THE WORKS OF HENRY FIELDING

EDITED BY

GEORGE SAINTSBURY

IN TWELVE VOLUMES

VOL. VIII. 

AMELIA BYHENRY FIELDING ESQ

VOL. II. 

EDITED BY GEORGESAINTSBURY WITHILLUSTRATIONS BYHERBERT RAILTON& E. J. WHEELER. 

CONTENTS OF VOL. II. 

BOOK V. 

CHAPTER I. In which the reader will meet with an old acquaintance

CHAPTER I. Containing a brace of doctors and much physical matter

CHAPTER II. In which Booth pays a visit to the noble lord

CHAPTER III. Relating principally to the affairs of serjeant Atkinson

CHAPTER IV. Containing matters that require no preface

CHAPTER V. Containing much heroic matter

CHAPTER VI. In which the reader will find matter worthy his consideration

CHAPTER VII. Containing various matters

CHAPTER VIII. The heroic behaviour of Colonel Bath

CHAPTER IX. Being the last chapter of the fifth book

BOOK VI. 

CHAPTER I. Panegyrics on beauty, with other grave matters

CHAPTER II. Which will not appear, we presume, unnatural to all married readers

CHAPTER III. In which the history looks a little backwards

CHAPTER IV. Containing a very extraordinary incident

CHAPTER V. Containing some matters not very unnatural

CHAPTER VI. A scene in which some ladies will possibly think Amelia's conductexceptionable

CHAPTER VII. A chapter in which there is much learning

CHAPTER VIII. Containing some unaccountable behaviour in Mrs. . Ellison

CHAPTER IX. Containing a very strange incident

BOOK VII. 

CHAPTER I. A very short chapter, and consequently requiring no preface

CHAPTER II. The beginning of Mrs. Bennet's history

CHAPTER III. Continuation of Mrs. Bennet's story

CHAPTER IV. Farther continuation

CHAPTER V. The story of Mrs. Bennet continued

CHAPTER VI. Farther continued

CHAPTER VII. The story farther continued

CHAPTER VIII. Farther continuation

CHAPTER IX. The conclusion of Mrs. Bennet's history

CHAPTER X. Being the last chapter of the seventh book

BOOK VIII. 

CHAPTER I. Being the first chapter of the eighth book

CHAPTER II. Containing an account of Mr. Booth's fellow-sufferers

CHAPTER III. Containing some extraordinary behaviour in Mrs. Ellison

CHAPTER IV. Containing, among many matters, the exemplary behaviour of ColonelJames

CHAPTER V. Comments upon authors

CHAPTER VI. Which inclines rather to satire than panegyric

CHAPTER VII. Worthy a very serious perusal

CHAPTER VIII. Consisting of grave matters

CHAPTER IX. A curious chapter, from which a curious reader may draw sundryobservations

CHAPTER X. In which are many profound secrets of philosophy

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

AMELIA AND HER CHILDREN . . . Frontispiece

COLONEL BATH

LAWYER MURPHY

BOOK V. 

Chapter i. 

_In which the reader will meet with an old acquaintance. _

Booth's affairs were put on a better aspect than they had ever wornbefore, and he was willing to make use of the opportunity of one dayin seven to taste the fresh air. 

At nine in the morning he went to pay a visit to his old friendColonel James, resolving, if possible, to have a full explanation ofthat behaviour which appeared to him so mysterious: but the colonelwas as inaccessible as the best defended fortress; and it was asimpossible for Booth to pass beyond his entry as the Spaniards foundit to take Gibraltar. He received the usual answers; first, that thecolonel was not stirring, and an hour after that he was gone out. Allthat he got by asking further questions was only to receive stillruder answers, by which, if he had been very sagacious, he might havebeen satisfied how little worth his while it was to desire to go in;for the porter at a great man's door is a kind of thermometer, bywhich you may discover the warmth or coldness of his master'sfriendship. Nay, in the highest stations of all, as the great manhimself hath his different kinds of salutation, from an hearty embracewith a kiss, and my dear lord or dear Sir Charles, down to, well Mr. ----, what would you have me do? so the porter to some bows withrespect, to others with a smile, to some he bows more, to others lesslow, to others not at all. Some he just lets in, and others he justshuts out. And in all this they so well correspond, that one would beinclined to think that the great man and his porter had compared theirlists together, and, like two actors concerned to act different partsin the same scene, had rehearsed their parts privately together beforethey ventured to perform in public. 

Though Booth did not, perhaps, see the whole matter in this justlight, for that in reality it is, yet he was discerning enough toconclude, from the behaviour of the servant, especially when heconsidered that of the master likewise, that he had entirely lost thefriendship of James; and this conviction gave him a concern that notonly the flattering prospect of his lordship's favour was not able tocompensate, but which even obliterated, and made him for a whileforget the situation in which he had left his Amelia: and he wanderedabout almost two hours, scarce knowing where he went, till at last hedropt into a coffee-house near St James's, where he sat himself down. 

He had scarce drank his dish of coffee before he heard a young officerof the guards cry to another, "Od, d--n me, Jack, here he comes--here's old honour and dignity, faith. " Upon which he saw a chair open, and out issued a most erect and stately figure indeed, with a vastperiwig on his head, and a vast hat under his arm. This augustpersonage, having entered the room, walked directly up to the upperend, where having paid his respects to all present of any note, toeach according to seniority, he at last cast his eyes on Booth, andvery civilly, though somewhat coldly, asked him how he did. 

Booth, who had long recognized the features of his old acquaintanceMajor Bath, returned the compliment with a very low bow; but did notventure to make the first advance to familiarity, as he was trulypossessed of that quality which the Greeks considered in the highestlight of honour, and which we term modesty; though indeed, neitherours nor the Latin language hath any word adequate to the idea of theoriginal. 

The colonel, after having discharged himself of two or three articlesof news, and made his comments upon them, when the next chair to himbecame vacant, called upon Booth to fill it. He then asked him severalquestions relating to his affairs; and, when he heard he was out ofthe army, advised him earnestly to use all means to get in again, saying that he was a pretty lad, and they must not lose him. 

Booth told him in a whisper that he had a great deal to say to him onthat subject if they were in a more private place; upon this thecolonel proposed a walk in the Park, which the other readily accepted. 

During their walk Booth opened his heart, and, among other matters, acquainted Colonel Bath that he feared he had lost the friendship ofColonel James; "though I am not, " said he, "conscious of having donethe least thing to deserve it. "

Bath answered, "You are certainly mistaken, Mr. Booth. I have indeedscarce seen my brother since my coming to town; for I have been herebut two days; however, I am convinced he is a man of too nice honourto do anything inconsistent with the true dignity of a gentleman. "Booth answered, "He was far from accusing him of anythingdishonourable. "--"D--n me, " said Bath, "if there is a man alive can ordare accuse him: if you have the least reason to take anything ill, why don't you go to him? you are a gentleman, and his rank doth notprotect him from giving you satisfaction. " "The affair is not of anysuch kind, " says Booth; "I have great obligations to the colonel, andhave more reason to lament than complain; and, if I could but see him, I am convinced I should have no cause for either; but I cannot getwithin his house; it was but an hour ago a servant of his turned merudely from the door. " "Did a servant of my brother use you rudely?"said the colonel, with the utmost gravity. "I do not know, sir, inwhat light you see such things; but, to me, the affront of a servantis the affront of the master; and if he doth not immediately punishit, by all the dignity of a man, I would see the master's nose betweenmy fingers. " Booth offered to explain, but to no purpose; the colonelwas got into his stilts; and it was impossible to take him down, nay, it was as much as Booth could possibly do to part with him without anactual quarrel; nor would he, perhaps, have been able to haveaccomplished it, had not the colonel by accident turned at last totake Booth's side of the question; and before they separated he sworemany oaths that James should give him proper satisfaction. 

Such was the end of this present interview, so little to the contentof Booth, that he was heartily concerned he had ever mentioned asyllable of the matter to his honourable friend. 

[This chapter occurs in the original edition of _Amelia, _ between 1and 2. It is omitted later, and would have been omitted here but foran accident. As it had been printed it may as well appear: for thoughit has no great value it may interest some readers as an additionalillustration of Fielding's dislike to doctors. --ED. 

_Containing a brace of doctors and much physical matter. _

He now returned with all his uneasiness to Amelia, whom he found in acondition very little adapted to relieve or comfort him. That poorwoman was now indeed under very great apprehensions for her child, whose fever now began to rage very violently: and what was worse, anapothecary had been with her, and frightened her almost out of herwits. He had indeed represented the case of the child to be verydesperate, and had prevailed on the mother to call in the assistanceof a doctor. 

Booth had been a very little time in the room before this doctorarrived, with the apothecary close at his heels, and both approachedthe bed, where the former felt the pulse of the sick, and performedseveral other physical ceremonies. 

He then began to enquire of the apothecary what he had already donefor the patient; all which, as soon as informed, he greatly approved. The doctor then sat down, called for a pen and ink, filled a wholeside of a sheet of paper with physic, then took a guinea, and took hisleave; the apothecary waiting upon him downstairs, as he had attendedhim up. 

All that night both Amelia and Booth sat up with their child, whorather grew worse than better. In the morning Mrs. Ellison found theinfant in a raging fever, burning hot, and very light-headed, and themother under the highest dejection; for the distemper had not giventhe least ground to all the efforts of the apothecary and doctor, butseemed to defy their utmost power, with all that tremendous apparatusof phials and gallypots, which were arranged in battle-array all overthe room. 

Mrs. Ellison, seeing the distrest, and indeed distracted, condition ofAmelia's mind, attempted to comfort her by giving her hopes of thechild's recovery. "Upon my word, madam, " says she, "I saw a child ofmuch the same age with miss, who, in my opinion, was much worse, restored to health in a few days by a physician of my acquaintance. Nay, I have known him cure several others of very bad fevers; and, ifmiss was under his care, I dare swear she would do very well. " "Goodheavens! madam, " answered Amelia, "why should you not mention him tome? For my part I have no acquaintance with any London physicians, nordo I know whom the apothecary hath brought me. " "Nay, madam, " criesMrs. Ellison, "it is a tender thing, you know, to recommend aphysician; and as for my doctor, there are abundance of people whogive him an ill name. Indeed, it is true, he hath cured me twice offevers, and so he hath several others to my knowledge; nay, I neverheard of any more than one of his patients that died; and yet, as thedoctors and apothecaries all give him an ill character, one isfearful, you know, dear madam. " Booth enquired the doctor's name, which he no sooner heard than he begged his wife to send for himimmediately, declaring he had heard the highest character imaginableof him at the Tavern from an officer of very good understanding. Amelia presently complied, and a messenger was despatched accordingly. 

But before the second doctor could be brought, the first returned withthe apothecary attending him as before. He again surveyed and handledthe sick; and when Amelia begged him to tell her if there was anyhopes, he shook his head, and said, "To be sure, madam, miss is in avery dangerous condition, and there is no time to lose. If theblisters which I shall now order her, should not relieve her, I fearwe can do no more. "--"Would not you please, sir, " says the apothecary, "to have the powders and the draught repeated?" "How often were theyordered?" cries the doctor. "Only _tertia_ quaq. Hora, " says theapothecary. "Let them be taken every hour by all means, " cries thedoctor; "and--let me see, pray get me a pen and ink. "--"If you thinkthe child in such imminent danger, " said Booth, "would you give usleave to call in another physician to your assistance--indeed mywife"--"Oh, by all means, " said the doctor, "it is what I very muchwish. Let me see, Mr. Arsenic, whom shall we call?" "What do you thinkof Dr Dosewell?" said the apothecary. --"Nobody better, " cries thephysician. --"I should have no objection to the gentleman, " answeredBooth, "but another hath been recommended to my wife. " He thenmentioned the physician for whom they had just before sent. "Who, sir?" cries the doctor, dropping his pen; and when Booth repeated thename of Thompson, "Excuse me, sir, " cries the doctor hastily, "I shallnot meet him. "--"Why so, sir?" answered Booth. "I will not meet him, "replied the doctor. "Shall I meet a man who pretends to know more thanthe whole College, and would overturn the whole method of practice, which is so well established, and from which no one person hathpretended to deviate?" "Indeed, sir, " cries the apothecary, "you donot know what you are about, asking your pardon; why, he killseverybody he comes near. " "That is not true, " said Mrs. Ellison. "Ihave been his patient twice, and I am alive yet. " "You have had goodluck, then, madam, " answered the apothecary, "for he kills everybodyhe comes near. " "Nay, I know above a dozen others of my ownacquaintance, " replied Mrs. Ellison, "who have all been cured by him. ""That may be, madam, " cries Arsenic; "but he kills everybody for allthat--why, madam, did you never hear of Mr. ----? I can't think of thegentleman's name, though he was a man of great fashion; but everybodyknows whom I mean. " "Everybody, indeed, must know whom you mean, "answered Mrs. Ellison; "for I never heard but of one, and that manyyears ago. "

Before the dispute was ended, the doctor himself entered the room. Ashe was a very well-bred and very good-natured man, he addressedhimself with much civility to his brother physician, who was not quiteso courteous on his side. However, he suffered the new comer to beconducted to the sick-bed, and at Booth's earnest request to deliverhis opinion. 

The dispute which ensued between the two physicians would, perhaps, beunintelligible to any but those of the faculty, and not veryentertaining to them. The character which the officer and Mrs. Ellisonhad given of the second doctor had greatly prepossessed Booth in hisfavour, and indeed his reasoning seemed to be the juster. Booththerefore declared that he would abide by his advice, upon which theformer operator, with his zany, the apothecary, quitted the field, andleft the other in full possession of the sick. 

The first thing the new doctor did was (to use his own phrase) to blowup the physical magazine. All the powders and potions instantlydisappeared at his command; for he said there was a much readier andnearer way to convey such stuff to the vault, than by first sending itthrough the human body. He then ordered the child to be blooded, gaveit a clyster and some cooling physic, and, in short (that I may notdwell too long on so unpleasing a part of history), within three dayscured the little patient of her distemper, to the great satisfactionof Mrs. Ellison, and to the vast joy of Amelia. 

Some readers will, perhaps, think this whole chapter might have beenomitted; but though it contains no great matter of amusement, it mayat least serve to inform posterity concerning the present state ofphysic. ]

Chapter ii. 

_In which Booth pays a visit to the noble lord. _

When that day of the week returned in which Mr. Booth chose to walkabroad, he went to wait on the noble peer, according to his kindinvitation. 

Booth now found a very different reception with this great man'sporter from what he had met with at his friend the colonel's. He nosooner told his name than the porter with a bow told him his lordshipwas at home: the door immediately flew wide open, and he was conductedto an ante-chamber, where a servant told him he would acquaint hislordship with his arrival. Nor did he wait many minutes before thesame servant returned and ushered him to his lordship's apartment. 

He found my lord alone, and was received by him in the most courteousmanner imaginable. After the first ceremonials were over, his lordshipbegan in the following words: "Mr. Booth, I do assure you, you arevery much obliged to my cousin Ellison. She hath given you such acharacter, that I shall have a pleasure in doing anything in my powerto serve you. --But it will be very difficult, I am afraid, to get youa rank at home. In the West Indies, perhaps, or in some regimentabroad, it may be more easy; and, when I consider your reputation as asoldier, I make no doubt of your readiness to go to any place wherethe service of your country shall call you. " Booth answered, "That hewas highly obliged to his lordship, and assured him he would withgreat chearfulness attend his duty in any part of the world. The onlything grievous in the exchange of countries, " said he, "in my opinion, is to leave those I love behind me, and I am sure I shall never have asecond trial equal to my first. It was very hard, my lord, to leave ayoung wife big with her first child, and so affected with my absence, that I had the utmost reason to despair of ever seeing her more. Aftersuch a demonstration of my resolution to sacrifice every otherconsideration to my duty, I hope your lordship will honour me withsome confidence that I shall make no objection to serve in anycountry. "--"My dear Mr. Booth, " answered the lord, "you speak like asoldier, and I greatly honour your sentiments. Indeed, I own thejustice of your inference from the example you have given; for to quita wife, as you say, in the very infancy of marriage, is, Iacknowledge, some trial of resolution. " Booth answered with a low bow;and then, after some immaterial conversation, his lordship promised tospeak immediately to the minister, and appointed Mr. Booth to come tohim again on the Wednesday morning, that he might be acquainted withhis patron's success. The poor man now blushed and looked silly, till, after some time, he summoned up all his courage to his assistance, andrelying on the other's friendship, he opened the whole affair of hiscircumstances, and confessed that he did not dare stir from hislodgings above one day in seven. His lordship expressed great concernat this account, and very kindly promised to take some opportunity ofcalling on him at his cousin Ellison's, when he hoped, he said, tobring him comfortable tidings. 

Booth soon afterwards took his leave with the most profuseacknowledgments for so much goodness, and hastened home to acquainthis Amelia with what had so greatly overjoyed him. She highlycongratulated him on his having found so generous and powerful afriend, towards whom both their bosoms burnt with the warmestsentiments of gratitude. She was not, however, contented till she hadmade Booth renew his promise, in the most solemn manner, of taking herwith him. After which they sat down with their little children to ascrag of mutton and broth, with the highest satisfaction, and veryheartily drank his lordship's health in a pot of porter. 

In the afternoon this happy couple, if the reader will allow me tocall poor people happy, drank tea with Mrs. Ellison, where hislordship's praises, being again repeated by both the husband and wife, were very loudly echoed by Mrs. Ellison. While they were here, theyoung lady whom we have mentioned at the end of the last book to havemade a fourth at whist, and with whom Amelia seemed so much pleased, came in; she was just returned to town from a short visit in thecountry, and her present visit was unexpected. It was, however, veryagreeable to Amelia, who liked her still better upon a secondinterview, and was resolved to solicit her further acquaintance. 

Mrs. Bennet still maintained some little reserve, but was much morefamiliar and communicative than before. She appeared, moreover, to beas little ceremonious as Mrs. Ellison had reported her, and veryreadily accepted Amelia's apology for not paying her the first visit, and agreed to drink tea with her the very next afternoon. 

Whilst the above-mentioned company were sitting in Mrs. Ellison'sparlour, serjeant Atkinson passed by the window and knocked at thedoor. Mrs. Ellison no sooner saw him than she said, "Pray, Mr. Booth, who is that genteel young serjeant? he was here every day last week toenquire after you. " This was indeed a fact; the serjeant wasapprehensive of the design of Murphy; but, as the poor fellow hadreceived all his answers from the maid of Mrs. Ellison, Booth hadnever heard a word of the matter. He was, however, greatly pleasedwith what he was now told, and burst forth into great praises of theserjeant, which were seconded by Amelia, who added that he was herfoster-brother, and, she believed, one of the honestest fellows in theworld. 

"And I'll swear, " cries Mrs. Ellison, "he is one of the prettiest. Do, Mr. Booth, desire him to walk in. A serjeant of the guards is agentleman; and I had rather give such a man as you describe a dish oftea than any Beau Fribble of them all. "

Booth wanted no great solicitation to shew any kind of regard toAtkinson; and, accordingly, the serjeant was ushered in, though notwithout some reluctance on his side. There is, perhaps, nothing moreuneasy than those sensations which the French call the _mauvaisehonte, _ nor any more difficult to conquer; and poor Atkinson would, I am persuaded, have mounted a breach with less concern than he shewedin walking across a room before three ladies, two of whom were hisavowed well-wishers. 

Though I do not entirely agree with the late learned Mr. Essex, thecelebrated dancing-master's opinion, that dancing is the rudiment ofpolite education, as he would, I apprehend, exclude every other artand science, yet it is certain that persons whose feet have never beenunder the hands of the professors of that art are apt to discover thiswant in their education in every motion, nay, even when they stand orsit still. They seem, indeed, to be overburthened with limbs whichthey know not how to use, as if, when Nature hath finished her work, the dancing-master still is necessary to put it in motion. 

Atkinson was, at present, an example of this observation which doth somuch honour to a profession for which I have a very high regard. Hewas handsome, and exquisitely well made; and yet, as he had neverlearnt to dance, he made so awkward an appearance in Mrs. Ellison'sparlour, that the good lady herself, who had invited him in, could atfirst scarce refrain from laughter at his behaviour. He had not, however, been long in the room before admiration of his person got thebetter of such risible ideas. So great is the advantage of beauty inmen as well as women, and so sure is this quality in either sex ofprocuring some regard from the beholder. 

The exceeding courteous behaviour of Mrs. Ellison, joined to that ofAmelia and Booth, at length dissipated the uneasiness of Atkinson; andhe gained sufficient confidence to tell the company some entertainingstories of accidents that had happened in the army within hisknowledge, which, though they greatly pleased all present, are not, however, of consequence enough to have a place in this history. 

Mrs. Ellison was so very importunate with her company to stay supperthat they all consented. As for the serjeant, he seemed to be none ofthe least welcome guests. She was, indeed, so pleased with what shehad heard of him, and what she saw of him, that, when a little warmedwith wine, for she was no flincher at the bottle, she began to indulgesome freedoms in her discourse towards him that a little offendedAmelia's delicacy, nay, they did not seem to be highly relished by theother lady; though I am far from insinuating that these exceeded thebounds of decorum, or were, indeed, greater liberties than ladies ofthe middle age, and especially widows, do frequently allow tothemselves. 

Chapter iii. 

_Relating principally to the affairs of serjeant Atkinson. _

The next day, when all the same company, Atkinson only excepted, assembled in Amelia's apartment, Mrs. Ellison presently began todiscourse of him, and that in terms not only of approbation but evenof affection. She called him her clever serjeant, and her dearserjeant, repeated often that he was the prettiest fellow in the army, and said it was a thousand pities he had not a commission; for that, if he had, she was sure he would become a general. 

"I am of your opinion, madam, " answered Booth; "and he hath got onehundred pounds of his own already, if he could find a wife now to helphim to two or three hundred more, I think he might easily get acommission in a marching regiment; for I am convinced there is nocolonel in the army would refuse him. "

"Refuse him, indeed!" said Mrs. Ellison; "no; he would be a verypretty colonel that did. And, upon my honour, I believe there are veryfew ladies who would refuse him, if he had but a proper opportunity ofsoliciting them. The colonel and the lady both would be better offthan with one of those pretty masters that I see walking about, anddragging their long swords after them, when they should rather dragtheir leading-strings. "

"Well said, " cries Booth, "and spoken like a woman of spirit. --Indeed, I believe they would be both better served. "

"True, captain, " answered Mrs. Ellison; "I would rather leave the twofirst syllables out of the word gentleman than the last. "

"Nay, I assure you, " replied Booth, "there is not a quieter creaturein the world. Though the fellow hath the bravery of a lion, he haththe meekness of a lamb. I can tell you stories enow of that kind, andso can my dear Amelia, when he was a boy. "

"O! if the match sticks there, " cries Amelia, "I positively will notspoil his fortune by my silence. I can answer for him from hisinfancy, that he was one of the best-natured lads in the world. I willtell you a story or two of him, the truth of which I can testify frommy own knowledge. When he was but six years old he was at play with meat my mother's house, and a great pointer-dog bit him through the leg. The poor lad, in the midst of the anguish of his wound, declared hewas overjoyed it had not happened to miss (for the same dog had justbefore snapt at me, and my petticoats had been my defence). --Anotherinstance of his goodness, which greatly recommended him to my father, and which I have loved him for ever since, was this: my father was agreat lover of birds, and strictly forbad the spoiling of their nests. Poor Joe was one day caught upon a tree, and, being concluded guilty, was severely lashed for it; but it was afterwards discovered thatanother boy, a friend of Joe's, had robbed the nest of its young ones, and poor Joe had climbed the tree in order to restore them, notwithstanding which, he submitted to the punishment rather than hewould impeach his companion. But, if these stories appear childish andtrifling, the duty and kindness he hath shewn to his mother mustrecommend him to every one. Ever since he hath been fifteen years oldhe hath more than half supported her: and when my brother died, Iremember particularly, Joe, at his desire, for he was much hisfavourite, had one of his suits given him; but, instead of hisbecoming finer on that occasion, another young fellow came to churchin my brother's cloaths, and my old nurse appeared the same Sunday ina new gown, which her son had purchased for her with the sale of hislegacy. "

"Well, I protest, he is a very worthy creature, " said Mrs. Bennet. 

"He is a charming fellow, " cries Mrs. Ellison--"but then the name ofserjeant, Captain Booth; there, as the play says, my pride brings meoff again. "

 And whatsoever the sages charge on pride, The angels' fall, and twenty other good faults beside; On earth I'm sure--I'm sure--something--calling Pride saves man, and our sex too, from falling. --

Here a footman's rap at the door shook the room. Upon which Mrs. Ellison, running to the window, cried out, "Let me die if it is not mylord! what shall I do? I must be at home to him; but suppose he shouldenquire for you, captain, what shall I say? or will you go down withme?"

The company were in some confusion at this instant, and before theyhad agreed on anything, Booth's little girl came running into theroom, and said, "There was a prodigious great gentleman coming up-stairs. " She was immediately followed by his lordship, who, as he knewBooth must be at home, made very little or no enquiry at the door. 

Amelia was taken somewhat at a surprize, but she was too polite toshew much confusion; for, though she knew nothing of the town, she hadhad a genteel education, and kept the best company the countryafforded. The ceremonies therefore past as usual, and they all satdown. 

His lordship soon addressed himself to Booth, saying, "As I have whatI think good news for you, sir, I could not delay giving myself thepleasure of communicating it to you. I have mentioned your affairwhere I promised you, and I have no doubt of my success. One mayeasily perceive, you know, from the manner of people's behaving uponsuch occasions; and, indeed, when I related your case, I found therewas much inclination to serve you. Great men, Mr. Booth, must dothings in their own time; but I think you may depend on havingsomething done very soon. "

Booth made many acknowledgments for his lordship's goodness, and now asecond time paid all the thanks which would have been due, even hadthe favour been obtained. This art of promising is the economy of agreat man's pride, a sort of good husbandry in conferring favours, bywhich they receive tenfold in acknowledgments for every obligation, Imean among those who really intend the service; for there are otherswho cheat poor men of their thanks, without ever designing to deservethem at all. 

This matter being sufficiently discussed, the conversation took agayer turn; and my lord began to entertain the ladies with some ofthat elegant discourse which, though most delightful to hear, it isimpossible should ever be read. 

His lordship was so highly pleased with Amelia, that he could not helpbeing somewhat particular to her; but this particularity distinguisheditself only in a higher degree of respect, and was so very polite, andso very distant, that she herself was pleased, and at his departure, which was not till he had far exceeded the length of a common visit, declared he was the finest gentleman she had ever seen; with whichsentiment her husband and Mrs. Ellison both entirely concurred. 

Mrs. Bennet, on the contrary, exprest some little dislike to my lord'scomplaisance, which she called excessive. "For my own part, " said she, "I have not the least relish for those very fine gentlemen; what theworld generally calls politeness, I term insincerity; and I am morecharmed with the stories which Mrs. Booth told us of the honestserjeant than with all that the finest gentlemen in the world eversaid in their lives!"

"O! to be sure, " cries Mrs. Ellison; "_All for Love, or the Worldwell Lost, _ is a motto very proper for some folks to wear in theircoat of arms; but the generality of the world will, I believe, agreewith that lady's opinion of my cousin, rather than with Mrs. Bennet. "

Mrs. Bennet, seeing Mrs. Ellison took offence at what she said, thought proper to make some apology, which was very readily accepted, and so ended the visit. 

We cannot however put an end to the chapter without observing thatsuch is the ambitious temper of beauty, that it may always apply toitself that celebrated passage in Lucan, _Nec quenquam jam ferre potest Caesarve priorem, Pompeiusveparem. _

Indeed, I believe, it may be laid down as a general rule, that nowoman who hath any great pretensions to admiration is ever wellpleased in a company where she perceives herself to fill only thesecond place. This observation, however, I humbly submit to thejudgment of the ladies, and hope it will be considered as retracted byme if they shall dissent from my opinion. 

Chapter iv. 

_Containing matters that require no preface. _

When Booth and his wife were left alone together they both extremelyexulted in their good fortune in having found so good a friend as hislordship; nor were they wanting in very warm expressions of gratitudetowards Mrs. Ellison. After which they began to lay down schemes ofliving when Booth should have his commission of captain; and, afterthe exactest computation, concluded that, with economy, they should beable to save at least fifty pounds a-year out of their income in orderto pay their debts. 

These matters being well settled, Amelia asked Booth what he thoughtof Mrs. Bennet? "I think, my dear, " answered Booth, "that she hathbeen formerly a very pretty woman. " "I am mistaken, " replied she, "ifshe be not a very good creature. I don't know I ever took such aliking to any one on so short an acquaintance. I fancy she hath been avery spritely woman; for, if you observe, she discovers by starts agreat vivacity in her countenance. " "I made the same observation, "cries Booth: "sure some strange misfortune hath befallen her. " "Amisfortune, indeed!" answered Amelia; "sure, child, you forget whatMrs. Ellison told us, that she had lost a beloved husband. Amisfortune which I have often wondered at any woman's surviving. " Atwhich words she cast a tender look at Booth, and presently afterwards, throwing herself upon his neck, cried, "O, Heavens! what a happycreature am I! when I consider the dangers you have gone through, howI exult in my bliss!" The good-natured reader will suppose that Boothwas not deficient in returning such tenderness, after which theconversation became too fond to be here related. 

