Joseph Andrews, Vol. 2
CHAPTER III.
_In which the gentleman relates the history of his life._
Sir, I am descended of a good family, and was born a gentleman. Myeducation was liberal, and at a public school, in which I proceeded sofar as to become master of the Latin, and to be tolerably versed in theGreek language. My father died when I was sixteen, and left me master ofmyself. He bequeathed me a moderate fortune, which he intended I shouldnot receive till I attained the age of twenty-five: for he constantlyasserted that was full early enough to give up any man entirely to theguidance of his own discretion. However, as this intention was soobscurely worded in his will that the lawyers advised me to contest thepoint with my trustees, I own I paid so little regard to theinclinations of my dead father, which were sufficiently certain to me,that I followed their advice, and soon succeeded, for the trustees didnot contest the matter very obstinately on their side. "Sir," saidAdams, "may I crave the favour of your name?" The gentleman answered hisname was Wilson, and then proceeded.
I stayed a very little while at school after his death; for, being aforward youth, I was extremely impatient to be in the world, for which Ithought my parts, knowledge, and manhood thoroughly qualified me. And tothis early introduction into life, without a guide, I impute all myfuture misfortunes; for, besides the obvious mischiefs which attendthis, there is one which hath not been so generally observed: the firstimpression which mankind receives of you will be very difficult toeradicate. How unhappy, therefore, must it be to fix your character inlife, before you can possibly know its value, or weigh the consequencesof those actions which are to establish your future reputation!
A little under seventeen I left my school, and went to London with nomore than six pounds in my pocket; a great sum, as I then conceived; andwhich I was afterwards surprized to find so soon consumed.
The character I was ambitious of attaining was that of a fine gentleman;the first requisites to which I apprehended were to be supplied by ataylor, a periwig-maker, and some few more tradesmen, who deal infurnishing out the human body. Notwithstanding the lowness of my purse,I found credit with them more easily than I expected, and was soonequipped to my wish. This I own then agreeably surprized me; but I havesince learned that it is a maxim among many tradesmen at the polite endof the town to deal as largely as they can, reckon as high as they can,and arrest as soon as they can.
The next qualifications, namely, dancing, fencing, riding the greathorse, and music, came into my head: but, as they required expense andtime, I comforted myself, with regard to dancing, that I had learned alittle in my youth, and could walk a minuet genteelly enough; as tofencing, I thought my good-humour would preserve me from the danger of aquarrel; as to the horse, I hoped it would not be thought of; and formusic, I imagined I could easily acquire the reputation of it; for I hadheard some of my schoolfellows pretend to knowledge in operas, withoutbeing able to sing or play on the fiddle.
Knowledge of the town seemed another ingredient; this I thought I shouldarrive at by frequenting public places. Accordingly I paid constantattendance to them all; by which means I was soon master of thefashionable phrases, learned to cry up the fashionable diversions, andknew the names and faces of the most fashionable men and women.
Nothing now seemed to remain but an intrigue, which I was resolved tohave immediately; I mean the reputation of it; and indeed I was sosuccessful, that in a very short time I had half-a-dozen with the finestwomen in town.
At these words Adams fetched a deep groan, and then, blessing himself,cried out, "Good Lord! what wicked times these are!"
Not so wicked as you imagine, continued the gentleman; for I assure youthey were all vestal virgins for anything which I knew to the contrary.The reputation of intriguing with them was all I sought, and was what Iarrived at: and perhaps I only flattered myself even in that; for veryprobably the persons to whom I showed their billets knew as well as Ithat they were counterfeits, and that I had written them to myself."Write letters to yourself!" said Adams, staring. O sir, answered thegentleman, it is the very error of the times. Half our modern plays haveone of these characters in them. It is incredible the pains I havetaken, and the absurd methods I employed, to traduce the character ofwomen of distinction. When another had spoken in raptures of any one, Ihave answered, "D--n her, she! We shall have her at H----d's very soon."When he hath replied, "He thought her virtuous," I have answered, "Ay,thou wilt always think a woman virtuous, till she is in the streets; butyou and I, Jack or Tom (turning to another in company), know better." Atwhich I have drawn a paper out of my pocket, perhaps a taylor's bill,and kissed it, crying at the same time, "By Gad I was once fond of her."
"Proceed, if you please, but do not swear any more," said Adams.
Sir, said the gentleman, I ask your pardon. Well, sir, in this course oflife I continued full three years.--"What course of life?" answeredAdams; "I do not remember you have mentioned any."--Your remark is just,said the gentleman, smiling; I should rather have said, in this courseof doing nothing. I remember some time afterwards I wrote the journal ofone day, which would serve, I believe, as well for any other during thewhole time. I will endeavour to repeat it to you.
In the morning I arose, took my great stick, and walked out in my greenfrock, with my hair in papers (a groan from Adams), and sauntered abouttill ten. Went to the auction; told lady ---- she had a dirty face;laughed heartily at something captain ---- said, I can't remember what,for I did not very well hear it; whispered lord ----; bowed to the dukeof ----; and was going to bid for a snuff-box, but did not, for fear Ishould have had it.
From 2 to 4, drest myself. _A groan._ 4 to 6, dined. _A groan._ 6 to 8, coffee-house. 8 to 9, Drury-lane playhouse. 9 to 10, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 10 to 12, Drawing-room. _A great groan._
At all which places nothing happened worth remark.
