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Tales and Novels — Volume 02

by Maria Edgeworth · English · Gutenberg #8720 · 1,068,526 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Tales and Novels — Volume 02

Author: Maria Edgeworth


        
Release date: August 1, 2005 [eBook #8720]
                Most recently updated: December 20, 2016

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES AND NOVELS — VOLUME 02 ***




Produced by Jonathan Ingram, David Widger, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team









TALES AND NOVELS


VOLUME II (of X)


POPULAR TALES


By Maria Edgeworth


1857.




PREFACE.


Some author says, that a good book needs no apology; and, as a preface
is usually an apology, a book enters into the world with a better grace
without one. I, however, appeal to those readers who are not gluttons,
but epicures, in literature, whether they do not wish to see the bill of
fare? I appeal to monthly critics, whether a preface that gives a view
of the pretensions of the writer is not a good thing? The author may
overvalue his subject, and very naturally may overrate the manner in
which it is treated; but still he will explain his views, and facilitate
the useful and necessary art which the French call _reading with the
thumb_. We call this _hunting a book_, a term certainly invented by a
sportsman. I leave the reader to choose which he pleases, whilst I lay
before him the contents and design of these volumes.

Burke supposes that there are eighty thousand readers in Great Britain,
nearly one hundredth part of its inhabitants! Out of these we may
calculate that ten thousand are nobility, clergy, or gentlemen of the
learned professions. Of seventy thousand readers which remain, there
are many who might be amused and instructed by books which were not
professedly adapted to the classes that have been enumerated. With this
view the following volumes{1} have been composed. The title of POPULAR
TALES has been chosen, not as a presumptuous and premature claim to
popularity, but from the wish that they may be current beyond circles
which are sometimes exclusively considered as polite.

The art of printing has opened to all classes of people various new
channels of entertainment and information.--Amongst the ancients, wisdom
required austere manners and a length of beard to command attention;
but in our days, instruction, in the dress of innocent amusement, is
not denied admittance amongst the wise and good of all ranks. It is
therefore hoped that a succession of stories, adapted to different
ages, sexes, and situations in life, will not be rejected by the public,
unless they offend against morality, tire by their sameness, or disgust
by their imitation of other writers.

RICHARD LOVELL EDGEWORTH.

{Footnote 1: This Work was originally published in three volumes.}
CONTENTS

  LAME JERVAS                       1
  THE WILL                          55
  THE LIMERICK GLOVES               101
  OUT OF DEBT OUT OF DANGER         129
  THE LOTTERY                       161
  ROSANNA                           195
  MURAD THE UNLUCKY                 245
  THE MANUFACTURERS                 281
  THE CONTRAST                      317
  THE GRATEFUL NEGRO                399
  TO-MORROW                         421




LAME JERVAS

CHAPTER I.


Some years ago, a lad of the name of William Jervas, or, as he was
called from his lameness, Lame Jervas, whose business it was to tend the
horses in one of the Cornwall tin-mines, was missing. He was left one
night in a little hut, at one end of the mine, where he always slept;
but in the morning, he could no where be found; and this his sudden
disappearance gave rise to a number of strange and ridiculous stories
among the miners. The most rational, however, concluded that the lad,
tired of his situation, had made his escape during the night. It was
certainly rather surprising that he could no where be traced; but after
the neighbours had wondered and talked for some time about it, the
circumstance was by degrees forgotten. The name of William Jervas was
scarcely remembered by any, except two or three of the oldest miners,
when, twenty years afterward, there came a party of gentlemen and ladies
to see the mines! and, as the guide was showing the curiosities of the
place, one among the company, a gentleman of about six-and-thirty years
of age, pointed to some letters that were carved on the rock, and asked,
“Whose name was written there?” “Only the name of one William Jervas,”
 answered the guide; “a poor lad, who ran away from the mines a great
long while ago.” “Are you sure that he ran away?” said the gentleman.
“Yes,” answered the guide, “sure and certain I am of that.” “Not at
all sure and certain of any such thing,” cried one of the oldest of the
miners, who interrupted the guide, and then related all that he knew,
all that he had heard, and all that he imagined and believed concerning
the sudden disappearance of Jervas; concluding by positively assuring
the stranger that the ghost of the said Jervas was often seen to walk,
slowly, in the long west gallery of the mine, with a blue taper in his
hand.--“I will take my Bible oath,” added the man, “that about a month
after he was missing, I saw the ghost just as the clock struck twelve,
walking slowly, with the light in one hand, and a chain dragging after
him in t’other; and he was coming straight towards me, and I ran away
into the stables to the horses; and from that time forth I’ve taken
special good care never to go late in the evening to that there gallery,
or near it: for I never was so frightened, above or under ground, in all
my born days.”

The stranger, upon hearing this story, burst into a loud fit of
laughter; and, on recovering himself, he desired the ghost-seer to look
stedfastly in his face, and to tell whether he bore any resemblance to
the ghost that walked with the blue taper in the west gallery. The miner
stared for some minutes, and answered, “No; he that walks in the gallery
is clear another guess sort of a person; in a white jacket, a leather
apron, and ragged cap, like what Jervas used to wear in his lifetime;
and, moreover, he limps in his gait, as Lame Jervas always did, I
remember well.” The gentleman walked on, and the miners observed, what
had before escaped their notice, that he limped a little; and, when
he came again to the light, the guide, after considering him very
attentively, said, “If I was not afraid of affronting the like of a
gentleman such as your honour, I should make bold for to say that you be
very much--only a deal darker complexioned--you be very much of the same
sort of person as our Lame Jervas used for to be.” “Not at all like our
Lame Jervas,” cried the old miner, who professed to have seen the ghost;
“no more like to him than _Black Jack to Blue John._” The by-standers
laughed at this comparison; and the guide, provoked at being laughed at,
sturdily maintained that not a man that wore a head in Cornwall should
laugh him out of his senses. Each party now growing violent in support
of his opinion, from words they were just coming to blows, when the
stranger at once put an end to the dispute, by declaring that he was the
very man. “Jervas!” exclaimed they all at once, “Jervas alive!--our Lame
Jervas turned gentleman!”

The miners could scarcely believe their eyes, or their ears, especially
when, upon following him out of the mine, they saw him get into a
handsome coach, and drive toward the mansion of one of the principal
gentlemen of the neighbourhood, who was a proprietor of the mine.

The next day, all the head miners were invited to dine in tents, pitched
in a field near this gentleman’s house. It was fine weather, and harvest
time; the guests assembled, and in the tents found abundance of good
cheer provided for them.

After dinner, Mr. R----, the master of the house, appeared, accompanied
by Lame Jervas, dressed in his miner’s old jacket and cap. Even the
ghost-seer acknowledged that he now looked wonderful like himself. Mr.
R----, the master of the house, filled a glass, and drank--“Welcome
home to our friend, Mr. Jervas; and may good faith always meet with good
fortune.” The toast went round, each drank, and repeated, “Welcome home
to our friend Mr. Jervas; and may good faith always meet good fortune.”
 Indeed, what was meant by the good faith, or the good fortune, none
could guess; and many in whispers, and some aloud, made bold to ask for
an explanation of the toast.

Mr. Jervas, on whom all eyes were fixed, after thanking the company for
their _welcome home_, took his seat at the table; and in compliance with
Mr. R----‘s request, and the wishes of all present, related to them his
story nearly in the following manner:

“Where I was born, or who were my parents, I do not well know myself;
nor can I recollect who was my nurse, or whether I was ever nursed at
all: but, luckily, these circumstances are not of much importance to the
world. The first thing which I can distinctly remember is the being set,
along with a number of children of my own age, to pick and wash loose
ore of tin mixed with the earth, which in those days we used to call
_shoad_, or _squad_--I don’t know what you call it now.”

“We call it _squad_ to this day, master,” interrupted one of the miners.

“I might be at this time, I suppose,” continued the gentleman, “about
five or six years old; and from that time till I was thirteen I worked
in the mine where we were yesterday. From the bottom of my heart I
rejoice that the times are bettered for youngsters since then; for I
know I had a hard life of it.

“My good master, here, never knew any thing of the matter but I was
cruelly used by those under him. First, the old woman--Betty Morgan, I
think, was her name--who set us our tasks of picking and washing the
_squad_, was as cross as the rheumatism could make her. She never picked
an ounce herself, but made us do her heap for her among us; and I being
the youngest, it was shoved down to me. Often and often my day’s wages
were kept back, not having done this woman’s task; and I did not dare
to tell my master the truth, lest she should beat me. But, God rest
her soul! she was an angel of light in comparison with the _trap-door
keeper_, who was my next tyrant.

“It was our business to open and shut certain doors, that were placed
in the mine for letting in air to the different galleries: but my young
tyrant left them every one to me to take care of; and I was made to run
to and fro, till I had scarcely breath in my body, while every miner in
turn was swearing at me for the idlest little fellow upon the surface of
the earth; though the surface of the earth, alas! was a place on which I
had never yet, to my knowledge, set my foot.

“In my own defence, I made all the excuses I could think of; and, from
excuses, I went on to all kinds of deceit: for tyranny and injustice
always produce cunning and falsehood.

“One day, having shut all the doors on my side of the mine, I left three
open on my companion’s side. The men, I thought, would not go to work on
that side of the mine for a day or two: but in this I was mistaken; and
about noon I was alarmed by the report of a man having been killed in
one of the galleries for want of fresh air.

“The door-keepers were summoned before the overseer; or, as you call
him, the viewer. I was the youngest, and the blame was all laid upon
me. The man, who had only swooned, recovered; but I was thrashed and
thrashed for the neglect of another person, till the viewer was tired.

“A weary life I led afterwards with my friend the door-keeper, who was
enraged against me for having told the truth.

“In process of time, as I grew stronger and bigger, I was set to other
work. First, I was employed at the barrow; and then a pick-axe and a
_gad_{Footnote: A gad is a tool used in mines; it resembles a smith’s
punch.} were put into my hands; and I thought myself a great man.--It
was my fate to fall among the idlest set in the mine. I observed that
those men who worked by task, and who had the _luck_ to hit upon easy
beds of the rock, were not obliged to work more than three or four hours
a day: they got high wages with little labour; and they spent their
money jollily above-ground in the ale-houses, as I heard. I did not know
that these jolly fellows often left their wives and families starving
while they were getting drunk.

“I longed for the time when I should be a man, and do as I saw others
do. I longed for the days when I should be able to drink and be idle;
and, in the mean time, I set all my wits to work to baffle and overreach
the viewer.

“I was now about fourteen, and, had I grown up with these notions and
habits, I must have spent my life in wretchedness, and I should probably
have ended my days in a workhouse; but fortunately for me, an accident
happened, which made as great a change in my mind as in my body.

“One of my companions bribed me, with a strong dram, to go down into
a hole in the mine to search for his _gad_; which he, being half
intoxicated, had dropped. My head could not stand the strength of
the dram which he made me swallow to give me courage: and being quite
insensible to the danger, I took a leap down a precipice which I should
have shuddered to look at, if I had not lost my recollection.

“I soon came to my senses, for I broke my leg; and it is wonderful I did
not break my neck by my fall. I was drawn up by cords, and was carried
to a hut in the mine, near the stables, where I lay in great pain.

“My master was in the mine at the time the accident happened; and,
hearing where I was, he had the goodness to come directly to me himself,
to let me know that he had sent for a surgeon.

“The surgeon, who lived in the neighbourhood, was not at home; but there
was then upon a visit at my master’s a Mr. Y----, an old gentleman who
had been a surgeon; and, though he had for many years left off practice,
he no sooner heard of the accident that had happened to me than he had
the goodness to come down into the mine, to set my leg.

“After the operation was over, my master returned to tell me that I
should want for nothing. Never shall I forget the humanity with which
he treated me. I do not remember that I had ever heard him speak to
me before this time; but now his voice and manner were so full of
compassion and kindness, that I looked up to him as to a new sort of
being.

“His goodness wakened and warmed me to a sense of gratitude--the first
virtuous emotion I was conscious of having ever felt.

“I was attended with the greatest care, during my illness, by the
benevolent surgeon, Mr. Y----. The circumstance of my having been
intoxicated, when I took the leap, had been concealed by the man who
gave me the dram; who declared that I had fallen by accident, as I was
looking down the hole for a _gad_ that I had dropped. I did not join
in this falsehood: for, the moment my master spoke to me with so much
goodness about my mishap, my heart opened to him, and I told him just
how the thing happened.

“Mr. Y---- also heard the truth from me, and I had no reason to repent
having told it, for this gave him, as he said, hopes that I might turn
out well, and was the cause of his taking some pains to instruct me. He
observed to me, that it was a pity a lad like me should so early in
my days take to dram-drinking; and he explained the consequences of
intemperance, of which I had never before heard or thought.

“While I was confined to my bed, I had leisure for many reflections. The
drunken and brutal among the miners, with whom I formerly associated,
never came near me in my illness; but the better sort used to come and
see me often, and I began to take a liking to their ways, and to wish to
imitate them.

“As they stood talking over their own affairs in my hut, I learned how
they laid out their time and their money; and I now began to desire to
have, as they had, a little garden, and property of my own, for which I
knew I must work hard. So I rose from my bed with very different views
from those which I had when I was laid down upon it; and from this
time forward I kept company with the sober and industrious as much as
I could. I saw things with different eyes: formerly I used, like my
companions, to be ready enough to take any advantage that lay in my
way of my employer; but my gratitude to him who had befriended me in my
helpless state wrought such a change in me, that I now took part with
my master on all occasions, and could not bear to see him wronged--so
gratitude first made me honest.

“My master would not let the viewer turn me out of the work, as
he wanted to do, because I was lame and weak, and not able to do
much.--‘Let him have the care of my horses in the stable,’ said my
master: ‘he can do something. I don’t want to make money of poor _Lame
Jervas_. So, as long as he is willing to work, he shall not be turned
out to starve.’--These were his very words; and when I heard them I said
in my heart, ‘God bless him!’ And, from that time forth, I could, as I
thought, have fought with the stoutest man in the mine that said a word
to his disparagement.

“Perhaps my feeling of attachment to him was the stronger, because he
was, I may say, the first person then in the world who had ever shown me
any tenderness, and the only one from whom I felt sure of meeting with
justice.

“About this time, as I was busied in the stable, unperceived by them, I
saw through a window a party of the miners, amongst whom were several of
my old associates, at work opposite to me. Suddenly, one of them gave
a shout--then all was hushed--they threw down their tools, huddled
together, and I judged by the keenness of their looks that they knew
they had made some valuable discovery. I further observed, that, instead
of beginning to work the vein, they covered it up immediately with
rubbish, and defaced the _country_ with their pick-axes; so that, to
look at, no one could have suspected there was any _load_ to be found
near. I also saw them secrete a lump of spar, in which they had reason
to guess there were Cornish diamonds, as they call them, and they
carefully hid the bits of _kellus_{Footnote: 2 _Kellus_ is the miner’s
name for a substance like a white soft stone, which lies above the floor
or spar, near to a vein.}, which they had picked out, lest the viewer
should notice them and suspect the truth.

“From all this, the whispering that went on, and the pains they took
to chase or entice the overseer away from this spot, I conjectured they
meant to keep their discovery a secret, that they might turn it to their
own advantage.

“There was a passage out of the mine, known only to themselves, as they
thought, through which they intended to convey all the newly-found ore.
This passage, I should observe, led through an old gallery in the mine,
along the side of the mountain, immediately up to the surface of the
earth; so that you could by this way come in and out of the mine without
the assistance of the _gin_, by which people and ore are usually let
down or drawn up.

“I made myself sure of my facts by searching this passage, in which I
found plenty of their purloined treasure. I then went up to one of
the party, whose name was Clarke, and, drawing him aside, ventured to
expostulate with him. Clarke cursed me for a spy, and then knocked me
down, and returned to tell his associates what I had been saying, and
how he had served me. They one and all swore that they would be revenged
upon me, if I gave the least hint of what I had seen to our master.

“From this time they watched me, whenever he came down amongst us, lest
I should have an opportunity of speaking to him; and they never, on any
account, would suffer me to go out of the mine. Under pretence that the
horses must be looked after, and that no one tended them so well as I
did, they contrived to keep me prisoner night and day; hinting to me
pretty plainly, that if I ever again complained of being thus _shut up_,
I should not long be buried _alive_.

“Whether they would have gone the lengths they threatened I know not:
perhaps they threw out these hints only with a design to intimidate me,
and so to preserve their secret. I confess I was alarmed; but there
was something in the thought of showing my good master how much I was
attached to his interests, that continually prevailed over my fears; and
my spirits rose with the reflection that I, a poor insignificant lad; I,
that was often the scoff and laughing-stock of the miners; I, that went
by the name of _Lame Jervas_; I, who they thought could be bullied
to any thing by their threats, might do a nobler action than any man
amongst them would have the courage to do in my place. Then the kindness
of my master, and the words he said about me to the viewer, came into my
memory; and I was so worked up, that I resolved, let the consequence be
what it might, I would, living or dying, be faithful to my benefactor.

“I now waited anxiously for an opportunity to speak to him; and if I did
but hear the sound of his voice at a distance, my heart beat violently.
‘You little know,’ thought I, ‘that there is one here whom perhaps you
quite forget, who is ready to hazard his life to do you a service.’

“One day, as he was coming near the place where I was at work, rubbing
down a horse, he took notice that I fixed my eyes very earnestly upon
him; and he came closer to me, saying, ‘I am glad to see you better,
Jervas:--do you want any thing?’ ‘I want for nothing, thank you,
sir,--but,’--and as I said _but_, I looked round, to see who was near.
Instantly Clarke, one of the gang, who had his eyes upon us, called me,
and despatched me, on some errand, to a distant part of the mine. As I
was coming back, however, it was my good fortune to meet my master by
himself in one of the galleries. I told him my secret and my fears.
He answered me only with a nod, and these words, ‘Thank you--trust to
me--make haste back to those that sent you.’

“I did so; but I fancy there was something unusual in my manner or
countenance which gave alarm; for, at the close of the day, I saw Clarke
and the gang whispering together; and I observed that they refrained
from going to their secret treasure the whole of the day. I was in great
fear that they suspected me, and that they would take immediate and
perhaps bloody revenge.

“These fears increased when I found myself left alone in my hut at
night; and, as I lay quite still, but broad awake in my bed, I listened
to every sound, and once or twice started up on hearing some noise near
me; but it was only the horses moving in the stable, which was close to
my hut. I lay down again, laughing at my own fears, and endeavoured to
compose myself to sleep, reflecting that I had never, in my life, more
reason to sleep with a safe conscience.

“I then turned round, and fell into a sweet sound sleep; but from this
I was suddenly roused by a noise at the door of my hut. ‘It is only the
horses again,’ thought I; but, opening my eyes, I saw a light under
the door. I rubbed my eyes, hoping I had been in a dream: the light
disappeared, and I thought it was my fancy. As I kept my eyes, however,
turned towards the door, I saw the light again through the key-hole, and
the latch was pulled up; the door was then softly pushed inwards, and I
saw on the wall the large shadow of a man with a pistol in his hand. My
heart sunk within me, and I gave myself up for lost. The man came in: he
was muffled up in a thick coat, his hat was slouched, and a lantern in
his hand. Which of the gang it was I did not know, but I took it for
granted that it was one of them come with intent to murder me. Terror at
this instant left me; and starting upright in my bed, I exclaimed--‘I’m
ready to die! I die in a good cause! Give me five minutes to say my
prayers!’ and I fell upon my knees. The man standing silent beside the
bed, with one hand upon me, as if afraid I should escape from him.

“When I had finished my short prayer, I looked up towards my murderer,
expecting the stroke: but, what was my surprise and joy, when, as he
held the lantern up to his face, I beheld--the countenance of my master,
smiling upon me with the most encouraging benevolence. ‘Awake, Jervas,’
said he, ‘and try if you can find out the difference between a friend
and an enemy. Put on your clothes as fast as you can, and show me the
way to this new vein.’

“No one ever was sooner dressed than I was. I led the way to the spot,
which was covered up with rubbish, so that I was some time clearing out
an opening, my master assisting me all the while: for, as he said, he
was impatient to get me out of the mine safe, as he did not think my
apprehensions wholly without foundation. The light of our lantern was
scarcely sufficient for our purpose; but, when we came to the vein, my
master saw enough to be certain that I was in the right. We covered up
the place as before, and he noted the situation, so that he could be
sure to find it again. Then I showed him the way to the secret passage;
but this passage he knew already, for by it he had descended into the
mine this night.

“As we passed along, I pointed out the heaps of ore which lay ready to
be carried off. ‘It is enough, Jervas,’ said he, clapping his hand upon
my shoulder; ‘you have given me proof sufficient of your fidelity. Since
you were so ready to die in a good cause, and that cause mine, it is
my business to take care you shall live by it: so follow me out of this
place directly; and I will take good care of you, my honest lad.’