The next morning Mrs. Ellison addressed herself to Booth as follows:"I shall make no apology, sir, for what I am going to say, as itproceeds from my friendship to yourself and your dear lady. I amconvinced then, sir, there is a something more than accident in yourgoing abroad only one day in the week. Now, sir, if, as I am afraid, matters are not altogether as well as I wish them, I beg, since I donot believe you are provided with a lawyer, that you will suffer me torecommend one to you. The person I shall mention is, I assure you, ofmuch ability in his profession, and I have known him do great servicesto gentlemen under a cloud. Do not be ashamed of your circumstances, my dear friend: they are a much greater scandal to those who have leftso much merit unprovided for. "

Booth gave Mrs. Ellison abundance of thanks for her kindness, andexplicitly confessed to her that her conjectures were right, and, without hesitation, accepted the offer of her friend's assistance. 

Mrs. Ellison then acquainted him with her apprehensions on hisaccount. She said she had both yesterday and this morning seen two orthree very ugly suspicious fellows pass several times by her window. "Upon all accounts, " said she, "my dear sir, I advise you to keepyourself close confined till the lawyer hath been with you. I am surehe will get you your liberty, at least of walking about within theverge. There's something to be done with the board of green-cloth; Idon't know what; but this I know, that several gentlemen have livedhere a long time very comfortably, and have defied all the vengeanceof their creditors. However, in the mean time, you must be a closeprisoner with your lady; and I believe there is no man in England butwould exchange his liberty for the same gaol. "

She then departed in order to send for the attorney, and presentlyafterwards the serjeant arrived with news of the like kind. He said hehad scraped an acquaintance with Murphy. "I hope your honour willpardon me, " cries Atkinson, "but I pretended to have a small demandupon your honour myself, and offered to employ him in the business. Upon which he told me that, if I would go with him to the Marshal'scourt, and make affidavit of my debt, he should be able very shortlyto get it me; for I shall have the captain in hold, " cries he, "within a day or two. " "I wish, " said the serjeant, "I could do yourhonour any service. Shall I walk about all day before the door? orshall I be porter, and watch it in the inside till your honour canfind some means of securing yourself? I hope you will not be offendedat me, but I beg you would take care of falling into Murphy's hands;for he hath the character of the greatest villain upon earth. I amafraid you will think me too bold, sir; but I have a little money; ifit can be of any service, do, pray your honour, command it. It cannever do me so much good any other way. Consider, sir, I owe all Ihave to yourself and my dear mistress. "

Booth stood a moment, as if he had been thunderstruck, and then, thetears bursting from his eyes, he said, "Upon my soul, Atkinson, youovercome me. I scarce ever heard of so--much goodness, nor do I knowhow to express my sentiments of it. But, be assured, as for yourmoney, I will not accept it; and let it satisfy you, that in mypresent circumstances it would do me no essential service; but this beassured of likewise, that whilst I live I shall never forget thekindness of the offer. However, as I apprehend I may be in some dangerof fellows getting into the house, for a day or two, as I have noguard but a poor little girl, I will not refuse the goodness you offerto shew in my protection. And I make no doubt but Mrs. Ellison willlet you sit in her parlour for that purpose. "

Atkinson, with the utmost readiness, undertook the office of porter;and Mrs. Ellison as readily allotted him a place in her back-parlour, where he continued three days together, from eight in the morning tilltwelve at night; during which time, he had sometimes the company ofMrs. Ellison, and sometimes of Booth, Amelia, and Mrs. Bennet too; forthis last had taken as great a fancy to Amelia as Amelia had to her, and, therefore, as Mr. Booth's affairs were now no secret in theneighbourhood, made her frequent visits during the confinement of herhusband, and consequently her own. 

Nothing, as I remember, happened in this interval of time, more worthynotice than the following card which Amelia received from her oldacquaintance Mrs. James:--"Mrs. James sends her compliments to Mrs. Booth, and desires to know how she does; for, as she hath not had thefavour of seeing her at her own house, or of meeting her in any publicplace, in so long time, fears it may be owing to ill health. "

Amelia had long given over all thoughts of her friend, and doubted notbut that she was as entirely given over by her; she was very muchsurprized at this message, and under some doubt whether it was notmeant as an insult, especially from the mention of public places, which she thought so inconsistent with her present circumstances, ofwhich she supposed Mrs. James was well apprized. However, at theentreaty of her husband, who languished for nothing more than to beagain reconciled to his friend James, Amelia undertook to pay the ladya visit, and to examine into the mystery of this conduct, whichappeared to her so unaccountable. 

Mrs. James received her with a degree of civility that amazed Ameliano less than her coldness had done before. She resolved to come to aneclaircissement, and, having sat out some company that came in, whenthey were alone together Amelia, after some silence and many offers tospeak, at last said, "My dear Jenny (if you will now suffer me to callyou by so familiar a name), have you entirely forgot a certain younglady who had the pleasure of being your intimate acquaintance atMontpelier?" "Whom do you mean, dear madam?" cries Mrs. James withgreat concern. "I mean myself, " answered Amelia. "You surprize me, madam, " replied Mrs. James: "how can you ask me that question?" "Nay, my dear, I do not intend to offend you, " cries Amelia, "but I amreally desirous to solve to myself the reason of that coldness whichyou shewed me when you did me the favour of a visit. Can you think, mydear, I was not disappointed, when I expected to meet an intimatefriend, to receive a cold formal visitant? I desire you to examineyour own heart and answer me honestly if you do not think I had somelittle reason to be dissatisfied with your behaviour?" "Indeed, Mrs. Booth, " answered the other lady, "you surprize me very much; if therewas anything displeasing to you in my behaviour I am extremelyconcerned at it. I did not know I had been defective in any of therules of civility, but if I was, madam, I ask your pardon. " "Iscivility, then, my dear, " replied Amelia, "a synonymous term withfriendship? Could I have expected, when I parted the last time withMiss Jenny Bath, to have met her the next time in the shape of a finelady, complaining of the hardship of climbing up two pair of stairs tovisit me, and then approaching me with the distant air of a new or aslight acquaintance? Do you think, my dear Mrs. James, if the tableshad been turned, if my fortune had been as high in the world as yours, and you in my distress and abject condition, that I would not haveclimbed as high as the monument to visit you?" "Sure, madam, " criedMrs. James, "I mistake you, or you have greatly mistaken me. Can youcomplain of my not visiting you, who have owed me a visit almost thesethree weeks? Nay, did I not even then send you a card, which sure wasdoing more than all the friendship and good-breeding in the worldrequired; but, indeed, as I had met you in no public place, I reallythought you was ill. "

"How can you mention public places to me, " said Amelia, "when you canhardly be a stranger to my present situation? Did you not know, madam, that I was ruined?" "No, indeed, madam, did I not, " replied Mrs. James; "I am sure I should have been highly concerned if! had. " "Why, sure, my dear, " cries Amelia, "you could not imagine that we were inaffluent circumstances, when you found us in such a place, and in sucha condition. " "Nay, my dear, " answered Mrs. James, "since you arepleased to mention it first yourself, I own I was a little surprizedto see you in no better lodgings; but I concluded you had your ownreasons for liking them; and, for my own part, I have laid it down asa positive rule never to enquire into the private affairs of any one, especially of my friends. I am not of the humour of some ladies, whoconfine the circle of their acquaintance to one part of the town, andwould not be known to visit in the city for the world. For my part, Inever dropt an acquaintance with any one while it was reputable tokeep it up; and I can solemnly declare I have not a friend in theworld for whom I have a greater esteem than I have for Mrs. Booth. "

At this instant the arrival of a new visitant put an end to thediscourse; and Amelia soon after took her leave without the leastanger, but with some little unavoidable contempt for a lady, in whoseopinion, as we have hinted before, outward form and ceremonyconstituted the whole essence of friendship; who valued all heracquaintance alike, as each individual served equally to fill up aplace in her visiting roll; and who, in reality, had not the leastconcern for the good qualities or well-being of any of them. 

Chapter v. 

_Containing much heroic matter. _

At the end of three days Mrs. Ellison's friend had so far purchasedMr. Booth's liberty that he could walk again abroad within the vergewithout any danger of having a warrant backed against him by the boardbefore he had notice. As for the ill-looked persons that had given thealarm, it was now discovered that another unhappy gentleman, and notBooth, was the object of their pursuit. 

Mr. Booth, now being delivered from his fears, went, as he hadformerly done, to take his morning walk in the Park. Here he metColonel Bath in company with some other officers, and very civillypaid his respects to him. But, instead of returning the salute, thecolonel looked him full in the face with a very stern countenance;and, if he could be said to take any notice of him, it was in such amanner as to inform him he would take no notice of him. 

Booth was not more hurt than surprized at this behaviour, and resolvedto know the reason of it. He therefore watched an opportunity till thecolonel was alone, and then walked boldly up to him, and desired toknow if he had given him any offence? The colonel answered hastily, "Sir, I am above being offended with you, nor do I think it consistentwith my dignity to make you any answer. " Booth replied, "I don't know, sir, that I have done anything to deserve this treatment. " "Look'ee, sir, " cries the colonel, "if I had not formerly had some respect foryou, I should not think you worth my resentment. However, as you are agentleman born, and an officer, and as I have had an esteem for you, Iwill give you some marks of it by putting it in your power to doyourself justice. I will tell you therefore, sir, that you have actedlike a scoundrel. " "If we were not in the Park, " answered Boothwarmly, "I would thank you very properly for that compliment. " "O, sir, " cries the colonel, "we can be soon in a convenient place. " Uponwhich Booth answered, he would attend him wherever he pleased. Thecolonel then bid him come along, and strutted forward directly upConstitution-hill to Hyde-park, Booth following him at first, andafterwards walking before him, till they came to that place which maybe properly called the field of blood, being that part, a little tothe left of the ring, which heroes have chosen for the scene of theirexit out of this world. 

Booth reached the ring some time before the colonel; for he mended nothis pace any more than a Spaniard. To say truth, I believe it was notin his power: for he had so long accustomed himself to one and thesame strut, that as a horse, used always to trotting, can scarce beforced into a gallop, so could no passion force the colonel to alterhis pace. 

[Illustration with caption: _Colonel Bath. _]

At length, however, both parties arrived at the lists, where thecolonel very deliberately took off his wig and coat, and laid them onthe grass, and then, drawing his sword, advanced to Booth, who hadlikewise his drawn weapon in his hand, but had made no otherpreparation for the combat. 

The combatants now engaged with great fury, and, after two or threepasses, Booth run the colonel through the body and threw him on theground, at the same time possessing himself of the colonel's sword. 

As soon as the colonel was become master of his speech, he called outto Booth in a very kind voice, and said, "You have done my business, and satisfied me that you are a man of honour, and that my brotherJames must have been mistaken; for I am convinced that no man who willdraw his sword in so gallant a manner is capable of being a rascal. D--n me, give me a buss, my dear boy; I ask your pardon for thatinfamous appellation I dishonoured your dignity with; but d--n me ifit was not purely out of love, and to give you an opportunity of doingyourself justice, which I own you have done like a man of honour. Whatmay be the consequence I know not, but I hope, at least, I shall liveto reconcile you with my brother. "

Booth shewed great concern, and even horror in his countenance. "Why, my dear colonel, " said he, "would you force me to this? for Heaven'ssake tell me what I have ever done to offend you. "

"Me!" cried the colonel. "Indeed, my dear child, you never didanything to offend me. --Nay, I have acted the part of a friend to youin the whole affair. I maintained your cause with my brother as longas decency would permit; I could not flatly contradict him, though, indeed, I scarce believed him. But what could I do? If I had notfought with you, I must have been obliged to have fought with him;however, I hope what is done will be sufficient, and that matters maybe discomodated without your being put to the necessity of fightingany more on this occasion. "

"Never regard me, " cried Booth eagerly; "for Heaven's sake, think ofyour own preservation. Let me put you into a chair, and get you asurgeon. "

"Thou art a noble lad, " cries the colonel, who was now got on hislegs, "and I am glad the business is so well over; for, though yoursword went quite through, it slanted so that I apprehend there islittle danger of life: however, I think there is enough done to put anhonourable end to the affair, especially as you was so hasty to disarmme. I bleed a little, but I can walk to the house by the water; and, if you will send me a chair thither, I shall be obliged to you. "

As the colonel refused any assistance (indeed he was very able to walkwithout it, though with somewhat less dignity than usual), Booth setforward to Grosvenor-gate, in order to procure the chair, and soonafter returned with one to his friend; whom having conveyed into it, he attended himself on foot into Bond-street, where then lived a veryeminent surgeon. 

The surgeon having probed the wound, turned towards Booth, who wasapparently the guilty person, and said, with a smile, "Upon my word, sir, you have performed the business with great dexterity. "

"Sir, " cries the colonel to the surgeon, "I would not have you imagineI am afraid to die. I think I know more what belongs to the dignity ofa man; and, I believe, I have shewn it at the head of a line ofbattle. Do not impute my concern to that fear, when I ask you whetherthere is or is not any danger?"

"Really, colonel, " answered the surgeon, who well knew the complexionof the gentleman then under his hands, "it would appear likepresumption to say that a man who hath been just run through the bodyis in no manner of danger. But this I think I may assure you, that Iyet perceive no very bad symptoms, and, unless something worse shouldappear, or a fever be the consequence, I hope you may live to beagain, with all your dignity, at the head of a line of battle. "

"I am glad to hear that is your opinion, " quoth the colonel, "for I amnot desirous of dying, though I am not afraid of it. But, if anythingworse than you apprehend should happen, I desire you will be a witnessof my declaration that this young gentleman is entirely innocent. Iforced him to do what he did. My dear Booth, I am pleased matters areas they are. You are the first man that ever gained an advantage overme; but it was very lucky for you that you disarmed me, and I doubtnot but you have the equananimity to think so. If the business, therefore, hath ended without doing anything to the purpose, it wasFortune's pleasure, and neither of our faults. "

Booth heartily embraced the colonel, and assured him of the greatsatisfaction he had received from the surgeon's opinion; and soonafter the two combatants took their leave of each other. The colonel, after he was drest, went in a chair to his lodgings, and Booth walkedon foot to his; where he luckily arrived without meeting any of Mr. Murphy's gang; a danger which never once occurred to his imaginationtill he was out of it. 

The affair he had been about had indeed so entirely occupied his mind, that it had obliterated every other idea; among the rest, it causedhim so absolutely to forget the time of the day, that, though he hadexceeded the time of dining above two hours, he had not the leastsuspicion of being at home later than usual. 

Chapter vi. 

_In which the reader will find matter worthy his consideration. _

Amelia, having waited above an hour for her husband, concluded, as hewas the most punctual man alive, that he had met with some engagementabroad, and sat down to her meal with her children; which, as it wasalways uncomfortable in the absence of her husband, was very short; sothat, before his return, all the apparatus of dining was entirelyremoved. 

Booth sat some time with his wife, expecting every minute when thelittle maid would make her appearance; at last, curiosity, I believe, rather than appetite, made him ask how long it was to dinner? "Todinner, my dear!" answered Amelia; "sure you have dined, I hope?"Booth replied in the negative; upon which his wife started from herchair, and bestirred herself as nimbly to provide him a repast as themost industrious hostess in the kingdom doth when some unexpectedguest of extraordinary quality arrives at her house. 

The reader hath not, I think, from any passages hitherto recorded inthis history, had much reason to accuse Amelia of a blameablecuriosity; he will not, I hope, conclude that she gave an instance ofany such fault when, upon Booth's having so long overstayed his time, and so greatly mistaken the hour of the day, and upon some othercircumstances of his behaviour (for he was too honest to be good atconcealing any of his thoughts), she said to him after he had doneeating, "My dear, I am sure something more than ordinary hath happenedto-day, and I beg you will tell me what is. "

Booth answered that nothing of any consequence had happened; that hehad been detained by a friend, whom he met accidently, longer than heexpected. In short, he made many shuffling and evasive answers, notboldly lying out, which, perhaps, would have succeeded, but poorly andvainly endeavouring to reconcile falsehood with truth; an attemptwhich seldom fails to betray the most practised deceiver. 

How impossible was it therefore for poor Booth to succeed in an artfor which nature had so entirely disqualified him. His countenance, indeed, confessed faster than his tongue denied, and the whole of hisbehaviour gave Amelia an alarm, and made her suspect something verybad had happened; and, as her thoughts turned presently on the badnessof their circumstances, she feared some mischief from his creditorshad befallen him; for she was too ignorant of such matters to knowthat, if he had fallen into the hands of the Philistines (which is thename given by the faithful to bailiffs), he would hardly have beenable so soon to recover his liberty. Booth at last perceived her to beso uneasy, that, as he saw no hopes of contriving any fiction tosatisfy her, he thought himself obliged to tell her the truth, or atleast part of the truth, and confessed that he had had a littleskirmish with Colonel Bath, in which, he said, the colonel hadreceived a slight wound, not at all dangerous; "and this, " says he, "is all the whole matter. " "If it be so, " cries Amelia, "I thankHeaven no worse hath happened; but why, my dear, will you everconverse with that madman, who can embrace a friend one moment, andfight with him the next?" "Nay, my dear, " answered Booth, "youyourself must confess, though he be a little too much on the _quivive, _ he is a man of great honour and good-nature. " "Tell me not, "replied she, "of such good-nature and honour as would sacrifice afriend and a whole family to a ridiculous whim. Oh, Heavens!" criedshe, falling upon her knees, "from what misery have I escaped, fromwhat have these poor babes escaped, through your gracious providencethis day!" Then turning to her husband, she cried, "But are you surethe monster's wound is no more dangerous than you say? a monstersurely I may call him, who can quarrel with a man that could not, thatI am convinced would not, offend him. "

Upon this question, Booth repeated the assurances which the surgeonhad given them, perhaps with a little enlargement, which pretty wellsatisfied Amelia; and instead of blaming her husband for what he haddone, she tenderly embraced him, and again returned thanks to Heavenfor his safety. 

In the evening Booth insisted on paying a short visit to the colonel, highly against the inclination of Amelia, who, by many arguments andentreaties, endeavoured to dissuade her husband from continuing anacquaintance in which, she said, she should always foresee much dangerfor the future. However, she was at last prevailed upon to acquiesce;and Booth went to the colonel, whose lodgings happened to be in theverge as well as his own. 

He found the colonel in his night-gown, and his great chair, engagedwith another officer at a game of chess. He rose immediately, and, having heartily embraced Booth, presented him to his friend, saying, he had the honour to introduce to him as brave and as _fortitudinous_a man as any in the king's dominions. He then took Booth with him intothe next room, and desired him not to mention a word of what hadhappened in the morning; saying, "I am very well satisfied that nomore hath happened; however, as it ended in nothing, I could wish itmight remain a secret. " Booth told him he was heartily glad to findhim so well, and promised never to mention it more to any one. 

The game at chess being but just begun, and neither of the partieshaving gained any considerable advantage, they neither of theminsisted on continuing it; and now the colonel's antagonist took hisleave and left the colonel and Booth together. 

As soon as they were alone, the latter earnestly entreated the formerto acquaint him with the real cause of his anger; "for may I perish, "cries Booth, "if I can even guess what I have ever done to offendeither you, or your brother. Colonel James. "

"Look'ee, child, " cries the colonel; "I tell you I am for my own partsatisfied; for I am convinced that a man who will fight can never be arascal; and, therefore, why should you enquire any more of me atpresent? when I see my brother James, I hope to reconcile all matters, and perhaps no more swords need be drawn on this occasion. " But Boothstill persisting in his desire, the colonel, after some hesitation, with a tremendous oath, cried out, "I do not think myself at libertyto refuse you after the indignity I offered you; so, since you demandit of me, I will inform you. My brother told me you had used himdishonourably, and had divellicated his character behind his back. Hegave me his word, too, that he was well assured of what he said. Whatcould I have done? though I own to you I did not believe him, and yourbehaviour since hath convinced me I was in the right; I must eitherhave given him the lye, and fought with him, or else I was obliged tobehave as I did, and fight with you. And now, my lad, I leave it toyou to do as you please; but, if you are laid under any necessity todo yourself further justice, it is your own fault. "

"Alas! colonel, " answered Booth, "besides the obligations I have tothe colonel, I have really so much love for him, that I think ofnothing less than resentment. All I wish is to have this affairbrought to an eclaircissement, and to satisfy him that he is in anerror; for, though his assertions are cruelly injurious, and I havenever deserved them, yet I am convinced he would not say what he didnot himself think. Some rascal, envious of his friendship for me, hathbelyed me to him; and the only resentment I desire is, to convince himof his mistake. "

At these words the colonel grinned horribly a ghastly smile, or rathersneer, and answered, "Young gentleman, you may do as you please; but, by the eternal dignity of man, if any man breathing had taken aliberty with my character--Here, here--Mr. Booth (shewing hisfingers), here d--n me, should be his nostrils; he should breathethrough my hands, and breathe his last, d--n me. "

Booth answered, "I think, colonel, I may appeal to your testimony thatI dare do myself justice; since he who dare draw his sword against youcan hardly be supposed to fear any other person; but I repeat to youagain that I love Colonel James so well, and am so greatly obliged tohim, that it would be almost indifferent to me whether I directed mysword against his breast or my own. "

The colonel's muscles were considerably softened by Booth's lastspeech; but he again contracted them into a vast degree of fiercenessbefore he cried out--"Boy, thou hast reason enough to be vain; forthou art the first person that ever could proudly say he gained anadvantage over me in combat. I believe, indeed, thou art not afraid ofany man breathing, and, as I know thou hast some obligations to mybrother, I do not discommend thee; for nothing more becomes thedignity of a man than gratitude. Besides, as I am satisfied my brothercan produce the author of the slander--I say, I am satisfied of that--d--n me, if any man alive dares assert the contrary; for that would beto make my brother himself a liar--I will make him produce his author;and then, my dear boy, your doing yourself proper justice there willbring you finely out of the whole affair. As soon as my surgeon givesme leave to go abroad, which, I hope, will be in a few days, I willbring my brother James to a tavern where you shall meet us; and I willengage my honour, my whole dignity to you, to make you friends. "

The assurance of the colonel gave Booth great pleasure; for fewpersons ever loved a friend better than he did James; and as for doingmilitary justice on the author of that scandalous report which hadincensed his friend against him, not Bath himself was ever more ready, on such an occasion, than Booth to execute it. He soon after took hisleave, and returned home in high spirits to his Amelia, whom he foundin Mrs. Ellison's apartment, engaged in a party at ombre with thatlady and her right honourable cousin. 

His lordship had, it seems, had a second interview with the great man, and, having obtained further hopes (for I think there was not yet anabsolute promise) of success in Mr. Booth's affairs, his usual good-nature brought him immediately to acquaint Mr. Booth with it. As hedid not therefore find him at home, and as he met with the two ladiestogether, he resolved to stay till his friend's return, which he wasassured would not be long, especially as he was so lucky, he said, tohave no particular engagement that whole evening. 

We remarked before that his lordship, at the first interview withAmelia, had distinguished her by a more particular address from theother ladies; but that now appeared to be rather owing to his perfectgood-breeding, as she was then to be considered as the mistress of thehouse, than from any other preference. His present behaviour made thisstill more manifest; for, as he was now in Mrs. Ellison's apartment, though she was his relation and an old acquaintance, he applied hisconversation rather more to her than to Amelia. His eyes, indeed, werenow and then guilty of the contrary distinction, but this was only bystealth; for they constantly withdrew the moment they were discovered. In short, he treated Amelia with the greatest distance, and at thesame time with the most profound and awful respect; his conversationwas so general, so lively, and so obliging, that Amelia, when sheadded to his agreeableness the obligations she had to him for hisfriendship to Booth, was certainly as much pleased with his lordshipas any virtuous woman can possibly be with any man, besides her ownhusband. 

Chapter VII. 

_Containing various matters. _

We have already mentioned the good-humour in which Booth returnedhome; and the reader will easily believe it was not a little encreasedby the good-humour in which he found his company. My lord received himwith the utmost marks of friendship and affection, and told him thathis affairs went on as well almost as he himself could desire, andthat he doubted not very soon to wish him joy of a company. 

When Booth had made a proper return to all his lordship's unparalleledgoodness, he whispered Amelia that the colonel was entirely out ofdanger, and almost as well as himself. This made her satisfactioncomplete, threw her into such spirits, and gave such a lustre to hereyes, that her face, as Horace says, was too dazzling to be looked at;it was certainly too handsome to be looked at without the highestadmiration. 

His lordship departed about ten o'clock, and left the company inraptures with him, especially the two ladies, of whom it is difficultto say which exceeded the other in his commendations. Mrs. Ellisonswore she believed he was the best of all humankind; and Amelia, without making any exception, declared he was the finest gentleman andmost agreeable man she had ever seen in her life; adding, it was greatpity he should remain single. "That's true, indeed, " cries Mrs. Ellison, "and I have often lamented it; nay, I am astonished at it, considering the great liking he always shews for our sex, and he maycertainly have the choice of all. The real reason, I believe, is, hisfondness for his sister's children. I declare, madam, if you was tosee his behaviour to them, you would think they were his own. Indeedhe is vastly fond of all manner of children. " "Good creature!" criesAmelia; "if ever he doth me the honour of another visit I am resolvedI will shew him my little things. I think, Mrs. Ellison, as you say mylord loves children, I may say, without vanity, he will not see manysuch. " "No, indeed, will he not, " answered Mrs. Ellison: "and now Ithink on't, madam, I wonder at my own stupidity in never making theoffer before; but since you put it into my head, if you will give meleave, I'll take master and miss to wait on my lord's nephew andniece. They are very pretty behaved children; and little master andmiss will be, I dare swear, very happy in their acquaintance; besides, if my lord himself should see them, I know what will happen; for he isthe most generous of all human beings. "

Amelia very readily accepted the favour which Mrs. Ellison offeredher; but Booth exprest some reluctance. "Upon my word, my dear, " saidhe, with a smile, "this behaviour of ours puts me in mind of thecommon conduct of beggars; who, whenever they receive a favour, aresure to send other objects to the same fountain of charity. Don't we, my dear, repay our obligations to my lord in the same manner, bysending our children a begging to him?"

"O beastly!" cries Mrs. Ellison; "how could such a thought enter yourbrains? I protest, madam, I begin to grow ashamed of this husband ofyours. How can you have so vulgar a way of thinking? Begging, indeed!the poor little dear things a begging! If my lord was capable of sucha thought, though he was my own brother instead of my cousin, I shouldscorn him too much ever to enter his doors. " "O dear madam!" answeredAmelia, "you take Mr. Booth too seriously, when he was only in jest;and the children shall wait upon you whenever you please. "

Though Booth had been a little more in earnest than Amelia hadrepresented him, and was not, perhaps, quite so much in the wrong ashe was considered by Mrs. Ellison, yet, seeing there were two to oneagainst him, he wisely thought proper to recede, and let his simile gooff with that air of a jest which his wife had given it. 

Mrs. Ellison, however, could not let it pass without paying somecompliments to Amelia's understanding, nor without some obscurereflexions upon Booth, with whom she was more offended than the matterrequired. She was indeed a woman of most profuse generosity, and couldnot bear a thought which she deemed vulgar or sneaking. She afterwardslaunched forth the most profuse encomiums of his lordship'sliberality, and concluded the evening with some instances which he hadgiven of that virtue which, if not the noblest, is, perhaps, one ofthe most useful to society with which great and rich men can beendowed. 

The next morning early, serjeant Atkinson came to wait on lieutenantBooth, and desired to speak with his honour in private. Upon which thelieutenant and serjeant took a walk together in the Park. Boothexpected every minute when the serjeant would open his mouth; underwhich expectation he continued till he came to the end of the mall, and so he might have continued till he came to the end of the world;for, though several words stood at the end of the serjeant's lips, there they were likely to remain for ever. He was, indeed, in thecondition of a miser, whom a charitable impulse hath impelled to drawa few pence to the edge of his pocket, where they are altogether assecure as if they were in the bottom; for, as the one hath not theheart to part with a farthing, so neither had the other the heart tospeak a word. 

Booth at length, wondering that the serjeant did not speak, asked him, What his business was? when the latter with a stammering voice beganthe following apology: "I hope, sir, your honour will not be angry, nor take anything amiss of me. I do assure you, it was not of myseeking, nay, I dare not proceed in the matter without first askingyour leave. Indeed, if I had taken any liberties from the goodness youhave been pleased to shew me, I should look upon myself as one of themost worthless and despicable of wretches; but nothing is farther frommy thoughts. I know the distance which is between us; and, becauseyour honour hath been so kind and good as to treat me with morefamiliarity than any other officer ever did, if I had been base enoughto take any freedoms, or to encroach upon your honour's goodness, Ishould deserve to be whipt through the regiment. I hope, therefore, sir, you will not suspect me of any such attempt. "

"What can all this mean, Atkinson?" cries Booth; "what mighty matterwould you introduce with all this previous apology?"

