THE WORKS OF HENRY FIELDING EDITED BY GEORGE SAINTSBURY IN TWELVE VOLUMES VOL. IX. AMELIAVOL. III. [Illustration: Leaned both his elbows on the table fixed both his eyeson her] AMELIA BY HENRY FIELDING ESQ VOL. III. EDITED BY GEORGESAINTSBURY WITHILLUSTRATIONS BYHERBERT RAILTON& E. J. WHEELER. MDCCCXCIII CONTENTS OF VOL. III. BOOK IX. CHAPTER IIn which the history looks backwards CHAPTER II. In which the history goes forward CHAPTER III. A conversation between Dr Harrison and others CHAPTER IV. A dialogue between Booth and Amelia CHAPTER V. A conversation between Amelia and Dr Harrison, with the result CHAPTER VI. Containing as surprising an accident as is perhaps recorded in history CHAPTER VII. In which the author appears to be master of that profound learningcalled the knowledge of the town CHAPTER VIII. In which two strangers make their appearance CHAPTER IX. A scene of modern wit and humour CHAPTER X. A curious conversation between the doctor, the young clergyman, andthe young clergyman's father BOOK X. CHAPTER I. To which we will prefix no preface CHAPTER II. What happened at the masquerade CHAPTER III. Consequences of the masqtierade, not uncommon nor surprizing CHAPTER IV. Consequences of the masquerade CHAPTER V. In which Colonel Bath appears in great glory CHAPTER VI. Read, gamester, and observe CHAPTER VII. In which Booth receives a visit from Captain Trent CHAPTER VIII. Contains a letter and other matters CHAPTER IX. Containing some things worthy observation BOOK XI CHAPTER I. Containing a very polite scene CHAPTER II. Matters political CHAPTER III. The history of Mr. Trent CHAPTER IV. Containing some distress CHAPTER V. Containing more wormwood and other ingredients CHAPTER VI. A scene of the tragic kind CHAPTER VII. In which Mr. Booth meets with more than one adventure CHAPTER VIII. In which Amelia appears in a light more amiable than gay CHAPTER IX. A very tragic scene BOOK XII. CHAPTER I. The book begins with polite history CHAPTER II. In which Amelia visits her husband CHAPTER III. Containing matter pertinent to the history CHAPTER IV. In which Dr Harrison visits Colonel James CHAPTER V. What passed at the bailiff's house CHAPTER VI. What passed between the doctor and the sick man CHAPTER VII. In which the history draws towards a conclusion CHAPTER VIII. Thus this history draws nearer to a conclusion CHAPTER IX. In which the history is concluded LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. LEANING BOTH HIS ELBOWS ON THE TABLE, FIXED HIS EYES ON HER BOOTH BETWEEN A BLUE DOMINO AND A SHEPHERDESS DR HARRISON BOOK IX. Chapter i. _In which the history looks backwards. _ Before we proceed farther with our history it may be proper to lookback a little, in order to account for the late conduct of DoctorHarrison; which, however inconsistent it may have hitherto appeared, when examined to the bottom will be found, I apprehend, to be trulycongruous with all the rules of the most perfect prudence as well aswith the most consummate goodness. We have already partly seen in what light Booth had been representedto the doctor abroad. Indeed, the accounts which were sent of thecaptain, as well by the curate as by a gentleman of the neighbourhood, were much grosser and more to his disadvantage than the doctor waspleased to set them forth in his letter to the person accused. Whatsense he had of Booth's conduct was, however, manifest by that letter. Nevertheless, he resolved to suspend his final judgment till hisreturn; and, though he censured him, would not absolutely condemn himwithout ocular demonstration. The doctor, on his return to his parish, found all the accusationswhich had been transmitted to him confirmed by many witnesses, ofwhich the curate's wife, who had been formerly a friend to Amelia, andstill preserved the outward appearance of friendship, was thestrongest. She introduced all with--"I am sorry to say it; and it isfriendship which bids me speak; and it is for their good it should betold you. " After which beginnings she never concluded a single speechwithout some horrid slander and bitter invective. Besides the malicious turn which was given to these affairs in thecountry, which were owing a good deal to misfortune, and some littleperhaps to imprudence, the whole neighbourhood rung with several grossand scandalous lies, which were merely the inventions of his enemies, and of which the scene was laid in London since his absence. Poisoned with all this malice, the doctor came to town; and, learningwhere Booth lodged, went to make him a visit. Indeed, it was thedoctor, and no other, who had been at his lodgings that evening whenBooth and Amelia were walking in the Park, and concerning which thereader may be pleased to remember so many strange and odd conjectures. Here the doctor saw the little gold watch and all those fine trinketswith which the noble lord had presented the children, and which, fromthe answers given him by the poor ignorant, innocent girl, he couldhave no doubt had been purchased within a few days by Amelia. This account tallied so well with the ideas he had imbibed of Booth'sextravagance in the country, that he firmly believed both the husbandand wife to be the vainest, silliest, and most unjust people alive. Itwas, indeed, almost incredible that two rational beings should beguilty of such absurdity; but, monstrous and absurd as it was, oculardemonstration appeared to be the evidence against them. The doctor departed from their lodgings enraged at this supposeddiscovery, and, unhappily for Booth, was engaged to supper that veryevening with the country gentleman of whom Booth had rented a farm. Asthe poor captain happened to be the subject of conversation, andoccasioned their comparing notes, the account which the doctor gave ofwhat he had seen that evening so incensed the gentleman, to whom Boothwas likewise a debtor, that he vowed he would take a writ out againsthim the next morning, and have his body alive or dead; and the doctorwas at last persuaded to do the same. Mr. Murphy was thereuponimmediately sent for; and the doctor in his presence repeated againwhat he had seen at his lodgings as the foundation of his suing him, which the attorney, as we have before seen, had blabbed to Atkinson. But no sooner did the doctor hear that Booth was arrested than thewretched condition of his wife and family began to affect his mind. The children, who were to be utterly undone with their father, wereintirely innocent; and as for Amelia herself, though he thought he hadmost convincing proofs of very blameable levity, yet his formerfriendship and affection to her were busy to invent every excuse, till, by very heavily loading the husband, they lightened thesuspicion against the wife. In this temper of mind he resolved to pay Amelia a second visit, andwas on his way to Mrs. Ellison when the serjeant met him and madehimself known to him. The doctor took his old servant into a coffee-house, where he received from him such an account of Booth and hisfamily, that he desired the serjeant to shew him presently to Amelia;and this was the cordial which we mentioned at the end of the ninthchapter of the preceding book. The doctor became soon satisfied concerning the trinkets which hadgiven him so much uneasiness, and which had brought so much mischiefon the head of poor Booth. Amelia likewise gave the doctor somesatisfaction as to what he had heard of her husband's behaviour in thecountry; and assured him, upon her honour, that Booth could so wellanswer every complaint against his conduct, that she had no doubt butthat a man of the doctor's justice and candour would entirely acquithim, and would consider him as an innocent unfortunate man, who wasthe object of a good man's compassion, not of his anger or resentment. This worthy clergyman, who was not desirous of finding proofs tocondemn the captain or to justify his own vindictive proceedings, but, on the contrary, rejoiced heartily in every piece of evidence whichtended to clear up the character of his friend, gave a ready ear toall which Amelia said. To this, indeed, he was induced by the love healways had for that lady, by the good opinion he entertained of her, as well as by pity for her present condition, than which nothingappeared more miserable; for he found her in the highest agonies ofgrief and despair, with her two little children crying over theirwretched mother. These are, indeed, to a well-disposed mind, the mosttragical sights that human nature can furnish, and afford a justermotive to grief and tears in the beholder than it would be to see allthe heroes who have ever infested the earth hanged all together in astring. The doctor felt this sight as he ought. He immediately endeavoured tocomfort the afflicted; in which he so well succeeded, that he restoredto Amelia sufficient spirits to give him the satisfaction we havementioned: after which he declared he would go and release herhusband, which he accordingly did in the manner we have above related. Chapter ii _In which the history goes forward. _ We now return to that period of our history to which we had brought itat the end of our last book. Booth and his friends arrived from the bailiff's, at the serjeant'slodgings, where Booth immediately ran up-stairs to his Amelia; betweenwhom I shall not attempt to describe the meeting. Nothing certainlywas ever more tender or more joyful. This, however, I will observe, that a very few of these exquisite moments, of which the best mindsonly are capable, do in reality over-balance the longest enjoymentswhich can ever fall to the lot of the worst. Whilst Booth and his wife were feasting their souls with the mostdelicious mutual endearments, the doctor was fallen to play with thetwo little children below-stairs. While he was thus engaged the littleboy did somewhat amiss; upon which the doctor said, "If you do so anymore I will take your papa away from you again. "--"Again! sir, " saidthe child; "why, was it you then that took away my papa before?""Suppose it was, " said the doctor; "would not you forgive me?" "Yes, "cries the child, "I would forgive you; because a Christian mustforgive everybody; but I should hate you as long as I live. " The doctor was so pleased with the boy's answer, that he caught him inhis arms and kissed him; at which time Booth and his wife returned. The doctor asked which of them was their son's instructor in hisreligion; Booth answered that he must confess Amelia had all the meritof that kind. "I should have rather thought he had learnt of hisfather, " cries the doctor; "for he seems a good soldier-likeChristian, and professes to hate his enemies with a very good grace. " "How, Billy!" cries Amelia. "I am sure I did not teach you so. " "I did not say I would hate my enemies, madam, " cries the boy; "I onlysaid I would hate papa's enemies. Sure, mamma, there is no harm inthat; nay, I am sure there is no harm in it, for I have heard you saythe same thing a thousand times. " The doctor smiled on the child, and, chucking him under the chin, toldhim he must hate nobody 5 and now Mrs. Atkinson, who had provided adinner for them all, desired them to walk up and partake of it. And now it was that Booth was first made acquainted with theserjeant's marriage, as was Dr Harrison; both of whom greatlyfelicitated him upon it. Mrs. Atkinson, who was, perhaps, a little more confounded than shewould have been had she married a colonel, said, "If I have donewrong, Mrs. Booth is to answer for it, for she made the match; indeed, Mr. Atkinson, you are greatly obliged to the character which this ladygives of you. " "I hope he will deserve it, " said the doctor; "and, ifthe army hath not corrupted a good boy, I believe I may answer forhim. " While our little company were enjoying that happiness which neverfails to attend conversation where all present are pleased with eachother, a visitant arrived who was, perhaps, not very welcome to any ofthem. This was no other than Colonel James, who, entering the roomwith much gaiety, went directly up to Booth, embraced him, andexpressed great satisfaction at finding him there; he then made anapology for not attending him in the morning, which he said had beenimpossible; and that he had, with the utmost difficulty, put off somebusiness of great consequence in order to serve him this afternoon;"but I am glad on your account, " cried he to Booth, "that my presencewas not necessary. " Booth himself was extremely satisfied with this declaration, andfailed not to return him as many thanks as he would have deserved hadhe performed his promise; but the two ladies were not quite so wellsatisfied. As for the serjeant, he had slipt out of the room when thecolonel entered, not entirely out of that bashfulness which we haveremarked him to be tainted with, but indeed, from what had past in themorning, he hated the sight of the colonel as well on the account ofhis wife as on that of his friend. The doctor, on the contrary, on what he had formerly heard from bothAmelia and her husband of the colonel's generosity and friendship, hadbuilt so good an opinion of him, that he was very much pleased withseeing him, and took the first opportunity of telling him so. "Colonel, " said the doctor, "I have not the happiness of being knownto you; but I have long been desirous of an acquaintance with agentleman in whose commendation I have heard so much from somepresent. " The colonel made a proper answer to this compliment, andthey soon entered into a familiar conversation together; for thedoctor was not difficult of access; indeed, he held the strangereserve which is usually practised in this nation between people whoare in any degree strangers to each other to be very unbecoming theChristian character. The two ladies soon left the room; and the remainder of the visit, which was not very long, past in discourse on various common subjects, not worth recording. In the conclusion, the colonel invited Booth andhis lady, and the doctor, to dine with him the next day. To give Colonel James his due commendation, he had shewn a greatcommand of himself and great presence of mind on this occasion; for, to speak the plain truth, the visit was intended to Amelia alone; nordid he expect, or perhaps desire, anything less than to find thecaptain at home. The great joy which he suddenly conveyed into hiscountenance at the unexpected sight of his friend is to be attributedto that noble art which is taught in those excellent schools calledthe several courts of Europe. By this, men are enabled to dress outtheir countenances as much at their own pleasure as they do theirbodies, and to put on friendship with as much ease as they can a lacedcoat. When the colonel and doctor were gone, Booth acquainted Amelia withthe invitation he had received. She was so struck with the news, andbetrayed such visible marks of confusion and uneasiness, that theycould not have escaped Booth's observation had suspicion given him theleast hint to remark; but this, indeed, is the great optic-glasshelping us to discern plainly almost all that passes in the minds ofothers, without some use of which nothing is more purblind than humannature. Amelia, having recovered from her first perturbation, answered, "Mydear, I will dine with you wherever you please to lay your commands onme. " "I am obliged to you, my dear soul, " cries Booth; "your obedienceshall be very easy, for my command will be that you shall alwaysfollow your own inclinations. " "My inclinations, " answered she, "would, I am afraid, be too unreasonable a confinement to you; forthey would always lead me to be with you and your children, with atmost a single friend or two now and then. " "O my dear!" replied he, "large companies give us a greater relish for our own society when wereturn to it; and we shall be extremely merry, for Doctor Harrisondines with us. " "I hope you will, my dear, " cries she;" but I own Ishould have been better pleased to have enjoyed a few days withyourself and the children, with no other person but Mrs. Atkinson, forwhom I have conceived a violent affection, and who would have given usbut little interruption. However, if you have promised, I must undergothe penance. " "Nay, child, " cried he, "I am sure I would have refused, could I have guessed it had been in the least disagreeable to youthough I know your objection. " "Objection!" cries Amelia eagerly "Ihave no objection. " "Nay, nay, " said he, "come, be honest, I know yourobjection, though you are unwilling to own it. " "Good Heavens!" cryedAmelia, frightened, "what do you mean? what objection?" "Why, "answered he, "to the company of Mrs. James; and I must confess shehath not behaved to you lately as you might have expected; but youought to pass all that by for the sake of her husband, to whom we haveboth so many obligations, who is the worthiest, honestest, and mostgenerous fellow in the universe, and the best friend to me that everman had. " Amelia, who had far other suspicions, and began to fear that herhusband had discovered them, was highly pleased when she saw himtaking a wrong scent. She gave, therefore, a little in to the deceit, and acknowledged the truth of what he had mentioned; but said that thepleasure she should have in complying with his desires would highlyrecompense any dissatisfaction which might arise on any other account;and shortly after ended the conversation on this subject with herchearfully promising to fulfil his promise. In reality, poor Amelia had now a most unpleasant task to undertake;for she thought it absolutely necessary to conceal from her husbandthe opinion she had conceived of the colonel. For, as she knew thecharacters, as well of her husband as of his friend, or rather enemy(both being often synonymous in the language of the world), she hadthe utmost reason to apprehend something very fatal might attend herhusband's entertaining the same thought of James which filled andtormented her own breast. And, as she knew that nothing but these thoughts could justify theleast unkind, or, indeed, the least reserved behaviour to James, whohad, in all appearance, conferred the greatest obligations upon Boothand herself, she was reduced to a dilemma the most dreadful that canattend a virtuous woman, as it often gives the highest triumph, andsometimes no little advantage, to the men of professed gallantry. In short, to avoid giving any umbrage to her husband, Amelia wasforced to act in a manner which she was conscious must giveencouragement to the colonel; a situation which perhaps requires asgreat prudence and delicacy as any in which the heroic part of thefemale character can be exerted. Chapter iii. _A conversation between Dr Harrison and others_. The next day Booth and his lady, with the doctor, met at ColonelJames's, where Colonel Bath likewise made one of the company. Nothing very remarkable passed at dinner, or till the ladies withdrew. During this time, however, the behaviour of Colonel James was such asgave some uneasiness to Amelia, who well understood his meaning, though the particulars were too refined and subtle to be observed byany other present. When the ladies were gone, which was as soon as Amelia could prevailon Mrs. James to depart, Colonel Bath, who had been pretty brisk withchampagne at dinner, soon began to display his magnanimity. "Mybrother tells me, young gentleman, " said he to Booth, "that you havebeen used very ill lately by some rascals, and I have no doubt but youwill do yourself justice. " Booth answered that he did not know what he meant. "Since I mustmention it then, " cries the colonel, "I hear you have been arrested;and I think you know what satisfaction is to be required by a man ofhonour. " "I beg, sir, " says the doctor, "no more may be mentioned of thatmatter. I am convinced no satisfaction will be required of the captaintill he is able to give it. " "I do not understand what you mean by able, " cries the colonel. Towhich the doctor answered, "That it was of too tender a nature tospeak more of. " "Give me your hand, doctor, " cries the colonel; "I see you are a manof honour, though you wear a gown. It is, as you say, a matter of atender nature. Nothing, indeed, is so tender as a man's honour. Cursemy liver, if any man--I mean, that is, if any gentleman, was to arrestme, I would as surely cut his throat as--" "How, sir!" said the doctor, "would you compensate one breach of thelaw by a much greater, and pay your debts by committing murder?" "Why do you mention law between gentlemen?" says the colonel. "A manof honour wears his law by his side; and can the resentment of anaffront make a gentleman guilty of murder? and what greater affrontcan one man cast upon another than by arresting him? I am convincedthat he who would put up an arrest would put up a slap in the face. " Here the colonel looked extremely fierce, and the divine stared withastonishment at this doctrine; when Booth, who well knew theimpossibility of opposing the colonel's humour with success, began toplay with it; and, having first conveyed a private wink to the doctor, he said there might be cases undoubtedly where such an affront oughtto be resented; but that there were others where any resentment wasimpracticable: "As, for instance, " said he, "where the man is arrestedby a woman. " "I could not be supposed to mean that case, " cries the colonel; "andyou are convinced I did not mean it. " "To put an end to this discourse at once, sir, " said the doctor, "Iwas the plaintiff at whose suit this gentleman was arrested. " "Was you so, sir?" cries the colonel; "then I have no more to say. Women and the clergy are upon the same footing. The long-robed gentryare exempted from the laws of honour. " "I do not thank you for that exemption, sir, " cries the doctor; "and, if honour and fighting are, as they seem to be, synonymous words withyou, I believe there are some clergymen, who in defence of theirreligion, or their country, or their friend, the only justifiablecauses of fighting, except bare self-defence, would fight as bravelyas yourself, colonel! and that without being paid for it. " "Sir, you are privileged, " says the colonel, with great dignity; "andyou have my leave to say what you please. I respect your order, andyou cannot offend me. " "I will not offend you, colonel, "cries the doctor; "and our order isvery much obliged to you, since you profess so much respect to us, andpay none to our Master. " "What Master, sir?" said the colonel. "That Master, " answered the doctor, "who hath expressly forbidden allthat cutting of throats to which you discover so much inclination. " "O! your servant, sir, " said the colonel; "I see what you are drivingat; but you shall not persuade me to think that religion forces me tobe a coward. " "I detest and despise the name as much as you can, " cries the doctor;"but you have a wrong idea of the word, colonel. What were all theGreeks and Romans? were these cowards? and yet, did you ever hear ofthis butchery, which we call duelling, among them?" "Yes, indeed, have I, " cries the colonel. "What else is all Mr. Pope'sHomer full of but duels? Did not what's his name, one of theAgamemnons, fight with that paultry rascal Paris? and Diomede withwhat d'ye call him there? and Hector with I forget his name, he thatwas Achilles's bosom-friend; and afterwards with Achilles himself?Nay, and in Dryden's Virgil, is there anything almost besidesfighting?" "You are a man of learning, colonel, " cries the doctor; "but--" "I thank you for that compliment, " said the colonel. --"No, sir, I donot pretend to learning; but I have some little reading, and I am notashamed to own it. " "But are you sure, colonel, " cries the doctor, "that you have not madea small mistake? for I am apt to believe both Mr. Pope and Mr. Dryden(though I cannot say I ever read a word of either of them) speak ofwars between nations, and not of private duels; for of the latter I donot remember one single instance in all the Greek and Roman story. Inshort, it is a modern custom, introduced by barbarous nations sincethe times of Christianity; though it is a direct and audaciousdefiance of the Christian law, and is consequently much more sinful inus than it would have been in the heathens. " "Drink about, doctor, " cries the colonel; "and let us call a newcause; for I perceive we shall never agree on this. You are aChurchman, and I don't expect you to speak your mind. " "We are both of the same Church, I hope, " cries the doctor. "I am of the Church of England, sir, " answered the colonel, "and willfight for it to the last drop of my blood. " "It is very generous in you, colonel, " cries the doctor, "to fight sozealously for a religion by which you are to be damned. " "It is well for you, doctor, " cries the colonel, "that you wear agown; for, by all the dignity of a man, if any other person had saidthe words you have just uttered, I would have made him eat them; ay, d--n me, and my sword into the bargain. " Booth began to be apprehensive that this dispute might grow too warm;in which case he feared that the colonel's honour, together with thechampagne, might hurry him so far as to forget the respect due, andwhich he professed to pay, to the sacerdotal robe. Booth thereforeinterposed between the disputants, and said that the colonel had veryrightly proposed to call a new subject; for that it was impossible toreconcile accepting a challenge with the Christian religion, orrefusing it with the modern notion of honour. "And you must allow it, doctor, " said he, "to be a very hard injunction for a man to becomeinfamous; and more especially for a soldier, who is to lose his breadinto the bargain. " "Ay, sir, " says the colonel, with an air of triumph, "what say you tothat?" "Why, I say, " cries the doctor, "that it is much harder to be damnedon the other side. " "That may be, " said the colonel; "but damn me, if I would take anaffront of any man breathing, for all that. And yet I believe myselfto be as good a Christian as wears a head. My maxim is, never to givean affront, nor ever to take one; and I say that it is the maxim of agood Christian, and no man shall ever persuade me to the contrary. " "Well, sir, " said the doctor, "since that is your resolution, I hopeno man will ever give you an affront. " "I am obliged to you for your hope, doctor, " cries the colonel, with asneer; "and he that doth will be obliged to you for lending him yourgown; for, by the dignity of a man, nothing out of petticoats, Ibelieve, dares affront me. " Colonel James had not hitherto joined in the discourse. In truth, histhoughts had been otherwise employed; nor is it very difficult for thereader to guess what had been the subject of them. Being waked, however, from his reverie, and having heard the two or three lastspeeches, he turned to his brother, and asked him, why he wouldintroduce such a topic of conversation before a gentleman of DoctorHarrison's character? "Brother, " cried Bath, "I own it was wrong, and I ask the doctor'spardon: I know not how it happened to arise; for you know, brother, Iam not used to talk of these matters. They are generally poltroonsthat do. I think I need not be beholden to my tongue to declare I amnone. I have shown myself in a line of battle. I believe there is noman will deny that; I believe I may say no man dares deny that I havedone my duty. " The colonel was thus proceeding to prove that his prowess was neitherthe subject of his discourse nor the object of his vanity, when aservant entered and summoned the company to tea with the ladies; asummons which Colonel James instantly obeyed, and was followed by allthe rest. But as the tea-table conversation, though extremely delightful tothose who are engaged in it, may probably appear somewhat dull to thereader, we will here put an end to the chapter. Chapter iv. _A dialogue between Booth and Amelia_. The next morning early, Booth went by appointment and waited onColonel James; whence he returned to Amelia in that kind ofdisposition which the great master of human passion would describe inAndromache, when he tells us she cried and smiled at the same instant. Amelia plainly perceived the discomposure of his mind, in which theopposite affections of joy and grief were struggling for thesuperiority, and begged to know the occasion; upon which Booth spokeas follows:-- "My dear, " said he, "I had no intention to conceal from you what hathpast this morning between me and the colonel, who hath oppressed me, if I may use that expression, with obligations. Sure never man hadsuch a friend; for never was there so noble, so generous a heart--Icannot help this ebullition of gratitude, I really cannot. " Here hepaused a moment, and wiped his eyes, and then proceeded: "You know, mydear, how gloomy the prospect was yesterday before our eyes, howinevitable ruin stared me in the face; and the dreadful idea of havingentailed beggary on my Amelia and her posterity racked my mind; forthough, by the goodness of the doctor, I had regained my liberty, thedebt yet remained; and, if that worthy man had a design of forgivingme his share, this must have been my utmost hope, and the condition inwhich I must still have found myself need not to be expatiated on. Inwhat light, then, shall I see, in what words shall I relate, thecolonel's kindness? O my dear Amelia! he hath removed the whole gloomat once, hath driven all despair out of my mind, and hath filled itwith the most sanguine, and, at the same time, the most reasonablehopes of making a comfortable provision for yourself and my dearchildren. In the first place, then, he will advance me a sum of moneyto pay off all my debts; and this on a bond to be repaid only when Ishall become colonel of a regiment, and not before. In the next place, he is gone this very morning to ask a company for me, which is nowvacant in the West Indies; and, as he intends to push this with allhis interest, neither he nor I have any doubt of his success. Now, mydear, comes the third, which, though perhaps it ought to give me thegreatest joy, such is, I own, the weakness of my nature, it rends myvery heartstrings asunder. I cannot mention it, for I know it willgive you equal pain; though I know, on all proper occasions, you canexert a manly resolution. You will not, I am convinced, oppose it, whatever you must suffer in complying. O my dear Amelia! I must sufferlikewise; yet I have resolved to bear it. You know not what my poorheart hath suffered since he made the proposal. It is love for youalone which could persuade me to submit to it. Consider our situation;consider that of our children; reflect but on those poor babes, whosefuture happiness is at stake, and it must arm your resolution. It isyour interest and theirs that reconciled me to a proposal which, whenthe colonel first made it, struck me with the utmost horror; he hath, indeed, from these motives, persuaded me into a resolution which Ithought impossible for any one to have persuaded me into. O my dearAmelia! let me entreat you to give me up to the good of your children, as I have promised the colonel to give you up to their interest andyour own. If you refuse these terms we are still undone, for heinsists absolutely upon them. Think, then, my love, however hard theymay be, necessity compels us to submit to them. I know in what light awoman, who loves like you, must consider such a proposal; and yet howmany instances have you of women who, from the same motives, havesubmitted to the same!" "What can you mean, Mr. Booth?" cries Amelia, trembling. "Need I explain my meaning to you more?" answered Booth. --"Did I notsay I must give up my Amelia?" "Give me up!" said she. "For a time only, I mean, " answered he: "for a short time perhaps. Thecolonel himself will take care it shall not be long--for I know hisheart; I shall scarce have more joy in receiving you back than he willhave in restoring you to my arms. In the mean time, he will not onlybe a father to my children, but a husband to you. " "A husband to me!" said Amelia. "Yes, my dear; a kind, a fond, a tender, an affectionate husband. If Ihad not the most certain assurances of this, doth my Amelia think Icould be prevailed on to leave her? No, my Amelia, he is the only manon earth who could have prevailed on me; but I know his house, hispurse, his protection, will be all at your command. And as for anydislike you have conceived to his wife, let not that be any objection;for I am convinced he will not suffer her to insult you; besides, sheis extremely well bred, and, how much soever she may hate you in herheart, she will at least treat you with civility. "Nay, the invitation is not his, but hers; and I am convinced theywill both behave to you with the greatest friendship; his I am surewill be sincere, as to the wife of a friend entrusted to his care; andhers will, from good-breeding, have not only the appearances but theeffects of the truest friendship. " "I understand you, my dear, at last, " said she (indeed she had rambledinto very strange conceits from some parts of his discourse); "and Iwill give you my resolution in a word--I will do the duty of a wife, and that is, to attend her husband wherever he goes. " Booth attempted to reason with her, but all to no purpose. She gave, indeed, a quiet hearing to all he said, and even to those parts whichmost displeased her ears; I mean those in which he exaggerated thegreat goodness and disinterested generosity of his friend; but herresolution remained inflexible, and resisted the force of all hisarguments with a steadiness of opposition, which it would have beenalmost excusable in him to have construed into stubbornness. The doctor arrived in the midst of the dispute; and, having heard themerits of the cause on both sides, delivered his opinion in thefollowing words. "I have always thought it, my dear children, a matter of the utmostnicety to interfere in any differences between husband and wife; but, since you both desire me with such earnestness to give you mysentiments on the present contest between you, I will give you mythoughts as well as I am able. In the first place then, can anythingbe more reasonable than for a wife to desire to attend her husband? Itis, as my favourite child observes, no more than a desire to do herduty; and I make no doubt but that is one great reason of herinsisting on it. And how can you yourself oppose it? Can love be itsown enemy? or can a husband who is fond of his wife, content himselfalmost on any account with a long absence from her?" "You speak like an angel, my dear Doctor Harrison, " answered Amelia:"I am sure, if he loved as tenderly as I do, he could on no accountsubmit to it. " "Pardon me, child, " cries the doctor; "there are some reasons whichwould not only justify his leaving you, but which must force him, ifhe hath any real love for you, joined with common sense, to make thatelection. If it was necessary, for instance, either to your good or tothe good of your children, he would not deserve the name of a man, Iam sure not that of a husband, if he hesitated a moment. Nay, in thatcase, I am convinced you yourself would be an advocate for what younow oppose. I fancy therefore I mistook him when I apprehended he saidthat the colonel made his leaving you behind as the condition ofgetting him the commission; for I know my dear child hath too muchgoodness, and too much sense, and too much resolution, to prefer anytemporary indulgence of her own passions to the solid advantages ofher whole family. " "There, my dear!" cries Booth; "I knew what opinion the doctor wouldbe of. Nay, I am certain there is not a wise man in the kingdom whowould say otherwise. " "Don't abuse me, young gentleman, " said the doctor, "with appellationsI don't deserve. " "I abuse you, my dear doctor!" cries Booth. "Yes, my dear sir, " answered the doctor; "you insinuated slily that Iwas wise, which, as the world understands the phrase, I should beashamed of; and my comfort is that no one can accuse me justly of it. I have just given an instance of the contrary by throwing away myadvice. " "I hope, sir, " cries Booth, "that will not be the case. " "Yes, sir, " answered the doctor. "I know it will be the case in thepresent instance, for either you will not go at all, or my littleturtle here will go with you. " "You are in the right, doctor, " cries Amelia. "I am sorry for it, " said the doctor, "for then I assure you you arein the wrong. " "Indeed, " cries Amelia, "if you knew all my reasons you would say theywere very strong ones. " "Very probably, " cries the doctor. "The knowledge that they are in thewrong is a very strong reason to some women to continue so. " "Nay, doctor, " cries Amelia, "you shall never persuade me of that. Iwill not believe that any human being ever did an action merelybecause they knew it to be wrong. " "I am obliged to you, my dear child, " said the doctor, "for declaringyour resolution of not being persuaded. Your husband would never callme a wise man again if, after that declaration, I should attempt topersuade you. " "Well, I must be content, " cries Amelia, "to let you think as youplease. " "That is very gracious, indeed, " said the doctor. "Surely, in acountry where the church suffers others to think as they please, itwould be very hard if they had not themselves the same liberty. Andyet, as unreasonable as the power of controuling men's thoughts isrepresented, I will shew you how you shall controul mine whenever youdesire it. " "How, pray?" cries Amelia. "I should greatly esteem that power. " "Why, whenever you act like a wise woman, " cries the doctor, "you willforce me to think you so: and, whenever you are pleased to act as youdo now, I shall be obliged, whether I will or no, to think as I donow. " "Nay, dear doctor, " cries Booth, "I am convinced my Amelia will neverdo anything to forfeit your good opinion. Consider but the cruelhardship of what she is to undergo, and you will make allowances forthe difficulty she makes in complying. To say the truth, when Iexamine my own heart, I have more obligations to her than appear atfirst sight; for, by obliging me to find arguments to persuade her, she hath assisted me in conquering myself. Indeed, if she had shewnmore resolution, I should have shewn less. " "So you think it necessary, then, " said the doctor, "that there shouldbe one fool at least in every married couple. A mighty resolution, truly! and well worth your valuing yourself upon, to part with yourwife for a few months in order to make the fortune of her and yourchildren; when you are to leave her, too, in the care and protectionof a friend that gives credit to the old stories of friendship, anddoth an honour to human nature. What, in the name of goodness! doeither of you think that you have made an union to endure for ever?How will either of you bear that separation which must, some time orother, and perhaps very soon, be the lot of one of you? Have youforgot that you are both mortal? As for Christianity, I see you haveresigned all pretensions to it; for I make no doubt but that you haveso set your hearts on the happiness you enjoy here together, thatneither of you ever think a word of hereafter. " Amelia now burst into tears; upon which Booth begged the doctor toproceed no farther. Indeed, he would not have wanted the caution; for, however blunt he appeared in his discourse, he had a tenderness ofheart which is rarely found among men; for which I know no otherreason than that true goodness is rarely found among them; for I amfirmly persuaded that the latter never possessed any human mind in anydegree, without being attended by as large a portion of the former. Thus ended the conversation on this subject; what followed is notworth relating, till the doctor carried off Booth with him to take awalk in the Park. Chapter v. _A conversation between Amelia and Dr Harrison, with the result_. Amelia, being left alone, began to consider seriously of hercondition; she saw it would be very difficult to resist theimportunities of her husband, backed by the authority of the doctor, especially as she well knew how unreasonable her declarations mustappear to every one who was ignorant of her real motives to perseverein it. On the other hand, she was fully determined, whatever might bethe consequence, to adhere firmly to her resolution of not acceptingthe colonel's invitation. When she had turned the matter every way in her mind, and vexed andtormented herself with much uneasy reflexion upon it, a thought atlast occurred to her which immediately brought her some comfort. Thiswas, to make a confidant of the doctor, and to impart to him the wholetruth. This method, indeed, appeared to her now to be so adviseable, that she wondered she had not hit upon it sooner; but it is the natureof despair to blind us to all the means of safety, however easy andapparent they may be. Having fixed her purpose in her mind, she wrote a short note to thedoctor, in which she acquainted him that she had something of greatmoment to impart to him, which must be an entire secret from herhusband, and begged that she might have an opportunity ofcommunicating it as soon as possible. Doctor Harrison received the letter that afternoon, and immediatelycomplied with Amelia's request in visiting her. He found her drinkingtea with her husband and Mrs. Atkinson, and sat down and joined thecompany. Soon after the removal of the tea-table Mrs. Atkinson left the room. The doctor then, turning to Booth, said, "I hope, captain, you have atrue sense of the obedience due to the church, though our clergy donot often exact it. However, it is proper to exercise our powersometimes, in order to remind the laity of their duty. I must tellyou, therefore, that I have some private business with your wife; andI expect your immediate absence. " "Upon my word, doctor, " answered Booth, "no Popish confessor, I firmlybelieve, ever pronounced his will and pleasure with more gravity anddignity; none therefore was ever more immediately obeyed than youshall be. " Booth then quitted the room, and desired the doctor torecall him when his business with the lady was over. Doctor Harrison promised he would; and then turning to Amelia he said, "Thus far, madam, I have obeyed your commands, and am now ready toreceive the important secret which you mention in your note. " Amelianow informed her friend of all she knew, all she had seen and heard, and all that she suspected, of the colonel. The good man seemedgreatly shocked at the relation, and remained in a silentastonishment. Upon which Amelia said, "Is villany so rare a thing, sir, that it should so much surprize you?" "No, child, " cries he; "butI am shocked at seeing it so artfully disguised under the appearanceof so much virtue; and, to confess the truth, I believe my own vanityis a little hurt in having been so grossly imposed upon. Indeed, I hada very high regard for this man; for, besides the great charactergiven him by your husband, and the many facts I have heard so muchredounding to his honour, he hath the fairest and most promisingappearance I have ever yet beheld. A good face, they say, is a letterof recommendation. O Nature, Nature, why art thou so dishonest as everto send men with these false recommendations into the world?" "Indeed, my dear sir, I begin to grow entirely sick of it, " criesAmelia, "for sure all mankind almost are villains in their hearts. " "Fie, child!" cries the doctor. "Do not make a conclusion so much tothe dishonour of the great Creator. The nature of man is far frombeing in itself evil: it abounds with benevolence, charity, and pity, coveting praise and honour, and shunning shame and disgrace. Badeducation, bad habits, and bad customs, debauch our nature, and driveit headlong as it were into vice. The governors of the world, and I amafraid the priesthood, are answerable for the badness of it. Insteadof discouraging wickedness to the utmost of their power, both are tooapt to connive at it. In the great sin of adultery, for instance; haththe government provided any law to punish it? or doth the priest takeany care to correct it? on the contrary, is the most notoriouspractice of it any detriment to a man's fortune or to his reputationin the world? doth it exclude him from any preferment in the state, Ihad almost said in the church? is it any blot in his escutcheon? anybar to his honour? is he not to be found every day in the assembliesof women of the highest quality? in the closets of the greatest men, and even at the tables of bishops? What wonder then if the communityin general treat this monstrous crime as a matter of jest, and thatmen give way to the temptations of a violent appetite, when theindulgence of it is protected by law and countenanced by custom? I amconvinced there are good stamina in the nature of this very man; forhe hath done acts of friendship and generosity to your husband beforehe could have any evil design on your chastity; and in a Christiansociety, which I no more esteem this nation to be than I do any partof Turkey, I doubt not but this very colonel would have made a worthyand valuable member. " "Indeed, my dear sir, " cries Amelia, "you are the wisest as well asbest man in the world--" "Not a word of my wisdom, " cries the doctor. "I have not a grain--I amnot the least versed in the Chrematistic [Footnote: The art of gettingwealth is so called by Aristotle in his Politics. ] art, as an oldfriend of mine calls it. I know not how to get a shilling, nor how tokeep it in my pocket if I had it. " "But you understand human nature to the bottom, " answered Amelia; "andyour mind is the treasury of all ancient and modern learning. " "You are a little flatterer, " cries the doctor; "but I dislike you notfor it. And, to shew you I don't, I will return your flattery, andtell you you have acted with great prudence in concealing this affairfrom your husband; but you have drawn me into a scrape; for I havepromised to dine with this fellow again to-morrow, and you have madeit impossible for me to keep my word. " "Nay, but, dear sir, " cries Amelia, "for Heaven's sake take care! Ifyou shew any kind of disrespect to the colonel, my husband may be ledinto some suspicion--especially after our conference. " "Fear nothing, child. I will give him no hint; and, that I may becertain of not doing it, I will stay away. You do not think, I hope, that I will join in a chearful conversation with such a man; that Iwill so far betray my character as to give any countenance to suchflagitious proceedings. Besides, my promise was only conditional; andI do not know whether I could otherwise have kept it; for I expect anold friend every day who comes to town twenty miles on foot to see me, whom I shall not part with on any account; for, as he is very poor, hemay imagine I treat him with disrespect. " "Well, sir, " cries Amelia, "I must admire you and love you for yourgoodness. " "Must you love me?" cries the doctor. "I could cure you now in aminute if I pleased. " "Indeed, I defy you, sir, " said Amelia. "If I could but persuade you, " answered he, "that I thought you nothandsome, away would vanish all ideas of goodness in an instant. Confess honestly, would they not?" "Perhaps I might blame the goodness of your eyes, " replied Amelia;"and that is perhaps an honester confession than you expected. But do, pray, sir, be serious, and give me your advice what to do. Considerthe difficult game I have to play; for I am sure, after what I havetold you, you would not even suffer me to remain under the roof ofthis colonel. " "No, indeed, would I not, " said the doctor, "whilst I have a house ofmy own to entertain you. " "But how to dissuade my husband, " continued she, "without giving himany suspicion of the real cause, the consequences of his guessing atwhich I tremble to think upon. " "I will consult my pillow upon it, " said the doctor; "and in themorning you shall see me again. In the mean time be comforted, andcompose the perturbations of your mind. " "Well, sir, " said she, "I put my whole trust in you. " "I am sorry to hear it, " cries the doctor. "Your innocence may giveyou a very confident trust in a much more powerful assistance. However, I will do all I can to serve you: and now, if you please, wewill call back your husband; for, upon my word, he hath shewn a goodcatholic patience. And where is the honest serjeant and his wife? I ampleased with the behaviour of you both to that worthy fellow, inopposition to the custom of the world; which, instead of being formedon the precepts of our religion to consider each other as brethren, teaches us to regard those who are a degree below us, either in rankor fortune, as a species of beings of an inferior order in thecreation. " The captain now returned into the room, as did the serjeant and Mrs. Atkinson; and the two couple, with the doctor, spent