“I followed him with quick steps, and a joyful heart: he took me home
with him to his own house, where he said I might sleep for the rest of
the night secure from all fear of murderers: and so, showing me into
a small closet within his own bedchamber, he wished me a good night;
desiring me, if I waked early, not to open the window-shutters of my
room, nor go to the window, lest some of his people should see me.

“I lay down, for the first time in my life, upon a feather-bed; but,
whether it was from the unusual feeling of the soft bed, or from the
hurry of mind in which I had been kept, and the sudden change of my
circumstances, I could not sleep a wink all the remainder of the night.

“Before daybreak, my master came into my room, and bid me rise, put
on the clothes which he brought me, and follow him without making any
noise. I followed him out of the house before any body else was awake;
and he took me across the fields towards the high road. At this place
we waited till we heard the tinkling of the bells of a team of horses.
‘Here comes the waggon,’ said he, ‘in which you are to go. I have taken
every possible precaution to prevent any of the miners or people in the
neighbourhood from tracing you; and you will be in safety at Exeter,
with my friend Mr. Y----; to whom I am going to send you. Take this,’
continued he, putting a letter directed to Mr. Y---- into my hand; ‘and
here are five guineas for you. I shall desire Mr. Y---- to pay you an
annuity of ten guineas out of the profits of the new vein, provided it
turns out well, and you do not turn out ill. So fare you well, Jervas.
I shall hear how you go on; and I only hope you will serve your next
master, whoever he may be, as faithfully as you have served me.’

“‘I shall never find so good a master,’ was all I could say for the soul
of me; for I was quite overcome by his goodness and by sorrow at parting
with him, as I then thought, for ever.”




CHAPTER II.


“The morning clouds began to clear away; I could see my master at some
distance, and I kept looking after him, as the waggon went on slowly,
and as he walked fast away over the fields; but, when I had lost sight
of him, my thoughts were forcibly turned to other things. I seemed to
awake to quite a new scene, and new feelings. Buried underground in
a mine, as I had been from my infancy, the face of nature was totally
unknown to me.

“‘We shall have a brave fine day of it, I hope and trust,’ said the
waggoner, pointing with his long whip to the rising sun.

“He went on whistling, whilst I, to whom the rising sun was a spectacle
wholly surprising, started up in astonishment! I know not what
exclamations I uttered, as I gazed upon it; but I remember the waggoner
burst out into a loud laugh. ‘_Lud a marcy_,’ said he, holding his
sides, ‘to hear _un_, and look at _un_, a body would think the oaf had
never seen the sun rise afore in all his born days!’

“Upon this hint, which was nearer the truth than he imagined,
recollecting that we were still in Cornwall, and not out of the reach of
my enemies, I drew myself back into the waggon, lest any of the miners,
passing the road to their morning’s work, might chance to spy me out.

“It was well for me that I took this precaution; for we had not gone
much farther when we met a party of the miners; and, as I sat wedged up
in a corner behind a heap of parcels, I heard the voice of Clarke, who
asked the waggoner as he passed us, ‘What o’clock it might be?’ I kept
myself quite snug till he was out of sight; nay, long afterwards, I was
content to sit within the waggon, rather than venture out; and I
amused myself with listening to the bells of the team, which jingled
continually.

“On our second day’s journey, however, I ventured out of my
hiding-place; I walked with the waggoner up and down the hills, enjoying
the fresh air, the singing of the birds, and the delightful smell of the
honey-suckles and the dog-roses in the hedges. All these wild flowers,
and even the weeds on the banks by the way-side, were to me matters
of wonder and admiration. At every step, almost, I paused to observe
something that was new to me; and I could not help feeling surprised
at the insensibility of my fellow-traveller, who plodded on, seldom
interrupting his whistling, except to cry, ‘Gee, Blackbird, aw, woa;’
or, ‘How now, Smiler;’ and certain other words or sounds of menace
and encouragement, addressed to his horses in a language which seemed
intelligible to them and to him, though utterly incomprehensible to me.

“Once, as I was in admiration of a plant, whose stem was about two feet
high, and which had a round, shining, pale purple, beautiful flower, the
waggoner, with a look of extreme scorn, exclaimed, ‘Help thee, lad, does
not thee know ‘tis a common thistle? Didst thee not know that a thistle
would prick thee?’ continued he, laughing at the face I made when I
touched the prickly leaves; ‘why my horse Dobbin has more sense by half!
he is not like an ass hunting for thistles.’

“After this, the waggoner seemed to look upon me as very nearly an
idiot. Just as we were going into the town of Plymouth, he eyed me from
head to foot, and muttered, ‘The lad’s beside himself, sure enough.’
In truth, I believe I was a droll figure; for my hat was stuck full of
weeds, and of all sorts of wild flowers; and both my coat and waistcoat
pockets were stuffed out with pebbles and funguses.

“Such an effect, however, had the waggoner’s contemptuous look upon me,
that I pulled the weeds out of my hat, and threw down all my treasure of
pebbles before we entered the town. Nay, so much was I overawed, and in
such dread was I of passing for an idiot, that when we came within view
of the sea, in the fine harbour of Plymouth, I did not utter a single
exclamation; although I was struck prodigiously at this, my first sight
of the ocean, as much almost as I had been at the spectacle of the
rising sun. I just ventured, however, to ask my companion some questions
about the vessels which I beheld sailing on the sea, and the shipping
with which the bay was filled. But he answered coldly, ‘They be nothing
in life but the boats and ships, man: them that see them for the first
time are often struck all on a heap, as I’ve noticed, in passing by
here: but I’ve seen it all a many and a many times.’ So he turned
away, went on chewing a straw, and seemed not a whit more moved with
admiration than he had been at the sight of my thistle.

“I conceived a high opinion of a man who had seen so much that he could
admire nothing; and he preserved and increased my respect for him by the
profound silence which he maintained, during the five succeeding days of
our journey: he seldom or never opened his lips except to inform me of
the names of the towns through which we passed. I have since
reflected that it was fortunate for me that I had such a supercilious
fellow-traveller on my first journey; for he made me at once thoroughly
sensible of my own ignorance, and extremely anxious to supply my
deficiencies, and to find one who would give some other answer to my
questions than a smile of contempt, or, ‘_I do na knaw, I say_.’

“We arrived at Exeter at last; and, with much ado, I found my way to Mr.
Y----‘s house. It was evening when I got there; and the servant to
whom I gave the letter said he supposed Mr. Y---- would not see me that
night, as he liked to have his evenings to himself; but he took the
letter, and in a few minutes returned, desiring me to follow him up
stairs.

“I found the good old gentleman and some of his friends in his study,
with his grand-children about him; one little chap on his knee, another
climbing on the arm of his chair; and two bigger lads were busy looking
at a glass tube which he was showing them when I came in. It does not
become me to repeat the handsome things he said to me, upon reading over
my good master’s letter; but he was very gracious to me, and told me
that he would look out for some place or employment that would suit me;
and in the mean time, that I should be welcome to stay in his house,
where I should meet with the good treatment (which he was pleased to
say) I deserved. Then, observing that I was overcome with bashfulness,
at being looked at by so many strangers, he kindly dismissed me.

“The next day he sent for me again to his study, when he was alone;
and asked me several questions, seeming pleased with the openness and
simplicity of my answers. He saw that I gazed with vast curiosity at
several objects in the room, which were new to me: and pointing to the
glass tube, which he had been showing the boys when I first came in, he
asked me if they had such things as that in our mines; and if I knew
the use of it? I told him I had seen something like it in our overseer’s
hands; but that I had never known its use. It was a thermometer. Mr.
Y---- took great pains to show me how, and on what occasions, this
instrument might be useful.

“I saw I had now to do with a person who was somewhat different from my
friend the waggoner; and I cannot express the surprise and gratitude
I felt, when I found that he did not think me quite a fool. Instead of
looking at me with scorn, as one _very nearly an idiot_, he answered
my questions with condescension; and sometimes was so good as to add,
‘That’s a sensible question, my lad.’

“While we were looking at the thermometer, he found out that I could
not read the words _temperate, freezing point, boiling water heat, &c._
which were written upon the ivory scale, in small characters. He took
that occasion to point out to me the use and advantages of knowing how
to read and write; and he told me that, as I wished to learn, he would
desire the writing-master, who came to attend his young grandson, to
teach me.

“I shall not detain you with a journal of my progress through my
spelling-book and copy-books: it is enough to say that I applied with
diligence, and soon could write my name in rather more intelligible
characters than those in which the name of Jervas is cut on the rock
that we were looking at yesterday.

“My eagerness to read the books which he put into my hands, and the
attention which I paid to his lessons, pleased my writing-master so
much, that he took a pride, as he said, ‘_in bringing me forward as fast
as possible_.’

“And here, I must confess, he was rather imprudent in the warmth of his
commendations; my head could not stand them; as much as I was humbled
and mortified by the waggoner’s calling me _an idiot_, so much was I
elated by my writing-master’s calling me _a genius_. I wrote some very
bad lines in praise of a thistle, which I thought prodigiously fine,
because my writing-master looked surprised, when I showed them to
him; and because he told me that, having given a copy of them to some
gentlemen in Exeter, they agreed that the rhymes were _wonderful for
me_.

“I was at this period very nearly spoiled for life: but fortunately
my friend Mr. Y---- saw my danger, and cured me of my conceit, without
damping my ardour to acquire knowledge. He took me to the books in
his study, and showed me many volumes of fine poems; pointing out some
passages to me that greatly diminished my admiration of my own lines on
the thistle. The vast distance which I perceived between myself and these
writers threw me into despair. Mr. Y---- seeing me thoroughly abashed,
observed that he was glad to find I saw the difference between bad and
good poetry; and pointed out to me, it was not likely, if I turned my
industry to writing verses, that I should ever either earn my bread, or
equal those who had enjoyed greater advantages of leisure and education.
‘But, Jervas,’ continued he, ‘I commend you for your application and
quickness in learning to write and read, in so short a time: you will
find both these qualifications of great advantage to you. Now, I advise
you, turn your thoughts to something that may make you useful to other
people. You have your bread to earn, and this you can only do by making
yourself useful in some way or other. Look about you, and you will see
that I tell you truth. You may perceive that the servants in my house
are all useful to me, and that I pay them for their services. The cook
who can dress my dinner, the baker who bakes bread for me, the smith who
knows how to shoe my horses, the writing-master who undertakes to
teach my children to write, can all earn money for themselves, and make
themselves independent.--And you may remark that, of all those I have
mentioned, the writing-master is the most respected, and the best paid.
There are some kinds of knowledge, and some kinds of labour, that are
more highly paid for than others. But I have said enough to you, Jervas,
for the present: I do not want to lecture you, but to serve you.--You
are a young lad, and have had no experience; I am an old man, and have
had a great deal: so perhaps my advice may be of some use to you.’

“His advice was indeed of the greatest use to me: every word he said
sunk into my mind. I wish those who give advice to young people,
especially to those in a lower station than themselves, would
follow this gentleman’s example; and, instead of haranguing with the
haughtiness of superior knowledge, would speak with such kindness as to
persuade at the same time that they convince.

“The very day that Mr. Y---- spoke to me in this manner, he called me
in, that I might tell his eldest grandson the names which we miners
give to certain fossils that had been sent him from Cornwall; and, after
observing to the boy that this knowledge would be useful to him,
he begged me to tell him exactly how the mine, in which I had been
employed, was worked. This I did, as well as I was able; and imperfect
as my description was, it entertained the boys so much that I determined
to try to make a sort of model of the tin-mine for their amusement.

“But this I found no easy task; my remembrance, even of the place in
which I had lived all my life, was not sufficiently exact to serve
me, as to the length, height, breadth, &c. of the different parts; and
though Mr. Y---- had a good collection of fossils, I was at a loss, for
want of materials, to represent properly the different strata and veins;
or, as we call it, _the country_.

“My temper, naturally enthusiastic, was not on this occasion to be
daunted by any difficulties. I was roused by the notion that I should
be able to complete something that would be _really useful_ to my kind
benefactor’s family; and I anticipated with rapture, the moment when I
should produce my model complete, and justify Mr. Y----‘s opinion of my
diligence and capacity. I thought of nothing else from the moment these
ideas came into my head. The measures, plans, and specimens of earths
and ore which were wanting, I knew could only be obtained from the
mine; and such was my ardour to accomplish my little project, that I
determined at all hazards to return into Cornwall, and to ask my good
master’s permission to revisit the mine in the night time.

“Accordingly, without a moment’s delay, I set out upon this expedition.
Part of the journey I performed on foot; but wherever I could, I got
a set down, because I was impatient to get near the _Land’s End_.
I concluded that the wonder excited by my sudden disappearance had
subsided by this time; that I was too insignificant to make it worth
while to continue a search after me for more than a few days; and that,
in all likelihood, my master had dismissed from his work the gang who
had been concerned in the plot, and who were the only persons whose
revenge I had reason to fear.

“However, as I drew near the mine, I had the prudence not to expose
myself unnecessarily; and I watched my opportunity so well, that I
contrived to meet my master, in his walk homeward, when no one was with
him. I hastily gave him a letter from Mr. Y----, as a certificate of
my good conduct since my leaving him; then explained the reason of my
return, and asked permission to examine the mines that night.

“He expressed a good deal of surprise, but no displeasure, at my
boldness in returning: he willingly granted my request; but, at the same
time, warned me that some of my enemies were still in the neighbourhood;
and that, though he had dismissed them from his works, and though
several had left the country in search of employment elsewhere, yet he
was informed that two or three of the gang, and Clarke among the number,
were seen lurking about the country: that they had sworn vengeance
against me for _betraying_ them, as they called it; and had been
indefatigably active in their search after me.

“My master consequently advised me to stay only the ensuing night, and
to depart before daybreak: he also cautioned me not to wake the man who
now slept in my hut in the mine.

“I did not like to spoil the only good suit of clothes of which I was
possessed; so, before I went down into the mine, I got from my master my
old jacket, apron, and cap, in which being equipped, and furnished with
a lantern, and rod for measuring, I descended into the mine.

“I went to work as quietly as possible, surveyed the place exactly, and
remembered what I had heard Mr. Y---- observe, ‘that people can never
make their knowledge useful, if they have not been at the pains to
make it exact.’ I was determined to give him a proof of my exactness:
accordingly I measured and minuted down every thing with the most
cautious accuracy; and, so intent was my mind upon my work, the thoughts
of Clarke and his associates never came across me for a moment. Nay,
I absolutely forgot the man in the hut, and am astonished he was not
sooner waked.

“What roused him at last was, I believe, the noise I made in loosening
some earth and stones for specimens. A great stone came tumbling down,
and immediately afterwards I heard one of the horses neigh, which showed
me I had waked them at least; and I betook myself to a hiding-place, in
the western gallery, where I kept quiet, for I believe a quarter of an
hour, in order to give the horses and the man, if he were awake, time to
go to sleep again.

“I ventured out of my hiding-place too soon; for, just as I left my
nook, I saw the man at the end of the gallery. Instantly, upon the sight
of me, he put both his hands before his face, gave a loud shriek, turned
his back, and took to his heels with the greatest precipitation. I
guessed that, as he said yesterday, he took me for the ghost of myself;
and that his terror made him mistake my lantern for a blue taper. I had
no chain; but that I had a rod in my hand is most certain: and it is
also true that I took advantage of his fears, to drive him out of my
way; for the moment he began to run, I shook my rod as fast and as loud
as I could against the tin top of my lantern; and I trampled with my
feet as if I was pursuing him.

“As soon as the coast was clear, I hastened back for my specimens; which
I packed up in my basket, and then decamped as fast as I could. This is
the only time I ever walked in the western gallery with a _blue taper_
in my hand, dragging a _chain_ after me, whatever the ghost-seer may
report to the contrary.

“I was heartily glad to get away, and to have thus happily accomplished
the object of my journey. I carried my basket on my back for some miles,
till I got to the place where a waggon put up; and in this I travelled
safely back to Exeter.

“I determined not to show my model to Mr. Y----, or the boys, till
it should be as complete as I could make it. I got a good ingenious
carpenter, who had been in the habit of working for the toy-shops, to
help me; and laid out the best part of my worldly treasure upon this my
grand first project. I had new models made of the sieves for _lueing_,
the _box_ and _trough_, the _buddle, wreck, and tool_ {Footnote: The
names of vessels and machines used in the Cornish tin-mines.}, beside
some dozen of wooden workmen, wheelbarrows, &c,; with which the
carpenter, by my directions, furnished my mine. I paid a smith and
tinman, moreover, for models of our _stamps_, and _blowing-house_, and
an iron grate for my box: besides, I had a _lion rampant_ {Footnote: A
lion rampant is stamped on the block tin which is brought thence.}, and
other small matters, from the pewterer; also a pair of bellows, finished
by the glover; for all which articles, as they were out of the common
way, I was charged high.

“It was some time, even when all this was ready, before we could
contrive to make our puppets do their business properly: but patience
accomplishes every thing. At last we got our wooden miners to obey us,
and to perform their several tasks at the word of command; that is to
say, at the pulling of certain strings and wires, which we fastened to
their legs, arms, heads, and shoulders: which wires, being slender and
black, were at a little distance invisible to the spectators. When the
skeletons were perfect, we fell to work to dress and paint them; and
I never shall forget the delight with which I contemplated our whole
company of puppets: men, women, and children, fresh painted and dizened
out, all in their proper colours. The carpenter could scarcely prevent
me from spoiling them: I was so impatient to set them at work that I
could not wait till their clothes were dry; and I was every half hour
rubbing my fingers upon their cheeks, to try whether the red paint was
yet hard enough.

“With some pride, I announced my intended exhibition to Mr. Y----; and
he appointed that evening for seeing it, saying that none but his own
boys should be present at the first representation. It was for
them alone it was originally designed; but I was so charmed with my
newly-finished work, that I would gladly have had all Exeter present at
the exhibition. However, before night, I was convinced of my friend Mr.
Y----‘s superior prudence: the whole thing, as the carpenter said,
_went off_ pretty well; but several disasters happened which I had not
foreseen. There was one stiff old fellow, whose arms, twitch them which
way I would, I could never get to bend: and an obstinate old woman, who
would never do any thing else but curtsy, when I wanted her to kneel
down and to do her work. My children sorted their heaps of rubbish and
ore very dexterously; excepting one unlucky little chap, who, from the
beginning, had his head, somehow or other, turned the wrong way upon
his shoulders; and I could never manage, all the night, to set it right
again: it was in vain I flattered myself that his wry neck would escape
observation; for, as he was one of the wheelbarrow boys, he was a
conspicuous figure in the piece; and, whenever he appeared, wheeling
or emptying his barrow, I to my mortification heard repeated peals of
laughter from the spectators, in which even my patron, notwithstanding
his good-natured struggles against it for some time, was at last
compelled to join.

“I, all the while, was wiping my forehead behind my show-box; for I
never was in such a bath of heat in my life: not the hardest day’s work
I ever wrought in the mine made me one half so hot as setting these
puppets to work.

“When my exhibition was over, good Mr. Y---- came to me, and consoled
me for all disasters, by the praises he bestowed upon my patience and
ingenuity: he showed me that he knew the difficulties with which I had
to contend: and he mentioned the defects to me in the kindest manner,
and how they might be remedied. ‘I see,’ said he, smiling, ‘that you
have endeavoured to make something useful for the entertainment of my
boys; and I will take pains to make it turn out advantageously to you.’

“The next morning I went to look at my show-box, which Mr. Y---- had
desired me to leave in his study; and I was surprised to see the front
of the box, which I had left open for the spectators, filled up with
boards, and having a circular glass in the middle. The eldest boy, who
stood by enjoying my surprise, bid me look in, and tell him what I saw.
What was my astonishment, when I first looked through this glass--‘As
large as the life!--As large as the life!’ cried I, in admiration--‘I
see the puppets, the _wheelbarrows_, every thing as large as life!’

“Mr. Y---- then told me, that it was by his grandson’s directions that
this glass, which he said was called a magnifying-glass, or convex-lens,
was added to my show-box. ‘He makes you a present of it; and now,’ added
he, smiling, ‘get all your little performers into order, and prepare for
a second representation: I will send for a clock-maker in this town,
who is an _ingenious_ man, and will show you how to manage properly the
motions of your puppets; and then we will get a good painter to paint
them for you.”

“There was at this time, in Exeter, a society of literary gentlemen, who
met once a week at each other’s houses. Mr. Y---- was one of these; and
several of the principal families in Exeter, especially those who had
children, came on the appointed evening to see the model of the Cornwall
tin-mine, which, with the assistance of the clock-maker and painter, was
now become really a show worth looking at. I made but few blunders this
time, and the company were indulgent enough to pardon these, and to
express themselves well pleased with my little exhibition. They gave me,
indeed, solid marks of their satisfaction, which were quite unexpected:
after the exhibition, Mr. Y----‘s youngest grandchild, in the name
of the rest of the company, presented me with a purse, containing the
contributions which had been made for me.