"I am almost ashamed and afraid to mention it, " answered the serjeant;"and yet I am sure your honour will believe what I have said, and notthink anything owing to my own presumption; and, at the same time, Ihave no reason to think you would do anything to spoil my fortune inan honest way, when it is dropt into my lap without my own seeking. For may I perish if it is not all the lady's own goodness, and I hopein Heaven, with your honour's leave, I shall live to make her amendsfor it. " In a word, that we may not detain the reader's curiosityquite so long as he did Booth's, he acquainted that gentleman that hehad had an offer of marriage from a lady of his acquaintance, to whosecompany he had introduced him, and desired his permission to accept ofit. 

Booth must have been very dull indeed if, after what the serjeant hadsaid, and after what he had heard Mrs. Ellison say, he had wanted anyinformation concerning the lady. He answered him briskly andchearfully, that he had his free consent to marry any woman whatever;"and the greater and richer she is, " added he, "the more I shall bepleased with the match. I don't enquire who the lady is, " said he, smiling, "but I hope she will make as good a wife as, I am convinced, her husband will deserve. "

"Your honour hath been always too good to me, " cries Atkinson; "butthis I promise you, I will do all in my power to merit the kindnessshe is pleased to shew me. I will be bold to say she will marry anhonest man, though he is but a poor one; and she shall never wantanything which I can give her or do for her, while my name is JosephAtkinson. "

"And so her name is a secret, Joe, is it?" cries Booth. 

"Why, sir, " answered the serjeant, "I hope your honour will not insistupon knowing that, as I think it would be dishonourable in me tomention it. "

"Not at all, " replied Booth; "I am the farthest in the world from anysuch desire. I know thee better than to imagine thou wouldst disclosethe name of a fair lady. " Booth then shook Atkinson heartily by thehand, and assured him earnestly of the joy he had in his good fortune;for which the good serjeant failed not of making all properacknowledgments. After which they parted, and Booth returned home. 

As Mrs. Ellison opened the door, Booth hastily rushed by; for he hadthe utmost difficulty to prevent laughing in her face. He ran directlyup-stairs, and, throwing himself into a chair, discharged such a fitof laughter as greatly surprized, and at first almost frightened, hiswife. 

Amelia, it will be supposed, presently enquired into the cause of thisphenomenon, with which Booth, as soon as he was able (for that was notwithin a few minutes), acquainted her. The news did not affect her inthe same manner it had affected her husband. On the contrary, shecried, "I protest I cannot guess what makes you see it in soridiculous a light. I really think Mrs. Ellison hath chosen very well. I am convinced Joe will make her one of the best of husbands; and, inmy opinion, that is the greatest blessing a woman can be possessedof. "

However, when Mrs. Ellison came into her room a little whileafterwards to fetch the children, Amelia became of a more risibledisposition, especially when the former, turning to Booth, who wasthen present, said, "So, captain, my jantee-serjeant was very earlyhere this morning. I scolded my maid heartily for letting him wait solong in the entry like a lacquais, when she might have shewn him intomy inner apartment. " At which words Booth burst out into a very loudlaugh; and Amelia herself could no more prevent laughing than shecould blushing. 

"Heyday!" cries Mrs. Ellison; "what have I said to cause all thismirth?" and at the same time blushed, and looked very silly, as isalways the case with persons who suspect themselves to be the objectsof laughter, without absolutely taking what it is which makes themridiculous. 

Booth still continued laughing; but Amelia, composing her muscles, said, "I ask your pardon, dear Mrs. Ellison; but Mr. Booth hath beenin a strange giggling humour all this morning; and I really think itis infectious. "

"I ask your pardon, too, madam, " cries Booth, "but one is sometimesunaccountably foolish. "

"Nay, but seriously, " said she, "what is the matter?--something I saidabout the serjeant, I believe; but you may laugh as much as youplease; I am not ashamed of owning I think him one of the prettiestfellows I ever saw in my life; and, I own, I scolded my maid atsuffering him to wait in my entry; and where is the mighty ridiculousmatter, pray?"

"None at all, " answered Booth; "and I hope the next time he will beushered into your inner apartment. "

"Why should he not, sir?" replied she, "for, wherever he is ushered, Iam convinced he will behave himself as a gentleman should. "

Here Amelia put an end to the discourse, or it might have proceeded tovery great lengths; for Booth was of a waggish inclination, and Mrs. Ellison was not a lady of the nicest delicacy. 

Chapter VIII. 

_The heroic behaviour of Colonel Bath. _

Booth went this morning to pay a second visit to the colonel, where hefound Colonel James. Both the colonel and the lieutenant appeared alittle shocked at their first meeting, but matters were soon clearedup; for the former presently advanced to the latter, shook himheartily by the hand, and said, "Mr. Booth, I am ashamed to see you;for I have injured you, and I heartily ask your pardon. I am nowperfectly convinced that what I hinted to my brother, and which I findhad like to have produced such fatal consequences, was entirelygroundless. If you will be contented with my asking your pardon, andspare me the disagreeable remembrance of what led me into my error, Ishall esteem it as the highest obligation. "

Booth answered, "As to what regards yourself, my dear colonel, I amabundantly satisfied; but, as I am convinced some rascal hath been myenemy with you in the cruellest manner, I hope you will not deny methe opportunity of kicking him through the world. "

"By all the dignity of man, " cries Colonel Bath, "the boy speaks withspirit, and his request is reasonable. "

Colonel James hesitated a moment, and then whispered Booth that hewould give him all the satisfaction imaginable concerning the wholeaffair when they were alone together; upon which, Booth addressinghimself to Colonel Bath, the discourse turned on other matters duringthe remainder of the visit, which was but short, and then both wentaway together, leaving Colonel Bath as well as it was possible toexpect, more to the satisfaction of Booth than of Colonel James, whowould not have been displeased if his wound had been more dangerous;for he was grown somewhat weary of a disposition that he rather calledcaptious than heroic, and which, as he every day more and more hatedhis wife, he apprehended might some time or other give him sometrouble; for Bath was the most affectionate of brothers, and had oftenswore, in the presence of James, that he would eat any man alive whoshould use his sister ill. 

Colonel Bath was well satisfied that his brother and the lieutenantwere gone out with a design of tilting, from which he offered not asyllable to dissuade them, as he was convinced it was right, and thatBooth could not in honour take, nor the colonel give, any lesssatisfaction. When they had been gone therefore about half an hour, herang his bell to enquire if there was any news of his brother; aquestion which he repeated every ten minutes for the space of twohours, when, having heard nothing of him, he began to conclude thatboth were killed on the spot. 

While he was in this state of anxiety his sister came to see him; for, notwithstanding his desire of keeping it a secret, the duel had blazedall over the town. After receiving some kind congratulations on hissafety, and some unkind hints concerning the warmth of his temper, thecolonel asked her when she had seen her husband? she answered not thatmorning. He then communicated to her his suspicion, told her he wasconvinced his brother had drawn his sword that day, and that, asneither of them had heard anything from him, he began to apprehend theworst that could happen. 

Neither Miss Bellamy nor Mrs. Gibber were ever in a greaterconsternation on the stage than now appeared in the countenance ofMrs. James. "Good Heavens! brother, " cries she; "what do you tell me?you have frightened me to death. Let your man get me a glass of waterimmediately, if you have not a mind to see me die before your face. When, where, how was this quarrel? why did you not prevent it if youknew of it? is it not enough to be every day tormenting me withhazarding your own life, but must you bring the life of one who youknow must be, and ought to be, so much the dearest of all to me, intodanger? take your sword, brother, take your sword, and plunge it intomy bosom; it would be kinder of you than to fill it with such dreadsand terrors. " Here she swallowed the glass of water, and then threwherself back in her chair, as if she had intended to faint away. 

Perhaps, if she had so, the colonel would have lent her no assistance, for she had hurt him more than by ten thousand stabs. He sat erect inhis chair, with his eyebrows knit, his forehead wrinkled, his eyesflashing fire, his teeth grating against each other, and breathinghorrour all round him. In this posture he sat for some time silent, casting disdainful looks at his sister. At last his voice found itsway through a passion which had almost choaked him, and he cried out, "Sister, what have I done to deserve the opinion you express of me?which of my actions hath made you conclude that I am a rascal and acoward? look at that poor sword, which never woman yet saw but in itssheath; what hath that done to merit your desire that it should becontaminated with the blood of a woman?"

"Alas! brother, " cried she, "I know not what you say; you aredesirous, I believe, to terrify me out of the little senses I haveleft. What can I have said, in the agonies of grief into which youthrew me, to deserve this passion?"

"What have you said?" answered the colonel: "you have said that which, if a man had spoken, nay, d--n me, if he had but hinted that he dursteven think, I would have made him eat my sword; by all the dignity ofman, I would have crumbled his soul into powder. But I consider thatthe words were spoken by a woman, and I am calm again. Consider, mydear, that you are my sister, and behave yourself with more spirit. Ihave only mentioned to you my surmise. It may not have happened as Isuspect; but, let what will have happened, you will have the comfortthat your husband hath behaved himself with becoming dignity, and liesin the bed of honour. "

"Talk not to me of such comfort, " replied the lady; "it is a loss Icannot survive. But why do I sit here lamenting myself? I will go thisinstant and know the worst of my fate, if my trembling limbs willcarry me to my coach. Good morrow, dear brother; whatever becomes ofme, I am glad to find you out of danger. " The colonel paid her hisproper compliments, and she then left the room, but returned instantlyback, saying, "Brother, I must beg the favour of you to let yourfootman step to my mantua-maker; I am sure it is a miracle, in mypresent distracted condition, how it came into my head. " The footmanwas presently summoned, and Mrs. James delivered him his message, which was to countermand the orders which she had given that verymorning to make her up a new suit of brocade. "Heaven knows, " saysshe, "now when I can wear brocade, or whether ever I shall wear it. "And now, having repeated her message with great exactness, lest thereshould be any mistake, she again lamented her wretched situation, andthen departed, leaving the colonel in full expectation of hearingspeedy news of the fatal issue of the battle. 

But, though the reader should entertain the same curiosity, we must beexcused from satisfying it till we have first accounted for anincident which we have related in this very chapter, and which, wethink, deserves some solution. The critic, I am convinced, already isapprized that I mean the friendly behaviour of James to Booth, which, from what we had before recorded, seemed so little to be expected. 

It must be remembered that the anger which the former of thesegentlemen had conceived against the latter arose entirely from thefalse account given by Miss Matthews of Booth, whom that lady hadaccused to Colonel James of having as basely as wickedly traduced hischaracter. 

Now, of all the ministers of vengeance, there are none with whom thedevil deals so treacherously as with those whom he employs inexecuting the mischievous purposes of an angry mistress; for no sooneris revenge executed on an offending lover that it is sure to berepented; and all the anger which before raged against the belovedobject, returns with double fury on the head of his assassin. 

Miss Matthews, therefore, no, sooner heard that Booth was killed (forso was the report at first, and by a colonel of the army) than sheimmediately concluded it to be James. She was extremely shocked withthe news, and her heart instantly began to relent. All the reasons onwhich she had founded her love recurred, in the strongest andliveliest colours, to her mind, and all the causes of her hatred sunkdown and disappeared; or, if the least remembrance of anything whichhad disobliged her remained, her heart became his zealous advocate, and soon satisfied her that her own fates were more to be blamed thanhe, and that, without being a villain, he could have acted nootherwise than he had done. 

In this temper of mind she looked on herself as the murderer of aninnocent man, and, what to her was much worse, of the man she hadloved, and still did love, with all the violence imaginable. Shelooked on James as the tool with which she had done this murder; and, as it is usual for people who have rashly or inadvertently made anyanimate or inanimate thing the instrument of mischief to hate theinnocent means by which the mischief was effected (for this is asubtle method which the mind invents to excuse ourselves, the lastobjects on whom we would willingly wreak our vengeance), so MissMatthews now hated and cursed James as the efficient cause of that actwhich she herself had contrived and laboured to carry into execution. 

She sat down therefore in a furious agitation, little short ofmadness, and wrote the following letter:

"I Hope this will find you in the hands of justice, for the murder ofone of the best friends that ever man was blest with. In one sense, indeed, he may seem to have deserved his fate, by chusing a fool for afriend; for who but a fool would have believed what the anger and rageof an injured woman suggested; a story so improbable, that I couldscarce be thought in earnest when I mentioned it?

"Know, then, cruel wretch, that poor Booth loved you of all menbreathing, and was, I believe, in your commendation guilty of as muchfalsehood as I was in what I told you concerning him. 

"If this knowledge makes you miserable, it is no more than you havemade the unhappy F. MATTHEWS. "

Chapter ix. 

_Being the last chapter of the fifth book. _

We shall now return to Colonel James and Mr. Booth, who walkedtogether from Colonel Bath's lodging with much more peaceableintention than that gentleman had conjectured, who dreamt of nothingbut swords and guns and implements of wars. 

The Birdcage-walk in the Park was the scene appointed by James forunburthening his mind. --Thither they came, and there James acquaintedBooth with all that which the reader knows already, and gave him theletter which we have inserted at the end of the last chapter. 

Booth exprest great astonishment at this relation, not without ventingsome detestation of the wickedness of Miss Matthews; upon which Jamestook him up, saying, he ought not to speak with such abhorrence offaults which love for him had occasioned. 

"Can you mention love, my dear colonel, " cried Booth, "and such awoman in the same breath?"

"Yes, faith! can I, " says James; "for the devil take me if I know amore lovely woman in the world. " Here he began to describe her wholeperson; but, as we cannot insert all the description, so we shall omitit all; and concluded with saying, "Curse me if I don't think her thefinest creature in the universe. I would give half my estate, Booth, she loved me as well as she doth you. Though, on second consideration, I believe I should repent that bargain; for then, very possibly, Ishould not care a farthing for her. "

"You will pardon me, dear colonel, " answered Booth; "but to me thereappears somewhat very singular in your way of thinking. Beauty isindeed the object of liking, great qualities of admiration, good onesof esteem; but the devil take me if I think anything but love to bethe object of love. "

"Is there not something too selfish, " replied James, "in that opinion?but, without considering it in that light, is it not of all things themost insipid? all oil! all sugar! zounds! it is enough to cloy thesharp-set appetite of a parson. Acids surely are the most likely toquicken. "

"I do not love reasoning in allegories, " cries Booth; "but with regardto love, I declare I never found anything cloying in it. I have livedalmost alone with my wife near three years together, was never tiredwith her company, nor ever wished for any other; and I am sure I nevertasted any of the acid you mention to quicken my appetite. "

"This is all very extraordinary and romantic to me, " answered thecolonel. "If I was to be shut up three years with the same woman, which Heaven forbid! nothing, I think, could keep me alive but atemper as violent as that of Miss Matthews. As to love, it would makeme sick to death in the twentieth part of that time. If I was socondemned, let me see, what would I wish the woman to be? I think noone virtue would be sufficient. With the spirit of a tigress I wouldhave her be a prude, a scold, a scholar, a critic, a wit, apolitician, and a Jacobite; and then, perhaps, eternal oppositionwould keep up our spirits; and, wishing one another daily at thedevil, we should make a shift to drag on a damnable state of life, without much spleen or vapours. "

"And so you do not intend, " cries Booth, "to break with this woman?"

"Not more than I have already, if I can help it, " answered thecolonel. 

"And you will be reconciled to her?" said Booth. 

"Yes, faith! will I, if I can, " answered the colonel; "I hope you haveno objection. "

"None, my dear friend, " said Booth, "unless on your account. "

"I do believe you, " said the colonel: "and yet, let me tell you, youare a very extraordinary man, not to desire me to quit her on your ownaccount. Upon my soul, I begin to pity the woman, who hath placed heraffection, perhaps, on the only man in England of your age who wouldnot return it. But for my part, I promise you, I like her beyond allother women; and, whilst that is the case, my boy, if her mind was asfull of iniquity as Pandora's box was of diseases, I'd hug her closein my arms, and only take as much care as possible to keep the liddown for fear of mischief. But come, dear Booth, " said he, "let usconsider your affairs; for I am ashamed of having neglected them solong; and the only anger I have against this wench is, that she wasthe occasion of it. "

Booth then acquainted the colonel with the promises he had receivedfrom the noble lord, upon which James shook him by the hand, andheartily wished him joy, crying, "I do assure you, if you have hisinterest, you will need no other; I did not know you was acquaintedwith him. "

To which Mr. Booth answered, "That he was but a new acquaintance, andthat he was recommended to him by a lady. "

"A lady!" cries the colonel; "well, I don't ask her name. You are ahappy man, Booth, amongst the women; and, I assure you, you could haveno stronger recommendation. The peer loves the ladies, I believe, aswell as ever Mark Antony did; and it is not his fault if he hath notspent as much upon them. If he once fixes his eye upon a woman, hewill stick at nothing to get her. "

"Ay, indeed!" cries Booth. "Is that his character?"

"Ay, faith, " answered the colonel, "and the character of most menbesides him. Few of them, I mean, will stick at anything beside theirmoney. Jusque a la Bourse is sometimes the boundary of love as well asfriendship. And, indeed, I never knew any other man part with hismoney so very freely on these occasions. You see, dear Booth, theconfidence I have in your honour. "

"I hope, indeed, you have, " cries Booth, "but I don't see whatinstance you now give me of that confidence. "

"Have not I shewn you, " answered James, "where you may carry yourgoods to market? I can assure you, my friend, that is a secret I wouldnot impart to every man in your situation, and all circumstancesconsidered. "

"I am very sorry, sir, " cries Booth very gravely, and turning as paleas death, "you should entertain a thought of this kind; a thoughtwhich hath almost frozen up my blood. I am unwilling to believe thereare such villains in the world; but there is none of them whom Ishould detest half so much as myself, if my own mind had eversuggested to me a hint of that kind. I have tasted of some distressesof life, and I know not to what greater I may be driven, but myhonour, I thank Heaven, is in my own power, and I can boldly say toFortune she shall not rob me of it. "

"Have I not exprest that confidence, my dear Booth?" answered thecolonel. "And what you say now well justifies my opinion; for I doagree with you that, considering all things, it would be the highestinstance of dishonour. "

"Dishonour, indeed!" returned Booth. "What! to prostitute my wife! CanI think there is such a wretch breathing?"

"I don't know that, " said the colonel, "but I am sure it was very farfrom my intention to insinuate the least hint of any such matter toyou. Nor can I imagine how you yourself could conceive such a thought. The goods I meant were no other than the charming person of MissMatthews, for whom I am convinced my lord would bid a swinging priceagainst me. "

Booth's countenance greatly cleared up at this declaration, and heanswered with a smile, that he hoped he need not give the colonel anyassurances on that head. However, though he was satisfied with regardto the colonel's suspicions, yet some chimeras now arose in his brainwhich gave him no very agreeable sensations. What these were, thesagacious reader may probably suspect; but, if he should not, we mayperhaps have occasion to open them in the sequel. Here we will put anend to this dialogue, and to the fifth book of this history. 

BOOK VI. 

Chapter i. 

_Panegyrics on beauty, with other grave matters. _

The colonel and Booth walked together to the latter's lodging, for asit was not that day in the week in which all parts of the town areindifferent, Booth could not wait on the colonel. 

When they arrived in Spring-garden, Booth, to his great surprize, found no one at home but the maid. In truth, Amelia had accompaniedMrs. Ellison and her children to his lordship's; for, as her littlegirl showed a great unwillingness to go without her, the fond motherwas easily persuaded to make one of the company. 

Booth had scarce ushered the colonel up to his apartment when aservant from Mrs. James knocked hastily at the door. The lady, notmeeting with her husband at her return home, began to despair of him, and performed everything which was decent on the occasion. Anapothecary was presently called with hartshorn and sal volatile, adoctor was sent for, and messengers were despatched every way; amongstthe rest, one was sent to enquire at the lodgings of his supposedantagonist. 

The servant hearing that his master was alive and well above-stairs, ran up eagerly to acquaint him with the dreadful situation in which heleft his miserable lady at home, and likewise with the occasion of allher distress, saying, that his lady had been at her brother's, and hadthere heard that his honour was killed in a duel by Captain Booth. 

The colonel smiled at this account, and bid the servant make hasteback to contradict it. And then turning to Booth, he said, "Was thereever such another fellow as this brother of mine? I thought indeed, his behaviour was somewhat odd at the time. I suppose he overheard mewhisper that I would give you satisfaction, and thence concluded wewent together with a design of tilting. D--n the fellow, I begin togrow heartily sick of him, and wish I could get well rid of himwithout cutting his throat, which I sometimes apprehend he will insiston my doing, as a return for my getting him made a lieutenant-colonel. "

Whilst these two gentlemen were commenting on the character of thethird, Amelia and her company returned, and all presently came up-stairs, not only the children, but the two ladies, laden with trinketsas if they had been come from a fair. Amelia, who had been highlydelighted all the morning with the excessive pleasure which herchildren enjoyed, when she saw Colonel James with her husband, andperceived the most manifest marks of that reconciliation which sheknew had been so long and so earnestly wished by Booth, became sotransported with joy, that her happiness was scarce capable ofaddition. Exercise had painted her face with vermilion; and thehighest good-humour had so sweetened every feature, and a vast flow ofspirits had so lightened up her bright eyes, that she was all a blazeof beauty. She seemed, indeed, as Milton sublimely describes Eve, --Adorn'd With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow To make her amiable. 

Again:--

 Grace was in all her steps, Heaven in her eye, In every gesture, dignity and love. 

Or, as Waller sweetly, though less sublimely sings:--

 Sweetness, truth, and every grace Which time and use are wont to teach, The eye may in a moment reach, And read distinctly in her face. 

Or, to mention one poet more, and him of all the sweetest, she seemedto be the very person of whom Suckling wrote the following lines, where, speaking of Cupid, he says, All his lovely looks, his pleasing fires, All his sweet motions, all his taking smiles; All that awakes, all that inflames desires, All that sweetly commands, all that beguiles, He does into one pair of eyes convey, And there begs leave that he himself may stay. 

Such was Amelia at this time when she entered the room; and, havingpaid her respects to the colonel, she went up to her husband, andcried, "O, my dear! never were any creatures so happy as your littlethings have been this whole morning; and all owing to my lord'sgoodness; sure never was anything so good-natured and so generous!"She then made the children produce their presents, the value of whichamounted to a pretty large sum; for there was a gold watch, amongstthe trinkets, that cost above twenty guineas. 

Instead of discovering so much satisfaction on this occasion as Ameliaexpected, Booth very gravely answered, "And pray, my dear, how are weto repay all these obligations to his lordship?" "How can you ask sostrange a question?" cries Mrs. Ellison: "how little do you know ofthe soul of generosity (for sure my cousin deserves that name) whenyou call a few little trinkets given to children an obligation!""Indeed, my dear, " cries Amelia, "I would have stopped his hand if ithad been possible; nay, I was forced at last absolutely to refuse, orI believe he would have laid a hundred pound out on the children; forI never saw any one so fond of children, which convinces me he is oneof the best of men; but I ask your pardon, colonel, "said she, turningto him; "I should not entertain you with these subjects; yet I knowyou have goodness enough to excuse the folly of a mother. "

The colonel made a very low assenting bow, and soon after they all satdown to a small repast; for the colonel had promised Booth to dinewith him when they first came home together, and what he had sinceheard from his own house gave him still less inclination than ever torepair thither. 

But, besides both these, there was a third and stronger inducement tohim to pass the day with his friend, and this was the desire ofpassing it with his friend's wife. When the colonel had first seenAmelia in France, she was but just recovered from a consumptive habit, and looked pale and thin; besides, his engagements with Miss Bath atthat time took total possession of him, and guarded his heart from theimpressions of another woman; and, when he had dined with her in town, the vexations through which she had lately passed had somewhatdeadened her beauty; besides, he was then engaged, as we have seen, ina very warm pursuit of a new mistress, but now he had no suchimpediment; for, though the reader hath just before seen his warmdeclarations of a passion for Miss Matthews, yet it may be rememberedthat he had been in possession of her for above a fortnight; and oneof the happy properties of this kind of passion is, that it can withequal violence love half a dozen or half a score different objects atone and the same time. 

But indeed such were the charms now displayed by Amelia, of which weendeavoured above to draw some faint resemblance, that perhaps noother beauty could have secured him from their influence; and here, toconfess a truth in his favour, however the grave or rather thehypocritical part of mankind may censure it, I am firmly persuadedthat to withdraw admiration from exquisite beauty, or to feel nodelight in gazing at it, is as impossible as to feel no warmth fromthe most scorching rays of the sun. To run away is all that is in ourpower; and in the former case, if it must be allowed we have the powerof running away, it must be allowed also that it requires thestrongest resolution to execute it; for when, as Dryden says, All paradise is open'd in a face, how natural is the desire of going thither! and how difficult to quitthe lovely prospect!

And yet, however difficult this may be, my young readers, it isabsolutely necessary, and that immediately too: flatter not yourselvesthat fire will not scorch as well as warm, and the longer we staywithin its reach the more we shall burn. The admiration of a beautifulwoman, though the wife of our dearest friend, may at first perhaps beinnocent, but let us not flatter ourselves it will always remain so;desire is sure to succeed; and wishes, hopes, designs, with a longtrain of mischiefs, tread close at our heels. In affairs of this kindwe may most properly apply the well-known remark of _nemo repentefuit turpissimus. _ It fares, indeed, with us on this occasion aswith the unwary traveller in some parts of Arabia the desert, whom thetreacherous sands imperceptibly betray till he is overwhelmed andlost. In both cases the only safety is by withdrawing our feet thevery first moment we perceive them sliding. 

This digression may appear impertinent to some readers; we could not, however, avoid the opportunity of offering the above hints; since ofall passions there is none against which we should so strongly fortifyourselves as this, which is generally called love; for no other laysbefore us, especially in the tumultuous days of youth, such sweet, such strong and almost irresistible temptations; none hath produced inprivate life such fatal and lamentable tragedies; and what is worst ofall, there is none to whose poison and infatuation the best of mindsare so liable. Ambition scarce ever produces any evil but when itreigns in cruel and savage bosoms; and avarice seldom flourishes atall but in the basest and poorest soil. Love, on the contrary, sproutsusually up in the richest and noblest minds; but there, unless nicelywatched, pruned, and cultivated, and carefully kept clear of thosevicious weeds which are too apt to surround it, it branches forth intowildness and disorder, produces nothing desirable, but choaks up andkills whatever is good and noble in the mind where it so abounds. Inshort, to drop the allegory, not only tenderness and good nature, butbravery, generosity, and every virtue are often made the instrumentsof effecting the most atrocious purposes of this all-subduing tyrant. 

Chapter ii. 

_Which will not appear, we presume, unnatural to all marriedreaders. _

If the table of poor Booth afforded but an indifferent repast to thecolonel's hunger, here was most excellent entertainment of a muchhigher kind. The colonel began now to wonder within himself at his nothaving before discovered such incomparable beauty and excellence. Thiswonder was indeed so natural that, lest it should arise likewise inthe reader, we thought proper to give the solution of it in thepreceding chapter. 

During the first two hours the colonel scarce ever had his eyes offfrom Amelia; for he was taken by surprize, and his heart was gonebefore he suspected himself to be in any danger. His mind, however, nosooner suggested a certain secret to him than it suggested some degreeof prudence to him at the same time; and the knowledge that he hadthoughts to conceal, and the care of concealing them, had birth at oneand the same instant. During the residue of the day, therefore, hegrew more circumspect, and contented himself with now and thenstealing a look by chance, especially as the more than ordinarygravity of Booth made him fear that his former behaviour had betrayedto Booth's observation the great and sudden liking he had conceivedfor his wife, even before he had observed it in himself. 

Amelia continued the whole day in the highest spirits and highest goodhumour imaginable, never once remarking that appearance of discontentin her husband of which the colonel had taken notice; so much morequick-sighted, as we have somewhere else hinted, is guilt thaninnocence. Whether Booth had in reality made any such observations onthe colonel's behaviour as he had suspected, we will not undertake todetermine; yet so far may be material to say, as we can withsufficient certainty, that the change in Booth's behaviour that day, from what was usual with him, was remarkable enough. None of hisformer vivacity appeared in his conversation; and his countenance wasaltered from being the picture of sweetness and good humour, notindeed to sourness or moroseness, but to gravity and melancholy. 

Though the colonel's suspicion had the effect which we have mentionedon his behaviour, yet it could not persuade him to depart. In short, he sat in his chair as if confined to it by enchantment, stealinglooks now and then, and humouring his growing passion, without havingcommand enough over his limbs to carry him out of the room, tilldecency at last forced him to put an end to his preposterous visit. When the husband and wife were left alone together, the latter resumedthe subject of her children, and gave Booth a particular narrative ofall that had passed at his lordship's, which he, though something hadcertainly disconcerted him, affected to receive with all the pleasurehe could; and this affectation, however aukwardly he acted his part, passed very well on Amelia; for she could not well conceive adispleasure of which she had not the least hint of any cause, andindeed at a time when, from his reconciliation with James, sheimagined her husband to be entirely and perfectly happy. 