At which Adams said, with some vehemence, "Sir, this is below the lifeof an animal, hardly above vegetation: and I am surprized what couldlead a man of your sense into it." What leads us into more follies thanyou imagine, doctor, answered the gentleman--vanity; for as contemptiblea creature as I was, and I assure you, yourself cannot have morecontempt for such a wretch than I now have, I then admired myself, andshould have despised a person of your present appearance (you willpardon me), with all your learning and those excellent qualities which Ihave remarked in you. Adams bowed, and begged him to proceed. After Ihad continued two years in this course of life, said the gentleman, anaccident happened which obliged me to change the scene. As I was one dayat St James's coffee-house, making very free with the character of ayoung lady of quality, an officer of the guards, who was present,thought proper to give me the lye. I answered I might possibly bemistaken, but I intended to tell no more than the truth. To which hemade no reply but by a scornful sneer. After this I observed a strangecoldness in all my acquaintance; none of them spoke to me first, andvery few returned me even the civility of a bow. The company I used todine with left me out, and within a week I found myself in as muchsolitude at St James's as if I had been in a desart. An honest elderlyman, with a great hat and long sword, at last told me he had acompassion for my youth, and therefore advised me to show the world Iwas not such a rascal as they thought me to be. I did not at firstunderstand him; but he explained himself, and ended with telling me, ifI would write a challenge to the captain, he would, out of pure charity,go to him with it. "A very charitable person, truly!" cried Adams. Idesired till the next day, continued the gentleman, to consider on it,and, retiring to my lodgings, I weighed the consequences on both sidesas fairly as I could. On the one, I saw the risk of this alternative,either losing my own life, or having on my hands the blood of a man withwhom I was not in the least angry. I soon determined that the good whichappeared on the other was not worth this hazard. I therefore resolved toquit the scene, and presently retired to the Temple, where I tookchambers. Here I soon got a fresh set of acquaintance, who knew nothingof what had happened to me. Indeed,
they were not greatly to myapprobation; for the beaus of the Temple are only the shadows of theothers. They are the affectation of affectation. The vanity of these isstill more ridiculous, if possible, than of the others. Here I met withsmart fellows who drank with lords they did not know, and intrigued withwomen they never saw. Covent Garden was now the farthest stretch of myambition; where I shone forth in the balconies at the playhouses,visited whores, made love to orange-wenches, and damned plays. Thiscareer was soon put a stop to by my surgeon, who convinced me of thenecessity of confining myself to my room for a month. At the end ofwhich, having had leisure to reflect, I resolved to quit all fartherconversation with beaus and smarts of every kind, and to avoid, ifpossible, any occasion of returning to this place of confinement. "Ithink," said Adams, "the advice of a month's retirement and reflectionwas very proper; but I should rather have expected it from a divine thana surgeon." The gentleman smiled at Adams's simplicity, and, withoutexplaining himself farther on such an odious subject, went on thus: Iwas no sooner perfectly restored to health than I found my passion forwomen, which I was afraid to satisfy as I had done, made me very uneasy;I determined, therefore, to keep a mistress. Nor was I long before Ifixed my choice on a young woman, who had before been kept by twogentlemen, and to whom I was recommended by a celebrated bawd. I tookher home to my chambers, and made her a settlement during cohabitation.This would, perhaps, have been very ill paid: however, she did notsuffer me to be perplexed on that account; for, before quarter-day, Ifound her at my chambers in too familiar conversation with a youngfellow who was drest like an officer, but was indeed a city apprentice.Instead of excusing her inconstancy, she rapped out half-a-dozen oaths,and, snapping her fingers at me, swore she scorned to confine herself tothe best man in England. Upon this we parted, and the same bawdpresently provided her another keeper. I was not so much concerned atour separation as I found, within a day or two, I had reason to be forour meeting; for I was obliged to pay a second visit to my surgeon. Iwas now forced to do penance for some weeks, during which time Icontracted an acquaintance with a beautiful young girl, the daughter ofa gentleman who, after having been forty years in the army, and in allthe campaigns under the Duke of Marlborough, died a lieutenant onhalf-pay, and had left a widow, with this only child, in very distrestcircumstances: they had only a small pension from the government, withwhat little the daughter could add to it by her work, for she had greatexcellence at her needle. This girl was, at my first acquaintance withher, solicited in marriage by a young fellow in good circumstances. Hewas apprentice to a linendraper, and had a little fortune, sufficient toset up his trade. The mother was greatly pleased with this match, asindeed she had sufficient reason. However, I soon prevented it. Irepresented him in so low a light to his mistress, and made so good anuse of flattery, promises, and presents, that, not to dwell longer onthis subject than is necessary, I prevailed with the poor girl, andconveyed her away from her mother! In a word, I debauched her.--(Atwhich words Adams started up, fetched three strides across the room, andthen replaced himself in his chair.) You are not more affected with thispart of my story than myself; I assure you it will never be sufficientlyrepented of in my own opinion: but, if you already detest it, how muchmore will your indignation be raised when you hear the fatalconsequences of this barbarous, this villanous action! If you please,therefore, I will here desist.--"By no means," cries Adams; "go on, Ibeseech you; and Heaven grant you may sincerely repent of this and manyother things you have related!"