“After repaying all my expenses for my journey and machinery, I found
I had six guineas and a crown to spare. So I thought myself a rich man;
and, having never seen so much money together in my life before, as six
golden guineas and a crown, I should, most probably, like the generality
of people who come into the possession of unexpected wealth, have become
extravagant, had it not been for the timely advice of my kind monitor,
Mr. Y----. When I showed him a pair of Chinese tumblers, which I had
bought from a pedlar for twice as much as they were worth, merely
because they pleased my fancy, he shook his head, and observed that I
might, before my death, want this very money to buy a loaf of bread. ‘If
you spend your money as fast as you get it, Jervas,’ said he, ‘no matter
how ingenious or industrious you are, you will always be poor. Remember
the good proverb that says, _Industry is Fortune’s right hand, and
Frugality her left_;’ a proverb which has been worth ten times more to
me than all my little purse contained: so true it is, that those do not
always give most who give money.”




CHAPTER III.


“I had soon reason to rejoice at having thrown away no more money on
baubles, as I had occasion for my whole stock to fit myself out for a
new way of life. ‘Jervas,’ said Mr. Y---- to me, ‘I have at last found
an occupation, which I hope will suit you.’--Unknown to me, he had been,
ever since he first saw my little model, intent upon turning it to
my lasting advantage. Among the gentlemen of the society which I have
before mentioned, there was one who had formed a design of sending
some well-informed lecturer through England, to exhibit models of
the machines used in manufactories: Mr. Y---- purposely invited this
gentleman the evening that I exhibited my tin-mine, and proposed to him
that I should be permitted to accompany his lecturer. To this he
agreed. Mr. Y---- told me that although the person who was fixed upon as
lecturer was not exactly the sort of man he should have chosen, yet
as he was a relation of the gentleman who set the business on foot, no
objection could well be made to him.

“I was rather daunted by the cold and haughty look with which my new
master, the lecturer, received me when I was presented to him. Mr.
Y----, observing this, whispered to me at parting. ‘Make yourself
useful, and you will soon be agreeable to him. We must not expect to
find friends ready made wherever we go in the world: we often have to
make friends for ourselves with great pains and care.’ It cost me both
pains and care, I know, to make this lecturer my friend. He was what
is called _born a gentleman;_ and he began by treating me as a low-born
upstart, who, being perfectly ignorant, wanted to pass for a self-taught
_genius._ That I was low-born, I did not attempt to conceal; nor did I
perceive that I had any reason to be ashamed of my birth, or of having
raised myself by honest means to a station above that in which I was
born. I was proud of this circumstance, and therefore it was no torment
to me to hear the continual hints which my well-born master threw out
upon this subject. I moreover never pretended to any knowledge which I
had not; so that, by degrees, notwithstanding his prejudices, he began
to feel that I had neither the presumption of an upstart, nor of a
self-taught genius. I kept in mind the counsel given to me by Mr. Y----,
to endeavour to make myself useful to my employer; but it was no
easy matter to do this at first, because he had such a dread of my
awkwardness that he would never let me touch any of his apparatus. I was
always left to stand like a cipher beside him whilst he lectured; and
I had regularly the mortification of hearing him conclude his lecture
with, ‘_Now, gentlemen and ladies, I will not detain you any longer from
what, I am sensible, is much better worth your attention than any thing
I can offer--Mr. Jervas’s puppet-show_.’

“It happened one day that he sent me with a shilling, as he thought,
to pay a hostler for the feeding of his horse; as I rubbed the money
between my finger and thumb, I perceived that the white surface came
off, and the piece looked yellow: I recollected that my master had the
day before been showing some experiments with quicksilver and gold, and
that he had covered a guinea with quicksilver: so I immediately took the
money back, and my master, for the first time in his life, thanked me
very cordially; for this was in reality a guinea, and not a shilling.
He was also surprised at my directly mentioning the experiment he had
shown.

“The next day that he lectured, he omitted the offensive conclusion
about Mr. Jervas’s puppet-show. I observed, farther, to my infinite
satisfaction, that after this affair of the guinea, he was not so
suspicious of my honesty as he used to appear to be: he now yielded more
to his natural indolence, and suffered me to pack up his things for him,
and to do a hundred little services which formerly he used roughly to
refuse at my hands; saying, ‘I had rather do it myself, _sir_,’ or, ‘I
don’t like to have _any_ body meddle with my things, Mr. Jervas.’ But
his tone changed, and it was now, ‘Jervas, I’ll leave you to put up
these things, whilst I go and read;’--or, ‘Jervas, will you see that I
leave none of my goods behind me, there’s a good lad?’--In truth, he
was rather apt to leave his goods behind him: he was the most absent and
forgetful man alive. During the first half year we travelled together,
whilst he attempted to take care of his own things, I counted that he
lost two pair and a half of slippers, one boot, three night-caps, one
shirt, and fifteen pocket-handkerchiefs. Many of these losses, I make no
doubt, were set down in his imagination to my account whilst he had
no opinion of my honesty; but I am satisfied that he was afterwards
thoroughly convinced of the injustice of his suspicions, as, from the
time that I had the charge of his _goods_, as he called them, to the day
we parted, including a space of above four years and a half, he never
lost any thing but one red nightcap, which, to the best of my belief, he
sent in his wig one Sunday morning to the barber’s, but which never came
back again, and an old ragged blue pocket-handkerchief, which he said he
put under his pillow, or into his boot, when he went to bed at night. He
had an odd way of sticking his pocket-handkerchief into his boot, that
he might be sure to find it in the morning.’ I suspect the handkerchief
was carried down in the boot when it was taken to be cleaned. He was,
however, perfectly certain that these two losses were not to be imputed
to any carelessness of mine. He often said he was obliged to me for the
attention I paid to his interests; he treated me now very civilly, and
would sometimes condescend to explain to me in private what I did not
understand in his public lectures.

“I was presently advanced to the dignity of his secretary. He wrote
a miserably bad hand: and his manuscripts were so scratched and
interlined, that it was with the utmost difficulty he could decipher
his own writing, when he was obliged to have recourse to his notes
in lecturing. He was, moreover, extremely near-sighted; and he had a
strange trick of wrinkling up the skin on the bridge of his nose when he
was perplexed: altogether, his look was so comical when he began to pore
over these papers of his, that few of the younger part of our audiences
could resist their inclination to laugh. This disconcerted him beyond
measure; and he was truly glad to accept my offer of copying out his
scrawls fairly in a good bold round hand. I could now write, if I
may say it without vanity, an excellent hand, and could go over
his calculations as far as the first four rules of arithmetic were
concerned; so that I became quite his _factotum_: and I thought myself
rewarded for all my pains, by having opportunities of gaining every
day some fresh piece of knowledge from the perusal of the notes which I
transcribed.

“It was now that I felt most thoroughly the advantage of having learned
to read and write: stores of useful information were opened to me, and
my curiosity and desire to inform myself were insatiable. I often sat
up half the night reading and writing: I had free access now to all my
fellow-traveller’s books, and I thought I could never study them enough.

“At the commencement of my studies, my master often praised my
diligence, and would show me where to look for what I wanted in his
books, or explain difficulties: I looked up to him as a miracle of
science and learning; nay, I was actually growing fond of him, but this
did not last long. In process of time, he grew shy of explaining things
to me; he scolded me for thumbing his books, though, God knows, my
thumbs were always cleaner than his own, and he thwarted me continually
upon some pretence or other. I could not for some time conceive the
cause of this change in my master’s behaviour: indeed it was hard for
me to guess or believe that he was become jealous of the talents and
knowledge of a poor lad, whose ignorance he, but a few years before, had
so much despised and derided. I was the more surprised at this new turn
of his mind, because I was conscious that, instead of becoming more
conceited, I had of late become more humble; but this humility was, by
my suspicious master, attributed to artifice, and tended more than any
thing to confirm him in his notion that I had formed a plan to supplant
him in his office of lecturer, a scheme which had never entered into
my head. I was thunderstruck when he one day said to me, ‘You need not
study so hard, Mr. Jervas; for I promise you that, even with Mr. Y----‘s
assistance, and all your _art_, you will not be able to supplant me,
clever as, with all affected humility, you think yourself.’

“The truth lightened upon me at once. Had he been a judge of the human
countenance, he must have seen my innocence in my looks: but he was so
fixed in his opinion, that I knew any protestations I could make of my
never having thought of the scheme he imputed to me, would serve only
to confirm him in his idea of my dissimulation. I contented myself
with returning to him his books and his manuscripts, and thenceforward
withdrew my attention from his lectures, to which I had always till now
been one of the most eager auditors; by these proceedings I hoped to
quiet his suspicions. I no longer applied myself to any studies in which
he was engaged, to show him that all competition with him was far from
my thoughts; and I have since reflected that this fit of jealousy of
his, which I at the time looked upon as a misfortune, because it stopped
me short in pursuits which were highly agreeable to my taste, was in
fact of essential service to me. My reading had been too general; and I
had endeavoured to master so many things, that I was not likely to make
myself thoroughly skilled in any. As a blacksmith said once to me, when
he was asked why he was not both blacksmith and whitesmith, ‘The smith
that will meddle with all things may go shoe the goslings;’ an old
proverb, which, from its mixture of drollery and good sense, became ever
after a favourite of mine.

“Having returned my master’s books, I had only such to read as I could
purchase or borrow for myself, and I became very careful in my choice:
I also took every opportunity of learning all I could from the
conversation of sensible people, wherever we went; and I found that one
piece of knowledge helped me to another often when I least expected it.
And this I may add, for the encouragement of others, that every thing
which I learned accurately was, at some time or other of my life, of use
to me.

“After having made a progress through England, my fellow-traveller
determined to try his fortune in the metropolis, and to give lectures
there to young people during the winter season. Accordingly, we
proceeded towards London, taking Woolwich in our way, where we exhibited
before the young gentlemen of the military academy. My master, who,
since he had withdrawn his notes from my hands, had no one to copy them
fairly, found himself, during his lecture, in some perplexity; and, as
he exhibited his usual odd contortions upon this occasion, the young
gentlemen could not restrain their laughter: he also prolonged his
lecture more than his audience liked, and several yawned terribly, and
made signs of an impatient desire to see what was in my box, as a
relief from their fatigue. This my master quickly perceived, and,
being extremely provoked, he spoke to me with a degree of harshness
and insolence which, as I bore it with temper, prepossessed the young
company in my favour. He concluded his lecture with the old sentence:
‘Gentlemen, I shall no longer detain you from what I am sure is much
better worthy of your attention than any thing I can offer, viz.
Mr. Jervas’s puppet-show.’ This was an unlucky speech on the present
occasion, for it happened that every body, after having seen what he
called my puppet-show, was precisely of this opinion. My master grew
more and more impatient, and wanted to hurry me away, but one spirited
young man most warmly took me and my tin-mine under his protection: I
stood my ground, insisting upon my right to finish my exhibition, as my
master had been allowed full time to finish his. The young gentleman who
supported me was as well pleased by my present firmness as he had been
by my former patience. At parting he made a handsome collection for me,
which I refused to accept, taking only the regular price. ‘Well,’ said
he, ‘you shall be no loser by this. You are going to town; my father is
in London; here is his direction. I’ll mention you to him the next time
I write home, and you’ll not be the worse for that.’

“As soon as we got to London, I went according to my direction. The
young gentleman had been more punctual in writing home than young
gentlemen sometimes are. I was appointed to come with my models the
next evening, when a number of young people were collected, beside the
children of the family. The young spectators gathered round me at
one end of a large saloon, asking me innumerable questions after the
exhibition was over; whilst the master of the house, who was an East
India director, was walking up and down the room, conversing with
a gentleman in an officer’s uniform. They were, as I afterwards
understood, talking about the casting of some guns at Woolwich for the
East India Company. ‘Charles,’ said the director, coming to the place
where we were standing, and tapping one of his sons on the shoulder,
‘do you recollect what your brother told us about the proportion of tin
which is used in casting brass cannon at Woolwich?’ The young gentleman
answered that he could not recollect, but referred his father to me;
adding, that his brother told him I was the person from whom he had the
information. My memory served me exactly; and I had reason to rejoice
that I had not neglected the opportunity of gaining this knowledge,
during our short stay at Woolwich. The East India director, pleased with
my answering his first question accurately, condescended, in compliance
with his children’s entreaties, to examine my models, and questioned me
upon a variety of subjects: at length he observed to the gentleman with
whom he had been conversing, that I explained myself well, that I knew
all I did know accurately, and that I had the art of captivating the
attention of young people. ‘I do think,’ concluded he, ‘that he would
answer Dr. Bell’s description better than any person I have seen.’ He
then inquired particularly into my history and connexions, all of which
I told him exactly. He took down the direction to Mr. Y----, and my
good master (as I shall always call Mr. R----), and to several other
gentlemen, at whose houses I had been during the last three or four
years, telling me that he would write to them about me; and that if he
found my accounts of myself were as exact as my knowledge upon other
subjects, he thought he could place me in a very eligible situation. The
answers to these letters were all perfectly satisfactory: he gave me the
letter from Mr. R----, saying ‘you had better keep this letter, and take
care of it; for it will be a recommendation to you in any part of the
world where courage and fidelity are held in esteem.’ Upon looking into
this letter, I found that my good master had related, in the handsomest
manner, the whole of my conduct about the discovery of the vein in his
mine.

“The director now informed me that, if I had no objection to go to
India, I should be appointed to go out to Madras as an assistant to Dr.
Bell, one of the directors of the asylum for the instruction of orphans;
an establishment which is immediately under the auspices of the East
India Company, and which does them honour {Footnote: _Vide_ a small
pamphlet, printed for Cadell and Davies, entitled, “An Experiment
in Education, made at the Male Asylum of Madras, by the Rev. Dr. A.
Bell.”}.

“The salary which was offered me was munificent beyond my utmost
expectations; and the account of the institution, which was put into my
hands, charmed me. I speedily settled all my concerns with the lecturer,
who was in great astonishment that this appointment had not fallen upon
him. To console him for the last time, I showed him a passage in Dr.
Bell’s pamphlet, in which it is said that the doctor prefers to all
others, for teaching at his school, youths who have no fixed habits as
tutors, and who will implicitly follow his directions. I was at this
time but nineteen: my master was somewhat appeased by this view of the
affair, and we parted, as I wished, upon civil terms; though I could not
feel much regret at leaving him. I had no pleasure in living with one
who would not let me become attached to him; for, having early met with
two excellent friends and masters, the agreeable feelings of gratitude
and affection were in a manner necessary to my happiness.

“Before I left England, I received new proofs of Mr. R----‘s goodness:
he wrote to me to say that, as I was going to a distant country,
to which a small annuity of ten guineas a year could not easily be
remitted, he had determined to lay out a sum equal to the value of
the annuity he had promised me, in a manner which he hoped would be
advantageous: he further said, that as the vein of the mine with which I
had made him acquainted turned out better than he expected, he had added
the value of fifty guineas more than my annuity; and that if I would go
to Mr. Ramsden’s, mathematical instrument maker, in Piccadilly, I should
receive all he had ordered to be ready for me. At Mr. Ramsden’s I found
ready to be packed up for me two small globes, siphons, prisms, an
air-gun and an air-pump, a speaking trumpet, a small apparatus for
showing the gases, and an apparatus for freezing water. Mr. Ramsden
informed me that these were not all the things Mr. R---- had bespoken;
that he had ordered a small balloon, and a portable telegraph, in form
of an umbrella, which would be sent home, as he expected, in the course
of the next week. Mr. Ramsden also had directions to furnish me with a
set of mathematical instruments of his own making. ‘But,’ added he
with a smile, ‘you will be lucky if you get them soon enough out of my
hands.’ In fact, I believe I called a hundred times in the course of a
fortnight upon Ramsden, and it was only the day before the fleet sailed
that they were finished and delivered to me.

“I cannot here omit to mention an incident that happened in one of my
walks to Ramsden’s: I was rather late, and was pushing my way hastily
through a crowd that was gathered at the turning of a street, when a
hawker by accident flapped a bundle of wet hand-bills in my eyes, and
at the same instant screamed in my ears, ‘_The last dying speech and
confession of Jonathan Clarke, who was executed on Monday, the 11th
instant._’--Jonathan Clarke! The name struck my ears suddenly, and the
words I shocked me so much that I stood fixed to the spot; and it was I
not till the hawker had passed by me some yards, and was beginning with
‘_The last dying speech and confession of Jonathan Clarke, the Cornwall
miner_,’ that I recollected myself enough to speak: I called after the
hawker in vain: he was bawling too loud to hear me, and I was forced to
run the whole length of the street before I could overtake him, and get
one of the hand-bills. On reading it, I could have no doubt that it
was really the last dying speech of my old enemy Clarke. His birth,
parentage, and every circumstance, convinced me of the truth. Amongst
other things in his confession, I came to a plan he had laid to murder a
poor lad in the tin-mine, where he formerly worked; ‘and he thanked God
that this plan was never executed, as the boy providentially disappeared
the very night on which the murder was to have been perpetrated. He
further set forth that, after being turned away by his master, and
obliged to fly from Cornwall, he came up to London, and worked as
a coal-heaver for a little while, but soon became what is called a
_mud-lark_; that is, a plunderer of the ships’ cargoes that unload in
the Thames. He plied this abominable trade for some time, drinking every
day to the value of what he stole, till, in a quarrel at an ale-house
about the division of some articles to be sold to a receiver of stolen
goods, he struck the woman of the house a blow, of which she died; and,
as it was proved that he had long-borne her malice for some old
dispute, Clarke was on his trial brought in guilty of wilful murder, and
sentenced to be hanged.

“I shuddered whilst I read all this.--To such an end, after the utmost
his cunning could do, was this villain brought at last! How thankful
I was that I did not continue his associate in my boyish days! My
gratitude to my good master increased upon the reflection that it was
his humanity which had raised me from vice and misery, to virtue and
happiness. We sailed from the Downs the 20th of March, one thousand
seven hundred and.... But why I tell you this I do not know; except it
be in compliance with the custom of all voyagers, who think that it is
important to the world to know on what day they sailed from this or that
port. I shall not, however, imitate them in giving you a journal of
the wind, or a copy of the ship’s log-book. Suffice it to say, that we
arrived safely at Madras, after a voyage of about the usual number of
months and days, during all which I am sorry that I have not for your
entertainment any escape or imminent danger of shipwreck to relate; nor
even any description of a storm or a water-spout.

“You will, I am afraid, be much disappointed to find that, upon my
arrival in India, where doubtless you expected that I should like others
have wonderful adventures, I began to live at Dr. Bell’s asylum in
Madras a quiet regular life; in which for years I may safely say, that
every day in the week was extremely like that which preceded it. This
regularity was nowise irksome to me, notwithstanding that I had for
some years, in England, been so much used to a roving way of life. I had
never any taste for rambling; and under Dr. Bell, who treated me with
strict justice, as far as the business of the asylum was concerned, and
with distinguished kindness in all other circumstances, I enjoyed as
much freedom as I desired. I never had those absurd vague notions of
liberty, which render men uneasy under the necessary restraints of all
civilized society, and which do not make them the more fit to live
with savages. The young people who were under my care gradually became
attached to me, and I to them. I obeyed Dr. Bell’s directions exactly
in all things; and he was pleased to say, after I had been with him for
some time, that he never had any assistant who was so entirely agreeable
to him. When the business of the day was over, I often amused myself,
and the elder boys, with my apparatus for preparing the gases, my
speaking-trumpet, air-gun, &c.

“One day, I think it was in the fourth year of my residence at Madras,
Dr. Bell sent for me into his closet, and asked me if I had ever heard
of a scholar of his, of the name of William Smith, a youth of seventeen
years of age; who, in the year 1794, attended the embassy to Tippoo
Sultan, when the hostage princes were restored; and who went through
a course of experiments in natural philosophy, in the presence of the
sultan. I answered Dr. Bell that, before I left England, I had read, in
his account of the asylum, extracts from this William Smith’s letters,
whilst he was at the sultan’s court; and that I remembered all the
experiments he had exhibited perfectly well; and also that he was
detained, by the sultan’s order, nineteen days after the embassy had
taken leave, for the purpose of instructing two aruzbegs, or lords, in
the use of an extensive and elegant mathematical apparatus, presented
to Tippoo by the government at Madras.

{Footnote: _Extracts from William Smith’s Letters to Dr. Bell, (vide the
Pamphlet before mentioned.)_

‘Devanelli Fort, April 8, 1792.