The greatest part of that night Booth past awake; and, if during theresidue he might be said to sleep, he could scarce be said to enjoyrepose; his eyes were no sooner closed, that he was pursued andhaunted by the most frightful and terrifying dreams, which threw himinto so restless a condition, that he soon disturbed his Amelia, andgreatly alarmed her with apprehensions that he had been seized by somedreadful disease, though he had not the least symptoms of a fever byany extraordinary heat, or any other indication, but was rather colderthan usual. 

As Booth assured his wife that he was very well, but found noinclination to sleep, she likewise bid adieu to her slumbers, andattempted to entertain him with her conversation. Upon which hislordship occurred as the first topic; and she repeated to him all thestories which she had heard from Mrs. Ellison, of the peer's goodnessto his sister and his nephew and niece. "It is impossible, my dear, "says she, "to describe their fondness for their uncle, which is to mean incontestible sign of a parent's goodness. " In this manner she ranon for several minutes, concluding at last, that it was pity so veryfew had such generous minds joined to immense fortunes. 

Booth, instead of making a direct answer to what Amelia had said, cried coldly, "But do you think, my dear, it was right to accept allthose expensive toys which the children brought home? And I ask youagain, what return we are to make for these obligations?"

"Indeed, my dear, " cries Amelia, "you see this matter in too serious alight. Though I am the last person in the world who would lessen hislordship's goodness (indeed I shall always think we are bothinfinitely obliged to him), yet sure you must allow the expense to bea mere trifle to such a vast fortune. As for return, his ownbenevolence, in the satisfaction it receives, more than repays itself, and I am convinced he expects no other. "

"Very well, my dear, " cries Booth, "you shall have it your way; I mustconfess I never yet found any reason to blame your discernment; andperhaps I have been in the wrong to give myself so much uneasiness onthis account. "

"Uneasiness, child!" said Amelia eagerly; "Good Heavens! hath thismade you uneasy?"

"I do own it hath, " answered Booth, "and it hath been the only causeof breaking my repose. "

"Why then I wish, " cries Amelia, "all the things had been at the devilbefore ever the children had seen them; and, whatever I may thinkmyself, I promise you they shall never more accept the value of afarthing:--if upon this occasion I have been the cause of youruneasiness, you will do me the justice to believe that I was totallyinnocent. "

At those words Booth caught her in his arms, and with the tenderestembrace, emphatically repeating the word innocent, cried, "Heavenforbid I should think otherwise! Oh, thou art the best of creaturesthat ever blessed a man!"

"Well, but, " said she, smiling, "do confess, my dear, the truth; Ipromise you I won't blame you nor disesteem you for it; but is notpride really at the bottom of this fear of an obligation?"

"Perhaps it may, " answered he; "or, if you will, you may call it fear. I own I am afraid of obligations, as the worst kind of debts; for Ihave generally observed those who confer them expect to be repaid tenthousand-fold. "

Here ended all that is material of their discourse; and a little timeafterwards, they both fell fast asleep in one another's arms; fromwhich time Booth had no more restlessness, nor any furtherperturbation in his dreams. 

Their repose, however, had been so much disturbed in the former partof the night, that, as it was very late before they enjoyed that sweetsleep I have just mentioned, they lay abed the next day till noon, when they both rose with the utmost chearfulness; and, while Ameliabestirred herself in the affairs of her family, Booth went to visitthe wounded colonel. 

He found that gentleman still proceeding very fast in his recovery, with which he was more pleased than he had reason to be with hisreception; for the colonel received him very coldly indeed, and, whenBooth told him he had received perfect satisfaction from his brother, Bath erected his head and answered with a sneer, "Very well, sir, ifyou think these matters can be so made up, d--n me if it is anybusiness of mine. My dignity hath not been injured. "

"No one, I believe, " cries Booth, "dare injure it. "

"You believe so!" said the colonel: "I think, sir, you might beassured of it; but this, at least, you may be assured of, that if anyman did, I would tumble him down the precipice of hell, d--n me, thatyou may be assured of. "

As Booth found the colonel in this disposition, he had no greatinclination to lengthen out his visit, nor did the colonel himselfseem to desire it: so he soon returned back to his Amelia, whom hefound performing the office of a cook, with as much pleasure as a finelady generally enjoys in dressing herself out for a ball. 

Chapter iii. 

_In which the history looks a little backwards. _

Before we proceed farther in our history we shall recount a shortscene to our reader which passed between Amelia and Mrs. Ellisonwhilst Booth was on his visit to Colonel Bath. We have alreadyobserved that Amelia had conceived an extraordinary affection for Mrs. Bennet, which had still encreased every time she saw her; she thoughtshe discovered something wonderfully good and gentle in hercountenance and disposition, and was very desirous of knowing herwhole history. 

She had a very short interview with that lady this morning in Mrs. Ellison's apartment. As soon, therefore, as Mrs. Bennet was gone, Amelia acquainted Mrs. Ellison with the good opinion she had conceivedof her friend, and likewise with her curiosity to know her story: "Forthere must be something uncommonly good, " said she, "in one who can sotruly mourn for a husband above three years after his death. "

"O!" cries Mrs. Ellison, "to be sure the world must allow her to havebeen one of the best of wives. And, indeed, upon the whole, she is agood sort of woman; and what I like her the best for is a strongresemblance that she bears to yourself in the form of her person, andstill more in her voice. But for my own part, I know nothingremarkable in her fortune, unless what I have told you, that she wasthe daughter of a clergyman, had little or no fortune, and married apoor parson for love, who left her in the utmost distress. If youplease, I will shew you a letter which she writ to me at that time, though I insist upon your promise never to mention it to her; indeed, you will be the first person I ever shewed it to. " She then opened herscrutore, and, taking out the letter, delivered it to Amelia, saying, "There, madam, is, I believe, as fine a picture of distress as canwell be drawn. "

"DEAR MADAM, "As I have no other friend on earth but yourself, I hope you willpardon my writing to you at this season; though I do not know that youcan relieve my distresses, or, if you can, have I any pretence toexpect that you should. My poor dear, O Heavens--my---lies dead in thehouse; and, after I had procured sufficient to bury him, a set ofruffians have entered my house, seized all I have, have seized hisdear, dear corpse, and threaten to deny it burial. For Heaven's sake, send me, at least, some advice; little Tommy stands now by me cryingfor bread, which I have not to give him. I can say no more than that Iam Your most distressed humble servant, M. BENNET. "

Amelia read the letter over twice, and then returning it with tears inher eyes, asked how the poor creature could possibly get through suchdistress. 

"You may depend upon it, madam, " said Mrs. Ellison, "the moment I readthis account I posted away immediately to the lady. As to the seizingthe body, that I found was a mere bugbear; but all the rest wasliterally true. I sent immediately for the same gentleman that Irecommended to Mr. Booth, left the care of burying the corpse to him, and brought my friend and her little boy immediately away to my ownhouse, where she remained some months in the most miserable condition. I then prevailed with her to retire into the country, and procured hera lodging with a friend at St Edmundsbury, the air and gaiety of whichplace by degrees recovered her; and she returned in about a twelve-month to town, as well, I think, as she is at present. "

"I am almost afraid to ask, " cries Amelia, "and yet I long methinks toknow what is become of the poor little boy. "

"He hath been dead, " said Mrs. Ellison, "a little more than half ayear; and the mother lamented him at first almost as much as she didher husband, but I found it indeed rather an easier matter to comforther, though I sat up with her near a fortnight upon the latteroccasion. "

"You are a good creature, " said Amelia, "and I love you dearly. "

"Alas! madam, " cries she, "what could I have done if it had not beenfor the goodness of that best of men, my noble cousin! His lordship nosooner heard of the widow's distress from me than he immediatelysettled one hundred and fifty pounds a year upon her during her life. "

"Well! how noble, how generous was that!" said Amelia. "I declare Ibegin to love your cousin, Mrs. Ellison. "

"And I declare if you do, " answered she, "there is no love lost, Iverily believe; if you had heard what I heard him say yesterday behindyour back---"

"Why, what did he say, Mrs. Ellison?" cries Amelia. 

"He said, " answered the other, "that you was the finest woman his eyesever beheld. --Ah! it is in vain to wish, and yet I cannot help wishingtoo. --O, Mrs. Booth! if you had been a single woman, I firmly believeI could have made you the happiest in the world. And I sincerely thinkI never saw a woman who deserved it more. "

"I am obliged to you, madam, " cries Amelia, "for your good opinion;but I really look on myself already as the happiest woman in theworld. Our circumstances, it is true, might have been a little morefortunate; but O, my dear Mrs. Ellison! what fortune can be put in thebalance with such a husband as mine?"

"I am afraid, dear madam, " answered Mrs. Ellison, "you would not holdthe scale fairly. --I acknowledge, indeed, Mr. Booth is a very prettygentleman; Heaven forbid I should endeavour to lessen him in youropinion; yet, if I was to be brought to confession, I could not helpsaying I see where the superiority lies, and that the men have morereason to envy Mr. Booth than the women have to envy his lady. "

"Nay, I will not bear this, " replied Amelia. "You will forfeit all mylove if you have the least disrespectful opinion of my husband. You donot know him, Mrs. Ellison; he is the best, the kindest, the worthiestof all his sex. I have observed, indeed, once or twice before, thatyou have taken some dislike to him. I cannot conceive for what reason. If he hath said or done anything to disoblige you, I am sure I canjustly acquit him of design. His extreme vivacity makes him sometimesa little too heedless; but, I am convinced, a more innocent heart, orone more void of offence, was never in a human bosom. "

"Nay, if you grow serious, " cries Mrs. Ellison, "I have done. How isit possible you should suspect I had taken any dislike to a man towhom I have always shewn so perfect a regard; but to say I think him, or almost any other man in the world, worthy of yourself, is notwithin my power with truth. And since you force the confession fromme, I declare, I think such beauty, such sense, and such goodnessunited, might aspire without vanity to the arms of any monarch inEurope. "

"Alas! my dear Mrs. Ellison, " answered Amelia, "do you think happinessand a crown so closely united? how many miserable women have lain inthe arms of kings?--Indeed, Mrs. Ellison, if I had all the merit youcompliment me with, I should think it all fully rewarded with such aman as, I thank Heaven, hath fallen to my lot; nor would I, upon mysoul, exchange that lot with any queen in the universe. "

"Well, there are enow of our sex, " said Mrs. Ellison, "to keep you incountenance; but I shall never forget the beginning of a song of Mr. Congreve's, that my husband was so fond of that he was always singingit:--

 Love's but a frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition join'd. 

Love without interest makes but an unsavoury dish, in my opinion. "

"And pray how long hath this been your opinion?" said Amelia, smiling. 

"Ever since I was born, " answered Mrs. Ellison; "at least, ever sinceI can remember. "

"And have you never, " said Amelia, "deviated from this generous way ofthinking?"

"Never once, " answered the other, "in the whole course of my life. "

"O, Mrs. Ellison! Mrs. Ellison!" cries Amelia; "why do we ever blamethose who are disingenuous in confessing their faults, when we are sooften ashamed to own ourselves in the right? Some women now, in mysituation, would be angry that you had not made confidantes of them;but I never desire to know more of the secrets of others than they arepleased to intrust me with. You must believe, however, that I shouldnot have given you these hints of my knowing all if I had disapprovedyour choice. On the contrary, I assure you I highly approve it. Thegentility he wants, it will be easily in your power to procure forhim; and as for his good qualities, I will myself be bound for them;and I make not the least doubt, as you have owned to me yourself thatyou have placed your affections on him, you will be one of thehappiest women in the world. "

"Upon my honour, " cries Mrs. Ellison very gravely, "I do notunderstand one word of what you mean. "

"Upon my honour, you astonish me, " said Amelia; "but I have done. "

"Nay then, " said the other, "I insist upon knowing what you mean. "

"Why, what can I mean, " answered Amelia, "but your marriage withserjeant Atkinson?"

"With serjeant Atkinson!" cries Mrs. Ellison eagerly, "my marriagewith a serjeant!"

"Well, with Mr. Atkinson, then, Captain Atkinson, if you please; forso I hope to see him. "

"And have you really no better opinion of me, " said Mrs. Ellison, "than to imagine me capable of such condescension? What have I done, dear Mrs. Booth, to deserve so low a place in your esteem? I findindeed, as Solomon says, _Women ought to watch the door of theirlips. _ How little did I imagine that a little harmless freedom indiscourse could persuade any one that I could entertain a seriousintention of disgracing my family! for of a very good family am Icome, I assure you, madam, though I now let lodgings. Few of mylodgers, I believe, ever came of a better. "

"If I have offended you, madam, " said Amelia, "I am very sorry, andask your pardon; but, besides what I heard from yourself, Mr. Boothtold me--"

"O yes!" answered Mrs. Ellison, "Mr. Booth, I know, is a very goodfriend of mine. Indeed, I know you better than to think it could beyour own suspicion. I am very much obliged to Mr. Booth truly. "

"Nay, " cries Amelia, "the serjeant himself is in fault; for Mr. Booth, I am positive, only repeated what he had from him. "

"Impudent coxcomb!" cries Mrs. Ellison. "I shall know how to keep suchfellows at a proper distance for the future--I will tell you, dearmadam, all that happened. When I rose in the morning I found thefellow waiting in the entry; and, as you had exprest some regard forhim as your foster-brother--nay, he is a very genteel fellow, that Imust own--I scolded my maid for not shewing him into my little back-room; and I then asked him to walk into the parlour. Could I haveimagined he would have construed such little civility into anencouragement?"

"Nay, I will have justice done to my poor brother too, " said Amelia. "I myself have seen you give him much greater encouragement thanthat. "

"Well, perhaps I have, " said Mrs. Ellison. "I have been always toounguarded in my speech, and can't answer for all I have said. " Shethen began to change her note, and, with an affected laugh, turned allinto ridicule; and soon afterwards the two ladies separated, both inapparent good humour; and Amelia went about those domestic offices inwhich Mr. Booth found her engaged at the end of the preceding chapter. 

Chapter iv. 

_Containing a very extraordinary incident. _

In the afternoon Mr. Booth, with Amelia and her children, went torefresh themselves in the Park. The conversation now turned on whatpast in the morning with Mrs. Ellison, the latter part of thedialogue, I mean, recorded in the last chapter. Amelia told herhusband that Mrs. Ellison so strongly denied all intentions to marrythe serjeant, that she had convinced her the poor fellow was under anerror, and had mistaken a little too much levity for seriousencouragement; and concluded by desiring Booth not to jest with herany more on that subject. 

Booth burst into a laugh at what his wife said. "My dear creature, "said he, "how easily is thy honesty and simplicity to be imposed on!how little dost thou guess at the art and falsehood of women! I knew ayoung lady who, against her father's consent, was married to a brotherofficer of mine; and, as I often used to walk with her (for I knew herfather intimately well), she would of her own accord take frequentoccasions to ridicule and vilify her husband (for so he was at thetime), and exprest great wonder and indignation at the report whichshe allowed to prevail that she should condescend ever to look at sucha fellow with any other design than of laughing at and despising him. The marriage afterwards became publicly owned, and the lady wasreputably brought to bed. Since which I have often seen her; nor hathshe ever appeared to be in the least ashamed of what she had formerlysaid, though, indeed, I believe she hates me heartily for having heardit. "

"But for what reason, " cries Amelia, "should she deny a fact, when shemust be so certain of our discovering it, and that immediately?"

"I can't answer what end she may propose, " said Booth. "Sometimes onewould be almost persuaded that there was a pleasure in lying itself. But this I am certain, that I would believe the honest serjeant on hisbare word sooner than I would fifty Mrs. Ellisons on oath. I amconvinced he would not have said what he did to me without thestrongest encouragement; and, I think, after what we have been bothwitnesses to, it requires no great confidence in his veracity to givehim an unlimited credit with regard to the lady's behaviour. "

To this Amelia made no reply; and they discoursed of other mattersduring the remainder of a very pleasant walk. 

When they returned home Amelia was surprized to find an appearance ofdisorder in her apartment. Several of the trinkets which his lordshiphad given the children lay about the room; and a suit of her owncloaths, which she had left in her drawers, was now displayed upon thebed. 

She immediately summoned her little girl up-stairs, who, as sheplainly perceived the moment she came up with a candle, had half criedher eyes out; for, though the girl had opened the door to them, as itwas almost dark, she had not taken any notice of this phenomenon inher countenance. 

The girl now fell down upon her knees and cried, "For Heaven's sake, madam, do not be angry with me. Indeed, I was left alone in the house;and, hearing somebody knock at the door, I opened it--I am surethinking no harm. I did not know but it might have been you, or mymaster, or Madam Ellison; and immediately as I did, the rogue burst inand ran directly up-stairs, and what he hath robbed you of I cannottell; but I am sure I could not help it, for he was a great swingingman with a pistol in each hand; and, if I had dared to call out, to besure he would have killed me. I am sure I was never in such a frightin my born days, whereof I am hardly come to myself yet. I believe heis somewhere about the house yet, for I never saw him go out. "

Amelia discovered some little alarm at this narrative, but much lessthan many other ladies would have shewn, for a fright is, I believe, sometimes laid hold of as an opportunity of disclosing several charmspeculiar to that occasion. And which, as Mr. Addison says of certainvirtues, Shun the day, and lie conceal'd In the smooth seasons and the calms of life. 

Booth, having opened the window, and summoned in two chairmen to hisassistance, proceeded to search the house; but all to no purpose; thethief was flown, though the poor girl, in her state of terror, had notseen him escape. 

But now a circumstance appeared which greatly surprized both Booth andAmelia; indeed, I believe it will have the same effect on the reader;and this was, that the thief had taken nothing with him. He had, indeed, tumbled over all Booth's and Amelia's cloaths and thechildren's toys, but had left all behind him. 

Amelia was scarce more pleased than astonished at this discovery, andre-examined the girl, assuring her of an absolute pardon if sheconfessed the truth, but grievously threatening her if she was foundguilty of the least falsehood. "As for a thief, child, " says she, "that is certainly not true; you have had somebody with you to whomyou have been shewing the things; therefore tell me plainly who itwas. "

The girl protested in the solemnest manner that she knew not theperson; but as to some circumstances she began to vary a little fromher first account, particularly as to the pistols, concerning which, being strictly examined by Booth, she at last cried--"To be sure, sir, he must have had pistols about him. " And instead of persisting in hishaving rushed in upon her, she now confessed that he had asked at thedoor for her master and mistress; and that at his desire she had shewnhim up-stairs, where he at first said he would stay till their returnhome; "but, indeed, " cried she, "I thought no harm, for he looked likea gentleman-like sort of man. And, indeed, so I thought he was for agood while, whereof he sat down and behaved himself very civilly, tillhe saw some of master's and miss's things upon the chest of drawers;whereof he cried, 'Hey-day! what's here?' and then he fell to tumblingabout the things like any mad. Then I thinks, thinks I to myself, tobe sure he is a highwayman, whereof I did not dare speak to him; for Iknew Madam Ellison and her maid was gone out, and what could such apoor girl as I do against a great strong man? and besides, thinks I, to be sure he hath got pistols about him, though I can't indeed, (thatI will not do for the world) take my Bible-oath that I saw any; yet tobe sure he would have soon pulled them out and shot me dead if I hadventured to have said anything to offend him. "

"I know not what to make of this, " cries Booth. "The poor girl, Iverily believe, speaks to the best of her knowledge. A thief it couldnot be, for he hath not taken the least thing; and it is plain he hadthe girl's watch in his hand. If it had been a bailiff, surely hewould have staid till our return. I can conceive no other from thegirl's account than that it must have been some madman. "

"O good sir!" said the girl, "now you mention it, if he was not athief, to be sure he must have been a madman: for indeed he looked, and behaved himself too, very much like a madman; for, now I rememberit, he talked to himself and said many strange kind of words that Idid not understand. Indeed, he looked altogether as I have seen peoplein Bedlam; besides, if he was not a madman, what good could it do himto throw the things all about the room in such a manner? and he saidsomething too about my master just before he went down-stairs. I wasin such a fright I cannot remember particularly, but I am sure theywere very ill words; he said he would do for him--I am sure he saidthat, and other wicked bad words too, if I could but think of them. "

"Upon my word, " said Booth, "this is the most probable conjecture; butstill I am puzzled to conceive who it should be, for I have no madmanto my knowledge of my acquaintance, and it seems, as the girl says, heasked for me. " He then turned to the child, and asked her if she wascertain of that circumstance. 

The poor maid, after a little hesitation, answered, "Indeed, sir, Icannot be very positive; for the fright he threw me into afterwardsdrove everything almost out of my mind. "

"Well, whatever he was, " cries Amelia, "I am glad the consequence isno worse; but let this be a warning to you, little Betty, and teachyou to take more care for the future. If ever you should be left alonein the house again, be sure to let no persons in without first lookingout at the window and seeing who they are. I promised not to chide youany more on this occasion, and I will keep my word; but it is veryplain you desired this person to walk up into our apartment, which wasvery wrong in our absence. "

Betty was going to answer, but Amelia would not let her, saying, "Don't attempt to excuse yourself; for I mortally hate a liar, and canforgive any fault sooner than falsehood. "

The poor girl then submitted; and now Amelia, with her assistance, began to replace all things in their order; and little Emily huggingher watch with great fondness, declared she would never part with itany more. 

Thus ended this odd adventure, not entirely to the satisfaction ofBooth; for, besides his curiosity, which, when thoroughly roused, is avery troublesome passion, he had, as is I believe usual with allpersons in his circumstances, several doubts and apprehensions of heknew not what. Indeed, fear is never more uneasy than when it doth notcertainly know its object; for on such occasions the mind is everemployed in raising a thousand bugbears and fantoms, much moredreadful than any realities, and, like children when they tell talesof hobgoblins, seems industrious in terrifying itself. 

Chapter v. 

_Containing some matters not very unnatural. _

Matters were scarce sooner reduced into order and decency than aviolent knocking was heard at the door, such indeed as would havepersuaded any one not accustomed to the sound that the madman wasreturned in the highest spring-tide of his fury. 

Instead, however, of so disagreeable an appearance, a very fine ladypresently came into the room, no other, indeed, than Mrs. Jamesherself; for she was resolved to shew Amelia, by the speedy return ofher visit, how unjust all her accusation had been of any failure inthe duties of friendship; she had, moreover, another reason toaccelerate this visit, and that was, to congratulate her friend on theevent of the duel between Colonel Bath and Mr. Booth. 

The lady had so well profited by Mrs. Booth's remonstrance, that shehad now no more of that stiffness and formality which she had worn ona former occasion. On the contrary, she now behaved with the utmostfreedom and good-humour, and made herself so very agreeable, thatAmelia was highly pleased and delighted with her company. 

An incident happened during this visit, that may appear to some tooinconsiderable in itself to be recorded; and yet, as it certainlyproduced a very strong consequence in the mind of Mr. Booth, we cannotprevail on ourselves to pass it by. 

Little Emily, who was present in the room while Mrs. James was there, as she stood near that lady happened to be playing with her watch, which she was so greatly overjoyed had escaped safe from the madman. Mrs. James, who exprest great fondness for the child, desired to seethe watch, which she commended as the prettiest of the kind she hadever seen. 

Amelia caught eager hold of this opportunity to spread the praises ofher benefactor. She presently acquainted Mrs. James with the donor'sname, and ran on with great encomiums on his lordship's goodness, andparticularly on his generosity. To which Mrs. James answered, "O!certainly, madam, his lordship hath universally the character of beingextremely generous-where he likes. "

In uttering these words she laid a very strong emphasis on the threelast monosyllables, accompanying them at the same time with a verysagacious look, a very significant leer, and a great flirt with herfan. 

The greatest genius the world hath ever produced observes, in one ofhis most excellent plays, that

 Trifles, light as air, Are to the jealous confirmations strong As proofs of holy writ. 

That Mr. Booth began to be possessed by this worst of fiends, admits, I think, no longer doubt; for at this speech of Mrs. James heimmediately turned pale, and, from a high degree of chearfulness, wasall on a sudden struck dumb, so that he spoke not another word tillMrs. James left the room. 

The moment that lady drove from the door Mrs. Ellison came up-stairs. She entered the room with a laugh, and very plentifully rallied bothBooth and Amelia concerning the madman, of which she had received afull account below-stairs; and at last asked Amelia if she could notguess who it was; but, without receiving an answer, went on, saying, "For my own part, I fancy it must be some lover of yours! some personthat hath seen you, and so is run mad with love. Indeed, I should notwonder if all mankind were to do the same. La! Mr. Booth, what makesyou grave? why, you are as melancholy as if you had been robbed inearnest. Upon my word, though, to be serious, it is a strange story, and, as the girl tells it, I know not what to make of it. Perhaps itmight be some rogue that intended to rob the house, and his heartfailed him; yet even that would be very extraordinary. What, did youlose nothing, madam?"

"Nothing at all, " answered Amelia. "He did not even take the child'swatch. "

"Well, captain, " cries Mrs. Ellison, "I hope you will take more careof the house to-morrow; for your lady and I shall leave you alone tothe care of it. Here, madam, " said she, "here is a present from mylord to us; here are two tickets for the masquerade at Ranelagh. Youwill be so charmed with it! It is the sweetest of all diversions. "

"May I be damned, madam, " cries Booth, "if my wife shall go thither. "

Mrs. Ellison stared at these words, and, indeed, so did Amelia; forthey were spoke with great vehemence. At length the former cried outwith an air of astonishment, "Not let your lady go to Ranelagh, sir?"

"No, madam, " cries Booth, "I will not let my wife go to Ranelagh. "

"You surprize me!" cries Mrs. Ellison. "Sure, you are not in earnest?"

"Indeed, madam, " returned he, "I am seriously in earnest. And, what ismore, I am convinced she would of her own accord refuse to go. "

"Now, madam, " said Mrs. Ellison, "you are to answer for yourself: andI will for your husband, that, if you have a desire to go, he will notrefuse you. "

"I hope, madam, " answered Amelia with great gravity, "I shall neverdesire to go to any place contrary to Mr. Booth's inclinations. "

"Did ever mortal hear the like?" said Mrs. Ellison; "you are enough tospoil the best husband in the universe. Inclinations! what, is a womanto be governed then by her husband's inclinations, though they arenever so unreasonable?"

"Pardon me, madam, " said Amelia; "I will not suppose Mr. Booth'sinclinations ever can be unreasonable. I am very much obliged to youfor the offer you have made me; but I beg you will not mention it anymore; for, after what Mr. Booth hath declared, if Ranelagh was aheaven upon earth, I would refuse to go to it. "

"I thank you, my dear, " cries Booth; "I do assure you, you oblige mebeyond my power of expression by what you say; but I will endeavour toshew you, both my sensibility of such goodness, and my lastinggratitude to it. "

"And pray, sir, " cries Mrs. Ellison, "what can be your objection toyour lady's going to a place which, I will venture to say, is asreputable as any about town, and which is frequented by the bestcompany?"

"Pardon me, good Mrs. Ellison, " said Booth: "as my wife is so good toacquiesce without knowing my reasons, I am not, I think, obliged toassign them to any other person. "

"Well, " cries Mrs. Ellison, "if I had been told this, I would not havebelieved it. What, refuse your lady an innocent diversion, and thattoo when you have not the pretence to say it would cost you afarthing?"

"Why will you say any more on this subject, dear madam?" cries Amelia. "All diversions are to me matters of such indifference, that the bareinclinations of any one for whom I have the least value would at alltimes turn the balance of mine. I am sure then, after what Mr. Boothhath said--"

"My dear, " cries he, taking her up hastily, "I sincerely ask yourpardon; I spoke inadvertently, and in a passion. I never once thoughtof controuling you, nor ever would. Nay, I said in the same breath youwould not go; and, upon my honour, I meant nothing more. "

"My dear, " said she, "you have no need of making any apology. I am notin the least offended, and am convinced you will never deny me what Ishall desire. "

"Try him, try him, madam, " cries Mrs. Ellison; "I will be judged byall the women in town if it is possible for a wife to ask her husbandanything more reasonable. You can't conceive what a sweet, charming, elegant, delicious place it is. Paradise itself can hardly be equal toit. "

"I beg you will excuse me, madam, " said Amelia; "nay, I entreat youwill ask me no more; for be assured I must and will refuse. Do let medesire you to give the ticket to poor Mrs. Bennet. I believe it wouldgreatly oblige her. "

"Pardon me, madam, " said Mrs. Ellison; "if you will not accept of it, I am not so distressed for want of company as to go to such a publicplace with all sort of people neither. I am always very glad to seeMrs. Bennet at my own house, because I look upon her as a very goodsort of woman; but I don't chuse to be seen with such people in publicplaces. "

Amelia exprest some little indignation at this last speech, which shedeclared to be entirely beyond her comprehension; and soon after, Mrs. Ellison, finding all her efforts to prevail on Amelia wereineffectual, took her leave, giving Mr. Booth two or three sarcasticalwords, and a much more sarcastical look, at her departure. 