the eveningtogether in great mirth and festivity; for the doctor was one of thebest companions in the world, and a vein of chearfulness, good humour, and pleasantry, ran through his conversation, with which it wasimpossible to resist being pleased. Chapter vi. _Containing as surprizing an accident as is perhaps recorded inhistory_. Booth had acquainted the serjeant with the great goodness of ColonelJames, and with the chearful prospects which he entertained from it. This Atkinson, behind the curtain, communicated to his wife. Theconclusion which she drew from it need scarce be hinted to the reader. She made, indeed, no scruple of plainly and bluntly telling herhusband that the colonel had a most manifest intention to attack thechastity of Amelia. This thought gave the poor serjeant great uneasiness, and, afterhaving kept him long awake, tormented him in his sleep with a mosthorrid dream, in which he imagined that he saw the colonel standing bythe bedside of Amelia, with a naked sword in his hand, and threateningto stab her instantly unless she complied with his desires. Upon thisthe serjeant started up in his bed, and, catching his wife by thethroat, cried out, "D--n you, put up your sword this instant, andleave the room, or by Heaven I'll drive mine to your heart's blood!" This rough treatment immediately roused Mrs. Atkinson from her sleep, who no sooner perceived the position of her husband, and felt his handgrasping her throat, than she gave a violent shriek and presently fellinto a fit. Atkinson now waked likewise, and soon became sensible of the violentagitations of his wife. He immediately leapt out of bed, and runningfor a bottle of water, began to sprinkle her very plentifully; but allto no purpose: she neither spoke nor gave any symptoms of recoveryAtkinson then began to roar aloud; upon which Booth, who lay underhim, jumped from his bed, and ran up with the lighted candle in hishand. The serjeant had no sooner taken the candle than he ran with itto the bed-side. Here he beheld a sight which almost deprived him ofhis senses. The bed appeared to be all over blood, and his wifeweltering in the midst of it. Upon this the serjeant, almost in afrenzy, cried out, "O Heavens! I have killed my wife. I have stabbedher! I have stabbed her!" "What can be the meaning of all this?" saidBooth. "O, sir!" cries the serjeant, "I dreamt I was rescuing yourlady from the hands of Colonel James, and I have killed my poorwife. "--Here he threw himself upon the bed by her, caught her in hisarms, and behaved like one frantic with despair. By this time Amelia had thrown on a wrapping-gown, and was come upinto the room, where the serjeant and his wife were lying on the bedand Booth standing like a motionless statue by the bed-side. Ameliahad some difficulty to conquer the effects of her own surprize on thisoccasion; for a more ghastly and horrible sight than the bed presentedcould not be conceived. Amelia sent Booth to call up the maid of the house, in order to lendher assistance; but before his return Mrs. Atkinson began to come toherself; and soon after, to the inexpressible joy of the serjeant, itwas discovered she had no wound. Indeed, the delicate nose of Ameliasoon made that discovery, which the grosser smell of the serjeant, andperhaps his fright, had prevented him from making; for now it appearedthat the red liquor with which the bed was stained, though it may, perhaps, sometimes run through the veins of a fine lady, was not whatis properly called blood, but was, indeed, no other than cherry-brandy, a bottle of which Mrs. Atkinson always kept in her room to beready for immediate use, and to which she used to apply for comfort inall her afflictions. This the poor serjeant, in his extreme hurry, hadmistaken for a bottle of water. Matters were now soon accommodated, and no other mischief appeared to be done, unless to the bed-cloaths. Amelia and Booth returned back to their room, and Mrs. Atkinson rosefrom her bed in order to equip it with a pair of clean sheets. And thus this adventure would have ended without producing any kind ofconsequence, had not the words which the serjeant uttered in hisfrenzy made some slight impression on Booth; so much, at least, as toawaken his curiosity; so that in the morning when he arose he sent forthe serjeant, and desired to hear the particulars of this dream, sinceAmelia was concerned in it. The serjeant at first seemed unwilling to comply, and endeavoured tomake excuses. This, perhaps, encreased Booth's curiosity, and he said, "Nay, I am resolved to hear it. Why, you simpleton, do you imagine meweak enough to be affected by a dream, however terrible it may be?" "Nay, sir, " cries the serjeant, "as for that matter, dreams havesometimes fallen out to be true. One of my own, I know, did so, concerning your honour; for, when you courted my young lady, I dreamtyou was married to her; and yet it was at a time when neither Imyself, nor any of the country, thought you would ever obtain her. ButHeaven forbid this dream should ever come to pass!" "Why, what wasthis dream?" cries Booth. "I insist on knowing. " "To be sure, sir, " cries the serjeant, "I must not refuse you; but Ihope you will never think any more of it. Why then, sir, I dreamt thatyour honour was gone to the West Indies, and had left my lady in thecare of Colonel James; and last night I dreamt the colonel came to mylady's bed-side, offering to ravish her, and with a drawn sword in hishand, threatening to stab her that moment unless she would comply withhis desires. How I came to be by I know not; but I dreamt I rushedupon him, caught him by the throat, and swore I would put him to deathunless he instantly left the room. Here I waked, and this was mydream. I never paid any regard to a dream in my life--but, indeed, Inever dreamt anything so very plain as this. It appeared downrightreality. I am sure I have left the marks of my fingers in my wife'sthroat. I would riot have taken a hundred pound to have used her so. " "Faith, " cries Booth, "it was an odd dream, and not so easily to beaccounted for as that you had formerly of my marriage; for, asShakespear says, dreams denote a foregone conclusion. Now it isimpossible you should ever have thought of any such matter as this. " "However, sir, " cries the serjeant, "it is in your honour's power toprevent any possibility of this dream's coming to pass, by not leavingmy lady to the care of the colonel; if you must go from her, certainlythere are other places where she may be with great safety; and, sincemy wife tells me that my lady is so very unwilling, whatever reasonsshe may have, I hope your honour will oblige her. " "Now I recollect it, " cries Booth, "Mrs. Atkinson hath once or twicedropt some disrespectful words of the colonel. He hath done somethingto disoblige her. " "He hath indeed, sir, " replied the serjeant: "he hath said that of herwhich she doth not deserve, and for which, if he had not been mysuperior officer, I would have cut both his ears off. Nay, for thatmatter, he can speak ill of other people besides her. " "Do you know, Atkinson, " cries Booth, very gravely, "that you aretalking of the dearest friend I have?" "To be honest then, " answered the serjeant, "I do not think so. If Idid, I should love him much better than I do. " "I must and will have this explained, " cries Booth. "I have too goodan opinion of you, Atkinson, to think you would drop such things asyou have without some reason--and I will know it. " "I am sorry I have dropt a word, " cries Atkinson. "I am sure I did notintend it; and your honour hath drawn it from me unawares. " "Indeed, Atkinson, " cries Booth, "you have made me very uneasy, and Imust be satisfied. " "Then, sir, " said the serjeant, "you shall give me your word ofhonour, or I will be cut into ten thousand pieces before I willmention another syllable. " "What shall I promise?" said Booth. "That you will not resent anything I shall lay to the colonel, "answered Atkinson. "Resent!--Well, I give you my honour, " said Booth. The serjeant made him bind himself over and over again, and thenrelated to him the scene which formerly past between the colonel andhimself, as far as concerned Booth himself; but concealed all thatmore immediately related to Amelia. "Atkinson, " cries Booth, "I cannot be angry with you, for I know youlove me, and I have many obligations to you; but you have done wrongin censuring the colonel for what he said of me. I deserve all that hesaid, and his censures proceeded from his friendship. " "But it was not so kind, sir, " said Atkinson, "to say such things tome who am but a serjeant, and at such a time too. " "I will hear no more, " cries Booth. "Be assured you are the only man Iwould forgive on this occasion; and I forgive you only on conditionyou never speak a word more of this nature. This silly dream hathintoxicated you. " "I have done, sir, " cries the serjeant. "I know my distance, and whomI am to obey; but I have one favour to beg of your honour, never tomention a word of what I have said to my lady; for I know she neverwould forgive me; I know she never would, by what my wife hath toldme. Besides, you need not mention it, sir, to my lady, for she knowsit all already, and a great deal more. " Booth presently parted from the serjeant, having desired him to closehis lips on this occasion, and repaired to his wife, to whom herelated the serjeant's dream. Amelia turned as white as snow, and fell into so violent a tremblingthat Booth plainly perceived her emotion, and immediately partook ofit himself. "Sure, my dear, " said he, staring wildly, "there is morein this than I know. A silly dream could not so discompose you. I begyou, I intreat you to tell me--hath ever Colonel James--" At the very mention of the colonel's name Amelia fell on her knees, and begged her husband not to frighten her. "What do I say, my dear love, " cried Booth, "that can frighten you?" "Nothing, my dear, " said she; "but my spirits are so discomposed withthe dreadful scene I saw last night, that a dream, which at anothertime I should have laughed at, hath shocked me. Do but promise me thatyou will not leave me behind you, and I am easy. " "You may be so, " cries Booth, "for I will never deny you anything. Butmake me easy too. I must know if you have seen anything in ColonelJames to displease you. " "Why should you suspect it?" cries Amelia. "You torment me to death, " cries Booth. "By Heavens! I will know thetruth. Hath he ever said or done anything which you dislike?" "How, my dear, " said Amelia, "can you imagine I should dislike a manwho is so much your friend? Think of all the obligations you have tohim, and then you may easily resolve yourself. Do you think, because Irefuse to stay behind you in his house, that I have any objection tohim? No, my dear, had he done a thousand times more than he hath--washe an angel instead of a man, I would not quit my Billy. There's thesore, my dear--there's the misery, to be left by you. " Booth embraced her with the most passionate raptures, and, looking onher with inexpressible tenderness, cried, "Upon my soul, I am notworthy of you: I am a fool, and yet you cannot blame me. If the stupidmiser hoards, with such care, his worthless treasure--if he watches itwith such anxiety--if every apprehension of another's sharing theleast part fills his soul with such agonies--O Amelia! what must be mycondition, what terrors must I feel, while I am watching over a jewelof such real, such inestimable worth!" "I can, with great truth, return the compliment, " cries Amelia. "Ihave my treasure too; and am so much a miser, that no force shall evertear me from it. " "I am ashamed of my folly, " cries Booth;" and yet it is all fromextreme tenderness. Nay, you yourself are the occasion. Why will youever attempt to keep a secret from me? Do you think I should haveresented to my friend his just censure of my conduct?" "What censure, my dear love?" cries Amelia. "Nay, the serjeant hath told me all, " cries Booth--"nay, and that hehath told it to you. Poor soul! thou couldst not endure to hear meaccused, though never so justly, and by so good a friend. Indeed, mydear, I have discovered the cause of that resentment to the colonelwhich you could not hide from me. I love you, I adore you for it;indeed, I could not forgive a slighting word on you. But, why do Icompare things so unlike?--what the colonel said of me was just andtrue; every reflexion on my Amelia must be false and villanous. " The discernment of Amelia was extremely quick, and she now perceivedwhat had happened, and how much her husband knew of the truth. Sheresolved therefore to humour him, and fell severely on Colonel Jamesfor what he had said to the serjeant, which Booth endeavoured all hecould to soften; and thus ended this affair, which had brought Boothto the very brink of a discovery which must have given him the highesttorment, if it had not produced any of those tragical effects whichAmelia apprehended. Chapter vii. _In which the author appears to be master of that profound learningcalled the knowledge of the town. _ Mrs. James now came to pay a morning's visit to Amelia. She enteredthe room with her usual gaiety, and after a slight preface, addressingherself to Booth, said she had been quarrelling with her husband onhis account. "I know not, " said she, "what he means by thinking ofsending you the Lord knows whither. I have insisted on his askingsomething for you nearer home; and it would be the hardest thing inthe world if he should not obtain it. Are we resolved never toencourage merit; but to throw away all our preferments on those who donot deserve them? What a set of contemptible wretches do we seestrutting about the town in scarlet!" Booth made a very low bow, and modestly spoke in disparagement ofhimself. To which she answered, "Indeed, Mr. Booth, you have merit; Ihave heard it from my brother, who is a judge of those matters, and Iam sure cannot be suspected of flattery. He is your friend as well asmyself, and we will never let Mr. James rest till he hath got you acommission in England. " Booth bowed again, and was offering to speak, but she interrupted him, saying, "I will have no thanks, nor no fine speeches; if I can do youany service I shall think I am only paying the debt of friendship tomy dear Mrs. Booth. " Amelia, who had long since forgot the dislike she had taken to Mrs. James at her first seeing her in town, had attributed it to the rightcause, and had begun to resume her former friendship for her, expressed very warm sentiments of gratitude on this occasion. She toldMrs. James she should be eternally obliged to her if she could succeedin her kind endeavours; for that the thoughts of parting again withher husband had given her the utmost concern. "Indeed, " added she, "Icannot help saying he hath some merit in the service, for he hathreceived two dreadful wounds in it, one of which very greatlyendangered his life; and I am convinced, if his pretensions werebacked with any interest, he would not fail of success. " "They shall be backed with interest, " cries Mrs. James, "if my husbandhath any. He hath no favour to ask for himself, nor for any otherfriend that I know of; and, indeed, to grant a man his just due, oughthardly to be thought a favour. Resume your old gaiety, therefore, mydear Emily. Lord! I remember the time when you was much the gayercreature of the two. But you make an arrant mope of yourself byconfining yourself at home--one never meets you anywhere. Come, youshall go with me to the Lady Betty Castleton's. " "Indeed, you must excuse me, my dear, " answered Amelia, "I do not knowLady Betty. " "Not know Lady Betty! how, is that possible?--but no matter, I willintroduce you. She keeps a morning rout; hardly a rout, indeed; alittle bit of a drum--only four or five tables. Come, take yourcapuchine; you positively shall go. Booth, you shall go with us too. Though you are with your wife, another woman will keep you incountenance. " "La! child, " cries Amelia, "how you rattle!" "I am in spirits, " answered Mrs. James, "this morning; for I won fourrubbers together last night; and betted the things, and won almostevery bet. I am in luck, and we will contrive to be partners--Come. " "Nay, child, you shall not refuse Mrs. James, " said Booth. "I have scarce seen my children to-day, " answered Amelia. "Besides, Imortally detest cards. " "Detest cards!" cries Mrs. James. "How can you be so stupid? I wouldnot live a day without them--nay, indeed, I do not believe I should beable to exist. Is there so delightful a sight in the world as the fourhonours in one's own hand, unless it be three natural aces at bragg?--And you really hate cards?" "Upon reflexion, " cries Amelia, "I have sometimes had great pleasurein them--in seeing my children build houses with them. My little boyis so dexterous that he will sometimes build up the whole pack. " "Indeed, Booth, " cries Mrs. James, "this good woman of yours isstrangely altered since I knew her first; but she will always be agood creature. " "Upon my word, my dear, " cries Amelia, "you are altered too verygreatly; but I doubt not to live to see you alter again, when you cometo have as many children as I have. " "Children!" cries Mrs. James; "you make me shudder. How can you envyme the only circumstance which makes matrimony comfortable?" "Indeed, my dear, " said Amelia, "you injure me; for I envy no woman'shappiness in marriage. " At these words such looks past between Boothand his wife as, to a sensible by-stander, would have made all theairs of Mrs. James appear in the highest degree contemptible, andwould have rendered herself the object of compassion. Nor could thatlady avoid looking a little silly on the occasion. Amelia now, at the earnest desire of her husband, accoutred herself toattend her friend; but first she insisted on visiting her children, towhom she gave several hearty kisses, and then, recommending them tothe care of Mrs. Atkinson, she and her husband accompanied Mrs. Jamesto the rout; where few of my fine readers will be displeased to makepart of the company. The two ladies and Booth then entered an apartment beset with card-tables, like the rooms at Bath and Tunbridge. Mrs. James immediatelyintroduced her friends to Lady Betty, who received them very civily, and presently engaged Booth and Mrs. James in a party at whist; for, as to Amelia, she so much declined playing, that as the party could befilled without her, she was permitted to sit by. And now, who should make his appearance but the noble peer of whom somuch honourable mention hath already been made in this history? Hewalked directly up to Amelia, and addressed her with as perfect aconfidence as if he had not been in the least conscious of having inany manner displeased her; though the reader will hardly suppose thatMrs. Ellison had kept anything a secret from him. Amelia was not, however, so forgetful. She made him a very distantcourtesy, would scarce vouchsafe an answer to anything he said, andtook the first opportunity of shifting her chair and retiring fromhim. Her behaviour, indeed, was such that the peer plainly perceived thathe should get no advantage by pursuing her any farther at present. Instead, therefore, of attempting to follow her, he turned on his heeland addressed his discourse to another lady, though he could not avoidoften casting his eyes towards Amelia as long as she remained in theroom. Fortune, which seems to have been generally no great friend to Mr. Booth, gave him no extraordinary marks of her favour at play. He losttwo full rubbers, which cost him five guineas; after which, Amelia, who was uneasy at his lordship's presence, begged him in a whisper toreturn home; with which request he directly complied. Nothing, I think, remarkable happened to Booth, unless the renewal ofhis acquaintance with an officer whom he had known abroad, and whomade one of his party at the whist-table. The name of this gentleman, with whom the reader will hereafter bebetter acquainted, was Trent. He had formerly been in the sameregiment with Booth, and there was some intimacy between them. CaptainTrent exprest great delight in meeting his brother officer, and bothmutually promised to visit each other. The scenes which had past the preceding night and that morning had soconfused Amelia's thoughts, that, in the hurry in which she wascarried off by Mrs. James, she had entirely forgot her appointmentwith Dr Harrison. When she was informed at her return home that thedoctor had been to wait upon her, and had expressed some anger at herbeing gone out, she became greatly uneasy, and begged of her husbandto go to the doctor's lodgings and make her apology. But lest the reader should be as angry with the doctor as he haddeclared himself with Amelia, we think proper to explain the matter. Nothing then was farther from the doctor's mind than the conception ofany anger towards Amelia. On the contrary, when the girl answered himthat her mistress was not at home, the doctor said with great goodhumour, "How! not at home! then tell your mistress she is a giddyvagabond, and I will come to see her no more till she sends for me. "This the poor girl, from misunderstanding one word, and halfforgetting the rest, had construed into great passion, several verybad words, and a declaration that he would never see Amelia any more. Chapter viii. _In which two strangers make their appearance. _ Booth went to the doctor's lodgings, and found him engaged with hiscountry friend and his son, a young gentleman who was lately inorders; both whom the doctor had left, to keep his appointment withAmelia. After what we mentioned at the end of the last chapter, we need takelittle notice of the apology made by Booth, or the doctor's receptionof it, which was in his peculiar manner. "Your wife, " said he, "is avain hussy to think herself worth my anger; but tell her I have thevanity myself to think I cannot be angry without a better cause. Andyet tell her I intend to punish her for her levity; for, if you goabroad, I have determined to take her down with me into the country, and make her do penance there till you return. " "Dear sir, " said Booth, "I know not how to thank you if you are inearnest. " "I assure you then I am in earnest, " cries the doctor; "but you neednot thank me, however, since you know not how. " "But would not that, sir, " said Booth, "be shewing a slight to thecolonel's invitation? and you know I have so many obligations to him. " "Don't tell me of the colonel, " cries the doctor; "the church is to befirst served. Besides, sir, I have priority of right, even to youyourself. You stole my little lamb from me; for I was her first love. " "Well, sir, " cries Booth, "if I should be so unhappy to leave her toany one, she must herself determine; and, I believe, it will not bedifficult to guess where her choice will fall; for of all men, next toher husband, I believe, none can contend with Dr Harrison in herfavour. " "Since you say so, " cries the doctor, "fetch her hither to dinner withus; for I am at least so good a Christian to love those that love me--I will shew you my daughter, my old friend, for I am really proud ofher--and you may bring my grand-children with you if you please. " Booth made some compliments, and then went on his errand. As soon ashe was gone the old gentleman said to the doctor, "Pray, my goodfriend, what daughter is this of yours? I never so much as heard thatyou was married. " "And what then, " cries the doctor; "did you ever hear that a pope wasmarried? and yet some of them have had sons and daughters, I believe;but, however, this young gentleman will absolve me without obliging meto penance. " "I have not yet that power, " answered the young clergyman; "for I amonly in deacon's orders. " "Are you not?" cries the doctor; "why then I will absolve myself. Youare to know then, my good friend, that this young lady was thedaughter of a neighbour of mine, who is since dead, and whose sins Ihope are forgiven; for she had too much to answer for on her child'saccount. Her father was my intimate acquaintance and friend; aworthier man, indeed, I believe never lived. He died suddenly when hischildren were infants; and, perhaps, to the suddenness of his death itwas owing that he did not recommend any care of them to me. However, I, in some measure, took that charge upon me; and particularly of herwhom I call my daughter. Indeed, as she grew up she discovered so manygood qualities that she wanted not the remembrance of her father'smerit to recommend her. I do her no more than justice when I say sheis one of the best creatures I ever knew. She hath a sweetness oftemper, a generosity of spirit, an openness of heart--in a word, shehath a true Christian disposition. I may call her an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile. " "I wish you joy of your daughter, " cries the old gentleman; "for to aman of your disposition, to find out an adequate object of yourbenevolence, is, I acknowledge, to find a treasure. " "It is, indeed, a happiness, " cries the doctor. "The greatest difficulty, " added the gentleman, "which persons of yourturn of mind meet with, is in finding proper objects of theirgoodness; for nothing sure can be more irksome to a generous mind, than to discover that it hath thrown away all its good offices on asoil that bears no other fruit than ingratitude. " "I remember, " cries the doctor, "Phocylides saith, Mn kakov ev epens opens dpelpelv ioov eot evi povtw[Footnote: To do a kindness to a bad man is like sowing your seed inthe sea. ] But he speaks more like a philosopher than a Christian. I am morepleased with a French writer, one of the best, indeed, that I everread, who blames men for lamenting the ill return which is so oftenmade to the best offices. [Footnote: D'Esprit. ] A true Christian cannever be disappointed if he doth not receive his reward in this world;the labourer might as well complain that he is not paid his hire inthe middle of the day. " "I own, indeed, " said the gentleman, "if we see it in that light--" "And in what light should we see it?" answered the doctor. "Are welike Agrippa, only almost Christians? or, is Christianity a matter ofbare theory, and not a rule for our practice?" "Practical, undoubtedly; undoubtedly practical, " cries the gentleman. "Your example might indeed have convinced me long ago that we ought todo good to every one. " "Pardon me, father, " cries the young divine, "that is rather aheathenish than a Christian doctrine. Homer, I remember, introduces inhis Iliad one Axylus, of whom he says-- --Hidvos o'nv avopwpoloi pavras yap tyeeokev[Footnote: He was a friend to mankind, for he loved them all. ] But Plato, who, of all the heathens, came nearest to the Christianphilosophy, condemned this as impious doctrine; so Eustathius tellsus, folio 474. " "I know he doth, " cries the doctor, "and so Barnes tells us, in hisnote upon the place; but if you remember the rest of the quotation aswell as you do that from Eustathius, you might have added theobservation which Mr. Dryden makes in favour of this passage, that hefound not in all the Latin authors, so admirable an instance ofextensive humanity. You might have likewise remembered the noblesentiment with which Mr. Barnes ends his note, the sense of which istaken from the fifth chapter of Matthew:-- [Greek verse] "It seems, therefore, as if this character rather became a Christianthan a heathen, for Homer could not have transcribed it from any ofhis deities. Whom is it, therefore, we imitate by such extensivebenevolence?" "What a prodigious memory you have!" cries the old gentleman: "indeed, son, you must not contend with the doctor in these matters. " "I shall not give my opinion hastily, " cries the son. "I know, again, what Mr. Poole, in his annotations, says on that verse of St Matthew--That it is only to _heap coals of fire upon their heads_. How arewe to understand, pray, the text immediately preceding?--_Love yourenemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you_. " "You know, I suppose, young gentleman, " said the doctor, "how thesewords are generally understood. The commentator you mention, I think, tells us that love is not here to be taken in the strict sense, so asto signify the complacency of the heart; you may hate your enemies asGod's enemies, and seek due revenge of them for his honour; and, foryour own sakes too, you may seek moderate satisfaction of them; butthen you are to love them with a love consistent with these things;that is to say, in plainer words, you are to love them and hate them, and bless and curse, and do them good and mischief. " "Excellent! admirable!" said the old gentleman; "you have a mostinimitable turn to ridicule. " "I do not approve ridicule, " said the son, "on such subjects. " "Nor I neither, " cries the doctor; "I will give you my opinion, therefore, very seriously. The two verses taken together, contain avery positive precept, delivered in the plainest words, and yetillustrated by the clearest instance in the conduct of the SupremeBeing; and lastly, the practice of this precept is most nobly enforcedby the reward annexed--_that ye may be the children_, and so forth. Noman who understands what it is to love, and to bless, and to do good, can mistake the meaning. But if they required any comment, theScripture itself affords enow. _If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if hethirst, give him drink; not rendering evil for evil, or railing forrailing, but contrariwise, blessing. _ They do not, indeed, want thecomments of men, who, when they cannot bend their mind to theobedience of Scripture, are desirous to wrest Scripture to acompliance with their own inclinations. " "Most nobly and justly observed, " cries the old gentleman. "Indeed, mygood friend, you have explained the text with the utmost perspicuity. " "But if this be the meaning, " cries the son, "there must be an end ofall law and justice, for I do not see how any man can prosecute hisenemy in a court of justice. " "Pardon me, sir, " cries the doctor. "Indeed, as an enemy merely, andfrom a spirit of revenge, he cannot, and he ought not to prosecutehim; but as an offender against the laws of his country he may, and itis his duty so to do. Is there any spirit of revenge in themagistrates or officers of justice when they punish criminals? Why dosuch, ordinarily I mean, concern themselves in inflicting punishments, but because it is their duty? and why may not a private man deliver anoffender into the hands of justice, from the same laudable motive?Revenge, indeed, of all kinds is strictly prohibited; wherefore, as weare not to execute it with our own hands, so neither are we to makeuse of the law as the instrument of private malice, and to worry eachother with inveteracy and rancour. And where is the great difficultyin obeying this wise, this generous, this noble precept? If revengebe, as a certain divine, not greatly to his honour, calls it, the mostluscious morsel the devil ever dropt into the mouth of a sinner, itmust be allowed at least to cost us often extremely dear. It is adainty, if indeed it be one, which we come at with great inquietude, with great difficulty, and with great danger. However pleasant it maybe to the palate while we are feeding on it, it is sure to leave abitter relish behind it; and so far, indeed, it may be called aluscious morsel, that the most greedy appetites are soon glutted, andthe most eager longing for it is soon turned into loathing andrepentance. I allow there is something tempting in its outwardappearance, but it is like the beautiful colour of some poisons, fromwhich, however they may attract our eyes, a regard to our own welfarecommands us to abstain. And this is an abstinence to which wisdomalone, without any Divine command, hath been often found adequate, with instances of which the Greek and Latin authors everywhere abound. May not a Christian, therefore, be well ashamed of making a stumbling-block of a precept, which is not only consistent with his worldlyinterest, but to which so noble an incentive is proposed?" The old gentleman fell into raptures at this speech, and, after makingmany compliments to the doctor upon it, he turned to his son, and toldhim he had an opportunity now of learning more in one day than he hadlearnt at the university in a twelvemonth. The son replied, that he allowed the doctrine to be extremely good ingeneral, and that he agreed with the greater part; "but I must make adistinction, " said he. However, he was interrupted from hisdistinction at present, for now Booth returned with Amelia and thechildren. Chapter ix. _A scene of modern wit and humour. _ In the afternoon the old gentleman proposed a walk to Vauxhall, aplace of which, he said, he had heard much, but had never seen it. The doctor readily agreed to his friend's proposal, and soon afterordered two coaches to be sent for to carry the whole company. Butwhen the servant was gone for them Booth acquainted the doctor that itwas yet too early. "Is it so?" said the doctor; "why, then, I willcarry you first to one of the greatest and highest entertainments inthe world. " The children pricked up their ears at this, nor did any of the companyguess what he meant; and Amelia asked what entertainment he couldcarry them to at that time of day? "Suppose, " says the doctor, "I should carry you to court. " "At five o'clock in the afternoon!" cries Booth. "Ay, suppose I should have interest enough to introduce you into thepresence. " "You are jesting, dear sir, " cries Amelia. "Indeed, I am serious, " answered the doctor. "I will introduce youinto that presence, compared to whom the greatest emperor on the earthis many millions of degrees meaner than the most contemptible reptileis to him. What entertainment can there be to a rational being equalto this? Was not the taste of mankind most wretchedly depraved, wherewould the vain man find an honour, or where would the love of pleasurepropose so adequate an object as divine worship? with what ecstasymust the contemplation of being admitted to such a presence fill themind! The pitiful courts of princes are open to few, and to those onlyat particular seasons; but from this glorious and gracious presence weare none of us, and at no time excluded. " The doctor was proceeding thus when the servant returned, saying thecoaches were ready; and the whole company with the greatest alacrityattended the doctor to St James's church. When the service was ended, and they were again got into theircoaches, Amelia returned the doctor many thanks for the light in whichhe had placed divine worship, assuring him that she had never beforehad so much transport in her devotion as at this time, and saying shebelieved she should be the better for this notion he had given her aslong as she lived. The coaches being come to the water-side, they all alighted, and, getting into one boat, proceeded to Vauxhall. The extreme beauty and elegance of this place is well known to almostevery one of my readers; and happy is it for me that it is so, sinceto give an adequate idea of it would exceed my power of description. To delineate the particular beauties of these gardens would, indeed, require as much pains, and as much paper too, as to rehearse all thegood actions of their master, whose life proves the truth of anobservation which I have read in some ethic writer, that a trulyelegant taste is generally accompanied with an excellency of heart;or, in other words, that true virtue is, indeed, nothing else but truetaste. Here our company diverted themselves with walking an hour or twobefore the music began. Of all the seven, Booth alone had ever beenhere before; so that, to all the rest, the place, with its othercharms, had that of novelty. When the music played, Amelia, who stoodnext to the doctor, said to him in a whisper, "I hope I am not guiltyof profaneness; but, in pursuance of that chearful chain of thoughtswith which you have inspired me this afternoon, I was just now lost ina reverie, and fancied myself in those blissful mansions which we hopeto enjoy hereafter. The delicious sweetness of the place, theenchanting charms of the music, and the satisfaction which appears inevery one's countenance, carried my soul almost to heaven in itsideas. I could not have, indeed, imagined there had been anything likethis in this world. " The doctor smiled, and said, "You see, dear madam, there may bepleasures of which you could conceive no idea till you actuallyenjoyed them. " And now the little boy, who had long withstood the attractions ofseveral cheesecakes that passed to and fro, could contain no longer, but asked his mother to give him one, saying, "I am sure my sisterwould be glad of another, though she is ashamed to ask. " The doctor, overhearing the child, proposed that they should all retire to someplace where they might sit down and refresh themselves; which theyaccordingly did. Amelia now missed her husband; but, as she had threemen in her company, and one of them was the doctor, she concludedherself and her children to be safe, and doubted not but that Boothwould soon find her out. They now sat down, and the doctor very gallantly desired Amelia tocall for what she liked. Upon which the children were supplied withcakes, and some ham and chicken were provided for the rest of thecompany; with which while they were regaling themselves with thehighest satisfaction, two young fellows walking arm-in-arm, came up, and when they came opposite to Amelia they stood still, staring Ameliafull in the face, and one of them cried aloud to the other, "D--n me, my lord, if she is not an angel!"--My lord stood still, staringlikewise at her, without speaking a word; when two others of the samegang came up, and one of them cried, "Come along, Jack, I have seenher before; but she is too well manned already. Three----are enoughfor one woman, or the devil is in it!" "D--n me, " says he that spoke first, and whom they called Jack, "Iwill have a brush at her if she belonged to the whole convocation. "And so saying, he went up to the young clergyman, and cried, "Doctor, sit up a little, if you please, and don't take up more room in a bedthan belongs to you. " At which words he gave the young man a push, andseated himself down directly over against Amelia, and, leaning bothhis elbows on the table, he fixed his eyes on her in a manner withwhich modesty can neither look nor bear to be looked at. Amelia seemed greatly shocked at this treatment; upon which the doctorremoved her within him, and then, facing the gentleman, asked him whathe meant by this rude behaviour?--Upon which my lord stept up andsaid, "Don't be impertinent, old gentleman. Do you think such fellowsas you are to keep, d--n me, such fine wenches, d--n me, toyourselves, d--n me?" "No, no, " cries Jack, "the old gentleman is more reasonable. Here'sthe fellow that eats up the tithe-pig. Don't you see how his mouthwaters at her? Where's your slabbering bib?" For, though the gentlemanhad rightly guessed he was a clergyman, yet he had not any of thoseinsignia on with which it would have been improper to have appearedthere. "Such boys as you, " cries the young clergyman, "ought to be wellwhipped at school, instead of being suffered to become nuisances insociety. " "Boys, sir!" says Jack; "I believe I am as good a man as yourself, Mr. ----, and as good a scholar too. _Bos fur sus quotque sacerdos_. Tellme what's next. D--n me, I'll hold you fifty pounds you don't tell mewhat's next. " "You have him, Jack, " cries my lord. "It is over with him, d--n me! hecan't strike another blow. " "If I had you in a proper place, " cries the clergyman, "you shouldfind I would strike a blow, and a pretty hard one too. " "There, " cries my lord, "there is the meekness of the clergyman--therespoke the wolf in sheep's clothing. D--n me, how big he looks! Youmust be civil to him, faith! or else he will burst with pride. " "Ay, ay, " cries Jack, " let the clergy alone for pride; there's not alord in the kingdom now hath half the pride of that fellow. " "Pray, sir, " cries the doctor, turning to the other, "are you a lord?" "Yes, Mr. ----, " cries he, "I have that honour, indeed. " "And I suppose you have pride too, " said the doctor. "I hope I have, sir, " answered he, "at your service. " "If such a one as you, sir, " cries the doctor, "who are not only ascandal to the title you bear as a lord, but even as a man, canpretend to pride, why will you not allow it to a clergyman? I suppose, sir, by your dress, you are in the army? and, by the ribbon in yourhat, you seem to be proud of that too. How much greater and morehonourable is the service in which that gentleman is enlisted thanyours! Why then should you object to the pride of the clergy, sincethe lowest of the function is in reality every way so much yoursuperior?" "Tida Tidu Tidum, " cries my lord. "However, gentlemen, " cries the doctor, "if you have the leastpretension to that name, I beg you will put an end to your frolic;since you see it gives so much uneasiness to the lady. Nay, I entreatyou for your own sakes, for here is one coming who will talk to you ina very different stile from ours. " "One coming!" cries my lord; "what care I who is coming?" "I suppose it is the devil, " cries Jack; "for here are two of hislivery servants already. " "Let the devil come as soon as he will, " cries my lord; "d--n me if Ihave not a kiss!" Amelia now fell a trembling; and her children, perceiving her fright, both hung on her, and began to cry; when Booth and Captain Trent bothcame up. Booth, seeing his wife disordered, asked eagerly what was the matter?At the same time the lord and his companion, seeing Captain Trent, whom they well knew, said both together, "What, doth this companybelong to you?" When the doctor, with great presence of mind, as hewas apprehensive of some fatal consequence if Booth should know whathad past, said, "So, Mr. Booth, I am glad you are returned; your poorlady here began to be frighted out of her wits. But now you have himagain, " said he to Amelia, "I hope you will be easy. " Amelia, frighted as she was, presently took the hint, and greatly chidher husband for leaving her. But the little boy was not so quick-sighted, and cried, "Indeed, papa, those naughty men there havefrighted my mamma out of her wits. " "How!" cries Booth, a little moved; "frightened! Hath any onefrightened you, my dear?" "No, my love, " answered she, "nothing. I know not what the childmeans. Everything is well now I see you safe. " Trent had been all the while talking aside with the young sparks; andnow, addressing himself to Booth, said, "Here hath been some littlemistake; I believe my lord mistook Mrs. Booth for some other lady. " "It is impossible, " cries my lord, "to know every one. I am sure, if Ihad known the lady to be a woman of fashion, and an acquaintance ofCaptain Trent, I should have said nothing disagreeable to her; but, ifI have, I ask her pardon, and the company's. " "I am in the dark, " cries Booth. "Pray what is all this matter?" "Nothing of any consequence, " cries the doctor, "nor worth yourenquiring into. You hear it was a mistake of the person, and I reallybelieve his lordship that all proceeded from his not knowing to whomthe lady belonged. " "Come, come, " says Trent, "there is nothing in the matter, I assureyou. I will tell you the whole another time. " "Very well; since you say so, " cries Booth, "I am contented. " So endedthe affair, and the two sparks made their congee, and sneaked off. "Now they are gone, " said the young gentleman, "I must say I never sawtwo worse-bred jackanapes, nor fellows that deserved to be kickedmore. If I had had them in another place I would have taught them alittle more respect to the church. " "You took rather a better way, " answered the doctor, "to teach themthat respect. " Booth now desired his friend Trent to sit down with them, and proposedto call for a fresh bottle of wine; but Amelia's spirits were too muchdisconcerted to give her any prospect of pleasure that evening. Shetherefore laid hold of the pretence of her children, for whom she saidthe hour was already too late; with which the doctor agreed. So theypaid their reckoning and departed, leaving to the two rakes thetriumph of having totally dissipated the mirth of this little innocentcompany, who were before enjoying complete satisfaction. Chapter X _A curious conversation between the doctor, the young clergyman, andthe young clergyman's father_. The next morning, when the doctor and his two friends were atbreakfast, the young clergyman, in whose mind the injurious treatmenthe had received the evening before was very deeply impressed, renewedthe conversation on that subject. "It is a scandal, " said he, "to the government, that they do notpreserve more respect to the clergy, by punishing all rudeness to themwith the utmost severity. It was very justly observed of you, sir, "said he to the doctor, " that the lowest clergyman in England is inreal dignity superior to the highest nobleman. What then can be soshocking as to see that gown, which ought to entitle us to theveneration of all we meet, treated with contempt and ridicule? Are wenot, in fact, ambassadors from heaven to the world? and do they not, therefore, in denying us our due respect, deny it in reality to Himthat sent us?" "If that be the case, " says the doctor, "it behoves them to look tothemselves; for He who sent us is able to exact most severe vengeancefor the ill treatment of His ministers. " "Very true, sir, " cries the young one; "and I heartily hope He will;but those punishments are at too great a distance to infuse terrorinto wicked minds. The government ought to interfere with itsimmediate censures. Fines and imprisonments and corporal punishmentsoperate more forcibly on the human mind than all the fears ofdamnation. " "Do you think so?" cries the doctor; "then I am afraid men are verylittle in earnest in those fears. " "Most justly observed, " says the old gentleman. "Indeed, I am afraidthat is too much the case. " "In that, " said the son, "the government is to blame. Are not books ofinfidelity, treating our holy religion as a mere imposture, nay, sometimes as a mere jest, published daily, and spread abroad amongstthe people with perfect impunity?" "You are certainly in the right, " says the doctor; "there is a mostblameable remissness with regard to these matters; but the whole blamedoth not lie there; some little share of the fault is, I am afraid, tobe imputed to the clergy themselves. " "Indeed, sir, " cries the young one, "I did not expect that charge froma gentleman of your cloth. Do the clergy give any encouragement tosuch books? Do they not, on the contrary, cry loudly out against thesuffering them? This is the invidious aspersion of the laity; and Idid not expect to hear it confirmed by one of our own cloth. " "Be not too impatient, young gentleman, " said the doctor. " I do notabsolutely confirm the charge of the laity; it is much too general andtoo severe; but even the laity themselves do not attack them in thatpart to which you have applied your defence. They are not supposedsuch fools as to attack that religion to which they owe their temporalwelfare. They are not taxed with giving any other support toinfidelity than what it draws from the ill examples of their lives; Imean of the lives of some of them. Here too the laity carry theircensures too far; for there are very few or none of the clergy whoselives, if compared with those of the laity, can be called profligate;but such, indeed, is the perfect purity of our religion, such is theinnocence and virtue which it exacts to entitle us to its gloriousrewards and to screen us from its dreadful punishments, that he mustbe a very good man indeed who lives up to it. Thus then these personsargue. This man is educated in a perfect knowledge of religion, islearned in its laws, and is by his profession obliged, in a manner, tohave them always before his eyes. The rewards which it promises to theobedience of these laws are so great, and the punishments threatenedon disobedience so dreadful, that it is impossible but all men mustfearfully fly from the one, and as eagerly pursue the other. If, therefore, such a person lives in direct opposition to, and in aconstant breach of, these laws, the inference is obvious. There is apleasant story in Matthew Paris, which I will tell you as well as Ican remember it. Two young gentlemen, I think they were priests, agreed together that whosoever died first should return and acquainthis friend with the secrets of the other world. One of them died soonafter, and fulfilled his promise. The whole relation he gave is notvery material; but, among other things, he