‘REVEREND SIR,

‘I take the liberty of informing you that we arrived here the 28th ult.
without any particular occurrence in the way. The day after our arrival
we made our first visit to the sultan; and he entertained us at his
court for upwards of three hours.

‘On the 1st instant Captain Dovetoun sent me an order to open the boxes,
and lay out the machines, to show them to the sultan. Accordingly, on
the third, I was sent for, and I exhibited the following experiments;
viz. head and wig; dancing images; electric stool; cotton fired; small
receiver and stand; hemispheres; Archimedes’ screw; siphon; Tantalus’s
cup; water-pump; condensing engine, &c. Captain Dovetoun was present,
and explained, as I went on, to the sultan, who has given us an instance
of his being acquainted with some of these experiments. He has shown
us a condensing engine made by himself, which spouted water higher than
ours. He desired me to teach two men, his aruzbegs.

       *       *       *       *       *

‘I can assure you that Tippoo Sultan was mightily pleased with the
electric machine. He was prepared for every experiment I exhibited,
except the firing of the inflammable air.

       *       *       *       *       *

‘It did cost me several minutes before the firing of the inflammable air
proved successful; during which time he was in a very impatient emotion;
and, when that was done, it did indeed surprise him. He desired me to go
over it three times.

‘I take the liberty to write for your information the familiar discourse
Tippoo Sultan was pleased to enter into with me, that took place at the
close of the experiments.

‘There were some silver trumpets, newly made, brought in to him for
his inspection, and which he desired the trumpeters to sound _hauw_ and
_jauw_; i.e. come and go; after which, he asked me if they were like
those I saw at Madras. I answered, Yes; but those at Madras are made of
copper. He asked me again whether the tune was any thing like what I had
ever heard. I answered, No. How then? says he; and presently ordering
the instrument to be put into my hands, desired me to blow. I told him,
very civilly, that I could not blow. No! says he: you could; what are
you afraid of? I told him again that I spoke truth; and that I was
brought up in a school where my master informed me what lying was, and
always punished those boys that spoke untruths.

       *       *       *       *       *

‘June 11th. After this the sultan arose (five hours being elapsed) to
quit the court, and desired the present (of a hundred rupees) to be
delivered into my hands, with these words: “This is given you as a
present for the trouble you took in performing those experiments, which
verily pleased me;” and a command that I am to stay in the fort ten
days; “after which,” he continued, “I will send you to Kistnagherry,
with two hircarrahs, in order to conduct you safely through my country.”
 I returned the compliment with a salam, in the manner I was instructed;
saying that I thankfully accepted his present, and am willing to obey
his commands. The language which the sultan used was the Carnatic
Malabar. Mine very little differed from his. Poornbia was the
interpreter of such terms as the sultan did not understand.’}

“Well,’ said Dr. Bell, ‘since that time Tippoo Sultan has been at war,
and has had no leisure, I suppose, for the study of philosophy, or
mathematics; but now that he has just made peace, and wants something
to amuse him, he has sent to the government at Madras, to request that
I will permit some of my scholars to pay a second visit at his court to
refresh the memory of the aruzbegs, and, I presume, to exhibit some new
wonders for Tippoo’s entertainment.’

“Dr. B. proposed to me to go on this embassy: accordingly, I prepared
all my apparatus, and, having carefully remarked what experiments Tippoo
had already seen, I selected such as would be new to him. I packed up
my speaking-trumpet, my apparatus for freezing water, and that for
exhibiting the gases, my balloon and telegraph, and with these and my
model of the tin-mine, which I took by Dr. Bell’s advice, I set out
with two of his eldest scholars upon our expedition. We were met on the
entrance of Tippoo’s dominions by four hircarrahs or soldiers, whom the
sultan sent as a guard to conduct us safely through his dominions. He
received us at court the day after our arrival. Unaccustomed as I was to
Asiatic magnificence, I confess that my eyes were at first so dazzled by
the display of oriental pomp that, as I prostrated myself at the foot
of the sultan’s throne, I considered him as a personage high as human
veneration could look upon. After having made my salam, or salutation,
according to the custom of his court, as I was instructed to do, the
sultan commanded me, by his interpreter, to display my knowledge of the
arts and sciences, for the instruction and amusement of his court.

“My boxes and machines had all been previously opened, and laid out:
I was prepared to show my apparatus for freezing, but Tippoo’s eye was
fixed upon the painted silk balloon; and with prodigious eagerness he
interrupted me several times with questions about that great empty
bag. I endeavoured to make him understand as well as I could, by my
interpreter and his own, that this great empty bag was to be filled with
a species of air lighter than the common air; and that, when filled,
the bag which I informed him was in our country called a balloon, would
mount far above his palace. No sooner was this repeated to him, by
the interpreter, than the sultan commanded me _instantly_ to fill the
balloon; and when I replied that it could not be done instantly, and
that I was not prepared to exhibit it on this day, Tippoo gave signs of
the most childish impatience. He signified to me, that since I could not
show him what he wanted to see, the sultan would not see what I wanted
to show. I replied, through his interpreter, in the most respectful but
firm manner, that no one would be so presumptuous as to show to Tippoo
Sultan, in his own court, any thing which he did not desire to see:
that it was in compliance with his wishes that I came to his court, from
which, in obedience to his commands, I should at any time be ready
to withdraw. A youth, who stood at the right hand of Tippoo’s throne,
seemed much to approve of this answer, and the sultan, assuming a more
composed and dignified aspect, signified to me that he was satisfied to
await for the sight of the filling of the great bag till the next day;
and that he should, in the mean time, be well pleased to see what I was
now prepared to show.

“The apparatus for freezing, which we then exhibited, seemed to please
him; but I observed that he was, during a great part of the time whilst
I was explaining it, intent upon something else; and no sooner had I
done speaking than he caused to be produced the condensing engines, made
by himself, which he formerly showed to William Smith, and which he said
spouted water higher than any of ours. The sultan, I perceived, was much
more intent upon displaying his small stock of mechanical knowledge than
upon increasing it; and the mixture of vanity and ignorance, which he
displayed upon this and many subsequent occasions, considerably lessened
the awe which his external magnificence at first excited in my mind.
Sometimes he would put himself in competition with me, to show his
courtiers his superiority; but failing in these attempts, he would then
treat me as a species of mechanic juggler, who was fit only to exhibit
for the amusement of his court. When he saw my speaking-trumpet, which
was made of copper, he at first looked at it with great scorn, and
ordered his trumpeters to show me theirs, which were made of silver. As
he had formerly done when my predecessor was at his court, he desired
his trumpeters to sound through these trumpets the words _hauw_ and
_jauw_, i.e. come and go: but, upon trial, mine was found to be far
superior to the sultan’s: and I received intimation, through one of his
courtiers, that it would be prudent to offer it immediately to Tippoo.
This I accordingly did, and he accepted it with the eagerness of a child
who has begged and obtained a new play-thing.”




CHAPTER IV.


“The next day, Tippoo and his whole court assembled to see my balloon.
Tippoo was seated in a splendid pavilion, and his principal courtiers
stood in a semicircle on each side of him: the youth, whom I formerly
observed, was again on his right hand, and his eyes were immovably fixed
upon my balloon, which had been previously filled and fastened down by
cords. I had the curiosity to ask who this youth was: I was informed he
was the sultan’s eldest son, Prince Abdul Calie. I had not time to make
any farther inquiries, for Tippoo now ordered a signal to be given, as
had been previously agreed upon. I instantly cut the cords which held
the balloon, and it ascended with a rapid but graceful motion, to the
unspeakable astonishment and delight of all the spectators. Some clapped
their hands and shouted, others looked up in speechless ecstasy, and
in the general emotion all ranks for an instant were confounded: even
Tippoo Sultan seemed at this interval to be forgotten, and to forget
himself, in the admiration of this new wonder.

“As soon as the balloon was out of sight, the court returned to their
usual places, the noise subsided, and the sultan, as if desirous to
fix the public attention upon himself, and to show his own superior
magnificence, issued orders immediately to his treasurer to present me,
as a token of his royal approbation, with two hundred star pagodas.
When I approached to make my salam and compliment of thanks, as I was
instructed, the sultan, who observed that some of the courtiers already
began to regard me with envy, as if my reward had been too great,
determined to divert himself with their spleen, and to astonish me
with his generosity: he took from his finger a diamond ring, which he
presented to me by one of his officers. The young prince, Abdul Calie,
whispered to his father whilst I was withdrawing, and I soon afterwards
received a message from the sultan, requesting, or, in other words,
ordering me to remain some time at his court, to instruct the young
prince, his son, in the use of my European machines, for which they had
in their language no names.

“This command proved a source of real pleasure to me; for I found
Prince Abdul Calie not only a youth of quick apprehension, but of a most
amiable disposition, unlike the imperious and capricious temper which
I had remarked in his father. Prince Abdul Calie had been, when he
was about twelve years old, one of the hostage princes left with Lord
Cornwallis at Seringapatam. With that politeness which is seldom to
be found in the sons of eastern despots, this prince, after my first
introduction, ordered the magnificent palanquin, given to him by Lord
Cornwallis, to be shown to me; then pointing to the enamelled snakes
which support the panels, and on which the sun at that instant happened
to shine, Prince Abdul Calie was pleased to say, ‘The remembrance of
your noble countryman’s kindness to me is as fresh and lively in my soul
as those colours now appear to my eye.’

“Another thing gave me a good opinion of this young prince; he did not
seem to value presents merely by their costliness; whether he gave or
received, he considered the feelings of others; and I know that he often
excited in my mind more gratitude by the gift of a mere trifle, by a
word or a look, than his ostentatious father could by the most valuable
donations. Tippoo, though he ordered his treasurer to pay me fifty
rupees per day, whilst I was in his service, yet treated me with a
species of insolence; which, having some of the feelings of a free-born
Briton about me, I found it difficult to endure with patience. His
son, on the contrary, showed that he felt obliged to me for the little
instruction I was able to give him; and never appeared to think that, as
a prince, he could pay for all the kindness, as well as the service
of his inferiors, by pagodas or rupees: so true it is that attachment
cannot be bought; and those who wish to have friends, as well as
servants, should keep this truth constantly in mind. My English spirit
of independence induced me to make these and many more such reflections
whilst I was at Tippoo’s court.

“Every day afforded me fresh occasion to form comparisons between the
sultan and his son; and my attachment to my pupil every day increased.
My pupil! It was with astonishment I sometimes reflected that a young
prince was actually my pupil. Thus an obscure individual, in a country
like England, where arts, sciences, and literature are open to all
ranks, may obtain a degree of knowledge which an eastern despot, in all
his pride, would gladly purchase with ingots of his purest gold.

“One evening, after the business of the day was over, Tippoo Sultan came
into his son’s apartment, whilst I was explaining to the young prince
the use of some of the mathematical instruments in my pocket-case. ‘We
are well acquainted with these things,’ said the sultan in a haughty
tone: ‘the government of Madras sent us such things as those, with
others, which are now in the possession of some of my aruzbegs, who
have doubtless explained them sufficiently to the prince my son.’ Prince
Abdul Calie modestly replied, ‘that he had never before been made to
understand them; for that the aruzbeg, who had formerly attempted to
explain them, had not the art of making things so clear to him as I had
done.’

“I felt a glow of pleasure at this compliment, and at the consciousness
that I deserved it. How little did I imagine, when I used to sit up at
nights studying my old master’s books, that one of them would be the
means of procuring me such honour. {Footnote: Jervas here alludes to a
book entitled, “A Description of Pocket and Magazine Cases of Drawing
Instruments: in which is explained the use of each instrument, and
particularly of the sector and plain scale, Gunter’s scale, &c. By J.
Barrow, private teacher of mathematics.”}

“‘What is contained in that box?’ said the sultan, pointing to the box
which held the model of the tin-mine. ‘I do not remember to have seen it
opened in my presence.’

“I replied that it had not been opened, because I feared that it was not
worthy to be shown to him. But he commanded that it should instantly
be exhibited; and, to my great surprise, it seemed to delight him
excessively: he examined every part, moved the wires of the puppets,
and asked innumerable questions concerning our tin-mines. I was the
more astonished at this, because I had imagined he would have considered
every object of commerce as beneath the notice of a sultan. Nor could
I guess why he should be peculiarly interested in this subject: but
he soon explained this to me, by saying that he had, in his dominions,
certain mines of tin, which he had a notion would, if properly managed,
bring a considerable revenue to the royal treasury; but that at present,
through negligence or fraud, these mines were rather burdensome than
profitable.

“He inquired from me how my model came into my possession; and, when his
interpreter told him that I made it myself, he caused the question and
answer to be repeated twice, before he would believe that he understood
me rightly. He next inquired whether I was acquainted with the art of
mining; and how I came by my information: in short, he commanded me to
relate my history. I replied that it was a long story, concerning only
an obscure individual, and unworthy the attention of a great monarch:
but he seemed this evening to have nothing to do but to gratify his
curiosity, which my apology only served to increase. He again commanded
me to relate my adventures, and I then told him the history of my early
life. I was much flattered by the interest which the young prince
took in my escape from the mine, and by the praises he bestowed on my
fidelity to my master.

“The sultan, on the contrary, heard me at first with curiosity, but
afterwards with an air of incredulity. Upon observing this, I produced
the letter from my good master to the East India director, which gave
a full account of the whole affair. I put this letter into the hands
of the interpreter, and with some difficulty he translated it into the
Carnatic Malabar, which was the language the sultan used in speaking to
me.

“The letter, which had the counter-signatures of some of the East India
Company’s servants resident at Madras, whose names were well known to
Tippoo, failed not to make a great impression in favour of my integrity:
of my knowledge he had before a high opinion. He stood musing for some
time, with his eyes fixed upon the model of the tin-mine; and, after
consulting with the young prince, as I guessed by their tones and looks,
he bade his interpreter tell me that, if I would undertake to visit the
tin-mines in his dominions, to instruct his miners how to work them,
and to manage the ore according to the English fashion, I should receive
from the royal treasury a reward more than proportioned to my services,
and suitable to the generosity of a sultan.

“Some days were given me to consider of this proposal. Though tempted by
the idea that I might realize, in a short time, a sum that would make me
independent for the rest of my life, yet my suspicions of the capricious
and tyrannical temper of Tippoo made me dread to have him for a master;
and, above all, I resolved to do nothing without the express permission
of Dr. Bell, to whom I immediately wrote. He seemed, by his answer,
to think that such an opportunity of making my fortune was not to be
neglected: my hopes, therefore, prevailed over my fears, and I accepted
the proposal.

“The presents which he had made me, and the salary allowed me during six
weeks that I had attended the young prince, amounted to a considerable
sum; 500 star pagodas and 500 rupees: all which I left, together with
my ring, in the care of a great Gentoo merchant of the name of Omychund,
who had shown me many civilities. With proper guides, and full powers
from the sultan, I proceeded on my journey, and devoted myself with
the greatest ardour to my undertaking. A very laborious and difficult
undertaking it proved: for in no country are prejudices in favour of
their own customs more inveterate, amongst workmen of every description,
than in India; and although I was empowered to inflict what punishment
I thought proper on those who disobeyed, or even hesitated to fulfil my
orders, yet, thank God! I could never bring myself to have a poor slave
tortured, or put to death, because he roasted ore in a manner which I
did not think so good as my own method; nor even because he was not
so well convinced as I was of the advantages of our Cornwall
smelting-furnace.

“My moderation was of more service to me, in the minds of the people,
than the utmost violence I could have employed to enforce obedience. As
I got by degrees some little knowledge of their language, I grew more
and more acceptable to them; and some few, who tried methods of my
proposing, and found that they succeeded, were, by my directions,
rewarded with the entire possession of the difference of profit between
the old and new modes. This bounty enticed others; and in time that
change was accomplished by gentle means, which I had at first almost
despaired of ever effecting.

“When the works were in proper train, I despatched a messenger to the
sultan’s court, to request that he would be pleased to appoint some
confidential person to visit the mines, in order to be an eye-witness of
what had been done; and I further begged, as I had now accomplished the
object of the sultan’s wishes, that I might be recalled, after deputing
whomsoever he should think proper to superintend and manage the mines in
my stead. I moreover offered, before I withdrew, to instruct the person
who should be appointed. My messenger, after a long delay, returned to
me, with a command from Tippoo Sultan to remain where I was till his
further orders. For these I waited three months, and then, concluding
that I was forgotten, I determined to set out to refresh Tippoo’s
memory.

“I found him at Devanelli Fort, thinking of nothing less than of me or
my tin-mines: he was busily engaged in making preparations for a war
with some Soubha or other, whose name I forget, and all his ideas were
bent on conquests and vengeance. He scarcely deigned to see, much less
to listen to me: his treasurer gave me to understand that too much had
already been lavished upon me, a stranger as I was; and that Tippoo’s
resources, at all events, would be now employed in carrying on schemes
of war, not petty projects of commerce. Thus insulted, and denied all my
promised reward, I could not but reflect upon the hard fate of those who
attempt to serve capricious despots.

“I prepared as fast as possible to depart from Tippoo’s court. The
Hindoo merchant with whom I had lodged the pagodas and rupees promised
to transmit them to me at Madras; and he delivered to me the diamond
ring which Tippoo had given to me during his fit of generosity, or of
ostentation. The sultan, who cared no more what became of me, made no
opposition to my departure: but I was obliged to wait a day or two for
a guard, as the hircarrahs who formerly conducted me were now out upon
some expedition.

“Whilst I waited impatiently for their return, Prince Abdul Calie, who
had not been during all this time at Devanelli Fort, arrived; and when
I went to take leave of him, he inquired into the reason of my sudden
departure. In language as respectful as I could use, and with as much
delicacy as I thought myself bound to observe, in speaking to a son of
his father, I related the truth. The prince’s countenance showed what he
felt. He paused, and seemed to be lost in thought, for a few minutes: he
then said to me, ‘The sultan, my father, is at this time so intent upon
preparations for war, that even I should despair of being listened to on
any other subject. But you have in your possession, as I recollect, what
might be useful to him either in war or peace; and, if you desire it, I
will speak of this machine to the sultan.’

“I did not immediately know to what machine of mine the prince alluded;
but he explained to me that he meant my portable telegraph, which would
be of infinite use to Tippoo in conveying orders of intelligence across
the deserts. I left the matter entirely to the prince, after returning
him my very sincere thanks for being thus interested in my concerns.

“A few hours after this conversation, I was summoned into the sultan’s
presence. His impatience to make trial of the telegraphs was excessive;
and I, who but the day before had been almost trampled upon by the
officers and lords of his court, instantly became a person of the
greatest importance. The trial of the telegraphs succeeded beyond even
my expectations; and the sultan was in a species of ecstasy on the
occasion.

“I cannot omit to notice an instance of the violence of his temper, and
its sudden changes from joy to rage. One of his blacks, a gentle Hindoo
lad, of the name of Saheb, was set to manage a telegraph at one of
the stations, a few yards distant from the sultan. I had previously
instructed Saheb in what he was to do; but, from want of practice, he
made some mistake, which threw Tippoo into such a transport of passion,
that he instantly ordered the slave’s head to be cut off! a sentence
which would infallibly have been executed, if I had not represented that
it would be expedient to suffer his head to remain on his shoulders till
the message was delivered by his telegraph; because there was no one
present who could immediately supply his place. Saheb then read off his
message without making any new blunder; and the moment the exhibition
was over, I threw myself at the feet of the sultan, and implored him
to pardon Saheb. I was not likely at this moment to be refused such a
_trifle_! Saheb was pardoned.

“An order upon the treasurer for five hundred star pagodas, to reward my
services at the royal tin-mines, was given to me; and upon my presenting
to Tippoo Sultan the portable telegraphs, on which his ardent wishes
were fixed, he exclaimed: ‘Ask any favour in the wide-extended power of
Tippoo Sultan to confer, and it shall be granted.”

“I concluded that this was merely an oriental figure of speech; but I
resolved to run the hazard of a refusal. I did not ask for a province,
though this was in the wide-extended power of Tippoo Sultan to confer;
but as I had a great curiosity to see the diamond mines of Golconda, of
which both in Europe and in India I had heard so much, I requested the
sultan’s permission to visit those which belonged to him. He hesitated;
but after saying some words to an officer near him, he bade his
interpreter tell me that he granted my request.

“Accordingly, after lodging my pagodas and rupees along with the rest
in the hands of Omychund, the Gentoo merchant, who was a man of great
wealth and credit, I set out in company with some diamond merchants who
were going to Golconda. My curiosity was amply gratified by the sight
of these celebrated mines; and I determined that, when I returned to
Europe, I would write a description of them. This description, however,
I shall spare you for the present, and proceed with my story.

