck, kissed me from e•••• to ear, and blubbered like a great school-boy who had been whipped. Then, observing my dress, he set up his throa•• crying,

O L—d! O L—d! that ever I should live t•• see my dearest friend reduced to the condition of a foot soldier in the French service! Why did you consent to my leaving you?—But I knew the reason—you thought you had got more creditable friends, and grew ashamed of my acquaintance—Ah! Lord help us! though I was a little short-sighted, I was not altogether blind—and, though I did not complain, I was not the less sensible of your unkindness, which was indeed the only thing that induced me to ramble abroad, the Lord knows whither; but I must own it has been a lucky ramble for me, and so I forgive you, and may God forgive you.—O L—d! O L—d! is it come to this?

—I was nettled at the charge, which, though just, I could not help thinking unseasonable, and told him with some tartness, that, whether his suspicions were ill or well grounded, he might have chosen a more convenient opportunity of in|troducing them, and that the question now was, whether or no he found himself disposed to lend me any assistance.—"Disposed!" replied he with great emotion;

I thought you had known me so well as to assure yourself, without asking, that I and all that belongs to me are at your command. In the mean time you shall dine with me, and I will tell you something that perhaps will not be displeasing to you.

—Then, wringing my hand, he said, "It makes my heart bleed to see you in that garb!" I thanked him for his invitation, which, I observed, could not be unwelcome to a person who had not eaten a com|fortable meal these seven months; but I had another re|quest to make, which I begged he would grant before dinner, and that was the loan of a shirt—for, although my back had been many weeks a stranger to any comfort of that kind, my skin was not yet quite ••amiliarised to the want of it. He stared in my face, with a woful counte|nance, at this declaration, which he could scarce believe, until I explained it by unbuttoning my coat, and disclo|sing my naked body; a circumstance that shocked the

〈◊〉〈◊〉 Strap, who with tears in his e••es ran to a chest of drawers, and, taking out some linen, presented to me a very fine ruffled holland shirt, and cambric neck-cloth, assuring me he had three dozen of the same kind at my service. I was ravished at this piece of good news, and, having accommodated myself in a moment, hugged my benefactor for his generous offer, saying I was overjoyed to find him undebanched by prosperity, which seldom fails of corrupting the heart. He bespoke for dinner some soup and bouille, a couple of pullets roasted, and a dish of aspa|ragus, and in the interim entertained me with biscuit and Burgundy; after which repast, he entreated me to gratify his longing desire of knowing every circumstance of my for|tune since his departure from London. This I complied with, beginning at the adventure of Gawky, and relating every particular event in which I had been concerned from that day to the present hour. During the recital, my friend was strongly affected, according to the various situations described; he started with surprise, glowed with indigna|tion, gaped with curiosity, smiled with pleasure, trembled with fear, and wept with sorrow, as the vicissitudes of my life inspired these different passions; and, when my story was ended, signified his amazement on the whole by lift|ing up his eyes and hands, and protesting, that, though I was a young man, I had suffered more than all the blessed martyrs.

After dinner I desired, in my turn, to know the parti|culars of his p••••••grination, and he satisfied me in a few words, by giving me to understand, that he had lived a year at Paris with his master, who, in that time having acquired the language, and well as the fashionable exercises, to perfection, made the tour of France and Holland, during which excursion he was so unfortunate as to meet with three of his own countrymen on their travels, in whose company he committed such excesses, that his con|stitution failed, and he fell into a consumption; that, by the advice of physicians, he went to Montpelier for the benefit of good air, and recovered so well in six weeks, that he returned to Rheims seemingly in good health, where he had not continued above a month, when he was ••eized with a looseness that carried him off in ten days, to the unspeakable sorrow of all who knew him, and espe|cially

of Strap, who had been very happy in his service, and given such satisfaction, that his master on his death|bed recommended him to several persons of distinction for his diligence, sobriety, and affection, and left him by will his wearing apparel, gold-watch, sword, rings, ready money, and all the moveables he had in France, to the value of three hundred pounds, "which I now," said he,

in the sight of God and man, surrender to your absolute disposal: here are my keys; take them, I beseech you, and God give you joy of the possession.

My brain was almost turned with this sudden change of fortune, which I could scarce believe real; however, I positively refused this extravagant proffer of my friend, and put him in mind of my being a soldier; at which he started, crying,

Odso! that's true—We must procure your discharge—I have some interest with a nobleman who is able to do me that favour.

We consulted about this affair, and it was determined, that Monsieur d'Estrapes should wait upon the marquis in the morning, and tell him he had by accident found his brother, whom he had not seen for many years before, a private soldier in the regiment of Picardy, and implore that nobleman's interest for his dis|charge. In the mean time we enjoyed ourselves over a bottle of good Burgundy, and spent the evening in con|certing schemes for our future conduct, in case I should be so lucky as to get rid of the army. The business was to make ourselves easy for life by means of his legacy, a task very difficult, and, in the usual methods of laying out money, altogether impracticable; so that, after much canvassing, we could come to no resolution that night, but, when we parted, recommended the matter to the se|rious attention of each other. As for my own part, I puz|zled my imagination to no purpose; when I thought of turning merchant, the smallness of our stock, and the risk of seas, enemies, and markets, deterred me from that scheme. If I should settle as a surgeon in my own coun|try, I would find the business already overstocked, or, if I pretended to set up in England, must labour under want of friends, and powerful opposition, obstacles unsurmount|able by the most shining merit; neither should I succeed in my endeavours to rise in the state, inasmuch as I could neither flatter nor pimp for courtiers, nor prostitute my

pen in defence of a wicked and contemptible administra|tion. Before I could form any feasible project, I fell asleep, and my fancy was blessed with the image of my dear Narcissa, who seemed to smile upon my passion, and offer her hand as a reward for all my toils.

Early in the morning, I went to the lodgings of my friend, whom I found exulting over his happy invention; for I no sooner entered his apartment, than he addressed me in these words, with a smile of self applause:

Well, Mr. Random, a lucky thought may come into a fool's head sometimes—I have hit it—I'll hold you a button my plan is better than yours, for all your learning.—But you shall have the preference in this as in all other things; therefore proceed, and let us know the effects of your meditation—and then I will impart my own sim|ple excogitations.

—I told him, that not one thought occurred to me which deserved the least notice, and signi|fied my impatience to be acquainted with the fruits of his reflection.—"As we have not," said he,

money suffici|ent to maintain us during a tedious expectation, it is my opinion, that a bold push must be made, and I see none so likely to succeed as your appearing in the cha|racter of a gentleman, which is your due, and making your addresses to some lady of fortune who can render you independent at once—Nay, don't stare—I affirm that this scheme is both prudent and honourable; for I would not have you throw yourself away upon an old toothless, wheezing dame, whose breath would stink you into a consumption in less than three months; neither would I advise you to assume the character of a wealthy squire, as your common fortune-hunters do, by which means many a poor lady is cheated into ma|trimony, and instead of enjoying the pomp and gran|deur that was promised, sees her dowry seized by her husband's rapacious creditors, and herself reduced to misery and despair.—No, I know you have a soul that disdains such imposition; and are master of qualifica|tions both of mind and body, which alone entitle you to a match that will set you above the world.—I have clothes in my possession, that a duke need not be asham|ed to wear.—I believe they will fit you as they are, if not, there are plenty of taylors in France.—Let us

take a short trip to Paris, and provide ourselves with all other necessaries, then set out for England, where I intend to do myself the honour of attending you in quality of a valet.—This will save you the expence of a servant, shaving and dressing; and I doubt not but, by the blessing of God, we shall bring matters to a speedy and fortunate issue.

—Extravagant as this proposal was, I listened to it with pleasure, because it flattered my vanity, and indulged a ridiculous hope I began to enter|tain of inspiring Narcissa with a mutual flame.

After breakfast, Monsieur d'Estrapes went to pay his devoirs to the Marquis, and was so successful in his ap|plication, that I obtained a discharge in a few days, upon which we set out for Paris.—Here I had time to reflect and congratulate myself upon this sudden transition of fate, which, to bear with moderation, required some de|gree of philosophy and self-denial.—This will be more ob|vious, if I give a detail of the particulars, to the quiet possession of which I was raised in an instant, from the most abject misery and contempt.—My wardrobe consist|ed of five fashionable coats, full mounted; two of which were plain, one of cut velvet, one trimmed with gold, and another with silver lace; two frocks, one a white drab with large plate buttons, and the other of blue, with gold binding; one waistcoat of gold brocade; one of blue satin embroidered with silver; one of green silk, trimmed with broad figured gold lace; one of black silk with fring|es; one of white satin; one of black cloth, and one of scarlet; six pair of cloth ••reeches; one pair of crim|son, and another of black velvet; twelve pair of white silk stockings, as many of black silk, and the same num|ber of fine cotton; one hat, laced with gold point d' Es|pagne, another with silver lace scolloped, a third with gold binding, and a fourth plain; three dozen of fine ruffled shirts; as many neckcloths; one dozen of cambric hand|kerchiefs, and the like number of silk. The other move|ables which I possessed by the generosity and friendship of Strap, were, a gold watch with a chased case, two va|luable diamond rings, two mourning swords, one with a silver handle, and a fourth cut steel inlaid with gold; a diamond stock-buckle, and a set of stone buckles for the knees and shoes; a pair of silver-mounted pistols with

rich housings, a gold-headed cane, and a snuff-box of tortoise-shell mounted with gold, having the picture of a lady in the lid.—The gentleman had left many other things of value, which my friend had converted into cash before I met with him, so that over and above these particulars, our stock in ready money amounted to something more than two hundred pounds.

Thus equipt, I put on the gentleman of figure, and attended by my honest friend, who was contented with the station of my valet, visited the Louvre, examined the gallery of Luxemburgh, and appeared at Versailles, where I had the honor of seeing his Most Christian Majesty eat a considerable quantity of olives.—During the month I spent at Paris, I went several times to court, the Italian opera, and play-house, danced at the masquerade, and, in short, saw every thing remarkable in and about the capi|tal.—After which we set out for England by the way of Flanders, passed through Brussels, Ghent, and Bruges, and took shipping at Ostend, from whence in fourteen hours we arrived at Deal, hired a post-chaise, and in twelve hours more got safe to London; having disposed of our heavy baggage in the waggon.

CHAP. IX.

I inquire for my uncle, and understand he is gone to sea—take lodgings at Charing-cross—go to the play, where I meet with an adventure—dine at an ordinary; the guests described—become acquainted with Medlar and Doctor Wagtail.

AS soon as we alighted at the inn, I dispatched Strap to enquire for my uncle, at the Union Flag in Wapping; and he returned in a little time with an ac|count of Mr. Bowling's having gone to sea, mate of a merchant ship, after a long and unsuccessful application and attendance at the admiralty; where it seems the in|terest he depended upon, was not sufficient to reinstate him, or recover the pay that was due to him when he quitted the Thunder.

Next day I hired very handsome lodgings not far from Charing-cross; and in the evening dressed myself in a

plain suit of the true Paris cut, and appeared in a front box at the play, where I saw a good deal of company, and was vain enough to believe that I was observed with an uncommon degree of attention and applause. This silly conceit intoxicated me so much, that I was guilty of a thousand ridiculous coquetries, and I dare say, how favourable soever the thoughts of the company might be at my first appearance, they were soon changed by my absurd behaviour into pity or contempt.—I rose up and sat down, covered and uncovered my head twenty times between the acts; pulled out my watch, clapped it to my ear, wound it up, set it, gave it the hearing again; displayed my snuff-box, affected to take snuff, that I might have an opportunity of shewing my brilliant, and wiped my nose with a perfumed handkerchief;—then dangled my cane, and adjusted my sword-k••ot, and acted many more fooleries of the same kind, in hopes of attain|ing the character of a pretty fellow, in the acquiring of which, I found two considerable obstructions in my dis|position; namely, a natural reserve, and jealous sensibili|ty.—Fain would I have entered into conversation with the people around me; but was restrained by the fear of being censured for my assurance, as well as by reflecting that I was more entitled to a compliment of this kind from them, than they to such condescension from a stranger like me.—How often did I redden at the frequent whispers and loud laughter of my fellow beaux, which I imagined were excited by me! and how often did I envy the happy indifference of those choice spirits who beheld the distress of the scene, without discovering the least symptom of approbation or concern! My attention was engaged in spite of myself, and I could not help weeping with the heroine of the stage; though I practised a great many shifts to conceal this piece of impolite weakness.—When the play was ended, I ••at waiting for an opportunity of handing some lady to her coach; but every one was at|tended by such a number of officious gallants, that for a long time I was baulked in my expectation.—At length▪ however, I perceived a very handsome creature, genteely dressed, sitting by herself in a box, at some distance from me; upon which I went up to her, and offered my service.—She seemed to be in some confusion, thanked me for

my complaisance, and with a tender look declined giving me the trouble; looking at her watch, and testifying her surprise at the negligence of her footman, whom she had ordered to have a chair ready for her at that hour.—I re|peated my intreaty with all the eloquence and compliment I was master of; and in the event, she was prevailed upon to accept of a proposal I made to send my servant for a chair or coach. Accordingly▪ Strap was detached for that purpose, and returned without success, there being none to be found; by this time the play-house was quite empty, and we were obliged to retire: as I led her through the passage, I observed five or six young fellows of fashion, standing in a corner, one of whom, as I thought, tipt my charmer the wink, and when we were past, I heard them set up a loud laugh.—This aroused my at|tention, and I was resolved to be fully satisfied of this la|dy's character before I should have any nearer connection with her.—As no convenience appeared, I proposed, that I should conduct her to a tavern, where we might stay a few minutes, till my servant could fetch a coach from the Strand.—She seemed particularly shy of trusting her|self in a tavern with a stranger; but at last yielded to my pathetic r••monstrances, rather than endanger her health, by remaining in a cold damp thorough-fare.—Having thus far succeeded, I begged to know what wine she would be pleased to drink a glass of; but she professed the great|est aversion to all sorts of strong liquors; and it was with much difficulty that I could persuade her to eat a jelly.—In the mean time, I endeavoured to alleviate the uneasi|ness she discovered, by saying all the agreeable things I could think of; at which she would often sigh, and regard me with a languishing look, that seemed, however, too near a kin to the lewd leer of a courtezan.—This discovery ad|ded to my former suspicion, while it put me upon my guard against her arts, divested me of reserve, and ena|bled me to entertain her with gaiety and freedom. In the course of our conversation I pressed her ••o allow me the honour of waiting upon her next day at her lodgings, which she, with many apologies, refused, lest it should give umbrage to Sir John, who was of a disposition apt to be fretted with trifles. This information, by which I was to understand that her husband was a knight, did not

check my addresses, which became more and more impor|tunate, and I was even hardy enough to ravish a kiss.—But, O heavens! instead of banqueting on the ambrosial flavour that her delicacy and complexion promised, I was almost suffocated with the steams of Geneva! An exhala|tion of this kind from a mouth which had just before de|clared an utter abhorrence of all spirituous liquors, not on|ly changed my doubts into certainty, but my raptures into loathing; and it would have been impossible for me to have preserved common complaisance five minutes longer, when my servant returned with a coach.—I took the advantage of this occasion, and presented my hand to the lady, who put in practice against me the whole artillery of her charms, ogling, languishing, sighing, and squeezing, with so lit|tle reserve, that Strap perceived her tenderness, and rub|bed his hands with joy as he followed us to the door;—but I was proof against all her endearments, and handed her into the coach with an intention to take my leave im|mediately. She guessed my design, and invited me to her house, whispering, that now Sir John was gone to bed, she could have the pleasure of my conversation for half an hour without interruption.—I told her there was no mortification I would not undergo, rather than endan|ger the repose of her ladyship; and bidding the coach|man drive on, wished her a good night. She lost all tem|per at my indifference, and stopping the coach at the di|stance of about twenty yards from me, popped out her head, and bawled with the lungs of a fish-woman,

D—n you, you dog, won't you pay the coach hire?

I made no answer: upon which she held forth against me with an eloquence peculiar to herself; calling me pitiful fellow, scoundrel, and an hundred such appellations; and con|cluding with an oath, that for all my appearance, she be|lieved I had got no money in my pocket.

Having thus vented her indignation, she ordered the coachman to proceed, and I returned to the tavern, where I bespoke something for supper, very well pleased at the issue of this adventure.—I dispensed with the attendance of the waiter at table, on pretence that my own servant was present, and when we were alone, said to Strap;

Well, Monsieur d'Estrapes, what d'ye think of this la|dy?

My friend, who had not opened his mouth since

her departure, could make no other answer than the mono|syllable, "Think!" which he pronounced with a note of fear and astonishment.—Surprised at this emphasis, I surveyed my valet, and, perceiving a wildness in his looks, asked if he had seen his grandfather's ghost?—"Ghost!" said he,

I am sure I have seen a devil incarnate! Who would have thought that so much devilish malice and Billingsgate, could lurk under such sweetness of coun|tenance and modesty of behaviour? Ah! God help us! Fronti nulla fides—nimium ne credi colori—but we ought to down on our knees and bless God for delivering us from the jaws of that painted sepulchre.

—I was pretty much of Strap's opinion, and though I did not believe my|self in any danger from the allurements of that sisterhood, I determined to act with great circumspection for the future, and shun all commerce of that kind, as equally prejudicial to my purse and constitution.

My next care was to introduce myself into a set of good acquaintance; for which purpose I frequented a certain coffee-house, noted for the resort of good company, Eng|lish as well as foreigners, where my appearance procured all the civilities and advances I could desire. There be|ing an ordinary in the same house, I went up stairs to dinner with the other guests, and found myself at table with thirteen people, the greatest part of whom were better dressed than myself.—The conversation, which was mostly carried on in French, turned chiefly on politics; and I soon found the whole company was in the French interest, myself excepted, and a testy old gentleman, who contradicted every thing that was advanced in favour of his most Christian Majesty, with a surliness truly English.—But this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 patriot, who had never been out of his own country, and drew all his maxims and notions from prejudice and hearsay, was very unequal to his antago|nists, who were superior to him in learning and experi|ence, and often took the liberty of travellers, in asserting things which were not strictly true, because they thought themselves in no danger of being detected by him.—The claim of the queen of Spain to the Austrian dominions in Italy, was fully explained and vindicated, by a person who sat opposite to me, and by the solemnity of his man|ner, and the richness of his apparel, seemed to be a fo|reign

ambassador.—This dissertation introduced another on the Pragmatic Sanction, handled with great warmth, by a young gentleman at my right hand, dressed in a green frock trimmed with gold, who justified the French king for his breach of that contract; and affirmed, that he could not have observed it, without injuring his own glory.—Although I was not at all convinced by this gen|tleman's arguments, I could not help admiring his viva|city, which I imagined must be the effect of his illustri|ous birth, and noble education, and accordingly rated him in my conjecture as a young prince on his travels.—The discourse was afterwards shifted by an old gentleman of a very martial appearance, to the last campaign, when the battle of Dettingen was fought over again, with so many circumstances to the honor of the French, and dis|advantage of the allies, that I began to entertain some doubts of my having been there in person; and took the liberty to mention some objections to what he advanced.

This freedom introduced a dispute which lasted a good while, to the mortification of all present; and was at last re|ferred to the determination of a grave person, whom they stiled doctor, and who, under a shew of great moderation, de|cided it against me, with so little regard to truth, that I taxed him with partiality in pretty severe terms, to the no small entertainment of the true English politician, who rejoiced at my defence of a cause he had so often espous|ed without success: my opponent, pleased with the vic|tory he had gained, affected a great deal of candour, and told me he should not have been so positive, if he had not been at great pains to inform himself of each particular.—"Indeed," said he,

I am convinced, that the pre|vious steps considered, things could not happen other|wise; for we generals who have seen service, though we may not be on the spot ourselves, know by the least sketch of the disposition, what must be the event.

—He then censured with great freedom, every circumstance of the conduct of those who commanded the allies; from thence made a transition to the ministry, which he ho|noured with many invectives, for employing people who had neither experience nor capacity, to the prejudice of old officers who had been distinguished for both; dropt many hints of his own importance; and concluded with

observing, that the French and Spaniards know better how to value generals of merit; the good effects of which are seen in the conquests they gain, and the admirable discipline of their troops, which are at the same time bet|ter clothed and paid than any soldiers in the universe. These remarks furnished the green knight with an oppor|tunity of launching out into the praise of the French govern|ment in general, civil as well as military; on which occa|sion he made many odious comparisons to the disadvan|tage of the English. Every body almost assented to the observations he made, and the doctor gave his sanction, by saying, the people of France were undoubtedly the happiest subjects in the world.—I was so much asto|nished and confounded at their infatuation and effrontery, that I had not power to utter one word in opposition to their assertions; but my morose associate could not put up with the indignity that was offered to old England, and therefore with a satirical grin addressed himself to the general in these words:

Sir, Sir, I have often heard it said, She's a villainous bird that befouls her own nest.—As for what those people, who are foreigners, say, I don't mind it, they know no better; but you who were bred and born, and have got your bread under the English government, should have more regard to gratitude as well as truth, in censuring your native country.—If the ministry have thought fit to lay you aside, I suppose they have their own reasons for so do|ing; and you ought to remember that you still live on the bounty of th•• nation.—As for these gentlemen, (meaning the prince and ambassador,) who make so free with our constitution, laws and genius of our peo|ple, I think they might shew a little more respect for their benefactors, who, I must own, are to blame in harbouring, protecting and encouraging such ungrateful vagrants as they are.

—At these words the chevalier in green started up in a great passion, and laying his hand on the hilt of his hanger, exclaimed, "Ha! foutre!"—The Englishman, on the other hand, grasping his cane, cried,

Don't foutre me, sirrah, or by G—d I'll knock you down.

—The company interposed, the Frenchman sat down again, and his antagonist proceeded.—

Lookee, Monsieur, you know very well that had you dared to

speak so freely of the administration of your own coun|try in Paris, as you have done of ours in London, you would have been sent to the Bastile without ceremony, where you might have rotted in a dungeon, and never seen the light of the sun again.—Now, Sir, take my word for it, although our constitution screens us from such oppression, we want not laws to chastise the authors of seditious discourse; and if I hear another syllable out of your mouth, in contempt or prejudice of this king|dom, I will give you a convincing proof of what I ad|vance, and have you laid by the heels for your pre|sumption.

—This declaration had an effect on the company, as sudden as surprising.—The young prince be|came as supple as a spaniel, the ambassador trembled, the general sat silent and abashed, and the doctor, who, it seems, had felt the rod of power, grew pale as death, and assured us all, that he had no intention to affront any per|son or people.—

Your principles, doctor, (resumed the old gentleman,) are no secret—I have nothing to say upon that head; but am very much surprised that a man who despises us so much, should notwithstanding live among us when he has no visible motive for so doing.—Why don't you take up your habitation in your beloved France, where you may rail at England without censure!

—To this the doctor thought fit to make no reply; and an unsocial silence ensued; which I perceiving, took notice, that it was pity idle disputes, maintained very often for whim or diversion, should create any misunderstanding among gentlemen of good sense; and proposed to drink down all animosity in another bot|tle.—This motion was applauded by the whole company: the wine was brought, and the English champion declar|ing he had no spleen against any man for differing in opi|nion from him, any more than for difference of complex|ion, drank to the good health of all present; the com|pliment was returned, and the conversation once more be|came unreserved, though more general than before.—Among other topics, the subject of war was introduced, on which the general declaimed with great eloquence, re|counting many of his own exploits by way of illustration.—In the course of this harangue he happened to mention the word epaulement, upon which the testy gentleman

asked the meaning of that term.—

I'll tell you what an epaulement is, replied he—"I never saw an epaulement but once—and that was at the siege of Namur—In a council of war, Monsieur Cohorn, the famous engineer, affirmed, that the place could not be taken.—Yes,

said the prince of Vaudemont,

it may be taken by an epaulement.—This was immediately put in execution, and in twenty-four hours Marshal Boufflers was fain to capitulate.

—Here he made a full stop, and the old gentleman repeated the question,

But, pray, what is an epaulement?

—To this the officer made no immedi|ate reply, but rung the bell and called for a bill, which being brought, he threw down his proportion of the reckoning, and telling the company he would shew them what an epaulement is, when his Majesty thought fit to intrust him with the command of our army abroad, strut|ted away with great dignity—I could not imagine why he was so shy of explaining one of the most simple terms of fortification; which I forthwith described as a side|work composed of earth, gabions, or fascines; but I was very much surprised when I afterwards understood that this reserve proceeded from his ignorance.—Having paid our bill, we adjourned to the coffee-room, where my fellow|labourer insisted on treating me with a dish, giving me to understand at the same time, that I had acquired his good opinion, both with respect to my principles and intellects.—I thanked him for his compliment, and professing my|self an utter stranger in this part of the world, begged he would have the goodness to inform me of the quality and characters of the people who dined above.—This request was a real favour to one of his disposition, which was no less communicative than curious; he therefore complied with great satisfaction, and told me, to my extreme astonishment, that the supposed young prince was a dan|cer at one of the theatres; and the ambassador no other than a fidler belonging to the opera. "The doctor," said he,

is a Roman Catholic priest, who sometimes ap|pears in the character of an officer, and assumes the name of captain; but more generally takes the garb, title and behaviour of a physician, in which capacity he wheedles himself into the confidence of weak-mind|ed people, and by arguments no less specious than

false, converts them from their religion and allegiance.—He has been in the hands of justice more than once for such practices; but he is a sly dog, and manages matters with such craft, that hitherto he has escaped for a short imprisonment.—As for the general, you may see he has owed his promotion more to his interest than to his capacity; and now that the eyes of the ministry are opened, his friends dead, or become in|considerable, he is struck off the li••t, and obliged to put up with a yearly pension; in consequence of this re|duction, he is become malcontent, and inveighs against the government in all companies with so little discre|tion, that I am surprised at the lenity of the admini|stration in overlooking his insolence; but the truth of the matter is, he owes his safety to his weakness and want of importance.—He has seen a little, and but a little service; and yet if you will take his word for it, there has not been a great action performed in the field since the Revolution, in which he was not principally concerned. When a story is told of any great general, he immediately matches it with one of himself, though he is often unhappy in his invention, and commits such gross blunders in the detail, that every body is in pain for him.—Caesar, Pompey, and Alexander the Great, are continually in his mouth; and as he reads a good deal without any judgment to digest it, his ideas are confused, and his harangues as unintelligible as infi|nite; for once he begins, there is no chance of his leaving off speaking, while one person remains to yield attention; therefore the only expedient I know for putting a stop to his loquacity, is to lay hold of some incongruity he has uttered, and demand an explana|tion; or ask the meaning of some difficult term that he knows by name only; this will effectually put him to silence, if not to flight, as it happened when I en|quired about an epaulement. Had he been acquainted with the signification of that word, his triumph would have been intolerable, and we must have quitted the field first, or been worried with impertinence.

Having thus gratified my curiosity, the old gentleman began to discover his own in questions relating to myself, to which I thought proper to return ambiguous answers.

I pre|sume,

Sir,

said he,

you have travelled. I answered, Yes.

—"I dare say you will find it very expensive," said he. I replied,

To be sure one cannot travel with|out money.

—"That I know by experience," said he;

for I myself take a trip to Bath or Tunbridge every season; and one must pay sauce for what he has upon the road as well in other countries as in this—That's a very pretty stone in your ring—give me leave, Sir—the French have attained to a wonderful skill in making compositions of this kind. Why now, this looks almost as well as a diamond.

—"Almost as well, Sir," said I,

why not altogether? I am sure, if you understand any thing of jewels, you must perceive at first sight, that this stone is a real diamond, and that of a very fine water.—Take it in your hand and examine it.

He did so with some confusion, and returned it, saying,

I ask your pardon; I see it is a true brilliant of immense value.

I imagined his respect for me increased after this inquiry; therefore to captivate his esteem the more, I told him I would shew him a seal of composition, en|graved after a very valuable antique; upon which I pulled out my watch with a rich gold chain, adorned with three seals set in gold, and an opal ring. He viewed each of ••hem with great eagerness, handled the chain, admired the chased case, and observed, that the whole must have cost me a vast sum of money. I affected indifference, and replied in a careless manner,

Some trifle of sixty or se|venty guineas:

upon which he stared in my face for some time, and then asked me if I was an Englishman? I answered in the negative.

You are from Ireland then, Sir, I presume,

said he. I made the same reply. "Oh! perhaps," said he,

you were born in one of our settlements abroad.

I still answered, "No." He seemed very much surprised, and said, he was sure I was not a foreigner. I made no reply, but left him upon the tenter-hooks of impatient uncertainty. He could not con|tain his anxiety, but asked pardon for the liberty he had taken, and, to encourage me the more to disclose my situ|ation, displayed his own without reserve.—"I am," said he,

a single man, have a considerable annuity on which I live according to my own inclination, and make the ends of the year meet very comfortably. As I have no

estate to leave behind me, I am not troubled with the importunate officiousness of relations, or legacy-hunt|ers, and I consider the world as made for me, not me for the world: it is my maxim, therefore, to enjoy it while I can, and let futurity shift for itself.

While he thus indulged his own talkative vein, and at the same time, no doubt, expected a retaliation from me, a young man entered, dressed in black velvet and an enormous tie|wig, with an air in which natural levity and affected so|lemnity were so jumbled together, that on the whole he appeared a burlesque on all decorum. This ridiculous od|dity danced up to the table at which we sat, and, after a thousand grimaces, asked my friend by the name of Mr. Medlar, if we were not engaged upon business? My com|panion put on a surly countenance, and replied,

No great business, doctor—but, however

—"O then," cried the physician,

I must beg your indulgence a little; pray pardon me, gentlemen. Sir,

said he, addressing himself to me,

your most humble servant, I hope you will forgive me, Sir—I must beg the favour to sit—Sir—Sir, I have something of consequence to impart to my friend Mr. Medlar—Sir, I hope you will excuse my freedom in whispering, Sir.

Before I had time to give this complaisant person my permission, Mr. Medlar cried,

I'll have no whispering—if you have any thing to say to me, speak with an audible voice.

The doc|tor seemed a little disconcerted at this exclamation, and turning again to me, making a thousand apologies for pretending to make a mystery of any thing, which he said was owing to his ignorance of my connection with Mr. Medlar, but, now he understood I was a friend, he would communicate what he had to say in my hearing. He then began, after two or three hems, in this manner:

You must know, Sir, I am just come from dinner at my Lady Flareit's,

then addressing himself to me,

a lady of quality, Sir, at whose table I have the honour of dining sometimes. There was Lady Stately, and my Lady Larum, and Mrs. Dainty, and Miss Biddy Gig|l••r, upon my word a very good natured young lady, with a very pretty fortune, Sir. There was also my Lord Straddle, Sir John Shrug, and Master Billy Chat|ter, who is actually a very facetious young gentle|man.

So, Sir, her ladyship seeing me excessively fa|tigued, for she was the last of fifteen patients (people of distinction, Sir) whom I had visited this forenoon, insisted upon my staying dinner—though, upon my word, I protest I had no appetite; however, in com|pliance with her ladyship's request, Sir, I sat down, and the conversation turning on different subjects, among other things, Mr. Chatter asked very earnestly, when I saw Mr. Medlar? I told him I had not had the pleasure of seeing you these nineteen hours and a half; for you may remember, Sir, it was nearly about that time; I won't be positive as to a minute.—No! says he; then I desire you will go to his lodgings immedi|ately after dinner, and see what is the matter with him; for he must certainly be very bad, from having last night eat such a vast quantity of raw oysters.

The crusty gentleman, who, from the solemnity of his delivery, expected something extraordinary, no sooner heard his con|clusion than he started up in a testy humour, crying, "Pshaw, pshaw! d—n your oysters," and walked away after a short compliment of "Your servant, Sir," to me. The doctor got up also, saying,

I vow and protest, upon my word, I am actually amazed;

and followed Mr. Medlar to the bar, which ••as hard by, where he was pay|ing for the coffee; there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••hispered so loud, that I could overhear, "Pray who is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••entleman?" His friend re|plied, hastily,

I might have known that before now, if it had not been for your impertinent intrusion;

and walked off very much disappointed. The ceremonious physician returned immediately, and sat down by me, ask|ing a thousand pardons for leaving me alone, and giving me to understand, that what he had communicated to Mr. Medlar at the bar was an affair of the last importance, that would admit of no delay. He then called for some coffee, and launched out into the virtues of that berry, which he said, in cold phlegmatic constitutions like his, dried up the superfluous moisture, and braced the relaxed nerves. He told me, that it was utterly unknown to the ancients, and derived it name from an Arabian word, which I might easily perceive by the sound and termina|tion. From this topic he transferred his disquisition to the word drink, which he affirmed was improperly applied

to the taking of coffee, inasmuch as people did not drink but sip or sipple that liquor—that the genuine meaning of drinking is to quench one's thirst, or commit a debauch by swallowing wine—that the Latin word, which convey|ed the same idea, was bibere or potare, and that of the Greeks pinein or poteein, though he was apt to believe they were indifferently used on different occasions: for example, to drink a vast quantity, or, as the vulgar express it, to drink an ocean of liquor, was in Latin potare, and in Greek poteein; and, on the other hand, to use it mode|rately, was bibere and pinein—that this was only a conjecture of his own, which, however, seemed to be supported by the word bibulous, which is particularly applied to the pores of the skin, that can only drink a very small quan|tity of the circumambient moisture, by reason of the small|ness of their diameters—whereas, from the verb poteein is derived the substantive potamos, which signifies a river, or vast quantity of liquor. I could not help smiling at this learned and important investigation, and to recommend myself the more to my new acquaintance, whose disposi|tion I was by this time well informed of, I observed, that what he alledged did not, to the best of my remembrance, appear in the writings of the ancients; for Horace uses the words poto and bibo indifferently for the same purpose, as in the twentieth ode of his first book;

Vile potabis modicis Sabinum cantharis— —Et proelo domitam Caleno tu bibes uvam;

that I had never heard of the verb poteein, but that pot••|mos, potema, and potos, were derived from pino, poso, pe|poka, in consequence of which, the Greek poets never use any other word for festal drinking. Homer describes Nestor at his cups in these words:

Nestora d' ouk elathen jache pinonta perempes,

and Anacreon mentions it on the same occasion almost in every page;

Pinonti de oinon hedun Otan pino ton oinon. Opliz' ego de pino.

and in a thousand other places. The doctor, who doubt|less

intended by his criticism to give me a high idea of his erudition, was infinitely surprised to find himself schooled by one of my appearance, and, after a considerable pause, cried,

Upon my word, you are in the right, Sir—I find I have not considered this affair with my usual ac|curacy.

Then accosting me in Latin, which he spoke very well, the conversation was maintained full two hours on a variety of subjects, in that language: and indeed he spoke so judiciously, that I was convinced, notwithstand|ing his whimsical appearance, and attention to trifles, that he was a man of extensive knowledge, especially in books; he looked upon me, as I afterwards understood from Mr. Med••ar, as a prodigy in learning, and proposed that very night, if I was not engaged, to introduce me to several young gentlemen of fortune and fashion, with whom he had an appointment at the Bedford coffee-house.

CHAP. X.

Wagtail introduces me to a set of fine gentlemen, with whom I spend the evening at a tavern—our conversation—the characters of my new companions—the doctor is roasted—the issue of our debauch.

I ACCEPTED his offer with pleasure, and we went thither in a hackney-coach, where I saw a great number of gay figures fluttering about, most of whom spoke to the doctor with great familiarity. Among the rest stood a group of them around the fire, whom I immediately knew to be the very persons who had the night before, by their laughing, alarmed my suspicions of the lady who had put herself under my protection. They no sooner perceived me enter with Dr. Wagtail, (for that was my companion's name,) than they tittered and whispered one to another; and I was not a little surprised to find, that they were the gentlemen to whose acquaintance he designed to recom|mend me; for, when he observed them together, he told me who they were, and desired to know by what name he should introduce me. I satisfied him in that particular, and he advanced with great gravity, saying,

Gentlemen, your most obedient. Give me leave to introduce my friend Mr. Random to your society.

Then turning

to me,

Mr. Random, this is Mr. Bragwell—Mr. Ban|ter, Sir—Mr. Chatter—my friend, Mr. Slyboot, and Mr. Ranter, Sir.

I saluted each of them in order, and, when I came to take Mr. Slyboot by the hand, I perceived him thrust his tongue in his che••k, to the no small entertainment of the company; but I did not think proper to take any notice of it on this occasion. Mr. Ranter too (who I afterwards learned was a player) displayed his talents by mimicking my air, features, and voice, while he returned my compliment; this feat I should not have been so sensible of, had I not seen him behave in the same manner to my friend Wagtail, when he made up to them at first. But for once I let him enjoy the fruits of his dexterity without question or controul, resolved, however, to chastise his insolence at a more convenient opportunity. Mr. Slyboot, guessing I was a stranger, asked if I had lately been in France? and, when I answered in the affirma|tive, inquired if I had seen the Luxemburgh galley? I told him I had considered it more than once with great attention: upon this a conversation ensued, in which I discovered him to be a painter. While we were discoursing upon the particulars of this famous performance. I over|heard Banter ask Dr. Wagtail, where he had picked up this Mr. Random? To which question the physician an|swered,

Upon my word, a mighty pretty sort of a gen|tleman—a man of fortune, Sir—he has made the grand tour, and seen the best company in Europe, Sir.

—"What, he told you so, I suppose?" said the other;

I take him to be neither more nor less than a French valet de chambre.

—"O! barbarous, barbarous!" cried the doctor;

this is actually, upon my word, al|together unaccountable. I know all his family perfectly well, Sir—he's of the Randoms in the north—a very ancient house, Sir, and a distant relation of mine.

—I was extremely nettled at the conjecture of Mr. Banter, and began to entertain a very indifferent opinion of my company in general: but, as I might possibly by their means acquire a more extensive and agreeable acquaint|ance, I determined to bear these little mortifications as long as I could without injuring the dignity of my cha|racter. After having talked for some time on the wea|ther, plays, politics, and other coffee-house subjects, it

was proposed we should spend the evening at a noted tavern in the neighbourhood, whither we repaired in a body. Having taken possession of a room, called for French wine, and bespoke supper, the glass went about pretty freely, and the characters of my associates opened upon me more and more. It soon appeared that the doctor was entertained as a butt for the painter and player to exercise their wit upon for the diversion of the company. Mr. Ranter began the game by asking him what was good for hoarseness, lowness of spirits, and indigestion, for he was troubled with all these complaints to a very great degree. Wagtail immediately undertook to explain the nature of his case, and, in a very prolix manner, harangued upon prognostics, diagnostics, symptomatics, therapeutics, in|anition, and repletion; then calculated the force of the stomach and lungs in their respective operations, ascribed the player's malady to a disorder in these organs proceed|ing from hard drinking and vociferation, and prescribed a course of stomachics, with abstinence from venery, wine, loud speaking, laughing, singing, coughing, sneezing, or hallooing. "Pah, pah," cried Ranter, interrupting him,

the remedy is worse than the disease—I wish I knew where to find some tinder-water.

—

Tinder|water!

said the doctor;

upon my word I don't apprehend you, Mr. Ranter.

—

Water extracted from tinder,

replied the other;

an universal specific for all distempers incident to man. It was invented by a learned German monk, who for a valuable consideration imparted the secret to Paracelsus.

—"Pardon m••," cried the painter,

it was first used by Solomon, as ap|pears by a Greek manuscript in his own hand-writing, lately found at the foot of Mount Lebanon by a pea|sant who was digging for potatoes.

—"Well," said Wagtail,

in all my vast reading I never met with such a preparation! neither did I know till this minute, that Solomon understood Greek, or that potatoes grew in Palestine.

Here Banter interposed, saying, he was surprised Doctor Wagtail should make the least doubt of Solomon's understanding Greek, when he is represented to us as the wisest and best educated prince in the world; and as for potatoes, they were transplanted thither from Ire|land, in the time of the Crusades, by some knights of that

country. "I profess," said the doctor,

there is nothing more likely—I would actually give a vast sum for a sight of that manuscript, which must be inestimable—and, if I understood the process, would set about it immediate|ly.

The player assured him, that the process was very simple—that he must cram a hundred weight of dry tinder into a glass retort, and, distilling it by the force of animal heat, it would yield half a scruple of insipid water, one drop of which is a full dose. "Upon my integrity!" ex|claimed the credulous doctor,

this is amazing and ex|traordinary, that a caput mortuum shall yield any water at all!—I must own I have always been an enemy to specifics, which I thought inconsistent with the na|ture of the animal oeconomy; but certainly the autho|rity of Solomon is not to be questioned—I wonder where I shall find a glass retort large enough to contain such a vast quantity of tinder, the consumption of which must undoubtedly raise the price of paper—or where shall I find animal heat sufficient even to warm such a mass?

—Slyboot informed him, that he might have a retort blown for him as big as a church, and that the easiest method of raising the vapour by animal heat would be to place it in the middle of an infirmary for fe|verish patients, who might lie upon matrasses around, and in contact with it. He had no sooner pronounced these words than Wagtail exclaimed in a rapture,

An admi|rable expedient, as I hope to be saved! I will positively put it in practice.

This simplicity of the physician furnished excellent diversion for the company, who in their turns sneered at him in ironical compliments, which his vanity swallowed as the genuine sentiments of their hearts. Mr. Chatter, impatient of so long a silence, now broke out, and entertained us with a catalogue of all the people who danced at the last Hampstead assembly, with a most circumstantial account of the dress and ornaments of each, from the lappets of the ladies to the shoe-buckles of the men, concluding with telling Bragwell, that his mistress Melinda was there, and seemed to miss him, and soliciting his company at the next occasion of this kind.

No, no, damme,

said Bragwell,

I have something else to mind than dangling after a parcel of giddy-headed girls—besides you know my temper is so unruly, that

I am apt to involve myself in scrapes when a woman is concerned—The last time I was there, I had an affair with Tom Trippet.

—"O! I remember that," cried Banter;

you lugged out before the ladies; and I com|mend you for so doing, because you had an opportunity of shewing your manhood without running any risk.

"Risk!" said the other with a fierce countenance;

d—n my blood! I fear no risks. I an't afraid of lug|ging out against any man that wears a head, damme! 'tis well known I have drawn blood more than once, and lost some too; but what does that signify?

The player begged this champion to employ him as his second the next time he intended to kill; for he wanted to see a man die o•• a stab, that he might know how to act such a part the more naturally on the stage.—"Die!" replied the hero▪

No, by G—d! I know better things than to incur the verdict of a Middlesex jury. I should look upon my fencing-master to be an ignorant son of a b—ch, if he had not taught me to prick any part of my antagonist's body that I please to disable.

—"O ho!" cried Slyboot,

if that be the case, I have a favour to ask: you must know I am employed to paint a Jesus on the cross, and my purpose is to represent him at that point of time when the spear is thrust into his side—Now I should be glad you would, in my pre|sence pink some impertinent fellow into convulsions, without endangering his life, that I may have an op|portunity of taking a good clever agony from nature; the doctor will direct you where to enter, and how far to go; but pray let it be as near the left side as possi|ble.

Wagtail who took this proposal seriously, ob|served, that it would be a very difficult matter to pene|trate into the left side of the thorax without hurting the heart, and of consequence killing the patient; but he be|lieved it was possible for a man of a very nice hand, and exact knowledge of anatomy, to wound the diaphragma somewhere about the skirts, which might induce a singul|tus, without being attended with death—that he was rea|dy to demonstrate the insertion of the muscle to Mr. Brag|well, but desired to have no concern with the experiment, which might essentially prejudice his reputation in case of a miscarriage. Bragwell was as much imposed upon by

the painter's waggery as the doctor, and declined engag|ing in the affair, saying, he had a very great regard for Mr. Slyboot, but had laid it down as a maxim, never to fight except when his honour was engaged. A thousand jokes of this kind were passed; the wine circulated, sup|per was served in, we ate heartily, returned to the bottle; Bragwell became noisy and troublesome, Banter grew more and more severe, Ranter rehearsed, Slyboot made faces at the whole company, I sung French catches, and Chatter kissed me with great affection; while the doctor, with a woeful countenance, sat silent like a disciple of Pythagoras. At length it was proposed by Bragwell, that we should scour the hundreds, sweat the constable, maul the watch, and then reel soberly to bed.

While we deliberated on this expedition, the waiter came into the room, and asked for Dr. Wagtail; when he understood he was present, he told him there was a lady below to inquire for him; at which the physician started from his melancholy contemplation, and, with a look of extreme confusion, assured the company he could not pos|sibly be the person wanted; for he had no connection with any lady whatever—and bid the drawer tell her so.

For shame!

cried Banter,

would you be so impolite as to refuse the lady a hearing? perhaps she comes for a consultation—it must be some extraordinary affair that brings a lady to a tavern at this time o'night. Mr. Ranter, pray do the doctor's baise-mains to the lady, and squire her hither.

The player immediately stag|gered out, and returned, leading in, with much ceremony, a tall strapping wench, whose appearance proclaimed her occupation. We received her with the utmost solemnity, and with a good deal of entreaty she was persuaded to sit, when a profound silence ensued, during which she fixed her eyes, with a disconsolate look upon the doctor, who was utterly confounded at her behaviour, and returned her melancholy four-fold; at length, after a good many pi|teous sighs, she wiped her eyes, and accosted him thus:

What, not one word of comfort? will nothing soften that stony heart of thine? Not all my tears! not all my afflictions! not the inevitable ruin thou hast brought upon me! Where are thy vows, thou faithless, perjured man?—Hast thou no honour—no conscience—no re|morse for thy perfidious conduct towards me!—Answer

me—wilt thou at last do me justice, or must I have re|course to heaven or hell for my revenge!