--I was now, continued the gentleman, ashappy as the possession of a fine young creature, who had a goodeducation, and was endued with many agreeable qualities, could make me.We lived some months with vast fondness together, without any company orconversation, more than we found in one another: but this could notcontinue always; and, though I still preserved great affection for her,I began more and more to want the relief of other company, andconsequently to leave her by degrees--at last whole days to herself. Shefailed not to testify some uneasiness on these occasions, and complainedof the melancholy life she led; to remedy which, I introduced her intothe acquaintance of some other kept mistresses, with whom she used toplay at cards, and frequent plays and other diversions. She had notlived long in this intimacy before I perceived a visible alteration inher behaviour; all her modesty and innocence vanished by degrees, tillher mind became thoroughly tainted. She affected the company of rakes,gave herself all manner of airs, was never easy but abroad, or when shehad a party at my chambers. She was rapacious of money, extravagant toexcess, loose in her conversation; and, if ever I demurred to any of herdemands, oaths, tears, and fits were the immediate consequences. As thefirst raptures of fondness were long since over, this behaviour soonestranged my affections from her; I began to reflect with pleasure thatshe was not my wife, and to conceive an intention of parting with her;of which, having given her a hint, she took care to prevent me the painsof turning her out of doors, and accordingly departed herself, havingfirst broken open my escrutore, and taken with her all she could find,to the amount of about L200. In the first heat of my resentment Iresolved to pursue her with all the vengeance of the law: but, as shehad the good luck to escape me during that ferment, my passionafterwards cooled; and, having reflected that I had been the firstaggressor, and had done her an injury for which I could make her noreparation, by robbing her of the innocence of her mind; and hearing atthe same time that the poor old woman her mother had broke her heart onher daughter's elopement from her, I, concluding myself her murderer("As you very well might," cries Adams, with a groan), was pleased thatGod Almighty had taken this method of punishing me, and resolved quietlyto submit to the loss. Indeed, I could wish I had never heard more ofthe poor creature, who became in the end an abandoned profligate; and,after being some years a common prostitute, at last ended her miserablelife in Newgate.--Here the gentleman fetched a deep sigh, which Mr Adamsechoed very loudly; and both continued silent, looking on each other forsome minutes. At last the gentleman proceeded thus: I had been perfectlyconstant to this girl during the whole time I kept her: but she hadscarce departed before I discovered more marks of her infidelity to methan the loss of my money. In short, I was forced to make a third visitto my surgeon, out of whose hands I did not get a hasty discharge.
I now forswore all future dealings with the sex, complained loudly thatthe pleasure did not compensate the pain, and railed at the beautifulcreatures in as gross language as Juvenal himself formerly reviled themin. I looked on all the town harlots with a detestation not easy to beconceived, their persons appeared to me as painted palaces, inhabited byDisease and Death: nor could their beauty make them more desirableobjects in my eyes than gilding could make me covet a pill, or goldenplates a coffin. But though I was no longer the absolute slave, I foundsome reasons to own myself still the subject, of love. My hatred forwomen decreased daily; and I am not positive but time might havebetrayed me again to some common harlot, had I not been secured by apassion for the charming Sapphira, which, having once entered upon, madea violent progress in my heart. Sapphira was wife to a man of fashionand gallantry, and one who seemed, I own, every way worthy of heraffections; which, however, he had not the reputation of having. She wasindeed a coquette _achevee_. "Pray, sir," says Adams, "what is acoquette? I have met with the word in French authors, but never couldassign any idea to it. I believe it is the same with _une sotte,_Anglice, a fool." Sir, answered the gentleman, perhaps you are not muchmistaken; but, as it is a particular kind of folly, I will endeavour todescribe it. Were all creatures to be ranked in the order of creationaccording to their usefulness, I know few animals that would not takeplace of a coquette; nor indeed hath this creature much pretence toanything beyond instinct; for, though sometimes we might imagine it wasanimated by the passion of vanity, yet far the greater part of itsactions fall beneath even that low motive; for instance, several absurdgestures and tricks, infinitely more foolish than what can be observedin the most ridiculous birds and beasts, and which would persuade thebeholder that the silly wretch was aiming at
our contempt. Indeed itscharacteristic is affectation, and this led and governed by whim only:for as beauty, wisdom, wit, good-nature, politeness, and health aresometimes affected by this creature, so are ugliness, folly, nonsense,ill-nature, ill-breeding, and sickness likewise put on by it in theirturn. Its life is one constant lie; and the only rule by which you canform any judgment of them is, that they are never what they seem. If itwas possible for a coquette to love (as it is not, for if ever itattains this passion the coquette ceases instantly), it would wear theface of indifference, if not of hatred, to the beloved object; you maytherefore be assured, when they endeavour to persuade you of theirliking, that they are indifferent to you at least. And indeed this wasthe case of my Sapphira, who no sooner saw me in the number of heradmirers than she gave me what is commonly called encouragement: shewould often look at me, and, when she perceived me meet her eyes, wouldinstantly take them off, discovering at the same time as much surprizeand emotion as possible. These arts failed not of the success sheintended; and, as I grew more particular to her than the rest of heradmirers, she advanced, in proportion, more directly to me than to theothers. She affected the low voice, whisper, lisp, sigh, start, laugh,and many other indications