“The diamond merchants with whom I travelled had a great deal of
business to transact at various places; and this was the cause of much
delay to me, which I could scarcely bear with patience; for now that I
had gratified my curiosity, I was extremely desirous to return to Madras
with my little treasure. The five years’ salary due to me by the East
India Company, which I had never used, I had put out at interest at
Madras, where sometimes the rate was as high as twelve per cent.; and
if you knew (said Mr. Jervas, addressing himself to the miners at Mr.
R----‘s table) any thing of the nature of compound interest, you would
perceive that I was in a fair way to get rich: for, in the course of
fourteen or fifteen years, any sum that is put out at compound interest,
even in England, where the rate of legal interest is five per cent.,
becomes double; that is, one hundred pounds put out at compound
interest, in fourteen years, becomes two hundred. But few people have
the patience, or the prudence, to make this use of their money. I was,
however, determined to employ all my capital in this manner; and I
calculated that, in seven years, I should have accumulated a sum fully
sufficient to support me all the rest of my life in ease and affluence.

“Full of these hopes and calculations, I pursued my journey along with
the merchants. Arrived at Devanelli Fort, I learned that the Soubha,
with whom the sultan had been going to war, had given up the territory
in dispute, and had pacified Tippoo by submissions and presents. Whether
he chose peace or war was indifferent to me: I was intent on my private
affairs, and I went immediately to Omychund, my banker, to settle them.
I had taken my diamond ring with me to the mines, that I might compare
it with others, and learn its value; and I found that it was worth
nearly treble what I had been offered for it. Omychund congratulated me
upon this discovery, and we were just going to settle our accounts,
when an officer came in, and, after asking whether I was not the young
Englishman who had lately visited the mines of Golconda, summoned me
immediately to appear before the sultan. I was terrified, for I imagined
I was perhaps suspected of having purloined some of the diamonds; but I
followed the officer without hesitation, conscious of my innocence.

“Tippoo Sultan, contrary to my expectations, received me with a smiling
countenance; and, pointing to the officer who accompanied me, asked me
whether I recollected to have ever seen his face before? I replied, No:
but the sultan then informed me that this officer, who was one of his
own guards, had attended me in disguise during my whole visit to the
diamond mines; and that he was perfectly satisfied of my honourable
conduct. Then, after making a signal to the officer and all present to
withdraw, he bade me approach nearer to him; paid some compliments to my
abilities, and proceeded to explain to me that he stood in farther need
of my services; and that, if I served him with fidelity, I should have
no reason to complain, on my return to my own country, of his want of
generosity.

“All thoughts of war being now, as he told me, out of his mind, he had
leisure for other projects to enrich himself; and he was determined to
begin by reforming certain abuses, which had long tended to impoverish
the royal treasury. I was at a loss to know whither this preamble
would lead: at length, having exhausted his oriental pomp of words, he
concluded by informing me that he had reason to believe he was terribly
cheated in the management of his mines at Golconda; that they were
rented from him by a Feulinga Brahmin, as he called him, whose agreement
with the adventurers in the mines was, that all the stones they found
under a pago in weight were to be their own; and all above this weight
were to be his, for the sultan’s use. Now it seems that this agreement
was never honestly fulfilled by any of the parties: the slaves cheating
the merchants, the merchants cheating the Feulinga Brahmin, and he,
in his turn, defrauding the sultan; so that, Tippoo assured me, he had
often purchased, from diamond merchants, stones of a larger spread and
finer water than any he could get directly from his own mines; and
that he had been frequently obliged to reward these merchants with
rich vests, or fine horses, in order to encourage others to offer their
diamonds {Footnote: Philosophical Transactions, vol. ii. p.472.} for
sale.

“I could not but observe, whilst Tippoo related all this, the great
agitation of his looks and voice, which showed me the strong hold the
passion for diamonds had upon his soul; on which I should perhaps have
made some wise reflections, but that people have seldom leisure or
inclination to make wise reflections when standing in the presence of a
prince as powerful and as despotic as Tippoo Sultan.

“The service that he required from me was a very dangerous one; no
less than to visit the mines secretly by night, to search those small
cisterns in which the workmen leave the diamonds mixed with the sand,
gravelly stuff, and red earth, to sink and drain off during their
absence. I by no means relished this undertaking: besides that it would
expose me to imminent danger, it was odious to my feelings to become a
spy and an informer. This I stated to the sultan, but he gave no credit
to this motive; and, attributing my reluctance wholly to fear, he
promised that he would take effectual measures to secure my safety; and
that, after I had executed this commission, he would immediately send
a guard with me to Madras. I saw that a dark frown lowered on his brow,
when I persisted in declining this office; but I fortunately bethought
myself at this moment of a method of escaping the effects of his anger,
without giving up my own principles.

“I represented to him that the seizure of the diamonds in the cisterns,
which he proposed, even should it afford him any convincing proofs of
the dishonesty of the slaves and diamond merchants, and even if he
could in future take effectual precautions to secure himself from their
frauds, would not be a source of wealth to him equal to one which I
could propose. His avarice fixed his attention, and he eagerly
commanded me to proceed. I then explained to him that one of his richest
diamond-mines had been for some time abandoned; because the workmen,
having dug till they came to water, were then forced to stop for want of
engines such as are known in Europe. Now, having observed that there was
a rapid current at the foot of the mountain, on which I could erect a
water-mill, I offered to clear this valuable mine.”




CHAPTER V.


“The sultan was pleased with the proposal; but, recollecting how apt
he was to change his humour, and how ill he received me when I returned
from his tin-mines, I had the precaution to represent that, as this
undertaking would be attended with considerable expense, it would
be necessary that a year’s salary should be advanced to me before my
departure for Golconda; and that, if the payments were not in future
regularly made, I should be at liberty to resign my employment, and
return to Madras. Prince Abdul Calie was present when the sultan pledged
his word to this, and gave me full powers to employ certain of his
artificers and workmen.

“I shall not trouble you with a history of all my difficulties, delays,
and disappointments, in the execution of my undertaking; however
interesting they were to me, the relation would be tiresome to those
who have no diamond-mines to drain. It is enough for you to know that at
length my engines were set a-going properly, and did their business so
effectually, that the place was by degrees cleared of water, and the
workmen were able to open fresh and valuable veins. During all this
time, including a period of three years, my salary was regularly paid to
the Gentoo merchant, Omychund, in whose hands I left all my money,
upon his promising to pay me as high interest as what I could obtain
at Madras. I drew upon him only for such small sums as were absolutely
necessary; as I was resolved to live with the utmost economy, that I
might the sooner be enabled to return in affluence to my native country.

“And here I must pause to praise myself, or rather to rejoice from the
bottom of my soul, that I did not, when power was in my hands, make use
of it for the purposes of extortion. The condition of the poor slaves,
who were employed by me, was envied by all the others: and I have reason
to know that, even in the most debased and miserable state of existence,
the human heart can be wakened by kind treatment to feelings of
affection and gratitude. These slaves became so much attached to me
that, although the governor of the mines, and certain diamond merchants,
were lying in wait continually to get rid of me some way or other, they
never could effect their purposes. I was always apprised of my danger in
time by some of these trusty slaves; who, with astonishing sagacity and
fidelity, guarded me while I lived amongst them.

“A life of daily suspicion and danger was, however, terrible; and my
influence extended but a little way in making others happy. I might,
for a short season, lessen the suffering of these slaves; but still
they were slaves, and most of them were treated scarcely as if they were
human beings, by the rapacious adventurers for whom they laboured.

“These poor wretches generally work almost naked; they dare not wear a
coat, lest the governor should say they have thriven much, are rich, and
so increase his demands upon them. The wisest, when they find a great
stone, conceal it till they have an opportunity; and then, with wife and
children, run all away into the Visiapore country, where they are secure
and well used. {Footnote: Philosophical Transactions.}

“My heart sickened at the daily sight of so much misery; and nothing but
my hopes of finally prevailing on the sultan to better their condition,
by showing him how much he would be the gainer by it, could have induced
me to remain so long in this situation. Repeatedly Tippoo promised me
that the first diamond of twenty pagos weight which I should bring to
him, he would grant me all I asked in favour of the slaves under my
care. I imparted to them this promise, which excited them to great
exertions. At last we were fortunate enough to find a diamond above
the weight required. It was a well-spread stone, of a beautiful pale
rose-colour, and of an adamantine hardness. I am sure that the sight of
that famous stone, which is known by the name of the Pitt diamond, never
gave its possessor such heartfelt joy as I experienced when I beheld
this. I looked upon it as the pledge of future happiness, not only to
myself, but to hundreds of my fellow-creatures.

“I set out immediately for Tippoo Sultan’s court. It was too late in
the evening, when I arrived, to see the sultan that night; so I went
to Omychund, the Hindoo merchant, to settle my affairs with him. He
received me with open arms, saying that he had thriven much upon my
pagodas and rupees, and that he was ready to account with me for my
salary; also for the interest which he owed me; for all which he gave
me an order upon an English merchant at Madras, with whom I was well
acquainted.

“This being settled to my satisfaction, I told him the business which
now brought me to Tippoo’s court, and showed him my rose-coloured
diamond. His eyes opened at the sight with a prodigious expression of
avaricious eagerness. ‘Trust me,’ said he, ‘keep this diamond. I know
Tippoo better than you do; he will not grant those privileges to the
slaves that you talk about; and, after all, what concern are they of
yours? They are used to the life they lead. They are not Europeans. What
concern are they of yours? Once in your native country, you will dream
of them no more. You will think only of enjoying the wealth you shall
have brought from India. Trust me, keep the diamond. Fly this night
towards Madras. I have a slave who perfectly knows the road across
the country: you will be in no danger of pursuit, for the sultan will
suppose you to be still at Golconda. No one could inform him of the
truth but myself; and you must see, by the advice I now give you, that I
am your firm friend.’

“As he finished these words, he clapped his hands, to summon one of his
slaves, as he said, to give instant orders for my flight. He looked upon
me with incredulous surprise, when I coolly told him that the flight
which he proposed was far from my thoughts; and that it was my
determination to give the sultan the diamond that belonged to him.

“Seeing that I was in earnest, Omychund suddenly changed his
countenance; and in a tone of raillery, asked me whether I could believe
that his proposal was serious. Indeed I was left in doubt whether he
had been in earnest or not; and, at all events, I gave him to understand
that I was incapable of betraying him to the sultan.

“The next morning, as early as I could, I presented myself before the
sultan, who singled me from the crowd, and took me with him into the
apartment of Prince Abdul Calie.

“I proceeded cautiously: Tippoo was all impatience to hear news of his
diamond mine, and repeatedly interrupted me in my account of what had
been done there, by asking whether we had yet come to any diamonds? I
produced first one of a violet colour, which I had reserved as a present
for Prince Abdul Calie; it was a fine stone, but nothing equal to our
rose-coloured diamond. Tippoo admired this, however, so much, that I was
certain he would be in raptures with that which I had in store for him.
Before I showed it to him, in speaking of the weight of that which I had
designed to present to the prince, I reminded him of his royal promise
with respect to the slaves. ‘True,’ cried the sultan: ‘but is this
diamond twenty pagos weight? when you bring me one of that value,
you may depend upon having all you ask.’ I instantly produced the
rose-coloured diamond, weighed it in his presence, and, as the scale in
which it was put descended, Tippoo burst forth into an exclamation of
joy. I seized the favourable moment; he nodded as I knelt before him,
and bade me rise, saying my request was granted; though why I should ask
favours for a parcel of mean slaves, he observed, was incomprehensible.

“Prince Abdul Calie did not appear to be of this opinion; he at this
instant cast upon me a look full of benevolence; and whilst his father
was absorbed in the contemplation of his rose-coloured diamond, which he
weighed, I believe, a hundred times, the generous young prince presented
to me that violet-coloured diamond which I brought for him. A princely
gift made in a princely manner.

“Tippoo’s secretary made out for me the necessary order to the governor
of the mines, by which a certain share of the profits of his labour was,
by the sultan’s command, to belong to each slave; and all those who had
been employed in my service were, as a reward for their good conduct,
to be emancipated. A number of petty exactions were by this order
abolished; and the property acquired in land, dress, &c. by the slaves,
was secured to them. Most gladly did I see the sultan’s signet affixed
to this paper; and when it was delivered into my hands, my heart bounded
with joy. I resolved to be the bearer of these good tidings myself.
Although my passport was made out for Madras, and two hircarrahs, by the
sultan’s orders, were actually ready to attend me thither, yet I could
not refuse myself the pleasure of beholding the joy of the slaves, at
this change in their condition; and, to the latest hour of my life, I
shall rejoice that I returned to Golconda the messenger of happiness.
Never shall I forget the scene to which I was there a witness; never
will the expressions of joy and gratitude be effaced from my memory,
which lighted up the dark faces of these poor creatures! who, say what
we will, have as much sensibility, perhaps more, than we have ourselves.

“No sooner was I awake, the morning after my arrival, than I heard
them singing songs under my window, in which my own name was frequently
repeated. They received me with a shout of joy when I went out amongst
them; and, crowding round me, they pressed me to accept of some little
tokens of their gratitude and good-will, which I had not the heart to
refuse. The very children, by their caresses, seemed to beg me not to
reject these little offerings. I determined, if ever I reached Europe,
to give all of them to you, sir, my good master, as the best present I
could make to one of your way of thinking.

“The day after my arrival was spent in rejoicings. All the slaves, who
had worked under my inspection, had saved some little matters, with
which they had purchased for their wives and for themselves coloured
cottons, and handkerchiefs for their heads. Now that they were not in
dread of being robbed or persecuted by the governor of the mines, they
ventured to produce them in open day. These cottons of Malabar are dyed
of remarkably bright and gaudy colours; and, when the slaves appeared
decked in them, it was to me one of the gayest spectacles I ever beheld.
They were dancing with a degree of animation of which, till then, I
never had an idea.

“I stood under the shade of a large banyan tree, enjoying the sight;
when suddenly I felt from behind a blow on my head which stunned me. I
fell to the ground; and when I came to my senses, found myself in the
hands of four armed soldiers, and a Hindoo, who was pulling my diamond
ring from my finger. They were carrying me away amid the cries and
lamentations of the slaves, who followed us. ‘Stand off’! it is in vain
you shriek,’ said one of the soldiers to the surrounding crowd; ‘what we
do is by order of the sultan. Thus he punishes traitors.’

“Without further explanation, I was thrown into a dungeon belonging to
the governor of the mines, who stood by with insulting joy to see me
chained to a large stone in my horrid prison. I knew him to be my enemy:
but what was my astonishment when I recollected in the countenance of
the Hindoo, who was fastening my chains and loading me with curses,
that very Saheb, whose life I had formerly saved! To all my questions
no answer was given, but, ‘It is the will of the sultan;’ or, ‘Thus the
sultan avenges himself upon traitors.’

“The door of my dungeon was then locked and barred, and I was left alone
in perfect darkness. Is this, thought I, the reward of all my faithful
services? Bitterly did I regret that I was not in my native country,
where no man, at the will of a sultan, can be thrown into a dungeon,
without knowing his crime or his accusers. I cannot attempt to describe
to you what I felt, during this most miserable day of my existence.
Feeble at last, for want of food, I stretched myself out, as well as my
chains would allow me, and tried to compose myself to sleep. I sunk
into a state of insensibility, in which I must have remained for several
hours, for it was midnight when I was roused by the unbarring of my
prison door. It was Saheb who entered, carrying in one hand a torch, and
in the other some food, which he set before me in silence. I cast upon
him a look of scorn, and was about to reproach him with his ingratitude,
when he threw himself at my feet, and burst into tears. ‘Is it
possible,’ said he to me, ‘that you are not sure of the heart of Saheb?
You saved my life; I am come to save yours. But eat, master,’ continued
he; ‘eat whilst I speak, for we have no time to lose. To-morrow’s sun
must see us far from hence. You cannot support the fatigues you have to
undergo without taking food.’

“I yielded to his entreaties, and, whilst I ate, Saheb informed me that
my imprisonment was owing to the treacherous Hindoo merchant, Omychund;
who, in hopes, I suppose, of possessing himself in quiet of all the
wealth which I had intrusted to his care, went to the sultan, and
accused me of having secreted certain diamonds of great value, which
he pretended I had shown to him in confidence. Tippoo, enraged at this,
despatched immediate orders to four of his soldiers to go in search of
me, seize, imprison, and torture me, till I should confess where these
diamonds were concealed. Saheb was in the sultan’s apartment when this
order was given, and immediately hastened to Prince Abdul Calie, whom he
knew to be my friend, and informed him of what had happened. The prince
sent for Omychund, and, after carefully questioning him, was convinced,
by his contradictory answers, and by his confusion, that the charge
against me was wholly unfounded: he dismissed Omychund, however, without
letting him know his opinion, and then sent Saheb for the four soldiers
who were setting out in search of me. In their presence he gave Saheb
orders aloud to take charge of me the moment I should be found, and
secretly commissioned him to favour my escape. The soldiers thought that
in obeying the prince they obeyed the sultan; and, consequently, when
I was taken and lodged in my dungeon, the keys of it were delivered to
Saheb.

“When he had finished telling me all this, he restored to me my ring,
which he said he snatched from my finger, as soon as I was seized, that
I might not be robbed of it by the governor, or some of the soldiers.

“The grateful Saheb now struck off my chains; and my own anxiety for my
escape was scarcely equal to his. He had swift horses belonging to
the soldiers in readiness; and we pursued our course all night
without interruption. He was well acquainted with the country, having
accompanied the sultan on several expeditions. When we thought ourselves
beyond the reach of all pursuers, Saheb permitted me to rest; but I
never rested at my ease till I was out of Tippoo Sultan’s dominions, and
once more in safety at Madras. Dr. Bell received me with great kindness,
heard my story, and congratulated me on my escape from Tippoo’s power.

“I was now rich beyond my hopes; for I had Omychund’s order upon the
Madras merchant safe in my pocket, and the whole sum was punctually paid
to me. My ring I sold to the governor of Madras for more even than I
expected.

“I had the satisfaction to learn, before I left Madras, that Omychund’s
treachery was made known to the sultan, by means of Prince Abdul Calie,
whose memory will ever be dear to me. Tippoo, as I have been informed,
in speaking of me, was heard to regret that he could not recall to his
service such an honest Englishman.

“I was eager to reward the faithful Saheb, but he absolutely refused the
money which I offered him, saying, ‘that he would not be paid for saving
the life of one who had saved his.’ He expressed a great desire to
accompany me to my native country, from the moment that I told him we
had no slaves there; and that as soon as any slave touched the English
shore, by our laws, he obtained his freedom. He pressed me so earnestly
to take him along with me as my servant, that I could not refuse; so he
sailed with me for Europe. As the wind filled the sails of our vessel,
much did I rejoice that the gales which blew me from the shores of India
were not tainted with the curses of any of my fellow-creatures. Here
I am, thank Heaven! once more in free and happy England, with a good
fortune, clean hands, and a pure conscience, not unworthy to present
myself to my first good master, to him whose humanity and generosity
were the cause of--”

Here Mr. R---- interrupted his own praises, by saying to those of the
miners who had not fallen fast asleep, “My good friends, you now know
the meaning of the toast which you all drank after dinner; let us drink
it again before we part ‘Welcome home to our friend, Mr. Jervas, and may
good faith always meet with good fortune!’”

_October_, 1799.





THE WILL



CHAPTER I.


Mr. Pearson, a wealthy Lincolnshire farmer, who had always been esteemed
a prudent sensible man, though something of a _humourist_, made the
following will:

“I, John Pearson, of _The Wold_ in Lincolnshire, farmer, being of sound
mind and body, do make this my last will and testament, &c.

“I give and bequeath my farm of West Woldland to my eldest nephew,
Grimes Goodenough; my farm of Holland Fen to my dear nephew, John
Wright, and my farm of Clover-hill to my youngest nephew, Pierce Marvel.

“I farther will and desire that the sum of ten thousand pounds, which is
now in the hands of William Constantine, gentleman, my executor, may by
him, immediately after my decease, be put out to interest for ten years:
and I will and desire that, at the end of the said ten years, the said
sum of ten thousand pounds, and the interest so accumulated thereon, be
given to whichsoever of my aforesaid nephews shall at that time be the
richest.

“And I trust that the said William Constantine, gentleman, my executor
and very good friend, being a clear-headed honest man, will understand
and execute this my last will and testament, according to the plain
meaning of my words; though it should happen that this my will should
not be drawn up in due legal form, of which I know little or nothing.”

Mr. Constantine, the executor, being, as described, a clear-headed
honest man, found no difficulty either in understanding or executing
this trust: the ten thousand pounds were, immediately upon Pearson’s
decease, placed out upon interest; and the three nephews were put
into possession of their farms. These were of very different value.
Goodenough’s wanted improvement, but would pay richly for any that
should be judiciously made; Wright’s farm was by far the worst of the
three; and Marvel’s the best.