If poor Wagtail was amazed before she spoke, what must his con|fusion be on hearing this address! His natural paleness changed into a ghastly clay colour, his eyes rolled, his lip trembled, and he answered in an accent not to be descri|bed;

Upon my word, honour, and salvation! Madam, you are actually mistaken in my person. I have a most particular veneration for your sex, Madam, and am actually incapable of injuring any lady in the smallest de|gree, Madam—besides, Madam, to the best of my recol|lection, I never had the honour of seeing you before, as I hope to be saved, Madam.

—"How, traitor!" cried she,

dost thou disown me then?—Mistaken! no—too well I know that fair bewitching face! too well I know that false enchanting tongue! Alas! gentlemen, since the villain compels me by his unkindness to expose my|self and him, know, that this betrayer, under the spe|cious pretence of honourable addresses, won my heart, and, taking advantage of his conquest, robbed me of my virgin treasure, and afterwards abandoned me to my fate!—I am now four months gone with child by him, turned out of doors by my relations, and left a prey to misery and want!—Yes, thou barbarian,

said she, turning to Wagtail,

thou tiger, thou succubus! too well thou knowest my situation—but I will tear out thy faithless heart, and deliver the world from such a monster.

So saying, she sprang forward at the doctor, who with incredible agility jumped over the table, and ran behind Bragwell, while the rest of us endeavoured to appease the furious heroine. Although every body in the company affected the utmost surprise, I could easily per|ceive it was a scheme concerted among them to produce diversion at the doctor's expence; and, being under no concern about the consequence, I entered into the confe|deracy, and enjoyed the distress of Wagtail, who with tears in his eyes begged the protection of the company, declaring himself as innocent of the crime laid to his charge as the foetus in utero, and hinting at the same time, that nature had not put it in his power to be guilty of such a trespass—"Nature!" cried the lady; there was no

nature in the case—he abused me by the help of charms

and spells, else how is it possible, that any woman could have listened to the addresses of such a scare-crow!—Were these owlish eyes made for ogling, that carrion complexion to be admired, or that mouth, like a horse|shoe, to be kissed? No, no, you owe your success to your philtres, to your drugs and incantations, and not to your natural talents, which are in every respect mean and contemptible?

The doctor now thought he had got an opportunity of vindicating himself effectually, and desired the complainant to compose herself but for half an hour, in which he undertook to prove the absurdity of be|lieving in the power of incantations, which were only idle dreams of ignorance and superstition. He accordingly pronounced a very learned discourse upon the nature of ideas, the powers and independence of the mind, the pro|perties of stimulating medicines, the difference between a proneness to venery, which many simples would create, and a passion limited to one object, which can only be the result of sense and reflection, and concluded with a pathe|tic remonstrance, setting forth his unhappiness in being persecuted with the resentment of a lady whom he had ne|ver injured, nor even seen before that occasion, and whose faculties were, in all likelihood, so much impaired by her misfortunes, that an innocent person was in danger of being ruined by her disorder. He had no sooner finished his harangue than the forlorn princess renewed her la|mentations, and cautioned the company against his elo|quence, which, she said, was able to bias the most im|partial bench in Christendom. Banter advised him to es|pouse her immediately as the only means to salve his re|putation, and offered to accompany him to the Fleet for that purpose; but Slyboot proposed, that a father should be purchased for the child, and a comfortable alimony set|tled on the mother. Ranter promised to adopt the infant gratis. Wagtail was ready to worship him for his gene|rosity; and though he persisted in protesting his inno|cence, condescended to every thing rather than his unble|mished character should be called in question.—The lady rejected the proposal, and insisted on matrimony. Brag|well took up the cudgels for the doctor, and undertook to rid him of her importunity for half a guinea; upon which Wagtail, with great eagerness, pulled out his purse,

and put it into the hand of his friend, who, taking half a piece out of it, gave it to the plaintiff, and bid her thank God for her good fortune. When she had received this bounty, she affected to weep, and begged, since the phy|sician had renounced her, he would at least vouchsafe her a parting kiss; this he was prevailed upon to grant with great reluctance, and went up with his usual solemnity to salute her, when she laid hold of his check with her teeth, and held fast, while he roared with anguish, to the un|speakable diversion of all present. When she thought pro|per to release him, she dropped a low courtsey to the com|pany, and quitted the room, leaving the doctor in the utmost horror, not so much on account of the pain, as the apprehension of the consequence of the bite; for by this time he was convinced of her being mad. Banter prescri|bed the actual cautery, and put the poker in the fire to be heated, in order to fear the place. The player was of opi|nion, that Bragwell should scoop out the part affected with the point of his sword; but the painter prevented both these dreadful operations by recommending a balsam he had in his pocket, which never failed to cure the bite of a mad dog: so saying, he pulled out a small bladder of black paint, with which he instantly anointed not only the sore but the greatest part of the patient's face, and left it in a frightful condition. In short, the poor creature was so harrassed with fear and vexation, that I pitied him extreme|ly, and sent him home in a chair, contrary to the inclina|tion of every body present.

This freedom of mine gave umbrage to Bragwell, who testified his displeasure by swearing a few threats, with|out making application; which was no sooner perceiv|ed by Mr. Slyboot, who sat by me, than with a view of promoting a quarrel, he whispered to me, that he thought Bragwell used me very ill; but every man was the best judge of his own affairs.—I answered aloud, that I would neither suffer Mr. Bragwell nor him to use me ill with impunity; and that I stood in no need of his counsel in regard to the regulation of my conduct.—He thought proper to ask a thousand pardons, and assured me, he meant no offence; while Bragwell feigned him|self asleep, that he might not be obliged to take notice of what passed. But the player, who had more animal spi|rits,

and less discretion than Slyboot, unwilling to let the affair rest, where he had dropt it, jogged Mr. Bragwell, and told him softly, that I called him names, and threa|tened to cudgel him.—This I understood by his starting up and crying,

Blood and wounds! you lie—No man durst treat me so ignominiously: Mr. Random, did you call me names, and threaten to drub me?

I de|nied the imputation, and proposed to punish the scoun|drel, who endeavoured to foment disturbance in the com|pany; Bragwell signified his approbation, and drew his sword; I did the same, and accosted the actor in these words,

Lookee, Mr. Ranter, I know you possess all the mimickry and mischievous qualities of an ape, because I have observed you put them all in practice more than once to-night on me and others; now I want to see if you resemble one in nimbleness also; therefore I desire you to leap over this sword without hesitation;

so saying, I held it parallel to the horizon, at the distance of about three feet from the floor, and cal|led, "Once—twice—thrice, and away;"—but instead of complying with my commands, he snatched his hat and hanger, and assuming the look, swagger, and phrase of Pistol, burst out into the following exclamation:

Ha! must I then perform inglorious prank, of Sylvan ape in mountain forest caught! Death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days, and lay my head in fury's lap—Have we not Hieren here?

—This buffoonery did not an|swer his expectation, for by this time the company was bent on seeing him in a new character. Mr. Banter de|sired me to hold my sword a foot or two higher, that he might have an opportunity of exerting himself—The painter told him, if he performed well, he would recom|mend him as a vaulter to the proprietors of Sadler's Wells; and Bragwell crying, "Leap for the king," ap|plied the point of his sword to the player's posteriors, with such success, that he sprang over in a trice, and finding the door unguarded, vanished in a twinkling; glad, no doubt, of having paid his share of the reckoning so easily.

It being now near two o'clock in the morning, we dis|charged the bill, and sallied out into the street.—The painter s••unk away without taking his leave—Billy Chat|ter

being unable to speak or stand, was sent to a Bagnio; and Banter and I accompanied Bragwell to Moll King's coffee-house, where, after he had kicked half a dozen hun|gry whores, we left him asleep on a bench, and directed our course towards Charing-Cross, near which place both he and I lodged.

The natural dryness of my companion being overcome by liquor, he honoured me by the way with many com|pliments and professions of friendship, for which I made suitable acknowledgments, and told him, I thought my|self happy in having, by my behaviour, removed the un|favourable opinion he entertained of me at first sight.—He was surprized at this declaration, and begged me to ex|plain myself: upon which I mentioned what I had over|heard him say of me to Wagtail, in the coffee-house.—He laughed, and made an apology for his freedom, as|suring me, that my appearance had very much prepossessed him in my favour: and what he said, was only intended as a joke on the doctor's solemnity.—I was highly pleased at being undeceived in this particular, and not a little proud of the good opinion of this wit, who shook me by the hand at parting, and promised to meet me next day at the ordinary.

CHAP. XI.

Strap communicates to me a conquest he had made of a chan|dler's widow—finds himself miserably mistaken—I go to an opera—admire Melinda—am cautioned by Banter—go to the assembly at Hampstead—dance with that young lady—receive an insolent message from Bragwell, whose mettle is soon cooled—am in favour with my mistress, whom I visit next day, and am bubbled out of eighteen guineas at cards—Strap triumphs at my success, but is astonished at my expence—Banter comes to my lodgings, is very sarcastical at my expence, and borrows five guineas from me as a proof of his friendship.

IN the morning, before I got up, Strap came into my chamber, and finding me awake, hemmed several times, scratched his head, cast his eyes upon the ground, and with a very foolish kind of a simper l••t me know he had

something to communicate.—"By your countenance," said I, "I expect to hear good tidings."—"Indifferent," replied he, tittering, "that is, hereafter as it shall be.—

You must know, I have some thoughts of altering my condition.

—"What!" cried I, astonished,

a ma|trimonial scheme? O rare Strap! thou hast got the heels of me at last.

—"N'—no less, I'll assure you," said he, bursting into a laugh of self-approbation,

a tallow-chandler's widow, that lives hard by, has taken a liking to me—a fine jolly dame, as plump as a par|tridge.—She has a well furnished house, a brisk trade, and a good deal of the ready.—I may have her for the asking.—She told a friend of mine, a brother footman, that she would take me out of a stinking clout.—But I refused to give my final answer, till I knew your opi|nion of the matter.

—I congratulated Monsieur d'E|strapes upon his conquest, and approved of the scheme, provided he could be assured of those circumstances of her fortune; but advised him to do nothing rashly, and give me an opportunity of seeing the lady before matters should be brought to a conclusion.—He assured me he would do nothing without my consent and approbation, and that very morning, while I was at breakfast, introduced his inamorata to my acquaintance.—She was a short thick woman, about the age of thirty-six, and had a particular prominence of belly, which I perceived at first sight, not without some suspicion of foul play.—I desired her, how|ever, to sit and treated her with a dish of tea; the dis|course turning on the good qualities of Strap, whom I represented as a prodigy of sobriety, industry and virtue.—When she took her leave, he followed her to the door, and returned licking his lips, and asking if I did not think she was a luscious creature.—I made no mystery of my apprehension, but declared my sentiments of her without reserve; at which he was not surprised, telling me he had observed the same symptom, but was informed by his friend that she was only liver-grown, and would in a few months be as small in the waist as ever.—"Yes," said I,

a few weeks, I believe, will do the business.—In short, Strap, it is my opinion, that you are egregiously im|posed upon; and that this friend is no other than a rascal who wants to palm his trull upon you for a wi••e,

that he may at once deliver himself from the importu|nities of the mother, and the expence of her bantling; for which reason I would not have you trust implicitly to the report he makes of her wealth, which is incon|sistent with his behaviour; nor run your head precipi|tately into a noose, that you may afterwards wish ex|changed for the hangman's.

—He seemed very much startled at my insinuation, and promised to look twice be|fore he leaped; saying, with some heat,

Odds, if I find his intention is to betray me, we shall see which of us is the better man.

—My prediction was verified in less than a fortnight; her great belly producing an infant, to the unspeakable amazement of Strap, who was, before this happened, inclinable to believe I had refined a little too much in my penetration. His false friend disappear|ed; and in a few days after, an execution was issued against her goods and houshold furniture, which were seized by the creditors.

Meanwhile I met my friend Banter at the ordinary, and in the evening went to the opera with him and Mr. Chatter, who pointed out Melinda in one of the boxes, and offered to introduce me to her, observing at the same time, that she was a reigning toast, worth ten thou|sand pounds.—This piece of information made my heart bound with joy, and I discovered great eagerness to ac|cept the proposal; upon which he assured me I should dance with her at the next assembly, if he had any influ|ence in that quarter; so saying, he went round, spoke to her some minutes, and, as I imagined, pointed at me; then returning, told me, to my inexpressible pleasure, that I might depend upon what he had promised, for she was now engaged as my partner.—Banter, in a whisper, gave me to understand, that she was an incorrigible coquette, who would grant the same favour to any young fellow in England, of a tolerable appearance, merely to engage him among the herd of her admirers, that she might have the pleasure of seeing them daily increase;—that she was of a cold insensible disposition, dead to every passion but vanity, and so blind to merit, that he would lay any wa|ger, the wealthiest fool should carry her at last. I attri|buted a good deal of this intelligence to the satirical turn of my friend, or resentment for having himself suffered a

rebuff from the lady in question; and at any rate trusted so much to my own accomplishments, as to believe no wo|man could resist the ardor of my addresses.

Full of this confidence I repaired to Hampstead, in company with Billy Chatter, my Lord Hobble, and Doc|tor Wagtail. Here I saw a very brilliant assembly, be|fore whom I had the honour to walk a minuet with Me|linda, who charmed me with her frank manner and easiness of behaviour.—Before the country dances be|gan, I received a message by a person, I did not know, from Bragwell, who was present, importing, that no|body, who knew him, presumed to dance with Melinda while he was there in person; and that I would do well to relinquish her without noise, because he had a mind to lead up a country dance with her. This extraordinary in|timation, which was delivered in the lady's hearing, did not at all discompose me, who by this time was pretty well acquainted with the character of my rival. I there|fore without the least symptom of concern, bid the gen|tleman tell Mr. Bragwell, that since I was so happy as to obtain the lady's consent, I should not be solicitous about his; and desired the bearer himself to bring me no such impertinent messages for the future. Melinda affect|ed a sort of confusion, and pretended to wonder that Mr. Bragwell should give himself such liberties, with regard to her, who had no manner of connection with the fellow. I laid hold of this opportunity to display my valour, and offered to call him to an account for his insolence, which she absolutely refused, under pretence of consulting my safety; though I could perceive by the sparkling of her eyes, that she would not have thought herself affronted in being the subject of a duel. I was by no means plea|sed with this discovery of her thoughts, which not only argued the most unjustifiable vanity, but likewise the most barbarous indifference; however, I was allured by her fortune, and resolved to gratify her pride, in making her the occasion of a public quarrel between me and Bragwell, who, I was pretty certain, would never drive matters to a dangerous extremity.

While we danced together, I observed this formidable rival at one end of the room, encircled with a cluster of beaux, to whom he talked with great vehemence, casting

many big looks at me from time to time: I guessed the subject of their discourse, and as soon as I had handed my partner to her seat, strutted up to the place where he stood, and cocking my hat in his face, demanded aloud, if he had any thing to say to me. He answered with a sullen tone, "Nothing at present, Sir," and turned about upon his heel.—"Well," said I,

you know where I am to be found at any time.

—His companions stared at one another, and I returned to the lady, whose features brightened at my approach, and immediately a whisper ran through the whole room; after which, so many eyes were turned upon me, that I was ready to sink with con|fusion.—When the ball broke up, I led her to her coach, and, like a true French gallant, would have got up be|hind it, in order to protect her from violence on the road; but she absolutely refused my offer, and expressed her con|cern that there was not an empty seat for me within it.

Next day in the afternoon, I waited on her at her lodgings, by permission, in company with Chatter, and was very civilly received by her mother, with whom she lived;—there were a good many fashionable people pre|sent, chiefly young fellows; and immediately after tea, a couple of card tables were set, at one of which I had the honour to play with Melinda, who in less than three hours made shift to plunder me of eight guineas.—I was well enough content to lose a little money with a good grace, that I might have an opportunity to say soft things in the mean time, which are still more welcome, when at|tended with good luck; but I was by no means satisfied with her fair play, a circumstance that shocked me not a little, and greatly impaired my opinion of her disinterest|edness and delicacy.—However, I was resolved to profit by this behaviour, and treat her in my turn with less ce|remony; accordingly I laid close siege to her, and finding her not at all disgusted with the gross incense I offered, that very night made a declaration of love in plain terms.—She received my addresses with great gaiety, and pre|tended to laugh them off, but at the same time treated me with such particular complacency, that I was persuad|ed I had made a conquest of her heart, and concluded myself the happiest man alive. Elevated with these flatter|ing ideas, I sat down again to cards after supper, and with

great cheerfulness suffered myself to be cheated of ten gui|neas more.

It was late before I took my leave, after being favour|ed with a general invitation; and when I got into bed, the adventures of the day hindered me from sleeping.—Sometimes I pleased myself with the hopes of possessing a fine woman with ten thousand pounds; then I would ru|minate on the character I had heard of her from Banter, and compare it with the circumstances of her conduct to|wards me, which seemed to bear too great a resemblance to the picture he had drawn.—This introduced a melan|choly reflection on the expence I had undergone, and the smallness of my funds to support it, which, by the bye, were none of my own.—In short, I found myself involved in doubts and perplexit••••s, that kept me awake the great|est part of the night.

In the morning, Strap, with whom I had not conver|sed for two days, presented himself with the utensils for shaving me; upon which, I asked his opinion of the lady whom he had seen me conduct to her coach at Hampstead.—"Odd! she's a delicious creature," cried he,

and, as I am informed, a great fortune.—I am sorry you did not insist on going home with her.—I dare say, she would not have refused your company; for she seems to be a good-humoured soul.

—

There's a time for all things,

said I.

You must know, Strap, I was in company with her till one o'clock this morning.

—I had no sooner pronounced these words, than he began to caper about the room, and snap his fingers, crying in a transport, "The day's our own!—The day's our own!" I gave him to understand that his triumph was a little premature, and that I had more difficulties to surmount than he was aware of; then I recounted to him the intel|ligence I had received from Banter.—At which he chang|ed colour, shook his head, and observed there was no faith in woman.—I told him, I was resolved to make a bold push notwithstanding, although I foresaw it would lead me into a great expence; and bid him guess the sum I had lost last night at cards.—He scratched his chin, and professed his abhorrence of cards, the very name of which being mentioned made him sweat with vexation, as it re|called the money-dropper to his remembrance;

But

however,

said he,

you have to do with other guess people now.—Why, I suppose, if you had a bad run last night, you would scarce come off for less than ten or twelve shillings.

—I was mortified at this piece of simplicity, which I imagined, at that time, was all affect|ed, by way of reprimand for my folly; and asked with some heat, if he thought I had spent the evening in a cellar with chairmen and bunters; giving him to know, at the same time, that my expence amounted to eighteen guineas.—It would require the pencil of Hogarth to ex|press the astonishment and concern of Strap, on hearing this piece of news; the bason in which he was preparing the lather for my chin, dropped out of his hands, and he remained some time immoveable in that ludicrous attitude, with his mouth open, and his eyes thrust forward consi|derably beyond their station; but remembering my dis|position which was touchy and impatient of control, he smothered his chagrin, and attempted to recollect himself.—With this view he endeavoured to laugh, but in spite of his teeth, broke out into a whimper, took up his wash|ball and pewter pot, scrubbed my beard with the one, and discharged the other upon my face.—I took no no|tice of his confusion, but after he had fully recovered him|self, put him in mind of his right, and assured him of my readiness to surrender his effects whenever he should think proper to demand them.—He was nettled at my insinua|tion, which he thought proceeded from my distrust of his friendship; and begged I would never talk to him in that strain again, unless I had a mind to break his heart.

This good creature's unalterable friendship for me, af|fected me with the most grateful sentiments, and acted as a spur to my resolution of acquiring a fortune, that I might have it in my power to manifest my generosity in my turn—For this purpose, I determined to bring mat|ters to a speedy conclusion with Melinda, well knowing that a few such nights as the last, would effectually inca|pacitate me from prosecuting that, or any other advanta|geous amour.

While my meditation was busied in planning out my future conduct, Mr. Banter favoured me with a visit; and after breakfast, asked how I had passed the preceding evening?—I answered, I was very agreeably entertained

at a private house.—"Yes," said he, with a ••arcastic smile,

you deserved something extraordinary for the price you paid.

—I was surprised at his remark, and pre|tended ignorance of his meaning.—

Come, come, Ran|dom.

continued he,

you need not make a mystery of it to me, the whole town has it.—I wish that foolish affair between you and Bragwell at Hampstead had been less public.—It has set all the busy-bodies at work to find out your real character and situation; and you cannot imagine what conjectures have already cir|culated at your expence: one suspects you to be a Jesuit in disguise; another thinks you are an agent for the Pretender; a third believes you to be an up|start gamester, because nobody knows any thing of your family or fortune; a fourth is of opinion that you are an Irish fortune-hunter.

—This last hypothesis touched me so nearly, that to conceal my confusion, I was fain to interrupt his detail, and damn the world for an en|vious meddling community, that would not suffer a gen|tleman to live without molestation. He took no notice of this apostrophe, but went on:

For my own part, I neither know nor desire to know, who, or what you are; this I am certain of, that few people make a my|stery of their origin and situation, who can boast of any thing advantageous in either;—and my own opi|nion of the matter is, that you have raised yourself by your industry, from nothing to the appearance you now maintain, and which you endeavour to support by some matrimonial scheme.

—Here he fixed his eyes stedfastly upon me, and perceiving my face covered with blushes, told me, now he was confirmed in his opinion:—"Look ye, Random," said he,

I have divined your plan, and am confident it will never succeed—You are too ho|nest and too ignorant of the town, to practise the necessa|ry cheats of your profession, and detect the conspiracies that will be formed against you—Besides you are down|right bashful—what the devil! set up for a fortune-hun|ter, before you have conquered the sense of shame! Per|haps you are entitled by your merit, and I believe you are, to a richer and better wife than Melinda; but take my word for it, she is not to be won at that rate—or, if you are so lucky as to carry her, between you and

me, you may say as Teague did, By my soul I have gain|ed a loss! She would take care to spend her own fortune in a twinkling, and soon make you sick of her extrava|gance.

I was alarmed by this discourse, while I re|sented the freedom of it, and expressed my disgust by tell|ing him, he was mistaken in my intentions, and desiring he would give me leave to regulate my conduct according to the dictates of my own reason. He made an apology for the liberty he had taken, and ascribed it to the warmth of his friendship for me, as an uncommon instance of which he borrowed five guineas, assuring me there were very few people in the world whom he would so far favour with his confidence. I gave him the money, and professed myself so well convinced of his sincerity, that he had no occasion to put it to such extraordinary proofs for the future.—

I thought,

said he,

to have asked five pieces more; but, hearing you were bubbled of eighteen last night, I presumed you might be out of cash, and resolved to model my demand accordingly.

I could not help ad|miring the cavalier behaviour of this spark, of whom I desired to know his reason for saying I was bubbled: whereupon he gave me to understand, that, before he came to my lodgings, he had beat up Tom Tossle, who, having been present, informed him of the particulars, rehearsed all the fine things I said to Melinda, with which he propo|sed to entertain the town—and, among other circum|stances, assured him, my mistress cheated with so little art, that nobody but a mere novice could have been im|posed upon.

The thoughts of becoming a subject of raillery for cox|combs, and losing my money to boot, stung me to the quick; but I made a virtue of my indignation, and swore that no man should with impunity either asperse the cha|racter of Melinda, or turn my behaviour into ridicule. He replied in a dry manner, that I would find it an Herculean task to chastise every body who should laugh at my ex|pence; and, as for the character of Melinda, he did not see how I could suffer by what was laid to her charge; for that cheating at cards, so far from being reckoned a blemish among people of fashion, was looked upon as an honourable indication of superior genius and address.—

"But let us wave this subject," said he,

and go to the coffee-house, in order to make a party for dinner.

CHAP. XII.

We repair to the coffee-house, where we overhear a curious dispute between Wagtail and Medlar, which is referred to our d••cision—the doctor gives us an account of his expe|riment—Medlar is roasted by Banter at the ordinary—the old gentleman's advice to me.

BEING as willing to drop the theme, as he to propose it▪ I accompanied him thither, where we found Mr. Medlar and Dr. Wagtail disputing upon the word custard, which the physician affirmed should be spelled with a g. because it was derived from the Latin verb gustare "to taste." But Medlar pleaded custom in be|half of c. observing, that by the doctor's rule we ought to change pudding into budding, because it is derived from the French word boudin; and, in that case, why not re|tain the original orthography and pronunciation of all the foreign words we have adopted, by which means our lan|guage would become a dissonant jargon without standard or propriety? The controversy was referred to us; and Banter, notwithstanding his real opinion to the contrary, decided in favour of Wagtail: upon which the peevish an|nuitant arose, and uttering the monosyllable "Pish" with great emphasis, removed to another table.

We then inquired of the doctor what progress he had made in the experiment of distilling tinder-water? and he told us he had been at all the glass-houses about town, but could find nobody who would undertake to blow a retort large enough to hold the third part of the quan|tity prescribed; but he intended to try the process on as much as would produce five drops, which would be sufficient to prove the specific, and then he would make it a parliamentary affair—that he had already purchased a considerable weight of rags, in reducing of which to tin|der he had met with a misfortune which had obliged him to change his lodgings; for he had gathered them in a heap on the floor, and set fire to them with a candle, on the supposition that the board would sustain no damage,

because it is the nature of the flame to ascend; but by some very extraordinary accident the wood was invaded, and began to blaze with great violence, which disordered him so much, that he had not presence of mind enough to call for assistance, and the whole house must have been con|sumed with him in the midst of it, had not the smoke that rolled out of the windows in clouds alarmed the neigh|bourhood, and brought people to his succour—that he had lost a pair of black velvet breeches and a tye-wig in the hurry, besides the expence of the rags, which were rendered useless by the water used to quench the flame, and the damage of the floor, which he was compelled to repair—that his landlord, believing him distracted, had insisted on his quitting his apartment at a minute's warn|ing, which put him to incredible inconvenience; but now he was settled in a very comfortable house, and had the use of a large paved yard for preparing his tinder; so that he hoped in a very short time to reap the fruits of his labour.

After having congratulated the doctor on his prospect, and read the papers, we repaired to an auction of pictures, where we entertained ourselves an hour or two; from thence we adjourned to the Mall, and, after two or three turns, went back to dinner, Banter assuring us, that he intended to roast Medlar at the ordinary; and indeed we were no sooner set than this cynic began to execute his purpose, by telling the old gentleman he looked extremely well, considering the little sleep he had enjoyed last night. To this compliment Medlar made no reply but by a stare, accompanied with a significant grin; and Banter went on thus:

I don't know whether most to admire the cha|rity of your mind or the vigour of your body. Upon my soul, Mr. Medlar, you do generous things with the best taste of any man I know! You extend your com|passion to real objects, and exact only such returns as they are capable of making. You must know, gentle|men,

said he, turning to the company,

I had been up most part of the night with a friend who is ill of a fever, and, on my return home this morning, I chan|ced to pass by a gin-shop, still open, whence issued a confused sound of mirth and jollity: upon which, I pop|ped in my head, and perceived Mr. Medlar dancing

bare-headed in the midst of ten or twenty ragged bun|ters, who rejoiced at his expence. But indeed, Mr. Medlar, you ought not to sacrifice your constitution to your benevolence—consider you grow old apace, and▪ therefore ought to have a reverend care of your health, which must certainly be very much impaired by these nocturnal expeditions.

The testy senior could no long|er contain himself, but cried hastily,

'Tis well known that your tongue is no slander.

—"I think," said the other,

you might spare that observation, as you are very sensible that my tongue has done you signal service on many occasions. You may remember that, when you made your addresses to the fat widow who kept a pub|lic-house at Islington, there was a report spread, very much to the prejudice of your manhood, which coming to the ears of your mistress, you were discarded imme|diately; and I brought matters to a reconciliation, by assuring her you had three bastards at nurse in the coun|try: how you ruined your affairs afterwards, it is nei|ther my business nor inclination to relate.

This anec|dote, which had no other foundation than in Banter's own invention, afforded a good deal of mirth to every person present, and provoked Mr. Medlar beyond all suf|ferance; so that he started up in a mighty passion, and, forgetting that his mouth was full, bespattered those who sat next him, while he discharged his indignation in a vol|ley of oaths, and called Banter insignificant puppy, imper|tinent jackanapes, and a hundred such appellations, telling the company he had invented these false malicious aspersions, because he would not lend him money to squander away upon rooks and whores.—"A very likely story," said Ban|ter,

that I should attempt to borrow money of a man who is obliged to practise a thousand shifts to make his weekly allowance hold out till Saturday's night. Some|times he sleeps four and twenty hours at a stretch, by which means he saves three meals, besides coffee-house expence—sometimes he is fain to put up with bread and cheese, and small beer, for dinner—and sometimes he regales on two pennyworth of ox-cheese in a cellar.

—"You are a lying miscreant," cried Medlar, in an extasy of rage;

I can always command money enough to pay your taylor's bill, which I am sure is no trifle; and I

have a good mind to give you a convincing proof of my circumstances by prosecuting you for defamation, sirrah.

By this time the violence of his wrath had de|prived him of his appetite, and he sat silent, unable to swallow one mouthful, while his tormentor enjoyed his mortification and increased his chagrin by advising him to lay in plentifully for his next day's fast.

Dinner being ended, we came do 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stairs to the coffee-room, and Banter went away to keep an appointment, saying, he supposed he should see Wagtail and me in the evening at the Bedford coffee-house.—He was no sooner gone, than the old gentleman took me aside, and said he was sorry to see me so intimate with that fellow, who was one of the most graceless rakes about town, and had al|ready wasted a good estate and constitution upon harlots. That he had been the ruin of many a young man, by in|troducing them into debauched company, and setting a lewd example of all manner of wickedness; and that un|less I was on my guard, he would strip me in a short time both of my money and reputation. I thanked him for his information, and promised to conduct myself ac|cordingly, wishing, however, his caution had been a few hours more early, by which means I might have saved five guineas. Notwithstanding this intelligence, I was inclinable to impute some part of this charge to Medlar's revenge for the liberties taken with him at dinner, and therefore, as soon as I could disengage myself, applied to Wagtail for his opinion of the character in question, re|solved to compare their accounts, allowing for the preju|dice of each, and form my judgment upon both, without adhering strictly to either. The doctor assured me, that he was a very pretty gentleman of family and fortune, a scholar, a wit, a critic, and perfectly well acquainted with the town; that his honour and courage were un|questionable, though some extravagances he had been guil|ty of, and his talent for satire, had procured him enemies, and made some people shy of his acquaintance. From these different sketches I concluded, that Banter was a young fellow of some parts, who had spent his fortune, but re|tained his appetites, and fallen out with the world, be|cause he could not enjoy it to his wish.

I went to the Bedford coffee-house in the evening,

where I met my friends, from thence proceeded to the play, and afterwards carried them home to my lodgings, where we supped with great harmony and satisfaction.

CHAP. XIII.

I receive a challenge—the consequences of it—the quarrel being made up, I am put in arrest by the care and affec|tion of Strap, but immediately released upon explaining my affair—the behaviour of Mr. O'Regan and his two friends—I visit Melinda, whom I divert with an account of the duel—propose marriage—she refers the matter to her mother, of whom I make a solemn demand of her daugh|ter—the old lady's behaviour—I am discarded, resent their disdain.

WHEN I was ready to go abroad next day, Strap brought me a letter, directed To Mr. Random, Esq. Those—Which, upon opening, I found contained a chal|lenge, couched in these very extraordinary terms:

SIR,

WHEREAS I am informed that you make love to Miss Melinda Goosetrap. This is to let you know, that she is under promise of marriage to me; and that I am at this present waiting at the back of Montague-house, with a pair of good pistols in my hand, and if you will keep your appointment, I will make your tongue confess, (after the breath is out of your body,) that you do not deserve her as well as

Yours, &c. ROURK O'REGAN.

I guessed from the style and subscription of this billet, that my rival was true Milesian, and was not a little un|easy at the contents, especially that part, in which he as|serted his right to my mistress by promise, a circumstance I did not know how to reconcile to her penetration.—How|ever, this was no time for me to decline the defiance, because the success of my addresses might in a great mea|sure depend upon my behaviour in that affair. I there|fore immediately loaded my pistols, and betook myself in

a hackney-coach to the place appointed, where I found a tall, raw-boned man, with a hard featured countenance, and black bushy beard, walking by himself, wrapped up in a shabby great coat, over which his own hair descend|ed in a leathern queue from his head, that was covered with a greasy hat trimmed with a tarnished point d' Fspagne. He no sooner perceived me advancing, than without any preamble, he pulled a pistol from his bosom, and present|ing at me, snapt it. Alarmed at this rude salutation, I made a stand, and before he could adjust his other piece, fired one of mine at him, without doing any damage. By this time he was ready with his second, which flashed in the pan without going off: upon which he called with a true Tipperary cadence, "Fire away, honey,"—and be|gan to hammer his flint with great deliberation.—But I was resolved to make use of the advantage fortune had given me; and therefore stept up, without throwing away my fire, desiring him to ask his life, or prepare for ano|ther world; but this stout Hibernian refused to conde|scend, and complained bitterly of my having quitted my ground before he could return my shot, saying, I ought to go back to my station, and let him have an equal chance with me.—I endeavoured to persuade him that I had given him a double chance already; and it was my business to prevent him from enjoying a third;—but now, since I had an opportunity, I demanded a parley, and desired to know the condition, and reason for calling me to the field, who, to the best of my remembrance, so far from having done him an injury, had never before seen him.—He told me, that he was a gentleman of fortune, who had spent all he had, and hearing that Melinda had got ten thousand pounds, he intended to make himself master of that sum by espousing her, and was determined in an honourable way, to cut the throats of all those who stood between him and his hopes.—I then demanded to know the foundation of his hopes; and now that I had seen him, being more and more astonished at the circum|stance of the promise, desired he would explain that my|stery.—He gave me to understand that he trusted entirely to his birth and personal merit; that he had frequently written to Melinda, setting forth his claim and pretensions, but she was never kind enough to send an answer, or even

to admit him into her presence; and that the promise he mentioned in his letter was made by his friend Mr. Gag|hagan, who assured him, that no woman could resist a man of his appearance. I could not forbear laughing to excess at the simplicity of my rival, who did not seem to relish my mirth, but began to be very serious: upon which I endeavoured to appease him by giving him my word and honour, that so far from prejudicing his addresses to the lady, I would represent him to her in the most fa|vourable light I could, with any regard to truth; but he must not be surprised if she should remain blind to his de|serts, for nothing was more capricious than a woman's mind, and the affection of that sex was seldom purchased with virtue alone.—That my declaration might have the better effect, I took notice of his dishabille, and profes|sing sorrow at seeing a gentleman reduced, slipped two guineas into his hand, at the sight of which he threw away his pistols, and hugging me in his arms, cried,

Arrah, by Jesus, now you are the best friend I have met with these seven long years.

—When I had suffer|ed some minutes in his embrace, he quitted me, and picking up his rusty arms, wished the devil might burn him, if ever he should give me any further trouble about womankind.

The quarrel being thus amicably composed, I begged leave to look at his pistols, which I found so crazy and so foul, that I believe it was happy for him neither of them was discharged, for one of them would certainly have split in the going off, and he would in all probability have lost his hand in the explosion; but what gave me a lively idea of the man's character was to find upon exami|nation, that one of them had been loaded without being primed, and the other primed without a charge.

While we walked homeward together, I expressed a de|sire of knowing my new friend's history; and he informed me of his having served in the German army as a volun|teer 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Turks; that for his behaviour at the siege of Belgrade, he had been honoured with an ensign's com|mission, and afterwards promoted to the rank of lieute|nant, in which station, it was his misfortune to affront his captain, who challenged him to the field, and was killed in the duel, upon which he was obliged to retreat;—that

he had been in England some years soliciting his friends for provision in the British army; but being hitherto un|successful, he was desired by Mr. Gaghagan to turn his thoughts to matrimony, and make his fortune by an ad|vantageous match; in consequence of which advice he had made up to Melinda; and having heard by means of an Irish footman in the family, that I was her chief favour|ite, had called me out, in hopes of removing, by my death, the greatest obstruction to his desires; but now he was convinced of my honour and generosity, he swore by the blessed Virgin, he would think of her no more if there was not another woman in the world.—As a further proof of his veracity, which I did not at all doubt, he opened an old iron snuff-box, and pulled out his commission in the Imperial army, and his captain's challenge, which he preserved as testimonials of his character.—I was so well convinced of this poor man's honesty and courage, that I determined to speak in his behalf to some of my acquaint|ance, who might recommend his case to the consideration of those who could provide for him; and in the mean time to accommodate him with a few clothes, by which his appearance would be much mended, and himself ena|bled to renew 〈◊〉〈◊〉 solicitations in person.

As we walked along conversing sociably together, we were met by a file of musqueteers, and Strap at their head, who no sooner approached, than with a frantic look, he cried,

Seize them!—In the name of God! seize them!

—We were accordingly surrounded, and I put in arrest by the corporal, who was commanding of|ficer; but Captain O'Regan disengaged himself, and ran with such speed towards Tottenham-court road, that he was out of ••ight in a moment. When my arms were de|livered up, and myself secured, Strap became a little more composed, and asked pardon for the liberty he had taken, which he hoped I would excuse, as it proceeded from his affection; he then told me, that, suspecting the letter (which by the bye was brought by the author himself) contained something extraordinary, he had peeped through the key-hole, and seen me load my pistols; upon which he ran down to Whitehall, and applied to the officer on guard for a party to put me in arrest; but before he re|turned, I was gone in a coach; that he had inquired

which way I went, and having heard that duels were com|monly fought at the back of Montague-house, ••e con|ducted the guard to this place, where he thanked God for having found me safe and sound. I gave him to under|stand that I forgave his officious concern for once, but cau|tioned him in pretty severe terms from making me the subject of idle conversation for the future; then turning to the corporal, thanked him for his care, and gave him a crown to drink with his men, assuring him that the ren|contre was over long before he came up, and every thing compromised, as he might have observed by our behavi|our; as a farther proof of which, he would find upon ex|amination, that one of my pistols had been discharged; but this civil person, without giving himself or me any further trouble, received the bounty with a thousand bows and acknowledgments, and returning the pistols released me immediately.

He was not gone an hundred yards when my friend O'Regan came up, in order to rescue me, with two Tat|terdemalions whom he had engaged for that purpose, about the purlieus of St. Giles's: one of them was armed with a musket that wanted a lock, and another with a rusty broad-sword; but their dress surpassed all descrip|tion.—When he understood I was already free, he made an apology for his abrupt departure, and introduced me to his two companions: first, to Counsellor Fitzclab|ber, who, he told me, was then employed in compiling a history of the kings of Munster, from Irish manuscripts; and then to his friend Mr. Gaghagan, who was a profound philosopher and politician, and had projected many ex|cellent schemes for the good of his country.—But it seems these literati had been very ill rewarded for their ingeni|ous labours; for between them both, there was but one shirt, and half a pair of breeches.—I thanked them very kindly for their readiness to assist me, and having offered my service in my turn, bade them a good-morrow, de|siring O'Regan to accompany me to my lodgings, where he was fitted with decent clothes from my wardrobe, so much to his satisfaction, that he swore eternal gratitude and friendship to me, and, at my request, recounted all the adventures of his life.

In the afternoon, I waited on Melinda, who received

me with great kindness and familiarity, and laughed ex|cessively at my adventure with the Irishman, to whose wishes she was no stranger, having more than a dozen letters in her possession, which he had wrote to her on the subject of love, and which, for my entertainment, she sub|mitted to my perusal.—Having made ourselves merry at the expence of this poor admirer, I seized the opportuni|ty of her mother's going out of the room, and introduced my own passion, which I recommended to her with all the ardour and eloquence I was master of.—I flattered, sigh|ed, swore, intreated, and acted a thousand extravagancies in hopes of making some impression on her heart; but she heard every thing I said without discovering the least emotion; and other company came in, before she would vouchsafe one serious reply.—After tea, the cards were brought in, according to custom, and it was my good fortune to have Melinda for my partner; by which means, instead of losing, I came off with five guineas clear gain.

I soon became acquainted with a good many people of fashion, and spent my time in the modish diversions of the town, such as plays, operas, masquerades, drums, assem|blies and puppet shows: chiefly in company with Melin|da, whom I cultivated with all the eagerness and address that my prospect could inspire, and my education afford: I spared neither my person nor my purse, to gratify her vanity and pride; my rivals were intimidated, and indeed outshone; and, after all, I began to fear that the dear creature had not a heart to lose.—At last, finding myself unable to support the expence of this amour much longer, I was determined to bring the matter to a crisis; and one evening, while we were téte a téte, complained of her in|difference, described the tortures of suspence to a love|sick mind, and pressed her to disclose her sentiments of matrimony and me, with such earnestness, that she could not with all her art shift the subject; but was obliged to come to an eclaircissement.—She told me with a care|less air, that she had no objection to my person, and if I could satisfy her mother in other particulars, I should not find her averse to the match; but she was resolved to do nothing in an affair of such momentous concern, with|out the advice and consent of her parent.—This was not a very agreeable declaration to me, whose aim had been

to win her inclination first, and then secure my conquest by a private marriage, to which I flattered myself she would express no reluctance—That I might not, howe|ver, desert my cause before it was desperate, I waited on her mother, and with great formality demanded the daughter in marriage: the good lady, who was a very notable woman, behaved with great state and civility; thanked me for the honour I intended her family, and said, she did not doubt but that I was in all respects qualifi|ed to make a woman happy; but it concerned her as a pa|rent, anxious about the welfare of her child, to inquire into the particulars of my fortune, and know what settle|ment I proposed to make. To this information, which would have utterly disconcerted me, if I had not expect|ed it, I replied without hesitation, that though my for|tune was very small, I was a gentleman by birth and edu|cation, would maintain her daughter in the sphere of a gentlewoman, and settle her own dowry on her and her heirs for ever.—This careful matron did not seem to relish my proposal, but observed with a demure countenance, that there was no necessity for settling that upon her child which was her own already: however, if I pleased, her lawyer should confer with mine upon the matter; and in the mean time, she desired I would favour her with the perusal of my rent-roll.—Notwithstanding the vexa|tion I was under, I could scarce forbear laughing in her face at the mention of my rent-roll, which was indeed a severe satire upon my pretensions. I frankly owned I had no landed estate: and told her, that I could not exactly specify the sum I was master of, until I had regu|lated my affairs, which were at present in some disorder; but that I would take an opportunity of satisfying her on that head very soon.

It was not long before I took my leave; and returned to my lodgings in a very melancholy mood, persuaded that I had nothing more to expect from that quarter: I was confirmed in this opinion next day, when I went back with a view of explaining myself more fully to the old gentlewoman; and was told by the footman that his la|dies were not at home, although I had seen Melinda through the blinds at a parlour window, as I went up to the door. Incensed at this ••ffront, I quitted the door,

without saying one word, and as I repassed the parlour, bowed to Miss, who still remained in the same situation, securely screened, as she thought, from my view.

This disappointment gave me more uneasiness on Strap's account than my own; for I was in no danger of dying for love of Melinda; on the contrary, the remembrance of my charming Narcissa was a continual check upon my conscience, during the whole course of my addresses; and perhaps contributed to the bad success of my scheme, by controuling my raptures, and condemning my design.

There was a necessity for informing my companion of every thing that happened to me, and I performed this piece of duty in an affected passion, swearing I would be his pack horse no longer, and desiring him to take the management of his affairs into his own hands. This finesse had the desired effect, for instead of grumbling over my miscarriage, Strap was frightened at the passion I feign|ed, and begged me for the love of God to be appeased; observing, that although we had suffered a great loss, it was not irreparable; and if fortune frowned to-day, she might perhaps smile to-morrow.—I pretended to acquiesce in his remarks, praised his equanimity, and promised to improve by misfortune.—He, on the other hand, pretended to be perfectly well satisfied with my conduct, and con|jured me to follow the dictates of my own reflection; but in spite of all his affectation, I could perceive his inward affliction, and his visage sensibly increased in longitude from that day.

CHAP. XIV.

I long to be revenged on Melinda—apply to Banter for his assistance—he contrives a scheme for that purpose, which is put in execution with great success—I make an attempt on the heart of Miss Gripewell, but am disappointed—grow melancholy at my disappointment, and have recourse to the bottle—receive a billet-doux—am ravished with the contents—find myself involved in an intrigue, which I imagined would make my fortune—am confounded at my mistake which banishes all thoughts of matrimony.