produced one of his hands, which Satan had made use of to write upon, as the moderns do on acard, and had sent his compliments to the priests for the number ofsouls which the wicked examples of their lives daily sent to hell. This story is the more remarkable as it was written by a priest, and agreat favourer of his order. " "Excellent!" cried the old gentleman; "what a memory you have. " "But, sir, " cries the young one, "a clergyman is a man as well asanother; and, if such perfect purity be expected--" "I do not expect it, " cries the doctor; "and I hope it will not beexpected of us. The Scripture itself gives us this hope, where thebest of us are said to fall twenty times a-day. But sure we may notallow the practice of any of those grosser crimes which contaminatethe whole mind. We may expect an obedience to the ten commandments, and an abstinence from such notorious vices as, in the first place, Avarice, which, indeed, can hardly subsist without the breach of morecommandments than one. Indeed, it would be excessive candour toimagine that a man who so visibly sets his whole heart, not only onthis world, but on one of the most worthless things in it (for so ismoney, without regard to its uses), should be, at the same time, laying up his treasure in heaven. Ambition is a second vice of thissort: we are told we cannot serve God and Mammon. I might have appliedthis to avarice; but I chose rather to mention it here. When we see aman sneaking about in courts and levees, and doing the dirty work ofgreat men, from the hopes of preferment, can we believe that a fellowwhom we see to have so many hard task-masters upon earth ever thinksof his Master which is in heaven? Must he not himself think, if everhe reflects at all, that so glorious a Master will disdain and disowna servant who is the dutiful tool of a court-favourite, and employedeither as the pimp of his pleasure, or sometimes, perhaps, made adirty channel to assist in the conveyance of that corruption which isclogging up and destroying the very vitals of his country? "The last vice which I shall mention is Pride. There is not in theuniverse a more ridiculous nor a more contemptible animal than a proudclergyman; a turkey-cock or a jackdaw are objects of veneration whencompared with him. I don't mean, by Pride, that noble dignity of mindto which goodness can only administer an adequate object, whichdelights in the testimony of its own conscience, and could not, without the highest agonies, bear its condemnation. By Pride I meanthat saucy passion which exults in every little eventual pre-eminenceover other men: such are the ordinary gifts of nature, and the paultrypresents of fortune, wit, knowledge, birth, strength, beauty, riches, titles, and rank. That passion which is ever aspiring, like a sillychild, to look over the heads of all about them; which, while itservilely adheres to the great, flies from the poor, as if afraid ofcontamination; devouring greedily every murmur of applause and everylook of admiration; pleased and elated with all kind of respect; andhurt and enflamed with the contempt of the lowest and most despicableof fools, even with such as treated you last night disrespectfully atVauxhall. Can such a mind as this be fixed on things above? Can such aman reflect that he hath the ineffable honour to be employed in theimmediate service of his great Creator? or can he please himself withthe heart-warming hope that his ways are acceptable in the sight ofthat glorious, that incomprehensible Being?" "Hear, child, hear, " cries the old gentleman; "hear, and improve yourunderstanding. Indeed, my good friend, no one retires from you withoutcarrying away some good instructions with him. Learn of the doctor, Tom, and you will be the better man as long as you live. " "Undoubtedly, sir, " answered Tom, "the doctor hath spoken a great dealof excellent truth; and, without a compliment to him, I was always agreat admirer of his sermons, particularly of their oratory. But, _Nee tamen hoc tribuens dederim quoque caetera_. I cannot agree that a clergyman is obliged to put up with an affrontany more than another man, and more especially when it is paid to theorder. " "I am very sorry, young gentleman, " cries the doctor, "that you shouldbe ever liable to be affronted as a clergyman; and I do assure you, ifI had known your disposition formerly, the order should never havebeen affronted through you. " The old gentleman now began to check his son for his opposition to thedoctor, when a servant delivered the latter a note from Amelia, whichhe read immediately to himself, and it contained the following words: "MY DEAR SIR, --Something hath happened since I saw you which gives megreat uneasiness, and I beg the favour of seeing you as soon aspossible to advise with you upon it. I am Your most obliged and dutiful daughter, AMELIA BOOTH. " The doctor's answer was, that he would wait on the lady directly; andthen, turning to his friend, he asked him if he would not take a walkin the Park before dinner. "I must go, " says he, "to the lady who waswith us last night; for I am afraid, by her letter, some bad accidenthath happened to her. Come, young gentleman, I spoke a little toohastily to you just now; but I ask your pardon. Some allowance must bemade to the warmth of your blood. I hope we shall, in time, both thinkalike. " The old gentleman made his friend another compliment; and the youngone declared he hoped he should always think, and act too, with thedignity becoming his cloth. After which the doctor took his leave fora while, and went to Amelia's lodgings. As soon as he was gone the old gentleman fell very severely on hisson. "Tom, " says he, "how can you be such a fool to undo, by yourperverseness, all that I have been doing? Why will you not learn tostudy mankind with the attention which I have employed to thatpurpose? Do you think, if I had affronted this obstinate old fellow asyou do, I should ever have engaged his friendship?" "I cannot help it, sir, " said Tom: "I have not studied six years atthe university to give up my sentiments to every one. It is true, indeed, he put together a set of sounding words; but, in the main, Inever heard any one talk more foolishly. " "What of that?" cries the father; "I never told you he was a wise man, nor did I ever think him so. If he had any understanding, he wouldhave been a bishop long ago, to my certain knowledge. But, indeed, hehath been always a fool in private life; for I question whether he isworth L100 in the world, more than his annual income. He hath givenaway above half his fortune to the Lord knows who. I believe I havehad above L200 of him, first and last; and would you lose such amilch-cow as this for want of a few compliments? Indeed, Tom, thou artas great a simpleton as himself. How do you expect to rise in thechurch if you cannot temporise and give in to the opinions of yoursuperiors?" "I don't know, sir, " cries Tom, "what you mean by my superiors. In onesense, I own, a doctor of divinity is superior to a bachelor of arts, and so far I am ready to allow his superiority; but I understand Greekand Hebrew as well as he, and will maintain my opinion against him, orany other in the schools. " "Tom, " cries the old gentleman, "till thou gettest the better of thyconceit I shall never have any hopes of thee. If thou art wise, thouwilt think every man thy superior of whom thou canst get anything; atleast thou wilt persuade him that thou thinkest so, and that issufficient. Tom, Tom, thou hast no policy in thee. " "What have I been learning these seven years, " answered he, "in theuniversity? However, father, I can account for your opinion. It is thecommon failing of old men to attribute all wisdom to themselves. Nestor did it long ago: but, if you will inquire my character atcollege, I fancy you will not think I want to go to school again. " The father and son then went to take their walk, during which theformer repeated many good lessons of policy to his son, not greatlyperhaps to his edification. In truth, if the old gentleman's fondnesshad not in a great measure blinded him to the imperfections of hisson, he would have soon perceived that he was sowing all hisinstructions in a soil so choaked with self-conceit that it wasutterly impossible they should ever bear any fruit. BOOK X. Chapter i. _To which we will prefix no preface_. The doctor found Amelia alone, for Booth was gone to walk with hisnew-revived acquaintance, Captain Trent, who seemed so pleased withthe renewal of his intercourse with his old brother-officer, that hehad been almost continually with him from the time of their meeting atthe drum. Amelia acquainted the doctor with the purport of her message, asfollows: "I ask your pardon, my dear sir, for troubling you so oftenwith my affairs; but I know your extreme readiness, as well asability, to assist any one with your advice. The fact is, that myhusband hath been presented by Colonel James with two tickets for amasquerade, which is to be in a day or two, and he insists so stronglyon my going with him, that I really do not know how to refuse withoutgiving him some reason; and I am not able to invent any other than thetrue one, which you would not, I am sure, advise me to communicate tohim. Indeed I had a most narrow escape the other day; for I was almostdrawn in inadvertently by a very strange accident, to acquaint himwith the whole matter. " She then related the serjeant's dream, withall the consequences that attended it. The doctor considered a little with himself, and then said, "I amreally, child, puzzled as well as you about this matter. I would by nomeans have you go to the masquerade; I do not indeed like thediversion itself, as I have heard it described to me; not that I amsuch a prude to suspect every woman who goes there of any evilintentions; but it is a pleasure of too loose and disorderly a kindfor the recreation of a sober mind. Indeed, you have still a strongerand more particular objection. I will try myself to reason him out ofit. " "Indeed it is impossible, " answered she; "and therefore I would notset you about it. I never saw him more set on anything. There is aparty, as they call it, made on the occasion; and he tells me myrefusal will disappoint all. " "I really do not know what to advise you, " cries the doctor; "I havetold you I do not approve of these diversions; but yet, as yourhusband is so very desirous, I cannot think there will be any harm ingoing with him. However, I will consider of it, and do all in my powerfor you. " Here Mrs. Atkinson came in, and the discourse on this subject ceased;but soon after Amelia renewed it, saying there was no occasion to keepanything a secret from her friend. They then fell to debating on thesubject, but could not come to any resolution. But Mrs. Atkinson, whowas in an unusual flow of spirits, cried out, "Fear nothing, my dearAmelia, two women surely will be too hard for one man. I think, doctor, it exceeds Virgil: _Una dolo divum si faemina victa duorum est_. " "Very well repeated, indeed!" cries the doctor. "Do you understand allVirgil as well as you seem to do that line?" "I hope I do, sir, " said she, "and Horace too; or else my father threwaway his time to very little purpose in teaching me. " "I ask your pardon, madam, " cries the doctor. "I own it was animpertinent question. " "Not at all, sir, " says she; "and if you are one of those who imaginewomen incapable of learning, I shall not be offended at it. I know thecommon opinion; but _Interdum vulgus rectum videt, est ubi peccat_. " "If I was to profess such an opinion, madam, " said the doctor, "MadamDacier and yourself would bear testimony against me. The utmost indeedthat I should venture would be to question the utility of learning ina young lady's education. " "I own, " said Mrs. Atkinson, "as the world is constituted, it cannotbe as serviceable to her fortune as it will be to that of a man; butyou will allow, doctor, that learning may afford a woman, at least, areasonable and an innocent entertainment. " "But I will suppose, " cried the doctor, "it may have itsinconveniences. As, for instance, if a learned lady should meet withan unlearned husband, might she not be apt to despise him?" "I think not, " cries Mrs. Atkinson--"and, if I may be allowed theinstance, I think I have shewn, myself, that women who have learningthemselves can be contented without that qualification in a man. " "To be sure, " cries the doctor, "there may be other qualificationswhich may have their weight in the balance. But let us take the otherside of the question, and suppose the learned of both sexes to meet inthe matrimonial union, may it not afford one excellent subject ofdisputation, which is the most learned?" "Not at all, " cries Mrs. Atkinson; "for, if they had both learning andgood sense, they would soon see on which side the superiority lay. " "But if the learned man, " said the doctor, "should be a littleunreasonable in his opinion, are you sure that the learned woman wouldpreserve her duty to her husband, and submit?" "But why, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "must we necessarily suppose that alearned man would be unreasonable?" "Nay, madam, " said the doctor, "I am not your husband; and you shallnot hinder me from supposing what I please. Surely it is not such aparadox to conceive that a man of learning should be unreasonable. Arethere no unreasonable opinions in very learned authors, even among thecritics themselves? For instance, what can be a more strange, andindeed unreasonable opinion, than to prefer the Metamorphoses of Ovidto the AEneid of Virgil?" "It would be indeed so strange, " cries the lady, "that you shall notpersuade me it was ever the opinion of any man. " "Perhaps not, " cries the doctor; "and I believe you and I should notdiffer in our judgments of any person who maintained such an opinion--What a taste must he have!" "A most contemptible one indeed, " cries Mrs. Atkinson. "I am satisfied, " cries the doctor. "And in the words of your ownHorace, _Verbum non amplius addam_. " "But how provoking is this, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "to draw one in sucha manner! I protest I was so warm in the defence of my favouriteVirgil, that I was not aware of your design; but all your triumphdepends on a supposition that one should be so unfortunate as to meetwith the silliest fellow in the world. " "Not in the least, " cries the doctor. "Doctor Bentley was not such aperson; and yet he would have quarrelled, I am convinced, with anywife in the world, in behalf of one of his corrections. I don'tsuppose he would have given up his _Ingentia Fata_ to an angel. " "But do you think, " said she, "if I had loved him, I would havecontended with him?" "Perhaps you might sometimes, " said the doctor, "be of thesesentiments; but you remember your own Virgil--_Varium et mutabilesemper faemina_. " "Nay, Amelia, " said Mrs. Atkinson, "you are now concerned as well as Iam; for he hath now abused the whole sex, and quoted the severestthing that ever was said against us, though I allow it is one of thefinest. " "With all my heart, my dear, " cries Amelia. "I have the advantage ofyou, however, for I don't understand him. " "Nor doth she understand much better than yourself, " cries the doctor;"or she would not admire nonsense, even though in Virgil. " "Pardon me, sir, " said she. "And pardon me, madam, " cries the doctor, with a feigned seriousness;"I say, a boy in the fourth form at Eton would be whipt, or woulddeserve to be whipt at least, who made the neuter gender agree withthe feminine. You have heard, however, that Virgil left his AEneidincorrect; and, perhaps, had he lived to correct it, we should nothave seen the faults we now see in it. " "Why, it is very true as you say, doctor, " cries Mrs. Atkinson; "thereseems to be a false concord. I protest I never thought of it before. " "And yet this is the Virgil, " answered the doctor, "that you are sofond of, who hath made you all of the neuter gender; or, as we say inEnglish, he hath made mere animals of you; for, if we translate itthus, "Woman is a various and changeable animal, "there will be no fault, I believe, unless in point of civility to theladies. " Mrs. Atkinson had just time to tell the doctor he was a provokingcreature, before the arrival of Booth and his friend put an end tothat learned discourse, in which neither of the parties had greatlyrecommended themselves to each other; the doctor's opinion of the ladybeing not at all heightened by her progress in the classics, and she, on the other hand, having conceived a great dislike in her hearttowards the doctor, which would have raged, perhaps, with no less furyfrom the consideration that he had been her husband. Chapter ii. _What happened at the masquerade_. From this time to the day of the masquerade nothing happened ofconsequence enough to have a place in this history. On that day Colonel James came to Booth's about nine in the evening, where he stayed for Mrs. James, who did not come till near eleven. Thefour masques then set out together in several chairs, and allproceeded to the Haymarket. When they arrived at the Opera-house the colonel and Mrs. Jamespresently left them; nor did Booth and his lady remain long together, but were soon divided from each other by different masques. A domino soon accosted the lady, and had her away to the upper end ofthe farthest room on the right hand, where both the masques sat down;nor was it long before the he domino began to make very fervent loveto the she. It would, perhaps, be tedious to the reader to run throughthe whole process, which was not indeed in the most romantick stile. The lover seemed to consider his mistress as a mere woman of thisworld, and seemed rather to apply to her avarice and ambition than toher softer passions. As he was not so careful to conceal his true voice as the lady was, she soon discovered that this lover of her's was no other than her oldfriend the peer, and presently a thought suggested itself to her ofmaking an advantage of this accident. She gave him therefore anintimation that she knew him, and expressed some astonishment at hishaving found her out. "I suspect, " says she, "my lord, that you have afriend in the woman where I now lodge, as well as you had in Mrs. Ellison. " My lord protested the contrary. To which she answered, "Nay, my lord, do not defend her so earnestly till you are sure I shouldhave been angry with her. " At these words, which were accompanied with a very bewitchingsoftness, my lord flew into raptures rather too strong for the placehe was in. These the lady gently checked, and begged him to take carethey were not observed; for that her husband, for aught she knew, wasthen in the room. Colonel James came now up, and said, "So, madam, I have the goodfortune to find you again; I have been extremely miserable since Ilost you. " The lady answered in her masquerade voice that she did notknow him. "I am Colonel James, " said he, in a whisper. "Indeed, sir, "answered she, "you are mistaken; I have no acquaintance with anyColonel James. " "Madam, " answered he, in a whisper likewise, "I ampositive I am not mistaken, you are certainly Mrs. Booth. " "Indeed, sir, " said she, "you are very impertinent, and I beg you will leaveme. " My lord then interposed, and, speaking in his own voice, assuredthe colonel that the lady was a woman of quality, and that they wereengaged in a conversation together; upon which the colonel asked thelady's pardon; for, as there was nothing remarkable in her dress, hereally believed he had been mistaken. He then went again a hunting through the rooms, and soon after foundBooth walking without his mask between two ladies, one of whom was ina blue domino, and the other in the dress of a shepherdess. "Will, "cries the colonel, "do you know what is become of our wives; for Ihave seen neither of them since we have been in the room?" Boothanswered, "That he supposed they were both together, and they shouldfind them by and by. " "What!" cries the lady in the blue domino, "areyou both come upon duty then with your wives? as for yours, Mr. Alderman, " said she to the colonel, "I make no question but she is gotinto much better company than her husband's. " "How can you be socruel, madam?" said the shepherdess; "you will make him beat his wifeby and by, for he is a military man I assure you. " "In the trainedbands, I presume, " cries the domino, "for he is plainly dated from thecity. " "I own, indeed, " cries the other, "the gentleman smellsstrongly of Thames-street, and, if I may venture to guess, of thehonourable calling of a taylor. " "Why, what the devil hast thou picked up here?" cries James. "Upon my soul, I don't know, " answered Booth; "I wish you would takeone of them at least. " "What say you, madam?" cries the domino, "will you go with thecolonel? I assure you, you have mistaken your man, for he is no less aperson than the great Colonel James himself. " [Illustration: Booth between the blue domino and a Shepherdess. ] "No wonder, then, that Mr. Booth gives him his choice of us; it is theproper office of a caterer, in which capacity Mr. Booth hath, I amtold, the honour to serve the noble colonel. " "Much good may it do you with your ladies!" said James; "I will go inpursuit of better game. " At which words he walked off. "You are a true sportsman, " cries the shepherdess; "for your onlypleasure, I believe, lies in the pursuit. " "Do you know the gentleman, madam?" cries the domino. "Who doth not know him?" answered the shepherdess. "What is his character?" cries the domino; "for, though I have jestedwith him, I only know him by sight. " "I know nothing very particular in his character, " cries theshepherdess. "He gets every handsome woman he can, and so they doall. " "I suppose then he is not married?" said the domino. "O yes! and married for love too, " answered the other; "but he hathloved away all his love for her long ago, and now, he says, she makesas fine an object of hatred. I think, if the fellow ever appears tohave any wit, it is when he abuses his wife; and, luckily for him, that is his favourite topic. I don't know the poor wretch, but, as hedescribes her, it is a miserable animal. " "I know her very well, " cries the other; "and I am much mistaken ifshe is not even with him; but hang him! what is become of Booth?" At this instant a great noise arose near that part where the twoladies were. This was occasioned by a large assembly of young fellowswhom they call bucks, who were got together, and were enjoying, as thephrase is, a letter, which one of them had found in the room. Curiosity hath its votaries among all ranks of people; whenevertherefore an object of this appears it is as sure of attracting acroud in the assemblies of the polite as in those of their inferiors. When this croud was gathered together, one of the bucks, at the desireof his companions, as well as of all present, performed the part of apublic orator, and read out the following letter, which we shall givethe reader, together with the comments of the orator himself, and ofall his audience. The orator then, being mounted on a bench, began as follows: "Here beginneth the first chapter of--saint--Pox on't, Jack, what isthe saint's name? I have forgot. " "Timothy, you blockhead, " answered another; "--Timothy. " "Well, then, " cries the orator, "of Saint Timothy. "'SIR, --I am very sorry to have any occasion of writing on thefollowing subject in a country that is honoured with the name ofChristian; much more am I concerned to address myself to a man whosemany advantages, derived both from nature and fortune, should demandthe highest return of gratitude to the great Giver of all those goodthings. Is not such a man guilty of the highest ingratitude to thatmost beneficent Being, by a direct and avowed disobedience of his mostpositive laws and commands? "'I need not tell you that adultery is forbid in the laws of thedecalogue; nor need I, I hope, mention that it is expressly forbid inthe New Testament. ' "You see, therefore, " said the orator, "what the law is, and thereforenone of you will be able to plead ignorance when you come to the OldBailey in the other world. But here goes again:-- "'If it had not been so expressly forbidden in Scripture, still thelaw of Nature would have yielded light enough for us to havediscovered the great horror and atrociousness of this crime. "'And accordingly we find that nations, where the Sun of righteousnesshath yet never shined, have punished the adulterer with the mostexemplary pains and penalties; not only the polite heathens, but themost barbarous nations, have concurred in these; in many places themost severe and shameful corporal punishments, and in some, and thosenot a few, death itself hath been inflicted on this crime. "'And sure in a human sense there is scarce any guilt which deservesto be more severely punished. It includes in it almost every injuryand every mischief which one man can do to, or can bring on, another. It is robbing him of his property--' "Mind that, ladies, " said the orator;" you are all the property ofyour husbands. --'And of that property which, if he is a good man, hevalues above all others. It is poisoning that fountain whence he hatha right to derive the sweetest and most innocent pleasure, the mostcordial comfort, the most solid friendship, and most faithfulassistance in all his affairs, wants, and distresses. It is thedestruction of his peace of mind, and even of his reputation. The ruinof both wife and husband, and sometimes of the whole family, are theprobable consequence of this fatal injury. Domestic happiness is theend of almost all our pursuits, and the common reward of all ourpains. When men find themselves for ever barred from this delightfulfruition, they are lost to all industry, and grow careless of alltheir worldly affairs. Thus they become bad subjects, bad relations, bad friends, and bad men. Hatred and revenge are the wretched passionswhich boil in their minds. Despair and madness very commonly ensue, and murder and suicide often close the dreadful scene. ' "Thus, gentlemen and ladies, you see the scene is closed. So here endsthe first act--and thus begins the second:-- "'I have here attempted to lay before you a picture of this vice, thehorror of which no colours of mine can exaggerate. But what pencil candelineate the horrors of that punishment which the Scripture denouncesagainst it? "'And for what will you subject yourself to this punishment? or forwhat reward will you inflict all this misery on another? I will add, on your friend? for the possession of a woman; for the pleasure of amoment? But, if neither virtue nor religion can restrain yourinordinate appetites, are there not many women as handsome as yourfriend's wife, whom, though not with innocence, you may possess with amuch less degree of guilt? What motive then can thus hurry you on tothe destruction of yourself and your friend? doth the peculiarrankness of the guilt add any zest to the sin? doth it enhance thepleasure as much as we may be assured it will the punishment? "'But if you can be so lost to all sense of fear, and of shame, and ofgoodness, as not to be debarred by the evil which you are to bring onyourself, by the extreme baseness of the action, nor by the ruin inwhich you are to involve others, let me still urge the difficulty, Imay say, the impossibility of the success. You are attacking afortress on a rock; a chastity so strongly defended, as well by ahappy natural disposition of mind as by the strongest principles ofreligion and virtue, implanted by education and nourished and improvedby habit, that the woman must be invincible even without that firm andconstant affection of her husband which would guard a much looser andworse-disposed heart. What therefore are you attempting but tointroduce distrust, and perhaps disunion, between an innocent and ahappy couple, in which too you cannot succeed without bringing, I amconvinced, certain destruction on your own head? "'Desist, therefore, let me advise you, from this enormous crime;retreat from the vain attempt of climbing a precipice which it isimpossible you should ever ascend, where you must probably soon fallinto utter perdition, and can have no other hope but of dragging downyour best friend into perdition with you. "'I can think of but one argument more, and that, indeed, a very badone; you throw away that time in an impossible attempt, which might, in other places, crown your sinful endeavours with success. ' "And so ends the dismal ditty. " "D--n me, " cries one, "did ever mortal hear such d--ned stuff?" "Upon my soul, " said another, "I like the last argument well enough. There is some sense in that; for d--n me if I had not rather go to D--g--ss at any time than follow a virtuous b---- for a fortnight. " "Tom, " says one of them, "let us set the ditty to music; let ussubscribe to have it set by Handel; it will make an excellentoratorio. " "D--n me, Jack, " says another, "we'll have it set to a psalm-tune, andwe'll sing it next Sunday at St James's church, and I'll bear a bob, d--n me. " "Fie upon it! gentlemen, fie upon it!" said a frier, who came up; "doyou think there is any wit and humour in this ribaldry; or, if therewere, would it make any atonement for abusing religion and virtue?" "Heyday!" cries one, "this is a frier in good earnest. " "Whatever I am, " said the frier, "I hope at least you are what youappear to be. Heaven forbid, for the sake of our posterity, that youshould be gentlemen. " "Jack, " cries one, "let us toss the frier in a blanket. " "Me in a blanket?" said the frier: "by the dignity of man, I willtwist the neck of every one of you as sure as ever the neck of adunghill-cock was twisted. " At which words he pulled off his mask, andthe tremendous majesty of Colonel Bath appeared, from which the bucksfled away as fast as the Trojans heretofore from the face of Achilles. The colonel did not think it worth while to pursue any other of themexcept him who had the letter in his hand, which the colonel desiredto see, and the other delivered, saying it was very much at hisservice. The colonel being possessed of the letter, retired as privately as hecould, in order to give it a careful perusal; for, badly as it hadbeen read by the orator, there were some passages in it which hadpleased the colonel. He had just gone through it when Booth passed byhim; upon which the colonel called to him, and, delivering him theletter, bid him put it in his pocket and read it at his leisure. Hemade many encomiums upon it, and told Booth it would be of service tohim, and was proper for all young men to read. Booth had not yet seen his wife; but, as he concluded she was safewith Mrs. James, he was not uneasy. He had been prevented searchingfarther after her by the lady in the blue domino, who had joined himagain. Booth had now made these discoveries: that the lady was prettywell acquainted with him, that she was a woman of fashion, and thatshe had a particular regard for him. But, though he was a gay man, hewas in reality so fond of his Amelia, that he thought of no otherwoman; wherefore, though not absolutely a Joseph, as we have alreadyseen, yet could he not be guilty of premeditated inconstancy. He wasindeed so very cold and insensible to the hints which were given him, that the lady began to complain of his dullness. When the shepherdessagain came up and heard this accusation against him, she confirmed it, saying, "I do assure you, madam, he is the dullest fellow in theworld. Indeed, I should almost take you for his wife, by finding you asecond time with him; for I do assure you the gentleman very seldomkeeps any other company. " "Are you so well acquainted with him, madam?" said the domino. "I have had that honour longer than yourladyship, I believe, " answered the shepherdess. "Possibly you may, madam, " cries the domino; "but I wish you would not interrupt us atpresent, for we have some business together. " "I believe, madam, "answered the shepherdess, "my business with the gentleman isaltogether as important as yours; and therefore your ladyship maywithdraw if you please. " "My dear ladies, " cries Booth, "I beg youwill not quarrel about me. " "Not at all, " answered the domino; "sinceyou are so indifferent, I resign my pretensions with all my heart. Ifyou had not been the dullest fellow upon earth, I am convinced youmust have discovered me. " She then went off, muttering to herself thatshe was satisfied the shepherdess was some wretched creature whomnobody knew. The shepherdess overheard the sarcasm, and answered it by asking Boothwhat contemptible wretch he had picked up? "Indeed, madam, " said he, "you know as much of her as I do; she is a masquerade acquaintancelike yourself. " "Like me!" repeated she. "Do you think if this hadbeen our first acquaintance I should have wasted so much time with youas I have? for your part, indeed, I believe a woman will get verylittle advantage by her having been formerly intimate with you. " "I donot know, madam, " said Booth, "that I deserve that character any morethan I know the person that now gives it me. " "And you have theassurance then, " said she, in her own voice, "to affect not toremember me?" "I think, " cries Booth, "I have heard that voice before;but, upon my soul, I do not recollect it. " "Do you recollect, " saidshe, "no woman that you have used with the highest barbarity--I willnot say ingratitude?" "No, upon my honour, " answered Booth. "Mentionnot honour, " said she, "thou wretch! for, hardened as thou art, Icould shew thee a face that, in spite of thy consummate impudence, would confound thee with shame and horrour. Dost thou not yet knowme?" "I do, madam, indeed, " answered Booth, "and I confess that of allwomen in the world you have the most reason for what you said. " Here a long dialogue ensued between the gentleman and the lady, whom, I suppose, I need not mention to have been Miss Matthews; but, as itconsisted chiefly of violent upbraidings on her side, and excuses onhis, I despair of making it entertaining to the reader, and shalltherefore return to the colonel, who, having searched all the roomswith the utmost diligence, without finding the woman he looked for, began to suspect that he had before fixed on the right person, andthat Amelia had denied herself to him, being pleased with herparamour, whom he had discovered to be the noble peer. He resolved, therefore, as he could have no sport himself, to spoilthat of others; accordingly he found out Booth, and asked him againwhat was become of both their wives; for that he had searched all overthe rooms, and could find neither of them. Booth was now a little alarmed at this account, and, parting with MissMatthews, went along with the colonel in search of his wife. As forMiss Matthews, he had at length pacified her with a promise to makeher a visit; which promise she extorted from him, swearing bitterly, in the most solemn manner, unless he made it to her, she would exposeboth him and herself at the masquerade. As he knew the violence of the lady's passions, and to what heightsthey were capable of rising, he was obliged to come in to these terms:for he had, I am convinced, no fear upon earth equal to that ofAmelia's knowing what it was in the power of Miss Matthews tocommunicate to her, and which to conceal from her, he had alreadyundergone so much uneasiness. The colonel led Booth directly to the place where he had seen the peerand Amelia (such he was now well convinced she was) sitting together. Booth no sooner saw her than he said to the colonel, "Sure that is mywife in conversation with that masque?" "I took her for your ladymyself, " said the colonel; "but I found I was mistaken. Hark ye, thatis my Lord----, and I have seen that very lady with him all thisnight. " This conversation past at a little distance, and out of the hearing ofthe supposed Amelia; when Booth, looking stedfastly at the lady, declared with an oath that he was positive the colonel was in theright. She then beckoned to him with her fan; upon which he wentdirectly to her, and she asked him to go home, which he very readilyconsented to. The peer then walked off: the colonel went in pursuit ofhis wife, or of some other woman; and Booth and his lady returned intwo chairs to their lodgings. Chapter iii. _Consequences of the masquerade, not uncommon nor surprizing_. The lady, getting first out of her chair, ran hastily up into thenursery to the children; for such was Amelia's constant method at herreturn home, at whatever hour. Booth then walked into the dining-room, where he had not been long before Amelia came down to him, and, with amost chearful countenance, said, "My dear, I fancy we have neither ofus supped; shall I go down and see whether there is any cold meat inthe house?" "For yourself, if you please, " answered Booth; "but I shall eatnothing. " "How, my dear!" said Amelia; "I hope you have not lost your appetiteat the masquerade!" for supper was a meal at which he generally eatvery heartily. "I know not well what I have lost, " said Booth; "I find myselfdisordered. --My head aches. I know not what is the matter with me. " "Indeed, my dear, you frighten me, " said Amelia; "you look, indeed, disordered. I wish the masquerade had been far enough before you hadgone thither. " "Would to Heaven it had!" cries Booth; "but that is over now. Butpray, Amelia, answer me one question--Who was that gentleman with youwhen I came up to you?" "The gentleman! my dear, " said Amelia; "what gentleman?" "The gentleman--the nobleman--when I came up; sure I speak plain. " "Upon my word, my dear, I don't understand you, " answered she; "I didnot know one person at the masquerade. " "How!" said he; "what! spend the whole evening with a masque withoutknowing him?" "Why, my dear, " said she, "you know we were not together. " "I know we were not, " said he, "but what is that to the purpose? Sureyou answer me strangely. I know we were not together; and therefore Iask you whom you were with?" "Nay, but, my dear, " said she, "can I tell people in masques?" "I say again, madam, " said he, "would you converse two hours or morewith a masque whom you did not know?" "Indeed, child, " says she, "I know nothing of the methods of amasquerade; for I never was at one in my life. " "I wish to Heaven you had not been at this!" cries Booth. "Nay, youwill wish so yourself if you tell me truth. --What have I said? do I--can I suspect you of not speaking truth? Since you are ignorant then Iwill inform you: the man you have conversed with was no other thanLord----. " "And is that the reason, " said she, "you wish I had not been there?" "And is not that reason, " answered he, "sufficient? Is he not the lastman upon earth with whom I would have you converse?" "So you really wish then that I had not been at the masquerade?" "I do, " cried he, "from my soul. " "So may I ever be able, " cried she, "to indulge you in every wish asin this. --I was not there. " "Do not trifle, Amelia, " cried he; "you would not jest with me if youknew the situation of my mind. " "Indeed I do not jest with you, " said she. "Upon my honour I was notthere. Forgive me this first deceit I ever practised, and indeed itshall be the last; for I have paid severely for this by the uneasinessit hath given me. " She then revealed to him the whole secret, whichwas thus: I think it hath been already mentioned in some part of this historythat Amelia and Mrs. Atkinson were exactly of the same make andstature, and that there was likewise a very near resemblance betweentheir voices. When Mrs. Atkinson, therefore, found that Amelia was soextremely averse to the masquerade, she proposed to go thither in herstead, and to pass upon Booth for his own wife. This was afterwards very easily executed; for, when they left Booth'slodgings, Amelia, who went last to her chair, ran back to fetch hermasque, as she pretended, which she had purposely left behind. Shethen whipt off her domino, and threw it over Mrs. Atkinson, who stoodready to receive it, and ran immediately downstairs, and, steppinginto Amelia's chair, proceeded with the rest to the masquerade. As her stature exactly suited that of Amelia, she had very littledifficulty to carry on the imposition; for, besides the naturalresemblance of their voices, and the opportunity of speaking in afeigned one, she had scarce an intercourse of six words with Boothduring the whole time; for the moment they got into the croud she tookthe first opportunity of slipping from him. And he, as the reader mayremember, being seized by other women, and concluding his wife to besafe with Mrs. James, was very well satisfied, till the colonel sethim upon the search, as we have seen before. Mrs. Atkinson, the moment she came home, ran upstairs to the nursery, where she found Amelia, and told her in haste that she might veryeasily carry on the deceit with her husband; for that she might tellhim what she pleased to invent, as they had not been a minute togetherduring the whole evening. Booth was no sooner satisfied that his wife had not been from homethat evening than he fell into raptures with her, gave her a thousandtender caresses, blamed his own judgment, acknowledged the goodness ofhers, and vowed never to oppose her will more in any one instanceduring his life. Mrs. Atkinson, who was still in the nursery with her masquerade dress, was then summoned down-stairs, and, when Booth saw her and heard herspeak in her mimic tone, he declared he was not surprized at hishaving been imposed upon, for that, if they were both in the samedisguise, he should scarce be able to discover the difference betweenthem. They then sat down to half an hour's chearful conversation, afterwhich they retired all in the most perfect good humour. Chapter iv. _Consequences of the masquerade_. When Booth rose in the morning he found in his pocket that letterwhich had been delivered to him by Colonel Bath, which, had not chancebrought to his remembrance, he might possibly have never recollected. He had now, however, the curiosity to open the letter, and beginningto read it, the matter of it drew him on till he perused the whole;for, notwithstanding the contempt cast upon it by those learnedcritics the bucks, neither the subject nor the manner in which it wastreated was altogether contemptible. But there was still another motive which induced Booth to read thewhole letter, and this was, that he presently thought he knew thehand. He did, indeed, immediately conclude it was Dr Harrison; for thedoctor wrote a very remarkable one, and this letter contained all theparticularities of the doctor's character. He had just finished a second reading of this letter when the doctorhimself entered the room. The good man was impatient to know thesuccess of Amelia's stratagem, for he bore towards her all that lovewhich esteem can create in a good mind, without the assistance ofthose selfish considerations from which the love of wives and childrenmay be ordinarily deduced. The latter of which, Nature, by very subtleand refined reasoning, suggests to us to be part of our dear selves;and the former, as long as they remain the objects of our liking, thatsame Nature is furnished with very plain and fertile arguments torecommend to our affections. But to raise that affection in the humanbreast which the doctor had for Amelia, Nature is forced to use a kindof logic which is no more understood by a bad man than Sir IsaacNewton's doctrine of colours is by one born blind. And yet in realityit contains nothing more abstruse than this, that an injury is theobject of anger, danger of fear, and praise of vanity; for in the samesimple manner it may be asserted that goodness is the object of love. The doctor enquired immediately for his child (for so he often calledAmelia); Booth answered that he had left her asleep, for that she hadhad but a restless night. "I hope she is not disordered by themasquerade, " cries the doctor. Booth answered he believed she would bevery well when she waked. "I fancy, " said he, "her gentle spirits werea little too much fluttered last night; that is all. " "I hope, then, " said the doctor, "you will never more insist on hergoing to such places, but know your own happiness in having a wifethat hath the discretion to avoid those places; which, though perhapsthey may not be as some represent them, such brothels of vice anddebauchery as would impeach the character of every virtuous woman whowas seen at them, are certainly, however, scenes of riot, disorder, and intemperance, very improper to be frequented by a chaste and soberChristian matron. " Booth declared that he was very sensible of his error, and that, sofar from soliciting his wife to go to another masquerade, he did notintend ever to go thither any more himself. The doctor highly approved the resolution; and then Booth said, "And Ithank you, my dear friend, as well as my wife's discretion, that shewas not at the masquerade last night. " He then related to the doctorthe discovery of the plot; and the good man was greatly pleased withthe success of the stratagem, and that Booth took it in such goodpart. "But, sir, " says Booth, "I had a letter given me by a noble colonelthere, which is written in a hand so very like yours, that I couldalmost swear to it. Nor is the stile, as far as I can guess, unlikeyour own. Here it is, sir. Do you own the letter, doctor, or do younot?" The doctor took the letter, and, having looked at it a moment, said, "And did the colonel himself give you this letter?" "The colonel himself, " answered Booth. "Why then, " cries the doctor, "he is surely the most impudent fellowthat the world ever produced. What! did he deliver it with an air oftriumph?" "He delivered it me with air enough, " cries Booth, "after his ownmanner, and bid me read it for my edification. To say the truth, I ama little surprized that he should single me out of all mankind todeliver the letter to; I do not think I deserve the character of sucha husband. It is well I am not so very forward to take an affront assome folks. " "I am glad to see you are not, " said the doctor; "and your behaviourin this affair becomes both the man of sense and the Christian; for itwould be surely the greatest folly, as well as the most daringimpiety, to risque your own life for the impertinence of a fool. Aslong as you are assured of the virtue of your own wife, it is wisdomin you to despise the efforts of such a wretch. Not, indeed, that yourwife accuses him of any downright attack, though she hath observedenough in his behaviour to give offence to her delicacy. " "You astonish me, doctor, " said Booth. "What can you mean? my wifedislike his behaviour! hath the colonel ever offended her?" "I do not say he hath ever offended her by any open declarations; norhath he done anything which, according to the most romantic notion ofhonour, you can or ought to resent; but there is something extremelynice in the chastity of a truly virtuous woman. " "And hath my wife really complained of anything of that kind in thecolonel?" "Look ye, young gentleman, " cries the doctor; "I will have noquarrelling or challenging; I find I have made some mistake, andtherefore I insist upon it by all the rights of friendship, that yougive me your word of honour you will not quarrel with the colonel onthis account. " "I do, with all my heart, " said Booth; "for, if I did not know yourcharacter, I should absolutely think you was jesting with me. I do notthink you have mistaken my wife, but I am sure she hath mistaken thecolonel, and hath misconstrued some over-strained point of gallantry, something of the Quixote kind, into a design against her chastity; butI have that opinion of the colonel, that I hope you will not beoffended when I declare I know not which of you two I should be thesooner jealous of. " "I would by no means have you jealous of any one, " cries the doctor;"for I think my child's virtue may be firmly relied on; but I amconvinced she would not have said what she did to me without a cause;nor should I, without such a conviction, have written that letter tothe colonel, as I own to you I did. However, nothing I say hath yetpast which, even in the opinion of false honour, you are at liberty toresent! but as to declining any great intimacy, if you will take myadvice, I think that would be prudent. " "You will pardon me, my dearest friend, " said Booth, "but I havereally such an opinion of the colonel that I would pawn my life uponhis honour; and as for women, I do not believe he ever had anattachment to any. " "Be it so, " said the doctor: "I have only two things to insist on. Thefirst is, that, if ever you change your opinion, this letter may notbe the subject of any quarrelling or fighting: the other is, that younever mention a word of this to your wife. By the latter I shall seewhether you can keep a secret; and, if it is no otherwise material, itwill be a wholesome exercise to your mind; for the practice of anyvirtue is a kind of mental exercise, and serves to maintain the healthand vigour of the soul. " "I faithfully promise both, " cries Booth. And now the breakfastentered the room, as did soon after Amelia and Mrs. Atkinson. The conversation ran chiefly on the masquerade; and Mrs. Atkinson gavean account of several adventures there; but whether she told the wholetruth with regard to herself I will not determine, for, certain it is, she never once mentioned the name of the noble peer. Amongst the rest, she said there was a young fellow that had preached a sermon thereupon a stool, in praise of adultery, she believed; for she could notget near enough to hear the particulars. During that transaction Booth had been engaged with the blue domino inanother room, so that he knew nothing of it; so that what Mrs. Atkinson had now said only brought to his mind the doctor's letter toColonel Bath, for to him he supposed it was written; and the idea ofthe colonel being a lover to Amelia struck him in so ridiculous alight, that it threw him into a violent fit of laughter. The doctor, who, from the natural jealousy of an author, imputed theagitation of Booth's muscles to his own sermon or letter on thatsubject, was a little offended, and said gravely, "I should be glad toknow the reason of this immoderate mirth. Is adultery a matter of jestin your opinion?" "Far otherwise, " answered Booth. "But how is it possible to refrainfrom laughter at the idea of a fellow preaching a sermon in favour ofit at such a place?" "I am very sorry, " cries the doctor, "to find the age is grown to soscandalous a degree of licentiousness, that we have thrown off notonly virtue, but decency. How abandoned must be the manners of anynation where such insults upon religion and morality can be committedwith impunity! No man is fonder of true wit and humour than myself;but to profane sacred things with jest and scoffing is a sure sign ofa weak and a wicked mind. It is the very vice which Homer attacks inthe odious character of Thersites. The ladies must excuse my repeatingthe passage to you, as I know you have Greek enough to understandit:-- Os rh' epea phresin esin akosma te, polla te ede Maps, atar ou kata kosmon epizemenai basileusin, All'o, ti oi eisaito geloiton Argeiosin Emmenai [Footnote: Thus paraphrased by Mr. Pope: "Awed by no shame, by no respect controll'd, In scandal busy, in reproaches bold, With witty malice, studious to defame, Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim. "] And immediately adds, ----aiskistos de aner ypo Ilion elthe [Footnote: "He was the greatest scoundrel in the whole army. "] "Horace, again, describes such a rascal: ----Solutos Qui captat risus hominum famamque dicacis, [Footnote: "Who trivial bursts of laughter strives to raise, And courts of prating petulance the praise. "--FRANCIS. ] and says of him, Hic niger est, hunc tu, Romane, caveto. " [Footnote: "This man is black; do thou, O Roman! shun this man. "] "O charming Homer!" said Mrs. Atkinson, "how much above all otherwriters!" "I ask your pardon, madam, " said the doctor; "I forgot you was ascholar; but, indeed, I did not know you understood Greek as well asLatin. " "I do not pretend, " said she, "to be a critic in the Greek; but Ithink I am able to read a little of Homer, at least with the help oflooking now and then into the Latin. " "Pray, madam, " said the doctor, "how do you like this passage in thespeech of Hector to Andromache: ----Eis oikon iousa ta sautes erga komize, Iston t elakaten te, kai amphipoloisi keleue Ergon epoichesthai? [Footnote: "Go home and mind your own business. Follow yourspinning, and keep your maids to their work. "] "Or how do you like the character of Hippodamia, who, by being theprettiest girl and best workwoman of her age, got one of the besthusbands in all Troy?