of passion which daily deceive thousands.When I played at whist with her, she would look earnestly at me, and atthe same time lose deal or revoke; then burst into a ridiculous laughand cry, "La! I can't imagine what I was thinking of." To detain you nolonger, after I had gone through a sufficient course of gallantry, as Ithought, and was thoroughly convinced I had raised a violent passion inmy mistress, I sought an opportunity of coming to an eclaircissementwith her. She avoided this as much as possible; however, great assiduityat length presented me one. I will not describe all the particulars ofthis interview; let it suffice that, when she could no longer pretendnot to see my drift, she first affected a violent surprize, andimmediately after as violent a passion: she wondered what I had seen inher conduct which could induce me to affront her in this manner; and,breaking from me the first moment she could, told me I had no other wayto escape the consequence of her resentment than by never seeing, or atleast speaking to her more. I was not contented with this answer; Istill pursued her, but to no purpose; and was at length convinced thather husband had the sole possession of her person, and that neither henor any other had made any impression on her heart. I was taken off fromfollowing this _ignis fatuus_ by some advances which were made me by thewife of a citizen, who, though neither very young nor handsome, was yettoo agreeable to be rejected by my amorous constitution. I accordinglysoon satisfied her that she had not cast away her hints on a barren orcold soil: on the contrary, they instantly produced her an eager anddesiring lover. Nor did she give me any reason to complain; she met thewarmth she had raised with equal ardour. I had no longer a coquette todeal with, but one who was wiser than to prostitute the noble passion oflove to the ridiculous lust of vanity. We presently understood oneanother; and, as the pleasures we sought lay in a mutual gratification,we soon found and enjoyed them. I thought myself at first greatly happyin the possession of this new mistress, whose fondness would havequickly surfeited a more sickly appetite; but it had a different effecton mine: she carried my passion higher by it than youth or beauty hadbeen able. But my happiness could not long continue uninterrupted. Theapprehensions we lay under from the jealousy of her husband gave usgreat uneasiness. "Poor wretch! I pity him," cried Adams. He did indeeddeserve it, said the gentleman; for he loved his wife with greattenderness; and, I assure you, it is a great satisfaction to me that Iwas not the man who first seduced her affections from him. Theseapprehensions appeared also too well grounded, for in the end hediscovered us, and procured witnesses of our caresses. He thenprosecuted me at law, and recovered L3000 damages, which much distressedmy fortune to pay; and, what was worse, his wife, being divorced, cameupon my hands. I led a very uneasy life with her; for, besides that mypassion was now much abated, her excessive jealousy was verytroublesome. At length death rid me of an inconvenience which theconsideration of my having been the author of her misfortunes wouldnever suffer me to take any other method of discarding.
I now bad adieu to love, and resolved to pursue other less dangerous andexpensive pleasures. I fell into the acquaintance of a set of jollycompanions, who slept all day and drank all night; fellows who mightrather be said to consume time than to live. Their best conversation wasnothing but noise: singing, hollowing, wrangling, drinking, toasting,sp--wing, smoaking were the chief ingredients of our entertainment. Andyet, bad as these were, they were more tolerable than our graver scenes,which were either excessive tedious narratives of dull common matters offact, or hot disputes about trifling matters, which commonly ended in awager. This way of life the first serious reflection put a period to;and I became member of a club frequented by young men of greatabilities. The bottle was now only called in to the assistance of ourconversation, which rolled on the deepest points of philosophy. Thesegentlemen were engaged in a search after truth, in the pursuit of whichthey threw aside all the prejudices of education, and governedthemselves only by the infallible guide of human reason. This greatguide, after having shown them the falsehood of that very ancient butsimple tenet, that there is such a being as a Deity in the universe,helped them to establish in his stead a certain rule of right, byadhering to which they all arrived at the utmost purity of morals.Reflection made me as much delighted with this society as it had taughtme to despise and detest the former. I began now to esteem myself abeing of a higher order than I had ever before conceived; and was themore charmed with this rule of right, as I really found in my own naturenothing repugnant to it. I held in utter contempt all persons who wantedany other inducement to virtue besides her intrinsic beauty andexcellence; and had so high an opinion of my present companions, withregard to their morality, that I would have trusted them with whateverwas nearest and dearest to me. Whilst I was engaged in this delightfuldream, two or three accidents happened successively, which at first muchsurprized me;--for one of our greatest philosophers, or rule-of-rightmen, withdrew himself from us, taking with him the wife of one of hismost intimate friends. Secondly, another of the same society left theclub without remembering to take leave of his bail. A third, havingborrowed a sum of money of me, for which I received no security, when Iasked him to repay it, absolutely denied the loan. These severalpractices, so inconsistent with our golden rule, made me begin tosuspect its infallibility; but when I communicated my thoughts to one ofthe club, he said, "There was nothing absolutely good or evil in itself;that actions were denominated good or bad by the circumstances of theagent. That possibly the man who ran away with his neighbour's wifemight be one of very good inclinations, but over-prevailed on by theviolence of an unruly passion; and, in other particulars, might be avery worthy member of society; that if the beauty of any woman createdin him an uneasiness, he had a right from nature to