IN the mean time my attention was wholly engrossed in search of another mistress, and the desire of being

re|venged on Melinda, in both which schemes I was very much assisted by Billy Chatter, who was such a necessary creature among the ladies, that in all private dances he engaged the men. To him therefore I applied, desiring he would introduce me to a partner of some figure, at the next private assembly, for the sake of a frolic, the inten|tion of which I would afterwards communicate. Billy, who had heard something of a difference between Melinda and me, immediately smoked part of my design, and, thinking I only wanted to alarm her jealousy a little, pro|mised to gratify my desire by matching me with a partner worth thirty thousand pounds, whom the ladies of this end of the town had lately taken into their management and protection. Upon farther inquiry, I found this per|son's name was Miss Biddy Gripewell; that her father, who had been a pawn-broker, died intestate, by which means all his substance descended to his daughter, who was so little a favourite, that, could the old man have prevailed with his own rapacious disposition to part with as much money as would have paid the expence of a will, she would not have inherited the sixth part of his fortune; that during his life, so far from being educated in a way suitable to such great expectations, she was obliged to live like a servant wench, and do the most menial offices in the family. But his funeral was no sooner performed than she assumed the fine lady, and found so many people of both sexes to flatter, caress, and instruct her, that, for want of discretion and experience, she had grown insufferably vain and arrogant, and pretended to no less than a duke or earl at least for her husband; that she had the misfortune to be neglected by the English quality, but a certain poor Scottish lord was then making interest to be introduced to her acquaintance. In the mean time she was fallen into the hands of a notable lady, who had already disposed of her to a lieutenant of foot, a distant relation of her lady|ship, though miss as yet knew nothing of the affair; and lastly, that, if I proposed to dance with her, I must give him leave to represent me as a knight or foreign count at least. I was ravished at this piece of information, and consented for one night to personate a French marquis, that I might the easier fulfil my revenge.

Having made the appointment with Chatter, I went to

Banter's lodgings, as I had by this time conceived a great opinion of his penetration and knowledge; and, after I had enjoined secrecy, told him every circumstance of my disgrace with Melinda, and imparted the plan I had pro|jected to mortify that proud coquette, desiring his advice in improving, and assistance in executing the scheme. Nothing could be more agreeable to his misanthropical temper than an account of her behaviour and my resent|ment: he applauded my resolution, and proposed that I should not only provide myself with a proper partner, but also procure such an one for Miss Goosetrap as would in|fallibly entail upon her the ridicule of all her acquaint|ance: for this purpose he mentioned his barber, who, he said, was a great coxcomb lately come from Paris, whose absurd affectation and grimace would easily pass upon her for the sprightly politesse of a gentleman im|proved by travel. I hugged him for this hint, and he as|sured me, it would be no difficult matter to make him be|lieve, that Melinda, having seen him by accident, was captivated by his appearance, and longed for his acquaint|ance. He actually engaged him on this pretence, and painted his good fortune in such colours, that the poor shaver was quite beside himself with joy. He was imme|diately fitted with a tawdry suit of clothes belonging to Banter, and by him recommended to Chatter as a very pretty fellow just returned from his travels. Master Billy, who acted as a gentleman usher to a great many of the fair sex in and about town, undertook at once to bespeak Melinda in his behalf; and every thing happened accord|ing to my wish.

At the time appointed I appeared, dressed to the best advantage, and, in the character of a Marquis had the ho|nour of opening the ball with the rich heiress, who attract|ed the eyes of the whole company by the prodigious num|ber of jewels with which she was adorned. Among others, I perceived Melinda, who could no more conceal her envy than astonishment at my success: her curiosity was still more flagrant and tormenting; for she had never seen Miss Gripewell before; and Chatter, who alone could give her any satisfaction on that head, was engaged in conversation at the other end of the room. I observed her impatience, and exulted in her chagrin; and, after my partner was set,

took the opportunity of passing by her to make a flight bow without stopping, which completed my triumph and her indignation. She changed colour, bridled up, assumed an air of disdain, and flirted her fan with such fury that it went to pieces in a moment, to the no small entertainment of those who sat near and observed her.

At length the metamorphosed barber took her out, and acted his part with such ridiculous extravagance, that the mirth of the whole company was excited at his expence, and his partner so much ashamed, that, before the country dances began, she retired in great confusion, under pre|tence of being taken suddenly ill, and was followed by her gallant, who no doubt imagined her indisposition was no|thing but love, and laid hold of the occasion of conducting her home to comfort her with an assurance of his enter|taining a reciprocal passion. They were no sooner gone than an inquisitive whisper of "Who is he?" ran round the room, and Chatter could give them no other intelligence about him than that he was a man of fortune just returned from his travels: I, who alone was acquainted with his real quality, affected ignorance, well knowing, that female curiosity would not rest satisfied with such a general ac|count, and that the discovery would proceed with a better grace from any body than me.

Mean while I was tempted by the richness of the prize to practise upon Miss Gripewell's heart, but soon found it too well fortified with pride and indifference to yield to any efforts in my own character, and I neither would nor could preserve the title I had borrowed longer than that night.

As I expected, every thing came to light next day. The barber, in pure simplicity of heart, detected himself to Melinda, and discovered the foundation of his hopes; she sickened at the affront, and was ashamed to shew her face in public for many weeks after this accident. Poor Chat••er found it impossible to justify himself to her satis|faction, was in utter disgrace with Miss Gripewell for having imposed me upon her as a nobleman, and suffered very much in his character and influence among the ladies in general.

Finding my finances diminished more than one half, and my project as little advanced as on the first day of my ar|rival

in town, I began to despair of any success, and grew melancholy at the prospect of approaching want. To dis|pel the horrors of this fiend, I had recourse to the bottle, and kept more company than ever, I became particularly attached to the play-house, conversed with the actors be|hind the scenes, grew acquainted with a body of templars, and in a short time commenced a professed wit and critic. Indeed I may say without vanity, that I was much better qualified than any one of my companions, who were, ge|nerally speaking, of all the creatures I ever conversed with, the most ignorant and assuming. By means of these avo|cations I got the better of care, and learned to separate my ideas in such a manner, that, whenever I was attacked by a gloomy reflection, I could shove it aside, and call in some agreeable reverie to my assistance. This was not the case with Strap, who practised a thousand shifts to conceal the sorrow that preyed upon his carcase, and reduced him to the resemblance of a mere skeleton.

While I thus posted in a thoughtless manner towards po|verty, I one day received by the penny post a letter writ|ten in a woman's hand, containing a great many high|flown compliments, warm protestations of love, couched in a very poetical stile, an earnest desire of knowing whether or not my heart was engaged, by leaving an answer at a certain place, directed to R. B. and the whole subscribed "Your Incognita." I was transported with joy on read|ing the contents of this billet-doux, which I admired as a masterpiece of tenderness and elegance, and was already up to the ears in love with the author, whom my imagi|nation represented as a lady of fortune, in the bloom of youth and beauty. Elevated with this conjecture, I went to work, and exhausted my invention in composing an an|swer suitable to the sublimity of her stile, and the ardour of her sentiments, I expressed my admiration of her wit in terms the most hyperbolical, and while I acknowledged myself unworthy of her regard, declared myself enamoured of her understanding, and in the most pathetic manner implored the honour of an interview. Having finished this performance, and communicated it to Strap, who skipped about for joy, I dispatched him with it to the place ap|pointed, which was the house of a milliner not far from Bond-street, and desired him to keep watch near the door

for some time, that he might discover the person who should call for it. In less than an hour he returned with a joyful countenance, and told me that, soon after he bad delivered the letter, a chairman was called, to whom it was given, with directions to carry it to the house of a rich gentleman in the neighbourhood, whither he (Strap) followed him and saw it put into the hands of a waiting|woman, who paid the messenger and shut the door—that upon inquiry at an ale-house hard by, where he called for a pint of beer, he understood that the gentleman, to whom the house belonged, had an only daughter, very hand|some, who would inherit his whole estate, and who cer|tainly was the author of the billet I had received. I was of the same opinion, and, hugging myself in the happy prospect, dressed immediately, and passed in great state by the house that contained my unknown admirer—nor was my vanity disappointed; for I perceived a beautiful young creature standing at one of the windows of the dining|room, who, I imagined, observed me with more than common curiosity. That I might indulge her view, and at the same time feast my own, I affected to stop, and give orders to Strap in the street, just opposite to her station, by which means I had an opportunity of seeing her more distinctly, and of congratulating myself on having made a conquest of so much perfection. In a few minutes she retired, and I betook myself to the ordinary in a rapture of hope, which deprived me of my appetite for that meal, and sent me home in the evening to indulge my contem|plation.

Early next day I was favoured with another epistle from my unknown charmer, signifying her unutterable joy at the receipt of mine, which, while it made a tender of my heart, convinced her of the value of it; above all things, she professed extreme pleasure in finding me so much at|tached to her understanding, a circumstance that not only flattered her in the most sensible part, but at the same time argued my own sagacity. As for the interview I desired, she assured me, that I could not be more eager for such an occasion than she; but she must not only sacrifice a little more to decorum, but be satisfied of my honourable in|tentions, before she could grant that request: mean while she gave me to understand, that, although she might owe

some deference to the opinion of certain persons, she was resolved, in an affair that so nearly concerned her happi|ness, to consult her own inclination preferable to the ad|vice of the whole world, especially as she was urged to such condescension by no consideration of fortune, what she depended upon being her own without restriction or control. Struck with admiration at the philosophy and self-denial of my mistress, who seemed insensible of the beauty she possessed, and in particular ravished with that piece of intelligence by which I learned her fortune was independent, I resumed the pen, launched out into enco|miums on the dignity of her sentiments, affected to un|dervalue the charms of external beauty, pretended to ground my passion on the qualities of her mind, complain|ed of her rigour in sacrificing my repose to an over-scru|pulous regard to decorum, and declared the purity of my designs in the most solemn and pathetic vows. This per|formance, being sealed and directed, was sent to the place appointed by Strap, who, that we might be still the more confirmed in our belief, renewed his watch, and in a little time brought back the same information as before, with this addition, that Miss Sparkle, (the name of my sup|posed correspondent,) looking out at the window, no soon|er saw the messenger arrive than she shut the casement in a sort of beautiful confusion, and disappeared; eager, no doubt, to hear from the dear object of her love.

My doubts now vanished, the long-expected port ap|peared, and I looked upon myself as perfectly secure of that happiness I had been in quest of so long. After din|ner I sauntered in company with Dr. Wagtail to that part of the town in which my inamorata lived, and, as he was a mere register, inquired of him into the name, character, and fortune of every body who possessed a good house in the streets through which we passed. When it came to his turn to mention Sir John Sparkle, he represented him as a man of an immense estate, and narrow disposition, who mewed up his only child, a fine young lady, from the con|versation of mankind, under the strict watch and inspection of an old governante, who was either so honest, envious, or infatiable, that nobody had been as yet able to make her a friend, or get access to her charge, though numbers attempted it every day—not so much on account of her

expectations from her father, who, being a widower, might marry again, and have sons, as for a fortune of twelve thousand pounds left her by an uncle, of which she could not be deprived. This piece of news, exactly tallying with the last part of the letter I had been honour|ed with in the morning, had such an effect on me, that any man except Wagtail might have observed my emotion; but his attention was too much engrossed by the contem|plation of his own importance, to be affected with the de|portment of any other body, unless it happened to be so particular that he could not help taking notice of it.

When I had disengaged myself from him, whose con|versation grew insipid to me, I went home, and made Strap acquainted with the fruits of my researches. This faithful squire was almost ch••aked with transport, and even wept with joy, but whether on account of himself or me, I shall not pretend to determine. Next day a third billet-doux was brought to me, containing many expres|sions of tenderness, mingled with some affecting doubts about the artifice of man, the inconstancy of youth, and the jealousy often attending the most sincere passion, withal desiring I would excuse her, if she should try me a little longer, before she declared herself beyond the power of retracting. These interesting scruples added fuel to my flame, and impatience to my hope; I redoubled my com|plaints of her indifference, and pressed her to an assignation with such fervid entreaties, that in a few days she consent|ed to meet me at the house of that milliner, who had forwarded all my letters. During the interval between the date of her promise and the hour of appointment, my pride soared beyond all reason and description; I lost all remem|brance of the gentle Narcissa, and my thoughts were wholly employed in planning triumphs over the malice and contempt of the world.

At length the happy hour arrived; I flew to the place of rendezvous, and was conducted into an apartment, where I had not waited ten minutes when I heard the rust|ling of silk, and the sound of feet ascending the stairs: my heart took the alarm, and beat quick, my cheeks glowed, my nerves thrilled, and my knees shook with extasy! I perceived the door opening, saw a gold brocade petticoat advance, and sprang forward to embrace my charmer.—

Heaven and earth! how shall I paint my situation, when I found Miss Sparkle converted into a wrinkled hag turned of seventy! I was struck dumb with amazement, and pe|trified with horror! This ancient Urganda perceived my disorder, and, approaching with a languishing air, seized my hand, asking in a squeaking tone if I was indisposed? Her monstrous affectation completed the disgust I had conceived for her at first appearance, and it was a long time before I could command myself so much as to behave with common civility: at length, however, I recollected myself, and pronounced an apology for my behaviour, which, I said, proceeded from a dizziness that seized me all of a sudden. My hoary Dulcinea, who, no doubt, had been alarmed at my confusion, no sooner learned the cause, to which I now ascribed it, than she discovered her joy in a thousand amorous coquetries, and assumed the sprightly airs of a girl of sixteen. One while she ogled me with her dim eyes quenched in rheum; then, as if she was ashamed of that freedom, she affected to look down, blush, and play with her san, then toss her head, that I might not perceive a palsy that shook it, ask some childish questions with a lisping accent, giggle and grin with her mouth shut, to conceal the ravages of time upon her teeth, leer upon me again, sigh piteously, fling herself about in her chair to shew her agility, and act a great many more absur|dities that youth and beauty can alone excuse. Shocked as I was at my disappointment, my disposition was incapable of affronting any person who loved me; I therefore endea|voured to put a good face on the matter for the present, resolving to drop the whole affair as soon as I should get clear of her company; with this view I uttered some civil things, and in particular desired to know the name and condition of the lady who had honoured me so much. She told me her name was Withers; that she lived with Sir John Sparkle in quality of governess to his only daugh|ter, in which situation she had picked up a comfortable sufficiency to make her easy for life; that she had the plea|sure of seeing me at church, where my appearance and deportment made such an impression upon her heart, that she could enjoy no ease until she had enquired into my character, which she found so amiable in all respects, that she yielded to the violence of her inclination, and ventured

to declare her passion, with too little regard perhaps to the decorum of her sex; but she hoped I would forgive a trespass, of which I myself was, in some measure, the cause, and impute her intrusion to the irresistible dictates of love. No decayed rake ever-swallowed a bolus with more reluctance than I felt in making a reply suitable to this compliment, when, instead of the jewel, I found the crazy casket only in my power; and yet my hopes began to revive a little, when I considered, that, by carrying on the appearance of an intrigue with the duenna, I might possibly obtain access to her charge. Encouraged by this suggestion, my temper grew more serene; my reserve wore off: I talked en cavalier, and even made love to this an|tiquated coquette, who seemed extremely happy in her adorer, and spread all her allurements to make her ima|gined conquest more secure. The good woman of the house treated us with tea and sweatmeats, and afterwards withdrew, like a civil experienced matron as she was. Left thus to our mutual endearments, Miss Withers (for she was still a maiden) began to talk of matrimony, and ex|pressed so much impatience in all her behaviour, that, had she been fifty years younger, I might possibly have grati|fied her longing without having recourse to the church; but this my virtue as well as interest forbade. When the inclinations of an old maid settle upon a young fellow, he is persecuted with her addresses; but, should he once grant her the favour, he will never be able to disentangle himself from her importunities and reproaches. It was my busi|ness to defer the ceremony as long as possible, under the most specious pretences, with a view of becoming acquaint|ed with Miss Sparkle in the mean time; and I did not despair of success when I considered, that in the course of our correspondence I should, in all probability, be invited to visit my mistress in her own apartment, and by that means have an opportunity of conversing with her charm|ing ward. Pleased with this prospect, my heart dilated with joy, I talked in raptures to the stale governante, and kissed her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hand with great devotion. She was so much transported with her good fortune that she could not contain her extasy, but flew upon me like a tigress, and pressed her skinny lips to mine, when (as it was no doubt concerted by her evil genius) a dose of garlic she

〈◊〉〈◊〉 swallowed that morning to dispel wind, I suppose, began to operate with such a sudden explosion, that hu|•••••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 circumstanced as I was, could not endure the shook with any degree of temper. I lost all patience and reflection, flung away from her in an instant, snatched my hat and cane, and ran down stairs as if the Devil had me in pursuit, and could scarce restrain the convulsions of my bowels, which were greviously offended by the perfume that assaulted me. Strap, who waited my return with impatience, seeing me arrive in the utmost disorder, stood motionless with apprehension, and durst not inquire into the cause.

After I had washed my mouth more than once, and re|cruited my spirits with a glass of wine, I recounted to him every particular of what had happened; to which he made no other reply for some time, than lifting up his eyes, clasping his hands, and uttering a hollow groan.—At length he observed, in a melancholy tone, that it was a thousand pities my organs were so delicate as to be offend|ed with the smell of garlic: "Ah! God help us," said he,

'tis not the steams of garlic, no, nor of something else, that would give me the least uneasiness—see what it is to be a cobler's son.

—I replied hastily,

I wish then you would go and retrieve my miscarriage.

—At this he started, forced a smile, and left the room, shaking his head. Whether the old gentlewoman resented my abrupt departure so much, that her love changed into dis|dain, or was ashamed to see me on account of her infir|mity, I know not, but I was never troubled again with her passion.

CHAP. XV.

I cultivate an acquaintance with two noblemen—am intro|duced to Earl Strutwell—his kind promise and invita|tion—the behaviour of his porter and lackey—he receives me with an appearance of uncommon affection—undertakes to speak in my behalf to the minister—informs me of his success, and wishes me joy—introduces a conversation about Petronius Arbiter—falls in love with my watch, which I press upon him—I make a present of a diamond ring to Lord Straddle—impart my good fortune to Strap, and Banter who disabuses me, to my utter mortification.

BAFFLED hitherto in my matrimonial schemes, I began to question my talents for the science of for|tune-bunting, and to bend my thoughts towards some em|ployment under the government.—With the view of pro|curing which, I cultivated the acquaintance of Lords Straddle and Swillpot, whose fathers were men of interest at court.—I found these young noblemen as open to my advances as I could desire: I accompanied them in their midnight rambles, and often dined with them at taverns, where I had the honour of paying the reckoning.

I one day took the opportunity, while I was loaded with protestations of friendship, to disclose my desire of being settled in some sinecure, and to solicit their influ|ence in my behalf.—Swillpot squeezing my hand, said, I might depend upon his service, by G—d. The other swore that no man would be more proud than he to run my errands. Encouraged by these declarations, I ven|tured to express an inclination to be introduced to their fathers, who were able to do my business at once. Swill|pot frankly owned he had not spoke to his father these three years; and Straddle assured me his father having lately disobliged the minister by subscribing his name to a protest in the House of Peers, was thereby rendered inca|pable of serving his friends at present; but he undertook to make me acquainted with Earl Strutwell, who was hand and glove with a certain person who ruled the roast. This offer I embraced with many acknowledgments, and plied him so closely, in spite of a thousand evasions, that

he found himself under a necessity of keeping his word, and actually carried me to the levee of this great man, where he left me in a crowd of fellow-dependants, and was ushered to a particular closet audience; from whence in a few minutes he returned with his Lordship, who took me by the hand, assured me he would do me all the service he could, and desired to see me often.—I was charmed with my reception, and although I had heard that a courtier's promise was not to be depended upon, I thought I discovered so much sweetness of temper in this Earl's countenance, that I did not doubt of profiting by his protection. I resolved, therefore, to avail myself of his permission, and waited on him next audience-day, when I was favoured with a particular smile, squeeze of the hand, and a whisper, signifying that he wanted half an hour's conversation with me téte a téte, when he should be disengaged, and for that purpose desired me to come and drink a dish of chocolate with him to-morrow morn|ing.—This invitation, which did not a little flatter my vanity and expectation, I took care to observe, and went to his Lordship's house at the time appointed. Having rapped at the gate, the porter unbolted and kept it half open, placing himself in the gap, like soldiers in a breach, to dispute my passage. I asked if his lord was stir|ring?—He answered with a surly aspect, "No."—"At what hour does he commonly rise?" (said I.)—"Sometimes sooner, sometimes later," (said he, closing the door upon me by degrees.)—I then told him I was come by his Lordship's own appointment; to which this Cerberus replied,

I have received no orders about the matter;

and was upon the point of shutting me out, when I recollected myself all of a sudden, and slipping a crown into his hand, begged as a favour that he would enquire and let me know whether or not the Earl was up. The grim janitor relented at the touch of my money, which he took with all the indifference of a tax-gatherer, and shewed me into a parlour, where, he said, I might amuse myself till such time as his Lordship should be awake.—I had not sat ten minutes in this place, when a foot|man entered, and without speaking, stared at me. I in|terpreted this piece of his behaviour into

Pray, Sir, what is your business?

and asked the same question I

had put to the porter, when I accosted him first. The lackey made the same reply, and disappeared before I could get any further intelligence.—In a little while he re|turned on pretence of poking the fire, and looked at me again with great earnestness; upon which I began to per|ceive his meaning, and tipping him with half a crown, desired he would be so good as to fall upon some method of letting the Earl know that I was in the house.—He made a low bow, and said, "Yes, Sir," and vanished.—This bounty was not thrown away, for in an instant he came back, and conducted me to a chamber, where I was received with great kindness and familiarity by his Lord|ship, whom I found just risen, in his morning gown and slippers.—After breakfast, he entered into a particular conversation with me about my travels, the remarks I had made abroad, and examined me to the full extent of my understanding.—My answers seemed to please him very much, he frequently squeezed my hand, and look|ing at me with a singular complacency in his countenance, bid me depend upon his good offices with the ministry in my behalf. "Young men of your qualifications," said he,

ought to be cherished by every administration.—For my own part, I see so little merit in the world, that I have laid it down as a maxim, to encourage the least appearance of genius and virtue, to the utmost of my power.—You have a great deal of both; and will not fail of making a figure one day, if I am not mista|ken; but you must lay your account with mounting by gradual steps to the summit of your fortune.—Rome was not built in a day. As you understand the lan|guages perfectly well, how would you like to cross the sea, as secretary to an embassy?

—I assured his Lord|ship with great eagerness, that nothing could be more agreeable to my inclination: upon which he bid me make myself easy, my business was done, for he had a place of that kind in his view.—This piece of generosity affected me so much, that I was unable for some time to express my gratitude, which at length broke out in acknowledg|ments of my own unworthiness, and encomiums on his be|nevolence.—I could not even help shedding tears at the goodness of this noble Lord, who no sooner perceived them, than he caught me in his arms, hugged and kissed

me with a seemingly paternal affection.—Confounded at this uncommon instance of fondness for a stranger, I re|mained a few moments silent and ashamed, then rose and took my leave, after he had assured me that he would speak to the minister in my favour that very day, and de|sired that I would not for the future give myself the trou|ble of attending at his levee, but come at the same hour every day when he should be at leisure, which was three times a-week.

Though my hopes were now very sanguine, I determined to conceal my prospect from every body, even from Strap, until I should be more certain of success, and in the mean time give my patron no respite from my solicitations. When I renewed my visit, I found the street-door opened to me as if by enchantment; but, in my passage towards the presence-room, I was met by the valet de chambre, who cast some furious looks at me, the meaning of which I could not comprehend. The Earl saluted me at entrance with a tender embrace, and wished me joy of his success with the premier, who, he said, had preferred his recom|mendation to that of two other noblemen very urgent in behalf of their respective friends, and absolutely promised that I should go to a certain foreign court in quality of secretary to an ambassador and plenipotentiary, who was to set out in a few weeks on an affair of vast importance to the nation. I was thunderstruck with my good for|tune, and could make no other reply, than kneel and at|tempt to kiss my benefactor's hand, which he would not permit, but raising me up, pressed me to his breast with surprising emotion, and told me he had now taken upon himself the care of making my fortune.—What enhanced the value of the benefit still the more, was his making light of the favour, and shifting the conversation to ano|ther subject: among other topics of discourse, that of the Belle Lettres was introduced, upon which his Lordship held forth with great taste and erudition, and discovered an intimate knowledge of the authors of antiquity.—

Here's a book,

said he, taking one from his bosom,

writ|ten with great elegance and spirit, and though the sub|ject may giv•• offence to some narrow-minded people, the author will always be held in esteem by every per|son of wit and learning.

—So saying he put into my

hand Petronius Arbiter, and asked my opinion of his wit and manner.—I told him, that, in my opinion, he wrote with great ease and vivacity, but was withal so lewd and indecent, that he ought to find no quarter or protection among people of morals and taste.—"I own," replied the Earl,

that his taste in love is generally decried, and in|deed condemned by our laws; but perhaps that may be more owing to prejudice and misapprehension, than to true reason and deliberation.—The best man among the ancients is said to have entertained that passion; one of the wisest of their legislators has permitted the indulgence of it in his commonwealth; the most cele|brated poets have not scrupled to avow it at this day; it prevails not only over all the East, but in most parts of Europe; in our own country it gains ground apace, and in all probability will become in a short time, a more fashionable vice than simple fornication.—Indeed, there is something to be said in vindication of it; for notwithstanding the severity of the law against offend|ers in this way, it must be confessed that the practice of this passion is unattended with that curse and burden upon society, which proceeds from a race of miserable and deserted bastards, who are▪ either murdered by their parents, deserted to the utmost want and wretchedness, or bred up to prey upon the commonwealth; and it like|wise prevents the debauchery of many a young maiden, and the prostitution of honest mens wives; not to men|tion the consideration of health, which is much less liable to be impaired in the gratification of this appe|tite, than in the exercise of common venery, which by ruining the constitutions of our young men, has produ|ced a puny progeny that degenerates from generation to generation: nay, I have been told, that there is ano|ther motive perhaps more powerful than all these, that induces people to cultivate this inclination; namely, the exquisite pleasure attending its success.

From this discourse, I began to be apprehensive that his Lordship finding I had travelled, was afraid I might have been in••ected with this spurious and sordid desire abroad, and took this method of sounding my sentiments on the subject.—Fired at this supposed suspicion, I argu|ed against it with great warmth, as an appetite unnatu|ral,

absurd, and of pernicious consequence; and declared my utter detestation and abhorrence of it in these lines of the satyrist:

Eternal infamy the wretch confound, Who planted first this vice on British ground! A vice! that, 'spite of sense and nature, reigns, And poisons genial love, and manhood stains!

The Earl smiled at my indignation, told me he was glad to find my opinion of the matter so conformable to his own, and that what he had advanced was only to provoke me to an answer, with which he professed himself perfectly well pleased.

After I had enjoyed a long audience, I happened to look at my watch, in order to regulate my motions by it: and his lordship, observing the chased case, desired to see the device, and examine the execution, which he approved with some expressions of admiration. Considering the ob|ligations I lay under to his lordship, I thought there could not be a fitter opportunity than the present to manifest in some shape my gratitude; I therefore begged he would do me the honour to accept of the watch as a small testi|mony of the sense I had of his Lordship's generosity; but he refused it in a peremptory manner, and said he was sorry I should entertain such a mercenary opinion of him, observing at the same time, that it was the most beautiful piece of workmanship he had ever seen, and desiring to know where he could have such another. I begged a thousand pardons for the freedom I had taken, which I hoped he would impute to nothing else than the highest veneration for his person—told him that, as it came to my hand by accident in France, I could give him no information about the maker; for there was no name on the inside; and once more humbly entreated, that he would indulge me so far as to use it for my sake. He was still positive in refusing it, but was pleased to thank me for my generous offer, saying, it was a present that no noble|man need be ashamed of receiving, though he was resolved to shew his disinterestedness with regard to me, for whom he had conceived a particular friendship, and insisted (if I was willing to part with the watch) upon knowing what it cost, that he might at least indemnify me by refunding

the money. On the other hand I assured his lordship, that I should look upon it as an uncommon mark of distinction, if he would take it without farther question; and, rather than disoblige me, he was at last persuaded to put it in his pocket, to my no small satisfaction, who took my leave immediately, after having received a kind squeeze, and an injunction to depend on his promise.

Buoyed up with this reception, my heart opened; I gave away a guinea among the lacqueys who escorted me to the door, flew to the lodgings of Lord Straddle upon whom I forced my diamond ring as an acknowledgment for the great service he had done me, and from thence hied myself home, with an intent of sharing my happiness with honest Strap. I determined, however, to heighten his pleasure by depressing his spirits at first, and then bringing in the good news with double relish. For this purpose I affected the appearance of disappointment and chagrin, and told him in an abrupt manner, that I had lost the watch and diamond. Poor Hugh, who had been already harrassed into a consumption by intelligence of this sort, no sooner heard these words than, unable to contain himself, he cried with distraction in his looks,

God in heaven forbid!

—I could carry on the farce no longer, but, laughing in his face, told him every thing that had passed as before recited. His features were immediately un|bended, and the transition so affecting, that he wept with joy, calling my Lord Strutwell by the appellations of jewel, phoenix, rara avis, and praising God, that there was still some virtue among our nobility. Our mutual con|gratulations being over, we gave way to our imagination, and anticipated our happiness by prosecuting our success through the different steps of promotion, till I arrived at the rank of prime minister, and he to that of my first secretary.

Intoxicated with these ideas, I went to the ordinary, where, meeting with Banter, I communicated the whole affair in confidence to him, concluding with an assurance, that I would do him all the service in my power. He heard me to an end with great patience, then, regarding me a good while with a look of disdain, pronounced, "So, your business is done, you think!"—

As good as done, I believe,

said I. "I'll tell you," replied he,

what will do it more effectually—a halter—'Sdeath! if I had been such a gull to two such scoundrels as Strut|well and Straddle, I would without any more ado tuck myself up.

Shocked at this exclamation, I desired him, with some confusion, to explain himself: upon which he gave me to understand, that Straddle was a poor con|temptible wretch, who lived by borrowing, and pimping for his fellow peers; that, in consequence of this last ca|pacity, he had doubtless introduced me to Strutwell, who was so notorious for a passion for his own sex, that he was amazed his character had never reached my ears; and that so far from being able to obtain for me the post he had promised, his interest at court was so low, that he could scarce provide for a superannuated footman once a-year in the customs or excise;—that it was a common thing for him to amuse strangers, whom his jackals run down, with such assurances and caresses as he had bestowed on me, until he had stripped them of their cash, and every thing valuable about them, very often of their chastity, and then leave them a prey to want and infamy—that he allowed his ser|vants no other wages than that part of the spoil which they could glean by their industry—and that the whole of his conduct towards me was so glaring, that nobody who knew any thing of mankind could have been imposed upon by his insinuations.

I leave the reader to judge how I relished this piece of information, which precipitated me from the most exalted pinnacle of hope to the lowest abyss of despondence, and well nigh determined me to take Banter's advice, and finish my chagrin with a halter. I had no room to suspect the veracity of my friend, because, upon recollection, I found every circumstance of Strutwell's behaviour exactly tal|lying with the character he had described: his hugs, em|braces, squeezes, and eager looks, were now no longer a mystery—no more than his defence of Petronius, and the jealous frown of his valet de chambre, who, it seems, had been the favourite pathic of his lord.

CHAP. XVI.

I attempt to recover my watch and jewel, but to no purpose—resolve to revenge myself on Strutwell by my importunity—am reduced to my last guinea—obliged to inform Strap of my necessity, who is almost distracted with the news—but nevertheless obliged to pawn my best sword for present sub|sistence—that small supply being exhausted, I am almost stupified with my misfortune—go to the gaming-table by the advice of Banter, and come off with unexpected suc|cess—Strap's extasy—Mrs. Gawky waits upon me, pro|fesses remorse for her perfidy, and implores my assistance—I do myself a piece of justice by her means, and after|wards reconcile her to her father.

I WAS so confounded that I could make no reply to Ban|ter, who reproached me with great indignation for having thrown away upon rascals that, which, had it been converted into ready money, would have supported the rank of a gentleman for some months, and enabled me at the same time to oblige my friends. Stupified as I was, I could easily divine the source of his concern, but sneaked away in a solitary manner, without yielding the least an|swer to his expostulations, and began to deliberate with myself in what manner I should attempt to retrieve the moveables I had so foolishly lost. I should have thought it no robbery to take them again by force, could I have done it without any danger of being detected; but, as I could have no such opportunity, I resolved to work by finesse, and go immediately to the lodgings of Straddle, where I was so fortunate as to find him.—"My Lord," said I,

I have just now recollected, that the diamond I had the honour of presenting to you is loosened in the socket, and there is a young fellow just arrived from Paris, who is reckoned the best jeweller in Europe; I knew him in France; and, if your Lordship will give me leave, I will carry the ring to him to be set to rights.

His lordship was not to be caught in the snare—he thanked me for my offer, and told me, that, having himself observed the defect, he had already sent it to his own jeweller to be mended: and indeed, by

this time, I believe it was in the jeweller's hands, though not in order to be mended; for it stood in need of no al|teration.

Baulked in this piece of politics, I cursed my simplicity, but resolved to play a surer game with the earl, which I thus devised. I did not doubt of being admitted into fa|miliar conversation with him as before, and hoped by some means to get the watch into my hand, then, on pretence of winding or playing with it, drop it on the floor, which in all probability would disorder the work so as to stop its motion. This event would furnish me with an opportunity of insisting upon carrying it away in order to be repaired; and had this happened, I should have been in no hurry to bring it back. What pity it was I could not find an oc|casion of putting this fine scheme in execution! When I went to renew my visit to his lordship, my access to the parlour was a•• free as ever; but, after I had waited some time, the valet de chambre came in with his lord's com|pliments, and a desire to see me to-morrow at his levee, being at present so much indisposed that he could not see company. I interpreted his message into a bad omen, and came away, muttering curses against his lordship's polite|ness, and ready to go to loggerheads with myself for being so egregriously 〈◊〉〈◊〉. But, that I might have some satis|faction for the loss I had sustained, I besieged him closely at his levee, and persecuted him with my solicitations, not without faint hopes, indeed, of reaping something more from my industry than the bare pleasure of making him uneasy, though I could never obtain another private hearing during the whole course of my attendance; nei|ther had I resolution enough to undeceive Strap, whose looks in a little time were so whetted with impatience, that whenever I came home, his eyes devoured me, as it were, with eagerness of attention.

At length, however, finding myself reduced to my last guinea, I was compelled to disclose my necessity, though I endeavoured to sweeten the discovery by rehearsing to him the daily assurances I received from my patron. But these promises were not of efficacy sufficient to support the spirits of my friend, who no sooner understood the lowness of my finances than, uttering a dreadful groan, he ex|claimed, "In the name of God, what shall we do?" In

order to comfort him, I said that many of my acquaint|ance, who were in a worse condition than we, supported, notwithstanding, the character and appearance of gentle|men, and advising him to thank God, that we had as yet incurred no debt, proposed he should pawn my sword of steel inlaid with gold, and trust to my discretion for the rest. This expedient was wormwood and gall to poor Strap, who, in spite of his invincible affection for me, still retained notions of economy and expence suitable to the narrowness of his education; nevertheless, he complied with my request, and raised seven pieces on the sword in a twinkling. This supply, inconsiderable as it was, made me as happy for the present as if I had five hundred pounds in bank; for by this time I was so well skilled in procrastinating every troublesome reflection, that the pro|spect of want seldom affected me very much, let it be ever so near: and now, indeed, it was nearer than I imagined; for my landlord, having occasion for money, put me in mind of my being indebted to him five guineas in lodging, and, telling me that he had a sum to make up, begged I would excuse his importunity, and discharge the debt. Though I could ill spare so much cash, my pride took the resolution of disbursing it, which I did in a cavalier man|ner, after he had written a discharge, telling him with an air of scorn and resentment, I saw he was resolved that I should not be long in his books, while Strap, who stood by, and knew my circumstances, wrung his hands in se|cret, gnawed his nether lip, and turned yellow with de|spair. Whatever appearance of indifference my vanity enabled me to put on, I was thunderstruck with this de|mand, which I had no sooner satisfied than I hastened into company, with a view of beguiling my cares with conver|sation, or drowning them in wine.

After dinner accordingly a party was made in the cof|fee-house, from whence we adjourned to the tavern, where instead of sharing the mirth of the company, I was as much chagrined at their good humour as a damned soul in hell would be at a glimpse of heaven.—In vain did I swallow bumper after bumper! the wine had lost its effect upon me, and so far from raising my dejected spirits, could not ••ven lay me asleep.—Banter who was the only inti|mate I had, (Strap excepted,) perceived my anxiety, and

when we broke up, reproached me with pusillanimity, for being cast down at any disappointment that such a rascal as Strutwell could be the occasion of.—I told him I did not at all see how Strutwell's being a rascal alleviated my misfortune: and gave him to understand, that my present grief did not so much proceed from that disappointment, as from the low ebb of my fortune, which was sunk to something less than two guineas.—At this declaration he cried, "Pshaw! is that all?" and assured me there were a thousand ways of living in town without fortune, he himself having subsisted many years entirely by his wit.—I expressed my eager desire of being acquainted with some of these methods, and he, without further expostulation, bid me follow him.—He conducted me to a house under the piazzas in Covent Garden, which we entered, and having delivered our swords to a grim fellow, who de|manded them at the foot of the stair-case, ascended to the second story, where I saw multitudes of people standing round two gaming tables, loaded in a manner with gold and silver.—My conductor let me know that this was the house of a worthy Scotch lord, who using the privilege of his peerage, had set up a public gaming table, from the profits of which he drew a comfortable livelihood.—He then explained the difference between the sitters and the betters; characterized the first as old rooks, and the last as bubbles; and advised me to try my fortune at the silver table, by betting a crown at a time.—Before I would venture any thing, I considered the company more particularly, and there appeared such a group of villain|ous faces, that I was struck with horror and astonishment at the sight! I signified my surprise to Banter, who whispered in my ear, that the bulk of those present were sharpers, highwaymen, and apprentices, who having em|bezzled their master's cash, made a desperate push in this place, to make up their deficiencies.—This account did not encourage me to hazard any part of my small pit|tance: but at length being teized by the importunities of my friend, who assured me there was no danger of being ill used, people being hired by the owner to see justice done to every body; I began by risking one shilling, and in less th••n an hour, my winning amounted to thirty.—Convinced by this time of the fairness of the game, and

animated with success, there was no need for any further persuasion to continue the play; I lent Banter (who sel|dom had any money in his pocket) a guinea, which he carried to the gold table and lost in a moment.—He would have borrowed another, but finding me deaf to his argu|ments, went away in a pet.—Mean while my gain advan|ced to six pieces, and my desire of more increased in pro|portion; so that I moved to the higher table, where I laid half a guinea on every throw, and fortune still fa|vouring me, I became a sitter, in which capacity I re|mained until it was broad day; when I found myself, af|ter many vicissitudes, one hundred and fifty guineas in pocket.

Thinking it now high time to retire with my booty, I asked if any body would take my place, and made a mo|tion to rise; upon which an old Gascon, who sat opposite to me, and of whom I had won a little money, started up with fury in his looks, crying,

Restez, foutre, restez, il faut donner moi mon ranvanchio!

At the same time a Jew, who sat near the other, insinuated, that I was more beholden to art than fortune, for what I had got; that he had observed me wipe the table very often, and that some of the divisions seemed to be greasy. This intima|tion produced a great deal of clamour against me, espe|cially among the losers, who threatened with many oaths and imprecations, to take me up by a warrant as a sharp|er, unless I would compromise the affair by refunding the greatest part of my winning.—Though I was far from being easy under this accusation, I relied upon my inno|cence, threatened in my turn to prosecute the Jew for de|famation, and boldly offered to submit my cause to the examination of any justice in Westminster; but they knew themselves too well to put their characters on that issue, and finding I was not to be intimidated into any conces|sion, dropped their plea, and made way for me to with|draw. I would not however stir from the table until the Israelite had retracted what he had said to my disadvan|tage, and asked pardon before the whole assembly.

As I marched out with my prize, I happened to tread upon the toes of a tall, raw-boned fellow, with a hooked nose, fierce eyes, black thick eye-brows, a pig-tail wig of the same colour, and a formidable hat pulled over his

forehead, who stood gnawing his singers in the crowd, and no sooner felt the application of my shoe-heel, than he roared out in a tremendous voice,

Blood and wounds, you son of a whore! what's that for?

—I asked par|don with a great deal of submission, and protested I had no intention of hurting him; but the more I humbled myself the more he stormed, and insisted upon gentleman|ly satisfaction, at the same time provoking me with scan|dalous names, that I could not put up with; so that I gave a loose to my passion, returned his Billingsgate, and challenged him to follow me down to the piazzas.—His indignation cooled as mine warmed, he refused my invi|tation, saying, he would chuse his own time, and return|ed towards the table muttering threats, which I neither dreaded nor distinctly heard; but descending with great deliberation, received my sword from the door-keeper, whom I gratified with a guinea according to the custom of the place, and went home in a rapture of joy.

My faithful valet, who had sat up all night in the ut|most uneasiness on my account, let me in with his face be|slubbered with tears, and followed me to my chamber, where he stood silent like a condemned criminal, in ex|pectation of hearing that every shilling was spent.—I gues|sed the situation of his thoughts, and assuming a sullen look, bid him fetch me some water to wash.—He replied, without lifting his eyes from the ground,

In my simple conjecture, you have more occasion for rest, not having, I suppose, slept these four and twenty hours.

—

Bring me some water,

(said I in a peremptory tone;) upon which he sneaked away, shrugging his shoulders. Before he returned, I had spread my whole stock on the table in the most ostentations manner; so that when it first saluted his view, he stood like one intranced, and having rubbed his eyes more than once, to assure himself of his being awake, broke out into,

Lord have mercy upon us, what a vast treasure is here?

—

'Tis all our own, Strap,

said I,

take what is necessary, and redeem the sword immediately.

—He advanced towards the table, stopt short by the way, looked at the money and me by turns, and with a wildness in his countenance, pro|duced from joy checked by distrust, cried,

I dare say it is honestly come by.

—To remove his scruples, I made

him acquainted with the whole story of my success, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hearing of which, he danced about the room, in an exta|sy, crying,

God be praised!—a white stone! God be praised! a white stone!

—so that I was afraid the sudden change of fortune had disordered his intellects, and that he was run mad with joy.—Extremely concern|ed at this event, I attempted to reason him out of his frenzy, but to no purpose, for without regarding what I said, he continued to frisk up and down, and repeat his rhapsody of, "God be praised! a white stone!" At last I rose in the utmost consternation, and laying violent hands upon him, put a stop to his extravagance, by fix|ing him down to a settee that was in the room.—This constraint banished his delirium; he started, as if just awoke, and, terrified at my behaviour, cried,

What is the matter?

When he learned the cause of my appre|hension, he was ashamed of his transports, and told me, that in mentioning the white stone, he alluded to the Dies fasti of the Romans, albo lapide notati.

Having no inclination to sleep, I secured my cash, dressed, and was just going abroad, when the servant of the house told me, there was a gentlewoman at the door who wanted to speak with me. Surprised at this infor|mation, I bid Strap show her up, and in less than a mi|nute saw a young woman of a shabby decayed appearance enter my room. After half a dozen curt'sies, she began to sob, and told me her name was Gawky; upon which I immediately recollected the features of Miss Lavement, who had been the first occasion of my misfortunes.—Though I had all the reason in the world to resent her treacherous usage of me, I was moved at her distress, and, professing my sorrow at seeing her so reduced, desired her to sit, and inquired into the particulars of her situation. She fell upon her knees, and implored my forgiveness for the injuries she had done me, protesting before God, that she was forced against her inclination into that hellish con|spiracy, which had almost deprived me of my life, by the entreaties of her husband, who, having been afterwards renounced by his father on account of his marriage with her, and unable to support a family on his pay, left his wife at her father's house, and went with the regiment to Germany, where he was broke for misbehaviour at the

battle of Dettingen, since which time she had heard no tidings of him. She then gave me to understand, with many symptoms of penitence, that it was her misfortune to bear a child four months after marriage, by which her parents were so incensed, that she was turned out of doors with the infant, that died soon after, and had hitherto subsisted, in a miserable indigent manner, on the extorted charity of a few friends, who were now quite tired of giving; that, not knowing where or how to support her|self one day longer, she had fled for succour even to me, who of all mankind had the least cause to assist her, relying upon the generosity of my disposition, which, she hoped, would be pleased with this opportunity of avenging itself in the noblest manner on the wretch who had wronged me.—I was very much affected with her discourse, and having no cause to suspect the sincerity of her repentance, raised her up, freely pardoned all she had done against me, and promised to befriend her as much as lay in my power.