--I think, indeed, Homer enumerates herdiscretion with her other qualifications; but I do not remember hegives us one character of a woman of learning. --Don't you conceivethis to be a great omission in that who, by being the prettiest girland best workwoman of her age, got one of the best husbands in allTroy?---I think, indeed, Homer enumerates her discretion with herother qualifications; but I do not remember Don't you conceive this tobe a great omission in that charming poet? However, Juvenal makes youamends, for he talks very abundantly of the learning of the Romanladies in his time. " "You are a provoking man, doctor, " said Mrs. Atkinson; "where is theharm in a woman's having learning as well as a man?" "Let me ask you another question, " said the doctor. "Where is the harmin a man's being a fine performer with a needle as well as a woman?And yet, answer me honestly; would you greatly chuse to marry a manwith a thimble upon his finger? Would you in earnest think a needlebecame the hand of your husband as well as a halberd?" "As to war, I am with you, " said she. "Homer himself, I well remember, makes Hector tell his wife that warlike works--what is the Greek word--Pollemy--something--belonged to men only; and I readily agree to it. I hate a masculine woman, an Amazon, as much as you can do; but whatis there masculine in learning?" "Nothing so masculine, take my word for it. As for your Pollemy, Ilook upon it to be the true characteristic of a devil. So Homereverywhere characterizes Mars. " "Indeed, my dear, " cries the serjeant, "you had better not disputewith the doctor; for, upon my word, he will be too hard for you. " "Nay, I beg _you_ will not interfere, " cries Mrs. Atkinson; "I am sure_you_ can be no judge in these matters. " At which the doctor and Booth burst into a loud laugh; and Amelia, though fearful of giving her friend offence, could not forbear agentle smile. "You may laugh, gentlemen, if you please, " said Mrs. Atkinson; "but Ithank Heaven I have married a man who is not jealous of myunderstanding. I should have been the most miserable woman upon earthwith a starched pedant who was possessed of that nonsensical opinionthat the difference of sexes causes any difference in the mind. Whydon't you honestly avow the Turkish notion that women have no souls?for you say the same thing in effect. " "Indeed, my dear, " cries the serjeant, greatly concerned to see hiswife so angry, "you have mistaken the doctor. " "I beg, my dear, " cried she, "_you_ will say nothing upon thesesubjects--I hope _you_ at least do not despise my understanding. " "I assure you, I do not, " said the serjeant; "and I hope you willnever despise mine; for a man may have some understanding, I hope, without learning. " Mrs. Atkinson reddened extremely at these words; and the doctor, fearing he had gone too far, began to soften matters, in which Ameliaassisted him. By these means, the storm rising in Mrs. Atkinson beforewas in some measure laid, at least suspended from bursting at present;but it fell afterwards upon the poor serjeant's head in a torrent, whohad learned perhaps one maxim from his trade, that a cannon-ballalways doth mischief in proportion to the resistance it meets with, and that nothing so effectually deadens its force as a woolpack. Theserjeant therefore bore all with patience; and the idea of a woolpack, perhaps, bringing that of a feather-bed into his head, he at last notonly quieted his wife, but she cried out with great sincerity, "Well, my dear, I will say one thing for you, that I believe from my soul, though you have no learning, you have the best understanding of anyman upon earth; and I must own I think the latter far the moreprofitable of the two. " Far different was the idea she entertained of the doctor, whom, fromthis day, she considered as a conceited pedant; nor could all Amelia'sendeavours ever alter her sentiments. The doctor now took his leave of Booth and his wife for a week, heintending to set out within an hour or two with his old friend, withwhom our readers were a little acquainted at the latter end of theninth book, and of whom, perhaps, they did not then conceive the mostfavourable opinion. Nay, I am aware that the esteem which some readers before had for thedoctor may be here lessened; since he may appear to have been too easya dupe to the gross flattery of the old gentleman. If there be anysuch critics, we are heartily sorry, as well for them as for thedoctor; but it is our business to discharge the part of a faithfulhistorian, and to describe human nature as it is, not as we would wishit to be. Chapter V _In which Colonel Bath appears in great glory_. That afternoon, as Booth was walking in the Park, he met with ColonelBath, who presently asked him for the letter which he had given himthe night before; upon which Booth immediately returned it. "Don't you think, " cries Bath, "it is writ with great dignity ofexpression and emphasis of--of--of judgment?" "I am surprized, though, " cries Booth, "that any one should write sucha letter to you, colonel. " "To me!" said Bath. "What do you mean, sir? I hope you don't imagineany man durst write such a letter to me? d--n me, if I knew a man whothought me capable of debauching my friend's wife, I would--d--n me. " "I believe, indeed, sir, " cries Booth, "that no man living dares puthis name to such a letter; but you see it is anonymous. " "I don't know what you mean by ominous, " cries the colonel; "but, blast my reputation, if I had received such a letter, if I would nothave searched the world to have found the writer. D--n me, I wouldhave gone to the East Indies to have pulled off his nose. " "He would, indeed, have deserved it, " cries Booth. "But pray, sir, howcame you by it?" "I took it, " said the colonel, "from a sett of idle young rascals, oneof whom was reading it out aloud upon a stool, while the rest wereattempting to make a jest, not only of the letter, but of all decency, virtue, and religion. A sett of fellows that you must have seen orheard of about the town, that are, d--n me, a disgrace to the dignityof manhood; puppies that mistake noise and impudence, rudeness andprofaneness, for wit. If the drummers of my company had not moreunderstanding than twenty such fellows, I'd have them both whipt outof the regiment. " "So, then, you do not know the person to whom it was writ?" saidBooth. "Lieutenant, " cries the colonel, "your question deserves no answer. Iought to take time to consider whether I ought not to resent thesupposition. Do you think, sir, I am acquainted with a rascal?" "I do not suppose, colonel, " cries Booth, "that you would willinglycultivate an intimacy with such a person; but a man must have goodluck who hath any acquaintance if there are not some rascals amongthem. " "I am not offended with you, child, " says the colonel. "I know you didnot intend to offend me. " "No man, I believe, dares intend it, " said Booth. "I believe so too, " said the colonel; "d--n me, I know it. But youknow, child, how tender I am on this subject. If I had been evermarried myself, I should have cleft the man's skull who had dared lookwantonly at my wife. " "It is certainly the most cruel of all injuries, " said Booth. "Howfinely doth Shakespeare express it in his Othello! 'But there, where I had treasured up my soul. '" "That Shakespeare, " cries the colonel, "was a fine fellow. He was avery pretty poet indeed. Was it not Shakespeare that wrote the playabout Hotspur? You must remember these lines. I got them almost byheart at the playhouse; for I never missed that play whenever it wasacted, if I was in town:-- By Heav'n it was an easy leap, To pluck bright honour into the full moon, Or drive into the bottomless deep. And--and--faith, I have almost forgot them; but I know it is somethingabout saving your honour from drowning--O! it is very fine! I say, d--n me, the man that writ those lines was the greatest poet the worldever produced. There is dignity of expression and emphasis ofthinking, d--n me. " Booth assented to the colonel's criticism, and then cried, "I wish, colonel, you would be so kind to give me that letter. " The colonelanswered, if he had any particular use for it he would give it himwith all his heart, and presently delivered it; and soon afterwardsthey parted. Several passages now struck all at once upon Booth's mind, which gavehim great uneasiness. He became confident now that he had mistaken onecolonel for another; and, though he could not account for the letter'sgetting into those hands from whom Bath had taken it (indeed James haddropt it out of his pocket), yet a thousand circumstances left him noroom to doubt the identity of the person, who was a man much moreliable to raise the suspicion of a husband than honest Bath, who wouldat any time have rather fought with a man than lain with a woman. The whole behaviour of Amelia now rushed upon his memory. Herresolution not to take up her residence at the colonel's house, herbackwardness even to dine there, her unwillingness to go to themasquerade, many of her unguarded expressions, and some where she hadbeen more guarded, all joined together to raise such an idea in Mr. Booth, that he had almost taken a resolution to go and cut the colonelto pieces in his own house. Cooler thoughts, however, suggestedthemselves to him in time. He recollected the promise he had sosolemnly made to the doctor. He considered, moreover, that he was yetin the dark as to the extent of the colonel's guilt. Having nothing, therefore, to fear from it, he contented himself to postpone aresentment which he nevertheless resolved to take of the colonelhereafter, if he found he was in any degree a delinquent. The first step he determined to take was, on the first opportunity, torelate to Colonel James the means by which he became possessed of theletter, and to read it to him; on which occasion, he thought he shouldeasily discern by the behaviour of the colonel whether he had beensuspected either by Amelia or the doctor without a cause; but as forhis wife, he fully resolved not to reveal the secret to her till thedoctor's return. While Booth was deeply engaged by himself in these meditations, Captain Trent came up to him, and familiarly slapped him on theshoulder. They were soon joined by a third gentleman, and presently afterwardsby a fourth, both acquaintances of Mr. Trent; and all having walkedtwice the length of the Mall together, it being now past nine in theevening, Trent proposed going to the tavern, to which the strangersimmediately consented; and Booth himself, after some resistance, wasat length persuaded to comply. To the King's Arms then they went, where the bottle went very brisklyround till after eleven; at which time Trent proposed a game at cards, to which proposal likewise Booth's consent was obtained, though notwithout much difficulty; for, though he had naturally some inclinationto gaming, and had formerly a little indulged it, yet he had entirelyleft it off for many years. Booth and his friend were partners, and had at first some success; butFortune, according to her usual conduct, soon shifted about, andpersecuted Booth with such malice, that in about two hours he wasstripped of all the gold in his pocket, which amounted to twelveguineas, being more than half the cash which he was at that timeworth. How easy it is for a man who is at all tainted with the itch of gamingto leave off play in such a situation, especially when he is likewiseheated with liquor, I leave to the gamester to determine. Certain itis that Booth had no inclination to desist; but, on the contrary, wasso eagerly bent on playing on, that he called his friend out of theroom, and asked him for ten pieces, which he promised punctually topay the next morning. Trent chid him for using so much formality on the occasion. "Youknow, " said he, "dear Booth, you may have what money you please of me. Here is a twenty-pound note at your service; and, if you want fivetimes the sum, it is at your service. We will never let these fellowsgo away with our money in this manner; for we have so much theadvantage, that if the knowing ones were here they would lay odds ofour side. " But if this was really Mr. Rent's opinion, he was very much mistaken;for the other two honourable gentlemen were not only greater mastersof the game, and somewhat soberer than poor Booth, having, with allthe art in their power, evaded the bottle, but they had, moreover, another small advantage over their adversaries, both of them, by meansof some certain private signs, previously agreed upon between them, being always acquainted with the principal cards in each other'shands. It cannot be wondered, therefore, that Fortune was on theirside; for, however she may be reported to favour fools, she never, Ibelieve, shews them any countenance when they engage in play withknaves. The more Booth lost, the deeper he made his bets; the consequence ofwhich was, that about two in the morning, besides the loss of his ownmoney, he was fifty pounds indebted to Trent: a sum, indeed, which hewould not have borrowed, had not the other, like a very generousfriend, pushed it upon him. Trent's pockets became at last dry by means of these loans. His ownloss, indeed, was trifling; for the stakes of the games were no higherthan crowns, and betting (as it is called) was that to which Boothowed his ruin. The gentlemen, therefore, pretty well knowing Booth'scircumstances, and being kindly unwilling to win more of a man than hewas worth, declined playing any longer, nor did Booth once ask them topersist, for he was ashamed of the debt which he had alreadycontracted to Trent, and very far from desiring to encrease it. The company then separated. The two victors and Trent went off intheir chairs to their several houses near Grosvenor-square, and poorBooth, in a melancholy mood, walked home to his lodgings. He was, indeed, in such a fit of despair, that it more than once came into hishead to put an end to his miserable being. But before we introduce him to Amelia we must do her the justice torelate the manner in which she spent this unhappy evening. It wasabout seven when Booth left her to walk in the park; from this timetill past eight she was employed with her children, in playing withthem, in giving them their supper, and in putting them to bed. When these offices were performed she employed herself another hour incooking up a little supper for her husband, this being, as we havealready observed, his favourite meal, as indeed it was her's; and, ina most pleasant and delightful manner, they generally passed theirtime at this season, though their fare was very seldom of thesumptuous kind. It now grew dark, and her hashed mutton was ready for the table, butno Booth appeared. Having waited therefore for him a full hour, shegave him over for that evening; nor was she much alarmed at hisabsence, as she knew he was in a night or two to be at the tavern withsome brother-officers; she concluded therefore that they had met inthe park, and had agreed to spend this evening together. At ten then she sat down to supper by herself, for Mrs. Atkinson wasthen abroad. And here we cannot help relating a little incident, however trivial it may appear to some. Having sat some time alone, reflecting on their distressed situation, her spirits grew very low;and she was once or twice going to ring the bell to send her maid forhalf-a-pint of white wine, but checked her inclination in order tosave the little sum of sixpence, which she did the more resolutely asshe had before refused to gratify her children with tarts for theirsupper from the same motive. And this self-denial she was veryprobably practising to save sixpence, while her husband was paying adebt of several guineas incurred by the ace of trumps being in thehands of his adversary. Instead therefore of this cordial she took up one of the excellentFarquhar's comedies, and read it half through; when, the clockstriking twelve, she retired to bed, leaving the maid to sit up forher master. She would, indeed, have much more willingly sat upherself, but the delicacy of her own mind assured her that Booth wouldnot thank her for the compliment. This is, indeed, a method which somewives take of upbraiding their husbands for staying abroad till toolate an hour, and of engaging them, through tenderness and goodnature, never to enjoy the company of their friends too long when theymust do this at the expence of their wives' rest. To bed then she went, but not to sleep. Thrice indeed she told thedismal clock, and as often heard the more dismal watchman, till hermiserable husband found his way home, and stole silently like a thiefto bed to her; at which time, pretending then first to awake, shethrew her snowy arms around him; though, perhaps, the more wittyproperty of snow, according to Addison, that is to say its coldness, rather belonged to the poor captain. Chapter vi. _Read, gamester, and observe_. Booth could not so well disguise the agitations of his mind fromAmelia, but that she perceived sufficient symptoms to assure her thatsome misfortune had befallen him. This made her in her turn so uneasythat Booth took notice of it, and after breakfast said, "Sure, my dearEmily, something hath fallen out to vex you. " Amelia, looking tenderly at him, answered, "Indeed, my dear, you arein the right; I am indeed extremely vexed. " "For Heaven's sake, " saidhe, "what is it?" "Nay, my love, " cried she, "that you must answeryourself. Whatever it is which hath given you all that disturbancethat you in vain endeavour to conceal from me, this it is which causesall my affliction. " "You guess truly, my sweet, " replied Booth; "I am indeed afflicted, and I will not, nay I cannot, conceal the truth from you. I haveundone myself, Amelia. " "What have you done, child?" said she, in some consternation; "pray, tell me. " "I have lost my money at play, " answered he. "Pugh!" said she, recovering herself--"what signifies the trifle youhad in your pocket? Resolve never to play again, and let it give youno further vexation; I warrant you, we will contrive some method torepair such a loss. " "Thou heavenly angel! thou comfort of my soul!" cried Booth, tenderlyembracing her; then starting a little from her arms, and looking witheager fondness in her eyes, he said, "Let me survey thee; art thoureally human, or art thou not rather an angel in a human form? O, no, "cried he, flying again into her arms, "thou art my dearest woman, mybest, my beloved wife!" Amelia, having returned all his caresses with equal kindness, told himshe had near eleven guineas in her purse, and asked how much sheshould fetch him. "I would not advise you, Billy, to carry too much inyour pocket, for fear it should be a temptation to you to return togaming, in order to retrieve your past losses. Let me beg you, on allaccounts, never to think more, if possible, on the trifle you havelost, anymore than if you had never possessed it. " Booth promised her faithfully he never would, and refused to take anyof the money. He then hesitated a moment, and cried--"You say, mydear, you have eleven guineas; you have a diamond ring, likewise, which was your grandmother's--I believe that is worth twenty pounds;and your own and the child's watch are worth as much more. " "I believe they would sell for as much, " cried Amelia; "for apawnbroker of Mrs. Atkinson's acquaintance offered to lend me thirty-five pounds upon them when you was in your last distress. But why areyou computing their value now?" "I was only considering, " answered he, "how much we could raise in anycase of exigency. " "I have computed it myself, " said she; "and I believe all we have inthe world, besides our bare necessary apparel, would produce aboutsixty pounds: and suppose, my dear, " said she, "while we have thatlittle sum, we should think of employing it some way or other, toprocure some small subsistence for ourselves and our family. As foryour dependence on the colonel's friendship, it is all vain, I amafraid, and fallacious. Nor do I see any hopes you have from any otherquarter, of providing for yourself again in the army. And though thesum which is now in our power is very small, yet we may possiblycontrive with it to put ourselves into some mean way of livelihood. Ihave a heart, my Billy, which is capable of undergoing anything foryour sake; and I hope my hands are as able to work as those which havebeen more inured to it. But think, my dear, think what must be ourwretched condition, when the very little we now have is all moulderedaway, as it will soon be in this town. " When poor Booth heard this, and reflected that the time which Ameliaforesaw was already arrived (for that he had already lost everyfarthing they were worth), it touched him to the quick; he turnedpale, gnashed his teeth, and cried out, "Damnation! this is too muchto bear. " Amelia was thrown into the utmost consternation by this behaviour;and, with great terror in her countenance, cried out, "Good Heavens!my dear love, what is the reason of this agony?" "Ask me no questions, " cried he, "unless you would drive me tomadness. " "My Billy! my love!" said she, "what can be the meaning of this?--Ibeg you will deal openly with me, and tell me all your griefs. " "Have you dealt fairly with me, Amelia?" said he. "Yes, surely, " said she; "Heaven is my witness how fairly. " "Nay, do not call Heaven, " cried he, "to witness a falsehood. You havenot dealt openly with me, Amelia. You have concealed secrets from me;secrets which I ought to have known, and which, if I had known, it hadbeen better for us both. " "You astonish me as much as you shock me, " cried she. "What falsehood, what treachery have I been guilty of?" "You tell me, " said he, "that I can have no reliance on James; why didnot you tell me so before?" "I call Heaven again, " said she, "to witness; nay, I appeal toyourself for the truth of it; I have often told you so. I have toldyou I disliked the man, notwithstanding the many favours he had doneyou. I desired you not to have too absolute a reliance upon him. I ownI had once an extreme good opinion of him, but I changed it, and Iacquainted you that I had so--" "But not, " cries he, "with the reasons why you had changed it. " "I was really afraid, my dear, " said she, "of going too far. I knewthe obligations you had to him; and if I suspected that he actedrather from vanity than true friendship--" "Vanity!" cries he; "take care, Amelia: you know his motive to be muchworse than vanity--a motive which, if he had piled obligations on metill they had reached the skies, would tumble all down to hell. It isvain to conceal it longer--I know all--your confidant hath told meall. " "Nay, then, " cries she, "on my knees I entreat you to be pacified, andhear me out. It was, my dear, for you, my dread of your jealoushonour, and the fatal consequences. " "Is not Amelia, then, " cried he, "equally jealous of my honour? Wouldshe, from a weak tenderness for my person, go privately about tobetray, to undermine the most invaluable treasure of my soul? Wouldshe have me pointed at as the credulous dupe, the easy fool, the tame, the kind cuckold, of a rascal with whom I conversed as a friend?" "Indeed you injure me, " said Amelia. "Heaven forbid I should have thetrial! but I think I could sacrifice all I hold most dear to preserveyour honour. I think I have shewn I can. But I will--when you arecool, I will--satisfy you I have done nothing you ought to blame. " "I am cool then, " cries he; "I will with the greatest coolness hearyou. --But do not think, Amelia, I have the least jealousy, the leastsuspicion, the least doubt of your honour. It is your want ofconfidence in me alone which I blame. " "When you are calm, " cried she, "I will speak, and not before. " He assured her he was calm; and then she said, "You have justified myconduct by your present passion, in concealing from you my suspicions;for they were no more, nay, it is possible they were unjust; for sincethe doctor, in betraying the secret to you, hath so far falsified myopinion of him, why may I not be as well deceived in my opinion of thecolonel, since it was only formed on some particulars in his behaviourwhich I disliked? for, upon my honour, he never spoke a word to me, nor hath been ever guilty of any direct action, which I could blame. "She then went on, and related most of the circumstances which she hadmentioned to the doctor, omitting one or two of the strongest, andgiving such a turn to the rest, that, if Booth had not had some ofOthello's blood in him, his wife would have almost appeared a prude inhis eyes. Even he, however, was pretty well pacified by thisnarrative, and said he was glad to find a possibility of the colonel'sinnocence; but that he greatly commended the prudence of his wife, andonly wished she would for the future make him her only confidant. Amelia, upon that, expressed some bitterness against the doctor forbreaking his trust; when Booth, in his excuse, related all thecircumstances of the letter, and plainly convinced her that the secrethad dropt by mere accident from the mouth of the doctor. Thus the husband and wife became again reconciled, and poor Ameliagenerously forgave a passion of which the sagacious reader is betteracquainted with the real cause than was that unhappy lady. Chapter vii. _In which Booth receives a visit from Captain Trent_. When Booth grew perfectly cool, and began to reflect that he hadbroken his word to the doctor, in having made the discovery to hiswife which we have seen in the last chapter, that thought gave himgreat uneasiness; and now, to comfort him, Captain Trent came to makehim a visit. This was, indeed, almost the last man in the world whose company hewished for; for he was the only man he was ashamed to see, for areason well known to gamesters; among whom, the most dishonourable ofall things is not to pay a debt, contracted at the gaming-table, thenext day, or the next time at least that you see the party. Booth made no doubt but that Trent was come on purpose to receive thisdebt; the latter had been therefore scarce a minute in the room beforeBooth began, in an aukward manner, to apologise; but Trent immediatelystopt his mouth, and said, "I do not want the money, Mr. Booth, andyou may pay it me whenever you are able; and, if you are never able, Iassure you I will never ask you for it. " This generosity raised such a tempest of gratitude in Booth (if I maybe allowed the expression), that the tears burst from his eyes, and itwas some time before he could find any utterance for those sentimentswith which his mind overflowed; but, when he began to express histhankfulness, Trent immediately stopt him, and gave a sudden turn totheir discourse. Mrs. Trent had been to visit Mrs. Booth on the masquerade evening, which visit Mrs. Booth had not yet returned. Indeed, this was only thesecond day since she had received it. Trent therefore now told hisfriend that he should take it extremely kind if he and his lady wouldwaive all ceremony, and sup at their house the next evening. Boothhesitated a moment, but presently said, "I am pretty certain my wifeis not engaged, and I will undertake for her. I am sure she will notrefuse anything Mr. Trent can ask. " And soon after Trent took Boothwith him to walk in the Park. There were few greater lovers of a bottle than Trent; he soon proposedtherefore to adjourn to the King's Arms tavern, where Booth, thoughmuch against his inclination, accompanied him. But Trent was veryimportunate, and Booth did not think himself at liberty to refuse sucha request to a man from whom he had so lately received suchobligations. When they came to the tavern, however, Booth recollected the omissionhe had been guilty of the night before. He wrote a short notetherefore to his wife, acquainting her that he should not come home tosupper; but comforted her with a faithful promise that he would on noaccount engage himself in gaming. The first bottle passed in ordinary conversation; but, when they hadtapped the second, Booth, on some hints which Trent gave him, veryfairly laid open to him his whole circumstances, and declared healmost despaired of mending them. "My chief relief, " said he, "was inthe interest of Colonel James; but I have given up those hopes. " "And very wisely too, " said Trent "I say nothing of the colonel's goodwill. Very likely he may be your sincere friend; but I do not believehe hath the interest he pretends to. He hath had too many favours inhis own family to ask any more yet a while. But I am mistaken if youhave not a much more powerful friend than the colonel; one who is bothable and willing to serve you. I dined at his table within these twodays, and I never heard kinder nor warmer expressions from the mouthof man than he made use of towards you. I make no doubt you know whomI mean. " "Upon my honour I do not, " answered Booth; "nor did I guess that I hadsuch a friend in the world as you mention. " "I am glad then, " cries Trent, "that I have the pleasure of informingyou of it. " He then named the noble peer who hath been already sooften mentioned in this history. Booth turned pale and started at his name. "I forgive you, my dearTrent, " cries Booth, "for mentioning his name to me, as you are astranger to what hath passed between us. " "Nay, I know nothing that hath passed between you, " answered Trent. "Iam sure, if there is any quarrel between you of two days' standing, all is forgiven on his part. " "D--n his forgiveness!" said Booth. "Perhaps I ought to blush at whatI have forgiven. " "You surprize me!" cries Trent. "Pray what can be the matter?" "Indeed, my dear Trent, " cries Booth, very gravely, "he would haveinjured me in the tenderest part. I know not how to tell it you; buthe would have dishonoured me with my wife. " "Sure, you are not in earnest!" answered Trent; "but, if you are, youwill pardon me for thinking that impossible. " "Indeed, " cries Booth, "I have so good an opinion of my wife as tobelieve it impossible for him to succeed; but that he should intend methe favour you will not, I believe, think an impossibility. " "Faith! not in the least, " said Trent. "Mrs. Booth is a very finewoman; and, if I had the honour to be her husband, I should not beangry with any man for liking her. " "But you would be angry, " said Booth, "with a man, who should make useof stratagems and contrivances to seduce her virtue; especially if hedid this under the colour of entertaining the highest friendship foryourself. " "Not at all, " cries Trent. "It is human nature. " "Perhaps it is, " cries Booth; "but it is human nature depraved, striptof all its worth, and loveliness, and dignity, and degraded down to alevel with the vilest brutes. " "Look ye, Booth, " cries Trent, "I would not be misunderstood. I think, when I am talking to you, I talk to a man of sense and to aninhabitant of this country, not to one who dwells in a land of saints. If you have really such an opinion as you express of this noble lord, you have the finest opportunity of making a complete fool and bubbleof him that any man can desire, and of making your own fortune at thesame time. I do not say that your suspicions are groundless; for, ofall men upon earth I know, my lord is the greatest bubble to women, though I believe he hath had very few. And this I am confident of, that he hath not the least jealousy of these suspicions. Now, therefore, if you will act the part of a wise man, I will undertakethat you shall make your fortune without the least injury to thechastity of Mrs. Booth. " "I do not understand you, sir, " said Booth. "Nay, " cries Trent, "if you will not understand me, I have done. Imeant only your service; and I thought I had known you better. " Booth begged him to explain himself. "If you can, " said he, "shew meany way to improve such circumstances as I have opened to you, you maydepend on it I shall readily embrace it, and own my obligations toyou. " "That is spoken like a man, " cries Trent. "Why, what is it more thanthis? Carry your suspicions in your own bosom. Let Mrs. Booth, inwhose virtue I am sure you may be justly confident, go to the publicplaces; there let her treat my lord with common civility only; I amsure he will bite. And thus, without suffering him to gain hispurpose, you will gain yours. I know several who have succeeded withhim in this manner. " "I am very sorry, sir, " cries Booth, "that you are acquainted with anysuch rascals. I do assure you, rather than I would act such a part, Iwould submit to the hardest sentence that fortune could pronounceagainst me. " "Do as you please, sir, " said Trent; "I have only ventured to adviseyou as a friend. But do you not think your nicety is a little over-scrupulous?" "You will excuse me, sir, " said Booth; "but I think no man can be tooscrupulous in points which concern his honour. " "I know many men of very nice honour, " answered Trent, "who have gonemuch farther; and no man, I am sure, had ever a better excuse for itthan yourself. You will forgive me, Booth, since what I speak proceedsfrom my love to you; nay, indeed, by mentioning your affairs to me, which I am heartily sorry for, you have given me a right to speak. Youknow best what friends you have to depend upon; but, if you have noother pretensions than your merit, I can assure you you would fail, ifit was possible you could have ten times more merit than you have. And, if you love your wife, as I am convinced you do, what must beyour condition in seeing her want the necessaries of life?" "I know my condition is very hard, " cries Booth; "but I have onecomfort in it, which I will never part with, and that is innocence. Asto the mere necessaries of life, however, it is pretty difficult todeprive us of them; this I am sure of, no one can want them long. " "Upon my word, sir, " cries Trent, "I did not know you had been sogreat a philosopher. But, believe me, these matters look much lessterrible at a distance than when they are actually present. You willthen find, I am afraid, that honour hath no more skill in cookery thanShakspear tells us it hath in surgery. D--n me if I don't wish hislordship loved my wife as well as he doth yours, I promise you I wouldtrust her virtue; and, if he should get the better of it, I shouldhave people of fashion enough to keep me in countenance. " Their second bottle being now almost out, Booth, without making anyanswer, called for a bill. Trent pressed very much the drinkinganother bottle, but Booth absolutely refused, and presently afterwardsthey parted, not extremely well satisfied with each other. Theyappeared, indeed, one to the other, in disadvantageous lights of avery different kind. Trent concluded Booth to be a very silly fellow, and Booth began to suspect that Trent was very little better than ascoundrel. Chapter viii. _Contains a letter and other matters_. We will now return to Amelia; to whom, immediately upon her husband'sdeparture to walk with Mr. Trent, a porter brought the followingletter, which she immediately opened and read: "MADAM, --The quick despatch which I have given to your first commandswill I hope assure you of the diligence with which I shall always obeyevery command that you are pleased to honour me with. I have, indeed, in this trifling affair, acted as if my life itself had been at stake;nay, I know not but it may be so; for this insignificant matter, youwas pleased to tell me, would oblige the charming person in whosepower is not only my happiness, but, as I am well persuaded, my lifetoo. Let me reap therefore some little advantage in your eyes, as youhave in mine, from this trifling occasion; for, if anything could addto the charms of which you are mistress, it would be perhaps thatamiable zeal with which you maintain the cause of your friend. I hope, indeed, she will be my friend and advocate with the most lovely of hersex, as I think she hath reason, and as you was pleased to insinuateshe had been. Let me beseech you, madam, let not that dear heart, whose tenderness is so inclined to compassionate the miseries ofothers, be hardened only against the sufferings which itselfoccasions. Let not that man alone have reason to think you cruel, who, of all others, would do the most to procure your kindness. How oftenhave I lived over in my reflections, in my dreams, those two shortminutes we were together! But, alas! how faint are these mimicries ofthe imagination! What would I not give to purchase the reality of suchanother blessing! This, madam, is in your power to bestow on the manwho hath no wish, no will, no fortune, no heart, no life, but what areat your disposal. Grant me only the favour to be at Lady----'sassembly. You can have nothing to fear from indulging me with amoment's sight, a moment's conversation; I will ask no more. I knowyour delicacy, and had rather die than offend it. Could I have seenyou sometimes, I believe the fear of offending you would have kept mylove for ever buried in my own bosom; but, to be totally excluded evenfrom the sight of what my soul doats on is what I cannot bear. It isthat alone which hath extorted the fatal secret from me. Let thatobtain your forgiveness for me. I need not sign this letter otherwisethan with that impression of my heart which I hope it bears; and, toconclude it in any form, no language hath words of devotion strongenough to tell you with what truth, what anguish, what zeal, whatadoration I love you. " Amelia had just strength to hold out to the end, when her tremblinggrew so violent that she dropt the letter, and had probably droptherself, had not Mrs. Atkinson come timely in to support her. "Good Heavens!" cries Mrs. Atkinson, "what is the matter with you, madam?" "I know not what is the matter, " cries Amelia; "but I have received aletter at last from that infamous colonel. " "You will take my opinion again then, I hope, madam, " cries Mrs. Atkinson. "But don't be so affected; the letter cannot eat you or runaway with you. Here it lies, I see; will you give me leave to readit?" "Read it with all my heart, " cries Amelia; "and give me your advicehow to act, for I am almost distracted. " "Heydey!" says Mrs. Atkinson, "here is a piece of parchment too--whatis that?" In truth, this parchment had dropt from the letter whenAmelia first opened it; but her attention was so fixed by the contentsof the letter itself that she had never read the other. Mrs. Atkinsonhad now opened the parchment first; and, after a moment's perusal, thefire flashed from her eyes, and the blood flushed into her cheeks, andshe cried out, in a rapture, "It is a commission for my husband! uponmy soul, it is a commission for my husband:" and, at the same time, began to jump about the room in a kind of frantic fit of joy. "What can be the meaning of all this?" cries Amelia, under the highestdegree of astonishment. "Do not I tell you, my dear madam, " cries she, "that it is acommission for my husband? and can you wonder at my being overjoyed atwhat I know will make him so happy? And now it is all out. The letteris not from the colonel, but from that noble lord of whom I have toldyou so much. But, indeed, madam, I have some pardons to ask of you. However, I know your goodness, and I will tell you all. "You are to know then, madam, that I had not been in the Opera-housesix minutes before a masque came up, and, taking me by the hand, ledme aside. I gave the masque my hand; and, seeing a lady at that timelay hold on Captain Booth, I took that opportunity of slipping awayfrom him; for though, by the help of the squeaking voice, and byattempting to mimic yours, I had pretty well disguised my own, I wasstill afraid, if I had much conversation with your husband, he woulddiscover me. I walked therefore away with this masque to the upper endof the farthest room, where we sat down in a corner together. Hepresently discovered to me that he took me for you, and I soon afterfound out who he was; indeed, so far from attempting to disguisehimself, he spoke in his own voice and in his own person. He now beganto make very violent love to me, but it was rather in the stile of agreat man of the present age than of an Arcadian swain. In short, helaid his whole fortune at my feet, and bade me make whatever terms Ipleased, either for myself or for others. By others, I suppose hemeant your husband. This, however, put a thought into my head ofturning the present occasion to advantage. I told him there were twokinds of persons, the fallaciousness of whose promises had becomeproverbial in the world. These were lovers, and great men. Whatreliance, then, could I have on the promise of one who united inhimself both those characters? That I had seen a melancholy instance, in a very worthy woman of my acquaintance (meaning myself, madam), ofhis want of generosity. I said I knew the obligations that he had tothis woman, and the injuries he had done her, all which I wasconvinced she forgave, for that she had said the handsomest things inthe world of him to me. He answered that he thought he had not beendeficient in generosity to this lady (for I explained to him whom Imeant); but that indeed, if she had spoke well of him to me (meaningyourself, madam), he would not fail to reward her for such anobligation. I then told him she had married a very deserving man, whohad served long in the army abroad as a private man, and who was aserjeant in the guards; that I knew it was so very easy for him to gethim a commission, that I should not think he had any honour orgoodness in the world if he neglected it. I declared this step must bea preliminary to any good opinion he must ever hope for of mine. Ithen professed the greatest friendship to that lady (in which I amconvinced you will think me serious), and assured him he would give meone of the highest pleasures in letting me be the instrument of doingher such a service. He promised me in a moment to do what you see, madam, he hath since done. And to you I shall always think myselfindebted for it. " "I know not how you are indebted to me, " cries Amelia. "Indeed, I amvery glad of any good fortune that can attend poor Atkinson, but Iwish it had been obtained some other way. Good Heavens! what must bethe consequence of this? What must this lord think of me for listeningto his mention of love? nay, for making any terms with him? for whatmust he suppose those terms mean? Indeed, Mrs. Atkinson, you carriedit a great deal too far. No wonder he had the assurance to write to mein the manner he hath done. It is too plain what he conceives of me, and who knows what he may say to others? You may have blown up myreputation by your behaviour. " "How is that possible?" answered Mrs. Atkinson. "Is it not in my powerto clear up all matters? If you will but give me leave to make anappointment in your name I will meet him myself, and declare the wholesecret to him. " "I will consent to no such appointment, " cries Amelia. "I am heartilysorry I ever consented to practise any deceit. I plainly see the truthof what Dr Harrison hath often told me, that, if one steps ever solittle out of the ways of virtue and innocence, we know not how we mayslide, for all the ways of vice are a slippery descent. " "That sentiment, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "is much older than DrHarrison. _Omne vitium in proclivi est. _" "However new or old it is, I find it is true, " cries Amelia--"But, pray, tell me all, though I tremble to hear it. " "Indeed, my dear friend, " said Mrs. Atkinson, "you are terrified atnothing--indeed, indeed, you are too great a prude. " "I do not know what you mean by prudery, " answered Amelia. "I shallnever be ashamed of the strictest regard to decency, to reputation, and to that honour in which the dearest of all human creatures hathhis share. But, pray, give me the letter, there is an expression in itwhich alarmed me when I read it. Pray, what doth he mean by his twoshort minutes, and by purchasing the reality of such anotherblessing?" "Indeed, I know not what he means by two minutes, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "unless he calls two hours so; for we were not together muchless. And as for any blessing he had, I am a stranger to it. Sure, Ihope you have a better opinion of me than to think I granted him thelast favour. " "I don't know what favours you granted him, madam, " answered Ameliapeevishly, "but I am sorry you granted him any in my name. " "Upon my word, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "you use me unkindly, and it isan usage I did not expect at your hands, nor do I know that I havedeserved it. I am sure I went to the masquerade with no other viewthan to oblige you, nor did I say or do anything there which any womanwho is not the most confounded prude upon earth would have started aton a much less occasion than what induced me. Well, I declare upon mysoul then, that, if I was a man, rather than be married to a woman whomakes such a fuss with her virtue, I would wish my wife was withoutsuch a troublesome companion. " "Very possibly, madam, these may be your sentiments, " cries Amelia, "and I hope they are the sentiments of your husband. " "I desire, madam, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "you would not reflect on myhusband. He is a worthy man and as brave a man as yours; yes, madam, and he is now as much a captain. " She spoke those words with so loud a voice, that Atkinson, who wasaccidentally going up-stairs, heard them; and, being surprized at theangry tone of his wife's voice, he entered the room, and, with a lookof much astonishment, begged to know what was the matter. "The matter, my dear, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "is that I have got acommission for you, and your good old friend here is angry with me forgetting it. " "I have not spirits enow, " cries Amelia, "to answer you as youdeserve; and, if I had, you are below my anger. " "I do not know, Mrs. Booth, " answered the other, "whence this greatsuperiority over me is derived; but, if your virtue gives it you, Iwould have you to know, madam, that I despise a prude as much as youcan do a----. " "Though you have several times, " cries Amelia, "insulted me with thatword, I scorn to give you any ill language in return. If you deserveany bad appellation, you know it, without my telling it you. " Poor Atkinson, who was more frightened than he had ever been in hislife, did all he could to procure peace. He fell upon his knees to hiswife, and begged her to compose herself; for indeed she seemed to bein a most furious rage. While he was in this posture Booth, who had knocked so gently at thedoor, for fear of disturbing his wife, that he had not been heard inthe tempest, came into the room. The moment Amelia saw him, the tearswhich had been gathering for some time, burst in a torrent from hereyes, which, however, she endeavoured to conceal with herhandkerchief. The entry of Booth turned all in an instant into asilent picture, in which the first figure which struck the eyes of thecaptain was the serjeant on his knees to his wife. Booth immediately cried, "What's the meaning of this?" but received noanswer. He then cast his eyes towards Amelia, and, plainly discerningher condition, he ran to her, and in a very tender phrase begged toknow what was the matter. To which she answered, "Nothing, my dear, nothing of any consequence. " He replied that he would know, and thenturned to Atkinson, and asked the same question. Atkinson answered, "Upon my honour, sir, I know nothing of it. Something hath passed between madam and my wife; but what it is I knowno more than your honour. " "Your wife, " said Mrs. Atkinson, "hath used me cruelly ill, Mr. Booth. If you must be satisfied, that is the whole matter. " Booth rapt out a great oath, and cried, "It is impossible; my wife isnot capable of using any one ill. " Amelia then cast herself upon her knees to her husband, and cried, "For Heaven's sake do not throw yourself into a passion--some fewwords have past--perhaps I may be in the wrong. " "Damnation seize me if I think so!" cries Booth. "And I wish whoeverhath drawn these tears from your eyes may pay it with as many drops oftheir heart's blood. " "You see, madam, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "you have your bully to takeyour part; so I suppose you will use your triumph. " Amelia made no answer, but still kept hold of Booth, who, in a violentrage, cried out, "My Amelia triumph over such a wretch as thee!