relievehimself;"--with many other things, which I then detested so much, that Itook leave of the society that very evening and never returned to itagain. Being now reduced to a state of solitude which I did not like, Ibecame a great frequenter of the playhouses, which indeed was always myfavourite diversion; and most evenings passed away two or three hoursbehind the scenes, where I met with several poets, with whom I madeengagements at the taverns. Some of the players were likewise of ourparties. At these meetings we were generally entertained by the poetswith reading their performances, and by the players with repeating theirparts: upon which occasions, I observed the gentleman who furnished ourentertainment was commonly the best pleased of the company; who, thoughthey were pretty civil to him to his face, seldom failed to take thefirst opportunity of his absence to ridicule him. Now I made someremarks which probably are too obvious to be worth relating. "Sir," saysAdams, "your remarks if you please." First then, says he, I concludedthat the general observation, that wits are most inclined to vanity, isnot true. Men are equally vain of riches, strength, beauty, honours, &c.But these appear of themselves to the eyes of the beholders, whereas thepoor wit is obl
iged to produce his performance to show you hisperfection; and on his readiness to do this that vulgar opinion I havebefore mentioned is grounded; but doth not the person who expends vastsums in the furniture of his house or the ornaments of his person, whoconsumes much time and employs great pains in dressing himself, or whothinks himself paid for self-denial, labour, or even villany, by a titleor a ribbon, sacrifice as much to vanity as the poor wit who is desirousto read you his poem or his play? My second remark was, that vanity isthe worst of passions, and more apt to contaminate the mind than anyother: for, as selfishness is much more general than we please to allowit, so it is natural to hate and envy those who stand between us and thegood we desire. Now, in lust and ambition these are few; and even inavarice we find many who are no obstacles to our pursuits; but the vainman seeks pre-eminence; and everything which is excellent orpraiseworthy in another renders him the mark of his antipathy. Adams nowbegan to fumble in his pockets, and soon cried out, "O la! I have it notabout me." Upon this, the gentleman asking him what he was searchingfor, he said he searched after a sermon, which he thought hismasterpiece, against vanity. "Fie upon it, fie upon it!" cries he, "whydo I ever leave that sermon out of my pocket? I wish it was within fivemiles; I would willingly fetch it, to read it you." The gentlemananswered that there was no need, for he was cured of the passion. "Andfor that very reason," quoth Adams, "I would read it, for I am confidentyou would admire it: indeed, I have never been a greater enemy to anypassion than that silly one of vanity." The gentleman smiled, andproceeded--From this society I easily passed to that of the gamesters,where nothing remarkable happened but the finishing my fortune, whichthose gentlemen soon helped me to the end of. This opened scenes of lifehitherto unknown; poverty and distress, with their horrid train of duns,attorneys, bailiffs, haunted me day and night. My clothes grew shabby,my credit bad, my friends and acquaintance of all kinds cold. In thissituation the strangest thought imaginable came into my head; and whatwas this but to write a play? for I had sufficient leisure: fear ofbailiffs confined me every day to my room: and, having always had alittle inclination and something of a genius that way, I set myself towork, and within a few months produced a piece of five acts, which wasaccepted of at the theatre. I remembered to have formerly taken ticketsof other poets for their benefits, long before the appearance of theirperformances; and, resolving to follow a precedent which was so wellsuited to my present circumstances, I immediately provided myself with alarge number of little papers. Happy indeed would be the state ofpoetry, would these tickets pass current at the bakehouse, theale-house, and the chandler's shop: but alas! far otherwise; no taylorwill take them in payment for buckram, canvas, stay-tape; nor no bailifffor civility money. They are, indeed, no more than a passport to begwith; a certificate that the owner wants five shillings, which induceswell-disposed Christians to charity. I now experienced what is worsethan poverty, or rather what is the worst consequence of poverty--I meanattendance and dependance on the great. Many a morning have I waitedhours in the cold parlours of men of quality; where, after seeing thelowest rascals in lace and embroidery, the pimps and buffoons infashion, admitted, I have been sometimes told, on sending in my name,that my lord could not possibly see me this morning; a sufficientassurance that I should never more get entrance into that house.Sometimes I have been at last admitted; and the great man hath thoughtproper to excuse himself, by telling me he was tied up. "Tied up," saysAdams, "pray what's that?" Sir, says the gentleman, the profit whichbooksellers allowed authors for the best works was so very small, thatcertain men of birth and fortune some years ago, who were the patrons ofwit and learning, thought fit to encourage them farther by entering intovoluntary subscriptions for their encouragement. Thus Prior, Rowe, Pope,and some other men of genius, received large sums for their labours fromthe public. This seemed so easy a method of getting money, that many ofthe lowest scribblers of the times ventured to publish their works inthe same way; and many had the assurance to take in subscriptions forwhat was not writ, nor ever intended. Subscriptions in this mannergrowing infinite, and a kind of tax on the publick, some persons,finding it not so easy a task to discern good from bad authors, or toknow what genius was worthy encouragement and what was not, to preventthe expense of subscribing to so many, invented a method to excusethemselves from all subscriptions whatever; and this was to receive asmall sum of money in consideration of giving a large one if ever theysubscribed; which many have done, and many more have pretended to havedone, in order to silence all solicitation. The same method was