Chapter vi. 

_A scene in which some ladies will possibly think Amelia's conductexceptionable. _

Booth and his wife being left alone, a solemn silence prevailed duringa few minutes. At last Amelia, who, though a good, was yet a humancreatures said to her husband, "Pray, my dear, do inform me what couldput you into so great a passion when Mrs. Ellison first offered me thetickets for this masquerade?"

"I had rather you would not ask me, " said Booth. "You have obliged megreatly in your ready acquiescence with my desire, and you will addgreatly to the obligation by not enquiring the reason of it. This youmay depend upon, Amelia, that your good and happiness are the greatobjects of all my wishes, and the end I propose in all my actions. This view alone could tempt me to refuse you anything, or to concealanything from you. "

"I will appeal to yourself, " answered she, "whether this be not usingme too much like a child, and whether I can possibly help being alittle offended at it?"

"Not in the least, " replied he; "I use you only with the tenderness ofa friend. I would only endeavour to conceal that from you which Ithink would give you uneasiness if you knew. These are called thepious frauds of friendship. "

"I detest all fraud, " says she; "and pious is too good an epithet tobe joined to so odious a word. You have often, you know, tried thesefrauds with no better effect than to teize and torment me. You cannotimagine, my dear, but that I must have a violent desire to know thereason of words which I own I never expected to have heard. And themore you have shown a reluctance to tell me, the more eagerly I havelonged to know. Nor can this be called a vain curiosity, since I seemso much interested in this affair. If after all this, you still insiston keeping the secret, I will convince you I am not ignorant of theduty of a wife by my obedience; but I cannot help telling you at thesame time you will make me one of the most miserable of women. "

"That is, " cries he, "in other words, my dear Emily, to say, I will becontented without the secret, but I am resolved to know it, nevertheless. "

"Nay, if you say so, " cries she, "I am convinced you will tell me. Positively, dear Billy, I must and will know. "

"Why, then, positively, " says Booth, "I will tell you. And I think Ishall then shew you that, however well you may know the duty of awife, I am not always able to behave like a husband. In a word then, my dear, the secret is no more than this; I am unwilling you shouldreceive any more presents from my lord. "

"Mercy upon me!" cries she, with all the marks of astonishment; "what!a masquerade ticket!"--

"Yes, my dear, " cries he; "that is, perhaps, the very worst and mostdangerous of all. Few men make presents of those tickets to ladieswithout intending to meet them at the place. And what do we know ofyour companion? To be sincere with you, I have not liked her behaviourfor some time. What might be the consequence of going with such awoman to such a place, to meet such a person, I tremble to think. Andnow, my dear, I have told you my reason of refusing her offer withsome little vehemence, and I think I need explain myself no farther. "

"You need not, indeed, sir, " answered she. "Good Heavens! did I everexpect to hear this? I can appeal to heaven, nay, I will appeal toyourself, Mr. Booth, if I have ever done anything to deserve such asuspicion. If ever any action of mine, nay, if ever any thought, hadstained the innocence of my soul, I could be contented. "

"How cruelly do you mistake me!" said Booth. "What suspicion have Iever shewn?"

"Can you ask it, " answered she, "after what you have just nowdeclared?"

"If I have declared any suspicion of you, " replied he, "or if ever Ientertained a thought leading that way, may the worst of evils thatever afflicted human nature attend me! I know the pure innocence ofthat tender bosom, I do know it, my lovely angel, and adore it. Thesnares which might be laid for that innocence were alone the cause ofmy apprehension. I feared what a wicked and voluptuous man, resolvedto sacrifice everything to the gratification of a sensual appetitewith the most delicious repast, might attempt. If ever I injured theunspotted whiteness of thy virtue in my imagination, may hell---"

"Do not terrify me, " cries she, interrupting him, "with suchimprecations. O, Mr. Booth! Mr. Booth! you must well know that awoman's virtue is always her sufficient guard. No husband, withoutsuspecting that, can suspect any danger from those snares you mention;and why, if you are liable to take such things into your head, may notyour suspicions fall on me as well as on any other? for sure nothingwas ever more unjust, I will not say ungrateful, than the suspicionswhich you have bestowed on his lordship. I do solemnly declare, in allthe times I have seen the poor man, he hath never once offered theleast forwardness. His behaviour hath been polite indeed, but ratherremarkably distant than otherwise. Particularly when we played atcards together. I don't remember he spoke ten words to me all theevening; and when I was at his house, though he shewed the greatestfondness imaginable to the children, he took so little notice of me, that a vain woman would have been very little pleased with him. And ifhe gave them many presents, he never offered me one. The first, indeed, which he ever offered me was that which you in that kindmanner forced me to refuse. "

"All this may be only the effect of art, " said Booth. "I am convincedhe doth, nay, I am convinced he must like you; and my good friendJames, who perfectly well knows the world, told me, that hislordship's character was that of the most profuse in his pleasureswith women; nay, what said Mrs. James this very evening? 'His lordshipis extremely generous--where he likes. ' I shall never forget the sneerwith which she spoke those last words. "

"I am convinced they injure him, " cries Amelia. "As for Mrs. James, she was always given to be censorious; I remarked it in her long ago, as her greatest fault. And for the colonel, I believe he may findfaults enow of this kind in his own bosom, without searching afterthem among his neighbours. I am sure he hath the most impudent look ofall the men I know; and I solemnly declare, the very last time he washere he put me out of countenance more than once. "

"Colonel James, " answered Booth, "may have his faults very probably. Ido not look upon him as a saint, nor do I believe he desires I should;but what interest could he have in abusing this lord's character tome? or why should I question his truth, when he assured me that mylord had never done an act of beneficence in his life but for the sakeof some woman whom he lusted after?"

"Then I myself can confute him, " replied Amelia: "for, besides hisservices to you, which, for the future, I shall wish to forget, andhis kindness to my little babes, how inconsistent is the characterwhich James gives of him with his lordship's behaviour to his ownnephew and niece, whose extreme fondness of their uncle sufficientlyproclaims his goodness to them? I need not mention all that I haveheard from Mrs. Ellison, every word of which I believe; for I havegreat reason to think, notwithstanding some little levity, which, togive her her due, she sees and condemns in herself, she is a very goodsort of woman. "

"Well, my dear, " cries Booth, "I may have been deceived, and Iheartily hope I am so; but in cases of this nature it is always goodto be on the surest side; for, as Congreve says, 'The wise too jealous are: fools too secure. '"

Here Amelia burst into tears, upon which Booth immediately caught herin his arms, and endeavoured to comfort her. Passion, however, for awhile obstructed her speech, and at last she cried, "O, Mr. Booth! canI bear to hear the word jealousy from your mouth?"

"Why, my love, " said Booth, "will you so fatally misunderstand mymeaning? how often shall I protest that it is not of you, but of him, that I was jealous? If you could look into my breast, and there readall the most secret thoughts of my heart, you would not see one faintidea to your dishonour. "

"I don't misunderstand you, my dear, " said she, "so much as I amafraid you misunderstand yourself. What is it you fear?--you mentionnot force, but snares. Is not this to confess, at least, that you havesome doubt of my understanding? do you then really imagine me so weakas to be cheated of my virtue?--am I to be deceived into an affectionfor a man before I perceive the least inward hint of my danger? No, Mr. Booth, believe me, a woman must be a fool indeed who can have inearnest such an excuse for her actions. I have not, I think, any veryhigh opinion of my judgment, but so far I shall rely upon it, that noman breathing could have any such designs as you have apprehendedwithout my immediately seeing them; and how I should then act I hopemy whole conduct to you hath sufficiently declared. "

"Well, my dear, " cries Booth, "I beg you will mention it no more; ifpossible, forget it. I hope, nay, I believe, I have been in the wrong;pray forgive me. "

"I will, I do forgive you, my dear, " said she, "if forgiveness be aproper word for one whom you have rather made miserable than angry;but let me entreat you to banish for ever all such suspicions fromyour mind. I hope Mrs. Ellison hath not discovered the real cause ofyour passion; but, poor woman, if she had, I am convinced it would gono farther. Oh, Heavens! I would not for the world it should reach hislordship's ears. You would lose the best friend that ever man had. Nay, I would not for his own sake, poor man; for I really believe itwould affect him greatly, and I must, I cannot help having an esteemfor so much goodness. An esteem which, by this dear hand, " said she, taking Booth's hand and kissing it, "no man alive shall ever obtain bymaking love to me. "

Booth caught her in his arms and tenderly embraced her. After whichthe reconciliation soon became complete; and Booth, in thecontemplation of his happiness, entirely buried all his jealousthoughts. 

Chapter vii. 

_A chapter in which there is much learning. _

The next morning, whilst Booth was gone to take his morning walk, Amelia went down into Mrs. Ellison's apartment, where, though she wasreceived with great civility, yet she found that lady was not at allpleased with Mr. Booth; and, by some hints which dropt from her inconversation, Amelia very greatly apprehended that Mrs. Ellison hadtoo much suspicion of her husband's real uneasiness; for that ladydeclared very openly she could not help perceiving what sort of manMr. Booth was: "And though I have the greatest regard for you, madam, in the world, " said she, "yet I think myself in honour obliged not toimpose on his lordship, who, I know very well, hath conceived hisgreatest liking to the captain on my telling him that he was the besthusband in the world. "

Amelia's fears gave her much disturbance, and when her husbandreturned she acquainted him with them; upon which occasion, as it wasnatural, she resumed a little the topic of their former discourse, norcould she help casting, though in very gentle terms, some slight blameon Booth for having entertained a suspicion which, she said, might inits consequence very possibly prove their ruin, and occasion the lossof his lordship's friendship. 

Booth became highly affected with what his wife said, and the more, ashe had just received a note from Colonel James, informing him that thecolonel had heard of a vacant company in the regiment which Booth hadmentioned to him, and that he had been with his lordship about it, whohad promised to use his utmost interest to obtain him the command. 

The poor man now exprest the utmost concern for his yesterday'sbehaviour, said "he believed the devil had taken possession of him, "and concluded with crying out, "Sure I was born, my dearest creature, to be your torment. "

Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forborewhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, withall her power, to comfort him. "If you will give me leave to offer myadvice, my dearest soul, " said she, "I think all might yet beremedied. I think you know me too well to suspect that the desire ofdiversion should induce me to mention what I am now going to propose;and in that confidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's andMrs. Ellison's offer, and go to the masquerade. No matter how littlewhile I stay there; if you desire it I will not be an hour from you. Ican make an hundred excuses to come home, or tell a real truth, andsay I am tired with the place. The bare going will cure everything. "

Amelia had no sooner done speaking than Booth immediately approved heradvice, and readily gave his consent. He could not, however, helpsaying, that the shorter her stay was there, the more agreeable itwould be to him; "for you know, my dear, " said he, "I would neverwillingly be a moment out of your sight. "

In the afternoon Amelia sent to invite Mrs. Ellison to a dish of tea;and Booth undertook to laugh off all that had passed yesterday, inwhich attempt the abundant good humour of that lady gave him greathopes of success. 

Mrs. Bennet came that afternoon to make a visit, and was almost anhour with Booth and Amelia before the entry of Mrs. Ellison. 

Mr. Booth had hitherto rather disliked this young lady, and hadwondered at the pleasure which Amelia declared she took in hercompany. This afternoon, however, he changed his opinion, and likedher almost as much as his wife had done. She did indeed behave at thistime with more than ordinary gaiety; and good humour gave a glow toher countenance that set off her features, which were very pretty, tothe best advantage, and lessened the deadness that had usuallyappeared in her complexion. 

But if Booth was now pleased with Mrs. Bennet, Amelia was still morepleased with her than ever. For, when their discourse turned on love, Amelia discovered that her new friend had all the same sentiments onthat subject with herself. In the course of their conversation Boothgave Mrs. Bennet a hint of wishing her a good husband, upon which boththe ladies declaimed against second marriages with equal vehemence. 

Upon this occasion Booth and his wife discovered a talent in theirvisitant to which they had been before entirely strangers, and forwhich they both greatly admired her, and this was, that the lady was agood scholar, in which, indeed, she had the advantage of poor Amelia, whose reading was confined to English plays and poetry; besides which, I think she had conversed only with the divinity of the great andlearned Dr Barrow, and with the histories of the excellent BishopBurnet. 

Amelia delivered herself on the subject of second marriages with mucheloquence and great good sense; but when Mrs. Bennet came to give heropinion she spoke in the following manner: "I shall not enter into thequestion concerning the legality of bigamy. Our laws certainly allowit, and so, I think, doth our religion. We are now debating only onthe decency of it, and in this light I own myself as strenuous anadvocate against it as any Roman matron would have been in those agesof the commonwealth when it was held to be infamous. For my own part, how great a paradox soever my opinion may seem, I solemnly declare, Isee but little difference between having two husbands at one time andat several times; and of this I am very confident, that the samedegree of love for a first husband which preserves a woman in the onecase will preserve her in the other. There is one argument which Iscarce know how to deliver before you, sir; but--if a woman hath livedwith her first husband without having children, I think itunpardonable in her to carry barrenness into a second family. On thecontrary, if she hath children by her first husband, to give them asecond father is still more unpardonable. "

"But suppose, madam, " cries Booth, interrupting her with a smile, "sheshould have had children by her first husband, and have lost them?"

"That is a case, " answered she, with a sigh, "which I did not desireto think of, and I must own it the most favourable light in which asecond marriage can be seen. But the Scriptures, as Petrarch observes, rather suffer them than commend them; and St Jerom speaks against themwith the utmost bitterness. "--"I remember, " cries Booth (who waswilling either to shew his learning, or to draw out the lady's), "avery wise law of Charondas, the famous lawgiver of Thurium, by whichmen who married a second time were removed from all public councils;for it was scarce reasonable to suppose that he who was so great afool in his own family should be wise in public affairs. And thoughsecond marriages were permitted among the Romans, yet they were at thesame time discouraged, and those Roman widows who refused them wereheld in high esteem, and honoured with what Valerius Maximus calls theCorona Pudicitiae. In the noble family of Camilli there was not, inmany ages, a single instance of this, which Martial calls adultery:

 _Quae toties nubit, non nubit; adultera lege est. "_

"True, sir, " says Mrs. Bennet, "and Virgil calls this a violation ofchastity, and makes Dido speak of it with the utmost detestation:

 _Sed mihi vel Tellus optem prius ima dehiscat Vel Pater omnipotens adigat me fulmine ad umbras, Pallentes umbras Erebi, noctemque profundam, Ante, fudor, quam te violo, aut tua jura resolvo. Ille meos, primum qui me sibi junxit, amores, Ille habeat semper secum, servetque Sepulchro. "_

She repeated these lines with so strong an emphasis, that she almostfrightened Amelia out of her wits, and not a little staggered Booth, who was himself no contemptible scholar. He expressed great admirationof the lady's learning; upon which she said it was all the fortunegiven her by her father, and all the dower left her by her husband;"and sometimes, " said she, "I am inclined to think I enjoy morepleasure from it than if they had bestowed on me what the world wouldin general call more valuable. "--She then took occasion, from thesurprize which Booth had affected to conceive at her repeating Latinwith so good a grace, to comment on that great absurdity (for so shetermed it) of excluding women from learning; for which they wereequally qualified with the men, and in which so many had made sonotable a proficiency; for a proof of which she mentioned MadamDacier, and many others. 

Though both Booth and Amelia outwardly concurred with her sentiments, it may be a question whether they did not assent rather out ofcomplaisance than from their real judgment. 

Chapter viii. 

_Containing some unaccountable behaviour in Mrs. Ellison. _

Mrs. Ellison made her entrance at the end of the preceding discourse. At her first appearance she put on an unusual degree of formality andreserve; but when Amelia had acquainted her that she designed toaccept the favour intended her, she soon began to alter the gravity ofher muscles, and presently fell in with that ridicule which Booththought proper to throw on his yesterday's behaviour. 

The conversation now became very lively and pleasant, in which Boothhaving mentioned the discourse that passed in the last chapter, andhaving greatly complimented Mrs. Bennet's speech on that occasion, Mrs. Ellison, who was as strenuous an advocate on the other side, began to rally that lady extremely, declaring it was a certain signshe intended to marry again soon. "Married ladies, " cries she, "Ibelieve, sometimes think themselves in earnest in such declarations, though they are oftener perhaps meant as compliments to theirhusbands; but, when widows exclaim loudly against second marriages, Iwould always lay a wager that the man, if not the wedding-day, isabsolutely fixed on. "

Mrs. Bennet made very little answer to this sarcasm. Indeed, she hadscarce opened her lips from the time of Mrs. Ellison's coming into theroom, and had grown particularly grave at the mention of themasquerade. Amelia imputed this to her being left out of the party, amatter which is often no small mortification to human pride, and in awhisper asked Mrs. Ellison if she could not procure a third ticket, towhich she received an absolute negative. 

During the whole time of Mrs. Bennet's stay, which was above an hourafterwards, she remained perfectly silent, and looked extremelymelancholy. This made Amelia very uneasy, as she concluded she hadguessed the cause of her vexation. In which opinion she was the moreconfirmed from certain looks of no very pleasant kind which Mrs. Bennet now and then cast on Mrs. Ellison, and the more than ordinaryconcern that appeared in the former lady's countenance whenever themasquerade was mentioned, and which; unfortunately, was the principaltopic of their discourse; for Mrs. Ellison gave a very elaboratedescription of the extreme beauty of the place and elegance of thediversion. 

When Mrs. Bennet was departed, Amelia could not help again solicitingMrs. Ellison for another ticket, declaring she was certain Mrs. Bennethad a great inclination to go with them; but Mrs. Ellison againexcused herself from asking it of his lordship. "Besides, madam, " saysshe, "if I would go thither with Mrs. Bennet, which, I own to you, Idon't chuse, as she is a person whom _nobody knows_, I very muchdoubt whether she herself would like it; for she is a woman of a veryunaccountable turn. All her delight lies in books; and as for publicdiversions, I have heard her often declare her abhorrence of them. "

"What then, " said Amelia, "could occasion all that gravity from themoment the masquerade was mentioned?"

"As to that, " answered the other, "there is no guessing. You have seenher altogether as grave before now. She hath had these fits of gravityat times ever since the death of her husband. "

"Poor creature!" cries Amelia; "I heartily pity her, for she mustcertainly suffer a great deal on these occasions. I declare I havetaken a strange fancy to her. "

"Perhaps you would not like her so well if you knew her thoroughly, "answered Mrs. Ellison. --"She is, upon the whole, but of a whimsicaltemper; and, if you will take my opinion, you should not cultivate toomuch intimacy with her. I know you will never mention what I say; butshe is like some pictures, which please best at a distance. "

Amelia did not seem to agree with these sentiments, and she greatlyimportuned Mrs. Ellison to be more explicit, but to no purpose; shecontinued to give only dark hints to Mrs. Bennet's disadvantage; and, if ever she let drop something a little too harsh, she failed notimmediately to contradict herself by throwing some gentlecommendations into the other scale; so that her conduct appearedutterly unaccountable to Amelia, and, upon the whole, she knew notwhether to conclude Mrs. Ellison to be a friend or enemy to Mrs. Bennet. 

During this latter conversation Booth was not in the room, for he hadbeen summoned down-stairs by the serjeant, who came to him with newsfrom Murphy, whom he had met that evening, and who assured theserjeant that, if he was desirous of recovering the debt which he hadbefore pretended to have on Booth, he might shortly have anopportunity, for that there was to be a very strong petition to theboard the next time they sat. Murphy said further that he need notfear having his money, for that, to his certain knowledge, the captainhad several things of great value, and even his children had goldwatches. 

This greatly alarmed Booth, and still more when the serjeant reportedto him, from Murphy, that all these things had been seen in hispossession within a day last past. He now plainly perceived, as hethought, that Murphy himself, or one of his emissaries, had been thesupposed madman; and he now very well accounted to himself, in his ownmind, for all that had happened, conceiving that the design was toexamine into the state of his effects, and to try whether it was worthhis creditors' while to plunder him by law. 

At his return to his apartment he communicated what he had heard toAmelia and Mrs. Ellison, not disguising his apprehensions of theenemy's intentions; but Mrs. Ellison endeavoured to laugh him out ofhis fears, calling him faint-hearted, and assuring him he might dependon her lawyer. "Till you hear from him, " said she, "you may restentirely contented: for, take my word for it, no danger can happen toyou of which you will not be timely apprized by him. And as for thefellow that had the impudence to come into your room, if he was senton such an errand as you mention, I heartily wish I had been at home;I would have secured him safe with a constable, and have carried himdirectly before justice Thresher. I know the justice is an enemy tobailiffs on his own account. "

This heartening speech a little roused the courage of Booth, andsomewhat comforted Amelia, though the spirits of both had been toomuch hurried to suffer them either to give or receive muchentertainment that evening; which Mrs. Ellison perceiving soon tookher leave, and left this unhappy couple to seek relief from sleep, that powerful friend to the distrest, though, like other powerfulfriends, he is not always ready to give his assistance to those whowant it most. 

Chapter ix. 

_Containing a very strange incident. _

When the husband and wife were alone they again talked over the newswhich the serjeant had brought; on which occasion Amelia did all shecould to conceal her own fears, and to quiet those of her husband. Atlast she turned the conversation to another subject, and poor Mrs. Bennet was brought on the carpet. "I should be sorry, " cries Amelia, "to find I had conceived an affection for a bad woman; and yet I beginto fear Mrs. Ellison knows something of her more than she cares todiscover; why else should she be unwilling to be seen with her inpublic? Besides, I have observed that Mrs. Ellison hath been alwaysbackward to introduce her to me, nor would ever bring her to myapartment, though I have often desired her. Nay, she hath given mefrequent hints not to cultivate the acquaintance. What do you think, my dear? I should be very sorry to contract an intimacy with a wickedperson. "

"Nay, my dear, " cries Booth. "I know no more of her, nor indeed hardlyso much as yourself. But this I think, that if Mrs. Ellison knows anyreason why she should not have introduced Mrs. Bennet into yourcompany, she was very much in the wrong in introducing her into it. "

In discourses of this kind they past the remainder of the evening. Inthe morning Booth rose early, and, going down-stairs, received fromlittle Betty a sealed note, which contained the following words:

 Beware, beware, beware; For I apprehend a dreadful snare Is laid for virtuous innocence, Under a friend's false pretence. 

Booth immediately enquired of the girl who brought this note? and wastold it came by a chair-man, who, having delivered it, departedwithout saying a word. 

He was extremely staggered at what he read, and presently referred theadvice to the same affair on which he had received those hints fromAtkinson the preceding evening; but when he came to consider the wordsmore maturely he could not so well reconcile the two last lines ofthis poetical epistle, if it may be so called, with any danger whichthe law gave him reason to apprehend. Mr. Murphy and his gang couldnot well be said to attack either his innocence or virtue; nor didthey attack him under any colour or pretence of friendship. 

After much deliberation on this matter a very strange suspicion cameinto his head; and this was, that he was betrayed by Mrs. Ellison. Hehad, for some time, conceived no very high opinion of that goodgentlewoman, and he now began to suspect that she was bribed to betrayhim. By this means he thought he could best account for the strangeappearance of the supposed madman. And when this conceit once hadbirth in his mind, several circumstances nourished and improved it. Among these were her jocose behaviour and raillery on that occasion, and her attempt to ridicule his fears from the message which theserjeant had brought him. 

This suspicion was indeed preposterous, and not at all warranted by, or even consistent with, the character and whole behaviour of Mrs. Ellison, but it was the only one which at that time suggested itselfto his mind; and, however blameable it might be, it was certainly notunnatural in him to entertain it; for so great a torment is anxiety tothe human mind, that we always endeavour to relieve ourselves from itby guesses, however doubtful or uncertain; on all which occasions, dislike and hatred are the surest guides to lead our suspicion to itsobject. 

When Amelia rose to breakfast, Booth produced the note which he hadreceived, saying, "My dear, you have so often blamed me for keepingsecrets from you, and I have so often, indeed, endeavoured to concealsecrets of this kind from you with such ill success, that I think Ishall never more attempt it. " Amelia read the letter hastily, andseemed not a little discomposed; then, turning to Booth with a verydisconsolate countenance, she said, "Sure fortune takes a delight interrifying us! what can be the meaning of this?" Then, fixing her eyesattentively on the paper, she perused it for some time, till Boothcried, "How is it possible, my Emily, you can read such stuffpatiently? the verses are certainly as bad as ever were written. "--"Iwas trying, my dear, " answered she, "to recollect the hand; for I willtake my oath I have seen it before, and that very lately;" andsuddenly she cried out, with great emotion, "I remember it perfectlynow; it is Mrs. Bennet's hand. Mrs. Ellison shewed me a letter fromher but a day or two ago. It is a very remarkable hand, and I ampositive it is hers. "

"If it be hers, " cries Booth, "what can she possibly mean by thelatter part of her caution? sure Mrs. Ellison hath no intention tobetray us. "

"I know not what she means, " answered Amelia, "but I am resolved toknow immediately, for I am certain of the hand. By the greatest luckin the world, she told me yesterday where her lodgings were, when shepressed me exceedingly to come and see her. She lives but a very fewdoors from us, and I will go to her this moment. "

Booth made not the least objection to his wife's design. His curiositywas, indeed, as great as hers, and so was his impatience to satisfyit, though he mentioned not this his impatience to Amelia; and perhapsit had been well for him if he had. 

Amelia, therefore, presently equipped herself in her walking dress, and, leaving her children to the care of her husband, made allpossible haste to Mrs. Bennet's lodgings. 

Amelia waited near five minutes at Mrs. Bennet's door before any onecame to open it; at length a maid servant appeared, who, being askedif Mrs. Bennet was at home, answered, with some confusion in hercountenance, that she did not know; "but, madam, " said she, "if youwill send up your name, I will go and see. " Amelia then told her name, and the wench, after staying a considerable time, returned andacquainted her that Mrs. Bennet was at home. She was then ushered intoa parlour and told that the lady would wait on her presently. 

In this parlour Amelia cooled her heels, as the phrase is, near aquarter of an hour. She seemed, indeed, at this time, in the miserablesituation of one of those poor wretches who make their morning visitsto the great to solicit favours, or perhaps to solicit the payment ofa debt, for both are alike treated as beggars, and the lattersometimes considered as the more troublesome beggars of the two. 

During her stay here, Amelia observed the house to be in greatconfusion; a great bustle was heard above-stairs, and the maid ran upand down several times in a great hurry. 

At length Mrs. Bennet herself came in. She was greatly disordered inher looks, and had, as the women call it, huddled on her cloaths inmuch haste; for, in truth, she was in bed when Amelia first came. Ofthis fact she informed her, as the only apology she could make forhaving caused her to wait so long for her company. 

Amelia very readily accepted her apology, but asked her with a smile, if these early hours were usual with her? Mrs. Bennet turned as red asscarlet at the question, and answered, "No, indeed, dear madam. I amfor the most part a very early riser; but I happened accidentally tosit up very late last night. I am sure I had little expectation ofyour intending me such a favour this morning. "

Amelia, looking very steadfastly at her, said, "Is it possible, madam, you should think such a note as this would raise no curiosity in me?"She then gave her the note, asking her if she did not know the hand. 

Mrs. Bennet appeared in the utmost surprize and confusion at thisinstant. Indeed, if Amelia had conceived but the slightest suspicionbefore, the behaviour of the lady would have been a sufficientconfirmation to her of the truth. She waited not, therefore, for ananswer, which, indeed, the other seemed in no haste to give, butconjured her in the most earnest manner to explain to her the meaningof so extraordinary an act of friendship; "for so, " said she, "Iesteem it, being convinced you must have sufficient reason for thewarning you have given me. "

Mrs. Bennet, after some hesitation, answered, "I need not, I believe, tell you how much I am surprized at what you have shewn me; and thechief reason of my surprize is, how you came to discover my hand. Sure, madam, you have not shewn it to Mrs. Ellison?"

Amelia declared she had not, but desired she would question her nofarther. "What signifies how I discovered it, since your hand itcertainly is?"

"I own it is, " cries Mrs. Bennet, recovering her spirits, "and sinceyou have not shewn it to that woman I am satisfied. I begin to guessnow whence you might have your information; but no matter; I wish Ihad never done anything of which I ought to be more ashamed. No onecan, I think, justly accuse me of a crime on that account; and I thankHeaven my shame will never be directed by the false opinion of theworld. Perhaps it was wrong to shew my letter, but when I consider allcircumstances I can forgive it. "

"Since you have guessed the truth, " said Amelia, "I am not obliged todeny it. She, indeed, shewed me your letter, but I am sure you havenot the least reason to be ashamed of it. On the contrary, yourbehaviour on so melancholy an occasion was highly praiseworthy; andyour bearing up under such afflictions as the loss of a husband in sodreadful a situation was truly great and heroical. "

"So Mrs. Ellison then hath shewn you my letter?" cries Mrs. Benneteagerly. 