--Whatcan lead thy insolence to such presumption! Serjeant, I desire you'lltake that monster out of the room, or I cannot answer for myself. " The serjeant was beginning to beg his wife to retire (for he perceivedvery plainly that she had, as the phrase is, taken a sip too much thatevening) when, with a rage little short of madness, she cried out, "And do you tamely see me insulted in such a manner, now that you area gentleman, and upon a footing with him?" "It is lucky for us all, perhaps, " answered Booth, "that he is not myequal. " "You lie, sirrah, " said Mrs. Atkinson; "he is every way your equal; heis as good a gentleman as yourself, and as much an officer. No, Iretract what I say; he hath not the spirit of a gentleman, nor of aman neither, or he would not bear to see his wife insulted. " "Let me beg of you, my dear, " cries the serjeant, "to go with me andcompose yourself. " "Go with thee, thou wretch!" cries she, looking with the utmostdisdain upon him; "no, nor ever speak to thee more. " At which wordsshe burst out of the room, and the serjeant, without saying a word, followed her. A very tender and pathetic scene now passed between Booth and hiswife, in which, when she was a little composed, she related to him thewhole story. For, besides that it was not possible for her otherwiseto account for the quarrel which he had seen, Booth was now possessedof the letter that lay on the floor. Amelia, having emptied her mind to her husband, and obtained hisfaithful promise that he would not resent the affair to my lord, waspretty well composed, and began to relent a little towards Mrs. Atkinson; but Booth was so highly incensed with her, that he declaredhe would leave her house the next morning; which they both accordinglydid, and immediately accommodated themselves with convenientapartments within a few doors of their friend the doctor. Chapter ix. _Containing some things worthy observation. _ Notwithstanding the exchange of his lodgings, Booth did not forget tosend an excuse to Mr. Trent, of whose conversation he had taken a fullsurfeit the preceding evening. That day in his walks Booth met with an old brother-officer, who hadserved with him at Gibraltar, and was on half-pay as well as himself. He had not, indeed, had the fortune of being broke with his regiment, as was Booth, but had gone out, as they call it, on half-pay as alieutenant, a rank to which he had risen in five-and-thirty years. This honest gentleman, after some discourse with Booth, desired him tolend him half-a-crown, which he assured him he would faithfully paythe next day, when he was to receive some money for his sister. Thesister was the widow of an officer that had been killed in the sea-service; and she and her brother lived together, on their joint stock, out of which they maintained likewise an old mother and two of thesister's children, the eldest of which was about nine years old. "Youmust know, " said the old lieutenant, "I have been disappointed thismorning by an old scoundrel, who wanted fifteen per cent, foradvancing my sister's pension; but I have now got an honest fellow whohath promised it me to-morrow at ten per cent. " "And enough too, of all conscience, " cries Booth. "Why, indeed, I think so too, " answered the other; "considering it issure to be paid one time or other. To say the truth, it is a littlehard the government doth not pay those pensions better; for mysister's hath been due almost these two years; that is my way ofthinking. " Booth answered he was ashamed to refuse him such a sum; but, "Upon mysoul, " said he, "I have not a single halfpenny in my pocket; for I amin a worse condition, if possible, than yourself; for I have lost allmy money, and, what is worse, I owe Mr. Trent, whom you remember atGibraltar, fifty pounds. " "Remember him! yes, d--n him! I remember him very well, " cries the oldgentleman, "though he will not remember me. He is grown so great nowthat he will not speak to his old acquaintance; and yet I should beashamed of myself to be great in such a manner. " "What manner do you mean?" cries Booth, a little eagerly. "Why, by pimping, " answered the other; "he is pimp in ordinary to myLord----, who keeps his family; or how the devil he lives else I don'tknow, for his place is not worth three hundred pounds a year, and heand his wife spend a thousand at least. But she keeps an assembly, which, I believe, if you was to call a bawdy-house, you would notmisname it. But d--n me if I had not rather be an honest man, and walkon foot, with holes in my shoes, as I do now, or go without a dinner, as I and all my family will today, than ride in a chariot and feast bysuch means. I am honest Bob Bound, and always will be; that's my wayof thinking; and there's no man shall call me otherwise; for if hedoth, I will knock him down for a lying rascal; that is my way ofthinking. " "And a very good way of thinking too, " cries Booth. "However, youshall not want a dinner to-day; for if you will go home with me, Iwill lend you a crown with all my heart. " "Lookee, " said the old man, "if it be anywise inconvenient to you Iwill not have it; for I will never rob another man of his dinner toeat myself--that is my way of thinking. " "Pooh!" said Booth; "never mention such a trifle twice between you andme. Besides, you say you can pay it me to-morrow; and I promise youthat will be the same thing. " They then walked together to Booth's lodgings, where Booth, fromAmelia's pocket, gave his friend double the little sum he had asked. Upon which the old gentleman shook him heartily by the hand, and, repeating his intention of paying him the next day, made the best ofhis way to a butcher's, whence he carried off a leg of mutton to afamily that had lately kept Lent without any religious merit. When he was gone Amelia asked her husband who that old gentleman was?Booth answered he was one of the scandals of his country; that theDuke of Marlborough had about thirty years before made him an ensignfrom a private man for very particular merit; and that he had not longsince gone out of the army with a broken heart, upon having severalboys put over his head. He then gave her an account of his family, which he had heard from the old gentleman in their way to his house, and with which we have already in a concise manner acquainted thereader. "Good Heavens!" cries Amelia; "what are our great men made of? arethey in reality a distinct species from the rest of mankind? are theyborn without hearts?" "One would, indeed, sometimes, " cries Booth, "be inclined to think so. In truth, they have no perfect idea of those common distresses ofmankind which are far removed from their own sphere. Compassion, ifthoroughly examined, will, I believe, appear to be the fellow-feelingonly of men of the same rank and degree of life for one another, onaccount of the evils to which they themselves are liable. Oursensations are, I am afraid, very cold towards those who are at agreat distance from us, and whose calamities can consequently neverreach us. " "I remember, " cries Amelia, "a sentiment of Dr Harrison's, which hetold me was in some Latin book; _I am a man myself, and my heart isinterested in whatever can befal the rest of mankind_. That is thesentiment of a good man, and whoever thinks otherwise is a bad one. " "I have often told you, my dear Emily, " cries Booth, "that all men, aswell the best as the worst, act alike from the principle of self-love. Where benevolence therefore is the uppermost passion, self-lovedirects you to gratify it by doing good, and by relieving thedistresses of others; for they are then in reality your own. But whereambition, avarice, pride, or any other passion, governs the man andkeeps his benevolence down, the miseries of all other men affect himno more than they would a stock or a stone. And thus the man and hisstatue have often the same degree of feeling or compassion. " "I have often wished, my dear, " cries Amelia, "to hear you conversewith Dr Harrison on this subject; for I am sure he would convince you, though I can't, that there are really such things as religion andvirtue. " This was not the first hint of this kind which Amelia had given; forshe sometimes apprehended from his discourse that he was little betterthan an atheist: a consideration which did not diminish her affectionfor him, but gave her great uneasiness. On all such occasions Boothimmediately turned the discourse to some other subject; for, though hehad in other points a great opinion of his wife's capacity, yet as adivine or a philosopher he did not hold her in a very respectablelight, nor did he lay any great stress on her sentiments in suchmatters. He now, therefore, gave a speedy turn to the conversation, and began to talk of affairs below the dignity of this history. BOOK XL Chapter i. _Containing a very polite scene. _ We will now look back to some personages who, though not the principalcharacters in this history, have yet made too considerable a figure init to be abruptly dropt: and these are Colonel James and his lady. This fond couple never met till dinner the day after the masquerade, when they happened to be alone together in an antechamber before thearrival of the rest of the company. The conversation began with the colonel's saying, "I hope, madam, yougot no cold last night at the masquerade. " To which the lady answeredby much the same kind of question. They then sat together near five minutes without opening their mouthsto each other. At last Mrs. James said, "Pray, sir, who was thatmasque with you in the dress of a shepherdess? How could you exposeyourself by walking with such a trollop in public; for certainly nowoman of any figure would appear there in such a dress? You know, Mr. James, I never interfere with your affairs; but I would, methinks, formy own sake, if I was you, preserve a little decency in the face ofthe world. " "Upon my word, " said James, "I do not know whom you mean. A woman insuch a dress might speak to me for aught I know. A thousand peoplespeak to me at a masquerade. But, I promise you, I spoke to no womanacquaintance there that I know of. Indeed, I now recollect there was awoman in a dress of a shepherdess; and there was another aukward thingin a blue domino that plagued me a little, but I soon got rid ofthem. " "And I suppose you do not know the lady in the blue domino neither?" "Not I, I assure you, " said James. "But pray, why do you ask me thesequestions? it looks so like jealousy. " "Jealousy!" cries she; "I jealous! no, Mr. James, I shall never bejealous, I promise you, especially of the lady in the blue domino;for, to my knowledge, she despises you of all human race. " "I am heartily glad of it, " said James; "for I never saw such a tallaukward monster in my life. " "That is a very cruel way of telling me you knew me. " "You, madam!" said James; "you was in a black domino. " "It is not so unusual a thing, I believe, you yourself know, to changedresses. I own I did it to discover some of your tricks. I did notthink you could have distinguished the tall aukward monster so well. " "Upon my soul, " said James, "if it was you I did not even suspect it;so you ought not to be offended at what I have said ignorantly. " "Indeed, sir, " cries she, "you cannot offend me by anything you cansay to my face; no, by my soul, I despise you too much. But I wish, Mr. James, you would not make me the subject of your conversationamongst your wenches. I desire I may not be afraid of meeting them forfear of their insults; that I may not be told by a dirty trollop youmake me the subject of your wit amongst them, of which, it seems, I amthe favourite topic. Though you have married a tall aukward monster, Mr. James, I think she hath a right to be treated, as your wife, withrespect at least: indeed, I shall never require any more; indeed, Mr. James, I never shall. I think a wife hath a title to that. " "Who told you this, madam?" said James. "Your slut, " said she; "your wench, your shepherdess. " "By all that's sacred!" cries James, "I do not know who theshepherdess was. " "By all that's sacred then, " says she, "she told me so, and I amconvinced she told me truth. But I do not wonder at you denying it;for that is equally consistent with honour as to behave in such amanner to a wife who is a gentlewoman. I hope you will allow me that, sir. Because I had not quite so great a fortune I hope you do notthink me beneath you, or that you did me any honour in marrying me. Iam come of as good a family as yourself, Mr. James; and if my brotherknew how you treated me he would not bear it. " "Do you threaten me with your brother, madam?" said James. "I will not be ill-treated, sir, " answered she. "Nor I neither, madam, " cries he; "and therefore I desire you willprepare to go into the country to-morrow morning. " "Indeed, sir, " said she, "I shall not. " "By heavens! madam, but you shall, " answered he: "I will have my coachat the door to-morrow morning by seven; and you shall either go intoit or be carried. " "I hope, sir, you are not in earnest, " said she. "Indeed, madam, " answered he, "but I am in earnest, and resolved; andinto the country you go to-morrow. " "But why into the country, " said she, "Mr. James? Why will you be sobarbarous to deny me the pleasures of the town?" "Because you interfere with my pleasures, " cried James, "which I havetold you long ago I would not submit to. It is enough for fond couplesto have these scenes together. I thought we had been upon a betterfooting, and had cared too little for each other to become mutualplagues. I thought you had been satisfied with the full liberty ofdoing what you pleased. " "So I am; I defy you to say I have ever given you any uneasiness. " "How!" cries he; "have you not just now upbraided me with what youheard at the masquerade?" "I own, " said she, "to be insulted by such a creature to my face stungme to the soul. I must have had no spirit to bear the insults of suchan animal. Nay, she spoke of you with equal contempt. Whoever she is, I promise you Mr. Booth is her favourite. But, indeed, she is unworthyany one's regard, for she behaved like an arrant dragoon. " "Hang her!" cries the colonel, "I know nothing of her. " "Well, but, Mr. James, I am sure you will not send me into thecountry. Indeed I will not go into the country. " "If you was a reasonable woman, " cries James, "perhaps I should notdesire it. And on one consideration--" "Come, name your consideration, " said she. "Let me first experience your discernment, " said he. "Come, Molly, letme try your judgment. Can you guess at any woman of your acquaintancethat I like?" "Sure, " said she, "it cannot be Mrs. Booth!" "And why not Mrs. Booth?" answered he. "Is she not the finest woman inthe world?" "Very far from it, " replied she, "in my opinion. " "Pray what faults, " said he, "can you find in her?" "In the first place, " cries Mrs. James, "her eyes are too large; andshe hath a look with them that I don't know how to describe; but Iknow I don't like it. Then her eyebrows are too large; therefore, indeed, she doth all in her power to remedy this with her pincers; forif it was not for those her eyebrows would be preposterous. Then hernose, as well proportioned as it is, has a visible scar on one side. Her neck, likewise, is too protuberant for the genteel size, especially as she laces herself; for no woman, in my opinion, can begenteel who is not entirely flat before. And, lastly, she is both tooshort and too tall. Well, you may laugh, Mr. James, I know what Imean, though I cannot well express it: I mean that she is too tall fora pretty woman and too short for a fine woman. There is such a thingas a kind of insipid medium--a kind of something that is neither onething nor another. I know not how to express it more clearly; but whenI say such a one is a pretty woman, a pretty thing, a pretty creature, you know very well I mean a little woman; and when I say such a one isa very fine woman, a very fine person of a woman, to be sure I mustmean a tall woman. Now a woman that is between both is certainlyneither the one nor the other. " "Well, I own, " said he, "you have explained yourself with greatdexterity; but, with all these imperfections, I cannot help likingher. " "That you need not tell me, Mr. James, " answered the lady, "for that Iknew before you desired me to invite her to your house. Andnevertheless, did not I, like an obedient wife, comply with yourdesires? did I make any objection to the party you proposed for themasquerade, though I knew very well your motive? what can the best ofwives do more? to procure you success is not in my power; and, if Imay give you my opinion, I believe you will never succeed with her. " "Is her virtue so very impregnable?" said he, with a sneer. "Her virtue, " answered Mrs. James, "hath the best guard in the world, which is a most violent love for her husband. " "All pretence and affectation, " cries the colonel. "It is impossibleshe should have so little taste, or indeed so little delicacy, as tolike such a fellow. " "Nay, I do not much like him myself, " said she. "He is not indeed atall such a sort of man as I should like; but I thought he had beengenerally allowed to be handsome. " "He handsome!" cries James. "What, with a nose like the proboscis ofan elephant, with the shoulders of a porter, and the legs of achairman? The fellow hath not in the least the look of a gentleman, and one would rather think he had followed the plough than the campall his life. " "Nay, now I protest, " said she, "I think you do him injustice. He isgenteel enough in my opinion. It is true, indeed, he is not quite ofthe most delicate make; but, whatever he is, I am convinced she thinkshim the finest man in the world. " "I cannot believe it, " answered he peevishly; "but will you invite herto dinner here to-morrow?" "With all my heart, and as often as you please, " answered she. "But Ihave some favours to ask of you. First, I must hear no more of goingout of town till I please. " "Very well, " cries he. "In the next place, " said she, "I must have two hundred guineas withinthese two or three days. " "Well, I agree to that too, " answered he. "And when I do go out of town, I go to Tunbridge--I insist upon that;and from Tunbridge I go to Bath--positively to Bath. And I promise youfaithfully I will do all in my power to carry Mrs. Booth with me. " "On that condition, " answered he, "I promise you you shall go whereveryou please. And, to shew you, I will even prevent your wishes by mygenerosity; as soon as I receive the five thousand pounds which I amgoing to take up on one of my estates, you shall have two hundredmore. " She thanked him with a low curtesie; and he was in such good humourthat he offered to kiss her. To this kiss she coldly turned her cheek, and then, flirting her fan, said, "Mr. James, there is one thing Iforgot to mention to you--I think you intended to get a commission insome regiment abroad for this young man. Now if you would take myadvice, I know this will not oblige his wife; and, besides, I ampositive she resolves to go with him. But, if you can provide for himin some regiment at home, I know she will dearly love you for it, andwhen he is ordered to quarters she will be left behind; and Yorkshireor Scotland, I think, is as good a distance as either of the Indies. " "Well, I will do what I can, " answered James; "but I cannot askanything yet; for I got two places of a hundred a year each for two ofmy footmen, within this fortnight. " At this instant a violent knock at the door signified the arrival oftheir company, upon which both husband and wife put on their bestlooks to receive their guests; and, from their behaviour to each otherduring the rest of the day, a stranger might have concluded he hadbeen in company with the fondest couple in the universe. Chapter ii. _Matters political. _ Before we return to Booth we will relate a scene in which Dr Harrisonwas concerned. This good man, whilst in the country, happened to be in theneighbourhood of a nobleman of his acquaintance, and whom he knew tohave very considerable interest with the ministers at that time. The doctor, who was very well known to this nobleman, took thisopportunity of paying him a visit in order to recommend poor Booth tohis favour. Nor did he much doubt of his success, the favour he was toask being a very small one, and to which he thought the service ofBooth gave him so just a title. The doctor's name soon gained him an admission to the presence of thisgreat man, who, indeed, received him with much courtesy andpoliteness; not so much, perhaps, from any particular regard to thesacred function, nor from any respect to the doctor's personal merit, as from some considerations which the reader will perhaps guess anon. After many ceremonials, and some previous discourse on differentsubjects, the doctor opened the business, and told the great man thathe was come to him to solicit a favour for a young gentleman who hadbeen an officer in the army and was now on half-pay. "All the favour Iask, my lord, " said he, "is, that this gentleman may be again admitted_ad_ _eundem_. I am convinced your lordship will do me the justice tothink I would not ask for a worthless person; but, indeed, the youngman I mean hath very extraordinary merit. He was at the siege ofGibraltar, in which he behaved with distinguished bravery, and wasdangerously wounded at two several times in the service of hiscountry. I will add that he is at present in great necessity, and hatha wife and several children, for whom he hath no other means ofproviding; and, if it will recommend him farther to your lordship'sfavour, his wife, I believe, is one of the best and worthiest of allher sex. " "As to that, my dear doctor, " cries the nobleman, "I shall make nodoubt. Indeed any service I shall do the gentleman will be upon youraccount. As to necessity, it is the plea of so many that it isimpossible to serve them all. And with regard to the personal merit ofthese inferior officers, I believe I need not tell you that it is verylittle regarded. But if you recommend him, let the person be what hewill, I am convinced it will be done; for I know it is in your powerat present to ask for a greater matter than this. " "I depend entirely upon your lordship, " answered the doctor. "Indeed, my worthy friend, " replied the lord, "I will not take a meritto myself which will so little belong to me. You are to depend onyourself. It falls out very luckily too at this time, when you have itin your power so greatly to oblige us. " "What, my lord, is in my power?" cries the doctor. "You certainly know, " answered his lordship, "how hard ColonelTrompington is run at your town in the election of a mayor; they tellme it will be a very near thing unless you join us. But we know it isin your power to do the business, and turn the scale. I heard yourname mentioned the other day on that account, and I know you may haveanything in reason if you will give us your interest. " "Sure, my lord, " cries the doctor, "you are not in earnest in askingmy interest for the colonel?" "Indeed I am, " answered the peer; "why should you doubt it?" "For many reasons, " answered the doctor. "First, I am an old friendand acquaintance of Mr. Fairfield, as your lordship, I believe, verywell knows. The little interest, therefore, that I have, you may beassured, will go in his favour. Indeed, I do not concern myself deeplyin these affairs, for I do not think it becomes my cloth so to do. But, as far as I think it decent to interest myself, it will certainlybe on the side of Mr. Fairfield. Indeed, I should do so if I wasacquainted with both the gentlemen only by reputation; the one being aneighbouring gentleman of a very large estate, a very sober andsensible man, of known probity and attachment to the true interest ofhis country; the other is a mere stranger, a boy, a soldier offortune, and, as far as I can discern from the little conversation Ihave had with him, of a very shallow capacity, and no education. " "No education, my dear friend!" cries the nobleman. "Why, he hath beeneducated in half the courts of Europe. " "Perhaps so, my lord, " answered the doctor; "but I shall always be sogreat a pedant as to call a man of no learning a man of no education. And, from my own knowledge, I can aver that I am persuaded there isscarce a foot-soldier in the army who is more illiterate than thecolonel. " "Why, as to Latin and Greek, you know, " replied the lord, "they arenot much required in the army. " "It may be so, " said the doctor. "Then let such persons keep to theirown profession. It is a very low civil capacity indeed for which anilliterate man can be qualified. And, to speak a plain truth, if yourlordship is a friend to the colonel, you would do well to advise himto decline an attempt in which I am certain he hath no probability ofsuccess. " "Well, sir, " said the lord, "if you are resolved against us, I mustdeal as freely with you, and tell you plainly I cannot serve you inyour affair. Nay, it will be the best thing I can do to hold mytongue; for, if I should mention his name with your recommendationafter what you have said, he would perhaps never get provided for aslong as he lives. " "Is his own merit, then, my lord, no recommendation?" cries thedoctor. "My dear, dear sir, " cries the other, "what is the merit of asubaltern officer?" "Surely, my lord, " cries the doctor, "it is the merit which shouldrecommend him to the post of a subaltern officer. And it is a meritwhich will hereafter qualify him to serve his country in a highercapacity. And I do assure of this young man, that he hath not only agood heart but a good head too. And I have been told by those who arejudges that he is, for his age, an excellent officer. " "Very probably!" cries my lord. "And there are abundance with the samemerit and the same qualifications who want a morsel of bread forthemselves and their families. " "It is an infamous scandal on the nation, " cries the doctor; "and I amheartily sorry it can be said even with a colour of truth. " "How can it be otherwise?" says the peer. "Do you think it is possibleto provide for all men of merit?" "Yes, surely do I, " said the doctor; "and very easily too. " "How, pray?" cries the lord. "Upon my word, I shall be glad to know. " "Only by not providing for those who have none. The men of merit inany capacity are not, I am afraid, so extremely numerous that we needstarve any of them, unless we wickedly suffer a set of worthlessfellows to eat their bread. " "This is all mere Utopia, " cries his lordship; "the chimerical systemof Plato's commonwealth, with which we amused ourselves at theuniversity; politics which are inconsistent with the state of humanaffairs. " "Sure, my lord, " cries the doctor, "we have read of states where suchdoctrines have been put in practice. What is your lordship's opinionof Rome in the earlier ages of the commonwealth, of Sparta, and evenof Athens itself in some periods of its history?" "Indeed, doctor, " cries the lord, "all these notions are obsolete andlong since exploded. To apply maxims of government drawn from theGreek and Roman histories to this nation is absurd and impossible. But, if you will have Roman examples, fetch them from those times ofthe republic that were most like our own. Do you not know, doctor, that this is as corrupt a nation as ever existed under the sun? Andwould you think of governing such a people by the strict principles ofhonesty and morality?" "If it be so corrupt, " said the doctor, "I think it is high time toamend it: or else it is easy to foresee that Roman and British libertywill have the same fate; for corruption in the body politic asnaturally tends to dissolution as in the natural body. " "I thank you for your simile, " cries my lord; "for, in the naturalbody, I believe, you will allow there is the season of youth, theseason of manhood, and the season of old age; and that, when the lastof these arrives, it will be an impossible attempt by all the means ofart to restore the body again to its youth, or to the vigour of itsmiddle age. The same periods happen to every great kingdom. In itsyouth it rises by arts and arms to power and prosperity. This itenjoys and flourishes with a while; and then it may be said to be inthe vigour of its age, enriched at home with all the emoluments andblessings of peace, and formidable abroad with all the terrors of war. At length this very prosperity introduces corruption, and then comeson its old age. Virtue and learning, art and industry, decay bydegrees. The people sink into sloth and luxury and prostitution. It isenervated at home--becomes contemptible abroad; and such indeed is itsmisery and wretchedness, that it resembles a man in the last decrepitstage of life, who looks with unconcern at his approachingdissolution. " "This is a melancholy picture indeed, " cries the doctor; "and, if thelatter part of it can be applied to our case, I see nothing butreligion, which would have prevented this decrepit state of theconstitution, should prevent a man of spirit from hanging himself outof the way of so wretched a contemplation. " "Why so?" said the peer; "why hang myself, doctor? Would it not bewiser, think you, to make the best of your time, and the most you can, in such a nation?" "And is religion, then, to be really laid out of the question?" criesthe doctor. "If I am to speak my own opinion, sir, " answered the peer, "you know Ishall answer in the negative. But you are too well acquainted with theworld to be told that the conduct of politicians is not formed uponthe principles of religion. " "I am very sorry for it, " cries the doctor; "but I will talk to themthen of honour and honesty; this is a language which I hope they willat least pretend to understand. Now to deny a man the preferment whichhe merits, and to give it to another man who doth not merit it, is amanifest act of injustice, and is consequently inconsistent with bothhonour and honesty. Nor is it only an act of injustice to the manhimself, but to the public, for whose good principally all publicoffices are, or ought to be, instituted. Now this good can never becompleted nor obtained but by employing all persons according to theircapacities. Wherever true merit is liable to be superseded by favourand partiality, and men are intrusted with offices without any regardto capacity or integrity, the affairs of that state will always be ina deplorable situation. Such, as Livy tells us, was the state of Capuaa little before its final destruction, and the consequence yourlordship well knows. But, my lord, there is another mischief whichattends this kind of injustice, and that is, it hath a manifesttendency to destroy all virtue and all ability among the people, bytaking away all that encouragement and incentive which should promoteemulation and raise men to aim at excelling in any art, science, orprofession. Nor can anything, my lord, contribute more to render anation contemptible among its neighbours; for what opinion can othercountries have of the councils, or what terror can they conceive ofthe arms, of such a people? and it was chiefly owing to the avoidingthis error that Oliver Cromwell carried the reputation of Englandhigher than it ever was at any other time. I will add only oneargument more, and that is founded on the most narrow and selfishsystem of politics; and this is, that such a conduct is sure to createuniversal discontent and grumbling at home; for nothing can bring mento rest satisfied, when they see others preferred to them, but anopinion that they deserved that elevation; for, as one of the greatestmen this country ever produced observes, One worthless man that gains what he pretends Disgusts a thousand unpretending friends. With what heart-burnings then must any nation see themselves obligedto contribute to the support of a set of men of whose incapacity toserve them they are well apprized, and who do their country a doublediskindness, by being themselves employed in posts to which they areunequal, and by keeping others out of those employments for which theyare qualified!" "And do you really think, doctor, " cries the nobleman, "that anyminister could support himself in this country upon such principles asyou recommend? Do you think he would be able to baffle an oppositionunless he should oblige his friends by conferring places oftencontrary to his own inclinations and his own opinion?" "Yes, really do I, " cries the doctor. "Indeed, if a minister isresolved to make good his confession in the liturgy, _by leavingundone all those things which he ought to have done, and by doing allthose things which he ought not to have done, _ such a minister, Igrant, will be obliged to baffle opposition, as you are pleased toterm it, by these arts; for, as Shakespeare somewhere says, Things ill begun strengthen themselves by ill. But if, on the contrary, he will please to consider the true interestof his country, and that only in great and national points; if he willengage his country in neither alliances nor quarrels but where it isreally interested; if he will raise no money but what is wanted, noremploy any civil or military officers but what are useful, and placein these employments men of the highest integrity, and of the greatestabilities; if he will employ some few of his hours to advance ourtrade, and some few more to regulate our domestic government; if hewould do this, my lord, I will answer for it, he shall either have noopposition to baffle, or he shall baffle it by a fair appeal to hisconduct. Such a minister may, in the language of the law, put himselfon his country when he pleases, and he shall come off with honour andapplause. " "And do you really believe, doctor, " cries the peer, "there ever wassuch a minister, or ever will be?" "Why not, my lord?" answered the doctor. "It requires no veryextraordinary parts, nor any extraordinary degree of virtue. He needpractise no great instances of self-denial. He shall have power, andhonour, and riches, and, perhaps, all in a much greater degree than hecan ever acquire by pursuing a contrary system. He shall have more ofeach and much more of safety. " "Pray, doctor, " said my lord, " let me ask you one simple question. Doyou really believe any man upon earth was ever a rogue out of choice?" "Really, my lord, " says the doctor, "I am ashamed to answer in theaffirmative; and yet I am afraid experience would almost justify me ifI should. Perhaps the opinion of the world may sometimes mislead mento think those measures necessary which in reality are not so. Or thetruth may be, that a man of good inclinations finds his office filledwith such corruption by the iniquity of his predecessors, that he maydespair of being capable of purging it; and so sits down contented, asAugeas did with the filth of his stables, not because he thought themthe better, or that such filth was really necessary to a stable, butthat he despaired of sufficient force to cleanse them. " "I will ask you one question more, and I have done, " said thenobleman. "Do you imagine that if any minister was really as good asyou would have him, that the people in general would believe that hewas so?" "Truly, my lord, " said the doctor, "I think they may be justified innot believing too hastily. But I beg leave to answer your lordship'squestion by another. Doth your lordship believe that the people ofGreenland, when they see the light of the sun and feel his warmth, after so long a season of cold and darkness, will really be persuadedthat he shines upon them?" My lord smiled at the conceit; and then the doctor took an opportunityto renew his suit, to which his lordship answered, "He would promisenothing, and could give him no hopes of success; but you may beassured, " said he, with a leering countenance, "I shall do him all theservice in my power. " A language which the doctor well understood; andsoon after took a civil, but not a very ceremonious leave. Chapter iii. _The history of Mr. Trent. _ We will now return to Mr. Booth and his wife. The former had spent histime very uneasily ever since he had discovered what sort of man hewas indebted to; but, lest he should forget it, Mr. Trent thought nowproper to remind him in the following letter, which he read the nextmorning after he had put off the appointment. "SIR, --I am sorry the necessity of my affairs obliges me to mentionthat small sum which I had the honour to lend you the other night atplay; and which I shall be much obliged to you if you will let me havesome time either to-day or to-morrow. I am, sir, Your most obedient, most humble servant, GEORGE TRENT. " This letter a little surprized Booth, after the genteel, and, indeed, as it appeared, generous behaviour of Trent. But lest it should havethe same effect upon the reader, we will now proceed to account forthis, as well as for some other phenomena that have appeared in thishistory, and which, perhaps, we shall be forgiven for not havingopened more largely before. Mr. Trent then was a gentleman possibly of a good family, for it wasnot certain whence he sprung on the father's side. His mother, who wasthe only parent he ever knew or heard of, was a single gentlewoman, and for some time carried on the trade of a milliner in Covent-garden. She sent her son, at the age of eight years old, to a charity-school, where he remained till he was of the age of fourteen, without makingany great proficiency in learning. Indeed it is not very probable heshould; for the master, who, in preference to a very learned andproper man, was chosen by a party into this school, the salary ofwhich was upwards of a hundred pounds a-year, had himself nevertravelled through the Latin Grammar, and was, in truth, a mostconsummate blockhead. At the age of fifteen Mr. Trent was put clerk to an attorney, where heremained a very short time before he took leave of his master; rather, indeed, departed without taking leave; and, having broke open hismother's escritore, and carried off with him all the valuable effectshe there found, to the amount of about fifty pounds, he marched off tosea, and went on board a merchantman, whence he was afterwards pressedinto a man of war. In this service he continued above three years; during which time hebehaved so ill in his moral character that he twice underwent a verysevere discipline for thefts in which he was detected; but at the sametime, he behaved so well as a sailor in an engagement with somepirates, that he wiped off all former scores, and greatly recommendedhimself to his captain. At his return home, he being then about twenty years of age, he foundthat the attorney had in his absence married his mother, had buriedher, and secured all her effects, to the amount, as he was informed, of about fifteen hundred pound. Trent applied to his stepfather, butto no purpose; the attorney utterly disowned him, nor would he sufferhim to come a second time within his doors. It happened that the attorney had, by a former wife, an only daughter, a great favourite, who was about the same age with Trent himself, andhad, during his residence at her father's house, taken a very greatliking to this young fellow, who was extremely handsome and perfectlywell made. This her liking was not, during his absence, so farextinguished but that it immediately revived on his return. Of thisshe took care to give Mr. Trent proper intimation; for she was not oneof those backward and delicate ladies who can die rather than make thefirst overture. Trent was overjoyed at this, and with reason, for shewas a very lovely girl in her person, the only child of a rich father;and the prospect of so complete a revenge on the attorney charmed himabove all the rest. To be as short in the matter as the parties, amarriage was soon consummated between them. The attorney at first raged and was implacable; but at last fondnessfor his daughter so far overcame resentment that he advanced a sum ofmoney to buy his son-in-law (for now he acknowledged him as such) anensign's commission in a marching regiment then ordered to Gibraltar;at which place the attorney heartily hoped that Trent might be knockedon the head; for in that case he thought he might marry his daughtermore agreeably to his own ambition and to her advantage. The regiment into which Trent purchased was the same with that inwhich Booth likewise served; the one being an ensign, and the other alieutenant, in the two additional companies. Trent had no blemish in his military capacity. Though he had had butan indifferent education, he was naturally sensible and genteel, andNature, as we have said, had given him a very agreeable person. He waslikewise a very bold fellow, and, as he really behaved himself everyway well enough while he was at Gibraltar, there was some degree ofintimacy between him and Booth. When the siege was over, and the additional companies were againreduced, Trent returned to his wife, who received him with great joyand affection. Soon after this an accident happened which proved theutter ruin of his father-in-law, and ended in breaking his heart. Thiswas nothing but making a mistake pretty common at this day, of writinganother man's name to a deed instead of his own. In truth this matterwas no less than what the law calls forgery, and was just then madecapital by an act of parliament. From this offence, indeed, theattorney was acquitted, by not admitting the proof of the party, whowas to avoid his own deed by his evidence, and therefore no witness, according to those excellent rules called the law of evidence; a lawvery excellently calculated for the preservation of the lives of hismajesty's roguish subjects, and most notably used for that purpose. But though by common law the attorney was honourably acquitted, yet, as common sense manifested to every one that he was guilty, heunhappily lost his reputation, and of consequence his business; thechagrin of which latter soon put an end to his life. This prosecution had been attended with a very great expence; for, besides the ordinary costs of avoiding the gallows by the help of thelaw, there was a very high article, of no less than a thousand pounds, paid down to remove out of the way a witness against whom there was nolegal exception. The poor gentleman had besides suffered some lossesin business; so that, to the surprize of all his acquaintance, whenhis debts were paid there remained no more than a small estate offourscore pounds a-year, which he settled upon his daughter, far outof the reach of her husband, and about two hundred pounds in money. The old gentleman had not long been in his grave before Trent sethimself to consider seriously of the state of his affairs. He hadlately begun to look on his wife with a much less degree of liking anddesire than formerly; for he was one of those who think too much ofone thing is good for nothing. Indeed, he had indulged thesespeculations so far, that I believe his wife, though one of theprettiest women in town, was the last subject that he would have chosefor any amorous dalliance. Many other persons, however, greatly differed from him in his opinion. Amongst the rest was the illustrious peer of amorous memory. Thisnoble peer, having therefore got a view of Mrs. Trent one day in thestreet, did, by means of an emissary then with him, make himselfacquainted with her lodging, to which he immediately laid siege inform, setting himself down in a lodging directly opposite to her, fromwhence the battery of ogles began to play the very next morning. This siege had not continued long before the governor of the garrisonbecame sufficiently apprized of all the works which were carrying on, and, having well reconnoitered the enemy, and discovered who he was, notwithstanding a false name and some disguise of his person, hecalled a council of war within his own breast. In fact, to drop allallegory, he began to consider whether his wife was not really a morevaluable possession than he had lately thought her. In short, as hehad been disappointed in her fortune, he now conceived some hopes ofturning her beauty itself into a fortune. Without communicating these views to her, he soon scraped anacquaintance with his opposite neighbour by the name which he thereusurped, and counterfeited an entire ignorance of his real name andtitle. On this occasion Trent had his disguise likewise, for heaffected the utmost simplicity; of which affectation, as he was a veryartful fellow, he was extremely capable. The peer fell plumb into this snare; and when, by the simplicity, ashe imagined, of the husband, he became acquainted with the wife, hewas so extravagantly charmed with her person, that he resolved, whatever was the cost or the consequence, he would possess her. His lordship, however, preserved some caution in his management ofthis affair; more, perhaps, than was necessary. As for the husband, none was requisite, for he knew all he could; and, with regard to thewife herself, as she had for some time perceived the decrease of herhusband's affection (for few women