Since my last arrival in London, I had made no ad|vances to the apothecary, imagining it would be impos|sible for me to make my innocence appear, so unhappily was my accusation circumstanced: Strap indeed had la|boured to justify me to the schoolmaster; but so far from succeeding in his attempt, Mr. Concordance dropt all cor|respondence with him, because he refused to quit his connection with me.—Things being in this situation, I thought a fairer opportunity of vindicating my character could not offer, than that which now presented itself; therefore stipulated with Mrs. Gawky, that before I yield|ed her the least assistance, she should do me the justice to clear my reputation, by explaining upon oath before a magistrate, the whole of the conspiracy, as it had been executed against me.—When she had given me this satis|faction, I presented her with five guineas, a sum so much above her expectation, that she could scarce believe the evidence of her senses, and was ready to worship me for my benevolence.—The declaration, signed with her own hand, I sent to her father, who, upon recollecting and comparing the circumstances of my charge, was convinced of my integrity, and waited on me next day, in company with his friend the schoolmaster, to whom he had commu|nicated

my vindication.—After mutual salutation Mon|sieur Lavement began a long apology for the unjust treat|ment I received; but I saved him a good deal of breath, by interrupting his harangue, and assuring him, that so far from entertaining any resentment against him, I thought myself obliged to his lenity, which allowed me to escape, after such strong presumptions of guilt appear|ed against me. Mr. Concordance thinking it now his turn to speak, observed, that Mr. Random had too much candour and sagacity to be disobliged at their conduct, which, all things considered, could not have been other|wise, with any honesty of intention, "Indeed," said he,

if the plot had been unravelled to us by any supernatu|ral intelligence; if ••t had been whispered by a genie, communicated by a dream, or revealed by an angel from on high, we should have been to blame in credit|ing ocular demonstration; but as we were left in the mist of mortality, it cannot be expected we should be incapable of imposition.—I do assure you, Mr. Ran|dom, no man on earth is more pleased than I am at the triumph of your character: and as the news of your misfortune panged me to the very entrails, this mani|festation of your innocence makes my midrif quiver with joy.

—I thanked him for his concern, desired them to undeceive those of their acquaintance who judged harshly of me, and having treated them with a glass of wine, represented to Lavement the deplorable condition of his daughter, and pleaded her cause so effectually, that he consented to settle a small annuity on her for life; but could not be persuaded to take her home, because her mo|ther was so much incensed that she would never see her.

CHAP. XVII.

I purchase new clothes—reprimand Strutwell and Strad|dle—Banter proposes another matrimonial scheme—I ac|cept of his terms—set out for Bath in the stage coach, with the young lady and her mother—the behaviour of an officer and a lawyer, our fellow-travellers described—a smart dialogue between my mistress and the captain.

HAVING finished this affair to my satisfaction, I ••ound myself perfectly at ease, and, looking upon the

gaming-table as a certain resource for a gentleman in want, became more gay than ever. Although my clothe•• were almost as good as new, I grew ashamed of wearing them, because I thought every body by this time had got an inventory of my wardrobe: for which reason I disposed of a good part of my apparel to a salesman in Monmouth street for half the value, and bought two new suits with the money: I likewise purchased a plain gold watch, des|pairing of recovering that which I had so foolishly given to Strutwell, whom, notwithstanding, I still continued to visit at his levee, until the ambassador he had mentioned set out with a secretary of his own chusing. I thought myself then at liberty to expostulate with his lordship, whom I treated with great freedom in a letter for amusing me with vain hopes, when he neither had the power nor inclination to provide for me. Nor was I less reserved with Straddle, whom I in person reproached for misrepre|senting to me the character of Strutwell, which I did not scruple to aver was infamous in every respect. He seemed very much enraged at my freedom, talked a great deal about his quality and honour, and began to make some comparisons, which I thought so injurious to mine, that I demanded an explanation with great warmth, and he was mean enough to equivocate, and condescend in such a manner, that I left him with an hearty contempt of his behaviour.

About this time Banter, who had observed a surprising and sudden alteration in my appearance and disposition, began to enquire very minutely into the cause, and as I did not think fit to let him know the true state of the af|fair, lest he might make free with my purse, on the strength of having proposed the scheme that filled it, I told him that I had received a small supply from a relation in the country, who at the same time had promised to use all his interest (which was not small) in soliciting some post for me, that would make me easy for life.

If that be the case,

said Banter,

perhaps you won't care to mortify yourself a little in making your fortune ano|ther way—I have a relation who is to set out for Bath next week with an only daughter, who, being sickly and decrepid, intends to drink the waters for the reco|very of her health. Her father, who was a rich Tur|key

merchant, died about a year ago, and left her with a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, under the sole management of her mother who is my kinswoman. I would have put in for the plate myself, but there is a breach a•• present between the old woman and me. You must know that sometime ago I borrowed a small sum of her, and promised, it seems, to pay it before a cer|tain time; but, being disappointed in my expectation of money from the country, the day elapsed without my being able to take up my note; upon which, she wrote a peremptory letter, threatening to arrest me, if I did not pay the debt immediately: nettled at this precise behaviour, I sent a damned severe answer, which enra|ged her so much, that she actually took out a writ against me: whereupon, finding the thing grow serious, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a friend to advance the money for me, discharged the debt, went to her house, and abused her for her unfriendly dealing. She was provoked by my reproach|es, and scolded in her turn. The little deformed urchin joined her mother with such virulence and volubility of tongue, that I was fain to make my retreat, after ha|ving been honoured with a great many scandalous epi|thets, which gave me plainly to understand, that I had nothing to expect from the esteem of the one, or the af|fection of the other. As they are both utter strangers to life, it is a thousand to one but the girl will be pick|ed up by some scoundrel or other at Bath, if I don't provide for her otherwise. You are a well-looking fel|low, Random, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 behave as demurely as a Quaker. Now, if you will give me an obligation for five hundred pounds to be paid six months after your marriage, I will put you in a method of carrying her in spite of all opposition.

This proposal was too advantageous for me to be refu|sed: the writing was immediately 〈◊〉〈◊〉 up, and executed; and Banter giving me notice of th•• time when, and the stage-coach in which they were to for out, I bespoke a place in the same convenience, and having hired a horse for Strap, who was charmed with the project, set out ac|cordingly.

As we embarked before day, I had not the pleasure for some time of seeing Miss Snapper, (that wa•• the name of

my mistress,) nor even perceiving the number and sex of my fellow-travellers, although I guessed that the coach was full, by the difficulty I found in seating myself.—The first five minutes passed in a general silence, when all of a sudden, the coach heeling to one side, a boisterous voice pronounced,

To the right and left, cover your flanks, damme! whiz!

I easily discovered by the tone and matter of this exclamation, that it was uttered by a son of Mars; neither was it hard to conceive the profes|sion of another person, who sat opposite to me, and ob|served, that we ought to have been well satisfied of the security, before we entered upon the premises.—These two sallies had not the desired effect: we continued a good while as mute as before, till at length the gentleman of the sword, impatient of longer silence, made a second ef|fort, by swearing he had got into a meeting of Quakers.—"I believe so too," said a shrill female voice, at my left hand, "for the spirit of folly begins to move."—

Out with it then, madam,

replied the soldier.

You seem to have no occasion for a midwife,

cried the lady.—"D—n my blood!" exclaimed the other,

a man can't talk to a woman but she immediately thinks of a mid|wife.

—"True, Sir," said she,

I long to be deli|vered.

—"What! of a mouse, madam?" said he.—"No, Sir," said she, "of a fool."—

Are you far gone with fool?

said he. "Little more than two miles," said she. "By Gad you're a wit, madam," cried the officer.

I wish I could with any justice return the com|pliment,

said the lady. "Zounds!—I have done," said he.

Your bolt is soon shot, according to the pro|verb,

said she. The warrior's powder was quite spent; the lawyer advised him to drop the prosecution; and a grave matron, who sat on the left hand of the victorious wit, told her she must not let her tongue run so fast among strangers. This reprimand, softened with the appellation of child, convinced me, that the satirical lady was no other than Miss Snapper, and I resolved to regulate my conduct accordingly. The champion, finding himself so smartly handled, changed his battery, and began to expa|tiate on his own exploits. "You talk of shot, Madam," said he,

damme! I have both given and received some shot in my time—I was wounded in the shoulder by a

pistol ball at Dettingen▪ where—I say nothing—but by G—d! if it had not been for me—all's one for that—I despise boasting, damme! whiz!

—So saying, he whistled one part, and hummed another of the Black Joke; then, addressing himself to the lawyer, went on thus:

Wouldn't you think it damned hard, after having, at the risk of your life, recovered the standard of a regi|ment that had been lost, to receive no preferment for your pains! I don't chuse to name no names, sink me! but, howsomever, this I will refer, by G—d, and that is this—a musqueteer of the French guards, having ta|ken a standard from a certain cornet of a certain regi|ment, damme! was retreating with the prize as fast as his horses heels could carry him, sink me! upon which, I snatched up a firelock that belonged to a dead man, damme! whiz! and shot his horse under him, d—n my blood! The fellow got upon his feet, and began to re|pose me; upon which I charged my bayonet breast|high, and run him through the body, by G—d!—One of his comrades, coming to his assistance, shot me in the shoulder as I told you before, and another gave me a confusion on the head with the butt-end of his car|bine; but damme, that did not signify—I killed one, put the other to flight, and, taking up the standard, carried it off very deliberately. But the best joke of all was, the son of a b—of a cornet, who had surrendered it in a cowardly manner, seeing it in my possession, de|manded it from me in the front of the line.

D—n my blood,

says he,

where did you find my stand|ard?

says he. "D—n my blood," said I, "where," said I, "did you lose it?" said I.

That's nothing to you,

says he; "'tis my standard," says he,

and by G—d, I'll have it,

says he.

D—n—tion seize me,

says I, "if you shall." says I,

till I have first delivered it to the general,

says I: and accordingly I

went to the head quarters after the battle, and delivered it to my Lord Stair, who promised to do for me, but I am no more than a poor lieutenant still, d—n my blood.

Having vented this repetition of expletive, the lawyer owned he had not been requited according to his deserts, observed that the labourer is always worthy of his hire,

and asked if the promise was made before witnesses, be|cause in that case the law would compel the general to perform it—but understanding that the promise was made, during a téte a téte, over a bottle, without being restricted to time or terms, he pronounced it not valid in law, pro|ceeded to inquire into the particulars of the battle, and affirmed, that, although the English had drawn themselves into a premunire at first, the French managed their cause so lamely in the course of their dispute, that they would have been utterly nonsuited, had they not obtained a noli prosequi.—In spite of these enlivening touches, the conver|sation was like to suffer another long interruption, when the lieutenant, unwilling to conceal any of his accomplishments that could be displayed in his present situation, offered to regale the company with a song, and, interpreting our silence into a desire of hearing, began to warble a fashion|able air, the first stanza of which he pronounced thus:

Would you task the moon-ty'd hair, To you flagrant beau repair; Where, waving with the poppling vow, The bantling fine will shelter you, &c.

The sense of the rest he perverted, as he went on, with such surprising facility, that I could not help thinking he had been at some pains to burlesque the performance. Miss Snapper ascribed it to the true cause, namely, igno|rance, and, when he asked her how she relished the music, answered, in her opinion, the music and the words were much of a piece. "O! d—n my blood!' said he,

I take that as a high compliment; for every body allows the words are damnable fine.

"They may be so," replied the lady,

for aught I know, but they are above my comprehension.

—

I an't obliged to find you com|prehension, Madam, curse me!

cried he.—

No, nor to speak sense neither,

said she.—"D—n my heart," said he, "I'll speak what I please." Here the lawyer inter|posed by telling him there were some things he must not speak; and upon being defied to give an instance, mentioned, treason and defamation. "As for the king," cried the soldier,

God bless him—I eat his bread, and have lost blood in his cause, therefore I have nothing to say

to him—but by G—d, I dare say any thing to any other man.

—"No," said the lawyer;

you dare not call me a rogue.

—"Damme, for why?" said the other.—"Because," replied the counsellor,

I should have a good action against you, and recover.

—

Well, well,

cried the officer,

if I dare not call you a rogue, I dare think you one, damme!

This stroke of wit he accompanied with a loud laugh of self-approbation, which unluckily did not affect the audience, but effectually silen|ced his antagonist, who did not open his mouth for the space of an hour, except to clear his pipes with three hems, which, however, produced nothing.

CHAP. XVIII.

Day breaking, I have the pleasure of viewing the person of Miss Snapper, whom I had not seen before—the soldier is witty upon me—is offended—talks much of his valour—is reprimanded by a grave gentlewoman—we are alarmed with the cry of highwaymen—I get out of the coach, and stand on my own defence—they ride off without having at|tacked us—I pursue them—one of them is thrown from his horse, and taken—I return to the coach—am compli|mented by Miss Snapper—the captain's behaviour on this occasion—the prude reproaches me in a soliloquy—I up|bra••d her in the same manner—the behaviour of Mrs. Snapper at breakfast disobliges me—the lawyer is witty upon the officer who threatens him.

IN the mean time day breaking in upon us, discovered to one another the faces of their fellow-travellers, and I had the good fortune to find my mistress not quite so deformed nor disagreeable as she had been represented to me. Her head, indeed, bore some resemblance to a hatch|et, the edge being represented by her face; but she had a certain delicacy in her complexion, and a great deal of vivacity in her eyes, which were very large and black; and though the protuberance of her breast, when consi|dered alone, seemed to drag her forwards, it was easy to perceive an equivalent on her back which balanced the other, and kept her body in equilibrio. On the whole, I thought I should have great reason to congratulate myself,

if it should be my fate to possess twenty thousand pounds encumbered with such a wife. I began, therefore, to de|liberate about the most probable means of acquiring the conquest, and was so much engrossed by this idea, that I scarce took any notice of the rest of the people in the coach, but revolved my prospect in silence, while the con|versation was maintained as before by the object of my hopes, the son of Mar••, and the barrister, who by this time had recollected himself, and talked in terms as much as ever. At length a dispute happened, which ended in a wager to be determined by me, who was so much absorbed in contemplation, that I neither heard the reference nor the question which was put to me by each in his turn. Affronted at my supposed contempt, the soldier with great vociferation swore, I was either dumb or deaf, if not both, and that I looked as if I could not say boh to a goose.—Aroused at this observation, I fixed my eyes upon him, and pronounced with emphasis the interjection boh! Upon which he cocked his hat in a fierce manner, and cried, "Damme, Sir, what d'ye mean by that?" Had I in|tended to answer him, which by the bye was not my de|sign, I should have been anticipated by miss, who told him my meaning was to shew, that I could cry boh to a goose, and laughed very heartily at my laconic reproof. Her explanation and mirth did not help to appease his wrath which broke out in several martial insinuations, such as—

I do not understand such freedoms, damme!—D—n my blood! I'm a gentleman, and bear the king's commission—'Sblood! some people deserve to have their noses pulled for their impertinence.

I thought to have checked these ejaculations by a frown, because he had talked so much of his valour, that I had long ago rated him an ass in a lion's skin; but, so far from answer|ing my expectations, he took umbrage at the contraction of my brows, swore he did not value my sulky look a fig's end, and protested he feared no man breathing. Miss Snapper said, she was very glad to find herself in company with a man of so much courage, who she did not doubt would protect us all from the attempts of highwaymen during our journey.

Make yourself perfectly easy on that head, Madam,

replied the officer;

I have got a pair of pistols (here they are) which I took from a

horse-officer at the battle of Dettingen—they are dou|ble-loaded, and if any highwayman in England robs you of the value of a pin, while I have the honour of being in your company, d—n my heart.

When he had expressed himself in this manner, a prim gentlewoman, who had sat silent hitherto, opened her mouth, and said, she wondered how any man could be so rude as to pull out such weapons before ladies. "Damme, Madam," cried the champion,

if you are so much afraid at sight of a pistol, how d'ye propose to stand fire if there should be occasion?

She then told him, that if she thought he could be so unmannerly as to use fire arms in her presence, whatever might be the occasion, she would get out of the coach immediately, and walk to the next village, where she might procure a convenience to herself. Before he could make any answer, my Dulcinea interposed, and ob|served, that, so far from being offended at a gentleman's using his arms in his own defence, she thought herself very lucky in being along with one by whose valour she stood a good chance of saving herself from being rifled. The prude cast a disdainful look at miss, and said, that people who had but little to lose are sometimes the most solicitous about preserving it. The old lady was affronted at this inuendo, and took notice, that people ought to be very well informed before they speak slightingly of other people's fortunes, lest they discover their own envy, and make them|selves ridiculous. The daughter declared, that she did not pretend to vie with any body in point of riches, and if the lady who insisted upon non-resistance, would promise to in|demnify us all for the loss we should sustain, she would be one of the first to persuade the captain to submission, in case we should be attacked. To this proposal, reasonable as it was, the reserved lady made no other reply than a scornful glance, and a toss of her head. I was very well pleased with the spirit of my mistress, and even wished for an opportunity of distinguishing my courage under her eye, which I believed could not fail of prepossessing her in my fa|vour, when all of a sudden Strap rode up to the coach-door, and told us in a great fright, that two men on horseback were crossing the heath, (for by this time we had passed Hounslow,) and made directly towards us. This piece of information was no sooner delivered than Mrs. Snapper

began to scream, her daughter grew pale, the other lady pulled out her purse to be in readiness, the lawyer's teeth chattered, while he pronounced,

'Tis no matter—we'll sue the county, and recover;

the captain gave evident signs of confusion, and I, after having commanded the coachman to stop, opened the doo••, jumped out, and in|vited the warrior to follow me: but, finding him back|ward and astonished, I took his pistols, and giving them to Strap, who, by this time, had alighted, and trembled very much, I mounted on horseback; and taking my own (which I could better depend upon) from the holsters, cocked them both, and faced the robbers, who were now very near us. Seeing me ready to oppose them on horse|back, and another man armed a-foot, they made a halt, at some distance to reconnoitre us, and after having rode round us twice, myself still facing about as they rode, went off, the same way they came, at a hand gallop. A gentleman's servant coming up with a horse at the same time, I offered him a crown to assist me in pursuing them, which he no sooner accepted than I armed him with the officer's pistols, and we galloped after the thieves, who, trusting to the swiftness of their horses, stopped till we came within shot of them, and then firing at us, put their nags to the full speed. We followed them as fast as our beasts could carry us, but not being so well mounted as they, our efforts would have been to little purpose, had not the horse of one of them stumbled, and thrown his rider with such violence over his head, that he lay sense|less when we came up, and was taken without the least op|position, while his comrade consulted his own safety in flight, without regarding the distress of his friend. We scarce had time to make ourselves masters of his arms, and tie his hands together, before he recovered his senses, when, learning his situation, he affected surprize, demanded to know by what authority we used a gentleman in that manner, and had the impudence to threaten us with a prosecution for robbery. In the mean time we perceived Strap coming up with a crowd of people armed with dif|ferent kinds of weapons, and among the rest a farmer, who no sooner perceived the thief whom we had secured, than he cried with great emotion,

There's the fellow who robbed me an hour ago of twenty pounds in a

canvas bag.

He was immediately searched, and the money sound exactly as it had been described: upon which, we committed him to the charge of the countryman, who carried him to the town of Hounslow, which it seems the farmer had alarmed; and I having satisfied the footman for his trouble, according to promise, returned with Strap to the coach, where I found the captain and lawyer busy in administering smelling-bottles and cordials to the grave lady, who had gone into a fit at the noise of the firing.

When I had taken my seat, Miss Snapper, who from the coach had seen every thing that happened, made me a compliment on my behaviour, and said she was glad to see me returned, without having received any injury; her mother too owned herself obliged to my resolution; and the lawyer told me, that I was entitled by act of parlia|ment to a reward of forty pounds, for having apprehend|ed a highwayman.—The soldier observed, with a counte|nance in which impudence and shame struggling produced some disorder, that if I had not been in such a damned hurry to get out of the coach, he would have secured the rogues effectually, without all this bustle and loss of time, by a scheme which my heat and precipitation ruined.—"For my own part," continued he,

I am always ex|tremely cool on these occasions.

—

So it appeared by your trembling,

said the young lady.—

Death and damnation!

cried he,

your sex protects you, Ma|dam: if any man on earth durst tell me so much, I'd send him to hell, damn my heart! in an instant.

—So saying, he fixed his eyes upon me, and asked if I had seen him tremble.—I answered without hesitation, "Yes."—"Damme, Sir," said he, "d'ye doubt my courage?"—I replied, "Very much."—This declaration quite dis|concerted him.—He looked blank, and pronounced with a faultering voice,

Oh! 'tis very well—D—n my blood! I shall find a time.

—I signified my contempt of him, by thrusting my tongue in my cheek, which humbled him so much, that he scarce swore another oath aloud during the whole journey.

The precise lady, having recruited her spirits by the help of some strong waters, began a soliloquy, in which she wondered that any man who pretended to maintain the character of a gentleman, could, for the sake of a little

paultry coin, throw persons of honour into such quan|daries as might endanger their lives; and professed her surprize, that women were not ashamed to commend such brutality. At the same time vowing, that for the future she would never set foot in a stage-coach, if a private con|venience could be had for love or money.

Nettled at her remarks, I took the same method of con|veying my sentiments, and wondered in my turn, that any woman of common sense should be so unreasonable as to expect that people, who had neither acquaintance nor connection with her, would tamely allow themselves to be robbed and mal-treated, merely to indulge her capricious humour. I likewise professed my astonishment at her in|solence and ingratitude in taxing a person with brutality, who deserved her approbation and acknowledgment; and vowed, that if ever we should be assaulted again, I would leave her to the mercy of the spoiler, that she might know the value of my protection.

This person of honour did not think fit to carry on the altercation any further, but seemed to chew the cud of her resentment with the crest-fallen captain, while I en|tered into discourse with my charmer, who was the more pleased with my conversation, as she had conceived a very indifferent opinion of my intellects from my former silence. I should have had cause to be equally satisfied with the sprightliness of her genius, could she have curbed her ima|gination with judgment; but she laboured under such a profusion of talk, that I dreaded her unruly tongue, and felt by anticipation the horrors of an eternal clack! How|ever, when I considered on the other hand, the joys at|tending the possession of twenty thousand pounds, I for|got her imperfections, seized occasion by the forelock, and endeavoured to insinuate myself into her affection.—The careful mother kept a strict watch over her, and though she could not help behaving civilly to me, took frequent opportunities of discouraging our communica|tion, by reprimanding her for being so free with strangers and telling her she must learn to speak less and think more.—Abridged of the use of speech, we conversed with our eyes, and found the young lady very eloquent in this kind of discourse. In short, I had reason to believe, that she was sick of the old gentlewoman's tuition, and

that I should find it no difficult matter to supersede her authority.

When we arrived at the place where we were to break|fast, I alighted, and helped my mistress out of the coach, as well as her mother, who called for a private room, to which they withdrew, in order to eat by themselves.—As they retired together, I perceived that Miss had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 more twists from nature than I had before observed, being bent sideways into the figure of an S, so that her progression very much resembled that of a crab.—The prude also chose the captain for her mess-mate, and ordered break|fast for two only to be brought into another separate room; while the lawyer and I, deserted by the rest of the company, were fain to put up with each other. I was a good deal chagrined at the stately reserve of Mrs. Snap|per, who I thought did not use me with all the complai|sance I deserved; and my companion declared, that he had been a traveller these twenty years, and never knew the stage-coach rules so much infringed before. As for the honourable gentlewoman, I could not conceive the meaning of her attachment to the lieutenant; and asked the law|yer if he knew for which of the soldier's virtues she ad|mired him; the counsellor facetiously replied,

I suppose the lady knows him to be an able conveyancer, and wants him to make a settlement intail.

—I could not help laughing at the archness of the barrister, who entertained me during breakfast with a good deal of wit of the same kind, at the expence of our fellow-travellers; and among other things said, he was sorry to find the young lady sad|dled with such incumbrances.

When we had made an end of our repast, and paid our reckoning, we went into the coach, took our places, and bribed the driver with sixpence, to revenge us on the rest of his fare, by hurrying them away in the midst of their meal.—This he performed to our satisfaction, after he had disturbed their enjoyment with his importunate clamour. The mother and daughter obeyed the summons first, and coming to the coach door, were obliged to desire the coachman's assistance to get in, because the lawyer and I had agreed to shew our resentment by our neglect.—They were no sooner seated than the captain appeared, as much heated as if he had been pursued a dozen miles by an ene|my;

and immediately after him came the lady, not with|out some marks of disorder.—Having helped her up, he entered himself, growling a few oaths against the coach|man for his impertinent interruption; and the lawyer com|forted him by saying, that if he had suffered a nisi prius through the obstinacy of the defendant, he might have an opportunity to join issue at the next stage. This last ex|pression gave offence to the grave gentlewoman, who told him, if she was a man, she would make him repent of such obscenity, and thanked God she had never been in such company before.—At this insinuation, the captain thought himself under a necessity of espousing the lady's cause; and accordingly threatened to cut off the lawyer's ears, if he should give his tongue any such liberties for the fu|ture. The poor counsellor begged pardon, and universal silence ensued.

CHAP. XIX.

I resolve to ingratiate myself with the mother, and am fa|voured by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the precise lady finds her husband, and quits the 〈◊〉〈◊〉—the captain is disappointed of his dinner—we arrive at Bath—I accompany Miss Snapper to the Long-room, where she is attacked by Beau N—sh, and turns the laugh against him—I make love to her, and receive a check—squire her to an assembly, where I am blest with a ••ight of my dear Narcissa, which discomposes me so much, that Miss Snapper, observing my disorder, is at pains to discover 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cause—is piqued at the occasion, and, in our way home, pays me a sarcastic compliment—I am met by Miss Williams, who is maid and confidante of Narcissa—she acquaints me with her lady's regard for me while under the disguise of a servant, and describes the transports of Narcissa on seeing me at the assembly in the character of a gentleman—I am surprised with an account of her aunt's marriage, and make an appointment to meet Miss Williams next day.

DURING this unsocial interval my pride and interest maintained a severe conflict, on the subject of Miss Snapper, whom the one represented as unworthy of my notice, and the other proposed as the object of my whole

attention; the advantages and disadvantages attending such a match, were opposed to one another by my ima|gination; and at length my judgment gave it so much in favour of the first, that I resolved to prosecute my scheme, with all the address in my power.—I thought I perceived some concern in her countenance, occasioned by my silence, which she no doubt imputed to my disgust at her mother's behaviour; and as I believed the old woman could not fail of ascribing my muteness to the same motive, I de|termined to continue that sullen conduct towards her, and fall upon some other method of manifesting my esteem for the daughter; nor was it difficult for me to make her ac|quainted with my sentiments by the expression of my looks, which I modelled into the characters of humility and love; and which were answered by her with all the sympathy and approbation I could desire. But when I began to consider, that without further opportunities of improving my success, all the progress I had hitherto made could not much avail, and that such opportunities could not be enjoyed without the mother's permission, I con|cluded, it would be requisite to vanquish her coldness and suspicion, by my assiduities and respectful behaviour on the road; and she would in all likelihood invite me to vi|sit her at Bath, where I did not fear of being able to cultivate her acquaintance as much as would be necessary to the accomplishment of my purpose.—And, indeed, ac|cident furnished me with an opportunity of obliging her so much, that she could not, with any appearance of good manners, forbear to gratify my inclination.

When we arrived at our dining-place, we found all the eatables in the inn bespoke by a certain nobleman, who had got the start of us; and in all likelihood, my mistress and her mother must have dined with Duke Humphrey, had I not exerted myself in their behalf, and bribed the landlord with a glass of wine, to curtail his Lordship's entertainment of a couple of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and some bacon, which I sent with my compliments to the ladies; they accepted my treat with a great many thanks, and desired I would favour them with my company at dinner, where I amused the old gentlewoman so successfully, by maintaining a seemingly disinterested ease, in the midst of my civility, that she signified a desire of being better acquainted, and

hoped I would be so kind as to see her sometimes at Bath.—While I enjoyed myself in this manner, the precise la|dy had the good fortune to meet with her husband, who was no other than gentleman, or in other words, valet de chambre to the very nobleman whose coach stood at the door. Proud of the interest she had in the house, she af|fected to shew her power, by introducing the captain to her spouse, as a person who had treated her with great ci|vility; upon which he was invited to a share of their din|ner; while the poor lawyer finding himself utterly aban|doned, made application to me, and was, through my intercession, admitted into our company.—Having satis|fied our appetites, and made ourselves very merry at the expence of the person of honour, the civil captain and complaisant husband, I did myself the pleasure of discharg|ing the bill by stealth, for which I received a great ma|ny apologies and acknowledgments from my guests, and we re-imbarked at the first warning.—The officer was obliged at last to appease his hunger with a luncheon of bread and cheese, and a pint bottle of brandy, which he dispatched in the coach, cursing the inappetence of his Lordship, who had ordered dinner to be put back a whole hour.

Nothing remarkable happened during the remaining part of our journey, which was ended about twelve o'clock, when I waited on the ladies to the house of a relation, in which they intended to lodge, and passing that night in the inn, took lodgings next morning for myself.

The forenoon was spent in visiting every thing that was worth seeing in the place, which I did in company with a gentleman to whom Banter had given me a letter of introduction; and in the afternoon I waited on the ladies, and found Miss a good deal indisposed with the fatigues of the journey.—As they foresaw they should have occa|sion for a male acquaintance, to squire them at all public places, I was received with great cordiality, and had the mother's permission to conduct them next day to the Long Room, which we no sooner entered, than the eyes of every body present were turned upon us; and whem we had suffered the martyrdom of their looks for some time, a whisper circulated at our expence, which was ac|companied with many contemptuous smiles, and tittering

observations, to my utter shame and confusion.—I did not so much conduct as follow my charge to a place, where she seated her mother and herself, with astonishing com|posure, notwithstanding the unmannerly behaviour of the whole company; which seemed to be assumed merely to put her out of countenance.—The celebrated Mr. N—sh, who commonly attends in this place as master of the ce|remonies, perceiving the disposition of the assembly, took upon himself the task of gratifying their ill nature still farther, by exposing my mistress to the edge of his wit. With this view he approached us with many bows and grimaces, and after having welcomed Miss Snapper to the place, asked her, in the hearing of all present, if she could inform him of the name of Tobit's dog—I was so much incensed at his insolence, that I should certainly have kicked him where he stood, without ceremony, had not the young lady prevented the effects of my indigna|tion, by replying, with the utmost vivacity,

His name was N—sh, and an impudent dog he was.

This re|partee, so unexpected and just, raised such an universal laugh at the aggressor, that all his assurance was insufficient to support him under their derision; so that after he had endeavoured to compose himself by taking snuff, and for|cing a smile, he was obliged to sneak off in a very ludi|crous attitude; while my Dulcinea was applauded to the skies, for the brilliancy of her wit, and her acquaintance immediately courted by the best people of both sexes in the room.—This event, with which I was infinitely plea|sed at first, did not fail of alarming me, upon further re|flection, when I considered, that the more she was cares|sed by persons of distinction, the more her pride would be inflamed, and consequently the obstacles to my success multiplied and enlarged.—Nor were my presaging fears untrue.—That very night I perceived her a little intoxi|cated with the incense she had received, and though she still behaved with a particular civility to me, I foresaw that, as soon as her fortune should be known, she would be surrounded with a swarm of admirers, some one of whom might possibly, by excelling me in point of wealth, or in the arts of flattery or scandal, supplant me in her esteem, and find means to make the mother of his party. I resolved, therefore, to lose no time, and, being invited

to spend the evening with them, sound an opportunity, in spite of the old gentlewoman's vigilance, to explain the meaning of my glances in the coach, by paying homage to her wit, and professing myself enamoured of her person.—She blushed at my declaration, and in a favourable manner disapproved of the liberty I had taken, putting me in mind of our being strangers to each other, and desiring I would not be the means of interrupting our acquaintance, by any such unseasonable strokes of gallantry for the fu|ture.—My ardour was effectually checked by this repri|mand, which was, however, delivered in such a gentle manner, that I had no cause to be disobliged; and the arrival of her mother relieved me from a dilemma, in which I should not have known how to demean myself a mi|nute longer.—Neither could I resume the easiness of carri|age with which I came in, my mistress acted on the reserve, and the conversation beginning to flag, the old lady in|troduced her kinswoman of the house, and proposed a hand at whist.

While we amused ourselves at this diversion, I under|stood from the gentlewoman, that there was to be an as|sembly next night, at which I begged to have the honour of dancing with Miss. She thanked me for the favour I intended her, assured me she never did dance, but signi|fied a desire of seeing the company; when I offered my ser|vice, which was accepted, not a little proud of being ex|empted from appearing with her in a situation, that, not|withstanding my profession to the contrary, was not at all agreeable to my inclination.

Having supped, and continued the game, till such time as the successive yawns of the mother warned me to be gone, I took my leave, and went home, where I made Strap very happy with an account of my progress.—Next day I put on my gayest apparel, and went to drink tea at Mrs. Snapper's, according to appointment, when I found to my inexpressible satisfaction, that she was laid up with the tooth-ach, and that Miss was to be entrusted to my care.—Accordingly we set out for the ball-room, pretty early in the evening, and took possession of a com|modious place, where we had not sat longer than a quar|t••r of an hour, when a gentleman dressed in a green frock came in, leading a young lady, whom I immediately dis|covered

to be the adorable Narcissa! Good Heaven! what were the thrillings of my soul at that instant! my reflec|tion was overwhelmed with a torrent of agitation! my heart throbbed with surprising violence! a sudden mist overspread my eyes! my ears were invaded with a dread|ful sound! I panted for want of breath, and, in short, was for some moments entranced!—This first tumult subsid|ing, a crowd of flattering ideas rushed upon my imagina|tion; every thing that was soft, sensible and engaging in the character of that dear creature, recurred to my re|membrance; and every favourable circumstance of my own qualifications appeared, in all the aggravation of self|conceit, to heighten my expectation!—Neither was this transport of long duration: the dread of her being alrea|dy disposed of, intervened, and overcast my enchanting reverie! My presaging apprehension represented her en|circled in the arms of some happy rival, and of conse|quence for ever lost to me! I was stung with this sugges|tion, and believing the person who conducted her to be the husband of this amiable young lady, already devoted him to my fury, and stood up to mark him for my ven|geance; when I recollected, to my unspeakable joy, her brother, the fox-hunter, in the person of her gallant.—Undeceived so much to my satisfaction in this particular, I gazed in a frenzy of delight, on the irresistible charms of his sister, who no sooner distinguished me in the crowd, than her evident confusion afforded a happy omen to my flame.—At sight of me she started, the roses instantly va|nished from her polished cheeks, and returned in a mo|ment with a double glow, that overspread her lovely neck, while her enchanting bosom heaved with strong emotion.—I hailed these favourable symptoms, and lying in wait for her looks did homage with my eyes.—She seemed to approve my declaration, by the complacency of her aspect▪ and I was so transported with the discovery, that, more than once, I was on the point of making up to her, and disclosing the throbbing of my heart in person, had not that profound veneration, which her presence always in|spired, restrained the unseasonable impulse.—All my powers being ingrossed in this manner, it may easily be imagined how ill I entertained Miss Snapper, on whom I could not now turn my eyes, without making comparisons,

very little to her advantage.—If was not even in my pow|er to return distinct answers to the questions she asked from time to time, so that she could not help observing my absence of mind; and, having a turn for observa|tion, watched my glances, and tracing them to the di|vine object, discovered the cause of my disorder. That she might, however, be convinced of ••he truth of her conjecture, she began to interrogate me with regard to Narcissa, and, notwithstanding all my endeavours to dis|guise my sentiments, perceived my attachment by my confusion.—Upon which, she assumed a stateliness of be|haviour, and sat silent during the remaining part of the entertainment.—At any other time I should have been prodigiously alarmed at her suspicion, but at that instant I was elevated by my passion above every other considera|tion.—The mistress of my soul having retired with her brother, I discovered so much uneasiness at my situation, that Miss Snapper proposed to go home; and while I con|ducted her to a chair, told me she had too great a regard for me to keep me any longer in torment. I feigned igno|rance of her meaning, and having seen her safely at her lodgings, took my leave, and went home in an extasy; where I disclosed every thing that had happened to my confidant and humble servant Strap, who did not relish the accident so well as I expected; and observed, that a bird in hand is worth two in the bush.—"But however," said he, "you know best,—you know best."—Next day as I went to the bath, in hopes of seeing or hearing some tidings of my fair enslaver, I was met by a gentlewoman, who ha|ving looked hard at me, cried, "O Christ, Mr. Random!" Surprised at this exclamation, I examined the countenance of the person who spoke, and immediately recognized my old sweet-heart and fellow-sufferer Miss Williams.

I was mightily pleased to find this unfortunate woman under such a decent appearance, professed my joy at see|ing her so well, and desired to know where I should have the pleasure of her conversation. She was a••••heartily re|joiced at the apparent easiness of my fortune, and gave me to know, that she, as yet, had no habitation that she could properly call her own; but would wait on me at any place I should please to appoint.—Understanding that she was disengaged for the present, I shewed her the way

to my own lodgings, where, after a very affectionate sa|lutation, the informed me of her being very happy in the service of a young lady, to whom she was recommended by a former mistress deceased, into whose family she had recommended herself by the honest deceit we had concerted, while she lived with me in the garret at London.—She then expressed a veh••ment desire to be acquainted with the vicissitudes of my life since we parted, and ascribed her curiosity to the concern she had for my interest.—I forthwith gratified her request, and when I described my situation in Sussex, perceived her to attend to my story with particular eagerness. She interrupted me when I had finished that period, with: "Good God! is it possible!"—and then begged I would be so good as to continue my relation; which I did as briefly as I could, burning with impatience to know the cause of her surprise, about which I had already formed a very interesting conjecture.—When I had brought my adventures down to the pre|sent day, she seemed very much affected with the different circumstances of my fortune; and saying with a smile, she believed my distresses were now at a period, proceeded to inform me, that the lady whom she served was no other than the charming Narcissa, who had honoured her with her confidence for some time;—in consequence of which trust, she had often repeated the story of John Brown, with great admiration and regard; that she loved to dwell upon the particulars of his character, and did not scruple to own a tender approbation of his flame.—I became de|lirious with this piece of intelligence, strained Miss Wil|liams in my embrace, called her the angel of my happi|ness, and acted such extravagances, that she might have been convinced of my sincerity, had she not been satis|fied of my honour before.—As soon as I was in a con|dition to yield attention, she described the present situation of her mistress, who had no sooner reached her lodgings the night before, than she closeted her, and in a rapture of joy, gave her to know that she had seen me at the ball, where I appeared in the character which she always thought my due, with such advantage of transformation, that un|less my image had been engraven on her heart, it would have been impossible to know me for the person who had worn her aunt's livery;—that, by the language of my eyes, she was assured of the continuance of my passion for

her, and consequently of my being unengaged to any other; and that though she did not doubt I would speedi|ly fall upon some method of being introduced, she was so impatient to hear of me, that she (Miss Williams) had been sent abroad this very morning on purpose to learn the name and character I at present bore.—My bosom had been hitherto a stranger to such a flood of joy as now rushed upon it: my faculties were overborne by the tide; it was some time before I could open my mouth; and much longer ere I could utter a coherent sentence.—At length, I fervently requested her to lead me immediately to the object of my adoration: but she resisted my im|portunity, and explained the danger of such premature conduct.—"How favourable soever," said she,

my la|dy's inclination towards you my be, you may de|pend upon it, she will not commit the smallest tres|pass on decorum, either in disclosing her own, or in receiving a declaration of your passion: and although the great veneration I have for you, has prompted me to reveal what she communicated to me in confidence, I know so well the severity of her sentiments with re|spect to the punctilios of her sex, that, if she should learn the least surmise of it, she would not only dis|miss me as a wretch unworthy of her benevolence, but also for ever shun the efforts of your love.

—I assented to the justness of her remonstrance, and desired she would assist me with her advice and direction: upon which, it was concerted between us, that, for the present, I should be contented with her telling Narcissa, that in the course of her enquiries, she could only learn my name: and that if in a day or two I could fall upon no other method of being introduced, she would deliver a letter from me, on pretence of consulting her happiness; and say that I met her in the street, and bribed her to that piece of service.—Matters being thus adjusted, I kept my old ac|quaintance to breakfast, and learned from her conversa|tion, that my rival Sir Timothy had drank himself into an apoplexy, of which he died five months ago; that the savage was still unmarried, and that his aunt had been seized with a whim which he little expected, and chosen the school-master of the parish for her lord and husband: but matrimony not agreeing with her constitution, she

had been hectic and dropsical a good while, and was now at Bath in order to drink the waters for the recovery of her health; that her niece had accompanied her thither at her request, and attended her with the same affection as before, notwithstanding the faux pas she had committed; and that her nephew, who had been exasperated at the loss of her fortune, did not give his attendance out of good••will, but purely to have an eye on his sister, lest she should likewise throw herself away, without his consent or approbation.—Having enjoyed ourselves in this manner, and made an assignation to meet next day at a certain place, Miss Williams took her leave; and Strap's looks being very inquisitive about the nature of the communi|cation subsisting between us, I made him acquainted with the whole affair, to his great astonishment and satisfaction.

CHAP. XX.

I become acquainted with Narcissa's brother, who invites me to his house, where I am introduced to that adorable creature—after dinner the squire retires to take his nap—Freeman, guessing the situation of my thoughts, withdraws likewise, on pretence of business—I declare my passion to Narcissa—am well received—charmed with her conversa|tion—the squire detains us to supper—I elude his design by stratagem, and get home sober.

IN the afternoon I drank tea at the house of Mr. Free|man, to whom I had been recommended by Banter, where I had not sat five minutes till the fox hunter came in, and, by his familiar behaviour, appeared to be inti|mate with my friend. I was at first under some concern, lest he should recollect my features; but when I sound myself introduced to him as a gentleman from London, without being discovered, I blessed the opportunity that brought me into his company, hoping that, in the course of our acquaintance, he would invite me to his house—nor were my hopes frustrated; for, as we spent the evening to|gether, he grew extremely fond of my conversation, asked a great many childish questions about France and other fo|reign parts, and seemed so highly entertained with my an|swers, that in his cups he shook me often by the hand, pro|nounced

me an honest fellow, and, in fine, desired our com|pany at dinner next day at his own house. My imagination was so much employed in anticipating the happiness I was to enjoy the next day, that I slept very little that night, but, rising up early in the morning, went to the place ap|pointed, where I met my she-friend, and imparted to her my success with the squire. She was much pleased at the occasion, which she said could not fail of being agree|able to Narcissa, who, in spite of her passion for me, had mentioned some scruples relating to my true situation and character, which the delicacy of her sentiments suggested, and which she believed I would find it necessary to remove, though she did not know how. I was a good deal startled at this insinuation, because I foresaw the difficulty I should find in barely doing myself justice: for although it never was my intention to impose myself upon any woman, much less on Narcissa, as a man of fortune, I laid claim to the character of a gentleman by birth, education, and behaviour; and yet (so unlucky had the circumstances of my life fallen out) I should find it a very hard matter to make good my pretensions even to these, especially to the last, which was the most essential. Miss Williams was as sensible as I of this my disadvantage, but comforted me with observing, that, when once a woman has bestowed her affections on a man, she cannot help judging of him, in all respects, with a partiality easily influenced in his favour—she remarked, that although some situations of my life had been low, yet none of them had been infamous; that my indigence had been the crime, not of me, but of fortune; and that the miseries I had undergone, by im|proving the faculties both of mind and body, qualified me the more for any dignified station, and would, of conse|quence, recommend me to the good graces of any sensible woman—she therefore advised me to be always open and unreserved to the inquiries of my mistress, without unne|cessarily betraying the meanest occurrences of my fate, and trust to the strength of her love and reflection for the rest. The sentiments of this sensible young woman on this, as well as on almost every other subject, perfectly agreed with mine; I thanked her for the care she took of my interests, and, promising to behave myself according to her direction, we parted, after she had assured me that I might depend

upon her best offices with her mistress, and that she would, from time to time, communicate to me such intelligence as she should procure, relating to my flame. Having dressed myself to the best advantage, I waited for the time of din|ner with the most fearful impatience, and, as the hour drew nigh, my heart beat with such increased velocity, and my spirits contracted such disorder, that I began to suspect my resolution, and even to wish myself disengaged. At last Mr. Freeman called at my lodgings in his way, and I accompanied him to the house where all my happiness was deposited. We were very kindly received by the squire, who sat smoaking his pipe in a parlour, and asked if we chose to drink any thing before dinner? Though I never had more occasion for a cordial, I was ashamed to accept his offer, which was also refused by my friend. We sat down, however, and entered into conversation, which lasted half an hour, so that I had time to recollect myself, and (so capricious were my thoughts) even to hope that Narcissa would not appear—when all of a sudden a servant, coming in, gave us notice, that dinner was upon the table—and my perturbation returned with such vio|lence, that I could scarce conceal it from the company as I ascended the stair-case. When I entered the dining|room, the first object that saluted my ravished eyes was the divine Narcissa, blushing like Aurora, adorned with all the graces that meekness, innocence and beauty can diffuse! I was seized with a giddiness, my knees tottered, and I scarce had sense enough to perform the ceremony of salutation, when her brother, slapping me on the shoul|der, cried, "Measter Random, that there is my sister." I approached her with eagerness and fear, but in the mo|ment of our embrace, my soul was agonized with rapture! It was a lucky circumstance for us both, that my enter|tainer was not endued with an uncommon stock of pene|tration; for our mutual confusion was so manifest, that Mr. Freeman perceived it, and, as we went home toge|ther, congratulated me on my good fortune. But so far was Bruin from entertaining the least suspicion, that he encouraged me to begin a conversation with my mistress in a language unknown to him, by telling her, that he had brought a gentleman (meaning me) who could jabber with her, in French and other foreign lingos, as fast as she

pleased; then, turning to me, said,

Odds bobs! I wish you would hold discourse with her in your French or Ital••ano, and tell me if she understands it as well as she would be thought to do. There's her aunt and she will chatter together whole days in it, and I can't have a mouthful of English for love or money.