likewisetaken with playhouse tickets, which were no less a public grievance; andthis is what they call being tied up from subscribing. "I can't say butthe term is apt enough, and somewhat typical," said Adams; "for a man oflarge fortune, who ties himself up, as you call it, from theencouragement of men of merit, ought to be tied up in reality." Well,sir, says the gentleman, to return to my story. Sometimes I havereceived a guinea from a man of quality, given with as ill a grace asalms are generally to the meanest beggar; and purchased too with as muchtime spent in attendance as, if it had been spent in honest industry,might have brought me more profit with infinitely more satisfaction.After about two months spent in this disagreeable way, with the utmostmortification, when I was pluming my hopes on the prospect of aplentiful harvest from my play, upon applying to the prompter to knowwhen it came into rehearsal, he informed me he had received orders fromthe managers to return me the play again, for that they could notpossibly act it that season; but, if I would take it and revise itagainst the next, they would be glad to see it again. I snatched it fromhim with great indignation, and retired to my room, where I threw myselfon the bed in a fit of despair. "You should rather have thrown yourselfon your knees," says Adams, "for despair is sinful." As soon, continuedthe gentleman, as I had indulged the first tumult of my passion, I beganto consider coolly what course I should take, in a situation withoutfriends, money, credit, or reputation of any kind. After revolving manythings in my mind, I could see no other possibility of furnishing myselfwith the miserable necessaries of life than to retire to a garret nearthe Temple, and commence hackney-writer to the lawyers, for which I waswell qualified, being an excellent penman. This purpose I resolved on,and immediately put it in execution. I had an acquaintance with anattorney who had formerly transacted affairs for me, and to him Iapplied; but, instead of furnishing me with any business, he laughed atmy undertaking, and told me, "He was afraid I should turn his deeds intoplays, and he should expect to see them on the stage." Not to tire youwith instances of this kind from others, I found that Plato himself didnot hold poets in greater abhorrence than these men of business do.Whenever I durst venture to a coffeehouse, which was on Sundays only, awhisper ran round the room, which was constantly attended with asneer--That's poet Wilson; for I know not whether you have observed it,but there is a malignity in the nature of man, which, when not weededout, or at least covered by a good education and politeness, delights inmaking another uneasy or dissatisfied with himself. This abundantlyappears in all assemblies, except those which are filled by people offashion, and especially among the younger people of both sexes whosebirth and fortunes place them just without the polite circles; I meanthe lower class of the gentry, and the higher of the mercantile world,who are, in reality, the worst-bred part of mankind. Well, sir, whilst Icontinued in this miserable state, with scarce sufficient business tokeep me from starving, the reputation of a poet being my bane, Iaccidentally became acquainted with a bookseller, who told me, "It was apity a man of my learning and genius should be obliged to such a methodof getting his livelihood; that he had a compassion for me, and, if Iwould engage with him, he would undertake to provide handsomely for me."A man in my circumstances, as he very well knew, had no choice. Iaccordingly accepted his proposal with his conditions, which were noneof the most favourable, and fell to translating with all my might. I hadno longer reason to lament the want of business; for he furnished mewith so much, that in half a year I almost writ myself blind. I likewisecontracted a distemper by my
sedentary life, in which no part of my bodywas exercised but my right arm, which rendered me incapable of writingfor a long time. This unluckily happening to delay the publication of awork, and my last performance not having sold well, the booksellerdeclined any further engagement, and aspersed me to his brethren as acareless idle fellow. I had, however, by having half worked and halfstarved myself to death during the time I was in his service, saved afew guineas, with which I bought a lottery-ticket, resolving to throwmyself into Fortune's lap, and try if she would make me amends for theinjuries she had done me at the gaming-table. This purchase, being made,left me almost pennyless; when, as if I had not been sufficientlymiserable, a bailiff in woman's clothes got admittance to my chamber,whither he was directed by the bookseller. He arrested me at my taylor'ssuit for thirty-five pounds; a sum for which I could not procure bail;and was therefore conveyed to his house, where I was locked up in anupper chamber. I had now neither health (for I was scarce recovered frommy indisposition), liberty, money, or friends; and had abandoned allhopes, and even the desire, of life. "But this could not last long,"said Adams; "for doubtless the taylor released you the moment he wastruly acquainted with your affairs, and knew that your circumstanceswould not permit you to pay him." "Oh, sir," answered the gentleman, "heknew that before he arrested me; nay, he knew that nothing butincapacity could prevent me paying my debts; for I had been his customermany years, had spent vast sums of money with him, and had always paidmost punctually in my prosperous days; but when I reminded him of this,with assurances that, if he would not molest my endeavours, I would payhim all the money I could by my utmost labour and industry procure,reserving only what was sufficient to preserve me alive, he answered,his patience was worn out; that I had put him off from time to time;that he wanted the money; that he had put it into a lawyer's hands; andif I did not pay him immediately, or find security, I must die in gaoland expect no mercy." "He may expect mercy," cries Adams, starting fromhis chair, "where he will find none! How can such a wretch repeat theLord's Prayer; where the word, which is translated, I know not for whatreason, trespasses, is in the original, debts? And as surely as we donot forgive others their debts, when they are