are, I believe, to be imposed uponin that matter), she was not displeased to find the return of all thatcomplaisance and endearment, of those looks and languishments, fromanother agreeable person, which she had formerly received from Trent, and which she now found she should receive from him no longer. My lord, therefore, having been indulged with as much opportunity ashe could wish from Trent, and having received rather moreencouragement than he could well have hoped from the lady, began toprepare all matters for a storm, when luckily, Mr. Trent declaring hemust go out of town for two days, he fixed on the first day of hisdeparture as the time of carrying his design into execution. And now, after some debate with himself in what manner he shouldapproach his love, he at last determined to do it in his own person;for he conceived, and perhaps very rightly, that the lady, likeSemele, was not void of ambition, and would have preferred Jupiter inall his glory to the same deity in the disguise of an humble shepherd. He dressed himself, therefore, in the richest embroidery of which hewas master, and appeared before his mistress arrayed in all thebrightness of peerage; a sight whose charms she had not the power toresist, and the consequences are only to be imagined. In short, thesame scene which Jupiter acted with his above-mentioned mistress ofold was more than beginning, when Trent burst from the closet intowhich he had conveyed himself, and unkindly interrupted the action. His lordship presently run to his sword; but Trent, with greatcalmness, answered, "That, as it was very well known he durst fight, he should not draw his sword on this occasion; for sure, " says he, "mylord, it would be the highest imprudence in me to kill a man who isnow become so considerably my debtor. " At which words he fetched aperson from the closet, who had been confined with him, telling him hehad done his business, and might now, if he pleased, retire. It would be tedious here to amuse the reader with all that passed onthe present occasion; the rage and confusion of the wife, or theperplexity in which my lord was involved. We will omit therefore allsuch matters, and proceed directly to business, as Trent and hislordship did soon after. And in the conclusion my lord stipulated topay a good round sum, and to provide Mr. Trent with a good place onthe first opportunity. On the side of Mr. Trent were stipulated absolute remission of allpast, and full indulgence for the time to come. Trent now immediately took a house at the polite end of the town, furnished it elegantly, and set up his equipage, rigged out bothhimself and his wife with very handsome cloaths, frequented all publicplaces where he could get admission, pushed himself into acquaintance, and his wife soon afterwards began to keep an assembly, or, in thefashionable phrase, to be at home once a-week; when, by my lord'sassistance, she was presently visited by most men of the first rank, and by all such women of fashion as are not very nice in theircompany. My lord's amour with this lady lasted not long; for, as we have beforeobserved, he was the most inconstant of all human race. Mrs. Trent'spassion was not however of that kind which leads to any very deepresentment of such fickleness. Her passion, indeed, was principallyfounded upon interest; so that foundation served to support anothersuperstructure; and she was easily prevailed upon, as well as herhusband, to be useful to my lord in a capacity which, though veryoften exerted in the polite world, hath not as yet, to my greatsurprize, acquired any polite name, or, indeed, any which is not toocoarse to be admitted in this history. After this preface, which we thought necessary to account for acharacter of which some of my country and collegiate readers mightpossibly doubt the existence, I shall proceed to what more immediatelyregards Mrs. Booth. The reader may be pleased to remember that Mr. Trent was present at the assembly to which Booth and his wife werecarried by Mrs. James, and where Amelia was met by the noble peer. His lordship, seeing there that Booth and Trent were old acquaintance, failed not, to use the language of sportsmen, to put Trent upon thescent of Amelia. For this purpose that gentleman visited Booth thevery next day, and had pursued him close ever since. By his means, therefore, my lord learned that Amelia was to be at the masquerade, towhich place she was dogged by Trent in a sailor's jacket, who, meetingmy lord, according to agreement, at the entrance of the opera-house, like the four-legged gentleman of the same vocation, made a deadpoint, as it is called, at the game. My lord was so satisfied and delighted with his conversation at themasquerade with the supposed Amelia, and the encouragement which inreality she had given him, that, when he saw Trent the next morning, he embraced him with great fondness, gave him a bank note of a hundredpound, and promised him both the Indies on his success, of which hebegan now to have no manner of doubt. The affair that happened at the gaming-table was likewise a scheme ofTrent's, on a hint given by my lord to him to endeavour to lead Boothinto some scrape or distress; his lordship promising to pay whateverexpense Trent might be led into by such means. Upon his lordship'scredit, therefore, the money lent to Booth was really advanced. Andhence arose all that seeming generosity and indifference as to thepayment; Trent being satisfied with the obligation conferred on Booth, by means of which he hoped to effect his purpose. But now the scene was totally changed; for Mrs. Atkinson, the morningafter the quarrel, beginning seriously to recollect that she hadcarried the matter rather too far, and might really injure Amelia'sreputation, a thought to which the warm pursuit of her own interesthad a good deal blinded her at the time, resolved to visit my lordhimself, and to let him into the whole story; for, as she hadsucceeded already in her favourite point, she thought she had noreason to fear any consequence of the discovery. This resolution sheimmediately executed. Trent came to attend his lordship, just after Mrs. Atkinson had lefthim. He found the peer in a very ill humour, and brought no news tocomfort or recruit his spirits; for he had himself just received abillet from Booth, with an excuse for himself and his wife fromaccepting the invitation at Trent's house that evening, where mattershad been previously concerted for their entertainment, and when hislordship was by accident to drop into the room where Amelia was, whileBooth was to be engaged at play in another. And now after much debate, and after Trent had acquainted my lord withthe wretched situation of Booth's circumstances, it was resolved thatTrent should immediately demand his money of Booth, and upon his notpaying it, for they both concluded it impossible he should pay it, toput the note which Trent had for the money in suit against him by thegenteel means of paying it away to a nominal third person; and thisthey both conceived must end immediately in the ruin of Booth, and, consequently, in the conquest of Amelia. In this project, and with this hope, both my lord and his setter, or(if the sportsmen please) setting-dog, both greatly exulted; and itwas next morning executed, as we have already seen. Chapter iv. _Containing some distress. _ Trent's letter drove Booth almost to madness. To be indebted to such afellow at any rate had stuck much in his stomach, and had given himvery great uneasiness; but to answer this demand in any other mannerthan by paying the money was absolutely what he could not bear. Again, to pay this money, he very plainly saw there was but one way, and thiswas, by stripping his wife, not only of every farthing, but almost ofevery rag she had in the world; a thought so dreadful that it chilledhis very soul with horror: and yet pride, at last, seemed to representthis as the lesser evil of the two. But how to do this was still a question. It was not sure, at least hefeared it was not, that Amelia herself would readily consent to this;and so far from persuading her to such a measure, he could not beareven to propose it. At length his determination was to acquaint hiswife with the whole affair, and to ask her consent, by way of askingher advice; for he was well assured she could find no other means ofextricating him out of his dilemma. This he accordingly did, representing the affair as bad as he could; though, indeed, it wasimpossible for him to aggravate the real truth. Amelia heard him patiently, without once interrupting him. When he hadfinished, she remained silent some time: indeed, the shock shereceived from this story almost deprived her of the power of speaking. At last she answered, "Well, my dear, you ask my advice; I certainlycan give you no other than that the money must be paid. " "But how must it be paid?" cries he. "O, heavens! thou sweetestcreature! what, not once upbraid me for bringing this ruin on thee?" "Upbraid you, my dear!" says she; "would to heaven I could preventyour upbraiding yourself. But do not despair. I will endeavour by somemeans or other to get you the money. " "Alas! my dear love, " cries Booth, "I know the only way by which youcan raise it. How can I consent to that? do you forget the fears youso lately expressed of what would be our wretched condition when ourlittle all was mouldered away? O my Amelia! they cut my very heart-strings when you spoke then; for I had then lost this little all. Indeed, I assure you, I have not played since, nor ever will more. " "Keep that resolution, " said she, "my dear, and I hope we shall yetrecover the past. "--At which words, casting her eyes on the children, the tears burst from her eyes, and she cried--"Heaven will, I hope, provide for us. " A pathetic scene now ensued between the husband and wife, which wouldnot, perhaps, please many readers to see drawn at too full a length. It is sufficient to say that this excellent woman not only used herutmost endeavours to stifle and conceal her own concern, but said anddid everything in her power to allay that of her husband. Booth was, at this time, to meet a person whom we have formerlymentioned in the course of our history. This gentleman had a place inthe War-office, and pretended to be a man of great interest andconsequence; by which means he did not only receive great respect andcourt from the inferiour officers, but actually bubbled several oftheir money, by undertaking to do them services which, in reality, were not within his power. In truth, I have known few great men whohave not been beset with one or more such fellows as these, throughwhom the inferior part of mankind are obliged to make their court tothe great men themselves; by which means, I believe, principally, persons of real merit have often been deterred from the attempt; forthese subaltern coxcombs ever assume an equal state with theirmasters, and look for an equal degree of respect to be paid to them;to which men of spirit, who are in every light their betters, are noteasily brought to submit. These fellows, indeed, themselves have ajealous eye towards all great abilities, and are sure, to the utmostof their power, to keep all who are so endowed from the presence oftheir masters. They use their masters as bad ministers have sometimesused a prince--they keep all men of merit from his ears, and dailysacrifice his true honour and interest to their own profit and theirown vanity. As soon as Booth was gone to his appointment with this man, Ameliaimmediately betook herself to her business with the highestresolution. She packed up, not only her own little trinkets, and thoseof the children, but the greatest part of her own poor cloathes (forshe was but barely provided), and then drove in a hackney-coach to thesame pawnbroker's who had before been recommended to her by Mrs. Atkinson, who advanced her the money she desired. Being now provided with her sum, she returned well pleased home, andher husband coming in soon after, she with much chearfulness deliveredhim all the money. Booth was so overjoyed with the prospect of discharging his debt toTrent, that he did not perfectly reflect on the distress to which hisfamily was now reduced. The good-humour which appeared in thecountenance of Amelia was, perhaps, another help to stifle thosereflexions; but above all, were the assurances he had received fromthe great man, whom he had met at a coffee-house, and who had promisedto do him all the service in his power; which several half-paysubaltern officers assured him was very considerable. With this comfortable news he acquainted his wife, who either was, orseemed to be, extremely well pleased with it. And now he set out withthe money in his pocket to pay his friend Trent, who unluckily for himhappened not to be at home. On his return home he met his old friend the lieutenant, whothankfully paid him his crown, and insisted on his going with him andtaking part of a bottle. This invitation was so eager and pressing, that poor Booth, who could not resist much importunity, complied. While they were over this bottle Booth acquainted his friend with thepromises he had received that afternoon at the coffee-house, withwhich the old gentleman was very well pleased: "For I have heard, "says he, "that gentleman hath very powerful interest;" but he informedhim likewise that he had heard that the great man must be touched, forthat he never did anything without touching. Of this, indeed, thegreat man himself had given some oblique hints, by saying, with greatsagacity and slyness, that he knew where fifty pound might bedeposited to much advantage. Booth answered that he would very readily advance a small sum if hehad it in his power, but that at present it was not so, for that hehad no more in the world than the sum of fifty pounds, which he owedTrent, and which he intended to pay him the next morning. "It is very right, undoubtedly, to pay your debts, " says the oldgentleman;" but sure, on such an occasion, any man but the rankestusurer would be contented to stay a little while for his money; and itwill be only a little while I am convinced; for, if you deposit thissum in the great man's hands, I make no doubt but you will succeedimmediately in getting your commission; and then I will help you to amethod of taking up such a sum as this. " The old gentleman persistedin this advice, and backed it with every argument he could invent, declaring, as was indeed true, that he gave the same advice which hewould pursue was the case his own. Booth long rejected the opinion of his friend, till, as they had notargued with dry lips, he became heated with wine, and then at last theold gentleman succeeded. Indeed, such was his love, either for Boothor for his own opinion, and perhaps for both, that he omitted nothingin his power. He even endeavoured to palliate the character of Trent, and unsaid half what he had before said of that gentleman. In the end, he undertook to make Trent easy, and to go to him the very nextmorning for that purpose. Poor Booth at last yielded, though with the utmost difficulty. Indeed, had he known quite as much of Trent as the reader doth, no motivewhatsoever would have prevailed on him to have taken the oldgentleman's advice. Chapter v. _Containing more wormwood and other ingredients. _ In the morning Booth communicated the matter to Amelia, who told himshe would not presume to advise him in an affair of which he was somuch the better judge. While Booth remained in a doubtful state what conduct to pursue Boundcame to make him a visit, and informed him that he had been at Trent'shouse, but found him not at home, adding that he would pay him asecond visit that very day, and would not rest till he found him. Booth was ashamed to confess his wavering resolution in an affair inwhich he had been so troublesome to his friend; he therefore dressedhimself immediately, and together they both went to wait on the littlegreat man, to whom Booth now hoped to pay his court in the mosteffectual manner. Bound had been longer acquainted with the modern methods of businessthan Booth; he advised his friend, therefore, to begin with tipping(as it is called) the great man's servant. He did so, and by thatmeans got speedy access to the master. The great man received the money, not as a gudgeon doth a bait, but asa pike receives a poor gudgeon into his maw. To say the truth, suchfellows as these may well be likened to that voracious fish, whofattens himself by devouring all the little inhabitants of the river. As soon as the great man had pocketed the cash, he shook Booth by thehand, and told him he would be sure to slip no opportunity of servinghim, and would send him word as soon as any offered. Here I shall stop one moment, and so, perhaps, will my good-naturedreader; for surely it must be a hard heart which is not affected withreflecting on the manner in which this poor little sum was raised, andon the manner in which it was bestowed. A worthy family, the wife andchildren of a man who had lost his blood abroad in the service of hiscountry, parting with their little all, and exposed to cold andhunger, to pamper such a fellow as this! And if any such reader as I mention should happen to be in reality agreat man, and in power, perhaps the horrour of this picture mayinduce him to put a final end to this abominable practice of touching, as it is called; by which, indeed, a set of leeches are permitted tosuck the blood of the brave and the indigent, of the widow and theorphan. Booth now returned home, where he found his wife with Mrs. James. Amelia had, before the arrival of her husband, absolutely refused Mrs. James's invitation to dinner the next day; but when Booth came in thelady renewed her application, and that in so pressing a manner, thatBooth seconded her; for, though he had enough of jealousy in histemper, yet such was his friendship to the colonel, and such hisgratitude to the obligations which he had received from him, that hisown unwillingness to believe anything of him, co-operating withAmelia's endeavours to put everything in the fairest light, hadbrought him to acquit his friend of any ill design. To this, perhaps, the late affair concerning my lord had moreover contributed; for itseems to me that the same passion cannot much energize on twodifferent objects at one and the same time: an observation which, Ibelieve, will hold as true with regard to the cruel passions ofjealousy and anger as to the gentle passion of love, in which onegreat and mighty object is sure to engage the whole passion. When Booth grew importunate, Amelia answered, "My dear, I should notrefuse you whatever was in my power; but this is absolutely out of mypower; for since I must declare the truth, I cannot dress myself. " "Why so?" said Mrs. James. " I am sure you are in good health. " "Is there no other impediment to dressing but want of health, madam?"answered Amelia. "Upon my word, none that I know of, " replied Mrs. James. "What do you think of want of cloathes, madam?" said Amelia. "Ridiculous!" cries Mrs. James. "What need have you to dress yourselfout? You will see nobody but our own family, and I promise you I don'texpect it. A plain night-gown will do very well. " "But if I must be plain with you, madam, " said Amelia, "I have noother cloathes but what I have now on my back. I have not even a cleanshift in the world; for you must know, my dear, " said she to Booth, "that little Betty is walked off this morning, and hath carried all mylinen with her. " "How, my dear?" cries Booth; "little Betty robbed you?" "It is even so, " answered Amelia. Indeed, she spoke truth; for littleBetty, having perceived the evening before that her mistress wasmoving her goods, was willing to lend all the assistance in her power, and had accordingly moved off early that morning, taking with herwhatever she could lay her hands on. Booth expressed himself with some passion on the occasion, and sworehe would make an example of the girl. "If the little slut be aboveground, " cried he, "I will find her out, and bring her to justice. " "I am really sorry for this accident, " said Mrs. James, "and (though Iknow not how to mention it) I beg you'll give me leave to offer youany linen of mine till you can make new of your own. " Amelia thanked Mrs. James, but declined the favour, saying, she shoulddo well enough at home; and that, as she had no servant now to takecare of her children, she could not, nor would not, leave them on anyaccount. "Then bring master and miss with you, " said Mrs. James. "You shallpositively dine with us tomorrow. " "I beg, madam, you will mention it no more, " said Amelia; "for, besides the substantial reasons I have already given, I have somethings on my mind at present which make me unfit for company; and I amresolved nothing shall prevail on me to stir from home. " Mrs. Jameshad carried her invitation already to the very utmost limits of goodbreeding, if not beyond them. She desisted therefore from going anyfurther, and, after some short stay longer, took her leave, with manyexpressions of concern, which, however, great as it was, left herheart and her mouth together before she was out of the house. Booth now declared that he would go in pursuit of little Betty, against whom he vowed so much vengeance, that Amelia endeavoured tomoderate his anger by representing to him the girl's youth, and thatthis was the first fault she had ever been guilty of. "Indeed, " saysshe, "I should be very glad to have my things again, and I would havethe girl too punished in some degree, which might possibly be for herown good; but I tremble to think of taking away her life;" for Boothin his rage had sworn he would hang her. "I know the tenderness of your heart, my dear, " said Booth, "and Ilove you for it; but I must beg leave to dissent from your opinion. Ido not think the girl in any light an object of mercy. She is not onlyguilty of dishonesty but of cruelty; for she must know our situationand the very little we had left. She is besides guilty of ingratitudeto you, who have treated her with so much kindness, that you haverather acted the part of a mother than of a mistress. And, so far fromthinking her youth an excuse, I think it rather an aggravation. It istrue, indeed, there are faults which the youth of the party verystrongly recommends to our pardon. Such are all those which proceedfrom carelessness and want of thought; but crimes of this black dye, which are committed with deliberation, and imply a bad mind, deserve amore severe punishment in a young person than in one of riper years;for what must the mind be in old age which hath acquired such a degreeof perfection in villany so very early? Such persons as these it isreally a charity to the public to put out of the society; and, indeed, a religious man would put them out of the world for the sake ofthemselves; for whoever understands anything of human nature must knowthat such people, the longer they live, the more they will accumulatevice and wickedness. " "Well, my dear, " cries Amelia, "I cannot argue with you on thesesubjects. I shall always submit to your superior judgment, and I knowyou too well to think that you will ever do anything cruel. " Booth then left Amelia to take care of her children, and went inpursuit of the thief. Chapter vi. _A scene of the tragic kind. _ He had not been long gone before a thundering knock was heard at thedoor of the house where Amelia lodged, and presently after a figureall pale, ghastly, and almost breathless, rushed into the room whereshe then was with her children. This figure Amelia soon recognised to be Mrs. Atkinson, though indeedshe was so disguised that at her first entrance Amelia scarce knewher. Her eyes were sunk in her head, her hair dishevelled, and notonly her dress but every feature in her face was in the utmostdisorder. Amelia was greatly shocked at this sight, and the little girl was muchfrightened; as for the boy, he immediately knew her, and, running toAmelia, he cried, "La! mamma, what is the matter with poor Mrs. Atkinson?" As soon as Mrs. Atkinson recovered her breath she cried out, "O, Mrs. Booth! I am the most miserable of women--I have lost the best ofhusbands. " Amelia, looking at her with all the tenderness imaginable, forgetting, I believe, that there had ever been any quarrel between them, said--"Good Heavens, madam, what's the matter?" "O, Mrs. Booth!" answered she, "I fear I have lost my husband: thedoctor says there is but little hope of his life. O, madam! however Ihave been in the wrong, I am sure you will forgive me and pity me. Iam sure I am severely punished; for to that cursed affair I owe all mymisery. " "Indeed, madam, " cries Amelia, "I am extremely concerned for yourmisfortune. But pray tell me, hath anything happened to the serjeant?" "O, madam!" cries she, "I have the greatest reason to fear I shalllose him. The doctor hath almost given him over--he says he hathscarce any hopes. O, madam! that evening that the fatal quarrelhappened between us my dear captain took it so to heart that he sat upall night and drank a whole bottle of brandy. Indeed, he said hewished to kill himself; for nothing could have hurt him so much in theworld, he said, as to have any quarrel between you and me. Hisconcern, and what he drank together, threw him into a high fever. Sothat, when I came home from my lord's--(for indeed, madam, I havebeen, and set all to rights--your reputation is now in no danger)--when I came home, I say, I found the poor man in a raving deliriousfit, and in that he hath continued ever since till about an hour ago, when he came perfectly to his senses; but now he says he is sure heshall die, and begs for Heaven's sake to see you first. Would you, madam, would you have the goodness to grant my poor captain's desire?consider he is a dying man, and neither he nor I shall ever ask you asecond favour. He says he hath something to say to you that he canmention to no other person, and that he cannot die in peace unless hesees you. " "Upon my word, madam, " cries Amelia, "I am extremely concerned at whatyou tell me. I knew the poor serjeant from his infancy, and always hadan affection for him, as I think him to be one of the best-natured andhonestest creatures upon earth. I am sure if I could do him anyservice--but of what use can my going be?" "Of the highest in the world, " answered Mrs. Atkinson. "If you knewhow earnestly he entreated it, how his poor breaking heart begged tosee you, you would not refuse. " "Nay, I do not absolutely refuse, " cries Amelia. "Something to say tome of consequence, and that he could not die in peace unless he saidit! did he say that, Mrs. Atkinson?" "Upon my honour he did, " answered she, "and much more than I haverelated. " "Well, I will go with you, " cries Amelia. "I cannot guess what thisshould be; but I will go. " Mrs. Atkinson then poured out a thousand blessings and thanksgivings;and, taking hold of Amelia's hand, and eagerly kissing it, cried out, "How could that fury passion drive me to quarrel with such acreature?" Amelia told her she had forgiven and forgot it; and then, calling upthe mistress of the house, and committing to her the care of thechildren, she cloaked herself up as well as she could and set out withMrs. Atkinson. When they arrived at the house, Mrs. Atkinson said she would go firstand give the captain some notice; for that, if Amelia entered the roomunexpectedly, the surprize might have an ill effect. She lefttherefore Amelia in the parlour, and proceeded directly upstairs. Poor Atkinson, weak and bad as was his condition, no sooner heard thatAmelia was come than he discovered great joy in his countenance, andpresently afterwards she was introduced to him. Atkinson exerted his utmost strength to thank her for this goodness toa dying man (for so he called himself). He said he should not havepresumed to give her this trouble, had he not had something which hethought of consequence to say to her, and which he could not mentionto any other person. He then desired his wife to give him a littlebox, of which he always kept the key himself, and afterwards beggedher to leave the room for a few minutes; at which neither she norAmelia expressed any dissatisfaction. When he was alone with Amelia, he spoke as follows: "This, madam, isthe last time my eyes will ever behold what--do pardon me, madam, Iwill never offend you more. " Here he sunk down in his bed, and thetears gushed from his eyes. "Why should you fear to offend me, Joe?" said Amelia. "I am sure younever did anything willingly to offend me. " "No, madam, " answered he, "I would die a thousand times before I wouldhave ventured it in the smallest matter. But--I cannot speak--and yetI must. You cannot pardon me, and yet, perhaps, as I am a dying man, and never shall see you more--indeed, if I was to live after thisdiscovery, I should never dare to look you in the face again; and yet, madam, to think I shall never see you more is worse than ten thousanddeaths. " "Indeed, Mr. Atkinson, " cries Amelia, blushing, and looking down onthe floor, "I must not hear you talk in this manner. If you haveanything to say, tell it me, and do not be afraid of my anger; for Ithink I may promise to forgive whatever it was possible you shoulddo. " "Here then, madam, " said he, "is your picture; I stole it when I waseighteen years of age, and have kept it ever since. It is set in gold, with three little diamonds; and yet I can truly say it was not thegold nor the diamonds which I stole--it was the face, which, if I hadbeen the emperor of the world--" "I must not hear any more of this, " said she. "Comfort yourself, Joe, and think no more of this matter. Be assured, I freely and heartilyforgive you--But pray compose yourself; come, let me call in yourwife. " "First, madam, let me beg one favour, " cried he: "consider it is thelast, and then I shall die in peace--let me kiss that hand before Idie. " "Well, nay, " says she, "I don't know what I am doing--well--there. "She then carelessly gave him her hand, which he put gently to hislips, and then presently let it drop, and fell back in the bed. Amelia now summoned Mrs. Atkinson, who was indeed no further off thanjust without the door. She then hastened down-stairs, and called for agreat glass of water, which having drank off, she threw herself into achair, and the tears ran plentifully from her eyes with compassion forthe poor wretch she had just left in his bed. To say the truth, without any injury to her chastity, that heart, which had stood firm as a rock to all the attacks of title andequipage, of finery and flattery, and which all the treasures of theuniverse could not have purchased, was yet a little softened by theplain, honest, modest, involuntary, delicate, heroic passion of thispoor and humble swain; for whom, in spite of herself, she felt amomentary tenderness and complacence, at which Booth, if he had knownit, would perhaps have been displeased. Having staid some time in the parlour, and not finding Mrs. Atkinsoncome down (for indeed her husband was then so bad she could not quithim), Amelia left a message with the maid of the house for hermistress, purporting that she should be ready to do anything in herpower to serve her, and then left the house with a confusion on hermind that she had never felt before, and which any chastity that isnot hewn out of marble must feel on so tender and delicate anoccasion. Chapter vii. _In which Mr. Booth meets with more than one adventure. _ Booth, having hunted for about two hours, at last saw a young lady ina tattered silk gown stepping out of a shop in Monmouth--street into ahackney-coach. This lady, notwithstanding the disguise of her dress, he presently discovered to be no other than little Betty. He instantly gave the alarm of stop thief, stop coach! upon which Mrs. Betty was immediately stopt in her vehicle, and Booth and hismyrmidons laid hold of her. The girl no sooner found that she was seised by her master than theconsciousness of her guilt overpowered her; for she was not yet anexperienced offender, and she immediately confessed her crime. She was then carried before a justice of peace, where she wassearched, and there was found in her possession four shillings andsixpence in money, besides the silk gown, which was indeed properfurniture for rag-fair, and scarce worth a single farthing, though thehonest shopkeeper in Monmouth-street had sold it for a crown to thesimple girl. The girl, being examined by the magistrate, spoke as follows:--"Indeed, sir, an't please your worship, I am very sorry for what Ihave done; and to be sure, an't please your honour, my lord, it musthave been the devil that put me upon it; for to be sure, please yourmajesty, I never thought upon such a thing in my whole life before, any more than I did of my dying-day; but, indeed, sir, an't pleaseyour worship--" She was running on in this manner when the justice interrupted her, and desired her to give an account of what she had taken from hermaster, and what she had done with it. "Indeed, an't please your majesty, " said she, "I took no more than twoshifts of madam's, and I pawned them for five shillings, which I gavefor the gown that's upon my back; and as for the money in my pocket, it is every farthing of it my own. I am sure I intended to carry backthe shifts too as soon as ever I could get money to take them out. " The girl having told them where the pawnbroker lived, the justice sentto him, to produce the shifts, which he presently did; for he expectedthat a warrant to search his house would be the consequence of hisrefusal. The shifts being produced, on which the honest pawnbroker had lentfive shillings, appeared plainly to be worth above thirty; indeed, when new they had cost much more: so that, by their goodness as wellas by their size, it was certain they could not have belonged to thegirl. Booth grew very warm against the pawnbroker. "I hope, sir, " saidhe to the justice, "there is some punishment for this fellow likewise, who so plainly appears to have known that these goods were stolen. Theshops of these fellows may indeed be called the fountains of theft;for it is in reality the encouragement which they meet with from thesereceivers of their goods that induces men very often to becomethieves, so that these deserve equal if not severer punishment thanthe thieves themselves. " The pawnbroker protested his innocence, and denied the taking in theshifts. Indeed, in this he spoke truth, for he had slipt into an innerroom, as was always his custom on these occasions, and left a littleboy to do the business; by which means he had carried on the trade ofreceiving stolen goods for many years with impunity, and had beentwice acquitted at the Old Bailey, though the juggle appeared upon themost manifest evidence. As the justice was going to speak he was interrupted by the girl, who, falling upon her knees to Booth, with many tears begged hisforgiveness. "Indeed, Betty, " cries Booth, "you do not deserve forgiveness; for youknow very good reasons why you should not have thought of robbing yourmistress, particularly at this time. And what further aggravates yourcrime is, that you robbed the best and kindest mistress in the world. Nay, you are not only guilty of felony, but of a felonious breach oftrust, for you know very well everything your mistress had wasintrusted to your care. " Now it happened, by very great accident, that the justice before whomthe girl was brought understood the law. Turning therefore to Booth, he said, "Do you say, sir, that this girl was intrusted with theshifts?" "Yes, sir, " said Booth, "she was intrusted with everything. " "And will you swear that the goods stolen, " said the justice, "areworth forty shillings?" "No, indeed, sir, " answered Booth, "nor that they are worthy thirtyeither. " "Then, sir, " cries the justice, "the girl cannot be guilty of felony. " "How, sir, " said Booth, "is it not a breach of trust? and is not abreach of trust felony, and the worst felony too?" "No, sir, " answered the justice; "a breach of trust is no crime in ourlaw, unless it be in a servant; and then the act of parliamentrequires the goods taken to be of the value of forty shillings. " "So then a servant, " cries Booth, "may rob his master of thirty-nineshillings whenever he pleases, and he can't be punished. " "If the goods are under his care, he can't, " cries the justice. "I ask your pardon, sir, " says Booth. "I do not doubt what you say;but sure this is a very extraordinary law. " "Perhaps I think so too, " said the justice; "but it belongs not to myoffice to make or to mend laws. My business is only to execute them. If therefore the case be as you say, I must discharge the girl. " "I hope, however, you will punish the pawnbroker, " cries Booth. "If the girl is discharged, " cries the justice, "so must be thepawnbroker; for, if the goods are not stolen, he cannot be guilty ofreceiving them knowing them to be stolen. And, besides, as to hisoffence, to say the truth, I am almost weary of prosecuting it; forsuch are the difficulties laid in the way of this prosecution, that itis almost impossible to convict any one on it. And, to speak myopinion plainly, such are the laws, and such the method of proceeding, that one would almost think our laws were rather made for theprotection of rogues than for the punishment of them. " Thus ended this examination: the thief and the receiver went abouttheir business, and Booth departed in order to go home to his wife. In his way home Booth was met by a lady in a chair, who, immediatelyupon seeing him, stopt her chair, bolted out of it, and, goingdirectly up to him, said, "So, Mr. Booth, you have kept your word withme. " The lady was no other than Miss Matthews, and the speech she meant wasof a promise made to her at the masquerade of visiting her within aday or two; which, whether he ever intended to keep I cannot say, but, in truth, the several accidents that had since happened to him had sodiscomposed his mind that he had absolutely forgot it. Booth, however, was too sensible and too well-bred to make the excuseof forgetfulness to a lady; nor could he readily find any other. Whilehe stood therefore hesitating, and looking not over-wise, MissMatthews said, "Well, sir, since by your confusion I see you have somegrace left, I will pardon you on one condition, and that is that youwill sup with me this night. But, if you fail me now, expect all therevenge of an injured woman. " She then bound herself by a mostoutrageous oath that she would complain to his wife--" And I am sure, "says she, "she is so much a woman of honour as to do me justice. And, though I miscarried in my first attempt, be assured I will take careof my second. " Booth asked what she meant by her first attempt; to which she answeredthat she had already writ his wife an account of his ill-usage of her, but that she was pleased it had miscarried. She then repeated herasseveration that she would now do it effectually if he disappointedher. This threat she reckoned would most certainly terrify poor Booth; and, indeed, she was not mistaken; for I believe it would have beenimpossible, by any other menace or by any other means, to have broughthim once even to balance in his mind on this question. But by thisthreat she prevailed; and Booth promised, upon his word and honour, tocome to her at the hour she appointed. After which she took leave ofhim with a squeeze by the hand, and a smiling countenance, and walkedback to her chair. But, however she might be pleased with having obtained this promise, Booth was far from being delighted with the thoughts of having givenit. He looked, indeed, upon the consequences of this meeting withhorrour; but as to the consequence which was so apparently intended bythe lady, he resolved against it. At length he came to thisdetermination, to go according to his appointment, to argue the matterwith the lady, and to convince her, if possible, that, from a regardto his honour only, he must discontinue her acquaintance. If thisfailed to satisfy her, and she still persisted in her threats toacquaint his wife with the affair, he then resolved, whatever pains itcost him, to communicate the whole truth himself to Amelia, from whosegoodness he doubted not but to obtain an absolute remission. Chapter viii. _In which Amelia appears in a light more amiable than gay. _ We will now return to Amelia, whom we left in some perturbation ofmind departing from Mrs. Atkinson. Though she had before walked through the streets in a very improperdress with Mrs. Atkinson, she was unwilling, especially as she wasalone, to return in the same manner. Indeed, she was scarce able towalk in her present condition; for the case of poor Atkinson had muchaffected her tender heart, and her eyes had overflown with many tears. It occurred likewise to her at present that she had not a singleshilling in her pocket or at home to provide food for herself and herfamily. In this situation she resolved to go immediately to thepawnbroker whither she had gone before, and to deposit her picture forwhat she could raise upon it. She then immediately took a chair andput her design in execution. The intrinsic value of the gold in which this picture was set, and ofthe little diamonds which surrounded it, amounted to nine guineas. This therefore was advanced to her, and the prettiest face in theworld (such is often the fate of beauty) was deposited, as of novalue, into the bargain. When she came home she found the following letter from Mrs. Atkinson:- "MY DEAREST MADAM, --As I know your goodness, I could not delay amoment acquainting you with the happy turn of my affairs since youwent. The doctor, on his return to visit my husband, has assured methat the captain was on the recovery, and in very little danger; and Ireally think he is since mended. I hope to wait on you soon withbetter news. Heaven bless you, dear madam! and believe me to be, withthe utmost sincerity, Your most obliged, obedient, humble servant, ATKINSON. " Amelia was really pleased with this letter; and now, it being pastfour o'clock, she despaired of seeing her husband till the evening. She therefore provided some tarts for her children, and then, eatingnothing but a slice of bread and butter herself, she began to preparefor the captain's supper. There were two things of which her husband was particularly fond, which, though it may bring the simplicity of his taste into greatcontempt with some of my readers, I will venture to name. These were afowl and egg sauce and mutton broth; both which Amelia immediatelypurchased. As soon as the clock struck seven the good creature went down into thekitchen, and began to exercise her talents of cookery, of which shewas a great mistress, as she was of every economical office from thehighest to the lowest: and, as no woman could outshine her in adrawing-room, so none could make the drawing-room itself shinebrighter than Amelia. And, if I may speak a bold truth, I questionwhether it be possible to view this fine creature in a more amiablelight than while she was dressing her husband's supper, with herlittle children playing round her. It was now half an hour past eight, and the meat almost ready, thetable likewise neatly spread with materials borrowed from herlandlady, and she began to grow a little uneasy at Booth's notreturning when a sudden knock at the door roused her spirits, and shecried, "There, my dear, there is your good papa;" at which words shedarted swiftly upstairs and opened the door to her husband. She desired her husband to walk up into the dining-room, and she wouldcome to him in an instant; for she was desirous to encrease hispleasure by surprising him with his two favourite dishes. She thenwent down again to the kitchen, where the maid of the house undertookto send up the supper, and she with her children returned to Booth. He then told her concisely what had happened with relation to thegirl--to which she scarce made any answer, but asked him if he had notdined? He assured her he had not eat a morsel the whole day. "Well, " says she, "my dear, I am a fellow-sufferer; but we shall bothenjoy our supper the more; for I have made a little provision for you, as I guessed what might be the case. I have got you a bottle of winetoo. And here is a clean cloth and a smiling countenance, my dearWill. Indeed, I am in unusual good spirits to-night, and I have made apromise to the children, which you must confirm; I have promised tolet them sit up this one night to supper with us. --Nay, don't look soserious: cast off all uneasy thoughts, I have a present for you here--no matter how I came by it. "--At which words she put eight guineasinto his hand, crying, "Come, my dear Bill, be gay--Fortune will yetbe kind to us--at least let us be happy this night. Indeed, thepleasures of many women during their whole lives will not amount to myhappiness this night if you will be in good humour. " Booth fetched a deep sigh, and cried, "How unhappy am I, my dear, that I can't sup with you to-night!" As in the delightful month of June, when the sky is all serene, andthe whole face of nature looks with a pleasing and smiling aspect, suddenly a dark cloud spreads itself over the hemisphere, the sunvanishes from our sight, and every object is obscured by a dark andhorrid gloom; so happened it to Amelia: the joy that had enlightenedevery feature disappeared in a moment; the lustre forsook her shiningeyes, and all the little loves that played and wantoned in her cheekshung their drooping heads, and with a faint trembling voice sherepeated her husband's words, "Not sup with me to-night, my dear!" "Indeed, my dear, " answered he, "I cannot. I need not tell you howuneasy it makes me, or that I am as much disappointed as yourself; butI am engaged to sup abroad. I have absolutely given my honour; andbesides, it is on business of importance. " "My dear, " said she, "I say no more. I am convinced you would notwillingly sup from me. I own it is a very particular disappointment tome to-night, when I had proposed unusual pleasure; but the same reasonwhich is sufficient to you ought to be so to me. " Booth made his wife a compliment on her ready compliance, and thenasked her what she intended by giving him that money, or how she cameby it? "I intend, my dear, " said she, "to give it you; that is all. As to themanner in which I came by it, you know, Billy, that is not verymaterial. You are well assured I got it by no means which woulddisplease you; and, perhaps, another time I may tell you. " Booth asked no farther questions; but he returned her, and insisted onher taking, all but one guinea, saying she was the safest treasurer. He then promised her to make all the haste home in his power, and hehoped, he said, to be with her in an hour and half at farthest, andthen took his leave. When he was gone the poor disappointed Amelia sat down to supper withher children, with whose company she was forced to console herself forthe absence of her husband. Chapter ix. _A very tragic scene. _ The clock had struck eleven, and Amelia was just proceeding to put herchildren to bed, when she heard a knock at the street-door; upon whichthe boy cried out, "There's papa, mamma; pray let me stay and see himbefore I go to bed. " This was a favour very easily obtained; forAmelia instantly ran down-stairs, exulting in the goodness of herhusband for returning so soon, though half an hour was already elapsedbeyond the time in which he promised to return. Poor Amelia was now again disappointed; for it was not her husband atthe door, but a servant with a letter for him, which he delivered intoher hands. She immediately returned up-stairs, and said--"It was notyour papa, my dear; but I hope it is one who hath brought us some goodnews. " For Booth had told her that he hourly expected to receive suchfrom the great man, and had desired her to open any letter which cameto him in his absence. Amelia therefore broke open the letter, and read as follows: "SIR, --After what hath passed between us, I need only tell you that Iknow you supped this very night alone with Miss Matthews: a fact whichwill upbraid you sufficiently, without putting me to that trouble, andwill very well account for my desiring the favour of seeing you to-morrow in Hyde-park at six in the morning. You will forgive mereminding you once more how inexcusable this behaviour is in you, whoare possessed in your own wife of the most inestimable jewel. Yours, &c. T. JAMES. I shall bring pistols with me. " It is not easy to describe the agitation of Amelia's mind when sheread this letter. She threw herself into her chair, turned as pale asdeath, began to tremble all over, and had just power enough left totap the bottle of wine, which she had hitherto preserved entire forher husband, and to drink off a large bumper. The little boy perceived the strange symptoms which appeared in hismother; and running to her, he cried, "What's the matter, my dearmamma? you don't look well!