I consulted the looks of my amiable mistress, and found her averse to his proposal, which indeed she declined with a sweetness of denial peculiar to herself, as a piece of disrespect to that part of the company which did not understand the lan|guage in question. As I had the happiness of sitting op|posite to her, I feasted my eyes much more than my pa|late, which she tempted in vain with the most delicious bits carved by her fair hand, and recommended by her persuasive tongue—but all my other appetites were swal|lowed up in the immensity of my love, which I fed by gazing incessantly on the delightful object. Dinner was scarce ended, when the squire became very drowsy, and, after several dreadful yawns, got up, stretched himself, took two or three turns across the room, begged we would allow him to take a short nap, and, having laid a strong injunction on his sister to detain us till his return, went to his repose without any farther ceremony. He had not been gone many minutes when Freeman, guessing the situation of my heart, and thinking he could not do me a greater fa|vour than to leave me alone with Narcissa, pretended to recollect himself all of a sudden, and, starting up, begged the lady's pardon for half an hour, having luckily re|membered an engagement of some consequence that he must perform at that instant. So saying, he took his leave, promising to come back time enough for tea, leaving my mistress and me in great confusion. Now that I en|joyed an opportunity of disclosing the pantings of my soul, I had not power to use it. I studied many pathetic de|clarations, but, when I attempted to give them utterance, my tongue denied its office, and she sat silent, with a down|cast look, full of anxious alarm, her bosom heaving with expectation of some great event. At length I endeavoured to put an end to this solemn pause, and began with,

It is very surprising, Madam

—Here, the sound dying away, I made a full stop—while Narcissa, starting, blush|ed, and with a timid accent, answered, "Sir?" Con|founded

at this note of interrogation, I pronounced with the most sheepish bashfulness, "Madam!" To which she replied,

I beg pardon—I thought you had spoke to me.

Another pause ensued—I made another effort, and, though my voice faultered very much in the begin|ning, made shift to express myself in this manner:

I say, Madam, 'tis very surprising, that love should act so in|consistent with itself as to deprive its votaries of the use of their faculties, when they have most need of them. Since the happy occasion of being alone with you pre|sented itself, I have made many unsuccessful attempts to declare a passion for the loveliest of her sex—a pas|sion which took possession of my soul when my cruel fate compelled me to wear a servile disguise so unsuit|able to my birth, sentiments, and, let me add, my de|serts; yet favourable in one respect, as it furnished me with opportunities of seeing and adoring your perfec|tions—Yes, Madam, it was then your dear idea entered my bosom, where it has lived unimpaired in the midst of numberless cares, and animated me against a thousand dangers and calamities!

While I spoke thus, she con|cealed her face with her fan, and when I ceased, recover|ing herself from the most beautiful confusion, told me that she thought herself very much obliged by my favourable opinion of her, and that she was very sorry to hear I had been unfortunate. Encouraged by this gentle reply, I proceeded to own myself sufficiently recompensed by her kind compassion for what I had undergone, and declared, that the future happiness of my life depended solely upon her. "Sir," said she,

I should be very ungrateful if, after the signal protection you once afforded me, I should refuse to contribute towards your happiness in any reasonable condescension.

Transported at this ac|knowledgment, I threw myself at her feet, and begged she would regard my passion with a favourable eye: she was alarmed at my behaviour, entreated me to rise, le••t her brother should discover me in that posture, and to spare her, for the present, upon a subject for which she was al|together unprepared: upon this, I rose, assuring her I ••ould rather die than disobey her, but in the mean time begged her to consider how precious the minutes of this opportunity were, and what restraint I put upon my in|clination

in sacrificing them to her desire. She smiled with unspeakable sweetness, and said, there would be no want of opportunities, provided I could maintain the good opi|nion her brother had conceived of me; and I, enchanted by her charms, seized her hand, which I well nigh de|voured with kisses. But she checked my boldness with a severity of countenance, and desired I would not so far for|get myself or her as to endanger the esteem she had for me—she reminded me of our being almost strangers to each other, and of the necessity there was for her knowing me better, before she could take any resolution in my sa|vour, and, in short, mingled so much good sense and com|placency in her reproof, that I became as much enamoured of her understanding as I had been before of her beauty, and asked pardon for my presumption with the utmost re|verence of conviction. She forgave my offence with her usual affability, and sealed my pardon with a look so full of bewitching tenderness, that for some minutes my senses were lost in extasy! Lafterwards endeavoured to regulate my behaviour according to her desire, and turn the con|versation upon a more indifferent subject; but her presence was an unsurmountable obstacle to my design; while I be|held so much excellence, I sound it impossible to call my attention from the contemplation of it. I gazed with un|utterable fondness! I grew mad with admiration!—

My condition is insupportable,

cried I;

I am distract|ed with passion!—Why are you so exquisitely fair? Why are you so enchantingly good? Why has nature dignified you with charms so much above the standard of women? and, wretch that I am, how dares my unwor|thiness aspire to the enjoyment of such perfection!

She was startled at my ravings, reasoned down my trans|port, and, by her irresistible eloquence, soothed my soul into a state of tranquil felicity; but, lest I might suffer a relapse, industriously promoted other subjects to entertain my imagination. She chid me for having omitted to in|quire about her aunt, who, she assured me, in the midst of all her absence of temper, and detachment from common affairs, often talked of me with uncommon warmth. I professed my veneration for the good lady, excused my omission by imputing it to the violence of my love, which engrossed my whole soul, and desired to know the present

situation of her health: upon which the amiable Narcissa repeated what I had heard before of her marriage, with all the tenderness for her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that the subject would admit off; told me, she lived with her husband hard by, and was so much afflicted with a dropsy, and wasted by a consumption, that she 〈◊〉〈◊〉 small hopes of her recovery.—〈◊〉〈◊〉 expressed my sorrow for her distemper, I question|ed 〈…〉〈…〉 good fri••nd Mrs. Sagely, who I learned 〈…〉〈…〉 was still in good health, and, 〈…〉〈…〉 she besto••ed upon me after I was gone, confirmed the favourable impressions my behaviour at part|ing had made on Narcissa's heart. This circumstance in|troduced an enquiry into the conduct 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sir Timothy Thicket, who, she informed me, had found means to in|cense her brother so much against me, that she sound it impossible to undeceive him, but on the contrary suffered very much in her own character by his scandalous insinua|tions—that the whole parish was alarmed and actually in pursuit of me; so that she had been in the utmost conster|nation upon my account, well knowing how little my own innocence and her testimony would have weighed with the ignorance, prejudice and brutality of those who must have judged me, had I been apprehended—that Sir Ti|mothy being seized with a fit of the apoplexy, from which with great difficulty he was recovered, began to be appre|hensive of death, and to prepare himself accordingly for that great event; as a step to which, he sent for her bro|ther, owned, with great contrition, the brutal design he had upon her, and of consequence acquitted me of the as|sault, robbery, and correspondence with her, which he had laid to my charge; after which confession he lived about a month in a languishing condition, and was carried off by a second assault.

Every word that this dear creature spoke rivetted the chains with which she held me enslaved! My mischievous fancy began to work, and the tempest of my passion to wake again, when the return of Freeman destroyed the tempting opportunity, and enabled me to quell the rising tumult. A little while after, the squire staggered into the room, rubbing his eyes, and calling for his tea, which he drank out of a small bowl qualified with brandy; we sip|ped some in the ordinary way: Narcissa left us in order to

visit her aunt, and, when Freeman and I proposed to take our leave, the fox-hunter insisted on our spending the even|ing at his house with such an obstinacy of affection, that we were obliged to comply. For my own part, I should have been glad of the invitation, by which, in all likeli|hood, I should have been blest with more of his sister's company, had I not been afraid of risking her esteem by entering into a debauch of drinking with him, which, from the knowledge of his character, I foresaw would happen; but there was no remedy—I was forced to rely upon the strength of my constitution, which I hoped would resist intoxication longer than the squire's, and trust to the good nature and discretion of my mistress for the rest.

Our entertainer, resolving to begin by times, ordered the table to be furnished with liquor and glasses immedi|ately after tea; but we absolutely refused to set in for drinking so soon, and we prevailed upon him to pass away an hour or two at whist, in which he engaged as soon as Narcissa returned. The savage and I happened to be part|ners at first, and, as my thoughts were wholly employed on a more interesting game, I played so ill, that he lost all patience, swore bitterly, and threatened to call for wine, if they would not grant him another associate. This desire was gratified, and Narcissa and I were of a side; he won for the same reason that made him lose before; I was satisfied, my lovely partner did not repine, and the time slipped away very agreeably, until we were told that supper was served in another room.

The squire was enraged to find the evening so unpro|fitably spent, and wreaked his vengeance on the cards, which he tore, and committed to the flames with many execrations; threatening to make us redeem our loss with a large glass and quick circulation! and indeed we had no sooner supped, and my charmer withdrawn, than he began to out his threats in execution. Three bottles of port (for he drank no other sort of wine) were placed be|fore us, with as many water-glasses, which were immedi|ately filled to the brim, after his example, by each out of his respective allowance, and emptied in a trice, to the best in Christendom.—Though I swallowed this, and the next as fast as the glass could be replenished, without hesita|tion or shew of reluctance, I perceived that my brain would

not be able to bear many bumpers of this sort; and dread|ing the perseverance of a champion who began with such vigour, I determined to make up for the deficiency of my strength by a stratagem, which I actually put in practice when the second course of bottles was called for.—The wine being strong and heady, I was already a good deal discomposed by the dispatch we had made; Freeman's eyes began to reel, and Bruin himself was elevated into a song, which he uttered with great vociferation. When I therefore saw the second round brought in, I assumed a gay air, entertained him with a French catch on the subject of drinking, which, though he did not understand, delighted him highly, and, telling him that your choice spirits at Paris never troubled them|selves with glasses, asked if he had not a bowl or cup in the house that would contain a whole quart of wine.—"Odds niggers!" cried he,

I have a silver caudle|cup that holds just the quantity, for all the world—fetch it hither, Numps.

—The vessel being produced, I bid him decant his bottle into it, which having done, I nodded in a very deliberate manner, and said,

I pledge you.

—He stared at me for some time, and crying, "What, all at one pull! Measter Randan?"—I answer|ed,

At one pull, Sir; you are no milk sop—we shall do you justice.

—"Shall you?" said he, shaking me by the hand,

odd, then, I'll see it out, an't were a mile to the bottom—Here's to our better acquaintance, Measter Randan.

So saying he applied it to his lips, and emptied it in a breath.—I knew the effect of it would be almost instantaneous; therefore, taking the cup, I began to discharge my bottle into it, telling him he was now qualified to drink with the Cham of Tartary.—I had no sooner pronounced these words, than he took umbrage at them, and after several attempts to spit, made shift to stutter out,

A f—t f—t for your Chams of T—Tartary! I am a f—f—free-born Englishman, worth th—three thousand a-year, and v—value no man, damme!

—then dropping his jaw, and fixing his eyes, he hickuped aloud, and fell upon the floor as mute as a flounder.—Mr. Freeman heartily rejoiced at his defeat, assisted me in carrying him to bed, where we le••t him to the care of his servants, and went home to our re|spective

habitations, congratulating one another on our good fortune.

CHAP. XXI.

Miss Williams informs me of Narcissa's approbation of my flame—I appease the squire—write to my mistress—am blessed with an answer—beg leave of her brother to dance with her at a ball; obtain his consent and her's—enjoy a private conversation with her—am perplexed with reflec|tions—have the honour of appearing her partner at the ••all—we are complimented by a certain nobleman—he dis|covers some symptoms of passion for Narcissa—I am stung with jealousy—Narcissa, alarmed, retires—I observe Me|linda in the company—the squire is captivated by her beauty.

I WAS met next morning at the usual place by Miss Williams, who gave me joy of the progress I had made in the affection of her mistress, and blessed me with an ac|count of that dear creature's conversation with her, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 she had retired the night before from our company 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could scarce believe her information, when she recounted her expressions in my favour, so much more warm and passionate were they than my most sanguine hopes had presaged; and was particularly pleased to hear that she approved of my behaviour to her brother, after she with|drew. Transported at the news of my happiness, I presented my ring to the messenger, as a testimony of my gratitude and satisfaction; but she was above such merce|nary considerations, and refused my compliment with some resentment, saying, she was not a little mortified to see my opinion of her so low and contemptible.—I did myself a piece of justice by explaining my behaviour on this head, and to convince her of my esteem, promised to be ruled by her directions in the prosecution of the whole affair, which I had so much at heart, that the repose of my life depended upon the consequence.

As I fervently wished for another interview, where I might pour out the effusions of my love, without danger of being interrupted, and perhaps reap some endearing return from the queen of my desires, I implored her ad|vice

and assistance in promoting this event; but she gave me to understand, that Narcissa would make no precipi|tate compliances of this kind, and that I would do well to cultivate her brother's acquaintance, in the course of which I would not want opportunities of removing that reserve; which my mistress thought herself obliged to maintain during the infancy of our correspondence.—In the mean time, she promised to tell her lady, that I had endeavoured by presents and persuasions, to prevail upon her (Miss Williams) to deliver a letter from me, which she had refused to charge herself with, until she should know Narcissa's sentiments of the matter; and said, by these means she did not doubt of being able to open a li|terary communication between us, which could not fail of introducing more intimate connections.

I approved of her council, and our appointment being renewed for next day, left her with an intent of falling upon some method of being reconciled to the squire, who, I supposed, would be offended with the trick we had put upon him.—With this view, I consulted Freeman, who, from his knowledge of the fox-hunter's disposition, assured me there was no other method of pacifying him, than that of sacrificing ourselves for one night, to an equal match with him in drinking: this I found myself neces|siated to comply with, for the interest of my passion, and therefore determined to commit the debauch at my own lodgings, that I might run no risk of being discovered by Narcissa, in a state of brutal degeneracy.—Mr. Freeman, who was to be of the party, went, at my desire, to the squire in order to engage him, while I took care to fur|nish myself for his reception.—My invitation was accept|ed, my guests honoured me with their company in the evening, when Bruin gave me to understand that he had dr•••••• many tuns of wine in his life, but was never served such a trick as I had played upon him the night before. I promised to atone for my trespass, and having ordered to every man his bottle, began the contest with a bumper to the health of Narcissa.—The toasts circulated with great devotion, the liquor began to operate, our mirth grew noisy, and as Freeman and I had the advantage of drinking small French claret, the savage was effectually

tamed, before our senses were in the least affected, and carried home in an apoplexy of drunkenness.

I was next morning, as usual, favoured with a visit from my kind and punctual confidante, who telling me, she was permitted to receive my letters for her mistress, I took up the pen immediately, and following the first dic|tates of my passion, wrote as follows:

DEAR MADAM,

WERE it possible for the powers of utterance to re|veal the soft emotions of my soul, the fond anxiety, the glowing hopes, the chilling fears, that rule my breast by turns, I should need no other witness than this pa|per to evince the purity and ardor of that flame your charms have kindled in my heart. But alas! expres|sion wrongs my love! I am inspired with conceptions that no language can convey! Your beauty fills me with ••onder, your understanding with ravishment! and your goodness with adoration! I am transported with desire, distracted with doubts, and tortured with im|patience! Suffer me then, lovely arbitress of my fate, to approach you in person, to breath in soft murmurs my passion to your ear, and offer the sacrifice of a heart overflowing with the most genuine and disinterested love; to gaze with extasy on the divine object of my wishes, to hear the music of her enchanting tongue! to rejoice in her smiles of approbation which will banish the most intolerable suspence from the bosom of

Your enraptured R—R—.

Having finished this effusion, I committed it to the care of my faithful friend, with an injunction to second my in|treaty with all her eloquence and influence; and in the mean time went to dress, with an intention of visiting Mrs. Snapper and Miss, whom I had utterly neglected, and indeed almost forgot, since my dear Narcissa had re|sumed the empire of my soul. The old gentlewoman re|ceived me very kindly, and Miss affected a frankness and gaiety, which, however, I could easily perceive was forced and dissembled; among other things, she pretended to joke me upon my passion for Narcissa, which she averred

was no secret, and asked, if I intended to dance with her at the next assembly.—I was a good deal concerned to find myself become the town talk on this subject, lest the squire, having notice of my inclinations, should disapprove of them, and, by breaking off all correspondence with me, deprive me of the opportunities I now enjoyed.—But I resolved to use the interest I had with him, while it lasted; and that very night meeting him occasionally, asked his permission to solicit her company at the ball, which he very readily granted to my inexpressible satisfaction.

Having been kept awake the greatest part of the night, by a thousand delightful reveries that took possession of my fancy, I got up betimes, and flying to the place of rendezvous, had in a little time the pleasure of seeing Miss Williams approach, with a smile on her countenance, which I interpreted into a good omen. Neither was I mistaken in my presage: she presented me with a letter from the idol of my soul, which, after having kissed it devoutly, I opened with the utmost eagerness, and was blessed with her approbation in these terms:

SIR,

To say I look upon you with indifference, would be a piece of dissimulation, which, I think, no decorum requires, and no custom can justify. As my heart ne|ver felt an impression that my tongue was ashamed to declare, I will not scruple to own myself pleased with your passion, confident of your integrity, and so well convinced of my own discretion, that I should not he|sitate in granting you the interview you desire, were I not over-awed by the prying curiosity of a malicious world, the censure of which might be fatally prejudicial to the reputation of

Your NARCISSA.

No anchorite, in the extasy of devotion, ever adored a relic with more ••ervour than that with which I kissed this inimitable proof of my charmer's candour, generosity, and affection! I read it over an hundred times; was ravished with her confession in the beginning; but the subscription of Your NARCISSA, yielded me such delight as I had ne|ver

felt before! My happiness was still increased by Miss Williams, who blessed me with a repetition of her lady's tender expressions in my favour, when she received and read my letter.—In short, I had all the reason in the world to believe that this gentle creature's bosom was pos|sessed by a passion for me, as warm, though perhaps not so impetuous, as mine for her.

I informed my friend of the squire's consent, with re|gard to my dancing with Narcissa at the ball, and desired her to tell her mistress, that I would do myself the honour of visiting her in the afternoon, in consequence of his per|mission, when I hoped to find her as indulgent as her bro|ther had been complaisant in that particular.—Miss Wil|liams expressed a good deal of joy, at hearing I was so much in favour with the fox-hunter, and ventured to as|sure me, that my visit would be very agreeable to my mi|stress, the rather because Bruin was engaged to dine abroad. This was a circumstance which I scarce need say, pleased me.—I went immediately to the Long room, where I found him, and affecting to know nothing of his engagement, told him, I would do myself the pleasure to wait upon him in the afternoon, and to present his sister with a ticket for the ball.—He shook me by the hand, according to custom, and giving me to understand that he was to dine abroad, desired me to go and drink tea with Narcissa notwithstanding, and promised to prepare her for my visit in the mean time.

Every thing succeeding thus to my wish, I waited with incredible impatience for the time, which no sooner arrived, than I hastened to the scene, which my fancy had pre-oc|cupied long before. I was introduced accordingly to the dear enchantress, whom I found accompanied by Miss Williams, who, on pretence of ordering tea, retired at my approach.—This favourable accident, which alarmed my whole soul, disordered her also.—I found myself ac|tuated by an irresistible impulse, I advanced to her with eagerness and awe; and profiting by the confusion that prevailed over her, clasped the fair angel in my arms, and imprinted a glowing kiss upon her lips, more soft and fragrant than the dewy rose-bud, just bursting from the stem! Her face was in an instant covered with blushes, her eyes sparkled with resentment; I threw myself at her feet

and implored her pardon.—Her love became an advocate in my cause; her look softened into forgiveness; she raised me up, and chid me with so much sweetness of displeasure, that I should have been tempted to repeat the offence, had not the coming in of a servant with the tea-board, pre|vented my presumption. While we were subject to be in|terrupted or overheard, we conversed about the approach|ing ball, at which she promised to grace me as a partner; but when the equipage was removed, and we were left alone, I resumed the more interesting theme, and expressed myself with such transport and agitation, that my mistress, fearing I would commit some extravagance, rung the bell for her maid, whom she detained in the room, as a check upon my vivacity.—I was not sorry for this precaution, because I could unbosom myself without reserve, before Miss Williams, who was the confidante of us both.—I therefore gave a loose to the inspirations of my passion, which operated so successfully upon the tender affections of Narcissa, that she laid aside the constraint she had hitherto wore, and blessed me with the most melting declaration of her mutual flame!—It was impossible for me to forbear taking the advantage of this endearing condescension.—She now gently yielded to my embrace, while I, encir|cling all that I held dear within my arms, tasted, in ad|vance, the joys of that paradise I hoped, in a little time, wholly to possess!—We spent the afternoon in all the extasy of hope that the most fervent love, exchanged by mutual vows, could inspire; and Miss Williams was so much affected with our chaste caresses, which recalled the sad remembrance of what she was, that her eyes were filled with tears.

The evening being pretty far advanced, I forced myself from the dear object of my flame, who indulged me in a tender embrace at parting; and, repairing to my lodgings, communicated to my friend Strap every circumstance of my happiness, which filled him with so much pleasure, that it ran over at his eyes, and he prayed heartily, that no envious devil might, as formerly, dash the cup of bles|sing from my lip. When I reflected on what had happen|ed, and especially on the unreserved protestations of Nar|cissa's love, I could not help being amazed at her omitting to inquire into the particular circumstances of the life and

fortune of one whom she had favoured with her affection, and I began to be a little anxious about the situation of her finances, well knowing, that I should do an irrepar|able injury to the person my soul held most dear, if I should espouse her without being able to support her in the rank which was certainly her due. I had heard, in|deed, while I served her aunt, that her father had left her a considerable sum, and that every body believed she would inherit the greatest part of her kinswoman's dowry; but I did not know how far she might be restricted by the old gentleman's will, in the enjoyment of what he left her, and I was too well informed of the virtuoso's late conduct, to think my mistress could have any expectations from that quarter. I confided, however, in the good sense and po|licy of my charmer, who, I was sure, would not consent to unite her fate with mine, before she had fully considered and provided for the consequence.

The ball-night being arrived, I dressed myself in a suit I had reserved for some grand occasion, and, having drank tea with Narcissa and her brother, conducted my angel to the scene, where she in a moment eclipsed all her female competitors for beauty, and attracted the admiration of the whole assembly. My heart dilated with pride on this occasion, and my triumph rejected all bounds, when, after we had danced together, a certain nobleman, remarkable for his figure and influence in the beau monde, came up, and, in the hearing of all present, honoured us with a very particular compliment upon our accomplishments and appearance—but this transport was soon checked, when I perceived his lordship attach himself with great assiduity to my mistress, and say some warm things, which I thought savoured too much of passion. It was then I began to feel the pangs of jealousy—I dreaded the power and address of my rival. I sickened at his discourse.—When she opened her lips to answer, my heart died within me—when she smiled, I felt the pains of the damned!—I was enraged at his presumption; I cursed her complaisance!—At length he quitted her, and went to the other side of the room. Narcissa, suspecting nothing of the rage that inflamed me, put some questions to me as soon as he was gone, to which I made no reply, but assumed a grim look, which too well denoted the agitation of my breast, and

surprised her not a little. She no sooner observed my emo|tion than she changed colour, and asked what ailed me? but, before I could make an answer, her brother, pulling me by the sleeve, bid me take notice of a lady who sat fronting us, whom I immediately, to my vast astonishment, distinguished to be Melinda, accompanied by her mother, and an elderly gentleman whom I did not know.—"Wound! Mr. Randan," cried the squire,

is she not a delicate piece of stuff!—'Sdeath! I have a good mind—if I thought she was a single person.

—Notwith|standing the perplexity I was in, I had reflection enough to foresee, that my passion might suffer greatly by the pre|sence of this lady, who in all probability would revenge herself upon me for having formerly disgraced her, by spreading reports to my prejudice. I was therefore alarm|ed at these symptoms of the squire's admiration, and for some time did not know what reply to make, when he asked my opinion of her beauty. At length I came to a determination, and told him that her name was Melinda, that she had a fortune of ten thousand pounds, and was said to be under promise of marriage to a certain lord, who deferred his nuptials until he should be of age, which would happen in a few months. I thought this piece of intelligence, which I had myself invented, would have hindered him effectually from entertaining any farther thoughts of her; but I was egregiously mistaken; the fox|hunter had too much self-sufficiency to despair of success against any competitor on earth: he therefore made light of her engagement, saying with a smile of self approbation,

Mayhap she will change her mind—what signifies his being a lord?—I think myself as good a man as e'er a lord in Christendom, and I'll see if a commoner worth three thousand a-year won't serve her turn.

This de|termination startled me not a little; I knew he would soon discover the contrary of what I advanced, and, as I be|lieved he would find her ear open to his addresses, did not doubt of meeting with every obstacle in my amour, that her malice could invent, and her influence with him exe|cute. This reflection increased my chagrin—my vexation was evident—Narcissa insisted on going home immediately, and as I led her to the door, her noble admirer, with a look full of languishment, directed to her a profound bow,

which stung me to the soul. Before she went into the chair, she asked, with an appearance of concern, what was the matter with me? and I could pronounce no more than, "By Heaven! I'm distracted!"

CHAP. XXII.

Tortured with jealousy, I go home and abuse Strap—receive a message from Narcissa, in consequence of which I hasten to her apartment, where her endearing assurances banish all my doubts and apprehensions—in my retreat discover somebody in the dark, whom, suspecting to be a spy, I re|solve to kill; but, to my great surprise, am convinced of his being no other than Strap—Melinda slanders me—I become acquainted with Lord Quiverwit, who endeavours to sound me with regard to Narcissa—the squire is intro|duced to his lordship, and grows cold towards me—I learn from my confidante, that this nobleman professes honourable love to my mistress, who continues faithful to me, notwith|standing the scandalous reports she has heard to my pre|judice—I am mortified with an assurance that her whole fortune depends upon the pleasure of her brother—Mr. Free|man condoles me on the decline of my character, which I vindicate so much to his satisfaction, that he undertakes to combat fame in my behalf.

HAVING uttered this exclamation, at which she sighed. I went home in the condition of a frantic bedlamite, and, finding the fire in my apartment almost extinguished, vented my fury upon poor Strap, whose ear I pinched with such violence, that he roared hideously with pain, and, when I quitted my hold, looked so foolishly aghast, that no unconcerned spectator could have seen him without being seized with an immoderate fit of laughter. It is true, I was soon sensible of the injury I had done, and asked pardon for the outrage I had committed; upon which my faithful valet, shaking his head, said,

I for|give you, and may God forgive you.

—But he could not help shedding some tears at my unkindness. I felt unspeakable remorse for what I had done, cursed my own ingratitude, and considered his tears as a reproach that my soul, in her present disturbance, could not bear.—It

set all my passions into a ferment; I swore horrible oaths without meaning or application; I foamed at the mouth, kicked the chairs about the room, and played abundance of mad pranks that frightened my friend almost out of his senses.—At length my transport subsided, I became melan|choly, and wept insensibly.

During this state of dejectio••, I was surprised with the appearance of Miss Williams, whom Strap, blubbering all the while, had conducted into the chamber, without giving me previous notice of her approach.—She was ex|tremely affected with my condition, which she had learned from him, begged me to moderate my passion, suspend my conjectures, and follow her to Narcissa, who desired to see me forthwith.—That dear name operated upon me like a charm! I started up, and, without opening my lips, was conducted into her apartment, through the garden, which we entered by a private door.—I found the ador|able creature in tears! I was melted at the sight—we con|tinued silent for some time—my heart was too full to speak—her snowy bosom heaved with fond resentment; at last she sobbing, cried

what have I done to disoblige you!

My heart was pierced with the tender question! I drew near with the utmost reverence of affection! I fell upon my knees before her, and kissing her hand, exclaim|ed,

O! thou art all goodness and perfection! I am un|done by my want of merit! I am unworthy to possess thy charms, which heaven hath destined for the arms of some more favoured being.

She guessed the cause of my disquiet, upbraided me gently for my suspicion, and gave me such flattering assurances of her eternal fidelity, that all my doubts and fears forsook me, and peace and satisfaction reigned within my breast.

At midnight I left the kind nymph to her repose, and being let out by Miss Williams at the garden gate, by which I entered, began, to explore my way homeward in the dark, when I heard at my back a noise like that of a baboon when he mows and chatters. I turned instantly▪ and, perceiving something black, concluded I was disco|vered by some spy, employed to watch for that purpose. Aroused at this conjecture, by which the reputation of the virtuous Narcissa appeared in jeopardy, I drew my sword, and would have sacrificed him to her ••ame, had not the

voice of Strap restrained my arm: it was with great dif|ficulty he could pronounce,

D—d—d—do! mum—um—um—murder me, if you please!

Such an effect had the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his jaws, that his teeth rattled like a pair of castanets 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Pleased to be thus undeceived, I laughed at his consternation, and asked what brought him thither? Upon which he gave me to understand, that his concern for me had induced him to follow me to that place, where the same reason had detained him till now, and he frankly owned, that, in spite of the esteem he had for Miss Wil|liams, he began to be very uneasy about me, considering the disposition in which I went abroad, and, if I had staid much longer, would have certainly alarmed the neigh|bourhood in my behalf. The knowledge of this his inten|tion confounded me! I represented to him the mischievious consequences that would have attended such a rash action, and, cautioning him severely against any such design for the future, concluded my admonition with an assurance, that, in case he should ever act so madly, I would, with|out hesitation, put him to death.—

Have a little pa|tience,

cried he in a lamentable tone;

your displea|sure will do the business, without your committing murder.

I was touched with this reproach, and, as soon as we got home, made it my business to appease him by explaining the cause of that transport, during which I had used him so unworthily.

Next day, when I went into the Long-room, I obser|ved several whispers circulate all of a sudden, and did not doubt that Melinda had been busy with my character; but I consoled myself with the love of Narcissa, upon which I rested with the most perfect confidence, and, going up to the rowly-powly table, won a few pieces from my suspected rival, who with an easy politeness entered into conversation with me, and, desiring my company at the coffee-house, treated me with tea and chocolate. I remem|bered Strutwell, and guarded against his insinuating be|haviour; nor was my suspicion wrong placed; he artfully turned the discourse upon Narcissa, and endeavoured, by hinting at an intrigue he pretended to be engaged in else|where, to learn what connection there was between her and me. But all his finesse was ineffectual; I was con|vinced of his dissimulation, and gave such general answers

to his enquiries, that he was forced to drop the subject, and talk of something else.

While we conversed in this manner, the savage came in with another gentleman, who introduced him to his lord|ship; and he was received with such peculiar marks of distinction, that I was persuaded that the courtier intend|ed to use him in some shape or other, and thence I con|ceived an unlucky omen. But I had more cause to be dismayed the following day, when I saw the squire in company with Melinda and her mother, who honoured me with several disdainful glances; and when I afterwards threw myself in his way, instead of the cordial shake of the hand, he returned my salute with the cold reception of

Ser|vant, servant,

which he pronounced with such indif|ference, or rather contempt, that, if he had not been Narcissa's brother, I should have affronted him in public.

These occurrences disturbed me not a little; I foresaw the brooding storm, and armed myself with resolution for the occasion; but, Narcissa being at stake, I was far from being resigned. I could have renounced every other com|fort of life with some degree of fortitude; but the prospect of losing her, disabled all my philosophy, and tortured my soul into madness.

Miss Williams found me next morning full of anxious tumult, which did not abate when she told me, that my Lord Quiverwit, having professed honourable intentions, had been introduced to my lovely mistress by her brother, who had at the same time, from the information of Me|linda, spoke of me as an Irish fortune-hunter, without either birth or estate to recommend me, who supported myself in the appearance of a gentleman by sharping and other infamous practices, and who was of such an obscure origin, that I did not even know my own extraction.—Though I expected all this, I could not hear it with tem|per, especially as truth was so blended with falshood in the assertion, that it would be almost impossible to sepa|rate the one from the other in my vindication. But I said nothing on this head, being impatient to know how Nar|cissa had been affected with the discovery. The generous creature, far from believing these imputations, was no sooner withdrawn with her confidante than she inveighed with great warmth against the malevolence of the world,

to which only she ascribed the whole of what had been said to my disadvantage, and, calling every circumstance of my behaviour to her, into review before her, found every thing so polite, honourable, and disinterested, that she could not harbour the least doubt of my being the gen|tleman I ass••med. "I have indeed," said she,

pur|posely forbore to ask the particulars of his life, lest the recapitulation of some misfortunes, which he has un|dergone, should give him pain; and, as to the article of his fortune, I own myself equally afraid of inquiring into it, and of discovering the situation of my own, lest we should find ourselves both unhappy in the ex|planation; for alas! my provision is conditional, and depends entirely on my mar••••ing with my brother's consent.

Thunderstruck with this intelligence, the light forsook my eyes, the colour vanished from my cheeks, and I remained in a state of universal trepidation! My female friend, perceiving my disorder, encouraged me with assurances of Narcissa's constancy, and the hope of some accident favourable to our love, and, as a further consola|tion, let me know, that she had acquainted my mistress with the outlines of my life, and that, although she was no stranger to the present low state of my finances, her love and esteem were rather increased than diminished by the knowledge of my circumstances. I was greatly com|forted by this assurance, which ••aved me a world of con|fusion and anxiety; for I must have imparted my situation one day to Narcissa, and this I could not have performed without shame and disorder.

As I did not doubt that, by this time, the scandalous aspersions of Melinda were diffused all over the town, I re|solved to recollect my whole strength of assurance to brow|beat the effor•• of her malice, and to publish her adventure with the Frenchified barber by way of reprisal. In the mean time, having promised to be at the garden-gate about midnight, Miss Williams 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her leave, bidding me repose myself entirely on the affection of my dear Nar|cissa, which was as perfect as in••iolable. Before I went abroad I was visited by Freeman, who came on purpose to inform me of the infamous stories that were raised at my expence: I heard them with great temper, and in my turn disclosed every thing that had happened between

Melinda and me, and among other things, enter|tained him with the story of the barber, letting him know what share his friend Banter had in that affair. He was convinced of the injury my reputation had suffered, and no longer doubting the fountain from whence this deluge of slander had flowed upon me, undertook to undeceive the town in my behalf, and roll the stream back upon its source, but in the mean time cautioned me from appearing in public, while the prepossession was strong against me, lest I should meet with some affront that might have bad consequences.

CHAP. XXIII.

I receive an extraordinary message at the door of the Long-room, which I however enter, and affront the squire, who threatens to take the law of me—Rebuke Melinda for her malice—she weeps with vexation—Lord Quiverwit is severe upon me—I retort his sarcasm—am received with the utmost tenderness by Narcissa, who desires to hear the history of my life—we vow eternal constancy to one another—I retire—am waked by a messenger who brings a challenge from Quiverwit, whom, I meet, engage, and vanquish.

I Thanked him for his advice, which, however, my pride and resentment would not permit me to follow; for he no sooner left me, in order to do justice to my character among his friends and acquaintance, than I sallied out, and went directly to the Long-room. I was met at the door by a servant, who presented to me a billet without a subscription, importing, that my presence was disagreeable to the company, and desiring I would take the hint with|out farther disturbance, and bestow myself elsewhere for the future. This peremptory message filled me with indig|nation—I followed the fellow who delivered it, and, sei|zing him by the collar in presence of all the company, threatened to put him instantly to death, if he did not discover the scoundrel who had charged him with such an impudent commission, that I might punish him as he de|served. The messenger, affrighted at my menaces and fu|rious looks, sell upon his knees, and told me, that the gentleman who ordered him to deliver the letter was no

other than Narcissa's brother, who at that time stood at the other end of the room talking to Melinda. I went up to him immediately, and, in the hearing of his inamorata, accosted him in these words:

Lookee, squire, was it not for one consideration that protects you from my re|sentment, I would cane you where you stand for having had the presumption to send me this scurrilous intima|tion,

which I tore to pieces, and threw in his face, at the same time darting an angry regard at his mistress, and telling her, I was sorry she had put it out of my power to compliment her upon her invention, but at the expence of her good nature and veracity. Her admirer, whose courage never rose but in proportion to the wine he had swallowed, instead of resenting my address in what is called an honourable way, threatened to prosecute me for an assault, and took witnesses accordingly, while she, piqued at his pusillanimous behaviour, and enraged at the sarcasm I had uttered against her, endeavoured to make her quar|rel a public cause, and wept aloud with spite and vexation. The tears of a lady could not fail of attracting the notice and concern of the spectators, to whom she complained of my rudeness with great bitterness, saying, if she was a man I durst not use her so. The greatest part of the gen|tlemen, already prejudiced against me, were offended at the liberty I had taken, as appeared from their looks, though none of them signified their disgust any other way, except my Lord Quiverwit, who ventured to say with a sneer, that I was in the right to establish my own charac|ter, of which he had now no longer any doubt. Nettled at this severe equivoque, which raised a laugh at my ex|pence, I replied with some warmth,

I am proud of having in that particular got the start of your lordship.

He made no answer to my repartee, but, with a con|temptuous smile, walked off, leaving me in a very disa|greeable situation. In vain did I make up to several peo|ple of my acquaintance, whose conversation, I hoped, would banish my confusion; every body shunned me like a person infected, and I should not have been able to ••ear my disgrace, had not the idea of the ever faithful and fond Narcissa come to my relief. I quitted the scene of my mortification, and, sauntering about the town, happened to wake from my contemplation, when I found myself

just opposite to a toy-shop, which I entered, and purcha|sed a ring set with a ruby in the form of a heart, surround|ed by diamond sparks, for which I paid ten guineas, in|tending it for a present to the charmer of my soul.

I was introduced, at the hour appointed, to this divine creature, who, notwithstanding what she had heard to my disadvantage, received me with the utmost confidence and tenderness, and, having been informed of the general sketches of my life by Miss Williams, expressed a desire of knowing the particular circumstances, which I related with great candour, omitting, however, some things which I concluded altogether improper for her ear, and which the reader's reflection will easily suggest. As my story was little else than a recital of misfortunes, the tear of sympa|thy ceased not to trickle from her enchanting eyes during the whole of the narration, which, when I had finished, she recompensed me for my trouble with the most endearing protestations of eternal love. She bewailed her restricted condition, as it was the means of retarding my happiness; told me▪ that Lord Quiverwit, by her brother's permis|sion, had been to drink tea with her that very afternoon, and actually proposed marriage; and, seeing me extremely affected with this piece of information, offered to give me a convincing proof of her affection by espousing me in pri|vate, and leaving the rest to fate. I was penetrated with this instance of her regard, but, that I might not be out|done in generosity, resisted the bewitching temptation, in consideration of her honour and interest; at the same time presented my ring as a pledge of my inviolable attach|ment, and on my knees implored Heaven to shower its curses on my head, if ever my heart should entertain one thought unworthy of the passion I then avowed. She re|ceived my token, gave me in return her picture set in minia|ture, exquisitely drawn, and set in gold, and in the same posture called Heaven to witness, and to judge her flame. Our vows thus reciprocally breathed, a confidence of hope ensued, and, our mutual fondness becoming as intimate as innocence would allow, I grew insensible of the progress of time, and it was morning before I could tear myself from this darling of my soul! My good angel foresaw what would happen, and permitted me to indulge myself

on this occasion, in consideration of the fatal absence I was doomed to suffer.

I went to bed immediately on my return to my lodging, and having slept about two hours, was waked by Strap, who, in great confusion, told me there was a footman be|low with a letter for me, which he would deliver to no|body but myself.—Alarmed at this piece of news, I de|sired my friend to shew him up to my chamber, and re|ceived a letter from him, which he said, required an im|mediate answer: upon which I opened it and read:

SIR,

WHEN any man injures my honour, let the differ|ence of rank between us be ever so great, I am con|tented to wave the privilege of my quality, and to seek reparation from him on equal terms.—The insolence of your reply to me yesterday, in the Long-room, I might have overlooked, had not your presumptive emulation in a much more interesting affair, and a discovery, which I made this morning, concurred in persuading me to chastise your audacity with my sword.—If you, therefore, have spirit enough to support the character you assume, you will not fail to follow the bearer im|mediately to a convenient place, where you shall be met by

QUIVERWIT.

Whether I was enervated by the love and favour of Narcissa, or awed by the superior station of my antago|nist, I know not, but I never had a less inclination to fight than at this time: however, finding there was a ne|cessity for vindicating the reputation of my mistress, as well as for asserting my own honour, I forthwith rose, and dressing in a hurry, put on my sword, bid Strap at|tend me, and set out with my conductor, cursing my bad fortune all the way, for having been observed in my re|turn from my angel, for so I interpreted his Lordship's discovery.—When I came within sight of my rival, his lacquey told me he had orders to stop; upon which I commanded Strap to halt also, while I walked for|ward, resolved, if possible, to come to an explanation with my challenger, before we should come to battle.—

Nor was an opportunity wanting; for I no sooner ap|proached, than he asked, with a stern countenance, what business I had in Mr. Tophall's garden, so early in the morning?—"I don't know, my Lord," said I,

how to answer a question put to me with such a magisterial haughtiness.—If your Lordship will please to expostu|late calmly, you will have no cause to repent of your condescension—otherwise, I am not to be intimidated into any confession.

—"There's no room for denial," answered he, "I saw you come out with my own eyes."—Did any other person see me?" said I.—

I neither know nor care,

said he:

I want no other evidence that that of my own senses.

—Pleased to hear that the suspicion was confined to him alone, I endeavoured to ap|pease his jealousy, by owning an intrigue with the waiting maid; but he had too much discernment to be so easily imposed upon; and told me there was only one way to convince him of the truth of what I alledged, which was no other than renouncing all claim to Narcissa upon oath, and promising upon honour, never to speak to her for the future.—Exasperated at this proposal, I unsheathed my sword, saying,

Heavens! what title have you or any man on earth to impose such terms on me!

He did the same, and, making towards me, with a contracted brow, said I was a villain, and had dishonoured Narcissa.—"He's a scandalous villain," I replied in a transport of fury,

who brands me with that imputation! She is a thousand times more chaste than the mother that bore you; and I will assert her honour with my heart's blood!

So saying, I rushed upon him with more eagerness than address, and, endeavouring to get within his point, received a wound in my neck, which redoubled my rage.—He excelled me in temper as well as in skill, by which means he parried my thrusts with great calm|ness, until I had almost exhausted my spirits; and when he perceived me beginning to flag, attacked me fiercely in his turn.—Finding himself, however, better opposed than he expected, he resolved to follow his longe, and close with me; accordingly, his sword entered my waist|coat, on the side of the breast-bone, and running up be|tween my shirt and skin, appeared above my left shoulder: I imagined that his weapon had perforated my lungs,

and, of consequence, that the wound was mortal; there|fore determined not to die unrevenged, I seized his shell, which was close to my breast, before he could disentangle his point, and keeping it fast with my left hand, shorten|ed my own sword with my right, intending to run him through the heart; but he received the thrust in his left arm, which penetrated up to the shoulder blade.—Disap|pointed in this expectation, and afraid still that death would frustrate my revenge, I grappled with him, and being much the stronger, threw him upon the ground, where I wrested his sword out of his hand; and so great was my confusion, instead of turning the point upon him, struck out three of his fore-teeth with the hilt.—In the mean time, our servants seeing us fall, ran up to separate and assist us; but before their approach, I was upon my feet, and had discovered that my supposed mortal wound was only a slight scratch. The knowledge of my own safety disarmed me of a good deal of resentment, and I began to enquire with some concern into the situation of my antagonist, who remained on the ground, bleeding plentifully at his mouth and arm.—I helped his footman to raise him, and, having bound up his wound with my handkerchief, assured him it was not dangerous; I like|wise restored his sword, and offered to support him to his own house.—He thanked me with an air of sullen dignity; and whispering to me, that I should hear from him soon, went away, leaning on his servant's shoulder.

I was surprised at this promise, which I construed into a threat, and resolved, if ever he should call me out again, to use whatever advantage fortune might give me over him in another manner.—In the mean time, I had leisure to take notice of Strap, who seemed quite stupified with horror: I comforted him with an as|surance that I had received no damage, and explained the nature of this affair, as we walked homeward.—By that time I had got into my apartment, I found the wound in my neck stiff and uneasy, and a good deal of clotted blood run down upon my shirt: upon which I pulled off my coat and waistcoat, and unbuttoned my collar, that I might dress 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with more ease.—My friend no sooner perceived my shirt quite dyed with blood, than imagining I had got at least twenty dreadful wounds, he

cried, "O Jesus!" and fell flat on the floor.—I stopt the bleeding with a little dry lint, and applying a plaister over it, cleaned myself from the gore, shifted and dressed, while he lay senseless at my feet; so that when he reco|vered and saw me perfectly well, he could scarce believe his own eyes.—Now that the danger was past, I was ve|ry well pleased with what had happened, which I did not doubt would soon become known, and, consequently, dig|nify my character not a little in this place—I was also proud of having shewn myself, in some shape, worthy of the love of Narcissa, who, I was persuaded, would not think the worse of me for what I had done.

CHAP. XXIV.

I am visited by Freeman, with whom I appear in public, and am caressed—am sent for by Lord Quiverwit, whose presence I quit in a passion—Narcissa is carried off by her brother—I intend to pursue him, and am dissuaded by my friend—engage in play, and lose all my money—set out for London—try my fortune at the gaming-table without suc|cess—receive a letter from Narcissa—bilk my taylor.