unable to pay them, sosurely shall we ourselves be unforgiven when we are in no condition ofpaying." He ceased, and the gentleman proceeded. While I was in thisdeplorable situation, a former acquaintance, to whom I had communicatedmy lottery-ticket, found me out, and, making me a visit, with greatdelight in his countenance, shook me heartily by the hand, and wished mejoy of my good fortune: for, says he, your ticket is come up a prize ofL3000. Adams snapped his fingers at these words in an ecstasy of joy;which, however, did not continue long; for the gentleman thusproceeded:--Alas! sir, this was only a trick of Fortune to sink me thedeeper; for I had disposed of this lottery-ticket two days before to arelation, who refused lending me a shilling without it, in order toprocure myself bread. As soon as my friend was acquainted with myunfortunate sale he began to revile me and remind me of all theill-conduct and miscarriages of my life. He said I was one whom Fortunecould not save if she would; that I was now ruined without any hopes ofretrieval, nor must expect any pity from my friends; that it would beextreme weakness to compassionate the misfortunes of a man who ranheadlong to his own destruction. He then painted to me, in as livelycolours as he was able, the happiness I should have now enjoyed, had Inot foolishly disposed of my ticket. I urged the plea of necessity; buthe made no answer to that, and began again to revile me, till I couldbear it no longer, and desired him to finish his visit. I soon exchangedthe bailiff's house for a prison; where, as I had not money sufficientto procure me a separate apartment, I was crouded in with a great numberof miserable wretches, in common with whom I was destitute of everyconvenience of life, even that which all the brutes enjoy, wholesomeair. In these dreadful circumstances I applied by letter to several ofmy old acquaintance, and such to whom I had formerly lent money withoutany great prospect of its being returned, for their assistance; but invain. An excuse, instead of a denial, was the gentlest answer Ireceived. Whilst I languished in a condition too horrible to bedescribed, and which, in a land of humanity, and, what is much more,Christianity, seems a strange punishment for a little inadvertency andindiscretion; whilst I was in this condition, a fellow came into theprison, and, enquiring me out, delivered me the following letter:--
"SIR,--My father, to whom you sold your ticket in the last lottery, died the same day in which it came up a prize, as you have possibly heard, and left me sole heiress of all his fortune. I am so much touched with your present circumstances, and the uneasiness you must feel at having been driven to dispose of what might have made you happy, that I must desire your acceptance of the enclosed, and am your humble servant,
"HARRIET HEARTY."
And what do you think was enclosed? "I don't know," cried Adams; "notless than a guinea, I hope." Sir, it was a bank-note for L200.--"L200?"says Adams, in a rapture. No less, I assure you, answered the gentleman;a sum I was not half so delighted with as with the dear name of thegenerous girl that sent it me; and who was not only the best but thehandsomest creature in the universe, and for whom I had long had apassion which I never durst disclose to her. I kissed her name athousand times, my eyes overflowing with tenderness and gratitude; Irepeated--But not to detain you with these raptures, I immediatelyacquired my liberty; and, having paid all my debts, departed, withupwards of fifty pounds in my pocket, to thank my kind deliverer. Shehappened to be then out of town, a circumstance which, upon reflection,pleased me; for by that means I had an opportunity to appear before herin a more decent dress. At her return to town, within a day or two, Ithrew myself at her feet with the most ardent acknowledgments, which sherejected with an unfeigned greatness of mind, and told me I could notoblige her more than by never mentioning, or if possible thinking on, acircumstance which must bring to my mind an accident that might begrievous to me to think on. She proceeded thus: "What I have done is inmy own eyes a trifle, and perhaps infinitely less than would have becomeme to do. And if you think of engaging in any business where a largersum may be serviceable to you, I shall not be over-rigid either as tothe security or interest." I endeavoured to express all the gratitude inmy power to this profusion of goodness, though perhaps it was my enemy,and began to afflict my mind with more agonies than all the miseries Ihad underwent; it affected me with severer reflections than poverty,distress, and prisons united had been able to make me feel; for, sir,these acts and professions of kindness, which were sufficient to haveraised in a good heart the most violent passion of friendship to one ofthe same, or to age and ugliness in a different sex, came to me from awoman, a young and beautiful woman; one whose perfections I had longknown, and for whom I had long conceived a violent passion, though witha despair which made me endeavour rather to curb and conceal, than tonourish or acquaint her with it. In short, they came upon me united withbeauty, softness, and tenderness: such bewitching smiles!--O Mr Adams,in that moment I lost myself, and, forgetting our different situations,nor considering what return I was making to her goodness by desiringher, who had given me so much, to bestow her all, I laid gently hold onher hand, and, conveying it to my lips, I prest it with inconceivableardour; then, lifting up my swimming eyes, I saw her face and neckoverspread with one blush; she offered to withdraw her hand, yet not soas to deliver it from mine, though I held it with the gentlest force. Weboth stood trembling; her eyes cast on the ground, and mine stedfastlyfixed on her. Good G--d, what was then the condition of my soul! burningwith love, desire, admiration, gratitude, and every tender passion, allbent on one charming object. Passion at last got the better of bothreason and respect, and, softly letting go her hand, I offered madly toclasp her in my arms; when, a little recovering herself, she startedfrom me, asking me, with some show of anger, "If she had any reason toexpect this treatment from me." I then fell prostrate before her, andtold her, if I had offended, my life was absolutely in her power, whichI would in any manner lose for her sake. Nay, madam, said I, you sha