--No harm hath happened to poor papa, Ihope--Sure that bad man hath not carried him away again?" Amelia answered, "No, child, nothing--nothing at all. " And then alarge shower of tears came to her assistance, which presently afterproduced the same in the eyes of both the children. Amelia, after a short silence, looking tenderly at her children, criedout, "It is too much, too much to bear. Why did I bring these littlewretches into the world? why were these innocents born to such afate?" She then threw her arms round them both (for they were beforeembracing her knees), and cried, "O my children! my children! forgiveme, my babes! Forgive me that I have brought you into such a world asthis! You are undone--my children are undone!" The little boy answered with great spirit, "How undone, mamma? mysister and I don't care a farthing for being undone. Don't cry so uponour accounts--we are both very well; indeed we are. But do pray tellus. I am sure some accident hath happened to poor papa. " "Mention him no more, " cries Amelia; "your papa is--indeed he is awicked man--he cares not for any of us. O Heavens! is this thehappiness I promised myself this evening?" At which words she fellinto an agony, holding both her children in her arms. The maid of the house now entered the room, with a letter in her handwhich she had received from a porter, whose arrival the reader willnot wonder to have been unheard by Amelia in her present condition. The maid, upon her entrance into the room, perceiving the situation ofAmelia, cried out, "Good Heavens! madam, what's the matter?" Uponwhich Amelia, who had a little recovered herself after the lastviolent vent of her passion, started up and cried, "Nothing, Mrs. Susan--nothing extraordinary. I am subject to these fits sometimes;but I am very well now. Come, my dear children, I am very well again;indeed I am. You must now go to bed; Mrs. Susan will be so good as toput you to bed. " "But why doth not papa love us?" cries the little boy. "I am sure wehave none of us done anything to disoblige him. " This innocent question of the child so stung Amelia that she had theutmost difficulty to prevent a relapse. However, she took another dramof wine; for so it might be called to her, who was the most temperateof women, and never exceeded three glasses on any occasion. In thisglass she drank her children's health, and soon after so well soothedand composed them that they went quietly away with Mrs. Susan. The maid, in the shock she had conceived at the melancholy, indeedfrightful scene, which had presented itself to her at her first cominginto the room, had quite forgot the letter which she held in her hand. However, just at her departure she recollected it, and delivered it toAmelia, who was no sooner alone than she opened it, and read asfollows: "MY DEAREST, SWEETEST LOVE, --I write this from the bailiff's housewhere I was formerly, and to which I am again brought at the suit ofthat villain Trent. I have the misfortune to think I owe this accident(I mean that it happened to-night) to my own folly in endeavouring tokeep a secret from you. O my dear! had I had resolution to confess mycrime to you, your forgiveness would, I am convinced, have cost meonly a few blushes, and I had now been happy in your arms. Fool that Iwas, to leave you on such an account, and to add to a formertransgression a new one!--Yet, by Heavens! I mean not a transgressionof the like kind; for of that I am not nor ever will be guilty; andwhen you know the true reason of my leaving you to-night I think youwill pity rather than upbraid me. I am sure you would if you knew thecompunction with which I left you to go to the most worthless, themost infamous. Do guess the rest--guess that crime with which I cannotstain my paper--but still believe me no more guilty than I am, or, ifit will lessen your vexation at what hath befallen me, believe me asguilty as you please, and think me, for a while at least, asundeserving of you as I think myself. This paper and pen are so bad, Iquestion whether you can read what I write: I almost doubt whether Iwish you should. Yet this I will endeavour to make as legible as Ican. Be comforted, my dear love, and still keep up your spirits withthe hopes of better days. The doctor will be in town to-morrow, and Itrust on his goodness for my delivery once more from this place, andthat I shall soon be able to repay him. That Heaven may bless andpreserve you is the prayer of, my dearest love, Your ever fond, affectionate, and hereafter, faithful husband, W. BOOTH. " Amelia pretty well guessed the obscure meaning of this letter, which, though at another time it might have given her unspeakable torment, was at present rather of the medicinal kind, and served to allay heranguish. Her anger to Booth too began a little to abate, and wassoftened by her concern for his misfortune. Upon the whole, however, she passed a miserable and sleepless night, her gentle mind torn anddistracted with various and contending passions, distressed withdoubts, and wandering in a kind of twilight which presented her onlyobjects of different degrees of horror, and where black despair closedat a small distance the gloomy prospect. BOOK XII. Chapter i. _The book begins with polite history. _ Before we return to the miserable couple, whom we left at the end ofthe last book, we will give our reader the more chearful view of thegay and happy family of Colonel James. Mrs. James, when she could not, as we have seen, prevail with Ameliato accept that invitation which, at the desire of the colonel, she hadso kindly and obediently carried her, returned to her husband andacquainted him with the ill success of her embassy; at which, to saythe truth, she was almost as much disappointed as the colonel himself;for he had not taken a much stronger liking to Amelia than she herselfhad conceived for Booth. This will account for some passages which mayhave a little surprized the reader in the former chapters of thishistory, as we were not then at leisure to communicate to them a hintof this kind; it was, indeed, on Mr. Booth's account that she had beenat the trouble of changing her dress at the masquerade. But her passions of this sort, happily for her, were not extremelystrong; she was therefore easily baulked; and, as she met with noencouragement from Booth, she soon gave way to the impetuosity of MissMatthews, and from that time scarce thought more of the affair tillher husband's design against the wife revived her's likewise; insomuchthat her passion was at this time certainly strong enough for Booth, to produce a good hearty hatred for Amelia, whom she now abused to thecolonel in very gross terms, both on the account of her poverty andher insolence, for so she termed the refusal of all her offers. The colonel, seeing no hopes of soon possessing his new mistress, began, like a prudent and wise man, to turn his thoughts towards thesecuring his old one. From what his wife had mentioned concerning thebehaviour of the shepherdess, and particularly her preference ofBooth, he had little doubt but that this was the identical MissMatthews. He resolved therefore to watch her closely, in hopes ofdiscovering Booth's intrigue with her. In this, besides the remainderof affection which he yet preserved for that lady, he had anotherview, as it would give him a fair pretence to quarrel with Booth; who, by carrying on this intrigue, would have broke his word and honourgiven to him. And he began now to hate poor Booth heartily, from thesame reason from which Mrs. James had contracted her aversion toAmelia. The colonel therefore employed an inferior kind of pimp to watch thelodgings of Miss Matthews, and to acquaint him if Booth, whose personwas known to the pimp, made any visit there. The pimp faithfully performed his office, and, having last night madethe wished-for discovery, immediately acquainted his master with it. Upon this news the colonel presently despatched to Booth the shortnote which we have before seen. He sent it to his own house instead ofMiss Matthews's, with hopes of that very accident which actually didhappen. Not that he had any ingredient of the bully in him, anddesired to be prevented from fighting, but with a prospect of injuringBooth in the affection and esteem of Amelia, and of recommendinghimself somewhat to her by appearing in the light of her champion; forwhich purpose he added that compliment to Amelia in his letter. Heconcluded upon the whole that, if Booth himself opened the letter, hewould certainly meet him the next morning; but if his wife should openit before he came home it might have the effects before mentioned;and, for his future expostulation with Booth, it would not be inAmelia's power to prevent it. Now it happened that this pimp had more masters than one. Amongstthese was the worthy Mr. Trent, for whom he had often done business ofthe pimping vocation. He had been employed indeed in the service ofthe great peer himself, under the direction of the said Trent, and wasthe very person who had assisted the said Trent in dogging Booth andhis wife to the opera-house on the masquerade night. This subaltern pimp was with his superior Trent yesterday morning, when he found a bailiff with him in order to receive his instructionsfor the arresting Booth, when the bailiff said it would be a verydifficult matter to take him, for that to his knowledge he was as shya cock as any in England. The subaltern immediately acquainted Trentwith the business in which he was employed by the colonel; upon whichTrent enjoined him the moment he had set him to give immediate noticeto the bailiff, which he agreed to, and performed accordingly. The bailiff, on receiving the notice, immediately set out for hisstand at an alehouse within three doors of Miss Matthews's lodgings;at which, unfortunately for poor Booth, he arrived a very few minutesbefore Booth left that lady in order to return to Amelia. These were several matters of which we thought necessary our readershould be informed; for, besides that it conduces greatly to a perfectunderstanding of all history, there is no exercise of the mind of asensible reader more pleasant than the tracing the several small andalmost imperceptible links in every chain of events by which all thegreat actions of the world are produced. We will now in the nextchapter proceed with our history. Chapter ii. _In which Amelia visits her husband. _ Amelia, after much anxious thinking, in which she sometimes flatteredherself that her husband was less guilty than she had at firstimagined him, and that he had some good excuse to make for himself(for, indeed, she was not so able as willing to make one for him), atlength resolved to set out for the bailiff's castle. Having thereforestrictly recommended the care of her children to her good landlady, she sent for a hackney coach, and ordered the coachman to drive toGray's-inn-lane. When she came to the house, and asked for the captain, the bailiff'swife, who came to the door, guessing, by the greatness of her beautyand the disorder of her dress, that she was a young lady of pleasure, answered surlily, "Captain! I do not know of any captain that is here, not I!" For this good woman was, as well as dame Purgante in Prior, abitter enemy to all whores, especially to those of the handsome kind;for some such she suspected to go shares with her in a certainproperty to which the law gave her the sole right. Amelia replied she was certain that Captain Booth was there. "Well, ifhe is so, " cries the bailiff's wife, "you may come into the kitchen ifyou will, and he shall be called down to you if you have any businesswith him. " At the same time she muttered something to herself, andconcluded a little more intelligibly, though still in a mutteringvoice, that she kept no such house. Amelia, whose innocence gave her no suspicion of the true cause ofthis good woman's sullenness, was frightened, and began to fear sheknew not what. At last she made a shift to totter into the kitchen, when the mistress of the house asked her, "Well, madam, who shall Itell the captain wants to speak with him?" "I ask your pardon, madam, " cries Amelia; "in my confusion I reallyforgot you did not know me--tell him, if you please, that I am hiswife. " "And you are indeed his wife, madam?" cries Mrs. Bailiff, a littlesoftened. "Yes, indeed, and upon my honour, " answers Amelia. "If this be the case, " cries the other, "you may walk up-stairs if youplease. Heaven forbid I should part man and wife! Indeed, I think theycan never be too much together. But I never will suffer any bad doingsin my house, nor any of the town ladies to come to gentlemen here. " Amelia answered that she liked her the better: for, indeed, in herpresent disposition, Amelia was as much exasperated against wickedwomen as the virtuous mistress of the house, or any other virtuouswoman could be. The bailiff's wife then ushered Amelia up-stairs, and, having unlockedthe prisoner's doors, cried, "Captain, here is your lady, sir, come tosee you. " At which words Booth started up from his chair, and caughtAmelia in his arms, embracing her for a considerable time with so muchrapture, that the bailiff's wife, who was an eyewitness of thisviolent fondness, began to suspect whether Amelia had really told hertruth. However, she had some little awe of the captain; and for fearof being in the wrong did not interfere, but shut the door and turnedthe key. When Booth found himself alone with his wife, and had vented the firstviolence of his rapture in kisses and embraces, he looked tenderly ather and cried, "Is it possible, Amelia, is it possible you can havethis goodness to follow such a wretch as me to such a place as this--or do you come to upbraid me with my guilt, and to sink me down tothat perdition I so justly deserve?" "Am I so given to upbraiding then?" says she, in a gentle voice; "haveI ever given you occasion to think I would sink you to perdition?" "Far be it from me, my love, to think so, " answered he. "And yet youmay forgive the utmost fears of an offending, penitent sinner. I know, indeed, the extent of your goodness, and yet I know my guilt sogreat--" "Alas! Mr. Booth, " said she, "what guilt is this which you mention, and which you writ to me of last night?--Sure, by your mentioning tome so much, you intend to tell me more--nay, indeed, to tell me all;and not leave my mind open to suspicions perhaps ten times worse thanthe truth. " "Will you give me a patient hearing?" said he. "I will indeed, " answered she, "nay, I am prepared to hear the worstyou can unfold; nay, perhaps, the worst is short of my apprehensions. " Booth then, after a little further apology, began and related to herthe whole that had passed between him and Miss Matthews, from theirfirst meeting in the prison to their separation the preceding evening. All which, as the reader knows it already, it would be tedious andunpardonable to transcribe from his mouth. He told her likewise allthat he had done and suffered to conceal his transgression from herknowledge. This he assured her was the business of his visit lastnight, the consequence of which was, he declared in the most solemnmanner, no other than an absolute quarrel with Miss Matthews, of whomhe had taken a final leave. When he had ended his narration, Amelia, after a short silence, answered, "Indeed, I firmly believe every word you have said, but Icannot now forgive you the fault you have confessed; and my reason is--because I have forgiven it long ago. Here, my dear, " said she, "isaninstance that I am likewise capable of keeping a secret. "--She thendelivered her husband a letter which she had some time ago receivedfrom Miss Matthews, and which was the same which that lady hadmentioned, and supposed, as Booth had never heard of it, that it hadmiscarried; for she sent it by the penny post. In this letter, whichwas signed by a feigned name, she had acquainted Amelia with theinfidelity of her husband, and had besides very greatly abused him;taxing him with many falsehoods, and, among the rest, with havingspoken very slightingly and disrespectfully of his wife. Amelia never shined forth to Booth in so amiable and great a light;nor did his own unworthiness ever appear to him so mean andcontemptible as at this instant. However, when he had read the letter, he uttered many violent protestations to her, that all which relatedto herself was absolutely false. "I am convinced it is, " said she. "I would not have a suspicion of thecontrary for the world. I assure you I had, till last night revived itin my memory, almost forgot the letter; for, as I well knew from whomit came, by her mentioning obligations which she had conferred on you, and which you had more than once spoken to me of, I made largeallowances for the situation you was then in; and I was the moresatisfied, as the letter itself, as well as many other circumstances, convinced me the affair was at an end. " Booth now uttered the most extravagant expressions of admiration andfondness that his heart could dictate, and accompanied them with thewarmest embraces. All which warmth and tenderness she returned; andtears of love and joy gushed from both their eyes. So ravished indeedwere their hearts, that for some time they both forgot the dreadfulsituation of their affairs. This, however, was but a short reverie. It soon recurred to Amelia, that, though she had the liberty of leaving that house when shepleased, she could not take her beloved husband with her. This thoughtstung her tender bosom to the quick, and she could not so far commandherself as to refrain from many sorrowful exclamations against thehardship of their destiny; but when she saw the effect they had uponBooth she stifled her rising grief, forced a little chearfulness intoher countenance, and, exerting all the spirits she could raise withinherself, expressed her hopes of seeing a speedy end to theirsufferings. She then asked her husband what she should do for him, andto whom she should apply for his deliverance? "You know, my dear, " cries Booth, "that the doctor is to be in townsome time to-day. My hopes of immediate redemption are only in him;and, if that can be obtained, I make no doubt but of the success ofthat affair which is in the hands of a gentleman who hath faithfullypromised, and in whose power I am so well assured it is to serve me. " Thus did this poor man support his hopes by a dependence on thatticket which he had so dearly purchased of one who pretended to managethe wheels in the great state lottery of preferment. A lottery, indeed, which hath this to recommend it--that many poor wretches feedtheir imaginations with the prospect of a prize during their wholelives, and never discover they have drawn a blank. Amelia, who was of a pretty sanguine temper, and was entirely ignorantof these matters, was full as easy to be deceived into hopes as herhusband; but in reality at present she turned her eyes to no distantprospect, the desire of regaining her husband's liberty havingengrossed her whole mind. While they were discoursing on these matters they heard a violentnoise in the house, and immediately after several persons passed bytheir door up-stairs to the apartment over their head. This greatlyterrified the gentle spirit of Amelia, and she cried--"Good Heavens, my dear, must I leave you in this horrid place? I am terrified with athousand fears concerning you. " Booth endeavoured to comfort her, saying that he was in no manner ofdanger, and that he doubted not but that the doctor would soon be withhim--"And stay, my dear, " cries he; "now I recollect, suppose youshould apply to my old friend James; for I believe you are pretty wellsatisfied that your apprehensions of him were groundless. I have noreason to think but that he would be as ready to serve me asformerly. " Amelia turned pale as ashes at the name of James, and, instead ofmaking a direct answer to her husband, she laid hold of him, andcried, "My dear, I have one favour to beg of you, and I insist on yourgranting it me. " Booth readily swore he would deny her nothing. "It is only this, my dear, " said she, "that, if that detested colonelcomes, you will not see him. Let the people of the house tell him youare not here. " "He knows nothing of my being here, " answered Booth; "but why should Irefuse to see him if he should be kind enough to come hither to me?Indeed, my Amelia, you have taken a dislike to that man withoutsufficient reason. " "I speak not upon that account, " cries Amelia; "but I have had dreamslast night about you two. Perhaps you will laugh at my folly, but prayindulge it. Nay, I insist on your promise of not denying me. " "Dreams! my dear creature, " answered he. "What dream can you have hadof us?" "One too horrible to be mentioned, " replied she. --"I cannot think ofit without horrour; and, unless you will promise me not to see thecolonel till I return, I positively will never leave you. " "Indeed, my Amelia, " said Booth, "I never knew you unreasonablebefore. How can a woman of your sense talk of dreams?" "Suffer me to be once at least unreasonable, " said Amelia, "as you areso good-natured to say I am not often so. Consider what I have latelysuffered, and how weak my spirits must be at this time. " As Booth was going to speak, the bailiff, without any ceremony, entered the room, and cried, "No offence, I hope, madam; my wife, itseems, did not know you. She thought the captain had a mind for a bitof flesh by the bye. But I have quieted all matters; for I know youvery well: I have seen that handsome face many a time when I have beenwaiting upon the captain formerly. No offence, I hope, madam; but ifmy wife was as handsome as you are I should not look for worse goodsabroad. " Booth conceived some displeasure at this speech, but he did not thinkproper to express more than a pish; and then asked the bailiff whatwas the meaning of the noise they heard just now? "I know of no noise, " answered the bailiff. "Some of my men have beencarrying a piece of bad luggage up-stairs; a poor rascal that resistedthe law and justice; so I gave him a cut or two with a hanger. If theyshould prove mortal, he must thank himself for it. If a man will notbehave like a gentleman to an officer, he must take the consequence;but I must say that for you, captain, you behave yourself like agentleman, and therefore I shall always use you as such; and I hopeyou will find bail soon with all my heart. This is but a paultry sumto what the last was; and I do assure you there is nothing elseagainst you in the office. " The latter part of the bailiff's speech somewhat comforted Amelia, whohad been a little frightened by the former; and she soon after tookleave of her husband to go in quest of the doctor, who, as Amelia hadheard that morning, was expected in town that very day, which wassomewhat sooner than he had intended at his departure. Before she went, however, she left a strict charge with the bailiff, who ushered her very civilly downstairs, that if one Colonel Jamescame there to enquire for her husband he should deny that he wasthere. She then departed; and the bailiff immediately gave a very strictcharge to his wife, his maid, and his followers, that if one ColonelJames, or any one from him, should enquire after the captain, thatthey should let him know he had the captain above-stairs; for hedoubted not but that the colonel was one of Booth's creditors, and hehoped for a second bail-bond by his means. Chapter iii. _Containing matter pertinent to the history. _ Amelia, in her way to the doctor's, determined just to stop at her ownlodgings, which lay a little out of the road, and to pay a momentaryvisit to her children. This was fortunate enough; for, had she called at the doctor's house, she would have heard nothing of him, which would have caused in hersome alarm and disappointment; for the doctor was set down at Mrs. Atkinson's, where he was directed to Amelia's lodgings, to which hewent before he called at his own; and here Amelia now found himplaying with her two children. The doctor had been a little surprized at not finding Amelia at home, or any one that could give an account of her. He was now moresurprized to see her come in such a dress, and at the disorder whichhe very plainly perceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. Headdressed her first (for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, "My dear child, what is the matter? where is your husband?some mischief I am afraid hath happened to him in my absence. " "O my dear doctor!" answered Amelia, "sure some good angel hath sentyou hither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the mostmiserable condition in the very house whence your goodness formerlyredeemed him. " "Arrested!" cries the doctor. "Then it must be for some veryinconsiderable trifle. " "I wish it was, " said Amelia; "but it is for no less than fiftypound. " "Then, " cries the doctor, "he hath been disingenuous with me. He toldme he did not owe ten pounds in the world for which he was liable tobe sued. " "I know not what to say, " cries Amelia. "Indeed, I am afraid to tellyou the truth. " "How, child?" said the doctor--"I hope you will never disguise it toany one, especially to me. Any prevarication, I promise you, willforfeit my friendship for ever. " "I will tell you the whole, " cries Amelia, "and rely entirely on yourgoodness. " She then related the gaming story, not forgetting to set inthe fullest light, and to lay the strongest emphasis on, his promisenever to play again. The doctor fetched a deep sigh when he had heard Amelia's relation, and cried, "I am sorry, child, for the share you are to partake inyour husband's sufferings; but as for him, I really think he deservesno compassion. You say he hath promised never to play again, but Imust tell you he hath broke his promise to me already; for I had heardhe was formerly addicted to this vice, and had given him sufficientcaution against it. You will consider, child, I am already prettylargely engaged for him, every farthing of which I am sensible I mustpay. You know I would go to the utmost verge of prudence to serve you;but I must not exceed my ability, which is not very great; and I haveseveral families on my hands who are by misfortune alone brought towant. I do assure you I cannot at present answer for such a sum asthis without distressing my own circumstances. " "Then Heaven have mercy upon us all!" cries Amelia, "for we have noother friend on earth: my husband is undone, and these poor littlewretches must be starved. " The doctor cast his eyes on the children, and then cried, "I hope notso. I told you I must distress my circumstances, and I will distressthem this once on your account, and on the account of these poorlittle babes. But things must not go on any longer in this way. Youmust take an heroic resolution. I will hire a coach for you to-morrowmorning which shall carry you all down to my parsonage-house. Thereyou shall have my protection till something can be done for yourhusband; of which, to be plain with you, I at present see nolikelihood. " Amelia fell upon her knees in an ecstasy of thanksgiving to thedoctor, who immediately raised her up, and placed her in her chair. She then recollected herself, and said, "O my worthy friend, I havestill another matter to mention to you, in which I must have both youradvice and assistance. My soul blushes to give you all this trouble;but what other friend have I?--indeed, what other friend could I applyto so properly on such an occasion?" The doctor, with a very kind voice and countenance, desired her tospeak. She then said, "O sir! that wicked colonel whom I havementioned to you formerly hath picked some quarrel with my husband(for she did not think proper to mention the cause), and hath sent hima challenge. It came to my hand last night after he was arrested: Iopened and read it. " "Give it me, child, " said the doctor. She answered she had burnt it, as was indeed true. "But I remember itwas an appointment to meet with sword and pistol this morning at Hyde-park. " "Make yourself easy, my dear child, " cries the doctor; "I will takecare to prevent any mischief. " "But consider, my dear sir, " said she, "this is a tender matter. Myhusband's honour is to be preserved as well as his life. " "And so is his soul, which ought to be the dearest of all things, "cries the doctor. "Honour! nonsense! Can honour dictate to him todisobey the express commands of his Maker, in compliance with a customestablished by a set of blockheads, founded on false principles ofvirtue, in direct opposition to the plain and positive precepts ofreligion, and tending manifestly to give a sanction to ruffians, andto protect them in all the ways of impudence and villany?" "All this, I believe, is very true, " cries Amelia; "but yet you know, doctor, the opinion of the world. " "You talk simply, child, " cries the doctor. "What is the opinion ofthe world opposed to religion and virtue? but you are in the wrong. Itis not the opinion of the world; it is the opinion of the idle, ignorant, and profligate. It is impossible it should be the opinion ofone man of sense, who is in earnest in his belief of our religion. Chiefly, indeed, it hath been upheld by the nonsense of women, who, either from their extreme cowardice and desire of protection, or, asMr. Bayle thinks, from their excessive vanity, have been alwaysforward to countenance a set of hectors and bravoes, and to despiseall men of modesty and sobriety; though these are often, at thebottom, not only the better but the braver men. " "You know, doctor, " cries Amelia, "I have never presumed to argue withyou; your opinion is to me always instruction, and your word a law. " "Indeed, child, " cries the doctor, "I know you are a good woman; andyet I must observe to you, that this very desire of feeding thepassion of female vanity with the heroism of her man, old Homer seemsto make the characteristic of a bad and loose woman. He introducesHelen upbraiding her gallant with having quitted the fight, and leftthe victory to Menelaus, and seeming to be sorry that she had left herhusband only because he was the better duellist of the two: but in howdifferent a light doth he represent the tender and chaste love ofAndromache to her worthy Hector! she dissuades him from exposinghimself to danger, even in a just cause. This is indeed a weakness, but it is an amiable one, and becoming the true feminine character;but a woman who, out of heroic vanity (for so it is), would hazard notonly the life but the soul too of her husband in a duel, is a monster, and ought to be painted in no other character but that of a Fury. " "I assure you, doctor, " cries Amelia, "I never saw this matter in theodious light in which you have truly represented it, before. I amashamed to recollect what I have formerly said on this subject. Andyet, whilst the opinion of the world is as it is, one would wish tocomply as far as possible, especially as my husband is an officer ofthe army. If it can be done, therefore, with safety to his honour--" "Again honour!" cries the doctor; "indeed I will not suffer that nobleword to be so basely and barbarously prostituted. I have known some ofthese men of honour, as they call themselves, to be the most arrantrascals in the universe. " "Well, I ask your pardon, " said she; "reputation then, if you please, or any other word you like better; you know my meaning very well. " "I do know your meaning, " cries the doctor, "and Virgil knew it agreat while ago. The next time you see your friend Mrs. Atkinson, askher what it was made Dido fall in love with AEneas?" "Nay, dear sir, " said Amelia, "do not rally me so unmercifully; thinkwhere my poor husband is now. " "He is, " answered the doctor, "where I will presently be with him. Inthe mean time, do you pack up everything in order for your journey to-morrow; for if you are wise, you will not trust your husband a daylonger in this town--therefore to packing. " Amelia promised she would, though indeed she wanted not any warningfor her journey on this account; for when she packed up herself in thecoach, she packed up her all. However, she did not think proper tomention this to the doctor; for, as he was now in pretty good humour, she did not care to venture again discomposing his temper. The doctor then set out for Gray's-inn-lane, and, as soon as he wasgone, Amelia began to consider of her incapacity to take a journey inher present situation without even a clean shift. At last sheresolved, as she was possessed of seven guineas and a half, to go toher friend and redeem some of her own and her husband's linen out ofcaptivity; indeed just so much as would render it barely possible forthem to go out of town with any kind of decency. And this resolutionshe immediately executed. As soon as she had finished her business with the pawnbroker (if a manwho lends under thirty _per cent. _ deserves that name), he saidto her, "Pray, madam, did you know that man who was here yesterdaywhen you brought the picture?" Amelia answered in the negative. "Indeed, madam, " said the broker, "he knows you, though he did notrecollect you while you was here, as your hood was drawn over yourface; but the moment you was gone he begged to look at the picture, which I, thinking no harm, permitted. He had scarce looked upon itwhen he cried out, 'By heaven and earth it is her picture!' He thenasked me if I knew you. " "Indeed, " says I, "I never saw the ladybefore. " In this last particular, however, the pawnbroker a little savoured ofhis profession, and made a small deviation from the truth, for, whenthe man had asked him if he knew the lady, he answered she was somepoor undone woman who had pawned all her cloathes to him the daybefore; and I suppose, says he, this picture is the last of her goodsand chattels. This hint we thought proper to give the reader, as itmay chance to be material. Amelia answered coldly that she had taken so very little notice of theman that she scarce remembered he was there. "I assure you, madam, " says the pawnbroker, "he hath taken very greatnotice of you; for the man changed countenance upon what I said, andpresently after begged me to give him a dram. Oho! thinks I to myself, are you thereabouts? I would not be so much in love with some folks assome people are for more interest than I shall ever make of a thousandpound. " Amelia blushed, and said, with some peevishness, "That she knewnothing of the man, but supposed he was some impertinent fellow orother. " "Nay, madam, " answered the pawnbroker, "I assure you he is not worthyyour regard. He is a poor wretch, and I believe I am possessed of mostof his moveables. However, I hope you are not offended, for indeed hesaid no harm; but he was very strangely disordered, that is the truthof it. " Amelia was very desirous of putting an end to this conversation, andaltogether as eager to return to her children; she therefore bundledup her things as fast as she could, and, calling for a hackney-coach, directed the coachman to her lodgings, and bid him drive her home withall the haste he could. Chapter iv. _In which Dr Harrison visits Colonel James. _ The doctor, when he left Amelia, intended to go directly to Booth, buthe presently changed his mind, and determined first to call on thecolonel, as he thought it was proper to put an end to that matterbefore he gave Booth his liberty. The doctor found the two colonels, James and Bath, together. They bothreceived him very civilly, for James was a very well-bred man, andBath always shewed a particular respect to the clergy, he being indeeda perfect good Christian, except in the articles of fighting andswearing. Our divine sat some time without mentioning the subject of his errand, in hopes that Bath would go away, but when he found no likelihood ofthat (for indeed Bath was of the two much the most pleased with hiscompany), he told James that he had something to say to him relatingto Mr. Booth, which he believed he might speak before his brother. "Undoubtedly, sir, " said James; "for there can be no secrets betweenus which my brother may not hear. " "I come then to you, sir, " said the doctor, "from the most unhappywoman in the world, to whose afflictions you have very greatly andvery cruelly added by sending a challenge to her husband, which hathvery luckily fallen into her hands; for, had the man for whom youdesigned it received it, I am afraid you would not have seen me uponthis occasion. " "If I writ such a letter to Mr. Booth, sir, " said James, "you may beassured I did not expect this visit in answer to it. " [Illustration: Dr. Harrison. ] "I do not think you did, " cries the doctor; "but you have great reasonto thank Heaven for ordering this matter contrary to yourexpectations. I know not what trifle may have drawn this challengefrom you, but, after what I have some reason to know of you, sir, Imust plainly tell you that, if you had added to your guilt alreadycommitted against this man, that of having his blood upon your hands, your soul would have become as black as hell itself. " "Give me leave to say, " cries the colonel, "this is a language which Iam not used to hear; and if your cloth was not your protection youshould not give it me with impunity. After what you know of me, sir!What do you presume to know of me to my disadvantage?" "You say my cloth is my protection, colonel, " answered the doctor;"therefore pray lay aside your anger: I do not come with any design ofaffronting or offending you. " "Very well, " cries Bath; "that declaration is sufficient from aclergyman, let him say what he pleases. " "Indeed, sir, " says the doctor very mildly, "I consult equally thegood of you both, and, in a spiritual sense, more especially yours;for you know you have injured this poor man. " "So far on the contrary, " cries James, "that I have been his greatestbenefactor. I scorn to upbraid him, but you force me to it. Nor have Iever done him the least injury. " "Perhaps not, " said the doctor; "I will alter what I have said. Butfor this I apply to your honour--Have you not intended him an injury, the very intention of which cancels every obligation?" "How, sir?" answered the colonel; "what do you mean?" "My meaning, " replied the doctor, "is almost too tender to mention. Come, colonel, examine your own heart, and then answer me, on yourhonour, if you have not intended to do him the highest wrong which oneman can do another?" "I do not know what you mean by the question, " answered the colonel. "D--n me, the question is very transparent! "cries Bath. " From anyother man it would be an affront with the strongest emphasis, but fromone of the doctor's cloth it demands a categorical answer. " "I am not a papist, sir, " answered Colonel James, "nor am I obliged toconfess to my priest. But if you have anything to say speak openly, for I do not understand your meaning. " "I have explained my meaning to you already, " said the doctor, "in aletter I wrote to you on the subject--a subject which I am sorry Ishould have any occasion to write upon to a Christian. " "I do remember now, " cries the colonel, "that I received a veryimpertinent letter, something like a sermon, against adultery; but Idid not expect to hear the author own it to my face. " "That brave man then, sir, " answered the doctor, "stands before youwho dares own he wrote that letter, and dares affirm too that it waswrit on a just and strong foundation. But if the hardness of yourheart could prevail on you to treat my good intention with contemptand scorn, what, pray, could induce you to shew it, nay, to give itMr. Booth? What motive could you have for that, unless you meant toinsult him, and provoke your rival to give you that opportunity ofputting him out of the world, which you have since wickedly sought byyour challenge?" "I give him the letter!" said the colonel. "Yes, sir, " answered the doctor, "he shewed me the letter, andaffirmed that you gave it him at the masquerade. " "He is a lying rascal, then!" said the colonel very passionately. "Iscarce took the trouble of reading the letter, and lost it out of mypocket. " Here Bath interfered, and explained this affair in the manner in whichit happened, and with which the reader is already acquainted. Heconcluded by great eulogiums on the performance, and declared it wasone of the most enthusiastic (meaning, perhaps, ecclesiastic) lettersthat ever was written. "And d--n me, " says he, "if I do not respectthe author with the utmost emphasis of thinking. " The doctor now recollected what had passed with Booth, and perceivedhe had made a mistake of one colonel for another. This he presentlyacknowledged to Colonel James, and said that the mistake had been his, and not Booth's. Bath now collected all his gravity and dignity, as he called it, intohis countenance, and, addressing himself to James, said, "And was thatletter writ to you, brother?--I hope you never deserved any suspicionof this kind. " "Brother, " cries James, "I am accountable to myself for my actions, and shall not render an account either to you or to that gentleman. " "As to me, brother, " answered Bath, "you say right; but I think thisgentleman may call you to an account; nay, I think it is his duty soto do. And let me tell you, brother, there is one much greater than heto whom you must give an account. Mrs. Booth is really a fine woman, alady of most imperious and majestic presence. I have heard you oftensay that you liked her; and, if you have quarrelled with her husbandupon this account, by all the dignity of man I think you ought to askhis pardon. " "Indeed, brother, " cries James, "I can bear this no longer--you willmake me angry presently. " "Angry! brother James, " cries Bath; "angry!