WHILE I entertained myself with these reflections, the news of the duel being communicated by some unknown channel, spread all over the town.—I was visit|ed by Freeman, who testified his surprise at finding me, having been told, that Lord Quiverwit being dead of his wounds, I had absconded, in order to avoid the cogni|zance of the law. I asked if people guessed the occasion of the quarrel; and understanding it was attributed to his Lordship's resentment of my reply in the Long-room, confirmed that conjecture, glad to find Narcissa unsuspect|ed.—My friend, after I had assured him that my antago|nist was in no danger, wished me joy of the event, than which, he said, nothing could happen more opportunely to support the idea he had given of my character to his friends, among whom he had been very assiduous in my behalf.

On the strength of this assurance, I went with him to the coffee-house, where I was saluted by a great many of those very persons who shunned me the preceding day.—

And I ••ound every body making merry with the story of Melinda's French gallant.—While I remained in this place, I received a message from Lord Quiverwit, desiring, if I was not engaged, to see him at his house.

Thither I immediately repaired, and was conducted to an apartment, where I was received by his Lordship in bed. Being left by ourselves, he thanked me in very po|lite terms, for having used the advantage fortune had given me over him, with such moderation; and asked par|don for any offence his resentment might have prompted him to commit.—"I would willingly," said he,

make you my friend; but as it is impossible for me to divest myself of my passion for Narcissa, I am too well convin|ced of your sentiments, to think we shall ever agree on that subject. I took the liberty, therefore, of sending for you, in order to own candidly, that I cannot help opposing your success with that young lady; though at the same time I promise to regulate my opposition by the dictates of justice and honour: this, however, I think proper to advertise you of, that she has no inde|pendent fortune, and if you should even succeed in your addresses, you would have the mortification to see her reduced to indigence, unless you have wherewithal to support her—and I am credibly informed of your inca|pacity that way.—Nay, I must confess, that, urged by that consideration, I have actually sent notice to her brother, of the progress I suspect you have made in her affection, and desired him to take his precautions ac|cordingly.

—Alarmed and provoked at this informa|tion, I told his Lordship, that I did not see how he could reconcile that piece of conduct with his profession of open dealing, and flung away from him in a passion.

As I walked homeward, in hopes of hearing from my mistress as usual, by means of Miss Williams, I was sur|prised with the waving of a handkerchief, from the win|dow of a coach and six that passed by me at full speed; and upon further observation, I saw a servant on horse|back riding after it, who, I knew by his livery, belong|ed to the squire.—Thunderstruck with this discovery, the knowledge of my misfortune rushed all at once upon my reflection! I guessed immediately that the signal was made by the dear hand of Narcissa, who being hurried away in

consequence of Lord Quiverwit's message to her brother, had no other method of relating her distress, and implor|ing my assistance.—Frantic with this conjecture, I ran to my lodgings, snatched my pistols, and ordered Strap to get post horses, with such incoherence of speech and dis|order, that the poor valet, terrified with the suspicion of another duel, instead of providing what I desired, went forthwith to Freeman, who being informed of my beha|viour came straight to my apartment, and conjured me so pathetically to acquaint him with the cause of my un|easiness, that I could not refuse to tell him that my hap|piness was fled with Narcissa, and that I must retrieve her or perish. He represented the madness of such an under|taking, and endeavoured to divert me from it, with great strength of friendship and reason: but all his arguments would have been ineffectual, had he not put me in mind of the dependence I ought to have on the love of Narcissa, and attachment of her maid, which could not fail of find|ing opportunities enough to advertise me of their situa|tion; and, at the same time, demonstrated the injury my charmer's reputation must suffer from my precipitate re|treat. I was convinced and composed by these considera|tions. I appeared in company with an air of tranquillity, was well received by the best company in town, and my misfortune taking air condoled accordingly; while I had the satisfaction of seeing Melinda so universally discounte|nanced, that she was fain to return to London, in order to avoid the scoffs and censure of the ladies at Bath.—But though the hope of hearing from the darling of my soul supported my spirits a little while, I began to be very un|easy, when, at the end of several weeks, I found that ex|pectation disappointed.—In short, melancholy and de|spondence took possession of my soul; and repining at that providence, which, by acting the step-mother towards me, kept me from the fruition of my wishes, I determin|ed, in a fit of despair, to risk all I had at the gaming-ta|ble, with a view of acquiring a fortune sufficient to ren|der me independent for life; or of plunging myself into such a state of misery, as would effectually crush every ambitious hope that now tortured my imagination.

Actuated by this fatal resolution, I engaged in play, and, after some turns of fortune, ••ound myself at the end

of three days, worth a thousand pounds; but it was not my intention to stop there, for which cause I kept Strap ignorant of my success, and continued my career until I was reduced to five guineas, which I would have hazard|ed also, had I not been ashamed to fall from a bett of two hundred pounds to such a petty sum.

Having thus executed my scheme, I went home, amaz|ed to find myself so much at ease, informed my friend Strap of my mischance, with such calmness, that he, ima|gining I joked, affected to receive the tidings with great equanimity.—But both he and I found ourselves mistaken very soon.—I had misinterpreted my own stupidity into deliberate resignation, and he had reason to believe me in earnest, when he saw me next morning agitated with the most violent despair, which he endeavoured to alleviate with all the consolation in his power.

In one of my lucid intervals, however, I charged him to take a place in the stage-coach for London; and in the mean time paid my debts in Bath, which amounted to thirty-shillings only.—Without taking leave of my friends, I embarked, Strap having the good fortune to find a return horse, and arrived in town without having met with any thing remarkable on the road, save that, while we crossed Bagshot heath, I was seized with a sort of inclination to retrieve my fortune, by laying passengers under contribution, in some such place.—My thoughts were so circumstanced at this time, that I should have di|gested the crime of robbery, so righteously had I concert|ed my plan▪ and ventured my life in the execution, had I not been deterred by reflecting upon the infamy that at tends detection.

The apartment I formerly lived in being unengaged, I took possession of it, and next day went in quest of Ban|ter, who received me with open arms, in expectation of having his bond discharged to his liking: but when he understood what had happened, his countenance changed of a sudden, and he told me, with a dryness of displeasure peculiar to himself, that if he was in my place he would put it out of fortune's power to play him such another trick, and be avenged of his own indiscretion at once.—When I desired him to explain his meaning, he pointed to his neck, raised himself on his tip-toes, and was going

away without further ceremony, when I put him in mind of my indigence, and demanded the five guineas I had formerly lent him. "Five guineas!" cried he,

Zounds, had you acted with common prudence, you might have had twenty thousand in your pocket by this time. I depended upon five hundred from you, as much as if I had had notes for it in the bank; and by all the rules of equity, you are indebted to me for that sum.

—I was neither pleased nor convinced by this computation, and insisted on my right with such determined obstinacy, that he was fain to alter his tone, and appease my clamour, by assuring me that he was not master of five shillings.—So|ciety in distress generally promotes good understanding among people; from being a dun, I descended to be a client, and asked his advice about repairing my losses.—He counselled me to have recourse again to the gaming-table, where I had succeeded so well before, and to put myself in a condition by selling my watch.—I followed his direction, and having accommodated him with a few pieces, went to the place, where I lost every shilling.

I returned to my lodgings full of desperate resolutions, and having made Strap acquainted with my fate, ordered him to pawn my sword immediately, that I might be enabled to make another effort.—This affectionate crea|ture no sooner understood my purpose, than seized with insupportable sorrow at the prospect of my misery, he burst into tears, and asked what I proposed to do after the small sum he could raise on the sword should be spent: "On my own account," said he,

I am quite uncon|cerned; for while God spares me health and these ten fingers, I can earn a comfortable subsistence any where; but what must become of you, who have less humility to stoop and more appetites to gratify?

—Here I in|terrupted him by saying, with a gloomy aspect, I should never want a resource while I had a loaded pistol in my possession.—Stupified with horror at this dreadful insinu|ation, he stood mute for some time, then broke out into

God of his infinite mercy enable you to withstand that temptation of the devil!—Consider your immortal soul!—there's no repentance in the grave!—O Lord, that ever it should come to this!—Are we not enjoined to resign ourselves to the will of Heaven? where is your pa|tience?

—Durum patientla frango—You are but a young man—there may be many good things in store for you—Accidit in punc••o quid non speratur in anno—Remember your uncle, Mr. Bowling; perhaps he is now on his voyage homeward, pleasing himself with the hopes of seeing and relieving you—nay, peradventure he is al|ready arrived, the ship was expected about this time.

—A ray of hope shot athwart the darkness of my soul at this suggestion; I thanked my friend for his seasonable recollection, and after having promised to take no resolu|tion till his return, dismissed him to Wapping for intelli|gence.

In his absence I was visited by Banter, who being in|formed of my bad luck at play, told me, that fortune would probably be one day weary of persecuting me.

In the mean time,

said he

here's a letter for you, which I received just now, inclosed in one from Free|man.

I snatched it with eagerness, and knowing the supersciption to be of Narcissa's hand-writing, kissed it with transport; and having opened it, read,

IT is with great difficulty that I have stolen from the observation of those spies who are set over me, this opportunity of telling you, that I was suddenly carried away from Bath, by my brother, who was informed of our correspondence by Lord Quiverwit, whom, I since understand you have wounded in a duel on my account. As I am fully convinced of your honour and love, I hope I shall never hear of such desperate proofs of ei|ther for the future. I am so strictly watched, that it will be impossible for you to see me, until my brother's suspicion shall abate, or Heaven contrive some other unforeseen event in our behalf. In the mean time you may depend on the constancy and affection of

Your own NARCISSA.

P. S. Miss Williams, who is my fellow-prisoner, de|sires to be remembered to you.—We are both in good health, and only in pain for you, especially as it will be impracticable for you to convey any

message or letter to the place of our confinement; for which reason, pray desist from the attempt, that by miscarrying might prolong our captivity.

N—.

This kind letter afforded me great consolation: I com|municated it to Banter, and at the same time shewed him her picture: he approved of her beauty and good sense, and could not help owning that my neglect of Miss Snapper was excusable, when such a fine creature engrossed my attention.

I began to be reconciled to my fate, and imagined, that if I could contrive means of subsisting until my un|cle should arrive, in case he was not already at home, he would enable me to do something effectual in behalf of my love and fortune. I therefore consulted Banter about a present supply, who no sooner understood that I had credit with a taylor, than he advised me to take off two or three suits of rich clothes, and convert them into cash, by selling them at half price to a salesman in Monmouth-street. I was startled at his proposal, which I thought favoured a little of fraud; but he rendered it palatable by observing that in a few months I might be in a condition to do every body justice; and in the mean time I was ac|quitted by the honesty of my intention. I suffered myself to be persuaded by his salvo, by which my necessity rather than my judgment was convinced; and when I found there were no accounts of the ship in which my uncle em|barked, actually put the scheme in practice, and raised by it five and twenty guineas, paying him for his advice with the odd five.

CHAP. XXV.

I am arrested—carried to the Marshalsea—find my old ac|quaintance beau Jackson in that jail—he informs me of his adventures—Strap arrives, and with difficulty is comforted—Jackson introduces me to a poet—I admire his conversation and capacity—am deeply affected with my misfortune—Strap hires himself as a journeyman barber.

BUT this expedient was in a few weeks attended with a consequence I did not foresee: a player having purchased one of the suits which were exposed to sale, ap|peared in it on the stage one night, while my taylor un|fortunately happened to be present.—He knew it immediately, and inquiring minutely into the affair, discovered my whole contrivance: upon which he came to my lodg|ings, and telling me that he was very much straitened for want of money, presented his bill, which amounted to 50l.—Surprised at this unexpected address, I affected to treat him cavalierly, swore some oaths, asked if he doubt|ed my honour, and telling him I should take care who I dealt with for the future, bid him come again in three days.—He obeyed me punctually, demanded his money, and finding himself amused with ••are promises, arrested me that very day in the street.—I was not much shocked at this adventure, which, indeed, rescued me from a hor|rible suspence in which I had lived since his first visit. I refused to go to a spunging-house, where I had heard there was nothing but the most flagrant imposition; and a coach being called, I was carried to the Marshalsea, at|tended by a bailiff and his follower, who were very much disappointed and chagrined at my resolution.

The turnkey guessing from my appearance, that I had money in my pocket, received me with the repetition of the Latin word depone, and gave me to understand, that I must pay before-hand for the apartment I should chuse to dwell in.—I desired to see his conveniences, and hired a small paultry bed chamber, for a crown a week, which, in any other place, would not have let for half the money.—Having taken possession of this dismal habitation, I

sent for Strap, and my thoughts were busied in collecting matter of consolation to that faithful squire, when some body knocked at my door, which I no sooner opened, than a young fellow entered, in very shabby clothes and marvellous soul linen. After a low bow, he called me by my name, and asked if I had forgot him. His voice assisted me in recollecting his person, which I soon recog|nized to be my old acquaintance beau Jackson, of whom mention is made in the first part of my memoirs.—I saluted him, expressed my satisfaction at finding him alive, and condoled with him on his present situation; which, how|ever, did not seem to affect him much, for he laughed very heartily at the occasion of our meeting so unexpectedly in this place.

After our mutual compliments were over, I inquired about his amour with the lady of fortune, which seemed to be so near a happy conclusion when I had the pleasure of seeing him last; and, after an immoderate fit of laugh|ter, he gave me to understand, that he had been egregi|ously bit in that affair. "You must know," said he,

that a few days after our adventure with the bawd and her b—ches, I found means to be married to that same fine lady you speak of, and passed the night with her, at her lodgings, so much to her satisfaction, that early in the morning, after a good deal of sniveling and sobbing, she owned, that, so far from being an heiress of a great fortune, she was no other than a common woman of the town, who had decoyed me into matrimony, in order to enjoy the privilege of a femme couverte, and that, unless I made my escape immediately, I should be ar|rested for a debt of her contracting by bailiffs employed and instructed for that purpose. Startled at this inti|mation, I arose in a twinkling, and, taking leave of my spouse with several hearty damns, got safe into the verge of the court, where I kept snug until I was ap|pointed surgeon's mate of a man of war at Portsmouth; for which place I set out on a Sunday, went on board of my ship, in which I sailed to the Straits, where I had the good fortune to be made surgeon of a sloop that came home in a few months after, and was put out of commission: whereupon I came to London, imagin|ing myself forgotten, and freed from my wife and her

creditors, but had not been in town a week before I was arrested for a debt of her's, amounting to 20l. and brought to this place, where I have been fixed by ano|ther action since that time. However, you know my disposition; I defy care and anxiety, and, being on the half-pay list, make shift to live here tolerably easy.

—I congratulated him on his philosophy, and, remembering that I was in his debt, repaid the money he formerly le••t me, which I believe was far from being unseasonable. I then inquired about the economy of the place, which he explained to my satisfaction, and, after we had agreed to mess together, he was just going to give orders for dinner when Strap arrived.

I never in my life saw sorrow so extravagantly expressed in any countenance as in that of my honest friend, which was indeed particularly adapted by nature for such impres|sions. Being left by ourselves, I communicated to him my disaster, and endeavoured to console him with the same arguments he had formerly used to me, withal represent|ing the fair chance I had of being relieved in a short time by Mr. Bowling. But his grief was unutterable; he seemed to give attention without listening, and wrung his hands in silence; so that I was in a fair way of being infected with his behaviour, when Jackson returned, and, perceiv|ing the deference I paid to Strap although in a footman's habit, distributed his cr••mbs of comfort with such mirth, jollity, and unconcern, that the features of the distressed squire relaxed by degrees, he recovered the use of speech, and began to be a little more reconciled to this lamentable event. We dined together on boiled beef and greens, brought from a cook's shop in the neighbourhood; and, although this meal was served up in a manner little corre|sponding with the sphere of life in which I had lately li|ved, I made a virtue of necessity, eat with a good appetite, and treated my friends with a bottle of wine, which had the desired effect of encreasing the good humour of my fellow-prisoner, and exhilirating the spirits of Strap, who now talked of my misfortune en cavalier.

After dinner Jackson left us to our private affairs—when I desired my friend to pack up all our things, and carry them to some cheap lodging he should chuse for himself in the neighbourhood of the Marshalsea, after he had dis|charged

my lodging, for which I gave him money. I likewise recommended to him the keeping my misfortune se|cret, and saying to my landlord, or any other who should inquire for me, that I was gone into the country for a few weeks: at the same time I laid strong injunctions upon him to call every second day upon Banter, in case he should receive any ••••••ters for me from Narcissa by the channel of Freeman▪ and by all means to leave a direction for himself at my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lodgings in Wapping, by which I might be found when my kinsman should arrive.

When he departed to execute these orders, (which by the bye were punctually performed that very night,) I found myself so little seasoned to my situation, that I dreaded reflection, and sought shelter from it in the com|pany of the beau, who, promising to regale me with a lecture upon taste, conducted me to the common side, where I saw a number of naked miserable wretches assem|bled together. We had not been there many minutes when a figure appeared, wrapped in a dirty rug, tied about his loins with two pieces of list of different colours, knotted together, having a black bushy beard, and his head covered with a huge mass of brown periwig, which seemed to have been ravished from the crown of some scarecrow. This apparition stalking in with great solem|nity, made a profound bow to the audience, who signified their approbation by a general response of,

How d'ye do, doctor?

He then turned towards us, and ho|noured Jackson with a particular salutation; upon which, my friend, in a formal manner, introduced him to me by the name of Mr. Melopoyn. This ceremony being over, he advanced into the middle of the congregation, which crowded around him, and hemming three times, to my utter astonishment, pronounced, with great significance of voice and gesture, a very elegant and ingenious discourse upon the difference between genius and taste, illustrating his assertions with apt quotations from the best authors, ancient as well as modern. When he had finished his ha|rangue, which lasted a full hour, he bowed again to the spectators, not one of whom, I was informed, understood so much as a sentence of what he had uttered. They manifest|ed, however, their admiration and esteem by voluntary con|tribution, which Jackson told me, one week with another,

amounted to eighteen pence. This moderate stipend, to|gether with some small presents which he received for making up differences and deciding causes amongst the prisoners, just enabled him to breathe, and walk about in the grotesque figure I have described. I understood also, that he was an excellent poet, and had composed a trage|dy, which was allowed, by every body who had seen it, to be a performance of great merit; that his learning was infinite, his morals unexceptionable, and his modesty in|vincible. Such a character could not fail of attracting my regard; I longed impatiently to be acquainted with him, and desired Jackson would engage him to spend the even|ing in my apartment. My request was granted; he fa|voured us with his company, and, in the course of our con|versation, perceiving that I had a strong passion for the belles lettres, acquitted himself so well on that subject that I expressed a fervent desire of seeing his productions: in this too be gratified my inclination—he promised to bring his tragedy to my room next day, and in the mean time entertained me with some detached pieces, which gave me a very advantageous idea of his poetical talent. A|mong other things I was particularly pleased with some elegies in imitation of Tibullus, one of which I beg leave to submit to the reader, as a specimen of his complexion and capacity.

I.

WHERE now are all my flatt'ring dreams of joy? Monimia, give my soul her wonted rest!— Since first thy beauty fix'd my roving eye, Heart-knawing cares corrode my pensive breast!

II.

Let happy lovers fly where pleasures call, With festive songs beguile the fleeting hour, Lead beauty thro' the mazes of the ball, Or press her wanton in love's roseate bow'r.

III.

For me, no more I'll range th' empurpled mead, Where shepherds pipe, and virgins dance around, Nor wander thro' the woodbine's fragrant shade, To hear the music of the grove resound.

IV.

I'll seek some lonely church, or dreary hall, Where fancy paints the glimm'ring taper blue, Where damps hang mould'ring on the ivy'd wall, And sheeted ghosts drink up the midnight dew:

V.

There, leagu'd with hopeless anguish and despair, A while in silence o'er my fate repi••e; Then, with a long farewel to love and care, To kindred dust my weary limbs consign.

VI.

Wilt thou, Monimia, shed a gracious tear On the cold grave where all my sorrows rest? Strew vernal flow'rs, applaud my love sincere, And bid the turf lie light upon my breast?

I was wonderfully affected with this pathetic complaint, which seemed so well calculated for my own disappoint|ment in love, that I could not help attaching the idea Narcissa to the name of Monimia, and of forming such melancholy presages of my passion, that I could not reco|ver my tranquillity, and was fain to have recourse to the bottle, which prepared me for a profound sleep that I could not otherwise have enjoyed. Whether these impres|sions invited and introduced a train of other melancholy reflections, or my fortitude was all exhausted in the effort I made against despondence, the first day of my imprison|ment, I cannot determine; but I awoke in the horrors, and found my imagination haunted with such dismal ap|paritions, that I was ready to despair: and I believe the reader will own, that I had no great cause to congratulate myself, when I considered my situation. I was interrupted in the midst of these gloomy apprehensions by the arrival of Strap, who contributed not a little to the re-establish|ment of my peace, by letting me know he had hired him|self as a journeyman-barber, by which means he would not only save me a considerable expence, but even make shift to lay up something for my subsistence after my money should be spent, in case I should not be relieved before.

CHAP. XXVI.

I read Melopoyn's tragedy, and conceive a vast opinion of his genius—he recounts his adventures.

WHILE we eat our breakfast together, I acquainted him with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 character and condition of the poet, who came in with his play at that instant, and, imagining we were engaged about business, could not be prevailed upon to sit, but, leaving his performance, went away.—My friend's tender heart was melted at the sight of a gen|tleman and Christian (for he had a great veneration for both th••se epithets) in such misery, and assented with great cheerfulness to a proposal I made of clothing him with our superfluities, a task with which he charged himself, and departed immediately to perform it.

He was no sooner gone than I locked my door, and sat down to the tragedy, which I read to the end with vast pleasure▪ not a little 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at the conduct of the mana|gers who had rejected it. The fable, in my opinion, was well chosen, and naturally conducted; the incidents in|teresting; ••he characters beautifully contrasted, strongly marked, and well supported; the diction poetical, spirit|ed, and correct; the unities of the drama maintained with the most scrupulous exactness; the opening gradual and engaging; the peripet••iaia surprising, and the catastrophe affecting: in short, I judged it by the laws of Aristotle and Horace, and could find nothing in it exceptionable but a little too much embellishment in some few places; which objection he removed to my satisfaction by a quotation from Aristotle's Poetics, importing▪ that the least inte|resting parts of a poem ought to be raised and dignified by the charms and energy of diction.

I revered his genius, and was seized with an eager curiosity to know the particular events of a fortune so unworthy of his merit. At that instant Strap return|ed with a bundle of clothes, which I sent with my compliments to Mr. Melopoyn as a small token of my regard, and desired the favour of his company to din|ner. He accepted my present and invitation, and in less than half an hour made his appearance in a de|cent

dress, which altered his figure very much to his advantage. I perceived by his countenance that his heart was big with gratitude, and endeavoured to prevent his acknowledgments, by asking pardon for the liberty I had taken; he made no reply, but, with an aspect full of ad|miration and esteem, bowed to the ground, while the tears gushed from his eyes. Affected with these symptoms of an ingenuous mind, I shifted the conversation from this subject, and complimented him on his performance, which I assured him afforded me infinite pleasure. My approba|tion made him happy: dinner being served, and Jackson arrived, I begged their permission for Strap to sit at table with us, after having informed them, that he was a person to whom I was extremely obliged; they were kind enough to grant that favour, and we eat together with great har|mony and satisfaction.

Our meal being ended, I expressed my wonder at the little regard Mr. Melopoyn had met with from the world, and signified a desire of hearing how he had been treated by the managers of the play-houses, to whom, I understood from Jackson, he had offered his tragedy without success.

There is so little entertaining in the incidents of my life,

said he,

that I am sure the recital will not re|compense your attention; but, since you discover an inclination to know them, I understand my duty too well to disappoint your desires.

MY father, who was a curate in the country, being, by the narrowness of his circumstances, hindered from main|taining me at the university, took the charge of my edu|cation upon himself, and laboured with such industry and concern in the undertaking, that I had little cause to re|gret the want of public masters. Being at great pains to consult my natural bias, he discovered in me, betimes, an inclination for poetry; upon which he recommended to me an intimate acquaintance with the classics, in the cul|tivation of which he assisted me with paternal zeal, and uncommon erudition. When he thought me sufficiently acquainted with the ancients, he directed my studies to the best modern authors, French and Italian, as well as English, and laid a particular injunction upon me to make myself master of my mother tongue.

About the age of eighteen I grew ambitious of under|taking a work of some consequence, and, with my father's approbation, actually planned the tragedy you have read; but, before I had finished four acts, that indulgent parent died, and left my mother and me in very indigent circum|stances. A near relation, compassionating our distress, took us into his family, where I brought my fable to a conclusion, and soon after my mother quitted this life.—When my sorrow for this melancholy event had subsided, I told my kinsman, who was a farmer, that, having paid my last duty to my parent, I had now no attachment to detain me in the country, and therefore was resolved to set out for London, and offer my play to the stage, where I did not doubt of acquiring a large share of fame as well as fortune, in which case I should not be unmindful of my friends and benefactors. My cousin was ravished with the prospect of my felicity, and willingly contributed towards the expence of fitting me out for the expedition.

Accordingly I took a place in the waggon, and arrived in town, where I hired an apartment in a garret, willing to live as frugal as possible until I should know what I had to expect from the manager, to whom I intended to offer my play—for though I looked upon myself as per|fectly secure of a good reception, imagining that a paten|tee would be as eager to receive as I to present my pro|duction, I did not know whether or not he might not be pre-engaged in favour of another author, which would certainly retard my success. On this consideration too I determined to be speedy in my application, and even to wait upon one of the managers the very next day. For this purpose I enquired of my landlord, if he knew where either or both of them lived? and he being curious to know my business, and at the same time appearing to be a very honest, friendly man, (a tallow-chandler,) I made him acquainted with my design! upon which he told me, that I went the wrong way to work; that I would not find such easy access to a manager as I imagined, and that, if I delivered my performance without proper recommenda|tion, it would be as one to a thousand if ever it should be minded. "Take my advice," said he,

and your busi|ness is done. One of the patentees is a good Catho|lic as I am, and uses the same father who confesses me.

I will make you acquainted with this good priest, who is an excellent scholar, and if he should approve of your play, his recommendation will go a great way in de|termining Mr. Supple to bring it on the stage.

I ap|plauded his expedient, and was introduced to the friar, who, having perused the tragedy, was pleased to signify his approbation, and commended me in particular for ha|ving avoided all reflections upon religion. He promised to use all his influence with his son Supple in my behalf, and to inform himself that very day, when it would be proper for me to wait upon him with the piece. He was punc|tual in performing his engagement, and next morning gave me to understand, that he had mentioned my affair to the manager, and that I had no more to do than to go to his house any time in the forenoon, and make use of his name, upon which I should find immediate admittance. I took his advice, put my performance in my bosom, and, having received directions, went immediately to the house of Mr. Supple, and knocked at the door, which had a wicket in the middle, faced with a net-work of iron, through which a servant, having viewed me some time, demanded to know my business. I told him my business was with Mr. Supple, and that I came from Mr. O'Varnish. He examined my appearance once more, then went away, returned in a few minutes, and said his master was busy, and could not be seen. Although I was a little mortified at my disappoint|ment, I was persuaded, that my reception was owing to Mr. Supple's ignorance of my errand; and, that I might meet with no more obstructions of the same kind, I desi|red Mr. O'Varnish to be my introductor the next time. He complied with my request, and obtained immediate admittance to the manager, who received me with the ut|most civility, and promised to read my play with the first convenience. By his own appointment I called again in a fortnight, but he was gone out; I returned in a week after, and the poor gentleman was extremely ill; I re|newed my visit in a fortnight after that, and he assured me he had been so much fatigued with business, that he had not been able as yet to read it to an end, but he would take the first opportunity, and in the mean time observed, that what he had yet seen of it was very entertaining. I comforted myself with this declaration a few weeks longer,

at the end of which I appeared again before the wicket, was let in, and found him laid up with the gout. I no sooner entered his chamber than, looking at me with a languishing eye, he pronounced,

Mr. Melopoyn, I'm heartily sorry for an accident that has happened during my illness—you must know, that my eldest boy, finding your manuscript upon the table in the dining-room where I used to read it, carried it into the kitchen, and leaving it there, a negligent wench of a cook-maid, mistaking it for waste-paper, has expended it all but a few leaves in singeing fowls upon the spit—but I hope the misfortune is not irreparable, since, no doubt, you have several copies.

I protest to you, my good friend, Mr. Random, I was extremely shocked at this information! but the good-na|tured gentleman seemed to be so much affected with my misfortune, that I suppressed my concern, and told him that, although I had not another copy, I should be able to retrieve the loss by writing another from my memory, which was very tenacious. You cannot imagine how well pleased Mr. Supple was at this assurance; he begged I would set about it immediately, and carefully revolve and recollect every circumstance, before I pretended to commit it to paper, that it might be the same individual play he had perused. Encouraged by this injunction, which plainly demonstrated how much he interested himself in the affair, I tasked my remembrance and industry, and in three weeks produced the exact image of the former, which was con|veyed to him by my good friend Father O'Varnish, who told me next day, that Mr. Supple would revise it super|ficially, in order to judge of its sameness with the other, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 give his final answer. For this examination I allotted a week, and, in full confidence of seeing it acted in a little while, demanded an audience of the manager when that term was expired. But alas! the season had slap|ped away insensibly; he convinced me, that, if my play had been put into rehearsal at that time, it could not have been ready for performing until the end of March, when the be|nefit nights came on; consequently it would have interfered with the interest of the players, whom it was my business not to disoblige.

I was fain to acquiesce in these reasons, which, to be

〈◊〉〈◊〉 were extremely just! and to reserve my performance to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 next season, when he hoped I would not be so un|lucky—Although it was a grievous disappointment to me, who by this time began to want both money and ne|cessaries, having, on the strength of my expectation from the theatre, launched out into some extravagances, by which the sum I had brought to town was already almost consumed. Indeed, I ought to be ashamed at this circum|stance of my conduct; for my finances were sufficient, with good economy, to have maintained me comfortably a whole year. You perhaps will be amazed when I tell you, that in six months I expended not a farthing less than ten guineas: but when one considers the temptations to which a young man is exposed in this great city, especi|ally if he i•• addicted to pleasure as I am, the wonder will vanish, or at least abate. Nor was the cause of my con|cern limited to my own situation entirely: I had wrote an account of my good reception to my kinsman the farmer, and desired him to depend upon me for the money he had kindly accommodated me with about the end of February; which promise I now found myself unable to perform.—However, there was no remedy but patience: I applied to my landlord, who was a very good-natured man, can|didly owned my distress, and begged his advice in laying down some plan for my subsistence. He readily promised to consult his confessor on this subject, and in the mean time told me, I was welcome to lodge and board with him, until fortune should put it in my power to make restitu|tion.

Mr. O'Varnish, being informed of my necessity, offered to introduce me to the author of a weekly paper, who, he did not doubt, would employ me in that way, provided he should find me duly qualified; but, upon enquiry, I understood, that this journal was calculated to foment di|visions in the commonwealth, and therefore I desired to be excused from engaging in it. He then proposed, that I should write something in the poetical way, which I might dispose of to a bookseller for a pretty sum of ready money, and perhaps establish my own character into the bargain: this event would infallibly procure friends, and my tragedy would appear next season to the best advan|tage, by being supported both by interest and reputation.

I was charmed with this prospect, and, having heard what friends Mr. Pope acquired by his pastorals, set about a work of that kind, and in less than six weeks composed as many eclogues, which I forthwith offered to an emi|nent bookseller, who desired I would leave them for his perusal, and he would give me an answer in two days. At the end of that time I went to him, when he returned the poems, telling me they would not answer his purpose, and sweetened his refusal by saying there were some good clever lines in them. Not a little dejected at this rebuff, which I learned from Mr. O'Varnish, was owing to the opinion of another author, whom this bookseller always consulted on these occasions, I applied to another person of the same profession, who told me, that the town was cloyed with pastorals, and advised me, if I intended to profit by my talents, to write something satirical or lus|cious, such as The Button-hole, Shockey and Towzer, The Leaky Vessel, &c. And yet this was a man in years, who wore a reverend periwig, looked like a senator, and went regularly to church. Be that as it will, I scorned to pro|stitute my pen in the manner he proposed, and carried my papers to a third, who assured me that poetry was entirely out of his way, and asked, if I had got never a piece of secret history thrown into a series of letters, or a volume of adventures, such as those of Robinson Crusoe and Co|lonel Jack, or a collection of conundrums, wherewith to entertain the plantations? Being quite un••urnished for this dealer, I had recourse to another with as little success, and I verily believe was rejected by the whole trade.

I was afterwards persuaded to offer myself as a transla|tor, and accordingly repaired to a person who was said to entertain numbers of that class in his pay: he assured me he had already a great deal of that work on his hands, which he did not know what to do with, observed, that translation was a mere drug, that branch of literature being overstocked by an inundation of authors from North-Britain, and asked what I would expect per sheet ••or ren|dering the Latin classics into English. That I might not make myself too cheap, I determined to set a high price upon my qualification, and demanded half a guinea for every translated sheet.—"Half a guinea!" cried he, sta|ring at me; then paused a little, and said he had no oc|casion

for my service at present. I found my error, and, resolving to make amends, fell one half in my demand: upon which he stared at me again, and told me his hands were full. I attempted others without finding employ|ment, and was actually reduced to a very uncomfortable prospect, when I bethought myself of offering my talents to the printers of halfpenny ballads, and other such occa|sional essays as are hawked about the streets. With this view I applied to one of the most noted and vociferous of this tribe, who directed me to a person whom I found en|tertaining a whole crowd of them with gin, bread, and cheese: he carried me into a little back parlour, very neatly furnished, where I signified my desire of being en|rolled among his writers, and was asked what kind of composition I professed? Understanding that my inclination leaned towards poetry, he expressed his satisfaction, telling me, one of his poets had lost his senses, and was confined in Bedlam, and the other was become dozed by drinking drams; so that he had not done any thing tolerable these many weeks. When I proposed, that he should enter into terms of agreement, he gave me to understand, that his bargains were always conditional, and his authors paid in proportion to the sale of their works.

Having therefore settled these conditions, which (I do assure you) were not very advantageous to me, he assigned me a subject for a ballad, which was to be finished in two hours; and I retired to my garret in order to perform his injunction.—As the theme happened to suit my fancy, I completed a pretty sort of an ode within the time pre|scribed, and brought it to him, big with hope of profit and pleasure. He read it in a twinkling, and, to my utter astonishment, told me it would not do; though indeed, he owned I wrote a good hand, and spelled very well, but my language was too high flown, and of consequence not at all adapted to the capacity and taste of his customers.—I promised to rectify that mistake, and in half an hour humbled my style to the comprehension of vulgar readers: he approved of the alteration, and gave me some hopes of succeeding in time, though he observed that my perform|ance was very deficient in quaintness of expression that pleases the multitude: however, to encourage me, he ven|tured

the expence of printing and paper, and, if I remem|ber aright, my share of the sale amounted to four pence halfpenny.

From that day, I studied the Grub-street manner with great diligence, and at length became such a proficient, that my works were in great request among the most polite of the chairmen, draymen, hackney-coachmen, footmen, and servant maids: nay, I have enjoyed the pleasure of seeing my productions adorned with cuts, pasted upon the wall as ornaments in beer-cellars, and coblers stalls; and have actually heard them sung in clubs of substantial trades|men.—But empty praise, (you know, my dear friend,) will not supply the cravings of nature.—I found myself in danger of starving in the midst of all my fame; for of ten songs I composed, it was well if two had the good fortune to please.—For this reason I turned my thoughts to prose, and during a tract of gloomy weather, published an appa|rition, on the substance of which I subsisted very com|fortably a whole month: I have made many a good meal upon a monster; a rape has often afforded me great satis|faction; but a murder, well-timed, was my never-failing resource.—What then! I was a most miserable ••lave to my employers, who expected to be furnished, at a minute's warning, with prose and verse, just as they thought the circumstances of the times required, whether the inclination was absent or present. Upon my sincerity, Mr. Random, I have been so much pestered and besieged by these children of clamour, that my life became a burden to me.

CHAP. XXVII.

The continuation and conclusion of Mr. Melopoyn's ••tory.

I MADE shift, notwithstanding, to maintain myself till the beginning of next winter, when I renewed my ad|dresses to my friend Mr. Supple, and was most graciously received.—

I have been thinking of your affair, Mr. Melopoyn,

said he,

and am determined to shew how far I have your interest at heart, by introducing you to a young nobleman of my acquaintance, who is re|markable for his fine taste in dramatic writings, and is, beside, a man of such influence, that if once he should

approve your play, his patronage will support it against all the efforts of envy and ignorance; for I do assure you, that merit alone will not bring success.—I have already spoke of your performance to Lord Rattle, and if you will call at my house in a day or two, you shall have a letter of introduction to his Lordship.

—I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sensibly touched with this mark of Mr. Supple's friendship, and looking upon my affair as already done, went home, and imparted my good fortune to my land|lord, who, to render my appearance more acceptable to my patron, procured a new suit of clothes for me on his own credit.

Not to trouble you with idle particulars. I carried my tragedy to his Lordship's lodgings, and sent ••t up along with Mr. Supple's letter, by one of his servants, who de|sired me, by his Lordship's order, to return in a week.—I did so, and was admitted to his Lordship, who receiv|ed me very courteously, told me he had perused my play, which he thought on the whole, was the best coup d' essai he had ever seen; but that he had marked some places in the margin, which he imagined might be altered for the better.—I was transported with this reception, and pro|mised, (with many acknowledgments of his Lordship's generosity,) to be governed solely by his advice and di|rection.—"Well, then," said he,

write another fair co|py with the alterations I have proposed, and bring it to me as soon as possible, for I am resolved to have it brought on the stage this winter.

—You may be sure I set about this task with alacrity, and although I found his Lordship's remarks much more numerous and of less importance than I expected, I thought it was not my in|terest to dispute about trifles with my patron; therefore new-modelled it according to his desire, in less than a month.

When I waited upon him with the manuscript, I found one of the actors at breakfast with his Lordship, who im|mediately introduced him to my acquaintance, and desir|ed him to read a scene of my play.—This task he performed very much to my satisfaction with regard to emphasis and pronunciation; but he signified his disgust at several words in every page, which I presuming to defend, Lord Rat|tle told me, with a peremptory look, I must not pretend

to dispute with him, who had been a player these twenty years, and understood the economy of the stage better than any man living. I was forced to submit, and his Lordship proposed the same actor should read the whole play, in the evening, before some gentleman of his ac|quaintance, whom he would convene at his lodgings for that purpose.

I was present at the reading; and I protest to you, my dear friend, I never underwent such a severe trial in the whole course of my life, as at that juncture! for although the player might be a very honest man and a good per|former, he was excessively illiterate and assuming, and made a thousand frivolous objections, which I was not permitted to answer: however, the piece was very much applauded on the whole; the gentlemen present, who I understood were men of fortune, promised to countenance and support it as much as they could; and Lord Rattle assuring me, that he would act the part of a careful nurse to it, desired me to carry it home, and alter immediate|ly according to their remarks.—I was fain to acquiesce in his determination, and fulfilled his injunctions with all the expedition in my power; but before I could present the new copy, my good friend Mr. Supple had disposed of his property and patent to one Mr. Brayer; so that fresh interest was to be made with the new manager.—This task Lord Rattle undertook, having some acquaintance with him, and recommended my performance so strongly that it was received.

I looked upon myself now, as upon the eve of reaping the fruits of all my labour: I waited a few days in ex|pectation of its being put into rehearsal, and wondering at the delay, applied to my worthy patron, who excused Mr. Brayer on account of the multiplicity of business in which he was involved; and bid me beware of teazing the patentee.—I treasured up this caution, and exerted my patience three weeks longer; at the end of which his Lordship gave me to understand, that Mr. Brayer had read my play, and owned it had indubitable merit; but as he had long been pre-engaged to another author, he could not possibly represent it that season; though, if I would reserve it for the next, and in the interim make

such alterations as he had proposed by observations in the margin, I might depend upon his compliance.

Thunderstruck at this disappointment, I could not, for some minutes, utter one syllable: at length, however, I complained bitterly of the manager's insincerity in amu|sing me so long, when he knew from the beginning, that he could not gratify my desire.—But his Lordship repri|manded me for my freedom, said Mr. Brayer was a man of honour, and imputed his behaviour, with respect to me, to nothing else but forgetfulness.—And indeed I have had some reason, since that time, to be convinced of his bad memory; for, in spite of appearances, I will not al|low myself to interpret his conduct any other way.—Lord Rattle observing me very much affected with my disap|pointment, offered his interest to bring on my play at the other house, which I eagerly accepting, he forthwith wrote a letter of recommendation to Mr. Bellower, actor and prime minister to Mr. Vandal, proprietor of that theatre; and desired me to deliver it with my tragedy, without loss of time.—Accordingly, I hastened to his house, where, after having waited a whole hour in a lob|by, I was admitted to his presence, and my performance received with great state.—He told me he was extremely busy at present, but he would peruse it as soon as possi|ble; and bid me call again in a week. I took my leave, not a little astonished at the port and supercilious beha|viour of this stage player, who had not treated me with good manners; and began to think the dignity of a poet greatly impaired since the days of Euripides and Sopho|cles; but all this was nothing in comparison of what I have since observed.

Well, Mr. Random, I went back at the appointed time, and was told that Mr. Bellower was engaged, and could not see me.—I repeated my visit a few days after, and having waited a considerable time, was favoured with an audience, during which he said, he had not as yet read my play.—Nettled at this usage, I could contain myself no longer, but telling him, I imagined he would have paid more deference to Lord Rattle's recommendation, demanded my manuscript with some expressions of resent|ment.—"Ay," said he, in a theatrical tone,

with all my heart.

—Then pulling out a drawer of the bureau

at which he sat, he took out a bundle, and threw it upon a table that was ••ear him, pronouncing the word, "There," with great disdain.—I took it up, and perceiving, with some surprize, that it was a comedy, told him, it did not belong to me; upon which he offered me another, which I also disclaimed.—A third was produced, and rejected for the same reason. At length he pulled out a whole ••andful, and spread them before me, saying,

There are seven—take which you please—or take them all.

—I singled out my own, and went away, struck dumb with admiration at what I had seen—not so much on account of his insolence, as of the number of new plays, which, from this circumstance, I concluded were yearly offered to the stage.—You may be sure I did not fail to carry my complaint to my patron, who did not receive it with all the indignation I expected; but taxed me with precipi|tation, and told me, I must lay my account with bearing the humours of the players, if I intended to write for the stage.—"There is now no other remedy," said he,

but to keep it till the next season for Mr. Brayer, and alter it at your leisure in the summer time, according to his directions.

—I was now reduced to a terrible alterna|tive, either to quit all hopes of my tragedy, from which I had all along promised myself a large share of fortune and reputation, or to encounter eight long months of ad|versity, in preparing for, and expecting its appearance.—This last penance, painful as it was, seemed most eligible to my reflection at that time, and therefore I resolved to undergo it.

Why should I tire you with particulars of no conse|quence? I wrestled with extreme poverty, until the time of my probation was expired; and went to my Lord Rat|tle, in order to remind him of my affair, when I under|stood, to my great concern, that his Lordship was on the point of going abroad, and, which was still more unfor|tunate for me, Mr. Brayer had gone into the country; so that my generous patron had it not in his power to intro|••ace me personally, as he intended: however, he wrote every strong letter to the manager in my favour, and put him in mind of the promise he had made in behalf of my play.

As soon as I was certified of Mr. Brayer's return, I

went to his house with this letter, but was told he was gone out.—I called again next day early in the morning, received the same answer, and was desired to leave my name and business. I did so, and returned the day after, when the servant still affirmed, that his master was gone abroad, though I perceived him, as I retired, observing me through a window.—Incensed at this discovery I went to a coffee-house hard by, and inclosing his Lordship's letter in one from myself, demanded a categorical an|swer. I sent it to his house by a porter, who returned in a few minutes, and told me Mr. Brayer would be glad to see me that instant.—I obeyed the summons, and was received with such profusion of compliments and apolo|gies, that my resentment immediately subsided, and I was even in pain for the concern which this honest man shew|ed at the mistake of his servant, who, it seems, had been ordered to deny him to every body but me.—He expres|sed the utmost veneration for his good and noble friend Lord Rattle, whom he should always be proud to serve; promised to peruse the play with all dispatch, and give me a meeting upon it; and, as a testimony of his esteem, made me a present of a general order for the season, by which I should be admitted to any part of the theatre.—This was a very agreeable compliment to me, whose greatest pleasure consisted in seeing dramatic performan|ces, and you need not doubt that I often availed myself of my privilege. As I had an opportunity of being be|hind the scenes when I pleased, I frequently conversed with Mr. Brayer about my play, and asked when he intend|ed to put it into rehearsal; but he had always so much busi|ness upon his hands, that it remained with him unopened a considerable while; and I became very uneasy about the season, that wasted apace, when I saw in the papers ano|ther new play advertised, which had been written, offer|ed, accepted and rehearsed in the compass of three months, without my knowledge or suspicion.—You may easily guess how much I was confounded at this event! I own to you that, in the first transports of my anger, I suspect|ed Mr. Brayer of having acted towards me in the most pitiful, perfidious manner; and was actually glad at his disappointment in the success of his favourite piece, which by the strength of art lingered till the third night, and

then died in a deplorable manner. But, now that passion has no share in my reflection, I am willing to ascribe his behaviour to his want of memory, or want of judgment, which, you know, are natural defects, that are more worthy of compassion than reproach.