The Lincolnshire world was much divided in opinion concerning these
young men; and many bets were laid relating to the legacy. People judged
according to their own characters; the enterprising declared for Marvel,
the prudent for Wright, the timid for Goodenough.

The nephews had scarcely been in possession of their farms a week when,
one evening, as they were all supping together at Wright’s house, Marvel
suddenly turned to Goodenough, and exclaimed, “When do you begin your
improvements, cousin Goodenough?”

“Never, cousin Marvel.”

“Then you’ll never touch the ten thousand, my boy. What! will you
do nothing to your marsh? Nothing to your common? Nothing to your
plantations? Do not you mean ever to make any improvements?”

“I mean not to make any improvements.”

“Well, you’ll let me make some for you.”

“Not I.”

“No! Won’t you let me cut down some of those trees for you, that are
spoiling one another in your wood?”

“Not a tree shall be cut down. Not a stick shall be stirred. Not a
change shall be made, I say.”

“Not a change for the better, cousin Goodenough?” said Wright.

“Not a change can be for the better, to my mind; I shall plough, and
sow, and reap, as our forefathers did, and that’s enough for me.”

“What! will you not even try the new plough?” said Marvel.

“Not I; no new ploughs for me. No plough can be so good as the old one.”

“How do you know, as you never tried it, or would see it tried?” said
Wright: “I find it better than the old one.”

“No matter; the old one will do well enough for me, as it did for my
father before me.” After having repeated these words in precisely the
same tone several times, he went on slowly eating his supper, whilst
Marvel, in detestation of his obstinate stupidity, turned his back
upon him, and began to enumerate to Wright sundry of his own ingenious
projects.

“My dear Wright,” said he, “you are worth talking to, and you shall hear
all my schemes.”

“Willingly; but I do not promise to approve of them all.”

“Oh! you will, you will, the moment you hear them; and I will let you
have a share in some of them. In the first place, there’s that fine
rabbit-warren near Clover-hill. The true silver grey rabbits--_silver
sprigs_, they call them--do you know that the skins of those _silver
sprigs_ are worth any money?”

“Any money! what money?”

“Pooh! I don’t know exactly: but I mean to buy that warren.”

“Before you know what it is worth! Let us consider; each dozen of skins
is worth, say, from ten to fifteen shillings.”

“You need not trouble yourself to calculate now,” interrupted Marvel,
“for I have determined to have the warren. With the money that I shall
get for my silver sprigs, I will next year make a decoy, and supply the
London market with wild-fowl. Don’t you remember the day that we met
Simon Stubbs, the carrier, loaded with game and wild-fowl, he said that
a decoy in Lincolnshire must be a fortune to any man. I’ll have the best
decoy not only in Lincolnshire but in all England. By-the-bye, there’s
another thing I must do, Wright; I’ll exchange any part of Clover-hill
you please with you, for as much land in Holland Fen.”

“Take him at his word, cousin Wright,” said Goodenough.

“No, no,” replied Wright; “I know the value of land, and the difference
between Clover-hill and Holland Fen, better than he does: I would not
take him at his word, for that would be taking him in.”

“I would not take anybody in,” said Goodenough; “but if another man is
a fool, that’s no reason I should be one. Now, if a man offers me a
good bargain, why should not I close with him, and say--Done?” “Then say
done,” cried Marvel, “and you shall have the bargain, Goodenough.
You have an undrained marsh of your own: I’ll exchange with you, and
welcome, ten acres of the marsh for five of Clover-hill.”

“Done,” said Goodenough.

“Done. I shall stock it with geese, and you’ll see what the quills and
feathers alone will bring me in. I’ve engaged with one already to sell
them for me. But, Wright, here’s another scheme I have. Wildmore common,
you know, is covered with those huge thistles, which prick the noses of
the sheep so as to hinder them from feeding and fattening: I will take
that common into my own hands.”

“Ay,” said Goodenough; “exchange the rest of Clover-hill for it:--that’s
like you!”

“And I will mow the thistles,” pursued Marvel, without deigning to reply
to Goodenough. “I will mow the thistles; their down I can contrive to
work up into cotton, and the stalks into cordage: and, with the profit
I shall make of these thistles, and of my decoy, and of my goose-quills
and feathers, and of my silver sprig rabbits, I will buy jackets for my
sheep, for my sheep shall all have jackets after shearing. Why should
not Lincolnshire sheep, if they have jackets, become as valuable as
the Leicestershire breed? You’ll see my sheep will be the finest in the
whole county; and, with the profit I shall make of them, I will set up
a fishery in Fen-lake; and with the profits of the fishery--now comes my
grand scheme--I shall be the richest of you all! with the profits of the
fishery, and the decoy, and the sheep, and the silver sprigs, and the
quills and feathers, geese and thistles, I will purchase that fine
heronry, near Spalding.”

At these words, Goodenough laid down his knife and fork; and, sticking
his arms a-kimbo, laughed contemptuously, if not heartily.

“So, then, the end of all this turmoil is to purchase a heronry! Much
good may it do you, cousin Marvel. You understand your own affair best:
you will make great _improvements_, I grant, and no doubt will be the
richest of us all. The ten thousand pounds will be yours for certain:
for, as we all know, cousin Marvel, you are a genius!--But why a genius
should set his fancy upon a heronry, of all things in this mortal world,
is more than I can pretend to tell, being no genius myself.”

“Look here, Wright,” continued Marvel, still without vouchsafing
any direct reply to Goodenough: “here’s a description, in this last
newspaper, of the fine present that the grand seignior has made to his
majesty. The plume of herons’ feathers alone is estimated at a thousand
guineas! Think of what I shall make by my heronry! At the end of ten
years, I shall be so rich that it will hardly be worth my while,” said
Marvel, laughing, “to accept of my uncle’s legacy. I will give it to
you, Wright; for you are a generous fellow, and I am sure you will
deserve it.”

In return for this liberal promise, Wright endeavoured to convince
Marvel, that if he attempted such a variety of schemes at once, they
would probably all fail; and that to ensure success, it would be
necessary to calculate, and to make himself master of the business,
before he should undertake to conduct it. Marvel, however, was of too
sanguine and presumptuous a temper to listen to this sage advice: he was
piqued by the sneers of his cousin Goodenough, and determined to prove
the superiority of his own spirit and intellect. He plunged at once
into the midst of a business which he did not understand. He took a
rabbit-warren of two hundred and fifty acres into his hands; stocked ten
acres of marsh land with geese; and exchanged some of the best part of
Clover-hill for a share in a common covered with thistles. He planted a
considerable tract of land, with a degree of expedition that astonished
all the neighbourhood: but it was remarked that the fences were not
quite sufficient; especially as the young trees were in a dangerous
situation, being surrounded by land stocked with sheep and horned
cattle. Wright warned him of the danger; but he had no time this year,
he said, to complete the fences: the men who tended his sheep might
easily keep them from the plantation for this season, and the next
spring he purposed to dig such a ditch round the whole as should secure
it for ever. He was now extremely busy, making jackets for his sheep,
providing willows for his decoy, and gorse and corn for his geese: the
geese, of which he had a prodigious flock, were not yet turned into
their fen, because a new scheme had occurred to Marvel, relative to some
reeds with which a part of this fen was covered; on these reeds myriads
of starlings were accustomed to roost, who broke them down with their
weight. Now Marvel knew that such reeds would be valuable for thatching,
and with this view he determined to drive away the starlings; but the
measures necessary for this purpose would frighten his friends, the
geese, and therefore he was obliged to protect and feed them in his
farm-yard, at a considerable expense, whilst he was carrying on the war
with the starlings. He fired guns at them morning and evening, he sent
up rockets and kites with fiery tails, and at last he banished them; but
half his geese, in the mean time, died for want of food; and the women
and children, who plucked them, stole one quarter of the feathers, and
one half of the quills, whilst Marvel was absent letting up rockets in
the fen.

The rabbit-warren was, however, to make up for all other losses:
a furrier had engaged to take as many silver sprigs from him as he
pleased, at sixteen shillings a dozen, provided he should send them
properly dressed, and in time to be shipped for China, where these
silver grey rabbit skins sold to the best advantage. As winter came on,
it was necessary to supply the warren with winter food: and Marvel was
much astonished at the multitude of unforeseen expenses into which
his rabbits led him. The banks of the warren wanted repair, and the
warrener’s house was not habitable in bad weather: these appeared but
slight circumstances when Marvel made the purchase; but, alas! he had
reason to change his opinion in the course of a few months. The first
week in November, there was a heavy fall of snow; and the warren walls
should have been immediately cleared of snow, to have kept the rabbits
within their bounds: but Marvel happened this week to be on a visit in
Yorkshire, and he was _obliged_ to leave the care of the warren entirely
to the warrener, who was _obliged_ to quit his house during the snow,
and to take shelter with a neighbour: he neglected to clear the walls;
and Marvel upon his return home, found that his silver sprigs had
strayed into a neighbouring warren. The second week in November is the
time when the rabbits are usually killed, as the skins are then in full
prime: it was in vain that Marvel raised a hue and cry after his silver
sprigs; a fortnight passed away before one-third of them could be
recovered. The season was lost, and the furrier sued him for breach of
contract; and what was worse, Goodenough laughed at his misfortunes. The
next year he expected to retrieve his loss: he repaired the warrener’s
house, new faced the banks, and capped them with furze; but the common
grey rabbit had been introduced into the warren, by the stragglers of
the preceding year; and as these grey rabbits are of a much more hardy
race than the silver sprigs, they soon obtained and kept possession
of the land. Marvel now pronounced rabbits to be the most useless and
vexatious animals upon earth; and, in one quarter of an hour, thoroughly
convinced himself that tillage was far more profitable than rabbits.
He ploughed up his warren, and sowed it with corn; but, unluckily,
his attention had been so much taken up by the fishery, the decoy,
the geese, the thistles, and the hopes of the heronry, that he totally
forgot his intention of making the best of all possible ditches round
his plantation. When he went to visit this plantation, he beheld a
miserable spectacle: the rabbits which had strayed beyond their bounds
during the great snow, and those which had been hunted from their
burrows, when the warren was ploughed up, had all taken shelter in this
spot; and these refugees supported themselves, for some months, upon the
bark and roots of the finest young trees.

Marvel’s loss was great, but his mortification still greater; for his
cousin Goodenough laughed at him without mercy. Something must be done,
he saw, to retrieve his credit: ad the heronry was his resource.

“What will signify a few trees, more or less,” thought he, “or the loss
of a few silver sprigs, or the death of a few geese, or the waste of a
few quills and feathers? My sheep will sell well, my thistles will bring
me up again; and as soon as I have sold my sheep at Partney fair, and
manufactured my thistles, I will set out with my money in my pocket
for Spalding, and make my bargain for the heronry. A plume of herons’
feathers is worth a thousand guineas! My fortune will be made when I get
possession of the Spalding heronry.”

So intent was Marvel upon the thoughts of the Spalding heronry, that he
neglected every thing else. About a week before the fair of Partney,
he bethought himself of his sheep, which he had left to the care of a
shepherd boy: he now ordered the boy to drive them home, that he might
see them. Their jackets hung upon them like bags: the poor animals had
fallen away in the most deplorable manner. Marvel could scarcely believe
that these were his sheep; or that these were the sheep which he had
expected to be the pride of Lincolnshire, and which he had hoped would
set the fashion of jackets. Behold, they were dying of the rot!

“What an unfortunate man I am!” exclaimed Marvel, turning to his cousin
Wright, whom he had summoned along with Goodenough, in the pride of his
heart, to view, value, and admire his sheep. “All your sheep, Wright,
are fat and sound: mine were finer than yours when I bought them: how
comes it that I am so unlucky?”

“Jack of all trades, and master of none!” said Goodenough, with a sneer.

“You forgot, I am afraid, what I told you, when first you bought these
sheep,” said Wright, “that you should always keep them in fold, every
morning, till the dew was off: if you had done so, they would now be as
well and thriving as mine. Do not you remember my telling you that?”

“Yes; and I charged this boy always to keep them in fold till the dew
was off,” replied Marvel, turning with an angry countenance to the
shepherd boy.

“I never heard nothing of it till this minute, I am sure, master,” said
the boy.

Marvel now recollected that, at the very moment when he was going to
give this order to the boy, his attention had been drawn away by the
sight of a new decoy in the fields adjoining to his sheep pasture. In
his haste to examine the decoy, he forgot to give that order to his
shepherd, on which the safety of his fine flock of sheep depended.
{Footnote: A General View of the Agriculture of the County of Lincoln,
p. 330. “It well deserves noting that a shepherd, who, when young, was
shepherd’s boy to an old man, who lived at Netlam, near Lincoln, a place
famous for the rot, told Mr. Neve that he was persuaded sheep took the
rot only of a morning, before the dew was well off. At that time they
folded, being open field: his master’s shepherd kept his flock in fold
always till the dew was gone; and, with no other attention, his sheep
were kept sound, when all the neighbours lost their flocks.”} Such are
the negligences and blunders of those who endeavour to do half a dozen
things at once.

The failure of one undertaking never discouraged Marvel from beginning
another; and it is a pity, that, with so much spirit and activity, he
had so little steadiness and prudence. His sheep died, and he set out
for Spalding full of the thoughts of the heronry. Now this heronry
belonged to Sir Plantagenet Mowbray, an elderly gentleman, who was
almost distracted with family pride: he valued himself upon never having
parted with one inch of the landed property that had descended to him,
through a long line of ancestors, from the Plantagenets. He looked down
upon the whole race of farmers and traders as beings of a different
species from himself; and the indignation with which he heard, from a
Lincolnshire farmer, a proposal to purchase his heronry, may perhaps be
imagined, but cannot be described. It was in vain that Marvel rose in
his offers; it was in vain that he declared he was ready to give any
price that Sir Plantagenet would set upon the heronry. Sir Plantagenet
sent word, by his steward, that not a feather of his birds should be
touched; that he was astonished at the insolence of such a proposal; and
that he advised Marvel to keep out of the way of _his people_, lest they
should revenge the insult that had been offered to their master.

This haughty answer, and the disappointment of all his hopes and schemes
respecting the heronry, threw Marvel into a degree of rage scarcely
inferior to what was felt by Sir Plantagenet. As he was galloping down
the avenue from Plantagenet-hall, he overtook a young man, of a shabby
appearance, who was mounted upon a very fine horse. At first Marvel took
it for granted that he was one of Sir Plantagenet’s _people_, and he
was riding past him, when he heard the stranger say, in a friendly tone,
“Your horse gallops well, sir: but have a care; there’s a carrion a
little way farther on that may startle him.”

Marvel pulled in his horse; the stranger rode up beside him, and they
entered into conversation. “That carrion, sir,” said he, pointing to
the dead horse, which had just been shot for the baronet’s son’s hounds,
“that carrion, sir, was in my opinion the best horse Sir Plantagenet,
or his son either, were possessed of. ‘Tis a shame for any man, who
pretends to be a gentleman, and who talks this way and that so high of
his family, should be so stingy in the article of horseflesh.”

Marvel was not unwilling at this instant to hear the haughty baronet
blamed and ridiculed; and his companion exactly fell in with his humour,
by telling a variety of anecdotes to prove Sir Plantagenet to be every
thing that was odious and contemptible. The history of his insolence
about the heronry was now related by Marvel; and the stranger seemed to
sympathize so much in his feelings, that, from a stranger, he began to
consider him as a friend. Insensibly the conversation returned to the
point at which it commenced; and his new friend observed that it was
in vain to expect any thing good from any gentleman, or indeed from any
man, who was stingy in the article of horseflesh.

A new sense of honour and of shame began to rise in our hero’s mind;
and he sat uneasy in his saddle, whilst he reflected that the horse upon
which he was mounted, was perhaps as deservedly an object of contempt as
any of Sir Plantagenet’s stud. His new friend, without seeming to notice
his embarrassment, continued his conversation, and drew a tempting
picture of the pleasures and glories of a horse-race: he said, “he was
just training a horse for the York races, and a finer animal never was
crossed. Sir Plantagenet’s eldest son would have been the proudest and
happiest of men, if his father would but have bought the horse for him:
but he had refused, and the youth himself had not the price, or half the
price, at his command.”

Our hero was no judge of horses, but he was ambitious to prove that his
spirit was superior to that of the haughty baronet; and that something
good might be expected from him, as he was not stingy in horseflesh.
Besides, he was worked up to a high degree of curiosity to see the York
races; and his companion assured him that he could not appear there
without being well mounted. In short, the hour was not at an end before
he had offered a hundred guineas for the finest horse that ever
was crossed. He was charmed with the idea that he should meet Sir
Plantagenet Mowbray’s son and heir at the York races, and should
show him that he was able and willing to pay for the horse, which his
arrogant father could not afford to purchase.

From the anecdote of the heronry, his companion perceived that Marvel
was a man fond of projects; and he proposed to him a scheme, which
caught his fancy so much that it consoled him for his disappointment. It
was the fault of our enterprizing hero’s character always to think the
last scheme for making a fortune the best. As soon as he reached home he
was in haste to abandon some of his old projects, which now appeared to
him flat, stale, and unprofitable. About a score of his flock, though
tainted with the rot, were not yet dead; he was eager to sell them, but
no one would buy sheep of such a wretched appearance. At last Wright
took them off his hands. “I will throw the threescore jackets into
the bargain,” said Marvel; “for you are a generous fellow, to offer so
handsomely for my poor sheep, and you deserve to be treated as you treat
others. If I come in at the end of the ten years for the legacy, I shall
remember you, as I told you before: as to my cousin Goodenough here, he
thinks so much of himself, that there is no occasion for others to
think of him. I asked him to join me in a bond, yesterday, for a hundred
pounds, just to try him, and he refused me. When I come in for the
legacy, I will cut him off with a shilling,--I will give him fair
notice.”

“Cut me off with what you will,” said Goodenough, sullenly, “not a
farthing of my money shall ever be lent to one that has a project for
every day in the year. Get into what difficulties you may, I will never
join you in any bond, I promise you. It is enough for me to take care of
myself.”

“Don’t flatter yourself that I am getting into any difficulties,”
 replied Marvel. “I wanted the hundred guineas only to pay for a horse;
and the friend who sold him to me will wait my convenience.”

“The _friend_” said Wright; “do you mean that man who rode home with you
from Spalding?--I advise you not to make a friend of him, for he is a
notorious jockey.” “He will not take _me_ in, though,” said Marvel; “I
am as sharp as he is, and he sees that: so we understand one another
very well. To my certain knowledge, a hundred and twenty guineas could
be had to-morrow for the horse I bought from him; yet he let me have him
for a hundred.”

“And how can a man of your sense, cousin Marvel,” said Wright, “believe
that a person, who never saw you till within these three days, would be
so much your friend as to make you a present of twenty guineas?”

“A present!”

“Yes; if he lets you have a horse for a hundred, which you can sell for
a hundred and twenty, does not he make you a present of twenty guineas?”

“Well, but I can tell you the reason for all that: he wants me to enter
into a scheme with him, for breeding horses on the common here: and
so he would not, at first setting out, stand to higgle with me for the
price of a horse.”

“And would you for twenty guineas, cousin Marvel, run the hazard of
joining in any scheme with a man of his character? Pray inquire in the
country and in York, where you are going, what sort of a character this
man bears. Take my advice, pay him for his horse, and have nothing more
to do with him.”

“But I have not the ready cash to pay him for his horse, that’s one
thing,” said Marvel.

“Let that be no difficulty,” replied Wright; “for I have a hundred
guineas here, just brought home from Partney fair, and they are heartily
at your service.”

Goodenough twitched Wright’s elbow three times as he uttered these
words: but Wright finished his sentence, and put the money into Marvel’s
hands immediately upon his promising to pay for the horse, break off
all connexion with his friend the jockey, if he should find upon inquiry
that he was not a person of good character, and at all events to suspend
any treaty with him till after his return from York.

“Whilst you are gone,” said Wright, “I will make inquiries about the
profit of breeding of horses on the commons. I have an acquaintance, a
sensible old man, who has kept accounts of what he has done in that way
himself; and he will show us his accounts, from which we shall be able
to judge.”



CHAPTER II.


Wright heard nothing more of him for about a fortnight; he then received
the following letter:

“DEAR COUSIN WRIGHT,

“It is a very great pity that you could not be persuaded to come along
with me to York races, where I have seen more of life, and of the world,
in a week, than ever I did in all my life before.--York is a surprising
fine town; and has a handsome cathedral, and assembly-room: but I am not
in the humour, just now, to describe them: so I shall proceed to what is
much better worth thinking of.