"Why, did not you guess it yourself?" answered Amelia; "otherwise I amsure I have betrayed my honour in mentioning it. I hope you have notdrawn me inadvertently into any breach of my promise. Did you notassert, and that with an absolute certainty, that you knew she hadshewn me your letter, and that you was not angry with her for sodoing?"

"I am so confused, " replied Mrs. Bennet, "that I scarce know what Isay; yes, yes, I remember I did say so--I wish I had no greater reasonto be angry with her than that. "

"For Heaven's sake, " cries Amelia, "do not delay my request anylonger; what you say now greatly increases my curiosity, and my mindwill be on the rack till you discover your whole meaning; for I ammore and more convinced that something of the utmost importance wasthe purport of your message. "

"Of the utmost importance, indeed, " cries Mrs. Bennet; "at least youwill own my apprehensions were sufficiently well founded. O graciousHeaven! how happy shall I think myself if I should have proved yourpreservation! I will, indeed, explain my meaning; but, in order todisclose all my fears in their just colours, I must unfold my wholehistory to you. Can you have patience, madam, to listen to the storyof the most unfortunate of women?"

Amelia assured her of the highest attention, and Mrs. Bennet soonafter began to relate what is written in the seventh book of thishistory. 

BOOK VII. 

Chapter i. 

_A very short chapter, and consequently requiring no preface. _

Mrs. Bennet having fastened the door, and both the ladies having takentheir places, she once or twice offered to speak, when passion stopther utterance; and, after a minute's silence, she burst into a floodof tears. Upon which Amelia, expressing the utmost tenderness for her, as well by her look as by her accent, cried, "What can be the reason, dear madam, of all this emotion?" "O, Mrs. Booth!" answered she, "Ifind I have undertaken what I am not able to perform. You would notwonder at my emotion if you knew you had an adulteress and a murderernow standing before you. "

Amelia turned pale as death at these words, which Mrs. Bennetobserving, collected all the force she was able, and, a littlecomposing her countenance, cried, "I see, madam, I have terrified youwith such dreadful words; but I hope you will not think me guilty ofthese crimes in the blackest degree. " "Guilty!" cries Amelia. "OHeavens!" "I believe, indeed, your candour, " continued Mrs. Bennet, "will be readier to acquit me than I am to acquit myself. Indiscretion, at least, the highest, most unpardonable indiscretion, Ishall always lay to ray own charge: and, when I reflect on the fatalconsequences, I can never, never forgive myself. "Here she again beganto lament in so bitter a manner, that Amelia endeavoured, as much asshe could (for she was herself greatly shocked), to soothe and comforther; telling her that, if indiscretion was her highest crime, theunhappy consequences made her rather an unfortunate than a guiltyperson; and concluded by saying--"Indeed, madam, you have raised mycuriosity to the highest pitch, and I beg you will proceed with yourstory. "

Mrs. Bennet then seemed a second time going to begin her relation, when she cried out, "I would, if possible, tire you with no more of myunfortunate life than just with that part which leads to a catastrophein which I think you may yourself be interested; but I protest I am ata loss where to begin. "

"Begin wherever you please, dear madam, " cries Amelia; "but I beg youwill consider my impatience. " "I do consider it, " answered Mrs. Bennet; "and therefore would begin with that part of my story whichleads directly to what concerns yourself; for how, indeed, should mylife produce anything worthy your notice?" "Do not say so, madam, "cries Amelia; "I assure you I have long suspected there were some veryremarkable incidents in your life, and have only wanted an opportunityto impart to you my desire of hearing them: I beg, therefore, youwould make no more apologies. " "I will not, madam, " cries Mrs. Bennet, "and yet I would avoid anything trivial; though, indeed, in stories ofdistress, especially where love is concerned, many little incidentsmay appear trivial to those who have never felt the passion, which, todelicate minds, are the most interesting part of the whole. " "Nay, but, dear madam, " cries Amelia, "this is all preface. "

"Well, madam, " answered Mrs. Bennet, "I will consider yourimpatience. " She then rallied all her spirits in the best manner shecould, and began as is written in the next chapter. 

And here possibly the reader will blame Mrs. Bennet for taking herstory so far back, and relating so much of her life in which Ameliahad no concern; but, in truth, she was desirous of inculcating a goodopinion of herself, from recounting those transactions where herconduct was unexceptionable, before she came to the more dangerous andsuspicious part of her character. This I really suppose to have beenher intention; for to sacrifice the time and patience of Amelia atsuch a season to the mere love of talking of herself would have beenas unpardonable in her as the bearing it was in Amelia a proof of themost perfect good breeding. 

Chapter ii. 

_The beginning of Mrs. Bennet's history. _

"I was the younger of two daughters of a clergyman in Essex; of one inwhose praise if I should indulge my fond heart in speaking, I think myinvention could not outgo the reality. He was indeed well worthy ofthe cloth he wore; and that, I think, is the highest character a mancan obtain. 

"During the first part of my life, even till I reached my sixteenthyear, I can recollect nothing to relate to you. All was one longserene day, in looking back upon which, as when we cast our eyes on acalm sea, no object arises to my view. All appears one scene ofhappiness and tranquillity. 

"On the day, then, when I became sixteen years old, must I begin myhistory; for on that day I first tasted the bitterness of sorrow. 

"My father, besides those prescribed by our religion, kept fivefestivals every year. These were on his wedding-day, and on thebirthday of each of his little family; on these occasions he used toinvite two or three neighbours to his house, and to indulge himself, as he said, in great excess; for so he called drinking a pint of verysmall punch; and, indeed, it might appear excess to one who on otherdays rarely tasted any liquor stronger than small beer. 

"Upon my unfortunate birthday, then, when we were all in a high degreeof mirth, my mother having left the room after dinner, and stayingaway pretty long, my father sent me to see for her. I went accordingto his orders; but, though I searched the whole house and called afterher without doors, I could neither see nor hear her. I was a littlealarmed at this (though far from suspecting any great mischief hadbefallen her), and ran back to acquaint my father, who answered coolly(for he was a man of the calmest temper), 'Very well, my dear, Isuppose she is not gone far, and will be here immediately. ' Half anhour or more past after this, when, she not returning, my fatherhimself expressed some surprize at her stay; declaring it must be somematter of importance which could detain her at that time from hercompany. His surprize now encreased every minute, and he began to growuneasy, and to shew sufficient symptoms in his countenance of what hefelt within. He then despatched the servant-maid to enquire after hermistress in the parish, but waited not her return; for she was scarcegone out of doors before he begged leave of his guests to go himselfon the same errand. The company now all broke up, and attended myfather, all endeavouring to give him hopes that no mischief hadhappened. They searched the whole parish, but in vain; they couldneither see my mother, nor hear any news of her. My father returnedhome in a state little short of distraction. His friends in vainattempted to administer either advice or comfort; he threw himself onthe floor in the most bitter agonies of despair. 

"Whilst he lay in this condition, my sister and myself lying by him, all equally, I believe, and completely miserable, our old servant-maidcame into the room and cried out, her mind misgave her that she knewwhere her mistress was. Upon these words, my father sprung from thefloor, and asked her eagerly, where? But oh! Mrs. Booth, how can Idescribe the particulars of a scene to you, the remembrance of whichchills my blood with horror, and which the agonies of my mind, when itpast, made all a scene of confusion! The fact then in short was this:my mother, who was a most indulgent mistress to one servant, which wasall we kept, was unwilling, I suppose, to disturb her at her dinner, and therefore went herself to fill her tea-kettle at a well, intowhich, stretching herself too far, as we imagine, the water then beingvery low, she fell with the tea-kettle in her hand. The missing thisgave the poor old wretch the first hint of her suspicion, which, uponexamination, was found to be too well grounded. 

"What we all suffered on this occasion may more easily be felt thandescribed. "---"It may indeed, " answered Amelia, "and I am so sensibleof it, that, unless you have a mind to see me faint before your face, I beg you will order me something; a glass of water, if you please. "Mrs. Bennet immediately complied with her friend's request; a glassof water was brought, and some hartshorn drops infused into it; whichAmelia having drank off, declared she found herself much better; andthen Mrs. Bennet proceeded thus:--"I will not dwell on a scene which Isee hath already so much affected your tender heart, and which is asdisagreeable to me to relate as it can be to you to hear. I willtherefore only mention to you the behaviour of my father on thisoccasion, which was indeed becoming a philosopher and a Christiandivine. On the day after my mother's funeral he sent for my sister andmyself into his room, where, after many caresses and everydemonstration of fatherly tenderness as well in silence as in words, he began to exhort us to bear with patience the great calamity thathad befallen us; saying, 'That as every human accident, how terriblesoever, must happen to us by divine permission at least, a due senseof our duty to our great Creator must teach us an absolute submissionto his will. Not only religion, but common sense, must teach us this;for oh! my dear children, ' cries he, 'how vain is all resistance, allrepining! could tears wash back again my angel from the grave, Ishould drain all the juices of my body through my eyes; but oh, couldwe fill up that cursed well with our tears, how fruitless would be allour sorrow!'--I think I repeat you his very words; for the impressionthey made on me is never to be obliterated. He then proceeded tocomfort us with the chearful thought that the loss was entirely ourown, and that my mother was greatly a gainer by the accident which welamented. 'I have a wife, ' cries he, 'my children, and you have amother, now amongst the heavenly choir; how selfish therefore is allour grief! how cruel to her are all our wishes!' In this manner hetalked to us near half an hour, though I must frankly own to you hisarguments had not the immediate good effect on us which they deserved, for we retired from him very little the better for his exhortations;however, they became every day more and more forcible upon ourrecollection; indeed, they were greatly strengthened by his example;for in this, as in all other instances, he practised the doctrineswhich he taught. From this day he never mentioned my mother more, andsoon after recovered his usual chearfulness in public; though I havereason to think he paid many a bitter sigh in private to thatremembrance which neither philosophy nor Christianity could expunge. 

"My father's advice, enforced by his example, together with thekindness of some of our friends, assisted by that ablest of all themental physicians, Time, in a few months pretty well restored mytranquillity, when fortune made a second attack on my quiet. Mysister, whom I dearly loved, and who as warmly returned my affection, had fallen into an ill state of health some time before the fatalaccident which I have related. She was indeed at that time so muchbetter, that we had great hopes of her perfect recovery; but thedisorders of her mind on that dreadful occasion so affected her body, that she presently relapsed to her former declining state, and thencegrew continually worse and worse, till, after a decay of near sevenmonths, she followed my poor mother to the grave. 

"I will not tire you, dear madam, with repetitions of grief; I willonly mention two observations which have occurred to me fromreflections on the two losses I have mentioned. The first is, that amind once violently hurt grows, as it were, callous to any futureimpressions of grief, and is never capable of feeling the same pangs asecond time. The other observation is, that the arrows of fortune, aswell as all others, derive their force from the velocity with whichthey are discharged; for, when they approach you by slow andperceptible degrees, they have but very little power to do youmischief. 

"The truth of these observations I experienced, not only in my ownheart, but in the behaviour of my father, whose philosophy seemed togain a complete triumph over this latter calamity. 

"Our family was now reduced to two, and my father grew extremely fondof me, as if he had now conferred an entire stock of affection on me, that had before been divided. His words, indeed, testified no less, for he daily called me his only darling, his whole comfort, his all. He committed the whole charge of his house to my care, and gave me thename of his little housekeeper, an appellation of which I was then asproud as any minister of state can be of his titles. But, though I wasvery industrious in the discharge of my occupation, I did not, however, neglect my studies, in which I had made so great aproficiency, that I was become a pretty good mistress of the Latinlanguage, and had made some progress in the Greek. I believe, madam, Ihave formerly acquainted you, that learning was the chief estate Iinherited of my father, in which he had instructed me from my earliestyouth. 

"The kindness of this good man had at length wiped off the remembranceof all losses; and I during two years led a life of greattranquillity, I think I might almost say of perfect happiness. 

"I was now. In the nineteenth year of my age, when my father's goodfortune removed us from the county of Essex into Hampshire, where aliving was conferred on him by one of his old school-fellows, of twicethe value of what he was before possessed of. 

"His predecessor in this new living had died in very indifferentcircumstances, and had left behind him a widow with two smallchildren. My father, therefore, who, with great economy, had a mostgenerous soul, bought the whole furniture of the parsonage-house at avery high price; some of it, indeed, he would have wanted; for, thoughour little habitation in Essex was most completely furnished, yet itbore no proportion to the largeness of that house in which he was nowto dwell. 

"His motive, however, to the purchase was, I am convinced, solelygenerosity; which appeared sufficiently by the price he gave, and maybe farther inforced by the kindness he shewed the widow in anotherinstance; for he assigned her an apartment for the use of herself andher little family, which, he told her, she was welcome to enjoy aslong as it suited her conveniency. 

"As this widow was very young, and generally thought to be tolerablypretty, though I own she had a cast with her eyes which I never liked, my father, you may suppose, acted from a less noble principle than Ihave hinted; but I must in justice acquit him, for these kind offerswere made her before ever he had seen her face; and I have thegreatest reason to think that, for a long time after he had seen her, he beheld her with much indifference. 

"This act of my father's gave me, when I first heard it, greatsatisfaction; for I may at least, with the modesty of the ancientphilosophers, call myself a lover of generosity, but when I becameacquainted with the widow I was still more delighted with what myfather had done; for though I could not agree with those who thoughther a consummate beauty, I must allow that she was very fullypossessed of the power of making herself agreeable; and this power sheexerted with so much success, with such indefatigable industry tooblige, that within three months I became in the highest mannerpleased with my new acquaintance, and had contracted the most sincerefriendship for her. 

"But, if I was so pleased with the widow, my father was by this timeenamoured of her. She had, indeed, by the most artful conduct in theworld, so insinuated herself into his favour, so entirely infatuatedhim, that he never shewed the least marks of chearfulness in herabsence, and could, in truth, scarce bear that she should be out ofhis sight. 

"She had managed this matter so well (O, she is the most artful ofwomen!) that my father's heart was gone before I ever suspected it wasin danger. The discovery you may easily believe, madam, was notpleasing. The name of a mother-in-law sounded dreadful in my ears; norcould I bear the thought of parting again with a share in those dearaffections, of which I had purchased the whole by the loss of abeloved mother and sister. 

"In the first hurry and disorder of my mind on this occasion Icommitted a crime of the highest kind against all the laws of prudenceand discretion. I took the young lady herself very roundly to task, treated her designs on my father as little better than a design tocommit a theft, and in my passion, I believe, said she might beashamed to think of marrying a man old enough to be her grandfather;for so in reality he almost was. 

"The lady on this occasion acted finely the part of a hypocrite. Sheaffected to be highly affronted at my unjust suspicions, as she calledthem; and proceeded to such asseverations of her innocence, that shealmost brought me to discredit the evidence of my own eyes and ears. 

"My father, however, acted much more honestly, for he fell the nextday into a more violent passion with me than I had ever seen him inbefore, and asked me whether I intended to return his paternalfondness by assuming the right of controlling his inclinations? withmore of the like kind, which fully convinced me what had passedbetween him and the lady, and how little I had injured her in mysuspicions. 

"Hitherto, I frankly own, my aversion to this match had beenprincipally on my own account; for I had no ill opinion of the woman, though I thought neither her circumstances nor my father's agepromised any kind of felicity from such an union; but now I learntsome particulars, which, had not our quarrel become public in theparish, I should perhaps have never known. In short, I was Informedthat this gentle obliging creature, as she had at first appeared tome, had the spirit of a tigress, and was by many believed to havebroken the heart of her first husband. 

"The truth of this matter being confirmed to me upon examination, Iresolved not to suppress it. On this occasion fortune seemed to favourme, by giving me a speedy opportunity of seeing my father alone and ingood humour. He now first began to open his intended marriage, tellingme that he had formerly had some religious objections to bigamy, buthe had very fully considered the matter, and had satisfied himself ofits legality. He then faithfully promised me that no second marriageshould in the least impair his affection for me; and concluded withthe highest eulogiums on the goodness of the widow, protesting that itwas her virtues and not her person with which he was enamoured. 

"I now fell upon my knees before him, and bathing his hand in mytears, which flowed very plentifully from my eyes, acquainted him withall I had heard, and was so very imprudent, I might almost say socruel, to disclose the author of my information. 

"My father heard me without any indication of passion, and answeredcoldly, that if there was any proof of such facts he should declineany further thoughts of this match: 'But, child, ' said he, 'though Iam far from suspecting the truth of what you tell me, as far asregards your knowledge, yet you know the inclination of the world toslander. ' However, before we parted he promised to make a properenquiry into what I had told him. --But I ask your pardon, dear madam, I am running minutely into those particulars of my life in which youhave not the least concern. "

Amelia stopt her friend short in her apology; and though, perhaps, shethought her impertinent enough, yet (such was her good breeding) shegave her many assurances of a curiosity to know every incident of herlife which she could remember; after which Mrs. Bennet proceeded as inthe next chapter. 

Chapter iii. 

_Continuation of Mrs. Bennet's story. _

"I think, madam, " said Mrs. Bennet, "I told you my father promised meto enquire farther into the affair, but he had hardly time to keep hisword; for we separated pretty late in the evening and early the nextmorning he was married to the widow. 

"But, though he gave no credit to my information, I had sufficientreason to think he did not forget it, by the resentment which he soondiscovered to both the persons whom I had named as my informers. 

"Nor was it long before I had good cause to believe that my father'snew wife was perfectly well acquainted with the good opinion I had ofher, not only from her usage of me, but from certain hints which shethrew forth with an air of triumph. One day, particularly, I remembershe said to my father, upon his mentioning his age, 'O, my dear! Ihope you have many years yet to live! unless, indeed, I should be socruel as to break your heart' She spoke these words looking me full inthe face, and accompanied them with a sneer in which the highestmalice was visible, under a thin covering of affected pleasantry. 

"I will not entertain you, madam, with anything so common as the cruelusage of a step-mother; nor of what affected me much more, the unkindbehaviour of a father under such an influence. It shall suffice onlyto tell you that I had the mortification to perceive the gradual anddaily decrease of my father's affection. His smiles were convertedinto frowns; the tender appellations of child and dear were exchangedfor plain Molly, that girl, that creature, and sometimes much hardernames. I was at first turned all at once into a cypher, and at lastseemed to be considered as a nuisance in the family. 

"Thus altered was the man of whom I gave you such a character at theentrance on my story; but, alas! he no longer acted from his ownexcellent disposition, but was in everything governed and directed bymy mother-in-law. In fact, whenever there is great disparity of yearsbetween husband and wife, the younger is, I believe, always possessedof absolute power over the elder; for superstition itself is a lessfirm support of absolute power than dotage. 

"But, though his wife was so entirely mistress of my father's willthat she could make him use me ill, she could not so perfectly subduehis understanding as to prevent him from being conscious of such ill-usage; and from this consciousness, he began inveterately to hate me. Of this hatred he gave me numberless instances, and I protest to you Iknow not any other reason for it than what I have assigned; and thecause, as experience hath convinced me, is adequate to the effect. 

"While I was in this wretched situation, my father's unkindness havingalmost broken ray heart, he came one day into my room with more angerin his countenance than I had ever seen, and, after bitterlyupbraiding me with my undutiful behaviour both to himself and hisworthy consort, he bid me pack up my alls, and immediately prepare toquit his house; at the same time gave me a letter, and told me thatwould acquaint me where I might find a home; adding that he doubtednot but I expected, and had indeed solicited, the invitation; and leftme with a declaration that he would have no spies in his family. 

"The letter, I found on opening it, was from my father's own sister;but before I mention the contents I will give you a short sketch ofher character, as it was somewhat particular. Her personal charms werenot great; for she was very tall, very thin, and very homely. Of thedefect of her beauty she was, perhaps, sensible; her vanity, therefore, retreated into her mind, where there is no looking-glass, and consequently where we can flatter ourselves with discoveringalmost whatever beauties we please. This is an encouragingcircumstance; and yet I have observed, dear Mrs. Booth, that few womenever seek these comforts from within till they are driven to it bydespair of finding any food for their vanity from without. Indeed, Ibelieve the first wish of our whole sex is to be handsome. "

Here both the ladies fixed their eyes on the glass, and both smiled. 

"My aunt, however, " continued Mrs. Bennet, "from despair of gainingany applause this way, had applied herself entirely to thecontemplation of her understanding, and had improved this to such apitch, that at the age of fifty, at which she was now arrived, she hadcontracted a hearty contempt for much the greater part of both sexes;for the women, as being idiots, and for the men, as the admirers ofidiots. That word, and fool, were almost constantly in her mouth, andwere bestowed with great liberality among all her acquaintance. 

"This lady had spent one day only at my father's house in near twoyears; it was about a month before his second marriage. At herdeparture she took occasion to whisper me her opinion of the widow, whom she called a pretty idiot, and wondered how her brother couldbear such company under his roof; for neither she nor I had at thattime any suspicion of what afterwards happened. 

"The letter which my father had just received, and which was the firstshe had sent him since his marriage, was of such a nature that Ishould be unjust if I blamed him for being offended; fool and idiotwere both plentifully bestowed in it as well on himself as on hiswife. But what, perhaps, had principally offended him was that partwhich related to me; for, after much panegyric on my understanding, and saying he was unworthy of such a daughter, she considered hismatch not only as the highest indiscretion as it related to himself, but as a downright act of injustice to me. One expression in it Ishall never forget. 'You have placed, ' said she, 'a woman above yourdaughter, who, in understanding, the only valuable gift of nature, isthe lowest in the whole class of pretty idiots. ' After much more ofthis kind, it concluded with inviting me to her house. 

"I can truly say that when I had read the letter I entirely forgave myfather's suspicion that I had made some complaints to my aunt of hisbehaviour; for, though I was indeed innocent, there was surely colourenough to suspect the contrary. 

"Though I had never been greatly attached to my aunt, nor indeed hadshe formerly given me any reason for such an attachment, yet I waswell enough pleased with her present invitation. To say the truth, Iled so wretched a life where I then was, that it was impossible not tobe a gainer by any exchange. 

"I could not, however, bear the thoughts of leaving my father with animpression on his mind against me which I did not deserve. Iendeavoured, therefore, to remove all his suspicion of my havingcomplained to my aunt by the most earnest asseverations of myinnocence; but they were all to no purpose. All my tears, all my vows, and all my entreaties were fruitless. My new mother, indeed, appearedto be my advocate; but she acted her part very poorly, and, far fromcounterfeiting any desire of succeeding in my suit, she could notconceal the excessive joy which she felt on the occasion. 

"Well, madam, the next day I departed for my aunt's, where, after along journey of forty miles, I arrived, without having once broke myfast on the road; for grief is as capable as food of filling thestomach, and I had too much of the former to admit any of the latter. The fatigue of my journey, and the agitation of my mind, joined to myfasting, so overpowered my spirits, that when I was taken from myhorse I immediately fainted away in the arms of the man who helped mefrom my saddle. My aunt expressed great astonishment at seeing me inthis condition, with my eyes almost swollen out of my head with tears;but my father's letter, which I delivered her soon after I came tomyself, pretty well, I believe, cured her surprize. She often smiledwith a mixture of contempt and anger while she was reading it; and, having pronounced her brother to be a fool, she turned to me, and, with as much affability as possible (for she is no great mistress ofaffability), said, 'Don't be uneasy, dear Molly, for you are come tothe house of a friend--of one who hath sense enough to discern theauthor of all the mischief: depend upon it, child, I will, ere long, make some people ashamed of their folly. ' This kind reception gave mesome comfort, my aunt assuring me that she would convince him howunjustly he had accused me of having made any complaints to her. Apaper war was now begun between these two, which not only fixed anirreconcileable hatred between them, but confirmed my father'sdispleasure against me; and, in the end, I believe, did me no servicewith my aunt; for I was considered by both as the cause of theirdissension, though, in fact, my stepmother, who very well knew theaffection my aunt had for her, had long since done her business withmy father; and as for my aunt's affection towards him, it had beenabating several years, from an apprehension that he did not paysufficient deference to her understanding. 

"I had lived about half a year with my aunt when I heard of mystepmother's being delivered of a boy, and the great joy my fatherexpressed on that occasion; but, poor man, he lived not long to enjoyhis happiness; for within a month afterwards I had the melancholy newsof his death. 

"Notwithstanding all the disobligations I had lately received fromhim, I was sincerely afflicted at my loss of him. All his kindness tome in my infancy, all his kindness to me while I was growing up, recurred to my memory, raised a thousand tender, melancholy ideas, andtotally obliterated all thoughts of his latter behaviour, for which Imade also every allowance and every excuse in my power. 

"But what may perhaps appear more extraordinary, my aunt began soon tospeak of him with concern. She said he had some understandingformerly, though his passion for that vile woman had, in a greatmeasure, obscured it; and one day, when she was in an ill-humour withme, she had the cruelty to throw out a hint that she had neverquarrelled with her brother if it had not been on my account. "Myfather, during his life, had allowed my aunt very handsomely for myboard; for generosity was too deeply riveted in his nature to beplucked out by all the power of his wife. So far, however, sheprevailed, that, though he died possessed of upwards of L2000, he leftme no more than L100, which, as he expressed in his will, was to setme up in some business, if I had the grace to take to any. 

"Hitherto my aunt had in general treated me with some degree ofaffection; but her behaviour began now to be changed. She soon took anopportunity of giving me to understand that her fortune wasinsufficient to keep me; and, as I could not live on the interest ofmy own, it was high time for me to consider about going into theworld. She added, that her brother having mentioned my setting up insome business in his will was very foolish; that I had been bred tonothing; and, besides, that the sum was too trifling to set me up inany way of reputation; she desired me therefore to think ofimmediately going into service. 

"This advice was perhaps right enough; and I told her I was very readyto do as she directed me, but I was at that time in an ill state ofhealth; I desired her therefore to let me stay with her till mylegacy, which was not to be paid till a year after my father's death, was due; and I then promised to satisfy her for my board, to which shereadily consented. 

"And now, madam, " said Mrs. Bennet, sighing, "I am going to open toyou those matters which lead directly to that great catastrophe of mylife which hath occasioned my giving you this trouble, and of tryingyour patience in this manner. "

Amelia, notwithstanding her impatience, made a very civil answer tothis; and then Mrs. Bennet proceeded to relate what is written in thenext chapter. 

Chapter iv. 

_Further continuation. _

"The curate of the parish where my aunt dwelt was a young fellow ofabout four-and-twenty. He had been left an orphan in his infancy, andentirely unprovided for, when an uncle had the goodness to take careof his education, both at school and at the university. As the younggentleman was intended for the church, his uncle, though he had twodaughters of his own, and no very large fortune, purchased for him thenext presentation of a living of near L200 a-year. The incumbent, atthe time of the purchase, was under the age of sixty, and in apparentgood health; notwithstanding which, he died soon after the bargain, and long before the nephew was capable of orders; so that the unclewas obliged to give the living to a clergyman, to hold it till theyoung man came of proper age. 

"The young gentleman had not attained his proper age of taking orderswhen he had the misfortune to lose his uncle and only friend, who, thinking he had sufficiently provided for his nephew by the purchaseof the living, considered him no farther in his will, but divided allthe fortune of which he died possessed between his two daughters;recommending it to them, however, on his deathbed, to assist theircousin with money sufficient to keep him at the university till heshould be capable of ordination. 

"But, as no appointment of this kind was in the will, the youngladies, who received about each, thought proper to disregard the lastwords of their father; for, besides that both of them were extremelytenacious of their money, they were great enemies to their cousin, onaccount of their father's kindness to him; and thought proper to lethim know that they thought he had robbed them of too much already. 

"The poor young fellow was now greatly distrest; for he had yet abovea year to stay at the university, without any visible means ofsustaining himself there. 

"In this distress, however, he met with a friend, who had the goodnature to lend him the sum of twenty pounds, for which he onlyaccepted his bond for forty, and which was to be paid within a yearafter his being possessed of his living; that is, within a year afterhis becoming qualified to hold it. 

"With this small sum thus hardly obtained the poor gentleman made ashift to struggle with all difficulties till he became of due age totake upon himself the character of a deacon. He then repaired to thatclergyman to whom his uncle had given the living upon the conditionsabove mentioned, to procure a title to ordination; but this, to hisgreat surprize and mortification, was absolutely refused him. 

"The immediate disappointment did not hurt him so much as theconclusion he drew from it; for he could have but little hopes thatthe man who could have the cruelty to refuse him a title wouldvouchsafe afterwards to deliver up to him a living of so considerablea value; nor was it long before this worthy incumbent told him plainlythat he valued his uncle's favours at too high a rate to part withthem to any one; nay, he pretended scruples of conscience, and saidthat, if he had made any slight promises, which he did not now wellremember, they were wicked and void; that he looked upon himself asmarried to his parish, and he could no more give it up than he couldgive up his wife without sin. 

"The poor young fellow was now obliged to seek farther for a title, which, at length, he obtained from the rector of the parish where myaunt lived. 