About this time I happened to be in company with a gentlewoman, who having heard of my tragedy, told me, she was acquainted with the wife of a gentleman, who was very well known to a lady, who had great interest with a person who was intimate with Earl Sheerwit, and that, if I pleased, she would use her influence in my be|half.—As this nobleman had the character of a M••ecenas in the nation, and could stamp a value upon any work by his sole countenance and approbation, I accepted her of|fer with eagerness, in full confidence of seeing my reputa|tion established, and my wishes fulfilled in a very short time, provided that I should have the good fortune to please his Lordship's taste. I withdrew the manuscript from the hands of Mr. Brayer, and committed it to the care of this gentlewoman, who laboured so effectually in my interest, that in less than a month it was conveyed to the Earl, and in a few weeks after, I had the satisfaction to hear that he had read and approved it very much. Transported with this piece of intelligence, I flattered myself with the hopes of his interesting himself in its fa|vour; but hearing no more of the matter in three whole months, I began (God forgive me!) to suspect the vera|city of the person who brought me the good tidings; for I thought it impossible, that a man of his rank and cha|racter, who knew the difficulty of writing a good trage|d••, and understood the dignity of the work, should read and applaud an essay of this kind, without feeling an in|clination to befriend the author, whom his countenance alone could raise above dependence. But it was not long before I found my friend very much wronged by my opinion.

You must know that the civilities I had received from Lord Rattle, and the desire he manifested to promote the success of my play, encouraged me to write an account of my ••ad fortune to his Lordship, who condescended so far, as to desire, by letter, a young squire of a great estate, with whom he was intimate, to espouse my cause, and in

particular to make me acquainted with one Mr. Marmo|zet, a celebrated player, who had lately appeared on the stage with astonishing eclat, and bore such sway in the house where he acted, that the managers durst not refuse any thing he recommended. The young gentleman, whom Lord Rattle had employed for this purpose, being diffi|dent of his own interest with Mr. Marmozet, had recourse to a nobleman of his acquaintance, who, at his solicitation, was so good as to introduce me to him; and the conver|sation turning upon my performance, I was not a little surprised as well as pleased to hear, that Earl Sheerwit had spoke very much in its praise, and even sent Mr. Mar|mozet the copy, with a message, expressing a desire that he would act in it next season.—Nor was the favourite actor backward in commending the piece, which he mentioned with some expressions of regard that I do not chuse to re|peat; assuring me that he would appear in it, provided he should be engaged to play at all during the ensuing season. In the mean time he desired I would give him leave to peruse it in the country, whither he intended to remove next day, that he might have leisure to consider and point out such alterations as might, perhaps, be ne|cessary for the jeu de theatre; and took my direction, that he might communicate by letter, the observations he should make. Trusting to these assurances, and the in|terest which had been made in my behalf, I hugged my|self in the expectation of seeing it, not only acted, but acted to the greatest advantage, which I thought could not fail of recompensing me in an ample manner, for the anxiety and affliction I had undergone: but six weeks be|ing elapsed, I did not know how to reconcile Mr. Mar|mozet's silence, with his promise of writing to me in ten days after he set out for the country; however, I was at last favoured with a letter, importing that he had made some remarks on my tragedy, which he would freely im|pare at meeting, and advised me to put it, without loss of time, into the hands of that manager, who had the best company; as he himself was quite uncertain whether or not he should be engaged that winter.—I was a good deal alarmed at this last part of his letter, and advised about it with a friend, who told me, it was a plain indication of Mr. Marmozet's desire to get rid of his promise; that his

pretended uncertainty about acting next winter, was no other than a scandalous evasion; for to his certain know|ledge, he was already engaged, or, at least, in terms with Mr. Vandal; and that his design was to disappoint me, in favour of a new comedy, which he had purchased of the author, and was intended to bring upon the stage, for his own advantage.—In short, my dear Sir, this person, who, I must own, is of a very sanguine complexion, hand|led the moral character of Mr. Marmozet with such seve|rity that I began to suspect him of some particular pre|judice, and put myself upon my guard against his insinu|ations.—I ought to crave pardon for this tedious narra|tion of trivial circumstances, which, however interesting they may be to me, must certainly be very dry and insi|pid to the ear of one unconcerned in the affair.—But I understand the meaning of your looks, and will proceed. Well, Sir, Mr. Marmozet, upon his return to town, treat|ed me with uncommon complaisance, and invited me to his lodgings, where he proposed to communicate his re|marks, which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 confess, were more unfavourable than I expected; but I answered his objections, and, as I thought, brought him over to my opinion; for, on the whole, he signified the highest approbation of the performance. In the course of our dispute, I was not a little surprised to find this poor gentleman's memory so treacherous as to let him forget what he had said to me before he went out of town, in regard to Earl Sheerwit's opinion of my play, which he now professed himself ignorant of; and I was extremely mortified at hearing from his own mouth, that his interest with Mr. Vandal was so very low, as to be in|sufficient of itself, to bring a new piece upon the stage. I then begged his advice, and he counselled me to apply to Earl Sheerwit for a message in my favour to the mana|ger, who would not presume to refuse any thing recom|mended by so great a man; and he was so kind as to promise to second this message with all his power.—I had immediate recourse to the worthy gentlewoman my friend already mentioned, who opened the channels of her con|veyance with such expedition, that in a few days, I had the promise of the message, provided I could insure myself of Mr. Vandal's being unengaged to any other author; for his lordship did not chuse to condescend so far, until he should

understand that there was a probability, at least, of suc|ceeding. At the same time in which I was blessed with this piece of news, I was startled at another, by the same canal of communication; which was, that Mr. Marmo|zet, before he advised me to this application, had inform|ed the Earl, that he had read my play, and found it al|together unfit for the stage.—Though I could not doubt the certainty of this intelligence, I believed there was some misapprehension in the case; and without taking any notice of it, told Mr. Marmozet the answer I had been, favoured with; upon which he testified much joy, and promised to ask Mr. Vandal the question proposed.—I waited upon him in a day or two, when he gave me to understand, that Mr. Vandal having professed himself free of all engagements, he had put my play into his hands, and represented it as a piece strongly recommended by Earl Sheerwit, who, he assured him, would honour him, with a message in its favour; and he desired me to call for an answer at Mr. Vandal's house in three days.—I followed his directions, and found the manager, who, be|ing made acquainted with my business, owned, that Mr. Marmozet had given him a manuscript play, but denied that he had mentioned Earl Sheerwit's name.—When I informed him of the circumstances of the affair, he said he had no engagement with any author: that he would read my tragedy forthwith; and did not believe he should ven|ture to reject it in contradiction to his lordship's opinion, for which he had the utmost veneration, but put it into rehearsal without loss of time.—I was so much intoxicat|ed with this encouragement, that I overlooked the myste|rious conduct of Mr. Marmozet, and attended the mana|ger at the time appointed, when, to my infinite confusion, he pronounced my play improper for the stage, and re|jected it accordingly. As soon as I could recollect my|self from the disorder into which this unexpected refusal had thrown me, I expressed a desire of hearing his objec|tions, which were so groundless, indistinct, and unintel|ligible, that I persuaded myself he had not at all perused the piece, but had been prompted by somebody, whose lessons he had not rightly retained. However, I have been since informed, that the poor man's head, which was not naturally very clear, had been disordered with super|stition,

and that he laboured under the tyranny of a wife, and the terrors of hell fire at the same time.—Precipitated in this manner from the highest pinnacle of hope to the abyss of despondence, I was ready to sink under the bur|den of my affliction; and, in the bitterness of my anguish, could not help entertaining some doubts of Mr. Marmo|zet's integrity, when I recollected and compared the cir|cumstances of his conduct towards me. I was encouraged in this suspicion by being told, that my Lord Sheerwit had spoke of his character with great contempt; and in particular resented his insolence in opposing his own taste to that of his lordship, concerning my tragedy.—While I hesitated between two different opinions of the matter, that friend, who, as I told you before, was a little hot|headed, favoured me with a visit, and having heard a cir|cumstantial account of the whole affair, could not contain his indignation, but affirmed without ceremony, that Marmozet was the sole occasion of my disappointment; that he had acted from first to last with the most perfidious dissimulation, cajoling me with insinuating civilities, while he under-hand employed all his art and influence to pre|judice the ignorant manager against my performance; that nothing could equal his hypocrisy, but his avarice, which engrossed the faculties of his soul so much, that he scru|pled not to be guilty of the meanest practices to gratify that sordid appetite; that, in consequence of this dispo|sition, he had prostituted his honour in betraying my in|experience, and in undermining the interest of another author of established reputation, who had also offered a tragedy to the stage, which he thought would interfere with the success of the comedy he had bought, and deter|mined to bring on at all events.

I was shocked at the description of such a monster, which I could not believe existed in the world, bad as it is, and argued against the asseverations of my friend▪ by demonstrating the bad policy of such behaviour, which could not fail of entailing infamy upon the author; and the small temptation that a man of Mr. Marmozet's figure and success could have to consult his interest in such a grovelling manner, which must create contempt and abhor|rence of him in his patrons, and effectually deprive him of the countenance and protection he now enjoys in such

an eminent degree. He pretended to laugh at my simpli|city, and asked if I knew for which of his virtues he was so much caressed by the people of fashion.—"It is not," said he,

for the qualities of his heart, that this little parasite is invited to the tables of dukes and lords, who hire extraordinary cooks for his entertainment: his avarice they see not, his ingratitude they feel not, his hypocrisy accommodates itself to their humours, and is of consequence pleasing; but he is ••hiefly courted for his buffoonery, and will be admitted into the choicest parties of quality for his talent of mimicking Punch and his wife Joan, when a poet, of the most exquisite genius, is not able to attract the least regard.

—God forbid, Mr. Random, that I should credit assertions that degrade the dignity of our superiors so much, and repre|sent that poor man as the most object of all beings! No! I looked upon them as the hyperboles of passion; and, though that comedy of which he spoke, did actually ap|pear, I dare not doubt the innocence of Mr. Marmozet, who, I am told, is as much as ever in favour with the earl; a circumstance surely that could not happen, unless he had vindicated his character to the satisfaction of his lordship.—Pray forgive this long digression, and give me the hearing a little longer; for, thank Heaven, I am now near the goal.

Baffled in all my attempts, I despaired of seeing my play acted, and bethought myself of chusing some employment that might afford me a sure, though mean subsistence; but my landlord, to whom I was by this time considerably indebted, and who had laid his account with having his money paid all in a heap from the profits of my third night, could not brook his disappointment; therefore, made another effort in my behalf, and by dint of interest procured a message from a lady of fashion to Mr. Brayer, who had always professed a great veneration for her, desiring that he would set up my play forthwith, and assuring him that she and all her friends would support it in the performance: to strengthen my interest, she engaged his best actors in my cause, and, in short, exerted herself so much, that it was again received, and my hopes began to revive. But Mr. Brayer, honest man, was so much engrossed by business of vast consequence, though to ap|pearance

he had nothing at all to do, that he could not find time to read it till the season was pretty far advanced; and read it he must; for, notwithstanding his having pe|rused it before, his memory did not retain one circumstance of the matter.

At length he favoured it with his attention, and, having proposed certain alterations, sent his duty to the lady who patronised it, and promised on his honour to bring it on next winter, provided these alterations should be made, and the copy delivered to him be••ore the end of April. With an aching heart I submitted to these conditions, and performed them accordingly; but fortune owed me ano|ther unforeseen mortification; Mr. Marmozet, during the summer, became joint patentee with Mr. Brayer; so, that when I claimed performance of articles, I was told he could do nothing without the consent of his partner, who was pre-engaged to another author.

My condition was rendered desperate by the death of my good friend and landlord, whose executors obtained judgment against my effects, which they seized, turned me out into the streets naked, friendless, and forlorn; there I was arrested at the suit of my taylor, and thrown into prison, where I have made shift to live these five weeks on the bounty of my fellow prisoners, who, I hope, are not the worse of the instruction and good offices by which I manifest my gratitude: but, in spite of all their charitable endeavours, my life was scarce tolerable, until your un|common benevolence enabled me to enjoy it with comfort.

CHAP. XXVIII.

I am seized with a deep melancholy, and become a sloven—am relieved by my uncle—he prevails upon me to engage with his owners, as a surgeon of the ship which he com|mands—he makes me a considerable present—entertains Strap as his steward—I take leave of my friends, and go on board—the ship arrives at the Downs.

I SHALL not make any reflections on this story, in the course of which the reader must perceive how egregi|ously the simplicity and milky disposition of this worthy man had been doped and abused by a set of scoundrels,

who were so habituated to falsehood and equivocation, that I verily believe they could not utter one syllable of truth, though their lives depended upon their sincerity. Notwithstanding all I had suffered from the knavery and selfishness of mankind, I was amazed and incensed at the base indifference, which suffered such uncommon merit as he possessed, to languish in obscurity, and struggle with all the miseries of a loathsome goal, and should have blessed the occasion that secluded me from such a perfidious world, had not the remembrance of the amiable Narcissa preserved my attachment to that society, of which she constituted a part. The picture of that lovely creature was the con|stant companion of my solitude; how often did I contem|plate the resemblance of those enchanting features that first captivated my heart! how often did I weep over those endearing scenes which her image recalled! and how often did I curse my perfidious fate, for having robbed me of the fair original! In vain did my imagination flatter me with schemes of future happiness; surly reason always inter|posed, and in a moment overthrew the unsubstantial fabric by chastising the extravagance of my hope, and represent|ing my unhappy situation in the right point of view: in vain did I fly for refuge to the amusements of the place, and engage in the parties of Jackson at cards, billiards, nine pins, and fives; a train of melancholy thoughts took possession of my soul, which even the conversation of Me|lopoyn could not divert. I ordered Strap to inquire every day at Banter's lodgings, in expectation of hearing again from my charmer, and my disappointment considerably augmented my chagrin. My affectionate valet was in|fected with my sorrow, and often sat with me whole hours without speaking, uttering sigh for sigh, and shedding tear for tear. This fellowship increased our distemper; he became incapable of business, and was discarded by his master; while I, seeing my money melt away, without any certainty of deliverance, and, in short, all my hopes frustrated, grew negligent of life, lost all appetite, and degenerated into such a sloven, that, during the space of two months, I was neither washed, shifted, nor shaved; so that my face, rendered meagre with abstinence, was obscured with dirt, and overshadowed with hair, and my whole appearance squalid, and even frightful, when one

day Strap brought me notice, that there was a man below who wanted to speak with me. Roused at this intelli|gence, and in full hopes of receiving a letter from the dear object of my love, I ran down stairs with the utmost pre|cipitation, and found, to my infinite surprise, my generous uncle Mr. Bowling! Transported at the sight, I sprang forward to embrace him: upon which he started aside with great agility, drew his hanger, and put himself upon his guard, crying,

Avast, brother, avast! sheer off—Yo ho, you turnkey, why don't you keep a better look out? Here's one of your crazy prisoners broke from his lash|ings, I do suppose.

I could not help laughing heartily at his mistake, which I soon rectified by my voice, that he instantly recollected, and shook me by the hand with great affection, testifying his concern at seeing me in such a miserable condition.

I conducted him to my apartment, where, in presence of Strap, whom I introduced to him as one of my best friends, he let me know, that he was just arrived from the coast of Guinea, after having made a pretty successful voyage, in which he had acted as mate, until the ship was attacked by a French privateer; that the captain being killed during the engagement, he had taken the command, and was so fortunate as to sink the enemy; after which he sell in with a merchant-ship from Martinico, laden with sugar, indigo, and some silver, and, by virtue of his let|ter of marque, attacked, took, and brought her safe into Kinsale in Ireland, where she was condemned as a lawful prize; by which means he had not only got a pretty sum of money, but also acquired the favour of his owners, who had already conferred upon him the command of a large ship, mounted with twenty nine-pounders, ready to sail upon a very advantageous voyage, which he was not at liberty to discover; and he assured me, that it was with the greatest difficulty he had found me, in consequence of a direction left for him at his lodgings in Wapping.

I was rejoiced beyond measure at this account of his good fortune, and, at his desire, recounted all the adven|tures that had happened to me since we parted. When he understood the particulars of Strap's attachment to me, he squeezed his hand very cordially, and promised to make a man of him; and, giving me ten guineas for my present

occasion, took a direction for the taylor who arrested me, and went away in order to discharge the debt, telling me at parting, that he would soon fetch up all my lee-way with a wet sail.

I was utterly confounded at this sudden transition, which affected me more than any reverse I had formerly felt; and a crowd of incoherent ideas rushed so impetu|ously upon my imagination, that my reason could neither separate nor connect them—when Strap, whose joy had manifested itself in a thousand fooleries, came into my room with his shaving utensils, and, without any previous intimation, began to lather my beard, whistling with great emotion all the while. I started from my reverie, and, being too well acquainted with Strap to trust myself in his hands while he was under such agitation, desired to be excused, sent for another barber, and suffered myself to be trimmed. Having performed the ceremony of ablution, I shifted, and, dressing in my gayest apparel, waited for the return of my uncle, who was agreeably surprised at my sudden transformation.

This beneficent kinsman had satisfied my creditor, and obtained an order for my discharge; so that I was no longer a prisoner; but, as I had some reluctance to part with my friends and fellows in distress, I prevailed upon Mr. Bowling to favour us with his company, and invited Mr. Melopoyn and Jackson to spend the evening at my apartment, where I regaled them with a supper, good wine, and the news of my release, on which they heartily congratulated me, notwithstanding the loss of my compa|ny, which, they were pleased to say, they would severely feel. As for Jackson, his misfortune made so little im|pression on himself, and he was altogether so loose, indif|ferent, and indiscreet, that 〈…〉〈…〉 scarce pity his situa|tion; but I had conceived a veneration and friendship for the poet, who was in all respects an object much more worthy of compasision and regard. When our guests with|drew, and my uncle had retired, with an intention to visit me next morning, I made up a bundle of some linen and other necessaries, and, bidding Strap carry them to Mr. Melo|poyn's lodging, went thither myself, and pressed it upon his acceptance, with five guineas, which with much diffi|culty he received, assuring me at the same time, that he

should never have it in his power to make satisfaction. I then asked if I could serve him any other way? to which he answered, "You have already done too much;" and, unable to contain the emotions of his soul any longer, burst into tears, and wept aloud. Moved at the spectacle, I left him to his repose, and, when my uncle returned in the morning, represented his character in such a favourable light, that the honest seaman was affected with his distress, and determined to follow my example in presenting him with five pieces more: upon which, that I might save him some confusion, I advised Mr. Bowling to inclose it in a letter, to be delivered by Strap after we should be gone.

This was accordingly done, I took a formal leave of all my acquaintance in the jail, and just as I was about to step into a hackney-coach at the gate, Jackson calling me, I returned, and he asked me in a whisper, if I could lend him a shilling? His demand being so moderate, and in all likelihood the last he would make upon me, I slipped a guinea into his hand, which he no sooner perceived than he cried, "O Jesus! a guinea!" then, laying hold of a button of my coat, he broke out into an immoderate fit of laughter, and, when his convulsion was ended, told me I was an honest fellow, and let me go. The coachman was ordered to drive to Mr. Bowling's lodging, where, when we arrived, he entered into a serious discourse with me on the subject of my situation, and he proposed, that I should sail with him in quality of his surgeon, in which case he would put me in a method of getting a fortune in a few years by my own industry, and assured me, that I might expect to inherit all that he should die possessed of, provided I should survive him. Though I was penetrated with a sense of his gene••••••••••, I was startled at a proposal that offered violence to my love, and signified my senti|ments on th••t head, which he did not seem to relish, but observed, that love was the fruit of idleness—that when once I should be employed in business, and my mind en|gaged in making money, I would be no more troubled with these silly notions, which none but your fair-weather Jacks, who have nothing but their pleasure to mind, ought to entertain. I was piqued at this insinuation, which I looked upon as a reproach, and, without giving

myself time to deliberate, accepted his offer. He was overjoyed at my compliance, carried me immediately to his chief owner, with whom a bargain was struck, so that I could not retract with honour, had I been ever so much averse to the agreement. That I might not have time to cool, he bid me draw out a list of medicines, for a comple|ment of five hundred men, adapted to the distempers of hot climates, and sufficient for a voyage of eigh|teen months, and carry it to a certain wholesale apo|thecary, who would also provide me in two well-qualified mates. While I was thus employed, Strap came in, and looked very blank, when he understood my resolution; however, after a pause of some minutes, he insisted upon going along with me, and, at my desire, was made ship's steward by Captain Bowling, who promised to be at the expence of fitting him out, and to lend him two hundred pounds to purchase an adventure.

When I had delivered my list of medicines, chosen a couple of my own countrymen for mates, and bespoke a set of chirurgical instruments, my uncle told me, that by his last voyage he had cleared almost three thousand pounds, one thousand of which he would immediately make over, and put into my hands; that he would procure me credit to the value of as much more in such goods as would turn to best account in the country to which we were bound; and that, although he looked upon my in|terest as his own, he would keep the remaining part of his fortune in his own disposal, with a view of preserving his independence, and the power of punishing me, in case I should not make a good use of what he had already be|stowed upon me.

Without troubling the reader with an account of the effect which this surprising generosity had upon my mind, I shall only say, that his promises were instantly perform|ed, and an invoice of merchandise proper for the voyage presented to me, that I might purchase the goods, and ship them with all expedition. In the midst of this hurry the remembrance of my charming Narcissa often interpo|sed, and made me the most miserable of all mortals. I was distracted with the thought of being torn from her perhaps for ever; and, though the hope of seeing her again might have supported me under the torments of se|paration,

I could not reflect upon the anguish she must feel at parting with me, and the incessant sorrows to which her tender bosom should be exposed during my ab|sence, without being pierced with the deepest affliction! As my imagination was daily and nightly upon the rack to invent some method of mitigating this cruel stroke, or at least of acquitting my love and honour in the opinion of that gentle creature, I at length stumbled upon an ex|pedient, with which the reader will be made acquainted in due time, and, in consequence of my determination, be|came less uneasy and disturbed.

My business being finished, and the ship ready to sail, I resolved to make my last appearance among my acquaint|ance at the other end of the town, where I had not been since my imprisonment; and as I had, by the advice of my uncle, taken off some very rich clothes for sale, I put on the gayest suit in my possession, and went in a chair to the coffee-house I used to frequent, where I found my friend Banter so confounded at the magnificence of my dress, that, when I made up to him, he gazed at me with a look of astonishment, without being able for some mi|nutes to open his lips—then pulling me aside by the sleeve, and fixing his eyes on mine, accosted me in this manner:

Random, where the devil have you been! eh?—What is the meaning of all this finery?—Oho! I understand you—you are just arrived from the country! What! the roads are good, eh?—Well, Random, you are a bold fellow, and a lucky fellow!—but take care; the pitcher goes often to the well, but is broke at last.

So say|ing, he pointed to his collar, by which gesture, and the broken hints he had ejaculated, I found he suspected me of having robbed on the highway, and I laughed very heartily at his supposition. Without explaining myself any farther, I told him he was mistaken in his conjecture; that I had been for some time past with the relation of whom he had frequently heard me speak, and that as I should set out next day upon my travels, I had come thither to take my leave of my friends, and to receive of him the money he had borrowed from me, which, now that I was going abroad, I should have occasion for. He was a little disconcerted at this demand, but, recollecting himself in a moment, swore in an affected passion, that I had used

him extremely ill, and he would never forgive me for having, by this short warning, put it out of his power to free himself of an obligation he could no longer bear. I could not help smiling at this pretended delicacy, which I commended highly, telling him he needed not be uneasy on that score; for I would give him a direction to a mer|chant in the city, with whom I would leave a discharge for the sum, to be delivered on payment. He professed much joy at this expedient, and with great eagerness asked the person's name and place of abode, which he forthwith wrote in his pocket-book, assuring me, that he should not be long in my debt. This affair, which I knew he would never after think of, being settled to his satisfaction, I sent cards to all my friends, desiring the favour of their company at a tavern in the evening, when they honoured my invitation, and I had the pleasure of treating them in a very elegant manner, at which they expressed as much admiration as applause. Having enjoyed ourselves till midnight, I took my leave of them all, being well nigh stifled with caresses; and next day I set out with Strap in a post-chaise for Gravesend, where we went on board, and, the wind serving, weighed anchor in less than twelve hours. Without meeting with any accident, we got as far as the Downs, where we were obliged to come to an anchor, and wait for an easterly wind to carry us out of the channel.

CHAP. XXIX.

I set out for Sussex—consult Mrs. Sagely—atchieve an in|terview with Narcissa—return to the ship—we get clear of the channel—I learn our destination—we are chased by a large ship—the company are dismayed, and encouraged by the captain's speech—our pursuer happens to be an English man of war—we arrive on the coast of Guinea, purchase 400 negroes, sail for Paraguay, get safe into the river of Plate, and sell our cargo to great advantage.

IT was now I put in execution the scheme I had project|ed at London; and asking leave of the captain for Strap and me to stay on shore till the wind should become favourable, my request was granted, because he had or|ders

to remain in the Downs until he should receive some dispatches from London, which he did not expect in less than a week. Having imparted my resolution to my trusty valet, who (though he endeavoured to dissuade me from such a rash undertaking) would not quit me in the enter|prise, I hired horses, and set out immediately for that part of Sussex where my charmer was confined, which was not above thirty miles distant from Deal, where we mounted. As I was perfectly well acquainted with the extent of the squire's estate and influence, I halted within five miles of his house, where we remained till the twilight, at which time we set forward, and, by the favour of a dark night, gained a copse about half a mile from the village where Mrs. Sagely lived. Here we left our horses tied to a tree, and went directly to the house of my old benefactress, Strap trembling all the way, and venting ejaculatory pe|titions to Heaven for our safety. Her habitation being quite solitary, we arrived at the door without being ob|served, when I ordered my companion to enter by himself, and, in case there should be company with her, deliver a letter which I had wrote for that purpose, and say that a friend of her's in London, understanding that he intended to travel this road, had committed it to his care. He rap|ped at the door, to which the good old woman coming, told him, that, being a lone woman, he must excuse her if she did not open it until he had declared his name and business. He answered, that his name was unknown to her, and that his business was to deliver a letter, which (to free her from al•• manner of apprehension) he would convey to her through the space between the door and the threshold. This he instantly performed; and she no sooner read the contents, which specified my being present, than she cried,

If the person who wrote this letter be at hand, let him speak, that I may be assured by his voice whe|ther or not I may safely admit him.

I forthwith ap|plied my mouth to the key-hole, and pronounced,

Dear mother, you need not be afraid; it is I, so much in|debted to your goodness, who now crave admittance.

She knew my voice, and, opening the door immediately, received me with a truly maternal affection, manifesting, by the tears she let fall, her concern lest I should be dis|covered; for she had been informed of every thing that

had happened between Narcissa and me from the dear cap|tive's own mouth. When I explained the motive of my journey, which was no other than a desire of seeing the object of my love before I should quit the kingdom, that I might in person convince her of the necessity I was under to leave her, reconcile her to that event by describing the advantages that in all probability would attend it, repeat my vows of eternal constancy, and enjoy the melancholy pleasure of a tender embrace at parting—I say, when I had thus signified my intention, Mrs. Sagely told me, that Narcissa, upon her return from Bath, had been so strictly watched, that nobody but one or two of the servants de|voted to her brother, were admitted to her presence; that afterwards she had been a little enlarged, and was permit|ted to see company, during which indulgence she had been several times at her cottage; but of late she had been be|trayed by one of the servants, who discovered to the squire, that he had once carried a letter from her to the post-house directed to me; upon which information she was now more confined than ever; and that I could have no chance of seeing her, unless I would run the risk of getting into the garden, where she and her maid were every day allowed to take the air, and lie hid until I should have an opportunity of speaking to them—an ad|venture which would be attended with such danger, that no man in his right wits would attempt it. This enter|prize, hazardous as it was, I resolved to perform, in spite of all the arguments of Mrs. Sagely, who reasoned, chid, and entreated by turns, and the tears and prayers of Strap, who conjured me on his knees to have more regard to myself, as well as to him, than to tempt my own de|struction in such a precipitate manner. I was deaf to every thing but the suggestions of my love, and ordered him to return immediately with the horses to the inn from whence we set out, and wait for my coming in that place: he at first peremptorily refused to leave me, until I per|suaded him, that, if our horses should remain where they were till day-light, they would certainly be discovered, and the whole country alarmed. On this consideration he took leave of me in a sorrowful plight, kissed my hand, and, weeping, cried,

God knows if ever I shall see you again.

My kind landlady, finding me obstinate, gave

me her best advice how to behave in the execution of my project, and, after having persuaded me to take a little refreshment, accommodated me with a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and left me to my repose. Early in the morning I got up, and, armed with a couple of loaded pistols and a hanger, went to the back of the squire's garden, climbed over the wall, and, according to Mrs. Sagely's direction, con••••aled myself in a thicket hard by an alcove which terminated a walk at a good distance from the house, which (I was told) my mistress chiefly frequented. Here I remained from five o'clock in the morning to six in the evening, without see|ing a human creature; at last I perceived two women ap|proaching, whom by my throbbing heart I soon recogni|zed to be the adorable Narcissa and Miss Williams. I felt the strongest agitation of soul at the sight, and, guessing that they would repose themselves in the alcove, I stepped into it unperceived, and laid upon the stone-table a picture of myself in miniature, for which I had sat in London, purposing to leave it with Narcissa before I should go abroad. I exposed it in this manner as an introduction to my own appearance, which, without some previous inti|mation, I was afraid might have an unlucky effect upon the delicate nerves of my fair enslaver, and then withdrew into the thicket, where I could hear their discourse, and suit myself to the circumstances of the occasion. As they advanced, I observed an air of melancholy in the counte|nance of Narcissa, blended with such unspeakable sweet|ness, that I could scarce refrain from flying into her arms, and kissing away the pearly drop that stood collected in each bewitching eye. According to my expectation, she entered the alcove, and, perceiving something on the ta|ble, took it up. No sooner did she cast her eye upon the features than, startled at the resemblance, she cried, "Gracious God!" and the roses instantly vanished from her cheeks. Her confidante, alarmed at this exclamation, looked at the picture, and, struck with the likeness, ex|claimed, "O Jesus! the very features of Mr. Random! Narcissa having recollected herself a little, said,

What|ever angel brought it hither as a comfort to me in my affliction, I am thankful for the benefit, and will pre|serve it as the dearest object of my care.

So saying, she kissed it with surprising ardour, shed a flood of tears,

and then deposited the lifeless image in her lovely bosom. Transported at these symptoms of her unaltered affection, I was about to throw myself at her feet, wh••n Miss Wil|liams, whose reflection was less engaged than that of her mistress, observed, that the picture could not transport itself hither, and that she could not help thinking I was not far off. The gentle Narcissa, starting at this conjecture, answered,

Heaven forbid! for, although nothing in the universe could yield me satisfaction equal to that of his presence for one poor moment in a proper place, I would rather forfeit his company—almost for ever, than see him here, where his life would be exposed to so much danger.

I could no longer restrain the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of my passion, but, breaking from my concealment 〈◊〉〈◊〉 before her, when she uttered a fearful shriek, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 away in the arms of her companion. I flew toward•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 treasure of my soul, clasped her in my embrace, and with the warmth of my kisses brought her again to life—O! that I were endowed with the expression of a Raphael, the graces of a Guido, the magic touches of a Titian, that I might represent the fond concern, the chastened rapture, and ingenuous blush, that mingled on her beauteous face, when she opened her eyes upon me, and pronounced,

O Heavens! is it you!▪

I am afraid I have already encroached upon the rea|der's patience, with the particulars of this amour, on which, (I own,) I cannot help being impertinently cir|cumstantial. I shall therefore omit the less material pas|sages of this interview, during which I convinced her rea|son, though I could not appease the sad presages of her love, with regard to the long voyage and dangers I must undergo.—When we had spent an hour, (which was all she could spare from the barbarity of her brother's vigi|lance,) in lamenting over our hard fate, and in repeating our reciprocal vows, Miss Williams reminded us of the necessity there was for our immediate parting; and sure, lovers never parted with such sorrow and reluctance as we. But because my words are incapable of doing justice to that affecting circumstance, I am obliged to draw a veil over it, and observe, that I returned in the dark to the house of Mrs. Sagely, who was overjoyed to hear of my success, and opposed the tumults of my grief with such

strength of reason, that my mind regained in some mea|sure its tranquility; and that very night, after having forced upon this good gentlewoman a purse of twenty guineas, as a token of my gratitude and esteem, I took leave of her, set out on foot for the inn, where my arrival freed honest Strap from the horrors of unutterable dread.

We took horse immediately, and alighted early next morning at Deal, where I found my uncle in great con|cern on account of my absence, because he had received his dispatches, and must have weighed with the first fair wind, whether I had been on board or not.—Next day a brisk easterly gale springing up, we set sail, and in eight and forty hours got clear of the channel.

When we were about 200 leagues from the Land's-end, the captain taking me apart into his cabin, told me, that, now he was permitted by his instructions, he would dis|close the intent and destination of our voyage:

The ship,

said he,

which has been fitted out at a great expence, is bound for the coast of Guinea, where we shall exchange part of our cargo for slaves and gold dust; from thence we will transport our negroes to Buenos Ayres in New-Spain, where, (by virtue of passports obtained from our own court, and that of Ma|drid,) we will dispose of them and the goods that re|main on board for silver, by means of our supercargo, who is perfectly well acquainted with the coast, the lingo and inhabitants.

—Being thus let into the secret of our expedition, I borrowed of the supercargo a Spa|nish grammar, dictionary, and some other books of the same language, which I studied with such application, that before we arrived in New-Spain, I could maintain a conversation with him in that tongue.—Being arrived in the warm latitudes, I ordered, (with the captain's con|sent,) the whole ship's company to be blooded and pur|ged, myself undergoing the same evacuation, in order to prevent those dangerous fevers, to which northern consti|tutions are subject in hot climates; and I have reason to believe that this precaution was not unserviceable, for we lost but one sailor during our whole passage to the coast.

One day, when we had been about five weeks at sea, we descried to windward a large ship bearing down upon us with all the sail she could carry. Upon which my un|cle

ordered the studding-sails to be hoisted, and the ship to be cleared for engaging; but finding, that (to use the seaman's phrase) we were very much wronged by the ship that had us in chase, and which by this time had hoisted French colours, he commanded the studding-sails to be taken in, the courses to be clewed up, the main top-sail to be backed, the tompions to be taken out of the guns, and every man to repair to his quarters. While every body was busied in the performance of these orders, Strap came upon the quarter-deck, trembling, and looking aghast, and, with a voice half suppressed by fear, asked if I thought we were a match for the vessel in pursuit of us. Observing his consternation, I said,

What? are you afraid, Strap? Afraid!

he replied,

n-n-no, what should I be afraid of? I thank God I have a clear con|science;—but I believe it will be a bloody battle, and I wish you may not have occasion for another hand to assist you in the cock-pit.

—I immediately perceived his drift, and making the captain acquainted with his situation, desired he might be stationed below with me and my mates. My uncle, incensed at his pusillanimity, bid me send him down instantly, that his fear might not infect the ship's company: whereupon I told the poor steward, that I had begged him for an assistant, and de|sired him to go down, and help my mates to get ready the instruments and dressings.—Notwithstanding the satisfac|tion he must have felt at these tidings, he affected a shy|ness of quitting the upper-deck; and said, he hoped I did not imagine he was afraid to do his duty above board, for he believed himself as well prepared for death as any man in the ship, no disparagement to me or the captain.—I was disgusted at this affectation, and, in order to punish his hypocrisy, assured him he might take his choice either of going down to the cock-pit with me, or of staying upon deck during the engagement. Alarmed at this indiffer|ence, he replied,

Well, to oblige you, I'll go down, but remember it is more for your sake than my own.

So saying, he disappeared in a twinkling, without wait|ing for an answer.—By this time we could observe two tier of guns in the ship which pursued us, and which was now but two short miles astern. This discovery had an evident effect upon the sailors, who did not scruple to say,

that we should be torn to pieces, and blown out of the water, and that if in case any of them should lose their precious limbs, they must go a begging for life, for there was no provision made by the merchants for those poor souls who are maimed in their service. The captain un|derstanding this backwardness, ordered the crew abaft, and spoke to them thus:

My lads I am told you hang an a—se.—I have gone to sea thirty years, man and boy, and never saw English sailors afraid before.—Mayhap you think I want to expose you for the lucre of gain.—Whosoever thinks so, thinks a damned lie, for my whole cargo is insured; so that in case I should be taken, my loss will not be great.—The enemy is stronger than we, to be sure—What then? have we not a chance for carrying away one of her masts, and so get clear of her?—If we find her too hard for us, 'tis but striking at last.—If any man is hurt in the engage|ment, I promise, on the word of an honest seaman, to make him a recompence, according to his loss.—So now, you that are lazy, lubberly, cowardly dogs, get away, and sculk in the hold and bread-room; and you that are jolly boys, stand by me, and let us give one broad-side for the honour of old England.

This elo|quent harangue was so well adapted to the disposition of his hearers, that one and all of them, pulling off their hats, waved them over their heads, and saluted him with three cheers: upon which he sent his boy for two large case bottles of brandy, and having treated every man with a dram, they repaired to their quarters, and waited im|patiently for the word of command.—I must do my uncle the justice to say, that in the whole of his disposition, he behaved with the utmost intrepidity, conduct, and deli|beration.—The enemy being very near, he ordered me to my station, and was just going to give the word for hoist|ing the colours, and firing, when the supposed French|man hauled down his white pennant, jack, and ensign, hoisted English ones, and fired a gun a head of us: this was a joyful event to Captain Bowling, who immediately shewed his colours, and fired a gun to leeward: upon which the other ship ran along-side of him, hailed him, and giving him to know, that she was an English man of war of forty guns, ordered him to hoist out his boat, and

come on board.—This he performed with the more ala|crity, because, upon inquiry, he found that she was com|manded by an old mess-mate of his, who was overjoyed to see him, detained him to dinner, and sent his barge for the supercargo and me, who were very much caressed on his account.—As this commander was destined to cruize upon the French coast, in the latitude of Martinico, his stem and quarters were adorned with white fluers-de-lis, and the whole shell of the ship so much disguised, for a decoy to the enemy, that it was no wonder my uncle did not know her, although he had sailed on board of her many years—We kept company with her four days, during which time the captains were never asunder, and then parted, our course lying different from hers.

In less than a fortnight after, we made the land of Guinea, near the mouth of the river Gambia, and trad|ing along the coast as far to the southward of the Line as Angola and Bengula, in less than six months disposed of the greatest part of our cargo, and purchased four hun|dred negroes, my adventure having been laid out chiefly in gold dust.

Our complement being made up, we took our depar|ture from Cape Negro, and arrived in the Rio de la Pla|ta in six weeks, having met with nothing remarkable in our voyage, except an epidemic fever, not unlike the jail distemper, which broke out among our slaves, and carried off a good many of the ship's company; among whom I lost one of my mates, and poor Strap had well nigh given up the ghost.—Having produced our passport to the Spa|nish governor, we were received with great courtesy, sold our slaves in a very few days, and could have out off five times the number at our own price; being obliged to smuggle the rest of our merchandize, consisting of Euro|pean bale goods, which, however, we made shift to dis|pose of at a great advantage.

CHAP. XXX.

I am invited to the villa of a Spanish don, where we meet with an English gentleman, and make a very interesting discovery—we leave Buenos Ayres, and arrive at Ja|maica.

OUR ship being freed from the disagreeable lading of Negroes, to whom, indeed, I had been a miserable slave, since our leaving the coast of Guinea, I began to enjoy myself and breathe with pleasure the air of Para|guay; this part of which is reckoned the Montpelier of South America, and has obtained, on account of its cli|mate, the name of Buenos Ayres.—It was in this delici|ous place that I gave myself entirely up to the thoughts of my dear Narcissa, whose image still kept full possession of my breast, and whose charms, enhanced by absence, appeared to my imagination, if possible, more engaging than ever! I calculated the profits of my voyage, which even exceeded my expectation; resolved to purchase a handsome sinecure upon my arrival in England, and if I should find the squire as averse to me as ever, marry his sister by stealth; and, in case our family should increase, rely upon the generosity of my uncle, who was by this time worth a considerable sum.

While I amused myself with these agreeable projects, and the transporting hopes of enjoying Narcissa, we were very much caressed by the Spanish gentlemen, who fre|quently formed parties of pleasure for our entertainment, in which we made excursions a good way into the coun|try. Among those who signalized themselves by their civility to us, there was one Don Antonio de Ribera, a very polite young gentleman, with whom I had contract|ed an intimate friendship, who invited us one day to his country house, and, as a further inducement to our com|pliance, promised to procure for us the company of an English signor, who had been settled in those parts many years, and acquired the love and esteem of the whole pro|vince, by his affability, good sense, and honourable be|haviour.

We accepted his invitation, and set out for his Villa,

where we had not been longer than an hour, when the person arrived, in whose favour I had been so much pre|possessed.—He was a tall man, remarkably well shaped, of a fine mien and appearance, commanding respect, and seemed to be turned of forty; the features of his face were saddened with a reserve and gravity, which in other countries would have been thought the effect of melancholy; but here, appeared to have been contracted by his commerce with the Spaniards, who are remarkable for that severity of countenance. Understanding from Don Antonio that we were his countrymen, he saluted us all round very com|plaisantly, and fixing his eyes attentively on me, uttered a deep sigh.—I had been struck with a profound venera|tion for him at his first coming into the room; and no sooner observed this expression of sorrow, directed, as it were, in a particular manner to me, than my heart took part in his grief; I sympathized involuntarily, and sigh|ed in my turn. Having asked leave of our entertainer, he accosted us in English, professed his satisfaction at seeing so many of his countrymen in such a remote place, and asked the captain, who went by the name of Signor Tho|ma, from what part of Britain he sailed, and whither he was bound.—My uncle told him that we had sailed from the river Thames, and were bound for the same place, by the way of Jamaica, where he intended to take in a lading of sugar.

Having satisfied himself in these and other particulars about the state of the war, he gave us to understand, that he had a longing desire to revisit his native country, in consequence of which he had already transmitted to Eu|rope the greatest part of his fortune in neutral bottoms, and would willingly embark the rest of it with himself in our ship, provided the captain had no objection to such a passenger.—My uncle very prudently replied, that for his part, he should be glad of his company, if he could pro|cure the consent of the governor, without which he durst not admit him on board, whatever inclination he had to oblige him.—The gentleman approved of his discretion, and telling him, that there would be no difficulty in ob|taining the connivance of the governor, who was his good friend, shifted the conversation to another subject.

I was overjoyed to hear his intention, and already in|terested

myself so much in his favour, that had he been disappointed, I should have been very unhappy; in the course of our entertainment, he eyed me with an uncom|mon attachment; I felt a surprising attraction towards him; when he spoke, I listened with attention and reve|rence; the dignity of his deportment filled me with af|fection and awe; and, in short, the emotions of my soul, in the presence of this stranger, were strong and unac|countable.

Having spent the best part of the day with us, he took his leave, telling Captain Thoma, that he should hear from him in a short time. He was no sooner gone, than I asked a thousand questions about him of Don Antonio▪ who could give me no other satisfaction, than that his name was Don Rodrigo, that he had lived fifteen or six|teen years in these parts, was reputed rich, and supposed to have been unfortunate in his younger years, because he was observed to nourish a pensive melancholy, even from the time of his first settlement among them; but that no body had ventured to enquire into the cause of his sorrow, in consideration of his peace, which might suffer in the recapitulation of his misfortunes.

I was seized with an irresistible desire of knowing the particulars of his fate, and enjoyed not an hour of repose during the whole night, by reason of the eager concep|tions that inspired me, with regard to his story, which I resolved (if possible) to learn.—Next morning, while we were at breakfast, three mules, richly caparisoned, arrived, with a message from Don Rodrigo, desiring our com|pany and that of Don Antonio at his house, which was situated about ten miles further up the country.—I was pleased with this invitation, in consequence of which we mounted the mules which he had provided for us, and alighted at his house before noon.—Here we were splen|didly entertained by the generous stranger, who still seem|ed to shew a particular regard for me, and after dinner made me a present of a ring set with a beautiful amethyst, the production of that country, saying, at the same time, that he was once blessed with a son, who, had he lived, would have been nearly of my age. This observation, delivered with a profound sigh, made my heart throb with violence; a crowd of confused ideas rushed upon my ima|gination;

which while I endeavoured to unravel, my un|cle perceived my absence of thought, and, tapping me on the shoulder, said, "Oons! are you asleep, Rory!" Be|fore I had time to reply, Don Rodrigo, with an un|common eagerness of voice and look, pronounced,

Pray, captain, what is the young gentleman's name?