“You must know, cousin Wright, that I am in love, and never was I so
happy or so miserable in my days. If I was not a farmer there would be
some hopes for me; but, to be sure, it is not to be expected that such
a lady as she is should think of a mere country booby; in which light,
indeed, she was pleased to say, as I heard from good authority, she did
not consider me; though my manners wanted polish. These were her own
words. I shall spare nothing to please her, if possible, and am not
wholly without hope, though I have a powerful rival; no less a person
than the eldest son and heir of Sir Plantagenet Mowbray, Bart. But
her virtue will never, I am persuaded, suffer her to listen to such
addresses as his. Now mine are honourable, and pure as her soul; the
purity of which no one could doubt, who had seen her last night, as I
did, in the character of the Fair Penitent. She was universally admired:
and another night sung and danced like an angel. But I can give you no
idea of her by pen and ink; so I beseech you to come and see her, and
give your advice to me candidly, for I have the highest opinion of your
judgment and good-nature.

“I find you were quite right about that scoundrel who rode with me from
Spalding! He has arrested me for a hundred guineas; and is, without
exception, the shabbiest dog I ever met with: but I am out of his
clutches, and have better friends. I will tell you the whole story when
we meet, and pay you your hundred with many thanks. Pray set out as
soon as you receive this, for every moment is an age to me: and I won’t
declare myself, more than I have done, if possible, till you come; for
I have a great opinion of your judgment; yet hope you won’t put on your
severe face, nor be prejudiced against her, because of her being on the
stage. Leave such illiberality to cousin Goodenough: it would be quite
beneath you! Pray bring with you that volume of old plays that is at the
top of my bed, under the bag of thistles; or in the basket of reeds that
I was making; or in the out-house, where I keep the goose-quills and
feathers. I don’t find my memory so clear, since my head is so full of
this charming Alicia Barton. Pray make no delay, as you value the peace
of mind of your

“Affectionate cousin and friend,

“PIERCE MARVEL.

“P. S. Mr. Barton, her brother, is the most generous of men, and the
cleverest. He is not averse to the match. Sir Plantagenet Mowbray’s son
and heir, who is as insolent as his father, may find that a Lincolnshire
farmer is not a person to be despised. I have thoughts of selling my
farm of Clover-hill, and of going into another way of life; for which,
as Mr. Barton said, and Alicia hinted, nay, as I am inclined to believe
too, I am much better suited than for farming. Of this more when we
meet. Pray set out as soon as you receive this. Alicia has dark eyes,
and yet a fair complexion. I am sure you will like her.”

Far from feeling sure that he should like Miss Alicia Barton, Wright was
so much alarmed for his cousin, on the perusal of this letter, that he
resolved to set out immediately for York, lest the sale of Clover-hill
should be concluded before his arrival. A new project and a new love
were, indeed, powerful temptations to one of Marvel’s character.

As Goodenough was plodding at his accustomed pace in his morning’s work,
he met Wright on horseback, who asked him if he had any commissions that
he could execute in York, whither he was going.

“None, thank Heaven!” said Goodenough. “So I see it is as I always knew
it would be! Marvel is ‘ticing you into his own ways, and will make you
just such another as _his_ self. Ay, you must go to York races! Well, so
much the better for me. Much pleasure to you at the races.”

“I am not going to the races; I am going to do Marvel a service.”

“Charity begins at home: that’s my maxim,” replied Goodenough.

“It is quite fitting that charity should _begin_ at home,” said Wright;
“but then it should not _end_ at home; for those that help nobody will
find none to help them in time of need.”

“Those that help nobody will not be so apt to come to need,” replied
Goodenough. “But yonder’s my men standing idle. If I but turn my head,
that’s the way of them. Good morrow to you, cousin Wright; I can’t stand
argufying here about charity, which won’t plough my ground, nor bring me
a jot nearer to the ten thousand pounds’ legacy: so good morrow to you.
My service to cousin Marvel.”

Goodenough proceeded to his men, who were in truth standing idle, as it
was their custom to do when their master’s eye was not, as they thought,
upon them; for he kept them so hard at work, when he was present, that
not a labouring man in the country would hire himself to Goodenough,
when he could get employment elsewhere. Goodenough’s partizans, however,
observed that he got his money’s worth out of every man he employed;
and that this was the way to grow rich. The question, said they, is not
which of the three nephews will be the best beloved, but which will
be the richest at the end of ten years; and, on this ground, who can
dispute that Goodenough’s maxim is the best, “Charity begins at home?”
 Wright’s friends looked rather alarmed when they heard of this journey
to York; and Marvel’s advocates, though they put a good face upon the
matter, heartily wished him safe home.

Upon Wright’s arrival in York, he found it no easy matter to discover
his cousin Marvel; for he had forgotten to date his letter, and no
direction was given to inn or lodging: at last, after inquiring at all
the public-houses without success, Wright bethought himself of asking
where Miss Alicia Barton, the actress, lodged; for there he would
probably meet her lover. Mr. Harrison, an eminent dyer, to whom he
applied for information, very civilly offered to show him to the house.
Wright had gained this dyer’s good opinion by the punctuality with
which he had, for three years past, supplied him, at the day and
hour appointed, with the quantity of woad for which he had agreed.
Punctuality never fails to gain the good opinion of men of business.

As the dyer walked with Wright to Miss Barton’s lodgings, they entered
into conversation about her; and Wright asked what character she bore.
“I know nothing of her character for my own share,” said Harrison, “not
being in that line of business; but I think I could put you into a way
of seeing her in her true colours, whatever they may be; for she is very
intimate with a milliner, whom my wife (though not with my good-will
entirely) visits. In return for which, I shall be glad that you will do
my business along with your own; and let me know if any thing is going
wrong.”

The dyer introduced Wright to the milliner as a gentleman farmer, who
wanted to take home with him a fashionable cap and bonnet, or two,
for some ladies in Lincolnshire. The milliner ordered down some dusty
bandboxes, which she protested and vowed were just arrived from London
with the newest fashions; and, whilst she was displaying these, Wright
talked of the races, and the players, and Miss Alicia Barton.

“Is she as handsome as they say? I have a huge _cur’osity_ to see her,”
 said Wright, feigning more rusticity of manner and more simplicity than
was natural to him. “I have, truly, a woundy _cur’osity_ to see her,
I’ve heard so much of her, even down in Lincolnshire.”

“If you go to see the play, sir, you can’t fail to have your curiosity
gratified, for Miss Barton plays to-night--(Jenny! reach me a
play-bill)--for her own benefit, and appears in her very best character,
the Romp.”

“The Romp!--Odds! Is that her best character? Why, now, to my notion,
bad’s the best, if that be the best of her characters. The Romp!--Odds
so! What would our grandmothers say to that?”

“Oh, sir, times are changed, as well as fashions, since our
grandmothers’ days,” said the milliner. “Put up this bonnet for the
gentleman, Jenny.--I am sure I don’t pretend to say any thing in favour
of the times, whatever I may of the fashions. But, as to fashion, to be
sure no one can be more fashionable, here in York, than Miss Barton. All
our gentlemen are dying for her.”

“Odds my life, I’ll keep out of her way! And yet I’ve a huge cur’osity
to set my eyes upon her. Pray, now, could I any way get to the sight or
speech of her in a room, or so? for seeing a woman on the stage is one
thing, and seeing her off, as I take it, is another.”

“I take it so too, sir. Jenny, put up the cap for the gentleman, and
make out a bill.”

“No, no; the bonnet’s all I want, which I’ll pay for on the nail.”

Wright took out a long purse full of guineas: then put it up again, and
opened a pocket-book full of bank-notes. The milliner’s respect for him
obviously increased. “Jenny! Do run and see who’s within there. Miss
Barton was trying on her dress, I think, half an hour ago: may be she’ll
pass through this way, and the gentleman may have a sight of her, since
it weighs so much upon his mind. Let me put up the cap too, sir: it’s
quite the fashion, you may assure the Lincolnshire ladies.--Oh! here’s
Miss Barton.”

Miss Barton made her appearance, with all her most bewitching smiles
and graces. Without seeming to notice Wright, she seated herself in a
charming attitude; and, leaning pensively on the counter, addressed
her conversation to her friend, the milliner: but, at every convenient
pause, she cast an inquiring glance at Wright, who stood with his long
purse of guineas in his hand, and his open pocket-book of bank-notes
before him, as if he had been so much astonished by the lady’s
appearance, that he could not recover his recollection. Now, Wright was
a remarkably well-shaped handsome man, and Miss Barton was in reality as
much struck by his appearance as he feigned to be by hers. No forbidding
reserve condemned him to silence; and, as if inspired by the hope of
pleasing, he soon grew talkative.

“This is the most rare town, this, your town of York.” said he: “I do
not well know how I shall ever be able to get myself out of it: so many
fine sights, my eyes be quite dazzled!” “And pray, sir, which of all the
fine sights do you like the best?” said the milliner.

“Oh! the ladies be the finest of all the fine sights: and I know who I
think the finest lady I ever beheld--but will never tell--never.”

“Never, sir?” said the milliner, whilst Miss Barton modestly cast down
her eyes. “Never’s a bold word, sir. I’ve a notion you’ll live to break
that rash resolution.”

Miss Barton sighed, and involuntarily looked at the glass.

“Why, where’s the use,” pursued Wright, “of being laughed at? Where’s
the sense of being scoffed at, as a man might be, that would go for to
pay a compliment, not well knowing how, to a lady that is used to have
court made to her by the first gentlemen in all York?”

“Those that think they don’t know how to pay a compliment often pay the
best to my fancy,” said the milliner. “What says Miss Barton?”

Miss Barton sighed and blushed, or looked as if she meant to blush; and
then, raising her well-practised eyes, exclaimed, with theatrical tones
and gestures:

  “Ye sacred pow’rs, whose gracious providence
  Is watchful for our good, guard me from men,
  From their deceitful tongues, their vows and flatteries;
  Still let me pass neglected by their eyes:
  Let my bloom wither and my form decay,
  That none may think it worth their while to ruin me,
  And fatal love may never be my bane.”

Scarcely had she concluded her speech, when Pierce Marvel came
breathless into the shop. Wright was standing so as to be completely
hidden by the door: and Marvel, not seeing his friend, addressed
himself, as soon as he had breath, to his mistress.--The lady’s manner
changed, and Wright had an opportunity of seeing and admiring her powers
of acting. To Marvel, she was coy and disdainful.

“I expect my friend and relation in town every hour,” said he to her in
a low voice; “and then I shall be able to settle with your brother about
the sale of Clover-hill. You half promised that you would walk with me
this morning.” “Not without my brother: excuse me, sir,” said the coy
lady, withdrawing with the dignity of a princess. “When your friend
arrives, for whose advice I presume you wait, you will be able to decide
_your_ heart. Mine cannot be influenced by base lucre, or mercenary
considerations--Unhand me, sir.”

“I will run immediately to the inn, to see whether my friend is come,”
 cried Marvel. “Believe me, I am as much above mercenary considerations
as yourself; but I have promised not to conclude upon the sale till he
comes, and he would take it ill to be sent for, and then to be made a
fool of.--I’ll run to the Green Man again immediately, to see if he is
come.”

Marvel darted out of the shop. Wright, during this parley, which lasted
but a few seconds, had kept himself snug in his hiding-place, and
appeared to the milliner to be wholly absorbed in casting up his bill,
in which there was a shilling wrong. He came from behind the door
as soon as Marvel departed; and, saying that he would call for his
purchases in an hour’s time, left the milliner’s, took a hackney coach,
and drove to the Green Man, where he was now sure of meeting his cousin.

“Thank Heaven! you are come at last,” cried Marvel, the moment he saw
him. “Thank Heaven! you are come! do not let us lose a moment. If you
are not tired, if you are not hungry, come along with me, and I’ll
introduce you to my charming Alicia Barton.”

“I am both tired and hungry,” replied Wright: “so let us have a hot
beef-steak, and let me sit down and rest myself.”

It was the utmost stretch of Marvel’s patience to wait for the
beef-steak; and he could scarcely conceive how any one could prefer
eating it to seeing his charming Alicia. He did not eat a morsel
himself, but walked up and down the room with quick steps.

“Oh! my dear Wright,” cried he, “it is a sign you’ve never seen her, or
you would eat a little faster.”

“Does every body eat fast, who has seen Miss Barton?” said Wright; “then
to be sure I should; for I have seen her within this half hour.”

“Seen her! Seen Alicia! Seen her within this half hour! That’s
impossible.--How could you see her? Where could you see her?” “I saw her
in your company,” rejoined Wright, coolly.

“In my company! How could that be, without my seeing you?--You are
making a jest of me.”

“Not at all; only take care that you do not make a jest of yourself.
I assure you that I say nothing but truth: I’ve seen you and your Miss
Barton this very morning: nay, I’ll tell you what you said to her; you
told her that you could not sell Clover-hill till I came to town.”

Marvel stared, and stood in silent astonishment.

“Ay,” continued Wright, “you see by this how many things may pass before
a man’s eyes and ears, when he is in love, without his seeing or hearing
them. Why, man, I was in the milliner’s shop just now, standing in the
corner behind the door; but you could see nothing but your charming Miss
Barton.”

“I beg your pardon for being so blind,” said Marvel, laughing; “but you
are too good-natured to take offence; though you don’t know what it is
to be in love.”

“There you are mistaken; for I am as much in love as yourself at this
instant.”

“Then I’m undone,” cried Marvel, turning as pale as death.

“Why so?” said Wright; “will you allow nobody, man, to be in love but
yourself? I don’t see why I have not as good a right to fall in love as
you have.”

“To be sure you have,” said Marvel, trying to recover himself; “and
I can’t say but what you deal fairly by me, to tell me so honestly at
once. More fool I to send for you. I might have foreseen this, blockhead
as I am! but you deal fairly by me, Wright: so I cannot complain, and
will not, happen what may. Let him who can win her, wear her. We start
fair; for though I have had the advantage of a first acquaintance, you
are much the handsomer man of the two; and that goes for a great deal
with some ladies, though not perhaps with Alicia Barton.”

“There, perhaps, you may find yourself mistaken,” replied Wright, with a
significant look.

“You don’t say so? You don’t think so?” cried Marvel, with great
emotion. “I say what I think; and, if I may trust a woman’s looks, I’ve
some reason for my thoughts.”

Marvel took up the tankard which stood on the table, and swallowed down
a hasty draught; and then said, though with an altered voice, “Cousin
Wright, let him who can win her, wear her, as I said before. I sha’n’t
quarrel with you if you deal fairly by me; so tell me honestly, did you
never see her before this morning?”

“Never, as I am an honest man,” said Wright.

“Then, here’s my hand for you,” said Marvel. “All’s fair and handsome
on your part. Happen what may, as I said before, I will not quarrel with
you. If she was decreed to fall in love with you at first sight, why
that’s no fault of yours; and if she tells me so fairly, why no great
fault of hers. She has encouraged me a little; but still women will
change their minds, and I shall not call her a jilt if she speaks
handsomely to me. It will go a little to my heart at first, no doubt;
but I shall bear it like a man, I hope; and I shall not quarrel with
you, cousin Wright, whatever else I do.”

Marvel shook Wright’s hand heartily; but turned away directly
afterwards, to hide his agitation.

“Why now, cousin Marvel, you are a good fellow; that’s the truth of it,”
 said Wright. “Trust to me: and, if the girl is what you think her, you
shall have her: that I promise you.”

“That’s more than you _can_ promise, being as you say as much in love as
I am.”

“I say I’m more in love than you are: but what then, I ask you?”

“What then! why, we cannot both have Alicia Barton.”

“Very true. I would not have her if you would give her to me.”

“Would not have her!” cried Marvel, with a look of joyous astonishment:
“but, did not you tell me you were in love with her?”

“Not I. You told it to yourself. I said I was in love; but cannot a man
be in love with any woman in this whole world but Miss Barton?”

Marvel capered about the room with the most lively expressions of
delight, shook hands with his cousin, as if he would have pulled his
arm off, and then suddenly stopping, said, “But what do you think of my
Alicia? Though you are not in love with her, I hope you think well of
her?”

“I must see more of her before I am qualified to speak.”

“Nay, nay, no drawbacks: out with it. I must know what you think of her
at this time being.”

“At this time being, then, I think, she is what they call a--coquette.”

“Oh, there you are out, indeed, cousin Wright! she’s more of what they
call a prude than a coquette.”

“To you, perhaps; but not to me, cousin. Let every one speak of her as
they find,” replied Wright.

Marvel grew warm in defence of Miss Barton’s prudery; and at last ended
by saying, “that he’d stake his life upon it, she was no jilt. If she
had taken a fancy to you, Wright, she would honestly tell me so, I’m
convinced; and, when she finds you are thinking of another woman, her
pride would soon make her think no more of you. ‘Tis but little she
could have thought in the few minutes you were in her company; and it is
my opinion she never thought of you at all--no offence.”

“No offence, I promise you,” said Wright; “but let us put her to the
trial: do you keep your own counsel; go on courting her your own way,
and let me go mine. Don’t you say one word of my being here in York;
but put her off about the sale of Clover-hill, till such time as you are
sure of her heart.”

To this proposal Marvel joyfully agreed; and, as to the time of trial,
Wright asked only one week. His cousin then told him the new scheme,
from which he expected to make so much: it had been suggested by
Alicia’s brother. “I am to sell Clover-hill; and, with the money that I
get for it, Barton and I are to build and fit up a theatre in Lincoln,
and be the managers ourselves. I assure you, he says, and they all say,
I should make a figure on the stage: and Miss Barton whispered, in my
hearing, that I should make a capital Lothario,” added Marvel, throwing
himself into a stage attitude, and reciting, in a voice that made Wright
start,

     “‘Earth, Heav’n, and fair Calista, judge the combat.’”

“Very fine, no doubt,” said Wright; “but I am no judge of these matters;
only this I am sure of, that, with respect to selling Clover-hill, you
had best go slowly to work, and see what the sister is, before you trust
to the brother. It is not for my interest, I very well know, to advise
you against this scheme; because, if I wanted to make certain of your
not coming in for my uncle’s legacy, I could not take a better way than
to urge you to follow your fancy. For, say that you lay out all you have
in the world on the building of this playhouse, and say that Barton’s
as honest a man as yourself: observe, your playhouse cannot be built in
less than a couple of years, and the interest of your money must be dead
all that time; and pray how are you to bring yourself up, by the end of
the ten years? Consider, there are but seven years of the time to come.”

Marvel gave his cousin hearty thanks for his disinterested advice, but
observed that actors and managers of playhouses were, of all men, they
who were most likely to grow rich in a trice; that they often cleared
many hundreds in one night for their benefits; that even, if he should
fail to hit the public taste himself, as an actor, he was sure at
least, if he married the charming Alicia, that she would be a source
of inexhaustible wealth. “Not,” added he, “that I think of her in that
light; for my soul is as much superior to mercenary considerations as
her own.”

“More, perhaps,” said Wright; but seeing fire flash in his cousin’s
eyes at this insinuation, he contented himself for the present with the
promise he had obtained, that nothing should be concluded till the
end of one week; that no mention should be made to Miss Barton, or her
brother, of his arrival in town; and that he should have free liberty to
make trial of the lady’s truth and constancy, in any way he should
think proper. Back to his friend the milliner’s he posted directly. Miss
Barton was gone out upon the race-ground in Captain Mowbray’s curricle:
in her absence, Wright was received very graciously by the milliner,
who had lodgings to let, and who readily agreed to let them to him for
a week, as he offered half a guinea more than she could get from anybody
else. She fancied that he was deeply smitten with Miss Barton’s
charms, and encouraged his passion, by pretty broad hints that it was
reciprocal. Miss Barton drank tea this evening with the milliner: Wright
was of the party, and he was made to understand that _others_ had been
excluded: “for Miss Barton,” her friend observed, “was very _nice_ as to
her company.”

Many dexterous efforts were made to induce Wright to lay open his heart;
for the dyer’s lady had been cross-questioned as to his property in
Lincolnshire, and she being a lover of the marvellous, had indulged
herself in a little exaggeration; so that he was considered as a prize,
and Miss Barton’s imagination settled the matter so rapidly, that she
had actually agreed to make the milliner a handsome present on the
wedding-day. Upon this hint, the milliner became anxious to push forward
the affair. Marvel, she observed, hung back about the sale of his
estate; and, as to Sir Plantagenet Mowbray’s son, he was bound hand and
foot by his father, so could do nothing genteel: besides, honourable
matrimony was out of the question there.

All these things considered, the milliner’s decision was, on perfectly
prudential and virtuous motives, in favour of Wright. Miss Barton’s
_heart_, to use her own misapplied term, spoke warmly in his favour; for
he was, without any comparison, the _handsomest_ of her lovers; and
his simplicity and apparent ignorance of the world were rather
recommendations than objections.