llnot be so ready to punish me as I to suffer. I own my guilt. I detestthe reflection that I would have sacrificed your happiness to mine.Believe me, I sincerely repent my ingratitude; yet, believe me too, itwas my passion, my unbounded passion for you, which hurried me so far: Ihave loved you long and tenderly, and the goodness you have shown mehath innocently weighed down a wretch undone before. Acquit me of allmean, mercenary views; and, before I take my leave of you for ever,which I am resolved instantly to do, believe me that Fortune could haveraised me to no height to which I could not have gladly lifted you. O,curst be Fortune!--"Do not," says she, interrupting me with the sweetestvoice, "do not curse Fortune, since she hath made me happy; and, if shehath put your happiness in my power, I have told you you shall asknothing in reason which I will refuse." Madam, said I, you mistake me ifyou imagine, as you seem, my happiness is in the power of Fortune now.You have obliged me too much already; if I have any wish, it is for someblest accident, by which I may contribute with my life to the leastaugmentation of your felicity. As for myself, the only happiness I canever have will be hearing of yours; and if Fortune will make thatcomplete, I will forgive her all her wrongs to me. "You may, indeed,"answered she, smiling, "for your own happiness must be included in mine.I have long known your worth; nay, I must confess," said she, blushing,"I have long discovered that passion for me you profess, notwithstandingthose endeavours, which I am convinced were unaffected, to conceal it;and if all I can give with reason will not suffice, take reason away;and now I believe you cannot ask me what I will deny."--She utteredthese words with a sweetness not to be imagined. I immediately started;my blood, which lay freezing at my heart, rushed tumultuously throughevery vein. I stood for a moment silent; then, flying to her, I caughther in my arms, no longer resisting, and softly told her she must giveme then herself. O, sir! can I describe her look? She remained silent,and almost motionless, several minutes. At last, recovering herself alittle, she insisted on my leaving her, and in such a manner that Iinstantly obeyed: you may imagine, however, I soon saw her again.--But Iask pardon: I fear I have detained you too long in relating theparticulars of the former interview. "So far otherwise," said Adams,licking his lips, "that I could willingly hear it over again." Well,sir, continued the gentleman, to be as concise as possible, within aweek she consented to make me the happiest of mankind. We were marriedshortly after; and when I came to examine the circumstances of my wife'sfortune (which, I do assure you, I was not presently at leisure enoughto do), I found it amounted to about six thousand pounds, most part ofwhich lay in effects; for her father had been a wine-merchant, and sheseemed willing, if I liked it, that I should carry on the same trade. Ireadily, and too inconsiderately, undertook it; for, not having beenbred up to the secrets of the business, and endeavouring to deal withthe utmost honesty and uprightness, I soon found our fortune in adeclining way, and my trade decreasing by little and little; for mywines, which I never adulterated after their importation, and were soldas neat as they came over, were universally decried by the vintners, towhom I could not allow them quite as cheap as those who gained doublethe profit by a less price. I soon began to despair of improving ourfortune by these means; nor was I at all easy at the visits andfamiliarity of many who had been my acquaintance in my prosperity, buthad denied and shunned me in my adversity, and now very forwardlyrenewed their acquaintance with me. In short, I had sufficiently seenthat the pleasures of the world are chiefly folly, and the business ofit mostly knavery, and both nothing better than vanity; the men ofpleasure tearing one another to pieces from the emulation of spendingmoney, and the men of business from envy in getting it. My happinessconsisted entirely in my wife, whom I loved with an inexpressiblefondness, which was perfectly returned; and my prospects were no otherthan to provide for our growing family; for she was now big of hersecond child: I therefore took an opportunity to ask her opinion ofentering into a retired life, which, after hearing my reasons andperceiving my affection for it, she readily embraced. We soon put oursmall fortune, now reduced under three thousand pounds, into money, withpart of which we purchased this little place, whither we retired soonafter her delivery, from a world full of bustle, noise, hatred, envy,and ingratitude, to ease, quiet, and love. We have here lived almosttwenty years, with little other conversation than our own, most of theneighbourhood taking us for very strange people; the squire of theparish representing me as a madman, and the parson as a presbyterian,because I will not hunt with the one nor drink with the other. "Sir,"says Adams, "Fortune hath, I think, paid you all her debts in this sweetretirement." Sir, replied the gentleman, I am thankful to the greatAuthor of all things for the blessings I here enjoy. I have the best ofwives, and three pretty children, for whom I have the true tenderness ofa parent. But no blessings are pure in this world: within three years ofmy arrival here I lost my eldest son. (Here he sighed bitterly.) "Sir,"says Adams, "we must submit to Providence, and consider death as commonto all." We must submit, indeed, answered the gentleman; and if he haddied I could have borne the loss with patience; but alas! sir, he wasstolen away from my door by some wicked travelling people whom they callgipsies; nor could I ever, with the most diligent search, recover him.Poor child! he had the sweetest look--the exact picture of his mother;at which some tears unwittingly dropt from his eyes, as did likewisefrom those of Adams, who always sympathized with his friends on thoseoccasions. Thus, sir, said the gentleman, I have finished my story, inwhich if I have been too particular, I ask your pardon; and now, if youplease, I will fetch you another bottle: which proposal the parsonthankfully accepted.