--I love you, brother, andhave obligations to you. I will say no more, but I hope you know I donot fear making any man angry. " James answered he knew it well; and then the doctor, apprehending thatwhile he was stopping up one breach he should make another, presentlyinterfered, and turned the discourse back to Booth. "You tell me, sir, " said he to James, "that my gown is my protection; let it then atleast protect me where I have had no design in offending--where I haveconsulted your highest welfare, as in truth I did in writing thisletter. And if you did not in the least deserve any such suspicion, still you have no cause for resentment. Caution against sin, even tothe innocent, can never be unwholesome. But this I assure you, whatever anger you have to me, you can have none to poor Booth, whowas entirely ignorant of my writing to you, and who, I am certain, never entertained the least suspicion of you; on the contrary, reveresyou with the highest esteem, and love, and gratitude. Let me thereforereconcile all matters between you, and bring you together before hehath even heard of this challenge. " "Brother, " cries Bath, "I hope I shall not make you angry--I lie whenI say so; for I am indifferent to any man's anger. Let me be anaccessory to what the doctor hath said. I think I may be trusted withmatters of this nature, and it is a little unkind that, if youintended to send a challenge, you did not make me the bearer. But, indeed, as to what appears to me, this matter may be very well madeup; and, as Mr. Booth doth not know of the challenge, I don't see whyhe ever should, any more than your giving him the lie just now; butthat he shall never have from me, nor, I believe, from this gentleman;for, indeed, if he should, it would be incumbent upon him to cut yourthroat. " "Lookee, doctor, " said James, "I do not deserve the unkind suspicionyou just now threw out against me. I never thirsted after any man'sblood; and, as for what hath passed, since this discovery hathhappened, I may, perhaps, not think it worth my while to troublemyself any more about it. " The doctor was not contented with perhaps, he insisted on a firmpromise, to be bound with the colonel's honour. This at length heobtained, and then departed well satisfied. In fact, the colonel was ashamed to avow the real cause of the quarrelto this good man, or, indeed, to his brother Bath, who would not onlyhave condemned him equally with the doctor, but would possibly havequarrelled with him on his sister's account, whom, as the reader musthave observed, he loved above all things; and, in plain truth, thoughthe colonel was a brave man, and dared to fight, yet he was altogetheras willing to let it alone; and this made him now and then give alittle way to the wrongheadedness of Colonel Bath, who, with all theother principles of honour and humanity, made no more of cutting thethroat of a man upon any of his punctilios than a butcher doth ofkilling sheep. Chapter v. _What passed at the bailiff's house. _ The doctor now set forwards to his friend Booth, and, as he past bythe door of his attorney in the way, he called upon him and took himwith him. The meeting between him and Booth need not be expatiated on. Thedoctor was really angry, and, though he deferred his lecture to a moreproper opportunity, yet, as he was no dissembler (indeed, he wasincapable of any disguise), he could not put on a show of thatheartiness with which he had formerly used to receive his friend. Booth at last began himself in the following manner: "Doctor, I amreally ashamed to see you; and, if you knew the confusion of my soulon this occasion, I am sure you would pity rather than upbraid me; andyet I can say with great sincerity I rejoice in this last instance ofmy shame, since I am like to reap the most solid advantage from it. "The doctor stared at this, and Booth thus proceeded: "Since I havebeen in this wretched place I have employed my time almost entirely inreading over a series of sermons which are contained in that book(meaning Dr Barrow's works, which then lay on the table before him) inproof of the Christian religion; and so good an effect have they hadupon me, that I shall, I believe, be the better man for them as longas I live. I have not a doubt (for I own I have had such) whichremains now unsatisfied. If ever an angel might be thought to guidethe pen of a writer, surely the pen of that great and good man hadsuch an assistant. " The doctor readily concurred in the praises of DrBarrow, and added, "You say you have had your doubts, young gentleman;indeed, I did not know that--and, pray, what were your doubts?""Whatever they were, sir, " said Booth, "they are now satisfied, as Ibelieve those of every impartial and sensible reader will be if hewill, with due attention, read over these excellent sermons. " "Verywell, " answered the doctor, "though I have conversed, I find, with afalse brother hitherto, I am glad you are reconciled to truth at last, and I hope your future faith will have some influence on your futurelife. " "I need not tell you, sir, " replied Booth, "that will always bethe case where faith is sincere, as I assure you mine is. Indeed, Inever was a rash disbeliever; my chief doubt was founded on this--that, as men appeared to me to act entirely from their passions, theiractions could have neither merit nor demerit. " "A very worthyconclusion truly!" cries the doctor; "but if men act, as I believethey do, from their passions, it would be fair to conclude thatreligion to be true which applies immediately to the strongest ofthese passions, hope and fear; chusing rather to rely on its rewardsand punishments than on that native beauty of virtue which some of theantient philosophers thought proper to recommend to their disciples. But we will defer this discourse till another opportunity; at present, as the devil hath thought proper to set you free, I will try if I canprevail on the bailiff to do the same. " The doctor had really not so much money in town as Booth's debtamounted to, and therefore, though he would otherwise very willinglyhave paid it, he was forced to give bail to the action. For whichpurpose, as the bailiff was a man of great form, he was obliged to getanother person to be bound with him. This person, however, theattorney undertook to procure, and immediately set out in quest ofhim. During his absence the bailiff came into the room, and, addressinghimself to the doctor, said, "I think, sir, your name is DoctorHarrison?" The doctor immediately acknowledged his name. Indeed, thebailiff had seen it to a bail-bond before. "Why then, sir, " said thebailiff, "there is a man above in a dying condition that desires thefavour of speaking to you; I believe he wants you to pray by him. " The bailiff himself was not more ready to execute his office on alloccasions for his fee than the doctor was to execute his for nothing. Without making any further enquiry therefore into the condition of theman, he immediately went up-stairs. As soon as the bailiff returned down-stairs, which was immediatelyafter he had lodged the doctor in the room, Booth had the curiosity toask him who this man was. "Why, I don't know much of him, " said thebailiff; "I had him once in custody before now: I remember it was whenyour honour was here last; and now I remember, too, he said that heknew your honour very well. Indeed, I had some opinion of him at thattime, for he spent his money very much like a gentleman; but I havediscovered since that he is a poor fellow, and worth nothing. He is amere shy cock; I have had the stuff about me this week, and couldnever get at him till this morning; nay, I don't believe we shouldever have found out his lodgings had it not been for the attorney thatwas here just now, who gave us information. And so we took him thismorning by a comical way enough; for we dressed up one of my men inwomen's cloathes, who told the people of the house that he was hissister, just come to town--for we were told by the attorney that hehad such a sister, upon which he was let up-stairs--and so kept thedoor ajar till I and another rushed in. Let me tell you, captain, there are as good stratagems made use of in our business as any in thearmy. " "But pray, sir, " said Booth, "did not you tell me this morning thatthe poor fellow was desperately wounded; nay, I think you told thedoctor that he was a dying man?" "I had like to have forgot that, "cries the bailiff. "Nothing would serve the gentleman but that he mustmake resistance, and he gave my man a blow with a stick; but I soonquieted him by giving him a wipe or two with a hanger. Not that, Ibelieve, I have done his business neither; but the fellow is faint-hearted, and the surgeon, I fancy, frightens him more than he need. But, however, let the worst come to the worst, the law is all on myside, and it is only _se fendendo_. The attorney that was here justnow told me so, and bid me fear nothing; for that he would stand myfriend, and undertake the cause; and he is a devilish good one at adefence at the Old Bailey, I promise you. I have known him bring offseveral that everybody thought would have been hanged. " "But suppose you should be acquitted, " said Booth, "would not theblood of this poor wretch lie a little heavy at your heart?" "Why should it, captain?" said the bailiff. "Is not all done in alawful way? Why will people resist the law when they know theconsequence? To be sure, if a man was to kill another in an unlawfulmanner as it were, and what the law calls murder, that is quite andclear another thing. I should not care to be convicted of murder anymore than another man. Why now, captain, you have been abroad in thewars they tell me, and to be sure must have killed men in your time. Pray, was you ever afraid afterwards of seeing their ghosts?" "That is a different affair, " cries Booth; "but I would not kill a manin cold blood for all the world. " "There is no difference at all, as I can see, " cries the bailiff. "Oneis as much in the way of business as the other. When gentlemen behavethemselves like unto gentlemen I know how to treat them as such aswell as any officer the king hath; and when they do not, why they musttake what follows, and the law doth not call it murder. " Booth very plainly saw that the bailiff had squared his conscienceexactly according to law, and that he could not easily subvert his wayof thinking. He therefore gave up the cause, and desired the bailiffto expedite the bonds, which he promised to do; saying, he hoped hehad used him with proper civility this time, if he had not the last, and that he should be remembered for it. But before we close this chapter we shall endeavour to satisfy anenquiry, which may arise in our most favourite readers (for so are themost curious), how it came to pass that such a person as was DoctorHarrison should employ such a fellow as this Murphy? The case then was thus: this Murphy had been clerk to an attorney inthe very same town in which the doctor lived, and, when he was out ofhis time, had set up with a character fair enough, and had married amaid-servant of Mrs. Harris, by which means he had all the business towhich that lady and her friends, in which number was the doctor, couldrecommend him. Murphy went on with his business, and thrived very well, till hehappened to make an unfortunate slip, in which he was detected by abrother of the same calling. But, though we call this by the gentlename of a slip, in respect to its being so extremely common, it was amatter in which the law, if it had ever come to its ears, would havepassed a very severe censure, being, indeed, no less than perjury andsubornation of perjury. This brother attorney, being a very good-natured man, and unwilling tobespatter his own profession, and considering, perhaps, that theconsequence did in no wise affect the public, who had no manner ofinterest in the alternative whether A. , in whom the right was, or B. , to whom Mr. Murphy, by the means aforesaid, had transferred it, succeeded in an action; we mention this particular, because, as thisbrother attorney was a very violent party man, and a professedstickler for the public, to suffer any injury to have been done tothat, would have been highly inconsistent with his principles. This gentleman, therefore, came to Mr. Murphy, and, after shewing himthat he had it in his power to convict him of the aforesaid crime, very generously told him that he had not the least delight in bringingany man to destruction, nor the least animosity against him. All thathe insisted upon was, that he would not live in the same town orcounty with one who had been guilty of such an action. He then toldMr. Murphy that he would keep the secret on two conditions; the onewas, that he immediately quitted that country; the other was, that heshould convince him he deserved this kindness by his gratitude, andthat Murphy should transfer to the other all the business which hethen had in those parts, and to which he could possibly recommend him. It is the observation of a very wise man, that it is a very commonexercise of wisdom in this world, of two evils to chuse the least. Thereader, therefore, cannot doubt but that Mr. Murphy complied with thealternative proposed by his kind brother, and accepted the terms onwhich secrecy was to be obtained. This happened while the doctor was abroad, and with all this, exceptthe departure of Murphy, not only the doctor, but the whole town (savehis aforesaid brother alone), were to this day unacquainted. The doctor, at his return, hearing that Mr. Murphy was gone, appliedto the other attorney in his affairs, who still employed this Murphyas his agent in town, partly, perhaps, out of good will to him, andpartly from the recommendation of Miss Harris; for, as he had marrieda servant of the family, and a particular favourite of hers, there canbe no wonder that she, who was entirely ignorant of the affair aboverelated, as well as of his conduct in town, should continue her favourto him. It will appear, therefore, I apprehend, no longer strange thatthe doctor, who had seen this man but three times since his removal totown, and then conversed with him only on business, should remain asignorant of his life and character, as a man generally is of thecharacter of the hackney-coachman who drives him. Nor doth it reflectmore on the honour or understanding of the doctor, under thesecircumstances, to employ Murphy, than it would if he had been drivenabout the town by a thief or a murderer. Chapter vi. _What passed between the doctor and the sick man. _ We left the doctor in the last chapter with the wounded man, to whomthe doctor, in a very gentle voice, spoke as follows:-- "I am sorry, friend, to see you in this situation, and am very readyto give you any comfort or assistance within my power. " "I thank you kindly, doctor, " said the man. "Indeed I should not havepresumed to have sent to you had I not known your character; for, though I believe I am not at all known to you, I have lived many yearsin that town where you yourself had a house; my name is Robinson. Iused to write for the attorneys in those parts, and I have beenemployed on your business in my time. " "I do not recollect you nor your name, " said the doctor; "butconsider, friend, your moments are precious, and your business, as Iam informed, is to offer up your prayers to that great Being beforewhom you are shortly to appear. But first let me exhort you earnestlyto a most serious repentance of all your sins. " "O doctor!" said the man; "pray; what is your opinion of a death-bedrepentance?" "If repentance is sincere, " cries the doctor, "I hope, through themercies and merits of our most powerful and benign Intercessor, itwill never come too late. " "But do not you think, sir, " cries the man, "that, in order to obtainforgiveness of any great sin we have committed, by an injury done toour neighbours, it is necessary, as far as in us lies, to make all theamends we can to the party injured, and to undo, if possible, theinjury we have done?" "Most undoubtedly, " cries the doctor; "our pretence to repentancewould otherwise be gross hypocrisy, and an impudent attempt to deceiveand impose upon our Creator himself. " "Indeed, I am of the same opinion, " cries the penitent; "and I thinkfurther, that this is thrown in my way, and hinted to me by that greatBeing; for an accident happened to me yesterday, by which, as thingshave fallen out since, I think I plainly discern the hand ofProvidence. I went yesterday, sir, you must know, to a pawnbroker's, to pawn the last moveable, which, except the poor cloathes you see onmy back, I am worth in the world. While I was there a young lady camein to pawn her picture. She had disguised herself so much, and pulledher hood so over her face, that I did not know her while she stayed, which was scarce three minutes. As soon as she was gone thepawnbroker, taking the picture in his hand, cried out, _Upon myword, this is the handsomest face I ever saw in my life!_ I desiredhim to let me look on the picture, which he readily did--and I nosooner cast my eyes upon it, than the strong resemblance struck me, and I knew it to be Mrs. Booth. " "Mrs. Booth! what Mrs. Booth?" cries the doctor. "Captain Booth's lady, the captain who is now below, " said the other. "How?" cries the doctor with great impetuosity. "Have patience, " said the man, "and you shall hear all. I expressedsome surprize to the pawnbroker, and asked the lady's name. Heanswered, that he knew not her name; but that she was some undonewretch, who had the day before left all her cloathes with him in pawn. My guilt immediately flew in my face, and told me I had been accessoryto this lady's undoing. The sudden shock so affected me, that, had itnot been for a dram which the pawnbroker gave me, I believe I shouldhave sunk on the spot. " "Accessary to her undoing! how accessary?" said the doctor. "Pray tellme, for I am impatient to hear. " "I will tell you all as fast as I can, " cries the sick man. "You know, good doctor, that Mrs. Harris of our town had two daughters, this Mrs. Booth and another. Now, sir, it seems the other daughter had, some wayor other, disobliged her mother a little before the old lady died;therefore she made a will, and left all her fortune, except onethousand pound, to Mrs. Booth; to which will Mr. Murphy, myself, andanother who is now dead, were the witnesses. Mrs. Harris afterwardsdied suddenly; upon which it was contrived by her other daughter andMr. Murphy to make a new will, in which Mrs. Booth had a legacy of tenpound, and all the rest was given to the other. To this will, Murphy, myself, and the same third person, again set our hands. " "Good Heaven! how wonderful is thy providence!" cries the doctor--"Murphy, say you?" "He himself, sir, " answered Robinson; "Murphy, who is the greatestrogue, I believe, now in the world. " "Pray, sir, proceed, " cries the doctor. "For this service, sir, " said Robinson, "myself and the third person, one Carter, received two hundred pound each. What reward Murphyhimself had I know not. Carter died soon afterwards; and from thattime, at several payments, I have by threats extorted above a hundredpound more. And this, sir, is the whole truth, which I am ready totestify if it would please Heaven to prolong my life. " "I hope it will, " cries the doctor; "but something must be done forfear of accidents. I will send to counsel immediately to know how tosecure your testimony. --Whom can I get to send?--Stay, ay--he will do--but I know not where his house or his chambers are. I will go myself--but I may be wanted here. " While the doctor was in this violent agitation the surgeon made hisappearance. The doctor stood still in a meditating posture, while thesurgeon examined his patient. After which the doctor begged him todeclare his opinion, and whether he thought the wounded man in anyimmediate danger of death. "I do not know, " answered the surgeon, "what you call immediate. He may live several days--nay, he mayrecover. It is impossible to give any certain opinion in these cases. "He then launched forth into a set of terms which the doctor, with allhis scholarship, could not understand. To say the truth, many of themwere not to be found in any dictionary or lexicon. One discovery, however, the doctor made, and that was, that thesurgeon was a very ignorant, conceited fellow, and knew nothing of hisprofession. He resolved, therefore, to get better advice for the sick;but this he postponed at present, and, applying himself to thesurgeon, said, "He should be very much obliged to him if he knew whereto find such a counsellor, and would fetch him thither. I should notask such a favour of you, sir, " says the doctor, "if it was not onbusiness of the last importance, or if I could find any othermessenger. " "I fetch, sir!" said the surgeon very angrily. "Do you take me for afootman or a porter? I don't know who you are; but I believe you arefull as proper to go on such an errand as I am. " (For as the doctor, who was just come off his journey, was very roughly dressed, thesurgeon held him in no great respect. ) The surgeon then called aloudfrom the top of the stairs, "Let my coachman draw up, " and struttedoff without any ceremony, telling his patient he would call again thenext day. At this very instant arrived Murphy with the other bail, and, findingBooth alone, he asked the bailiff at the door what was become of thedoctor? "Why, the doctor, " answered he, "is above-stairs, praying with-----. " "How!" cries Murphy. "How came you not to carry him directlyto Newgate, as you promised me?" "Why, because he was wounded, " criesthe bailiff. "I thought it was charity to take care of him; and, besides, why should one make more noise about the matter than isnecessary?" "And Doctor Harrison with him?" said Murphy. "Yes, he is, "said the bailiff; "he desired to speak with the doctor very much, andthey have been praying together almost this hour. " "All is up andundone!" cries Murphy. "Let me come by, I have thought of somethingwhich I must do immediately. " Now, as by means of the surgeon's leaving the door open the doctorheard Murphy's voice naming Robinson peevishly, he drew softly to thetop of the stairs, where he heard the foregoing dialogue; and as soonas Murphy had uttered his last words, and was moving downwards, thedoctor immediately sallied from his post, running as fast as he could, and crying, Stop the villain! stop the thief! The attorney wanted no better hint to accelerate his pace; and, havingthe start of the doctor, got downstairs, and out into the street; butthe doctor was so close at his heels, and being in foot the nimbler ofthe two, he soon overtook him, and laid hold of him, as he would havedone on either Broughton or Slack in the same cause. This action in the street, accompanied with the frequent cry of Stopthief by the doctor during the chase, presently drew together a largemob, who began, as is usual, to enter immediately upon business, andto make strict enquiry into the matter, in order to proceed to dojustice in their summary way. Murphy, who knew well the temper of the mob, cried out, "If you are abailiff, shew me your writ. Gentlemen, he pretends to arrest me herewithout a writ. " Upon this, one of the sturdiest and forwardest of the mob, and who bya superior strength of body and of lungs presided in this assembly, declared he would suffer no such thing. "D--n me, " says he, "away tothe pump with the catchpole directly--shew me your writ, or let thegentleman go--you shall not arrest a man contrary to law. " He then laid his hands on the doctor, who, still fast griping theattorney, cried out, "He is a villain--I am no bailiff, but aclergyman, and this lawyer is guilty of forgery, and hath ruined apoor family. " "How!" cries the spokesman--"a lawyer!--that alters the case. " "Yes, faith, " cries another of the mob, "it is lawyer Murphy. I knowhim very well. " "And hath he ruined a poor family?--like enough, faith, if he's alawyer. Away with him to the justice immediately. " The bailiff now came up, desiring to know what was the matter; to whomDoctor Harrison answered that he had arrested that villain for aforgery. "How can you arrest him?" cries the bailiff; "you are noofficer, nor have any warrant. Mr. Murphy is a gentleman, and he shallbe used as such. " "Nay, to be sure, " cries the spokesman, "there ought to be a warrant;that's the truth on't. " "There needs no warrant, " cries the doctor. "I accuse him of felony;and I know so much of the law of England, that any man may arrest afelon without any warrant whatever. This villain hath undone a poorfamily; and I will die on the spot before I part with him. " "If the law be so, " cries the orator, "that is another matter. And tobe sure, to ruin a poor man is the greatest of sins. And being alawyer too makes it so much the worse. He shall go before the justice, d--n me if he shan't go before the justice! I says the word, heshall. " "I say he is a gentleman, and shall be used according to law, " criesthe bailiff; "and, though you are a clergyman, " said he to Harrison, "you don't shew yourself as one by your actions. " "That's a bailiff, " cries one of the mob: "one lawyer will alwaysstand by another; but I think the clergyman is a very good man, andacts becoming a clergyman, to stand by the poor. " At which words the mob all gave a great shout, and several cried out, "Bring him along, away with him to the justice!" And now a constable appeared, and with an authoritative voice declaredwhat he was, produced his staff, and demanded the peace. The doctor then delivered his prisoner over to the officer, andcharged him with felony; the constable received him, the attorneysubmitted, the bailiff was hushed, and the waves of the mobimmediately subsided. The doctor now balanced with himself how he should proceed: at last hedetermined to leave Booth a little longer in captivity, and not toquit sight of Murphy before he had lodged him safe with a magistrate. They then all moved forwards to the justice; the constable and hisprisoner marching first, the doctor and the bailiff following next, and about five thousand mob (for no less number were assembled in avery few minutes) following in the procession. They found the magistrate just sitting down to his dinner; however, when he was acquainted with the doctor's profession, he immediatelyadmitted him, and heard his business; which he no sooner perfectlyunderstood, with all its circumstances, than he resolved, though itwas then very late, and he had been fatigued all the morning withpublic business, to postpone all refreshment till he had dischargedhis duty. He accordingly adjourned the prisoner and his cause to thebailiff's house, whither he himself, with the doctor, immediatelyrepaired, and whither the attorney was followed by a much largernumber of attendants than he had been honoured with before. Chapter vii. _In which the history draws towards a conclusion. _ Nothing could exceed the astonishment of Booth at the behaviour of thedoctor at the time when he sallied forth in pursuit of the attorney;for which it was so impossible for him to account in any mannerwhatever. He remained a long time in the utmost torture of mind, tillat last the bailif's wife came to him, and asked him if the doctor wasnot a madman? and, in truth, he could hardly defend him from thatimputation. While he was in this perplexity the maid of the house brought him amessage from Robinson, desiring the favour of seeing him above-stairs. With this he immediately complied. When these two were alone together, and the key turned on them (forthe bailiff's wife was a most careful person, and never omitted thatceremony in the absence of her husband, having always at her tongue'send that excellent proverb of "Safe bind, safe find"), Robinson, looking stedfastly upon Booth, said, "I believe, sir, you scarceremember me. " Booth answered that he thought he had seen his face somewhere before, but could not then recollect when or where. "Indeed, sir, " answered the man, "it was a place which no man canremember with pleasure. But do you not remember, a few weeks ago, thatyou had the misfortune to be in a certain prison in this town, whereyou lost a trifling sum at cards to a fellow-prisoner?" This hint sufficiently awakened Booth's memory, and he now recollectedthe features of his old friend Robinson. He answered him a littlesurlily, "I know you now very well, but I did not imagine you wouldever have reminded me of that transaction. " "Alas, sir!" answered Robinson, "whatever happened then was verytrifling compared to the injuries I have done you; but if my life bespared long enough I will now undo it all: and, as I have been one ofyour worst enemies, I will now be one of your best friends. " He was just entering upon his story when a noise was heard below whichmight be almost compared to what have been heard in Holland when thedykes have given way, and the ocean in an inundation breaks in uponthe land. It seemed, indeed, as if the whole world was bursting intothe house at once. Booth was a man of great firmness of mind, and he had need of it allat this instant. As for poor Robinson, the usual concomitants of guiltattended him, and he began to tremble in a violent manner. The first person who ascended the stairs was the doctor, who no soonersaw Booth than he ran to him and embraced him, crying, "My child, Iwish you joy with all my heart. Your sufferings are all at an end, andProvidence hath done you the justice at last which it will, one day orother, render to all men. You will hear all presently; but I can nowonly tell you that your sister is discovered and the estate is yourown. " Booth was in such confusion that he scarce made any answer, and nowappeared the justice and his clerk, and immediately afterwards theconstable with his prisoner, the bailiff, and as many more as couldpossibly crowd up-stairs. The doctor now addressed himself to the sick man, and desired him torepeat the same information before the justice which he had madealready; to which Robinson readily consented. While the clerk was taking down the information, the attorneyexpressed a very impatient desire to send instantly for his clerk, andexpressed so much uneasiness at the confusion in which he had left hispapers at home, that a thought suggested itself to the doctor that, ifhis house was searched, some lights and evidence relating to thisaffair would certainly be found; he therefore desired the justice togrant a search-warrant immediately to search his house. The justice answered that he had no such power; that, if there was anysuspicion of stolen goods, he could grant a warrant to search forthem. "How, sir!" said the doctor, "can you grant a warrant to search aman's house for a silver tea-spoon, and not in a case like this, wherea man is robbed of his whole estate?" "Hold, sir, " says the sick man; "I believe I can answer that point;for I can swear he hath several title-deeds of the estate now in hispossession, which I am sure were stolen from the right owner. " The justice still hesitated. He said title-deeds savoured of theRealty, and it was not felony to steal them. If, indeed, they weretaken away in a box, then it would be felony to steal the box. "Savour of the Realty! Savour of the f--talty, " said the doctor. "Inever heard such incomprehensible nonsense. This is impudent, as wellas childish trifling with the lives and properties of men. " "Well, sir, " said Robinson, "I now am sure I can do his business; forI know he hath a silver cup in his possession which is the property ofthis gentleman (meaning Booth), and how he got it but by stealth lethim account if he can. " "That will do, " cries the justice with great pleasure. "That will do;and if you will charge him on oath with that, I will instantly grantmy warrant to search his house for it. " "And I will go and see itexecuted, " cries the doctor; for it was a maxim of his, that no mancould descend below himself in doing any act which may contribute toprotect an innocent person, or to bring a rogue to the gallows. The oath was instantly taken, the warrant signed, and the doctorattended the constable in the execution of it. The clerk then proceeded in taking the information of Robinson, andhad just finished it, when the doctor returned with the utmost joy inhis countenance, and declared that he had sufficient evidence of thefact in his possession. He had, indeed, two or three letters from MissHarris in answer to the attorney's frequent demands of money forsecrecy, that fully explained the whole villany. The justice now asked the prisoner what he had to say for himself, orwhether he chose to say anything in his own defence. "Sir, " said the attorney, with great confidence, "I am not to defendmyself here. It will be of no service to me; for I know you neithercan nor will discharge me. But I am extremely innocent of all thismatter, as I doubt not but to make appear to the satisfaction of acourt of justice. " The legal previous ceremonies were then gone through of binding overthe prosecutor, &c. , and then the attorney was committed to Newgate, whither he was escorted amidst the acclamations of the populace. When Murphy was departed, and a little calm restored in the house, thejustice made his compliments of congratulation to Booth, who, as wellas he could in his present tumult of joy, returned his thanks to boththe magistrate and the doctor. They were now all preparing to depart, when Mr. Bondum stept up to Booth, and said, "Hold, sir, you haveforgot one thing--you have not given bail yet. " This occasioned some distress at this time, for the attorney's friendwas departed; but when the justice heard this, he immediately offeredhimself as the other bondsman, and thus ended the affair. It was now past six o'clock, and none of the gentlemen had yet dined. They very readily, therefore, accepted the magistrate's invitation, and went all together to his house. And now the very first thing that was done, even before they sat downto dinner, was to dispatch a messenger to one of the best surgeons intown to take care of Robinson, and another messenger to Booth'slodgings to prevent Amelia's concern at their staying so long. The latter, however, was to little purpose; for Amelia's patience hadbeen worn out before, and she had taken a hackney-coach and driven tothe bailiff's, where she arrived a little after the departure of herhusband, and was thence directed to the justice's. Though there was no kind of reason for Amelia's fright at hearing thather husband and Doctor Harrison were gone before the justice, andthough she indeed imagined that they were there in the light ofcomplainants, not of offenders, yet so tender were her fears for herhusband, and so much had her gentle spirits been lately agitated, thatshe had a thousand apprehensions of she knew not what. When shearrived, therefore, at the house, she ran directly into the room whereall the company were at dinner, scarce knowing what she did or whithershe was going. She found her husband in such a situation, and discovered suchchearfulness in his countenance, that so violent a turn was given toher spirits that she was just able, with the assistance of a glass ofwater, to support herself. She soon, however, recovered her calmness, and in a little time began to eat what might indeed be almost calledher breakfast. The justice now wished her joy of what had happened that day, forwhich she kindly thanked him, apprehending he meant the liberty of herhusband. His worship might perhaps have explained himself more largelyhad not the doctor given him a timely wink; for this wise and good manwas fearful of making such a discovery all at once to Amelia, lest itshould overpower her, and luckily the justice's wife was not wellenough acquainted with the matter to say anything more on it thanbarely to assure the lady that she joined in her husband'scongratulation. Amelia was then in a clean white gown, which she had that dayredeemed, and was, indeed, dressed all over with great neatness andexactness; with the glow therefore which arose in her features fromfinding her husband released from his captivity, she made so charminga figure, that she attracted the eyes of the magistrate and of hiswife, and they both agreed when they were alone that they had neverseen so charming a creature; nay, Booth himself afterwards told herthat he scarce ever remembered her to look so extremely beautiful asshe did that evening. Whether Amelia's beauty, or the reflexion on the remarkable act ofjustice he had performed, or whatever motive filled the magistratewith extraordinary good humour, and opened his heart and cellars, Iwill not determine; but he gave them so hearty a welcome, and theywere all so pleased with each other, that Amelia, for that one night, trusted the care of her children to the woman where they lodged, nordid the company rise from table till the clock struck eleven. They then separated. Amelia and Booth, having been set down at theirlodgings, retired into each other's arms; nor did Booth that evening, by the doctor's advice, mention one word of the grand affair to hiswife. Chapter viii. _Thus this history draws nearer to a conclusion. _ In the morning early Amelia received the following letter from Mrs. Atkinson: "The surgeon of the regiment, to which the captain my husband latelybelonged, and who came this evening to see the captain, hath almostfrightened me out of my wits by a strange story of your husband beingcommitted to prison by a justice of peace for forgery. For Heaven'ssake send me the truth. If my husband can be of any service, weak ashe is, he will be carried in a chair to serve a brother officer forwhom he hath a regard, which I need not mention. Or if the sum oftwenty pound will be of any service to you, I will wait upon you withit the moment I can get my cloaths on, the morning you receive this;for it is too late to send to-night. The captain begs his heartyservice and respects, and believe me, "Dear Madam, Your ever affectionate friend, and humble servant, F. ATKINSON. " When Amelia read this letter to Booth they were both equallysurprized, she at the commitment for forgery, and he at seeing such aletter from Mrs. Atkinson; for he was a stranger yet to thereconciliation that had happened. Booth's doubts were first satisfied by Amelia, from which he receivedgreat pleasure; for he really had a very great affection and fondnessfor Mr. Atkinson, who, indeed, so well deserved it. "Well, my dear, "said he to Amelia, smiling, "shall we accept this generous offer?" "O fy! no, certainly, " answered she. "Why not?" cries Booth; "it is but a trifle; and yet it will be ofgreat service to us. " "But consider, my dear, " said she, "how ill these poor people canspare it. " "They can spare it for a little while, " said Booth, "and we shall soonpay it them again. " "When, my dear?" said Amelia. "Do, my dear Will, consider our wretchedcircumstances. I beg you let us go into the country immediately, andlive upon bread and water till Fortune pleases to smile upon us. " "I am convinced that day is not far off, " said Booth. "However, giveme leave to send an answer to Mrs. Atkinson, that we shall be glad ofher company immediately to breakfast. " "You know I never contradict you, " said she, "but I assure you it iscontrary to my inclinations to take this money. " "Well, suffer me, " cries he, "to act this once contrary to yourinclinations. " He then writ a short note to Mrs. Atkinson, anddispatched it away immediately; which when he had done, Amelia said, "I shall be glad of Mrs. Atkinson's company to breakfast; but yet Iwish you would oblige me in refusing this money. Take five guineasonly. That is indeed such a sum as, if we never should pay it, wouldsit light on my mind. The last persons in the world from whom I wouldreceive favours of that sort are the poor and generous. " "You can receive favours only from the generous, " cries Booth; "and, to be plain with you, there are very few who are generous that are notpoor. " "What think you, " said she, "of Dr Harrison?" "I do assure you, " said Booth, "he is far from being rich. The doctorhath an income of little more than six hundred pound a-year, and I amconvinced he gives away four of it. Indeed, he is one of the besteconomists in the world: but yet I am positive he never was at anytime possessed of five hundred pound, since he hath been a man. Consider, dear Emily, the late obligations we have to this gentleman;it would be unreasonable to expect more, at least at present; my half-pay is mortgaged for a year to come. How then shall we live?" "By our labour, " answered she; "I am able to labour, and I am sure Iam not ashamed of it. " "And do you really think you can support such a life?" "I am sure I could be happy in it, " answered Amelia. "And why not I aswell as a thousand others, who have not the happiness of such ahusband to make life delicious? why should I complain of my hard fatewhile so many who are much poorer than I enjoy theirs? Am I of asuperior rank of being to the wife of the honest labourer? am I notpartaker of one common nature with her?" "My angel, " cries Booth, "it delights me to hear you talk thus, andfor a reason you little guess; for I am assured that one who can soheroically endure adversity, will bear prosperity with equal greatnessof soul; for the mind that cannot be dejected by the former, is notlikely to be transported with the latter. " "If it had pleased Heaven, " cried she, "to have tried me, I think, atleast I hope, I should have preserved my humility. " "Then, my dear, " said he, "I will relate you a dream I had last night. You know you lately mentioned a dream of yours. " "Do so, " said she; "I am attentive. " "I dreamt, " said he, "this night, that we were in the most miserablesituation imaginable; indeed, in the situation we were yesterdaymorning, or rather worse; that I was laid in a prison for debt, andthat you wanted a morsel of bread to feed the mouths of your hungrychildren. At length (for nothing you know is quicker than thetransition in dreams) Dr Harrison methought came to me, withchearfulness and joy in his countenance. The prison-doors immediatelyflew open, and Dr Harrison introduced you, gayly though not richlydressed. That you gently chid me for staying so long. All on a suddenappeared a coach with four horses to it, in which was a maid-servantwith our two children. We both immediately went into the coach, and, taking our leave of the doctor, set out towards your country-house;for yours I dreamt it was. I only ask you now, if this was real, andthe transition almost as sudden, could you support it?" Amelia was going to answer, when Mrs. Atkinson came into the room, andafter very little previous ceremony, presented Booth with a bank-note, which he received of her, saying he would very soon repay it; apromise that a little offended Amelia, as she thought he had no chanceof keeping it. The doctor presently arrived, and the company sat down to breakfast, during which Mrs. Atkinson entertained them with the history of thedoctors that had attended her husband, by whose advice Atkinson wasrecovered from everything but the weakness which his distemper hadoccasioned. When the tea-table was removed Booth told the doctor that he hadacquainted his wife with a dream he had last night. "I dreamt, doctor, " said he, "that she was restored to her estate. " "Very well, " said the doctor; "and if I am to be the Oneiropolus, Ibelieve the dream will come to pass. To say the truth, I have rather abetter opinion of dreams than Horace had. Old Homer says they comefrom Jupiter; and as to your dream, I have often had it in my wakingthoughts, that some time or other that roguery (for so I was alwaysconvinced it was) would be brought to light; for the same Homer says, as you, madam (meaning Mrs. Atkinson), very well know, [Greek verses] [Footnote: "If Jupiter doth not immediately execute hisvengeance, he will however execute it at last; and theirtransgressions shall fall heavily on their own heads, and on theirwives and children. "] "I have no Greek ears, sir, " said Mrs. Atkinson. "I believe I couldunderstand it in the Delphin Homer. " "I wish, " cries he, "my dear child (to Amelia), you would read alittle in the Delphin Aristotle, or else in some Christian divine, tolearn a doctrine which you will one day have a use for. I mean to bearthe hardest of all human conflicts, and support with an even temper, and without any violent transports of mind, a sudden gust ofprosperity. " "Indeed, " cries Amelia, "I should almost think my husband and you, doctor, had some very good news to tell me, by your using, both ofyou, the same introduction. As far as I know myself, I think I cananswer I can support any degree of prosperity, and I think I yesterdayshewed I could: for I do assure you, it is not in the power of fortuneto try me with such another transition from grief to joy, as Iconceived from seeing my husband in prison and at liberty. " "Well, you are a good girl, " cries the doctor, "and after I have puton my spectacles I will try you. " The doctor then took out a newspaper, and read as follows: "'Yesterday one Murphy, an eminent attorney-at-law, was committed toNewgate for the forgery of a will under which an estate hath been formany years detained from the right owner. ' "Now in this paragraph there is something very remarkable, and thatis--that it is true: but _opus est explanatu_. In the Delphin editionof this newspaper there is the following note upon the words rightowner:--'The right owner of this estate is a young lady of the highestmerit, whose maiden name was Harris, and who some time since wasmarried to an idle fellow, one Lieutenant Booth. And the besthistorians assure us that letters from the elder sister of this lady, which manifestly prove the forgery and clear up the whole affair, arein the hands of an old Parson called Doctor Harrison. '" "And is this really true?" cries Amelia. "Yes, really and sincerely, " cries the doctor. "The whole estate; foryour mother left it you all, and is as surely yours as if you wasalready in possession. " "Gracious Heaven!" cries she, falling on her knees, "I thank you!" Andthen starting up, she ran to her husband, and, embracing him, cried, "My dear love, I wish you joy; and I ought in gratitude to wish ityou; for you are the cause of mine. It is upon yours and my children'saccount that I principally rejoice. " Mrs. Atkinson rose from her chair, and jumped about the room for joy, repeating, _Turne, quod oplanti divum promittere nemo Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro. _ [Footnote: "What none of all the Gods could grant thy vows, That, Turnus, this auspicious day bestows. "] Amelia now threw herself into a chair, complained she was a littlefaint, and begged a glass of water. The doctor advised her to beblooded; but she refused, saying she required a vent of another kind. She then desired her children to be brought to her, whom sheimmediately caught in her arms, and, having profusely cried over themfor several minutes, declared she was easy. After which she soonregained her usual temper and complexion. That day they dined together, and in the afternoon they all, exceptthe doctor, visited Captain Atkinson; he repaired to the bailiff'shouse to visit the sick man, whom he found very chearful, the surgeonhaving assured him that he was in no danger. The doctor had a long spiritual discourse with Robinson, who assuredhim that he sincerely repented of his past life, that he was resolvedto lead his future days in a different manner, and to make what amendshe could for his sins to the society, by bringing one of the greatestrogues in it to justice. There was a circumstance which much pleasedthe doctor, and made him conclude that, however Robinson had beencorrupted by his old master, he had naturally a good disposition. Thiswas, that Robinson declared he was chiefly induced to the discovery bywhat had happened at the pawnbroker's, and by the miseries which hethere perceived he had been instrumental in bringing on Booth and hisfamily. The next day Booth and his wife, at the doctor's instance, dined withColonel James and his lady, where they were received with greatcivility, and all matters were accommodated without Booth ever knowinga syllable of the challenge even to this day. The doctor insisted very strongly on having Miss Harris taken intocustody, and said, if she was his sister, he would deliver her tojustice. He added besides, that it was impossible to skreen her andcarry on the prosecution, or, indeed, recover the estate. Amelia atlast begged the delay of one day only, in which time she wrote aletter to her sister, informing her of the discovery, and the dangerin which she stood, and begged her earnestly to make her escape, withmany assurances that she would never suffer her to know any distress. This letter she sent away express, and it had the desired effect; forMiss Harris, having received sufficient information from the attorneyto the same purpose, immediately set out for Poole, and from thence toFrance, carrying with her all her money, most of her cloaths, and somefew jewels. She had, indeed, packed up plate and jewels to the valueof two thousand pound and upwards. But Booth, to whom Ameliacommunicated the letter, prevented her by ordering the man that wentwith the express (who had been a serjeant of the foot-guardsrecommended to him by Atkinson) to suffer the lady to go whither shepleased, but not to take anything with her except her cloaths, whichhe was carefully to search. These orders were obeyed punctually, andwith these she was obliged to comply. Two days after the bird was flown a warrant from the lord chiefjustice arrived to take her up, the messenger of which returned withthe news of her flight, highly to the satisfaction of Amelia, andconsequently of Booth, and, indeed, not greatly to the grief of thedoctor. About a week afterwards Booth and Amelia, with their children, andCaptain Atkinson and his lady, all set forward together for Amelia'shouse, where they arrived amidst the acclamations of all theneighbours, and every public demonstration of joy. They found the house ready prepared to receive them by Atkinson'sfriend the old serjeant, and a good dinner prepared for them byAmelia's old nurse, who was addressed with the utmost duty by her sonand daughter, most affectionately caressed by Booth and his wife, andby Amelia's absolute command seated next to herself at the table. Atwhich, perhaps, were assembled some of the best and happiest peoplethen in the world. Chapter ix. _In which the history is concluded. _ Having brought our history to a conclusion, as to those points inwhich we presume our reader was chiefly interested, in the foregoingchapter, we shall in this, by way of epilogue, endeavour to satisfyhis curiosity as to what hath since happened to the principalpersonages of whom we have treated in the foregoing pages. Colonel James and his lady, after living in a polite manner for manyyears together, at last agreed to live in as polite a manner asunder. The colonel hath kept Miss Matthews ever since, and is at length grownto doat on her (though now very disagreeable in her person, andimmensely fat) to such a degree, that he submits to be treated by herin the most tyrannical manner. He allows his lady eight hundred pound a-year, with which she dividesher time between Tunbridge, Bath, and London, and passes about ninehours in the twenty-four at cards. Her income is lately increased bythree thousand pound left her by her brother Colonel Bath, who waskilled in a duel about six years ago by a gentleman who told thecolonel he differed from him in opinion. The noble peer and Mrs. Ellison have been both dead several years, andboth of the consequences of their favourite vices; Mrs. Ellison havingfallen a martyr to her liquor, and the other to his amours, by whichhe was at last become so rotten that he stunk above-ground. The attorney, Murphy, was brought to his trial at the Old Bailey, where, after much quibbling about the meaning of a very plain act ofparliament, he was at length convicted of forgery, and was soonafterwards hanged at Tyburn. The witness for some time seemed to reform his life, and received asmall pension from Booth; after which he returned to vicious courses, took a purse on the highway, was detected and taken, and followed thelast steps of his old master. So apt are men whose manners have beenonce thoroughly corrupted, to return, from any dawn of an amendment, into the dark paths of vice. As to Miss Harris, she lived three years with a broken heart atBoulogne, where she received annually fifty pound from her sister, whowas hardly prevailed on by Dr Harrison not to send her a hundred, andthen died in a most miserable manner. Mr. Atkinson upon the whole hath led a very happy life with his wife, though he hath been sometimes obliged to pay proper homage to hersuperior understanding and knowledge. This, however, he chearfullysubmits to, and she makes him proper returns of fondness. They havetwo fine boys, of whom they are equally fond. He is lately advanced tothe rank of captain, and last summer both he and his wife paid a visitof three months to Booth and his wife. Dr Harrison is grown old in years and in honour, beloved and respectedby all his parishioners and by all his neighbours. He divides his timebetween his parish, his old town, and Booth's--at which last place hehad, two years ago, a gentle fit of the gout, being the first attackof that distemper. During this fit Amelia was his nurse, and her twooldest daughters sat up alternately with him for a whole week. Theeldest of those girls, whose name is Amelia, is his favourite; she isthe picture of her mother, and it is thought the doctor hathdistinguished her in his will, for he hath declared that he will leavehis whole fortune, except some few charities, among Amelia's children. As to Booth and Amelia, Fortune seems to have made them large amendsfor the tricks she played them in their youth. They have, ever sincethe above period of this history, enjoyed an uninterrupted course ofhealth and happiness. In about six weeks after Booth's first cominginto the country he went to London and paid all his debts of honour;after which, and a stay of two days only, he returned into thecountry, and hath never since been thirty miles from home. He hath twoboys and four girls; the eldest of the boys, he who hath made hisappearance in this history, is just come from the university, and isone of the finest gentlemen and best scholars of his age. The secondis just going from school, and is intended for the church, that beinghis own choice. His eldest daughter is a woman grown, but we must notmention her age. A marriage was proposed to her the other day with ayoung fellow of a good estate, but she never would see him more thanonce: "For Doctor Harrison, " says she, "told me he was illiterate, andI am sure he is ill-natured. " The second girl is three years youngerthan her sister, and the others are yet children. Amelia is still the finest woman in England of her age. Booth himselfoften avers she is as handsome as ever. Nothing can equal the serenityof their lives. Amelia declared to me the other day, that she did notremember to have seen her husband out of humour these ten years; and, upon my insinuating to her that he had the best of wives, she answeredwith a smile that she ought to be so, for that he had made her thehappiest of women. THE END.