Upon her second interview with him, she had, however, some reason to
suspect that his simplicity was not so great as she had imagined. She
was surprised to observe, that, notwithstanding all their artful
hints, Wright came to nothing like a positive proposal, nor even to any
declaration of his passion. The next day she was yet more astonished;
for Wright, though he _knew_ she was a full hour in the milliner’s shop,
never made the slightest attempt to see her; nay, in the evening, he
met her on the public walk, and passed without more notice than a formal
bow, and without turning his head back to look after her, though she
was flirting with a party of gentlemen, expressly for the purpose of
exciting his jealousy.

Another consultation was held with her friend the milliner: “These men
are terrible creatures to deal with,” said her confidant. “Do you know,
my dear creature, this man, simple as he looks, has been very near
taking us in. Would you believe it? he is absolutely courting a
Lincolnshire lady for a wife. He wrote a letter to her, my dear
Alicia, this morning, and begged me to let my boy run with it to the
post-office. I winded and winded, saying he was mighty anxious about
the letter, and so on, till, at the last, out comes the truth. Then
I touched him about you; but he said, ‘an actress was not fit for a
farmer’s wife, and that you had too many admirers already.’ You see, my
dear creature, that he has none of the thoughts we built upon. Depend
upon it he is a shrewd man, and knows what he is about; so, as we cannot
do better than Marvel, my advice--”

“Your advice!” interrupted Miss Barton: “I shall follow no advice but my
own.” She walked up and down the small parlour in great agitation.

“Do as you please, my dear; but remember I cannot afford to _lay_ out of
my money to all eternity. The account between us has run up to a great
sum; the dresses were such as never were made up before in York, and
must be paid for accordingly, as you must be sensible, Miss Barton. And
when you have an opportunity of establishing yourself so handsomely, and
getting all your debts paid; and when your brother, who was here an hour
ago, presses the match with Mr. Marvel so much; it is very strange and
unaccountable of you to say, ‘you will take nobody’s advice but your
own;’ and to fall in love, ma’am, as you are doing, as fast as you can,
with a person who has no serious intentions, and is going to be married
to another woman. For shame, Miss Barton; is this behaving with proper
propriety? Besides, I’ve really great regard for that poor young man
that you have been making a fool of; I’m sure he is desperately in love
with you.”

“Then let him show it, and sell Clover-hill,” said Miss Barton.

Her mind balanced between avarice and what she called love. She had
taken a fancy to Wright, and his present coldness rather increased than
diminished her passion: he played his part so well, that she could
not tell how to decide. In the mean time, the milliner pressed for her
money; and Alicia’s brother bullied loudly in favour of Marvel: he had
engaged the milliner, whom he was courting, to support his opinion.
Marvel, though with much difficulty, stood his ground, and refused to
sell Clover-hill, till he should be perfectly sure that Miss Barton
would marry him, and till his relation should arrive in town, and give
his consent.




CHAPTER III.


Mr. Barton and the milliner now agreed, that if fair means would not
bring the charming Alicia to reason, others must be used; and it was
settled that she should be arrested for her debt to the milliner, which
was upwards of fifty pounds. “She knows,” said this considerate brother,
“that I have neither the power nor the will to pay the money. Sir
Plantagenet’s son is as poor as Job; so she must have recourse to
Marvel; and, if she gives him proper encouragement, he’ll pay the money
in a trice. As to this man, who lodges with you, let her apply to him if
she likes it; she will soon see how he will answer her. By your account
he is a shrewd fellow, and not like our friend Marvel.”

On Friday morning the charming Alicia was arrested, at the suit of her
dear friend and confidant, the milliner. The arrest was made in the
milliner’s shop. Alicia would doubtless have screamed and fainted, with
every becoming spirit and grace, if any spectators had been present:
but there was no one in the shop to admire or pity. She rushed with
dishevelled hair, and all the stage show of distraction, into Wright’s
apartment; but, alas! he was not to be found. She then composed herself,
and wrote the following note to Marvel:

“TO ---- MARVEL, ESQ. &C.

“At the Green Man.

“Much as it hurts the delicacy and wounds the pride of Alicia, she is
compelled, by the perfidy of a bosom friend of her own sex, to apply for
assistance and protection to one who will feel for the indignity that
has been shown her. How will his generous nature shudder, when he hears
that she is on the point of being dragged to a loathsome dungeon, for
want of the paltry sum of fifty pounds! Retrospection may convince the
man of her heart, that her soul is superior to mercenary considerations;
else, she would not now be reduced so low in the power of her enemies:
she scarcely knows what she writes--her heart bleeds--her brain is on
fire!

  “‘Celestial sounds! Peace dawns upon my soul,
  And every pain grows less. Oh! gentle Altamont,
  Think not too hardly of me when I’m gone,
  But pity me. Had I but early known
  Thy wond’rous worth, thou excellent young man,
  We had been happier both. Now ‘tis too late.
  And yet my eyes take pleasure to behold thee!
  Thou art their last dear object.--Mercy, Heav’n!’

  “Your affectionate,
  “And (shall I confess it?)
  “Too affectionate,
  “ALICIA.”

Marvel was settling some accounts with Wright when this note was put
into his hands: scarcely had he glanced his eye over it, when he started
up, seized a parcel of bank notes, which lay on the table, and was
rushing out of the room. Wright caught hold of his arm, and stopped him
by force.

“Where now? What now, Marvel?” said he.

“Do not stop me, Wright! I will not be stopped! She has been barbarously
used. They are dragging her to prison.--They have driven her almost out
of her senses. I must go to her this instant.”

“Well, well, don’t go without your hat, man, for the people in the
street will take you for a lunatic. May a friend see this letter that
has driven _you_ out of your senses?”

Marvel put it into Wright’s hands, who read it with wonderful composure;
and when he came to the end of it, only said--“Hum!”

“Hum,” repeated Marvel, provoked beyond measure; “you have no humanity.
You are most strangely prejudiced. You are worse than Goodenough. Why do
you follow me?” continued he, observing that Wright was coming after him
across the inn-yard into the street.

“I follow you to take care of you,” said Wright, calmly; “and though you
do stride on at such a rate, I’ll be bound to keep up with you.”

He suffered Marvel to walk on at his own pace for the length of two
streets, without saying another word; but just as they were turning the
corner into the square where the milliner lived, he again caught hold of
his cousin’s arm, and said to him: “Hark you, Marvel; will you trust me
with those bank notes that you have in your pocket? and will you let me
step on to the milliner’s, and settle this business for you? I see
it will cost you fifty pounds, but that I cannot help. You may think
yourself well off.”

“Fifty pounds! What are fifty pounds?” cried Marvel, hurrying forwards.
“You see that my Alicia must be superior to mercenary considerations;
for, though she knows I have a good fortune, that could not decide her
in my favour.”

“No, because she fancies that 1 have a better fortune; and, besides (for
there are times when a man must speak plainly), I’ve a notion she would
at this minute sooner be my mistress than your wife, if the thing were
fairly tried. She’ll take your money as fast as you please; and I may
take her as fast as I please.”

Incensed at these words, Marvel could scarcely restrain his passion
within bounds: but Wright, without being, moved, continued to speak.

“Nay, then, cousin, if you don’t believe me, put it to the test!--I’ll
wait here, at this woollen-draper’s, where I am to dine: do you go on to
your milliner’s, and say what you please, only let me have my turn
for half an hour this evening; and, if I am mistaken in the lady, I’ll
freely own it, and make all due apology.”

In the afternoon, Marvel came to Wright with a face full of joy and
triumph. “Go to my Alicia now, cousin Wright,” said he: “I defy you. She
is at her lodging.--She has promised to marry me! I am the happiest man
in the world!”

Wright said not a word, but departed. Now he had in his pocket an
unanswered billet-doux, which had been laid upon his table the preceding
night: the billet-doux had no name to it; but, from all he had remarked
of the lady’s manners towards him, he could not doubt that it was the
charming Alicia’s. He was determined to have positive proof, however, to
satisfy Marvel’s mind completely. The note which he had received was as
follows:

“What can be the cause of your cruel and sudden change towards one of
whom you lately appeared to think so partially? A certain female friend
may deceive you, by false representations: do not trust to her, but
learn the real sentiments of a fond heart from one who knows not how to
feign. Spare the delicacy of your victim, and guess her name.”

To this note, from one “who knew not how to feign,” Wright sent the
following reply:

“If Miss Barton knows any thing of a letter that was left at Mrs.
Stokes’s, the milliner’s, last night, she may receive an answer to her
questions from the bearer; who, being no scholar, hopes she will not
take no offence at the shortness of these lines, but satisfy him in the
honour of drinking tea with her, who waits below stairs for an answer.”

The charming Alicia allowed him the honour of drinking tea with her, and
was delighted with the thought that she had at last caught him in her
snares. The moment she had hopes of him, she resolved to break her
promise to Marvel; and by making a merit of sacrificing to Wright all
his rivals, she had no doubt that she should work so successfully
upon his vanity, as to induce him to break off his treaty with the
Lincolnshire lady.

Wright quickly let her go on with the notion that she had the game in
her own hands; at length he assumed a very serious look, like one upon
the point of forming some grand resolution; and turning half away from
her, said:

“But now, look ye, Miss Barton, I am not a sort of man who would like
to be made a fool of. Here I’m told half the gentlemen of York are dying
for you; and, as your friend Mrs. Stokes informed--”

“Mrs. Stokes is not my friend, but the basest and most barbarous of
enemies,” cried Alicia.

“Why, now, this is strange! She was your friend yesterday; and how do I
know but a woman may change as quick, and as short, about her lovers, as
about her friends?”

“I never can change: fear nothing,” said Alicia, tenderly.

“But let me finish what I was saying about Mrs. Stokes; she told me
something about one Mr. Marvel, I think they call him; now what is all
that?”

“Nothing: he is a foolish young man, who was desperately in love with
me, that’s all, and offered to marry me; but, as I told him, I am
superior to mercenary considerations.”

“And is the affair broke off, then?” said Wright, looking her full in
the face. “That’s in one word what I must be sure of: for I am not a man
that would choose to be jilted. Sit you down and pen me a farewell to
that same foolish young fellow. I am a plain-spoken man, and now you
have my mind.”

Miss Barton was now persuaded that all Wright’s coldness had proceeded
from jealousy: blinded by her passions, and alarmed by the idea that
this was the moment in which she must either secure or for ever abandon
Wright and his fortune, she consented to his proposal, and wrote the
following tender adieu to Marvel:

“TO----MARVEL, ESQ. &C. At the Green Man.


“SIR,

“CIRCUMSTANCES have occurred, since I had last the honour of seeing you,
which make it impossible that I should ever think of you more.

“ALICIA BARTON.”

Wright said he was perfectly satisfied with this note; and all that he
now desired was to be himself the bearer of it to Marvel.

“He is a hot-headed young man,” said Alicia; “he will perhaps quarrel
with you: let me send the letter by a messenger of my own. You don’t
know him; you will not be able to find him out. Besides, why will you
deprive me of your company? Cannot another carry this note as well as
you?”

“None shall carry it but myself,” said Wright, holding fast his prize.
She was apprehensive of losing him for ever, if she opposed what she
thought his jealous humour; so she struggled no longer to hold him, but
bade him make haste to return to his Alicia.

He returned no more; but the next morning she received from him the
following note:

“TO MISS ALICIA BARTON, &C.

“MADAM,

“Circumstances have occurred, since I had last the honour of seeing you,
which make it impossible that I should ever think of you more.

“JOHN WRIGHT.

“P.S. My cousin, Marvel, thanks you for your note. Before you receive
this, he will have left York wiser than he came into it by fifty guineas
and more.”

“Wiser by more than fifty guineas, I hope,” said Marvel, as he rode out
of town, early in the morning.

“I have been on the point of being finely taken in! I’m sure this
will be a lesson to me as long as I live. I shall never forget your
good-nature, and steadiness to me, Wright. Now, if it had not been for
you, I might have been married to this jade; and have given her and her
brother every thing I’m worth in the world. Well, well, this is a lesson
I shall remember. I’ve felt it sharply enough. Now I’ll turn my head to
my business again, if I can. How Goodenough would laugh at me if he knew
this story. But I’ll make up for all the foolish things I have done
yet before I die; and I hope, before I die, I may be able to show you,
cousin Wright, how much I am obliged to you: that would be greater
joy to me even than getting by my own ingenuity my uncle Pearson’s ten
thousand pound legacy. Do, Wright, find out something I can do for you,
to make amends for all the trouble I’ve given you, and all the time I
have made you waste: do, there’s a good fellow.”

“Well, then,” said Wright, “I don’t want to saddle you with an
obligation. You shall pay me in kind directly, since you are so desirous
of it. I told you I was in love: you shall come with me and see my
mistress, to give me your opinion of her. Every man can be prudent for
his neighbour: even you no doubt can,” added Wright, laughing. Wright’s
mistress was a Miss Banks, only daughter to a gentleman who had set up
an apparatus for manufacturing woad. Mr. Banks’s house was in their way
home, and they called there. They knocked several times at the door,
before any one answered: at last a boy came to hold their horses, who
told them that Mr. Banks was dead, and that nobody could be let into the
house. The boy knew nothing of the matter, except that his master died,
he believed, of a sort of a fit; and that his young mistress was in
great grief: “which I’m mortal sorry for,” added he: “for she be’s kind
hearted and civil spoken, and moreover did give me the very shoes I have
on my feet.”

“I wish I could see her,” said Wright; “I might be some comfort to her.”

“Might ye so, master? If that the thing be so,” said the boy, looking
earnestly in Wright’s face, “I’ll do my best endeavours.”

He ran off at full speed through the back yard, but returned to learn
the gentleman’s name, which he had forgotten to ask; and presently
afterwards he brought his answer. It was written with a pencil, and with
a trembling hand:

“My dear Mr. Wright, I cannot see you now: but you shall hear from me as
soon as I am able to give an answer to your last.

“S. BANKS.”

The words, “My dear,” were half rubbed out: but they were visible enough
to his eyes. Wright turned his horse’s head homewards, and Marvel and he
rode away. His heart was so full that he could not speak, and he did
not hear what Marvel said to comfort him. As they were thus riding on
slowly, they heard a great noise of horsemen behind them; and looking
back, they saw a number of farmers, who were riding after them. As they
drew near, Wright’s attention was roused by hearing the name of _Banks_
frequently repeated. “What news, neighbour?” said Marvel.

“The news is, that Mr. Banks is dead; he died of an apoplectic fit, and
has left his daughter a power o’ money, they say. Happy the man who
gets her! Good morrow to you, gentlemen; we’re in haste home.” After
receiving this intelligence, Wright read his mistress’s note over again,
and observed that he was not quite pleased to see the words “My dear”
 half rubbed out. Marvel exclaimed, “Have nothing more to do with
her; that’s my advice to you; for I would not marry any woman for her
fortune; especially if she thought she was doing me a favour. If she
loved you, she would not have rubbed out those words at such a time as
this.”

“Stay a bit,” said Wright; “we shall be better able to judge by and by.”

A week passed away, and Wright heard nothing from Miss Banks; nor did he
attempt to see her, but waited as patiently as he could for her promised
letter. At last it came. The first word was “Sir.” That was enough for
Marvel, who threw it down with indignation when his cousin showed it to
him. “Nay, but read it, at least,” said Wright.

“SIR,

“My poor father’s affairs have been left in great disorder; and instead
of the fortune which you might have expected with me, I shall have
little or nothing. The creditors have been very kind to me; and I hope
in time to pay all just debts. I have been much hurried with business,
or should have written sooner. Indeed it is no pleasant task to me to
write at all, on this occasion. I cannot unsay what I have said to you
in former times, for I think the same of you as ever I did: but I know
that I am not now a fit match for you as to fortune, and would not hold
any man to his word, nor could value any man enough to marry him, who
would break it. Therefore it will be no grief for me to break off with
you if such should be your desire. And no blame shall be thrown upon you
by my friends, for I will take the refusal upon myself. I know the terms
of your uncle’s will, and the great reason you have to wish for a good
fortune with your wife; so it is very natural--I mean very likely, you
may not choose to be burdened with a woman who has none. Pray speak your
mind freely to, sir,

“Your humble servant,

“S. BANKS.” Marvel had no sooner read this letter than he advised his
friend Wright to marry Miss Banks directly.

“That is what I have determined to do,” said Wright: “for I don’t think
money the first thing in the world; and I would sooner give up my uncle
Pearson’s legacy this minute than break my word to any woman, much less
to one that I love, as I do Miss Banks, better now than ever. I have
just heard from the steward, who brought this letter, how handsomely
and prudently she has behaved to other people, as well as to myself:
by which I can judge most safely. She has paid all the debts that were
justly due, and has sold even the gig, which I know she wished to keep;
but, seeing that it was not suited to her present circumstances, her
good sense has got the better. Now, to my mind, a prudent wife, even
as to money matters, may turn out a greater treasure to a man than what
they call a great fortune.”

With these sentiments Wright married Miss Banks, who was indeed a very
prudent, amiable girl. Goodenough sneered at this match; and observed
that he had always foretold Wright would be taken in, sooner or later.
Goodenough was now in his thirty-second year, and as he had always
determined to marry precisely at this age, he began to look about for
a wife. He chose a widow, said to be of a very close saving temper: she
was neither young, handsome, nor agreeable; but then she was rich,
and it was Goodenough’s notion that the main chance should be first
considered, in matrimony as in every thing else. Now this notable dame
was precisely of his way of thinking; but she had more shrewdness than
her lover, and she overreached him in the bargain: her fortune did not
turn out to be above one half of what report had represented it; her
temper was worse than even her enemies said it was; and the time that
was daily wasted in trifling disputes between this well-matched pair was
worth more than all the petty savings made by her avaricious habits.

Goodenough cursed himself ten times a day, during the honey-moon; but
as he did not like to let the neighbours know how far he had been
outwitted, he held his tongue with the fortitude of a martyr; and his
partisans all commended him for making so prudent a match. “Ah, ay,”
 said they, “there’s Wright, who might have had this very woman, has gone
and married a girl without a shilling, with all his prudence; and, as to
Marvel, he will surely be bit.” There they were mistaken. Marvel was
a person capable of learning from experience, and he never forgot the
lesson that he had received from the charming Alicia. It seemed to have
sobered him completely.




CHAPTER IV.


About this time, Mr. James Harrison, an eminent dyer, uncle to Wright’s
friend of that name at York, came to settle near Clover-hill; and
as Marvel was always inclined to be hospitable, he assisted his new
neighbour with many of those little conveniences, which money cannot
always command at the moment they are wanted. The dyer was grateful;
and, in return for Marvel’s civilities, let him into many of the
mysteries of the dyeing business, which he was anxious to understand.
Scarcely a day passed without his calling on Mr. James Harrison. Now,
Mr. Harrison had a daughter, Lucy, who was young and pretty, and Marvel
thought her more and more agreeable every time he saw her; but, as he
told Wright, he was determined not to fall in love with her, until he
was quite sure that she was good for something. A few weeks after he
had been acquainted with her, he had an opportunity of seeing her tried.
Mrs. Isaac Harrison, the dyer of York’s lady, came to spend some
time; Miss Millicent, or, as she was commonly called, Milly Harrison,
accompanied her mother: she, having a more fashionable air than Lucy,
and having learned to dance from a London dancing-master, thought
herself so much her superior that she ought to direct her in all things.
Miss Milly, the Sunday after her arrival, appeared at church in a bonnet
that charmed half the congregation; and a crowd of farmers’ wives and
daughters, the moment church was over, begged the favour of Miss Milly
to tell them where and how such a bonnet could be got, and how much it
would cost. It was extravagantly dear; and those mothers who had any
prudence were frightened at the price: but the daughters were of opinion
that it was the cheapest, as well as prettiest thing that ever was seen
or heard of; and Miss Milly was commissioned to write immediately to
York to bespeak fifteen bonnets exactly like her own. This transaction
was settled before they had left the churchyard; and Miss Milly was
leaning upon a tombstone to write down the names of those who were most
eager to have their bonnets before the next Sunday, when Wright and
Marvel came up to the place where the crowd was gathered, and they saw
what was going forward.

Miss Barber, Miss Cotton, Miss Lamb, Miss Dishley, Miss Trotter, Miss
Hull, Miss Parker, Miss Bury, Miss Oxley, &c. &c. &c. &c. &c. &c. &c.
&c. &c. &c. &c. &c., all, in their turn, peeped anxiously over Miss
Milly’s shoulder, to make themselves sure that their names were in the
happy list. Lucy Harrison, alone, stood with a composed countenance in
the midst of the agitated group. “Well, cousin Lucy, what say you now?
Shall I bespeak a bonnet for you, hey?--Do you know,” cried Miss Milly,
turning to the admirers of her bonnet, “do you know that I offered to
bespeak one yesterday for Lucy; and she was so stingy she would not
let me, because it was _too dear_?” “_Too dear!_ Could ye conceive it?”
 repeated the young ladies, joining in a scornful t

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