"He had not long been settled in the curacy before an intimateacquaintance grew between him and my aunt; for she was a great admirerof the clergy, and used frequently to say they were the onlyconversible creatures in the country. 

"The first time she was in this gentleman's company was at aneighbour's christening, where she stood godmother. Here she displayedher whole little stock of knowledge, in order to captivate Mr. Bennet(I suppose, madam, you already guess that to have been his name), andbefore they parted gave him a very strong invitation to her house. 

"Not a word passed at this christening between Mr. Bennet and myself, but our eyes were not unemployed. Here, madam, I first felt a pleasingkind of confusion, which I know not how to describe. I felt a kind ofuneasiness, yet did not wish to be without it. I longed to be alone, yet dreaded the hour of parting. I could not keep my eyes off from theobject which caused my confusion, and which I was at once afraid ofand enamoured with. But why do I attempt to describe my situation toone who must, I am sure, have felt the same?"

Amelia smiled, and Mrs. Bennet went on thus: "O, Mrs. Booth! had youseen the person of whom I am now speaking, you would not condemn thesuddenness of my love. Nay, indeed, I had seen him there before, though this was the first time I had ever heard the music of hisvoice. Oh! it was the sweetest that was ever heard. 

"Mr. Bennet came to visit my aunt the very next day. She imputed thisrespectful haste to the powerful charms of her understanding, andresolved to lose no opportunity in improving the opinion which sheimagined he had conceived of her. She became by this desire quiteridiculous, and ran into absurdities and a gallimatia scarce credible. 

"Mr. Bennet, as I afterwards found, saw her in the same light withmyself; but, as he was a very sensible and well-bred man, he so wellconcealed his opinion from us both, that I was almost angry, and shewas pleased even to raptures, declaring herself charmed with hisunderstanding, though, indeed, he had said very little; but I believehe heard himself into her good opinion, while he gazed himself intolove. 

"The two first visits which Mr. Bennet made to my aunt, though I wasin the room all the time, I never spoke a word; but on the third, onsome argument which arose between them, Mr. Bennet referred himself tome. I took his side of the question, as indeed I must to have donejustice, and repeated two or three words of Latin. My aunt reddened atthis, and exprest great disdain of my opinion, declaring she wasastonished that a man of Mr. Bennet's understanding could appeal tothe judgment of a silly girl; 'Is she, ' said my aunt, bridlingherself, 'fit to decide between us?' Mr. Bennet spoke very favourablyof what I had said; upon which my aunt burst almost into a rage, treated me with downright scurrility, called me conceited fool, abusedmy poor father for having taught me Latin, which, she said, had mademe a downright coxcomb, and made me prefer myself to those who were ahundred times my superiors in knowledge. She then fell foul on thelearned languages, declared they were totally useless, and concludedthat she had read all that was worth reading, though, she thankedheaven, she understood no language but her own. 

"Before the end of this visit Mr. Bennet reconciled himself very wellto my aunt, which, indeed, was no difficult task for him toaccomplish; but from that hour she conceived a hatred and rancourtowards me which I could never appease. 

"My aunt had, from my first coming into her house, expressed greatdislike to my learning. In plain truth, she envied me that advantage. This envy I had long ago discovered, and had taken great pains tosmother it, carefully avoiding ever to mention a Latin word in herpresence, and always submitting to her authority; for indeed Idespised her ignorance too much to dispute with her. By these means Ihad pretty well succeeded, and we lived tolerably together; but theaffront paid to her understanding by Mr. Bennet in my favour was aninjury never to be forgiven to me. She took me severely to task thatvery evening, and reminded me of going to service in such earnestterms as almost amounted to literally turning me out of doors;advising me, in the most insulting manner, to keep my Latin to myself, which she said was useless to any one, but ridiculous when pretendedto by a servant. 

"The next visit Mr. Bennet made at our house I was not suffered to bepresent. This was much the shortest of all his visits; and when hewent away he left my aunt in a worse humour than ever I had seen her. The whole was discharged on me in the usual manner, by upbraiding mewith my learning, conceit, and poverty; reminding me of obligations, and insisting on my going immediately to service. With all this I wasgreatly pleased, as it assured me that Mr. Bennet had said somethingto her in my favour; and I would have purchased a kind expression ofhis at almost any price. 

"I should scarce, however, have been so sanguine as to draw thisconclusion, had I not received some hints that I had not unhappilyplaced my affections on a man who made me no return; for, though hehad scarce addressed a dozen sentences to me (for, indeed, he had noopportunity), yet his eyes had revealed certain secrets to mine withwhich I was not displeased. 

"I remained, however, in a state of anxiety near a month; sometimespleasing myself with thinking Mr. Bennet's heart was in the samesituation with my own; sometimes doubting that my wishes had flatteredand deceived me, and not in the least questioning that my aunt was myrival; for I thought no woman could be proof against the charms thathad subdued me. Indeed, Mrs. Booth, he was a charming young fellow; Imust--I must pay this tribute to his memory. O, gracious Heaven! why, why did I ever see him? why was I doomed to such misery?" Here sheburst into a flood of tears, and remained incapable of speech for sometime; during which the gentle Amelia endeavoured all she could tosoothe her, and gave sufficient marks of sympathizing in the tenderaffliction of her friend. 

Mrs. Bennet, at length, recovered her spirits, and proceeded, as inthe next chapter. 

Chapter v. 

_The story of Mrs. Bennet continued. _

I scarce know where I left off--Oh! I was, I think, telling you that Iesteemed my aunt as my rival; and it is not easy to conceive a greaterdegree of detestation than I had for her; and what may, perhaps, appear strange, as she daily grew more and more civil to me, my hatredencreased with her civility; for I imputed it all to her triumph overme, and to her having secured, beyond all apprehension, the heart Ilonged for. 

"How was I surprized when, one day, with as much good-humour as shewas mistress of (for her countenance was not very pleasing), she askedme how I liked Mr. Bennet? The question, you will believe, madam, threw me into great confusion, which she plainly perceived, and, without waiting for my answer, told me she was very well satisfied, for that it did not require her discernment to read my thoughts in mycountenance. 'Well, child, ' she said, 'I have suspected this a greatwhile, and I believe it will please you to know that I yesterday madethe same discovery in your lover. ' This, I confess to you, was morethan I could well bear, and I begged her to say no more to me at thattime on that subject. 'Nay, child, ' answered she, 'I must tell youall, or I should not act a friendly part. Mr. Bennet, I am convinced, hath a passion for you; but it is a passion which, I think, you shouldnot encourage. For, to be plain with you, I fear he is in love withyour person only. Now this is a love, child, which cannot produce thatrational happiness which a woman of sense ought to expect. ' In short, she ran on with a great deal of stuff about rational happiness, andwomen of sense, and concluded with assuring me that, after thestrictest scrutiny, she could not find that Mr. Bennet had an adequateopinion of my understanding; upon which she vouchsafed to make me manycompliments, but mixed with several sarcasms concerning my learning. 

"I hope, madam, however, " said she to Amelia, "you have not so bad anopinion of my capacity as to imagine me dull enough to be offendedwith Mr. Bennet's sentiments, for which I presently knew so well toaccount. I was, indeed, charmed with his ingenuity, who haddiscovered, perhaps, the only way of reconciling my aunt to thoseinclinations which I now assured myself he had for me. 

"I was not long left to support my hopes by my sagacity. He soon foundan opportunity of declaring his passion. He did this in so forciblethough gentle a manner, with such a profusion of fervency andtenderness at once, that his love, like a torrent, bore everythingbefore it; and I am almost ashamed to own to you how very soon heprevailed upon me to--to--in short, to be an honest woman, and toconfess to him the plain truth. 

"When we were upon a good footing together he gave me a long relationof what had past at several interviews with my aunt, at which I hadnot been present. He said he had discovered that, as she valuedherself chiefly on her understanding, so she was extremely jealous ofmine, and hated me on account of my learning. That, as he had loved mepassionately from his first seeing me, and had thought of nothing fromthat time but of throwing himself at my feet, he saw no way so open topropitiate my aunt as that which he had taken by commending my beauty, a perfection to which she had long resigned all claim, at the expenseof my understanding, in which he lamented my deficiency to a degreealmost of ridicule. This he imputed chiefly to my learning; on thisoccasion he advanced a sentiment which so pleased my aunt that shethought proper to make it her own; for I heard it afterwards more thanonce from her own mouth. Learning, he said, had the same effect on themind that strong liquors have on the constitution; both tending toeradicate all our natural fire and energy. His flattery had made sucha dupe of my aunt that she assented, without the least suspicion ofhis sincerity, to all he said; so sure is vanity to weaken everyfortress of the understanding, and to betray us to every attack of theenemy. 

"You will believe, madam, that I readily forgave him all he had said, not only from that motive which I have mentioned, but as I was assuredhe had spoke the reverse of his real sentiments. I was not, however, quite so well pleased with my aunt, who began to treat me as if I wasreally an idiot. Her contempt, I own, a little piqued me; and I couldnot help often expressing my resentment, when we were alone together, to Mr. Bennet, who never failed to gratify me by making her conceitthe subject of his wit; a talent which he possessed in the mostextraordinary degree. 

"This proved of very fatal consequence; for one day, while we wereenjoying my aunt in a very thick arbour in the garden, she stole uponus unobserved, and overheard our whole conversation. I wish, my dear, you understood Latin, that I might repeat you a sentence in which therage of a tigress that hath lost her young is described. No Englishpoet, as I remember, hath come up to it; nor am I myself equal to theundertaking. She burst in upon us, open-mouthed, and after dischargingevery abusive word almost, in the only language she understood, onpoor Mr. Bennet, turned us both out of doors, declaring she would sendmy rags after me, but would never more permit me to set my foot withinher threshold. 

"Consider, dear madam, to what a wretched condition we were nowreduced. I had not yet received the small legacy left me by my father;nor was Mr. Bennet master of five pounds in the whole world. 

"In this situation, the man I doated on to distraction had but littledifficulty to persuade me to a proposal which, indeed, I thoughtgenerous in him to make, as it seemed to proceed from that tendernessfor my reputation to which he ascribed it; indeed, it could proceedfrom no motive with which I should have been displeased. In a word, within two days we were man and wife. 

"Mr. Bennet now declared himself the happiest of men; and, for mypart, I sincerely declared I envied no woman upon earth. How little, alas! did I then know or suspect the price I was to pay for all myjoys! A match of real love is, indeed, truly paradise; and suchperfect happiness seems to be the forbidden fruit to mortals, which weare to lament having tasted during the rest of our lives. 

"The first uneasiness which attacked us after our marriage was on myaunt's account. It was very disagreeable to live under the nose of sonear a relation, who did not acknowledge us, but on the contrary, wasever doing us all the ill turns in her power, and making a partyagainst us in the parish, which is always easy enough to do amongstthe vulgar against persons who are their superiors in rank, and, atthe same time, their inferiors in fortune. This made Mr. Bennet thinkof procuring an exchange, in which intention he was soon afterconfirmed by the arrival of the rector. It was the rector's custom tospend three months every year at his living, for which purpose hereserved an apartment in his parsonage-house, which was full largeenough for two such little families as then occupied it. We at firstpromised ourselves some little convenience from his boarding with us;and Mr. Bennet began to lay aside his thoughts of leaving his curacy, at least for some time. But these golden ideas presently vanished;for, though we both used our utmost endeavours to please him, we soonfound the impossibility of succeeding. He was, indeed, to give you hischaracter in a word, the most peevish of mortals. This temper, notwithstanding that he was both a good and a pious man, made hiscompany so insufferable that nothing could compensate it. If hisbreakfast was not ready to a moment--if a dish of meat was too much ortoo little done--in short, if anything failed of exactly hitting histaste, he was sure to be out of humour all that day, so that, indeed, he was scarce ever in a good temper a whole day together; for fortuneseems to take a delight in thwarting this kind of disposition, towhich human life, with its many crosses and accidents, is, in truth, by no means fitted. 

"Mr. Bennet was now, by my desire as well as his own, determined toquit the parish; but when he attempted to get an exchange, he found ita matter of more difficulty than he had apprehended; for the rector'stemper was so well known among the neighbouring clergy, that none ofthem could be brought to think of spending three months in a year withhim. 

"After many fruitless enquiries, Mr. Bennet thought best to remove toLondon, the great mart of all affairs, ecclesiastical and civil. Thisproject greatly pleased him, and he resolved, without more delay, totake his leave of the rector, which he did in the most friendly mannerpossible, and preached his farewell sermon; nor was there a dry eye inthe church, except among the few, whom my aunt, who remained stillinexorable, had prevailed upon to hate us without any cause. 

"To London we came, and took up our lodging the first night at the innwhere the stage-coach set us down: the next morning my husband wentout early on his business, and returned with the good news of havingheard of a curacy, and of having equipped himself with a lodging inthe neighbourhood of a worthy peer, 'who, ' said he, 'was my fellow-collegiate; and, what is more, I have a direction to a person who willadvance your legacy at a very reasonable rate. '

"This last particular was extremely agreeable to me, for our lastguinea was now broached; and the rector had lent my husband ten poundsto pay his debts in the country, for, with all his peevishness, he wasa good and a generous man, and had, indeed, so many valuablequalities, that I lamented his temper, after I knew him thoroughly, asmuch on his account as on my own. 

"We now quitted the inn and went to our lodgings, where my husbandhaving placed me in safety, as he said, he went about the business ofthe legacy with good assurance of success. 

"My husband returned elated with his success, the person to whom heapplied having undertaken to advance the legacy, which he fulfilled assoon as the proper enquiries could be made, and proper instrumentsprepared for that purpose. 

"This, however, took up so much time, that, as our fund was so verylow, we were reduced to some distress, and obliged to live extremelypenurious; nor would all do without my taking a most disagreeable wayof procuring money by pawning one of my gowns. 

"Mr. Bennet was now settled in a curacy in town, greatly to hissatisfaction, and our affairs seemed to have a prosperous aspect, whenhe came home to me one morning in much apparent disorder, looking aspale as death, and begged me by some means or other to get him a dram, for that he was taken with a sudden faintness and lowness of spirits. 

"Frighted as I was, I immediately ran downstairs, and procured somerum of the mistress of the house; the first time, indeed, I ever knewhim drink any. When he came to himself he begged me not to be alarmed, for it was no distemper, but something that had vexed him, which hadcaused his disorder, which he had now perfectly recovered. 

"He then told me the whole affair. He had hitherto deferred paying avisit to the lord whom I mentioned to have been formerly his fellow-collegiate, and was now his neighbour, till he could put himself indecent rigging. He had now purchased a new cassock, hat, and wig, andwent to pay his respects to his old acquaintance, who had receivedfrom him many civilities and assistances in his learning at theuniversity, and had promised to return them fourfold hereafter. 

"It was not without some difficulty that Mr. Bennet got into theantechamber. Here he waited, or as the phrase is, cooled his heels, for above an hour before he saw his lordship; nor had he seen him thenbut by an accident; for my lord was going out when he casuallyintercepted him in his passage to his chariot. He approached to salutehim with some familiarity, though with respect, depending on hisformer intimacy, when my lord, stepping short, very gravely told himhe had not the pleasure of knowing him. How! my lord, said he, can youhave so soon forgot your old acquaintance Tom Bennet? O, Mr. Bennet!cries his lordship, with much reserve, is it you? you will pardon mymemory. I am glad to see you, Mr. Bennet, but you must excuse me atpresent, for I am in very great haste. He then broke from him, andwithout more ceremony, or any further invitation, went directly intohis chariot. 

"This cold reception from a person for whom my husband had a realfriendship, and from whom he had great reason to expect a very warmreturn of affection, so affected the poor man, that it caused allthose symptoms which I have mentioned before. 

"Though this incident produced no material consequence, I could notpass it over in silence, as, of all the misfortunes which ever befelhim, it affected my husband the most. I need not, however, to a womanof your delicacy, make any comments on a behaviour which, though Ibelieve it is very common, is, nevertheless, cruel and base beyonddescription, and is diametrically opposite to true honour as well asto goodness. 

"To relieve the uneasiness which my husband felt on account of hisfalse friend, I prevailed with him to go every night, almost for afortnight together, to the play; a diversion of which he was greatlyfond, and from which he did not think his being a clergyman excludedhim; indeed, it is very well if those austere persons who would beinclined to censure him on this head have themselves no greater sinsto answer for. 

"From this time, during three months, we past our time very agreeably, a little too agreeably perhaps for our circumstances; for, howeverinnocent diversions may be in other respects, they must be owned to beexpensive. When you consider then, madam, that our income from thecuracy was less than forty pounds a year, and that, after payment ofthe debt to the rector, and another to my aunt, with the costs in lawwhich she had occasioned by suing for it, my legacy was reduced toless than seventy pounds, you will not wonder that, in diversions, cloaths, and the common expenses of life, we had almost consumed ourwhole stock. 

"The inconsiderate manner in which we had lived for some time will, Idoubt not, appear to you to want some excuse; but I have none to makefor it. Two things, however, now happened, which occasioned muchserious reflexion to Mr. Bennet; the one was, that I grew near mytime; the other, that he now received a letter from Oxford, demandingthe debt of forty pounds which I mentioned to you before. The formerof these he made a pretence of obtaining a delay for the payment ofthe latter, promising, in two months, to pay off half the debt, bywhich means he obtained a forbearance during that time. 

"I was now delivered of a son, a matter which should in reality haveencreased our concern, but, on the contrary, it gave us greatpleasure; greater indeed could not have been conceived at the birth ofan heir to the most plentiful estate: so entirely thoughtless were we, and so little forecast had we of those many evils and distresses towhich we had rendered a human creature, and one so dear to us, liable. The day of a christening is, in all families, I believe, a day ofjubilee and rejoicing; and yet, if we consider the interest of thatlittle wretch who is the occasion, how very little reason would themost sanguine persons have for their joy!

"But, though our eyes were too weak to look forward, for the sake ofour child, we could not be blinded to those dangers that immediatelythreatened ourselves. Mr. Bennet, at the expiration of the two months, received a second letter from Oxford, in a very peremptory stile, andthreatening a suit without any farther delay. This alarmed us in thestrongest manner; and my husband, to secure his liberty, was advisedfor a while to shelter himself in the verge of the court. 

"And, now, madam, I am entering on that scene which directly leads toall my misery. "--Here she stopped, and wiped her eyes; and then, begging Amelia to excuse her for a few minutes, ran hastily out of theroom, leaving Amelia by herself, while she refreshed her spirits witha cordial to enable her to relate what follows in the next chapter. 

Chapter vi. 

_Farther continued. _

Mrs. Bennet, returning into the room, made a short apology for herabsence, and then proceeded in these words:

"We now left our lodging, and took a second floor in that very housewhere you now are, to which we were recommended by the woman where wehad before lodged, for the mistresses of both houses were acquainted;and, indeed, we had been all at the play together. To this new lodgingthen (such was our wretched destiny) we immediately repaired, and werereceived by Mrs. Ellison (how can I bear the sound of that detestedname?) with much civility; she took care, however, during the firstfortnight of our residence, to wait upon us every Monday morning forher rent; such being, it seems, the custom of this place, which, as itwas inhabited chiefly by persons in debt, is not the region of credit. 

"My husband, by the singular goodness of the rector, who greatlycompassionated his case, was enabled to continue in his curacy, thoughhe could only do the duty on Sundays. He was, however, sometimesobliged to furnish a person to officiate at his expence; so that ourincome was very scanty, and the poor little remainder of the legacybeing almost spent, we were reduced to some difficulties, and, whatwas worse, saw still a prospect of greater before our eyes. 

"Under these circumstances, how agreeable to poor Mr. Bennet must havebeen the behaviour of Mrs. Ellison, who, when he carried her her renton the usual day, told him, with a benevolent smile, that he needednot to give himself the trouble of such exact punctuality. She addedthat, if it was at any time inconvenient to him, he might pay her whenhe pleased. 'To say the truth, ' says she, 'I never was so much pleasedwith any lodgers in my life; I am convinced, Mr. Bennet, you are avery worthy man, and you are a very happy one too; for you have theprettiest wife and the prettiest child I ever saw' These, dear madam, were the words she was pleased to make use of: and I am sure shebehaved to me with such an appearance of friendship and affection, that, as I could not perceive any possible views of interest which shecould have in her professions, I easily believed them real. 

"There lodged in the same house--O, Mrs. Booth! the blood runs cold tomy heart, and should run cold to yours, when I name him--there lodgedin the same house a lord--the lord, indeed, whom I have since seen inyour company. This lord, Mrs. Ellison told me, had taken a great fancyto my little Charley. Fool that I was, and blinded by my own passion, which made me conceive that an infant, not three months old, could bereally the object of affection to any besides a parent, and moreespecially to a gay young fellow! But, if I was silly in beingdeceived, how wicked was the wretch who deceived me--who used suchart, and employed such pains, such incredible pains, to deceive me! Heacted the part of a nurse to my little infant; he danced it, he lulledit, he kissed it; declared it was the very picture of a nephew of his--his favourite sister's child; and said so many kind and fond thingsof its beauty, that I myself, though, I believe, one of the tenderestand fondest of mothers, scarce carried my own ideas of my littledarling's perfection beyond the compliments which he paid it. 

"My lord, however, perhaps from modesty, before my face, fell farshort of what Mrs. Ellison reported from him. And now, when she foundthe impression which was made on me by these means, she took everyopportunity of insinuating to me his lordship's many virtues, hisgreat goodness to his sister's children in particular; nor did shefail to drop some hints which gave me the most simple and groundlesshopes of strange consequences from his fondness to my Charley. 

"When, by these means, which, simple as they may appear, were, perhaps, the most artful, my lord had gained something more, I think, than my esteem, he took the surest method to confirm himself in myaffection. This was, by professing the highest friendship for myhusband; for, as to myself, I do assure you he never shewed me morethan common respect; and I hope you will believe I should haveimmediately startled and flown off if he had. Poor I accounted for allthe friendship which he expressed for my husband, and all the fondnesswhich he shewed to my boy, from the great prettiness of the one andthe great merit of the other; foolishly conceiving that others sawwith my eyes and felt with my heart. Little did I dream that my ownunfortunate person was the fountain of all this lord's goodness, andwas the intended price of it. 

"One evening, as I was drinking tea with Mrs. Ellison by my lord'sfire (a liberty which she never scrupled taking when he was gone out), my little Charley, now about half a year old, sitting in her lap, mylord--accidentally, no doubt, indeed I then thought it so--came in. Iwas confounded, and offered to go; but my lord declared, if hedisturbed Mrs. Ellison's company, as he phrased it, he would himselfleave the room. When I was thus prevailed on to keep my seat, my lordimmediately took my little baby into his lap, and gave it some teathere, not a little at the expense of his embroidery; for he was veryrichly drest; indeed, he was as fine a figure as perhaps ever wasseen. His behaviour on this occasion gave me many ideas in his favour. I thought he discovered good sense, good nature, condescension, andother good qualities, by the fondness he shewed to my child, and thecontempt he seemed to express for his finery, which so greatly becamehim; for I cannot deny but that he was the handsomest and genteelestperson in the world, though such considerations advanced him not astep in my favour. 

"My husband now returned from church (for this happened on a Sunday), and was, by my lord's particular desire, ushered into the room. Mylord received him with the utmost politeness, and with manyprofessions of esteem, which, he said, he had conceived from Mrs. Ellison's representations of his merit. He then proceeded to mentionthe living which was detained from my husband, of which Mrs. Ellisonhad likewise informed him; and said, he thought it would be nodifficult matter to obtain a restoration of it by the authority of thebishop, who was his particular friend, and to whom he would take animmediate opportunity of mentioning it. This, at last, he determinedto do the very next day, when he invited us both to dinner, where wewere to be acquainted with his lordship's success. 

"My lord now insisted on my husband's staying supper with him, withouttaking any notice of me; but Mrs. Ellison declared he should not partman and wife, and that she herself would stay with me. The motion wastoo agreeable to me to be rejected; and, except the little time Iretired to put my child to bed, we spent together the most agreeableevening imaginable; nor was it, I believe, easy to decide whether Mr. Bennet or myself were most delighted with his lordship and Mrs. Ellison; but this, I assure you, the generosity of the one, and theextreme civility and kindness of the other, were the subjects of ourconversation all the ensuing night, during which we neither of usclosed our eyes. 

"The next day at dinner my lord acquainted us that he had prevailedwith the bishop to write to the clergyman in the country; indeed, hetold us that he had engaged the bishop to be very warm in ourinterest, and had not the least doubt of success. This threw us bothinto a flow of spirits; and in the afternoon Mr. Bennet, at Mrs. Ellison's request, which was seconded by his lordship, related thehistory of our lives from our first acquaintance. My lord seemed muchaffected with some tender scenes, which, as no man could better feel, so none could better describe, than my husband. When he had finished, my lord begged pardon for mentioning an occurrence which gave him sucha particular concern, as it had disturbed that delicious state ofhappiness in which we had lived at our former lodging. 'It would beungenerous, ' said he, 'to rejoice at an accident which, though itbrought me fortunately acquainted with two of the most agreeablepeople in the world, was yet at the expense of your mutual felicity. The circumstance, I mean, is your debt at Oxford; pray, how doth thatstand? I am resolved it shall never disturb your happiness hereafter. 'At these words the tears burst from my poor husband's eyes; and, in anecstasy of gratitude, he cried out, 'Your lordship overcomes me withgenerosity. If you go on in this manner, both my wife's gratitude andmine must be bankrupt' He then acquainted my lord with the exact stateof the case, and received assurances from him that the debt shouldnever trouble him. My husband was again breaking out into the warmestexpressions of gratitude, but my lord stopt him short, saying, 'If youhave any obligation, it is to my little Charley here, from whoselittle innocent smiles I have received more than the value of thistrifling debt in pleasure. ' I forgot to tell you that, when I offeredto leave the room after dinner upon my child's account, my lord wouldnot suffer me, but ordered the child to be brought to me. He now tookit out of my arms, placed it upon his own knee, and fed it with somefruit from the dessert. In short, it would be more tedious to you thanto myself to relate the thousand little tendernesses he shewed to thechild. He gave it many baubles; amongst the rest was a coral worth atleast three pounds; and, when my husband was confined near a fortnightto his chamber with a cold, he visited the child every day (for tothis infant's account were all the visits placed), and seldom failedof accompanying his visit with a present to the little thing. 

"Here, Mrs. Booth, I cannot help mentioning a doubt which hath oftenarisen in my mind since I have been enough mistress of myself toreflect on this horrid train which was laid to blow up my innocence. Wicked and barbarous it was to the highest degree without anyquestion; but my doubt is, whether the art or folly of it be the moreconspicuous; for, however delicate and refined the art must be allowedto have been, the folly, I think, must upon a fair examination appearno less astonishing: for to lay all considerations of cruelty andcrime out of the case, what a foolish bargain doth the man make forhimself who purchases so poor a pleasure at so high a price!

"We had lived near three weeks with as much freedom as if we had beenall of the same family, when, one afternoon, my lord proposed to myhusband to ride down himself to solicit the surrender; for he said thebishop had received an unsatisfactory answer from the parson, and hadwrit a second letter more pressing, which his lordship now promised usto strengthen by one of his own that my husband was to carry with him. Mr. Bennet agreed to this proposal with great thankfulness, and thenext day was appointed for his journey. The distance was near seventymiles. 

"My husband set out on his journey, and he had scarce left me beforeMrs. Ellison came into my room, and endeavoured to comfort me in hisabsence; to say the truth, though he was to be from me but a few days, and the purpose of his going was to fix our happiness on a soundfoundation for all our future days, I could scarce support my spiritsunder this first separation. But though I then thought Mrs. Ellison'sintentions to be most kind and friendly, yet the means she used wereutterly ineffectual, and appeared to me injudicious. Instead ofsoothing my uneasiness, which is always the first physic to be givento grief, she rallied me upon it, and began to talk in a very unusualstile of gaiety, in which she treated conjugal love with muchridicule. 

"I gave her to understand that she displeased me by this discourse;but she soon found means to give such a turn to it as made a merit ofall she had said. And now, when she had worked me into a good humour, she made a proposal to me which I at first rejected--but at lastfatally, too fatally, suffered myself to be over-persuaded. This wasto go to a masquerade at Ranelagh, for which my lord had furnished herwith tickets. "

At these words Amelia turned pale as death, and hastily begged herfriend to give her a glass of water, some air, or anything. Mrs. Bennet, having thrown open the window, and procured the water, whichprevented Amelia from fainting, looked at her with much tenderness, and cried, "I do not wonder, my dear madam, that you are affected withmy mentioning that fatal masquerade; since I firmly believe the sameruin was intended for you at the same place; the apprehension of whichoccasioned the letter I sent you this morning, and all the trial ofyour patience which I have made since. "

Amelia gave her a tender embrace, with many expressions of the warmestgratitude; assured her she had pretty well recovered her spirits, andbegged her to continue her story, which Mrs. Bennet then did. However, as our readers may likewise be glad to recover their spirits also, weshall here put an end to this chapter. 

Chapter vii. 