—"His name," said my uncle, "is Roderick Random."—"Gracious powers!" cried the stranger, starting up,—"And his mother's?" "His mother," answered the captain, amazed, "was called Charlotte Bowling."—"O bounteous Heaven!" exclaimed Don Rodrigo, springing across the table, and clasping me in his arms,

my son! my son! have I found thee again? Do I hold thee in my embrace, after having lost and despaired of seeing thee so long?

So saying, he sell upon my neck, and wept aloud with joy; while the power of nature operat|ing strongly in my breast, I was lost in rapture, and while he pressed me to his heart, let fall a shower of tears in his bosom. His utterance was choaked up a good while, by the agitation of his soul; at length he broke out into,

Mysterious Providence!—O my dear Charlotte! there yet remains a pledge of our love! and such a pledge—so found!—O infinite goodness! let me adore thy all|wise decrees!

Having thus expressed himself, he kneeled upon the floor, li••ted up his eyes and hands to heaven, and remained some minutes in a silent extasy of devotion: I put myself in the same posture, adored the all-good Disposer in a prayer of mental thanksgiving; and, when his ejaculation was ended, did homage to my father, and craved his parental blessing. He hugged me again with unutterable fondness, and having implored the pro|tection of heaven upon my head, raised me from the ground, and presented me as his son to the company, who wept in concert over this affecting score.—Among the rest my uncle did not fail of discovering the goodness and joy of his heart: Albeit unused to the melting mood, he blubbered with great tenderness, and wringing my father's hand, he cried,

Brother Random, I am rejoiced to see you—God be praised for this happy meeting.

—Don Rodrigo, understanding that he was his brother-in-law, embraced him affectionately, saying,

Are you my Char|lotte's brother?—Alas! unhappy Charlotte! But why

should I repine? we shall meet again, never more to part!—Brother, you are truly welcome—dear son, I am transported with unspeakable joy!—This day is a jubilee—my friends and servants shall share my satis|faction.

While he dispatched messengers to the gentlemen in the neighbourhood, to announce this event, and gave orders for a grand entertainment, I was so much affected with the tumults of passion which assailed me on this great, sud|den, and unexpected occasion, that I fell sick, ••evered, and, in less than three hours, became quite delirious; so that the preparations were countermanded, and the joy of the family converted into grief and despair.—Physicians were insantly called, I was plentifully blooded in the ••oot, my lower extremities were bathed in a decoction of salu|tiferous herbs; in ten hours after I was taken ill, I en|joyed a critical sweat, and next day felt no remains of the distemper, but an agreeable lassitude, which did not hin|der me from getting up.—During the progress of this se|ver, which, from the term of its duration, is called Ephe|mera, my father never once quitted my bed side, but ad|ministered the prescriptions of the physicians, with the most pious care; while Captain Bowling manifested his concern by the like attendance.—I no sooner found my|self delivered from the disease, than I bethought myself of my honest friend Strap; and resolving to make him happy forthwith, in the knowledge of my good fortune, told my father; in general, that I had been infinitely ob|liged to this faithful adherent; and begged he would in|dulge me so far as to send for him, without letting him know my happiness, until he could receive an account of it from my own mouth.

My request was instantly complied with, and a messen|ger, with a spare mule, detached to the ship, carrying or|ders from the captain to the mate to send the steward by the bearer. My health being in the mean time re-establish|ed, and my mind composed, I began to relish this im|portant turn of my fortune, in reflecting upon the advan|tages with which it must be attended; and, as the idea of my lovely Narcissa always joined itself to every scene of happiness I could imagine, I entertained myself now with the prospect of possessing her in that distinguished sphere

to which she was entitled by her birth and qualifications. Having often mentioned her name while I was deprived of my senses, my father guessed, that there was an intimate connection between us, and, discovering the picture which hung in my bosom by a ribbon, did not doubt that it was the resemblance of my amiable mistress: in this belief he was confirmed by my uncle, who told him it was the pic|ture of a young woman to whom I was under promise of marriage. Alarmed at this piece of information, Don Rodrigo took the first opportunity of questioning me about the circumstances of this affair, which, when I had candidly recounted, he approved of my passion, and pro|mised to contribute all in his power towards its success: though I never doubted his generosity, I was transported on this occasion, and, throwing myself at his feet, told him, he had now completed my happiness; for, without the possession of Narcissa, I should be miserable among all the pleasures of life. He raised me with a smile of pater|nal fondness, said, he knew what it was to be in love, and observed, that, if he had been as tenderly beloved by his father as I was by mine, he would not now perhaps have cause.—Here he was interrupted by a sigh, the tears stood collected in his eyes, he suppressed the dictates of his grief, and, the time being opportune, desired me to relate the passages of my life, which my uncle had told him were manifold and surprising. I recounted the most material circumstances of my fortune, to which he listened with wonder and attention, manifesting from time to time those different emotions which my different situations may be supposed to have raised in a parent's breast, and, when my detail was ended, blessed God for the adversity I had un|dergone, which, he said, enlarged the understanding, im|proved the heart, steeled the constitution, and qualified a young man for all the duties and enjoyments of life much better than any education which affluence could bestow.

When I had thus satisfied his curiosity, I discovered an inclination to hear the particulars of his story, which he gratified by beginning with his marriage, and proceeded to the day of his disappearing, as I have related in the first part of my memoirs. "Careless of life," continued he,

and unable to live in a place where every object re|called the memory of my dear Charlotte, whom I had▪

lost through the barbarity of an unnatural parent, I took my leave of you, my child, then an infant, with an heart full of unutterable woe, but little suspecting, that my father's unkindness would have descended to my innocent orphan; and, setting out alone at mid|night for the nearest sea-port, early next morning got on board a ship, bound (as I heard) for France, and, bargaining with the master for my passage, bid a long adieu to my native country, and put to sea with the first fair wind. The place of our destination was Gran|ville; but we had the misfortune to run upon a ridge of rocks near the island of Alderney, called the Caskets, where the sea running high, the ship went to pieces, the boat sunk along-side, and every soul on board pe|rished except myself, who by the assistance of a grating got ashore on the coast of Normandy: I went directly to Caen, where I was so lucky as to meet with a count whom I had formerly known in my travels: with this gentleman I set out for Paris, where I was recommend|ed, by him and other friends, as tutor to a young no|bleman, whom I accompanied to the court of Spain. There we remained a whole year, at the end of which, my pupil being recalled by his father, I quitted my office, and staid behind, by t••e advice of a certain Spanish grandee, who took me into his protection, and introduced me to a certain nobleman, who was after|wards created viceroy of Peru. He insisted on my at|tending him to his government in the Indi••s, where, however, by reason of my religion, it was not in his power to make my fortune any other way than by en|couraging me to trade, which I had not long prosecu|ted when my patron died, and I found myself in the midst of strangers, without one friend to support or protect me. Urged by this consideration, I sold my effects, and removed to this country, the governor of which, having been appointed by the viceroy, was my intimate acquaintance. Here has Heaven prospered my endeavours during a residence of sixteen years, in which my tranquillity was never invaded but by the remem|brance of your mother, whose death I have in secret mourned without ceasing, and the reflection of you, whose fate I could never learn, notwithstanding all my

inquiries, by means of my friends in France, who, after the most strict examination, could give me no other ac|count than that you went abroad six years ago, and was never after heard of. I could not rest satisfied with this imperfect information, and, though the hope of finding you was but languid, resolved to go in quest of you in person; for which purpose I have remitted to Holland the value of twenty thousand pounds, and am in possession of fifteen thousand more, with which I in|tended to embark myself on board of Captain Bowling, before I discovered this amazing stroke of Providence, which you may be sure has not altered my intention.

My father, having entertained us with this agreeable sketch of his life, withdrew in order to relieve Don Anto|nio, who in his absence had done the honours of his house; and I was just dressed for my appearance among the guests, when Strap arrived from the ship.

He no sooner entered the grand apartment in which I was, and saw the magnificence of my apparel, than his speech was lost in amazement, and he gaped in silence at the objects that surrounded him. I took him by the hand, observed that I had sent for him to be a witness and sharer of my happiness, and told him I had found a father. At these words he started, and, after having contin••ed some minutes with his mouth and eyes wide open, cried,

Aha!—odd, I know what!—Go thy ways, poor Narcissa, and go thy ways somebody else—Well—Lord, what a thing is love?—God help us, are all our mad pranks and protestations come to this? What! and you have fixed your habitation in this distant land! God prosper you—I find we must part at last; for I would not leave my poor carcase so far from my native home, for all the wealth of the universe!

With these ejaculations he began to sob, and make wry faces; upon which I assured him of his mistake, both in regard to Narcissa and my staying at Paraguay, and informed him, as briefly as I could, of the great event which had hap|pened. Never was rapture more ludicrously expressed than in the behaviour of this worthy creature, who cried, laughed, whistled, sung, and danced, all in a breath; his transport was scarce over when my father entered, who no sooner understood that this was Strap than he took him

by the hand, saying,

Is this the honest man who be|friended you so much in your distress? You are welcome to my house, and I shall soon put it in the power of my son to reward you for your good offices in his be|half; in the mean time go with us, and partake of the repast that is provided.

Strap, wild as he was with joy, would by no means accept of the proffered honour, crying,

God forbid! I know my distance—your wor|ship shall excuse me:

and Don Rodrigo, finding his modesty invincible, recommended him to his major|domo, to be treated with the utmost respect, while he car|ried me into a large saloon, where I was presented to a numerous company, who loaded me with compliments and caresses, and congratulated my father in terms not proper for me to repeat.

Without specifying the particulars of our entertain|ment, let it suffice to say, that it was at the same time elegant and sumptuous, and the rejoicing lasted two days: after which Don Rodrigo settled his affairs, converted his effects into silver and gold, visited and took leave of all his friends who were grieved at his departure, and ho|noured me with considerable presents; and, coming on board of my uncle's ship, with the first favourable wind we sailed from the Rio de la Plata, and in two months came safe to an anchor in the harbour of Kingston in the island of Jamaica.

CHAP. XXXI.

I visit my old friend Thomson—we set sail for Europe—meet with an odd adventure—arrive in England—I ride across the country from Portsmouth to Sussex—converse with Mrs. Sagely, who informs me of Narcissa's being in Lon|don—in consequence of this intelligence I proceed to Can|terbury—meet with my old friend Morgan—arrive at London—visit Narcissa—introduce my father to her—he is charmed with her good sense and beauty—we come to a determination of demanding her brother's consent to our marriage.

I INQUIRED, as soon as I got ashore, about my gene|rous companion Mr. Thomson, and hearing that he liv|ed in a flourishing condition upon the estate left to him by

his wife's father, who had been dead some years, I took horse immediately, with the consent of Don Rodrigo, who had heard me mention him with great regard, and in a few hours reached the place of his habitation.

I should much wrong the delicacy of Mr. Thomson's sentiments to say barely, he was glad to see me: he felt all that the most sensible and disinterested friendship could feel on this occasion, introduced me to his wife, a very amiable young lady, who had already blessed him with two fine children; and, being as yet ignorant of my cir|cumstances, frankly offered me the assistance of his purse and interest. I thanked him for his generous intention, and made him acquainted with my situation, on which he congratulated me with great joy, and, after I had staid with him a whole day and night, accompanied me back to Kingston to wait upon my father, whom he invited to his house: Don Rodrigo complied with his request, and, having been handsomely entertained during the space of a week, returned extremely well satisfied with the be|haviour of my friend and his lady, to whom at parting, he presented a very valuable diamond ring as a token of his esteem. During the course of my conversation with Mr. Thomson, he let me know, that his and my old commander, Captain Oakhum, was dead some months, and that, im|mediately after his death, a discovery had been made of some valuable effects that he had feloniously secreted out of a prize by the assistance of Dr. Macshane, who was now actually in prison on that account, and, being desti|tute of friends, subsisted solely on the charity of my friend, whose bounty he had implored in the most abject manner, after having been the barbarous occasion of driving him to that terrible extremity on board the Thunder, which I have formerly related. Whatsoever this wretch might have been guilty of, I applauded Mr. Thomson's genero|sity towards him in his distress, which wrought so much upon me also, that I sent him ten pistoles, in such a private manner that he could never know his benefactor.

While my father and I were caressed among the gentle|men on shore, Captain Bowling had wrote to his owners by the packet, which sailed a few days after our arrival, signifying his prosperous voyage hitherto, and desiring them to insure his ship and cargo homeward bound; after

which he applied himself so heartily to the loading his ship, that, with the assistance of Mr. Thomson, she was full in less than six weeks. This kind gentleman likewise procured for Don Rodrigo bills upon London for the greatest part of his gold and silver, by which means it was secured against the risk of the seas and the enemy; and, before we sailed, supplied us with s••ch large quantities of all kinds of stock, that not only we, but the whole ship's company, fared sumptuously during the voyage.

Every thing being ready, we took our leave of our kind entertainers, and going on board at Port Royal, set sail for England on the first of June.—We beat up to wind|ward, with fine easy weather; and one night believing ourselves near Cape Tiberoon, lay to, with an intention to wood and water next morning in the bay: while we remained in this situation, a sailor having drank more new rum than he could carry, staggered overboard, and, not|withstanding all the means that could be used to preserve him, went to the bottom, and disappeared. About two hours after this melancholy accident happened, as I en|joyed the cool air on the quarter-deck, I heard a voice rising, as it were, out of the sea, and calling,

Ho, the ship, a hoy!

Upon which one of the men upon the forecastle cried,

I'll be d—d'd, if that an't Jack Mar|linspike, who went overboard!

Not a little surprised at this event, I jumped into the boat that lay along-side, with the second mate and four men, and rowing towards the place, from whence the voice (which repeated the hail,) seemed to proceed, we perceived something floating upon the water; when we had rowed a little farther, we discerned it to be a man riding upon a hen-coop, who, see|ing us approach, pronounced with a hoarse voice,

D—n your bloods! why did you not answer when I hailed?

Our mate, who was a veritable seaman, hearing this sa|lute, said,

By G—d, my lads, this is none of our man—This is the devil—pull away for the ship.

The fel|lows obeyed his command without question, and were al|ready some fathoms on our return, when I insisted on their taking up the poor creature, and prevailed upon them to go back to the wreck, which, when we came near the se|cond time, and signified our intention, we received an an|swer of, "Avast, avast—what ship, brother?" Being sa|tisfied

in this particular, he cried,

D—n the ship, I was in hopes it had been my own—where are you bound?

We gratified his curiosity in this too; upon which he suffered himself to be taken on board, and after being comforted with a dram, told us, he belonged to the Vesuvio man of war, upon a cruize off the island of His|paniola; that he had fallen over-board about four and twenty hours ago, and the ship being under sail, they did not chuse to bring to, but tossed a hen-coop over-board for his convenience, upon which he was in good hopes of reaching the Cape next morning; howsomever, he was as well content to be aboard of us, because he did not doubt but that we should meet his ship; and if he had gone ashore on the bay, he might have been taken prisoner by the French.—My uncle and father were very much divert|ed with the account of this fellow's unconcerned beha|viour; and in two days meeting with the Vesuvio, as he expected, sent him on board of her according to his desire.

Having beat up successfully the windward passage, we stretched to the northward, and falling in with a westerly wind, in eight weeks arrived in soundings, and in two days after made the Lizard.—It is impossible to express the joy I felt at the sight of English ground! Don Rodrigo was not unmoved, and Strap shed tears of gladness.—The sailors profited by our satisfaction; the shoe that was nailed to the mast, being quite filled with our liberality.—My uncle resolved to run into the Downs at once; but the wind shifting when we were a-breast of the isle of Wight, he was obliged to turn into St. Helens, and come to an anchor at Spithead, to the great mortification of the crew, thirty of whom were immediately pressed on board of a man of war.

My father and I went ashore immediately at Portsmouth, leaving Strap with the captain to go round with the ship, and take care of our effects; and I discovered so much im|patience to see my charming Narcissa, that my father per|mitted me to ride across the country to her brother's house, while he should hire a post-chaise for London, where he should wait for me at a place to which I directed him.

Fired with all the eagerness of passion, I took post that very night, and in the morning reached an inn, about

three miles from the squire's habitation. Here I remained till next evening, allaying the torture of my impatience with the rapturo••s hope of seeing that divine creature, af|ter an absence of eighteen months, which, so far from im|pairing, had raised my love to the most exalted pitch! Neither were my reflections free from apprehension, that sometimes intervened in spite of all my hope, and repre|sented her as having yielded to the importunity of her brother, and blessed the arms of an happy rival.—My thoughts were even maddened with the fear of her death; and when I arrived in the dark at the house of Mrs. Sagely, I had not for some time the courage to desire ad|mittance, lest my soul should be shocked with dismal tid|ings. At length, however, I knocked, and no sooner cer|tified the good gentlewoman of my voice, than she opened the door, and received me with a most affectionate embrace that brought tears into her aged eyes:

For Heaven's sake, dear mother,

cried I,

tell me, how is Nar|cissa? Is she the same that I left her?

She blessed my ears with saying,

She is as beautiful, in as good health, and as much yours as ever.

—Transported at this as|surance, I begged to know if I could not see her that very night; when this sage matron gave me to understand that my mistress was in London, and that things were strangely altered in the squire's house since my departure; that he had been married a whole year to Melinda, who at first found means to wean his attention so much from Narcissa, that he became quite careless of that lovely sister, com|forting himself with the clause of his father's will, by which she would forfeit her fortune, if she should marry without his consent;—that my mistress, being but indif|ferently treated by her sister-in-law, had made use of her freedom some months ago, and gone to town, where she was lodged with Miss Williams, in expectation of my ar|rival; and had been pestered with the addresses of Lord Quiverwit, who, finding her heart engaged, had fallen upon a great many shifts, to persuade her that I was dead; but finding all his artifices unsuccessful, and de|spairing of gaining her affection, he had consoled himself for her indifference, by marrying another lady some weeks ago, who had already le••t him on account of some family uneasiness.—Besides this interesting information, she told

me, that there was not a great deal of harmony between Melinda and the squire, who was so much disgusted at the number of gallants who continued to hover about her, even after marriage, that he hurried her down into the country much against her inclination, where their mutual animosities had risen to such a height, that they preserved no decency before company or servants, but abused one another in the grossest terms.

This good old gentlewoman, to give me a convincing proof of my dear Narcissa's unalterable love, gratified me with a sight of the last letter she had favoured her with, in which I was mentioned with so much honour, tender|ness, and concern, that my soul was fired with impatience, and I determined to ride all night, that I might have it the sooner in my power to make her happy.—Mrs. Sagely perceiving my eagerness, and her maternal affec|tion being equally divided between Narcissa and me, begged leave to remind me of the sentiments with which I went abroad, that would not permit me, for any selfish gratification, to prejudice the fortune of that amiable young lady, who must entirely depend upon me, after ha|ving bestowed herself in marriage. I thanked her for her kind concern, and as briefly as possible described my flou|rishing situation, which afforded this humane person infi|nite wonder and satisfaction. I told her that now I had an opportunity to manifest my gratitude for the obligation I owed, I would endeavour to make her old age comfort|able and easy; as a step to which I proposed she should come and live with Narcissa and me—This venerable gen|tlewoman was so much affected with my words, that the tears ran down her ancient cheeks; she thanked Heaven that I had not belied the presages she had made, on her first acquaintance with me; acknowledging my generosi|ty, as she called it, in the most elegant and pathetic ex|pressions; but declined my proposal, on account of her attachment to the dear melancholy cottage, were she had so peaceably consumed her solitary widowhood. Find|ing her immoveable on this subject, I insisted on her ac|cepting a present of thirty guineas, and took my leave, resolving to accommodate her with that sum annually, for the more comfortable support of the infirmities of age.

Having rode all night, I found myself at Canterbury

in the morning, where I alighted to procure fresh horses; and, as I walked into the inn, perceived an apothecary's shop on the other side of the street, with the name of Morgan over the door: alarmed at this discovery I could not help thinking that my old mess-mate had settled in this place; and upon inquiry, found my conjecture true, and that he was married lately to a widow of that city, by whom he had got three thousand pounds. Rejoiced at this intelligence, I went to his shop as soon as it was open, and found my friend behind the counter, busy in preparing a clyster.—I saluted him at entrance, with "Your servant, Mr. Morgan."—Upon which he looked at me, and replying,

Your most humble servant, goot Sir;

rubbed his ingredients in the mortar, without any emotion. "What!" said I,

Morgan, have you forgot your old mess-mate?

At these words, he look|ed up again, and starting, cried,

As Cot is my—sure it cannot—yes, by my salfation, I pelieve it is my tear friend Mr. Rantom.

—He was no sooner convinced of my identity, than he threw down the pestle, overset the mortar, and jumping over the board, swept up the con|tents with his clothes, flew about my neck, hugged me affectionately, and daubed me all over with turpentine and the yolks of eggs, 〈…〉〈…〉 had been mixing when I came in.—Our mutual congratulations being over, he told me that he found himself a widower upon his return from the West-Indies; that he had got interest to be appoint|ed surgeon of a man of war, in which capacity he had served some years, until he married an apothecary's wi|dow, with whom he now enjoyed a pretty good sum of money, peace and quiet, and an indifferent good trade.—He was very desirous of hearing my adventures, which I assured him I had not time to relate, but told him in ge|neral, my circumstances were very good, and that I hoped to see him when I should not be in such a hurry as at pre|sent.—He insisted, however, on my staying breakfast, and introduced me to his wife, who seemed to be a decent sensible woman, pretty well stricken in years. In the course of our conversation he shewed the sleeve buttons I had exchanged with him at our parting in the West In|dies, and was not a little proud to see that I had preser|ved his with the same care. When I informed him of

Macshane's condition, he seemed at first to exult over his distress; but after a little recollection, he said,

Well, he has paid for his malice, I forgife him, and may Cot forgife him likewise.

He expressed great concern for the soul of Captain Oakhum, which he believed was now gnashing its teeth: but it was some time before I could convince him of Thomson's being alive, at whose good fortune nevertheless he was extremely glad.

Having renewed our protestations of friendship, I bid the honest Welshman and his spouse farewel, and, taking post-horses, arrived at London that same night, where I found my father in good health, to whom I imparted what I had learned of Narcissa. This indulgent parent approved of my intention of marrying her even without a fortune, provided her brother's consent could not be ob|tained, promised to make over to me, in a few days, a sufficiency to maintain her in a fashionable manner, and expressed a desire of seeing this amiable creature who had captivated me so much. As I had not slept the night be|fore, and was besides fatigued with my journey, I found myself under a necessity of taking some repose, and went to bed accordingly: next morning, about ten o'clock, I took a chair, and, according to Mr. Sagely's directions, went to my charmer's lodgings, and inquired for Miss Williams. I had not waited in a parlour longer than a minute, when this young woman entered, and no sooner perceived me than she shrieked, and ran backward; I got between her and the door, and, clasping her in my arms, brought her to herself by an embrace. "Good Heaven," cried she,

Mr. Random, is it you, indeed? my mistress will run distracted with joy.

I told her, it was from an apprehension that my sudden appearance would have had some bad effect on my dear Narcissa, that I had desired to see her first, in order to concert some method of ac|quainting her mistress gradually with my arrival. She ap|proved of my conduct, and, after having yielded to the suggestions of her own friendship in asking if my voyage had been successful, charged herself with that office, and left me glowing with desire of seeing and embracing the object of my love. In a very little time I heard somebody coming down stairs in haste, and the voice of an angel pronounce with an eager tone,

O Heavens! is it possi|ble!

where is he?

How were my faculties aroused at this well-known sound! and how was my soul transported, when she broke in upon my view in all the bloom of ri|pened beauty!

Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye, In ev'ry gesture dignity and love!

You, whose souls are susceptible of the most delicate im|pressions, whose tender bosoms have felt the affecting vi|cissitudes of love, who have suffered an absence of eighteen long months from the dear object of your hope, and found, at your return, the melting fair as kind and con|stant as your heart could wish, do me justice on this occa|sion, and conceive what unutterable rapture possessed us both, while we flew into each other's arms! This was no time for speech—locked in a mutual embrace, we con|tinued some minutes in a silent trance of joy!—When I thus encircled all that my soul held dear—while I hung over her beauties, beheld her eyes sparkle, and every fea|ture flush with virtuous fondness—when I saw her enchant|ing bosom heave with undissembled rapture, and knew myself the happy cause—Heavens! what was my situa|tion!—I am tempted to commit my paper to the flames, and to renounce my pen for ever, because its most ardent and lucky expression so poorly describes the emotions of my soul. "O adorable Narcissa!" cried I;

O mira|cle of beauty, love, and truth! I at last fold thee in my arms! I at last can call thee mine!—No jealous brother shall thwart our happiness again; fortune hath at length recompensed me for all my sufferings, and enabled me to do justice to my love.

The dear creature smiled ineffably charming, and, with a look of bewitching ten|derness, said, "And shall we never part again?"—

Ne|ver!

I replied,

thou wondrous pattern of all earthly perfection! never, until death shall divide us!—By this ambrosial kiss, a thousand times more fragrant than the breeze that sweeps the orange grove, I never more will leave thee.

As my first transport abated, my passion grew turbulent and unruly. I was giddy with standing on the brink of bliss, and all my virtue and philosophy were scarce suffi|cient to restrain the inordinate sallies of desire. Narcissa

perceived the conflict within me, and with her usual dig|nity of prudence called off my imagination from the ob|ject in view, and, with eager expressions of interested cu|riosity, desired to know the particulars of my voyage. In this I gratified her inclination, bringing my story down to the present hour. She was infinitely surprised at the circumstance of my finding my father, which brought tears into her lovely eyes. She was transported at hearing that he approved my flame, discovered a longing desire of being introduced to him, congratulated herself and me upon my good fortune, and observed, that this great and unexpected stroke of fate seemed to have been brought about by the immediate direction of Providence. Having entertained ourselves some hours with the genuine effusions of our souls, I obtained her consent to complete my hap|piness as soon as my father should judge it proper; and applying with my own hands a valuable necklace, com|posed of diamonds and amethysts set alternately, which an old Spanish lady at Paraguay presented me with, I took my leave, promising to return in the afternoon with Don Rodrigo. When I went home, this generous parent inquired very affectionately about the health of my dear Narcissa, to whom, that I might be the more agreeable, he put into my hands a deed, by which I found myself in possession of fifteen thousand pounds, exclusive of the pro|fits of my own merchandise, which amounted to three thousand more. After dinner I accompanied him to the lodging of my mistress, who, being dressed for the occa|sion, made a most dazzling appearance. I could perceive him struck with her figure, which I really think was the most beautiful that ever was created under the fun. He embraced her tenderly, and told her, he was proud of having a son who had spirit to attempt, and qualifications to engage the affections of such a fine lady. She blushed at this compliment, and, with eyes full of the softest lan|guishment, turned upon me, and said, she would have been unworthy of Mr. Random's attention, had she been blind to his extraordinary merit. I made no other answer than a low bow. My father, sighing, pronounced,

Such once was my Charlotte!

while the tear rushed into his eye, and the tender heart of Narcissa manifested itself in two precious drops of sympathy, which, but for his pre|sence,

I would have kissed away. Without repeating the particulars of our conversation, I shall only observe, that Don Rodrigo was as much charmed with her good sense as with her appearance; and she was no less pleased with his understanding and polite address. It was determined, that he should write to the squire, signifying his appro|bation of my passion for his sister, and offering a settle|ment which he should have no reason to reject, and that, if he should refuse the proposal, he should crown our mu|tual wishes without any farther regard.

CHAP. XXXII.

My father makes a present to Narcissa—The letter is dis|patched to her brother—I appear among my acquaint|ance—Banter's behaviour—the squire refuses his consent—my uncle comes to town—approves of my choice—I am married—we meet the squire and his lady at the play—our acquaintance is courted.

AFTER having spent the evening to the satisfaction of all present, my father addressed himself thus to Nar|cissa:

Madam, give me leave to consider you hereafter as my daughter, in which capacity I insist upon your accepting this first instance of my paternal duty and affection.

With these words, he put into her hand a bank-note for 500l. which she no sooner examined than, with a low curtsey, she replied,

Dear Sir, though I have not the least occasion for this supply, I have too great a veneration for you to refuse this proof of your generosity and esteem, which I the more freely receive, because I already look upon Mr. Random's interest as inseparably connected with mine.

He was extremely well pleased at her frank and ingenuous reply: upon which we saluted, and wished her good night. The letter, at my request, was dispatched to Sussex by an express, and in the mean time Don Rodrigo, to grace my nuptials, hired a ready-furnished house, and set up a very hand|some equipage.

Though I passed the greater part of the day with the darling of my soul, I found leisure sometimes to be among my former acquaintance, who were astonished at the mag|nificence

of my appearance: Banter in particular was confounded at the strange vicissitudes of my fortune, the causes of which he endeavoured in vain to discover, until I thought fit to disclose the whole secret of my last voyage, partly on consideration of our former intimacy, and partly to prevent unfavourable conjectures which he and others, in all probability, would have made in regard to my circumstances. He professed great satisfaction at this piece of news, and I had no cause to believe him in|sincere, when I considered, that he would now look upon himself as acquitted of the debt he owed me, and at the same time flatter himself with hopes of borrowing more.—I carried him home to dinner with me, and my father liked his conversation so much, that upon hearing his dif|ficulties, he desired me to accommodate him for the pre|sent, and inquire if he would accept of a commission in the army, towards the purchase of which he would wil|lingly lend him money. Accordingly, I gave my friend an opportunity of being alone with me, when, as I ex|pected, he told me, that he was just upon the point of be|ing reconciled to an old rich uncle, whose heir he was, but wanted a few pieces for immediate expence, which he desired I would lend him, and take his bond for the whole. His demand was limited to ten guineas; and when I put twenty into his hands, he stared at me for some moments, then putting it into his purse, said,

Ay, 'tis all one, you'll have the whole in a very short time.

When I had taken his note, to save the expence of a bond, I ex|pressed some surprise, that a fellow of his spirit should loi|ter away his time in idleness, and asked why he did not chuse to make his fortune in the army.—"What!" said he,

throw away money upon a subaltern's commission, to be under the command of a parcel of scoundrels, who have raised themselves above me by the most infa|mous practices! no, I love independency too well to sacrifice my life, health and pleasure to such a pitiful consideration.

—Finding him averse to this way of life, I changed the subject, and returned to Don Rodrigo, who had just received the following epistle from the squire.

SIR,

CONCERNING a letter which I received, subscribed R. Random, this is the answer:—As for you, I know nothing of you.—Your son, or pretended son, I have seen;—if he marries my sister, at his peril be it; I do declare, that he shall not have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 farthing of her for|tune, which becomes my property, if she takes a hus|band without my consent.—Your settlement I do be|lieve is all a sham, and yourself no better than you should be; but if you had all the wealth of the Indies, your son shall never marry in our family with the con|sent of

ORSON TOPEHALL.

My father was not much surprised at this polite letter, after having heard the character of the author: and as for me, I was even pleased at his refusal, because I now had an opportunity of shewing my disinterested love. By his permission I waited upon my charmer, and having imparted to her the contents of her brother's letter, at which she wept bitterly, in spite of all my consolation and caresses, the time of our marriage was fixed at the distance of two days.—During this interval in which my soul was wound up to the last stretch of rapturous expectation, Narcissa en|deavoured to reconcile some of her relations in town to her marriage with me; but finding them all deaf to her re|monstrances, either out of envy or prejudice, she told me with the most enchanting sweetness, while the tears be|dewed her lovely cheeks,

Sure the world will no longer question your generosity, when you take a poor forlorn beggar to your arms.

Affected with her sorrow, I pressed the fair mourner to my breast, and swore that she was more dear and welcome on that account, because she had sacrificed her friends and fortune to her love for me.—My uncle, for whose character she had a great venera|tion, being by this time come to town, I introduced him to my bride: and although he was not very much subject to refined sensations, he was struck dumb with admiration at her beauty. After having kissed and gazed at her for some time, he turned to me, saying,

Odds bobs, Ro|ry! here's a notable prize indeed, finely built and glo|riously

rigged, i'faith! If she an't well manned, when you have the command of her, sirrah, you deserve to go to sea in cockle-shell.—No offence, I hope, niece; you must not mind what I say, being (as the saying is) a plain sea-saring man, thof, mayhap, I have as much regard for you as another.

—She received him with great civility; told him, she had longed a great while to see a person to whom she was so much indebted for his generosity to Mr. Random; that she looked upon him as her uncle, by which name she begged leave to call him for the future, and that she was very sure he could say nothing that could give her the least offence. The honest captain was transported at her courteous behaviour, and insisted upon giving her away at the ceremony, swear|ing that he loved her as well as if she was his own child, and that he would give two thousand guineas to the first fruit of our love, as soon as it could squeak.—Every thing being prepared for the solemnization of our nuptials, which were to be performed privately at my father's house, the auspicious hour arrived, when Don Rodrigo and my uncle went in the coach to fetch the bride and Miss Wil|liams; leaving me with a parson, Banter, and Strap, nei|ther of whom had as yet seen my charming mistress.—My faithful valet, who was on the rack of impatience to be|hold a lady of whom he had heard so much, no sooner understood that the coach was returned, than he placed himself at a window to have a peep at her as she alighted; and when he saw her, he clapped his hands together, turn|ed up the white of his eyes, and with his mouth wide open, remained in a sort of extasy, which broke out into,

O Dea certe!—qualis in Eurotoe ripis, aut per juga Cyn|thi exercet Diana chorus!

—The doctor and Banter were surprised to hear my man speak Latin; but when my father led Narcissa into the room, the object of their ad|miration was soon changed, as appeared in the counte|nance of both.—Indeed they must have been the most in|sensible of all beings, could they have beheld, without emotion, the divine creature that approached! She was dressed in a sack of white sattin, embroidered on the breast with gold; the crown of her head was covered with a small French cap, from whence descended her beautiful hair in ringlets, that waved upon her snowy neck, which

dignified the necklace I had given her; her looks glowed with modesty and love; and her bosom, through the veil of gauze that shaded it, afforded a prospect of Elysium!—I received this inestimable gift of Providence as became me; and in a little time the clergyman did his office, my uncle, at his own earnest request, acting the part of a fa|ther to my dear Narcissa, who trembled very much, and had scarce spirits sufficient to support her under this great change of situation.—Soon as she was mine by the laws of heaven and earth, I printed a burning kiss upon her lips, my father embraced her tenderly, my uncle hugged her with great affection, and I presented her to my friend Ba••ter, who saluted her in a very polite manner; Miss Williams hung round her neck, and wept plentifully; while Strap fell upon his knees, and begged to kiss his lady's hand, which she presented with great affability.—I shall not pretend to describe my own feelings at this juncture; let it suffice to say, that after having supped and entertained ourselves till ten o'clock, I cautioned my Narcissa against exposing her health by sitting up too late, and she was prevailed upon to withdraw with her maid to an apartment destined for us. When she left the room, her face was overspread with a blush that set all my blood in a state of fermentation, and made every pulse beat with tenfold vigour! She was so cruel as to let me remain in this condition a full half hour; when, no longer able to restrain my impatience, I broke from the company, burst into her chamber, pushed out her confidante, locked the door, and found her—O heaven and earth! a feast, a thousand times more delicious than my most sanguine hope presaged!—But let me not profane the chaste mysteries of Hymen—I was the happiest of men.

In the morning I was awaked by three or four drums, which Banter had placed under the window; upon which I withdrew the curtain, and enjoyed the unspeakable sa|tisfaction of contemplating those angelic charms which were now in my possession! Beauty! which, whether sleep|ing or awake, shot forth peculiar graces!—The light dart|ing upon my Narcissa's eyes, she awoke also, and, recol|lecting her situation, hid her blushes in my bosom. I was distracted with joy! I could not believe the evidence of my senses, and looked upon all that had happened as the

fictions of a dream! In the mean time my uncle knocked at the door, and bid me turn out; for I had had a long spell. I got up accordingly, and sent Miss Williams to her mistress, myself receiving the congratulations of Cap|tain Bowling, who rallied me in his sea phrase with great success. In less than an hour Don Rodrigo led my wife in to breakfast, where she received the compliments of the company on her looks, which they said, if possible, were improved by matrimony. As her delicate ears were of|fended with none of those indecent ambiguities, which are too often spoke on such occasions, she behaved with dig|nity, unaffected modesty, and ease; and, as a testimony of my affection and esteem, I presented her, in presence of them all, with a deed, by which I settled the whole fortune I was possessed of on her and her heirs for ever. She accepted it with a glance of the most tender acknowledg|ment, observed, that she could not be surprised at any thing of this kind I should do, and desired my father to take the trouble of keeping it, saying,

Next to my own, Mr. Random, you are the person in whom I ought to have the greatest confidence.

Charmed with her prudent and ingenuous manner of proceeding, he took the paper, and assured her, that it should not lose its value while in his custody.

As we had not many visits to give and receive, the lit|tle 〈◊〉〈◊〉 we staid in town was spent in going to public di|versions, where, I have the vanity to think, Narcissa sel|dom was eclipsed. One night, in particular, we had sent our footman to keep one of the stage-boxes, which we no sooner entered, than we perceived in the opposite box the squire and his lady, who seemed not a little surprised at seeing us. I was pleased at this opportunity of confront|ing them, the more, because Melinda was robbed of all her admirers by my wife, who happened that night to outshine her sister both in beauty and in dress. She was piqued at Narcissa's victory, tossed her head a thousand different ways, flirted her fan, looked at us with disdain, then whispered to her husband, and broke out into an af|fected giggle; but all her arts proved ineffectual either to discompose Mrs. Random, or to conceal her own mor|tification, which at length forced her away long before the play was done. The news of our marriage being

spread, with many circumstances to our disadvantage, by the industry of this malignant creature, a certain set of persons, fond of scandal, began to inquire into the par|ticulars of my fortune, which they no sooner understood to be independent, than the tables were turned, and our ac|quaintance was courted as much as it had been despised be|fore: but Narcissa had too much dignity of pride to encou|rage this change of conduct, especially in her relations, whom she could never be prevailed upon to see after the malicious reports they had raised to her prejudice.

CHAP. XXXIII.

My father intends to visit the place of his nativity—we pro|pose to accompany him—my uncle renews his will in my favour, determining to go to sea again—we set out for Scotland—arrive at Edinburgh—purchase our paternal estate—proceed to it—halt at the town where I was edu|cated—take up my bond to Crab—the behaviour of Potion and his wife, and one of my female cousins—our reception at the estate—Strap marries Miss Williams, and is set|tled by my father to his own satisfaction—I am more and more happy.

MY father intending to revisit his native country, and pay the tribute of a few tears at my mother's grave, Narcissa and I resolved to accompany him in the execution of this pious office, and accordingly prepared for the journey; in which, however, my uncle would not engage, being resolved to try his fortune once more at sea. In the mean time he renewed his will in favour of my wife and me, and deposited it in the hands of his brother-in-law; while I (that I might not be wanting to my own interest) summoned the squire to produce his father's will at Doctor's Commons, and employed a proctor to manage the affair in my absence.

Every thing being thus settled, we took leave of all our friends in London, and set out for Scotland, Don Rodrigo, Narcissa, Miss Williams, and I in the coach, and Strap, with two men in livery, on horseback: as we made easy stages, my charmer held it out very well till we arrived at Edinburgh, where we proposed to rest ourselves

some weeks. People of our figure could not fail of attract|ing the notice of such a small place, where, as soon as our family was known, we were loaded with caresses, and Narcissa was so much pleased with the civilities she receiv|ed, that she protested she would never desire to live in any other part of the world.

Here Don Rodrigo having intelligence that his ne|phew the fox-hunter had spent his estate, which was to be exposed to sale by public auction, he determined to make a purchase of the spot where he was born, and actually bought the whole of his father's lands.

In a few days after the bargain was made, we left Edinburgh, in order to go and take possession; and, by the way, halted one night in the town where I was edu|cated.—Upon inquiry, I found that Mr. Crab was dead; whereupon I sent for his executor, paid the sum I owed, with interest, and took up my bond. Mr. Potion and his wife, hearing of our arrival, had the assurance to come to the inn where we lodged, and sent up their names, with a desire of being permitted to pay their respects to my fa|ther and me: but their sordid behaviour towards me, when I was an orphan, had made too deep an impression on my mind to be effaced by this mean mercenary piece of condescension: I therefore rejected their message with disdain, and bid Strap tell them, that my father and I desired to have no communication with such low-minded wretches as they were.

They had not been gone half an hour, when a woman, without any ceremony, opened the door of the room where we sat, and making towards my father, accosted him with, "Uncle, your servant—I am glad to see you."—This was no other than one of my female cousins mentioned in the first part of my memoirs, to whom Don Rodrigo replied, "Pray, who are you, Madam?"—"Oh!" cried she,

my cousin Rory, there, knows me very well—Don't you remember me, Rory?

—"Yes, Madam," said I,

for my own part, I shall never forget you.—Sir, this is one of the young ladies, who (as I have formerly told you) treated me so humanely in my childhood!

When I pronounced these words, my father's resentment glowed in his visage, and he ordered her to begone, with such a commanding aspect, that she retired in a fright,

muttering curses as she went down stair: we afterwards learned that she was married to an ensign, who had alrea|dy spent all her fortune; and that her sister had bore a child to her mother's footman, who is now her husband, and keeps a petty ale-house in the country.

The fame of our flourishing condition having arrived at this place before us, we got notice that the magistrates intended next day to compliment us with the freedom of their town; upon which my father, considering their complaisance in the right point of view, ordered the hor|ses to the coach early in the morning, when we proceed|ed to our estate, which lay about a dozen miles from this place.

When we came within half a league of the house, we were met by a prodigious number of poor tenants, men, women, and children, who testified their joy by loud ac|clamations, and accompanied our coach to the gate. As there is no part of the world in which the peasants are more attached to their lords than in Scotland, we were almost devoured by their affection, in getting out of the coach: my father had always been their favourite, and now that he appeared their master, after being thought dead so long, their joy broke out into a thousand extra|vagances: when we got into the court-yard, we were sur|rounded by a vast number, who crowded together so close|ly to see us, that several were in danger of being squeez|ed to death; those who were near Don Rodrigo fell upon their knees, and kissed his hand, or the hem of his garment, praying aloud for long life and prosperity to him; others approached Narcissa and me in the same manner; while the rest clapped their hands at a distance, and invoked Heaven to shower its choicest blessings on our heads!—In short, the whole scene, though rude, was so affecting, that the gentle partner of my heart wept over it, and my father himself could not refrain from dropping a tear.

Having welcomed his daughter and me to his house, he ordered some bullocks to be killed, and some hogsheads of ale to be brought from the neighbouring village, to regale those honest people, who had not enjoyed such a holiday for many years before.

Next day we were visited by the gentlemen in the

neighbourhood, most of them our relations, one of whom brought along with him my cousin the fox-hunter, who had staid at his house since he was obliged to leave his own. My father was generous enough to receive him kindly, and even promised to purchase for him a commis|sion in the army, at which he expressed great thankfulness and joy.

My charming Narcissa was universally admired and loved for her beauty, affability and good sense▪ and so well pleased with the situation of the place, and the com|pany around, that she has not yet discovered the least de|sire of changing her habitation.

We had not been many days settled, when I prevailed upon my father to pay a visit to the village where I had been at school. Here we were received by the principal inhabitants, who entertained us in the church, where Mr. Syntax the schoolmaster (my tyrant being dead) pro|nounced a Latin speech in honour of our family: and none exerted themselves more than Strap's father and re|lations, who looked upon the honest valet as the first gen|tleman of their race, and honoured his benefactors ac|cordingly.—Having received the homage of this place, we retired, leaving forty pounds for the benefit of the poor of the parish; and that very night Strap being a little elevated with the regard that had been shewn to him, and to me on his account, ventured to tell me that he had a sneaking kindness for Miss Williams, and that if his lady and I would use our interest in his behalf, he did not doubt that she would listen to his addresses. Surprised at this proposal, I asked if he knew the story of that unfor|tunate young gentlewoman: upon which he replied,

Yes, yes, I know what you mean—she has been unhappy, I grant you—but what of that? I am convinced of her reformation; or else you and my good lady would not treat her with such respect.—As for the censure of the world, I value it not a fig's end: besides, the world knows nothing of the matter.

I commended his phi|losophy, and interested Narcissa in his cause; who inter|ceded so effectually, that in a little time Miss Williams yielded her consent, and they were married, with the ap|probation of Don Rodrigo, who gave him five hundred pounds to stock a farm, and made him overseer of his

estate. My generous bed-fellow gave her maid the same sum; so that they live in great peace and plenty, within half a mile of us, and daily put up prayers for our pre|servation.

If there be such a thing as true happiness on earth, I enjoy it.—The impetuous transports of my passion are now settled, and mellowed into endearing fondness and tranquillity of love, rooted by that intimate connection and interchange of hearts, which ••ought but virtuous wedlock can produce. Fortune seems determined to make ample amends for her former cruelty; for my proctor writes, that notwithstanding the clause in my father-in-law's will, on which the squire founds his claim, I shall certainly recover my wife's fortune, in consequence of a codicil annexed, which explains that clause, and limits her restriction to the age of nineteen, after which she was at her own disposal.—I would have set out for London immediately after receiving this piece of intelligence; but my dear angel has been qualmish of late, and begins to grow remarkably round in the waist; so that I cannot leave her in such an interesting situation, which I hope will produce something to crown my felicity.