_The story farther continued. _

Mrs. Bennet proceeded thus:

"I was at length prevailed on to accompany Mrs. Ellison to themasquerade. Here, I must confess, the pleasantness of the place, thevariety of the dresses, and the novelty of the thing, gave me muchdelight, and raised my fancy to the highest pitch. As I was entirelyvoid of all suspicion, my mind threw off all reserve, and pleasureonly filled my thoughts. Innocence, it is true, possessed my heart;but it was innocence unguarded, intoxicated with foolish desires, andliable to every temptation. During the first two hours we had manytrifling adventures not worth remembering. At length my lord joinedus, and continued with me all the evening; and we danced severaldances together. 

"I need not, I believe, tell you, madam, how engaging his conversationis. I wish I could with truth say I was not pleased with it; or, atleast, that I had a right to be pleased with it. But I will disguisenothing from you. I now began to discover that he had some affectionfor me, but he had already too firm a footing in my esteem to make thediscovery shocking. I will--I will own the truth; I was delighted withperceiving a passion in him, which I was not unwilling to think he hadhad from the beginning, and to derive his having concealed it so longfrom his awe of my virtue, and his respect to my understanding. Iassure you, madam, at the same time, my intentions were never toexceed the bounds of innocence. I was charmed with the delicacy of hispassion; and, in the foolish thoughtless turn of mind in which I thenwas, I fancied I might give some very distant encouragement to such apassion in such a man with the utmost safety--that I might indulge myvanity and interest at once, without being guilty of the least injury. 

"I know Mrs. Booth will condemn all these thoughts, and I condemn themno less myself; for it is now my stedfast opinion that the woman whogives up the least outwork of her virtue doth, in that very moment, betray the citadel. 

"About two o'clock we returned home, and found a very handsomecollation provided for us. I was asked to partake of it, and I didnot, I could not refuse. I was not, however, entirely void of allsuspicion, and I made many resolutions; one of which was, not to drinka drop more than my usual stint. This was, at the utmost, little morethan half a pint of small punch. 

"I adhered strictly to my quantity; but in the quality I am convincedI was deceived; for before I left the room I found my head giddy. Whatthe villain gave me I know not; but, besides being intoxicated, Iperceived effects from it which are not to be described. 

"Here, madam, I must draw a curtain over the residue of that fatalnight. Let it suffice that it involved me in the most dreadful ruin; aruin to which I can truly say I never consented, and of which I wasscarce conscious when the villanous man avowed it to my face in themorning. 

"Thus I have deduced my story to the most horrid period; happy had Ibeen had this been the period of my life, but I was reserved forgreater miseries; but before I enter on them I will mention somethingvery remarkable, with which I was now acquainted, and that will shewthere was nothing of accident which had befallen me, but that all wasthe effect of a long, regular, premeditated design. 

"You may remember, madam, I told you that we were recommended to Mrs. Ellison by the woman at whose house we had before lodged. This woman, it seems, was one of my lord's pimps, and had before introduced me tohis lordship's notice. 

"You are to know then, madam, that this villain, this lord, nowconfest to me that he had first seen me in the gallery at theoratorio, whither I had gone with tickets with which the woman where Ifirst lodged had presented me, and which were, it seems, purchased bymy lord. Here I first met the vile betrayer, who was disguised in arug coat and a patch upon his face. "

At these words Amelia cried, "O, gracious heavens!" and fell back inher chair. Mrs. Bennet, with proper applications, brought her back tolife; and then Amelia acquainted her that she herself had first seenthe same person in the same place, and in the same disguise. "O, Mrs. Bennet!" cried she, "how am I indebted to you! what words, whatthanks, what actions can demonstrate the gratitude of my sentiments! Ilook upon you, and always shall look upon you, as my preserver fromthe brink of a precipice, from which I was falling into the same ruinwhich you have so generously, so kindly, and so nobly disclosed for mysake. "

Here the two ladies compared notes; and it appeared that hislordship's behaviour at the oratorio had been alike to both; that hehad made use of the very same words, the very same actions to Amelia, which he had practised over before on poor unfortunate Mrs. Bennet. Itmay, perhaps, be thought strange that neither of them could afterwardsrecollect him; but so it was. And, indeed, if we consider the force ofdisguise, the very short time that either of them was with him at thisfirst interview, and the very little curiosity that must have beensupposed in the minds of the ladies, together with the amusement inwhich they were then engaged, all wonder will, I apprehend, cease. Amelia, however, now declared she remembered his voice and featuresperfectly well, and was thoroughly satisfied he was the same person. She then accounted for his not having visited in the afternoon, according to his promise, from her declared resolutions to Mrs. Ellison not to see him. She now burst forth into some very satiricalinvectives against that lady, and declared she had the art, as well asthe wickedness, of the devil himself. 

Many congratulations now past from Mrs. Bennet to Amelia, which werereturned with the most hearty acknowledgments from that lady. But, instead of filling our paper with these, we shall pursue Mrs. Bennet'sstory, which she resumed as we shall find in the next chapter. 

Chapter viii. 

_Further continuation. _

"No sooner, " said Mrs. Bennet, continuing her story, "was my lorddeparted, than Mrs. Ellison came to me. She behaved in such a manner, when she became acquainted with what had past, that, though I was atfirst satisfied of her guilt, she began to stagger my opinion, and atlength prevailed upon me entirely to acquit her. She raved like a madwoman against my lord, swore he should not stay a moment in her house, and that she would never speak to him more. In short, had she been themost innocent woman in the world, she could not have spoke nor actedany otherwise, nor could she have vented more wrath and indignationagainst the betrayer. 

"That part of her denunciation of vengeance which concerned my lord'sleaving the house she vowed should be executed immediately; but then, seeming to recollect herself, she said, 'Consider, my dear child, itis for your sake alone I speak; will not such a proceeding give somesuspicion to your husband?' I answered, that I valued not that; that Iwas resolved to inform my husband of all the moment I saw him; withmany expressions of detestation of myself and an indifference for lifeand for everything else. 

"Mrs. Ellison, however, found means to soothe me, and to satisfy mewith my own innocence, a point in which, I believe, we are all easilyconvinced. In short, I was persuaded to acquit both myself and her, tolay the whole guilt upon my lord, and to resolve to conceal it from myhusband. 

"That whole day I confined myself to my chamber and saw no person butMrs. Ellison. I was, indeed, ashamed to look any one in the face. Happily for me, my lord went into the country without attempting tocome near me, for I believe his sight would have driven me to madness. 

"The next day I told Mrs. Ellison that I was resolved to leave herlodgings the moment my lord came to town; not on her account (for Ireally inclined to think her innocent), but on my lord's, whose face Iwas resolved, if possible, never more to behold. She told me I had noreason to quit her house on that score, for that my lord himself hadleft her lodgings that morning in resentment, she believed, of theabuses Which she had cast on him the day before. 

"This confirmed me in the opinion of her innocence; nor hath she fromthat day to this, till my acquaintance with you, madam, done anythingto forfeit my opinion. On the contrary, I owe her many good offices;amongst the rest, I have an annuity of one hundred and fifty pounds a-year from my lord, which I know was owing to her solicitations, forshe is not void of generosity or good-nature; though by what I havelately seen, I am convinced she was the cause of my ruin, and hathendeavoured to lay the same snares for you. 

"But to return to my melancholy story. My husband returned at theappointed time; and I met him with an agitation of mind not to bedescribed. Perhaps the fatigue which he had undergone in his journey, and his dissatisfaction at his ill success, prevented his takingnotice of what I feared was too visible. All his hopes were entirelyfrustrated; the clergyman had not received the bishop's letter, and asto my lord's he treated it with derision and contempt. Tired as hewas, Mr. Bennet would not sit down till he had enquired for my lord, intending to go and pay his compliments. Poor man! he little suspectedthat he had deceived him, as I have since known, concerning thebishop; much less did he suspect any other injury. But the lord--thevillain was gone out of town, so that he was forced to postpone allhis gratitude. 

"Mr. Bennet returned to town late on the Saturday night, neverthelesshe performed his duty at church the next day, but I refused to go withhim. This, I think, was the first refusal I was guilty of since ourmarriage; but I was become so miserable, that his presence, which hadbeen the source of all my happiness, was become my bane. I will notsay I hated to see him, but I can say I was ashamed, indeed afraid, tolook him in the face. I was conscious of I knew not what--guilt I hopeit cannot be called. "

"I hope not, nay, I think not, " cries Amelia. 

"My husband, " continued Mrs. Bennet, "perceived my dissatisfaction, and imputed it to his ill-success in the country. I was pleased withthis self-delusion, and yet, when I fairly compute the agonies Isuffered at his endeavours to comfort me on that head, I paid mostseverely for it. O, my dear Mrs. Booth! happy is the deceived partybetween true lovers, and wretched indeed is the author of the deceit!

"In this wretched condition I passed a whole week, the most miserableI think of my whole life, endeavouring to humour my husband's delusionand to conceal my own tortures; but I had reason to fear I could notsucceed long, for on the Saturday night I perceived a visiblealteration in his behaviour to me. He went to bed in an apparent ill-humour, turned sullenly from me, and if I offered at any endearmentshe gave me only peevish answers. 

"After a restless turbulent night, he rose early on Sunday morning andwalked down-stairs. I expected his return to breakfast, but was sooninformed by the maid that he was gone forth, and that it was no morethan seven o'clock. All this you may believe, madam, alarmed me. I sawplainly he had discovered the fatal secret, though by what means Icould not divine. The state of my mind was very little short ofmadness. Sometimes I thought of running away from my injured husband, and sometimes of putting an end to my life. 

"In the midst of such perturbations I spent the day. My husbandreturned in the evening. O, Heavens! can I describe what followed?--Itis impossible! I shall sink under the relation. He entered the roomwith a face as white as a sheet, his lips trembling and his eyes redas coals of fire starting as it were from his head. --'Molly, ' crieshe, throwing himself into his chair, 'are you well?' 'Good Heavens!'says I, 'what's the matter?--Indeed I can't say I am well. ' 'No!' sayshe, starting from his chair, 'false monster, you have betrayed me, destroyed me, you have ruined your husband!' Then looking like a fury, he snatched off a large book from the table, and, with the malice of amadman, threw it at my head and knocked me down backwards. He thencaught me up in his arms and kissed me with most extravaganttenderness; then, looking me stedfastly in the face for severalmoments, the tears gushed in a torrent from his eyes, and with hisutmost violence he threw me again on the floor, kicked me, stampedupon me. I believe, indeed, his intent was to kill me, and I believehe thought he had accomplished it. 

"I lay on the ground for some minutes, I believe, deprived of mysenses. When I recovered myself I found my husband lying by my side onhis face, and the blood running from him. It seems, when he thought hehad despatched me, he ran his head with all his force against a chestof drawers which stood in the room, and gave himself a dreadful woundin his head. 

"I can truly say I felt not the least resentment for the usage I hadreceived; I thought I deserved it all; though, indeed, I littleguessed what he had suffered from me. I now used the most earnestentreaties to him to compose himself; and endeavoured, with my feeblearms, to raise him from the ground. At length he broke from me, and, springing from the ground, flung himself into a chair, when, lookingwildly at me, he cried--'Go from me, Molly. I beseech you, leave me. Iwould not kill you. '--He then discovered to me--O Mrs. Booth! can younot guess it?--I was indeed polluted by the villain--I had infected myhusband. --O heavens! why do I live to relate anything so horrid--Iwill not, I cannot yet survive it. I cannot forgive myself. Heavencannot forgive me!"

Here she became inarticulate with the violence of her grief, and fellpresently into such agonies, that the frighted Amelia began to callaloud for some assistance. Upon this a maid-servant came up, who, seeing her mistress in a violent convulsion fit, presently screamedout she was dead. Upon which one of the other sex made his appearance:and who should this be but the honest serjeant? whose countenance soonmade it evident that, though a soldier, and a brave one too, he wasnot the least concerned of all the company on this occasion. 

The reader, if he hath been acquainted with scenes of this kind, verywell knows that Mrs. Bennet, in the usual time, returned again to thepossession of her voice: the first use of which she made was toexpress her astonishment at the presence of the serjeant, and, with afrantic air, to enquire who he was. 

The maid, concluding that her mistress was not yet returned to hersenses, answered, "Why, 'tis my master, madam. Heaven preserve yoursenses, madam!--Lord, sir, my mistress must be very bad not to knowyou!"

What Atkinson thought at this instant, I will not say; but certain itis he looked not over-wise. He attempted twice to take hold of Mrs. Bennet's hand, but she withdrew it hastily, and presently after, rising up from her chair, she declared herself pretty well again, anddesired Atkinson and the maid to withdraw. Both of whom presentlyobeyed: the serjeant appearing by his countenance to want comfortalmost as much as the lady did to whose assistance he had beensummoned, It is a good maxim to trust a person entirely or not at all; for asecret is often innocently blabbed out by those who know but half ofit. Certain it is that the maid's speech communicated a suspicion tothe mind of Amelia which the behaviour of the serjeant did not tend toremove: what that is, the sagacious readers may likewise probablysuggest to themselves; if not, they must wait our time for disclosingit. We shall now resume the history of Mrs. Bennet, who, after manyapologies, proceeded to the matters in the next chapter. 

Chapter ix. 

_The conclusion of Mrs. Bennet's history. _

"When I became sensible, " cries Mrs. Bennet, "of the injury I had donemy husband, I threw myself at his feet, and embracing his knees, whileI bathed them with my tears, I begged a patient hearing, declaring, ifhe was not satisfied with what I should say, I would become a willingvictim of his resentment, I said, and I said truly, that, if I owed mydeath that instant to his hands, I should have no other terrour but ofthe fatal consequence which it might produce to himself. 

"He seemed a little pacified, and bid me say whatever I pleased. 

"I then gave him a faithful relation of all that had happened. Heheard me with great attention, and at the conclusion cried, with adeep sigh--'O Molly! I believe it all. --You must have been betrayed asyou tell me; you could not be guilty of such baseness, such cruelty, such ingratitude. ' He then--O! it is impossible to describe hisbehaviour--he exprest such kindness, such tenderness, such concern forthe manner in which he had used me--I cannot dwell on this scene--Ishall relapse--you must excuse me. "

Amelia begged her to omit anything which so affected her; and sheproceeded thus: "My husband, who was more convinced than I was of Mrs. Ellison's guilt, declared he would not sleep that night in her house. He then went out to see for a lodging; he gave me all the money hehad, and left me to pay her bill, and put up the cloaths, telling me, if I had not money enough, I might leave the cloaths as a pledge; buthe vowed he could not answer for himself if he saw the face of Mrs. Ellison. 

"Words cannot scarce express the behaviour of that artful woman, itwas so kind and so generous. She said, she did not blame my husband'sresentment, nor could she expect any other, but that he and all theworld should censure her--that she hated her house almost as much aswe did, and detested her cousin, if possible, more. In fine, she saidI might leave my cloaths there that evening, but that she would sendthem to us the next morning; that she scorned the thought of detainingthem; and as for the paultry debt, we might pay her whenever wepleased; for, to do her justice, with all her vices, she hath somegood in her. "

"Some good in her, indeed!" cried Amelia, with great indignation. 

"We were scarce settled in our new lodgings, " continued Mrs. Bennet, "when my husband began to complain of a pain in his inside. He told mehe feared he had done himself some injury in his rage, and burstsomething within him. As to the odious--I cannot bear the thought, thegreat skill of his surgeon soon entirely cured him; but his othercomplaint, instead of yielding to any application, grew still worseand worse, nor ever ended till it brought him to his grave. 

"O Mrs. Booth! could I have been certain that I had occasioned this, however innocently I had occasioned it, I could never have survivedit; but the surgeon who opened him after his death assured me that hedied of what they called a polypus in his heart, and that nothingwhich had happened on account of me was in the least the occasion ofit. 

"I have, however, related the affair truly to you. The first complaintI ever heard of the kind was within a day or two after we left Mrs. Ellison's; and this complaint remained till his death, which mightinduce him perhaps to attribute his death to another cause; but thesurgeon, who is a man of the highest eminence, hath always declaredthe contrary to me, with the most positive certainty; and this opinionhath been my only comfort. 

"When my husband died, which was about ten weeks after we quitted Mrs. Ellison's, of whom I had then a different opinion from what I havenow, I was left in the most wretched condition imaginable. I believe, madam, she shewed you my letter. Indeed, she did everything for me atthat time which I could have expected from the best of friends, Shesupplied me with money from her own pocket, by which means I waspreserved from a distress in which I must have otherwise inevitablyperished. 

"Her kindness to me in this season of distress prevailed on me toreturn again to her house. Why, indeed, should I have refused an offerso very convenient for me to accept, and which seemed so generous inher to make? Here I lived a very retired life with my little babe, seeing no company but Mrs. Ellison herself for a full quarter of ayear. At last Mrs. Ellison brought me a parchment from my lord, inwhich he had settled upon me, at her instance, as she told me, and asI believe it was, an annuity of one hundred and fifty pounds a-year. This was, I think, the very first time she had mentioned his hatefulname to me since my return to her house. And she now prevailed uponme, though I assure you not without some difficulty, to suffer him toexecute the deed in my presence. 

"I will not describe our interview--I am not able to describe it, andI have often wondered how I found spirits to support it. This I willsay for him, that, if he was not a real penitent, no man alive couldact the part better. 

"Beside resentment, I had another motive of my backwardness to agreeto such a meeting; and this was--fear. I apprehended, and surely notwithout reason, that the annuity was rather meant as a bribe than arecompence, and that further designs were laid against my innocence;but in this I found myself happily deceived; for neither then, nor atany time since, have I ever had the least solicitation of that kind. Nor, indeed, have I seen the least occasion to think my lord had anysuch desires. 

"Good heavens! what are these men? what is this appetite which musthave novelty and resistance for its provocatives, and which isdelighted with us no longer than while we may be considered in thelight of enemies?"

"I thank you, madam, " cries Amelia, "for relieving me from my fears onyour account; I trembled at the consequence of this secondacquaintance with such a man, and in such a situation. "

"I assure you, madam, I was in no danger, " returned Mrs. Bennet; "for, besides that I think I could have pretty well relied on my ownresolution, I have heard since, at St Edmundsbury, from an intimateacquaintance of my lord's, who was an entire stranger to my affairs, that the highest degree of inconstancy is his character; and that fewof his numberless mistresses have ever received a second visit fromhim. 

"Well, madam, " continued she, "I think I have little more to troubleyou with; unless I should relate to you my long ill state of health, from which I am lately, I thank Heaven, recovered; or unless I shouldmention to you the most grievous accident that ever befel me, the lossof my poor dear Charley. " Here she made a full stop, and the tears randown into her bosom. 

Amelia was silent a few minutes, while she gave the lady time to venther passion; after which she began to pour forth a vast profusion ofacknowledgments for the trouble she had taken in relating her history, but chiefly for the motive which had induced her to it, and for thekind warning which she had given her by the little note which Mrs. Bennet had sent her that morning. 

"Yes, madam, " cries Mrs. Bennet, "I am convinced, by what I havelately seen, that you are the destined sacrifice to this wicked lord;and that Mrs. Ellison, whom I no longer doubt to have been theinstrument of my ruin, intended to betray you in the same manner. Theday I met my lord in your apartment I began to entertain somesuspicions, and I took Mrs. Ellison very roundly to task upon them;her behaviour, notwithstanding many asseverations to the contrary, convinced me I was right; and I intended, more than once, to speak toyou, but could not; till last night the mention of the masqueradedetermined me to delay it no longer. I therefore sent you that notethis morning, and am glad you so luckily discovered the writer, as ithath given me this opportunity of easing my mind, and of honestlyshewing you how unworthy I am of your friendship, at the same timethat I so earnestly desire it. "

Chapter x. 

_Being the last chapter of the seventh book. _

Amelia did not fail to make proper compliments to Mrs. Bennet on theconclusion of her speech in the last chapter. She told her that, fromthe first moment of her acquaintance, she had the strongestinclination to her friendship, and that her desires of that kind weremuch increased by hearing her story. "Indeed, madam, " says she, "youare much too severe a judge on yourself; for they must have verylittle candour, in my opinion, who look upon your case with any severeeye. To me, I assure you, you appear highly the object of compassion;and I shall always esteem you as an innocent and an unfortunatewoman. "

Amelia would then have taken her leave, but Mrs. Bennet so stronglypressed her to stay to breakfast, that at length she complied; indeed, she had fasted so long, and her gentle spirits had been so agitatedwith variety of passions, that nature very strongly seconded Mrs. Bennet's motion. 

Whilst the maid was preparing the tea-equipage, Amelia, with a littleslyness in her countenance, asked Mrs. Bennet if serjeant Atkinson didnot lodge in the same house with her? The other reddened so extremelyat the question, repeated the serjeant's name with such hesitation, and behaved so aukwardly, that Amelia wanted no further confirmationof her suspicions. She would not, however, declare them abruptly tothe other, but began a dissertation on the serjeant's virtues; and, after observing the great concern which he had manifested when Mrs. Bennet was in her fit, concluded with saying she believed the serjeantwould make the best husband in the world, for that he had greattenderness of heart and a gentleness of manners not often to be foundin any man, and much seldomer in persons of his rank. 

"And why not in his rank?" said Mrs. Bennet. "Indeed, Mrs. Booth, werob the lower order of mankind of their due. I do not deny the forceand power of education; but, when we consider how very injudicious isthe education of the better sort in general, how little they areinstructed in the practice of virtue, we shall not expect to find theheart much improved by it. And even as to the head, how very slightlydo we commonly find it improved by what is called a genteel education!I have myself, I think, seen instances of as great goodness, and asgreat understanding too, among the lower sort of people as among thehigher. Let us compare your serjeant, now, with the lord who hath beenthe subject of conversation; on which side would an impartial judgedecide the balance to incline?"

"How monstrous then, " cries Amelia, "is the opinion of those whoconsider our matching ourselves the least below us in degree as a kindof contamination!"

"A most absurd and preposterous sentiment, " answered Mrs. Bennetwarmly; "how abhorrent from justice, from common sense, and fromhumanity--but how extremely incongruous with a religion whichprofesses to know no difference of degree, but ranks all mankind onthe footing of brethren! Of all kinds of pride, there is none sounchristian as that of station; in reality, there is none socontemptible. Contempt, indeed, may be said to be its own object; formy own part, I know none so despicable as those who despise others. "

"I do assure you, " said Amelia, "you speak my own sentiments. I giveyou my word, I should not be ashamed of being the wife of an honestman in any station. --Nor if I had been much higher than I was, shouldI have thought myself degraded by calling our honest serjeant myhusband. "

"Since you have made this declaration, " cries Mrs. Bennet, "I am sureyou will not be offended at a secret I am going to mention to you. "

"Indeed, my dear, " answered Amelia, smiling, "I wonder rather you haveconcealed it so long; especially after the many hints I have givenyou. "

"Nay, pardon me, madam, " replied the other; "I do not remember anysuch hints; and, perhaps, you do not even guess what I am going tosay. My secret is this; that no woman ever had so sincere, sopassionate a lover, as you have had in the serjeant. "

"I a lover in the serjeant!--I!" cries Amelia, a little surprized. 

"Have patience, " answered the other;--"I say, you, my dear. As muchsurprized as you appear, I tell you no more than the truth; and yet itis a truth you could hardly expect to hear from me, especially with somuch good-humour; since I will honestly confess to you. --But what needhave I to confess what I know you guess already?--Tell me nowsincerely, don't you guess?"

"I guess, indeed, and hope, " said she, "that he is your husband. "

"He is, indeed, my husband, " cries the other; "and I am most happy inyour approbation. In honest truth, you ought to approve my choice;since you was every way the occasion of my making it. What you said ofhim very greatly recommended him to my opinion; but he endearedhimself to me most by what he said of you. In short, I have discoveredthat he hath always loved you with such a faithful, honest, noble, generous passion, that I was consequently convinced his mind mustpossess all the ingredients of such a passion; and what are these buttrue honour, goodness, modesty, bravery, tenderness, and, in a word, every human virtue?--Forgive me, my dear; but I was uneasy till Ibecame myself the object of such a passion. "

"And do you really think, " said Amelia, smiling, "that I shall forgiveyou robbing me of such a lover? or, supposing what you banter me withwas true, do you really imagine you could change such a passion?"

"No, my dear, " answered the other; "I only hope I have changed theobject; for be assured, there is no greater vulgar error than that itis impossible for a man who loves one woman ever to love another. Onthe contrary, it is certain that a man who can love one woman so wellat a distance will love another better that is nearer to him. Indeed, I have heard one of the best husbands in the world declare, in thepresence of his wife, that he had always loved a princess withadoration. These passions, which reside only in very amorous and verydelicate minds, feed only on the delicacies there growing; and leaveall the substantial food, and enough of the delicacy too, for thewife. "

The tea being now ready, Mrs. Bennet, or, if you please, for thefuture, Mrs. Atkinson, proposed to call in her husband; but Ameliaobjected. She said she should be glad to see him any other time, butwas then in the utmost hurry, as she had been three hours absent fromall she most loved. However, she had scarce drank a dish of tea beforeshe changed her mind; and, saying she would not part man and wife, desired Mr. Atkinson might appear. 

The maid answered that her master was not at home; which words she hadscarce spoken, when he knocked hastily at the door, and immediatelycame running into the room, all pale and breathless, and, addressinghimself to Amelia, cried out, "I am sorry, my dear lady, to bring youill news; but Captain Booth"--"What! what!" cries Amelia, dropping thetea-cup from her hand, "is anything the matter with him?"--"Don't befrightened, my dear lady, " said the serjeant: "he is in very goodhealth; but a misfortune hath happened. "--" Are my children well?"said Amelia. --"O, very well, " answered the serjeant. "Pray, madam, don't be frightened; I hope it will signify nothing--he is arrested, but I hope to get him out of their damned hands immediately. " "Whereis he?" cries Amelia; "I will go to him this instant!" "He begs youwill not, " answered the serjeant. "I have sent his lawyer to him, andam going back with Mrs. Ellison this moment; but I beg your ladyship, for his sake, and for your own sake, not to go. " "Mrs. Ellison! whatis Mrs. Ellison to do?" cries Amelia: "I must and will go. " Mrs. Atkinson then interposed, and begged that she would not hurry herspirits, but compose herself, and go home to her children, whither shewould attend her. She comforted her with the thoughts that the captainwas in no immediate danger; that she could go to him when she would;and desired her to let the serjeant return with Mrs. Ellison, sayingshe might be of service, and that there was much wisdom, and no kindof shame, in making use of bad people on certain occasions. 

"And who, " cries Amelia, a little come to herself, "hath done thisbarbarous action?"

"One I am ashamed to name, " cries the serjeant; "indeed I had always avery different opinion of him: I could not have believed anything butmy own ears and eyes; but Dr Harrison is the man who hath done thedeed. "

"Dr Harrison!" cries Amelia. "Well, then, there is an end of allgoodness in the world. I will never have a good opinion of any humanbeing more. "

The serjeant begged that he might not be detained from the captain;and that, if Amelia pleased to go home, he would wait upon her. Butshe did not chuse to see Mrs. Ellison at this time; and, after alittle consideration, she resolved to stay where she was; and Mrs. Atkinson agreed to go and fetch her children to her, it being not manydoors distant. 

The serjeant then departed; Amelia, in her confusion, never havingonce thought of wishing him joy on his marriage. 

BOOK VIII. 

Chapter i. 

_Being the first chapter of the eighth book. _

The history must now look a little backwards to those circumstanceswhich led to the catastrophe mentioned at the end of the last book. 

When Amelia went out in the morning she left her children to the careof her husband. In this amiable office he had been engaged near anhour, and was at that very time lying along on the floor, and hislittle things crawling and playing about him, when a most violentknock was heard at the door; and immediately a footman, runningupstairs, acquainted him that his lady was taken violently ill, andcarried into Mrs. Chenevix's toy-shop. 

Booth no sooner heard this account, which was delivered with greatappearance of haste and earnestness, than he leapt suddenly from thefloor, and, leaving his children, roaring at the news of theirmother's illness, in strict charge with his maid, he ran as fast ashis legs could carry him to the place; or towards the place rather:for, before he arrived at the shop, a gentleman stopt him full butt, crying, "Captain, whither so fast?"--Booth answered eagerly, "Whoeveryou are, friend, don't ask me any questions now. "--"You must pardonme, captain, " answered the gentleman; "but I have a little businesswith your honour--In short, captain, I have a small warrant here in mypocket against your honour, at the suit of one Dr Harrison. " "You area bailiff then?" says Booth. "I am an officer, sir, " answered theother. "Well, sir, it is in vain to contend, " cries Booth; "but let mebeg you will permit me only to step to Mrs. Chenevix's--I will attendyou, upon my honour, wherever you please; but my wife lies violentlyill there. " "Oh, for that matter, " answered the bailiff, "you may setyour heart at ease. Your lady, I hope, is very well; I assure you sheis not there. You will excuse me, captain, these are only stratagemsof war. _Bolus and virtus, quis in a hostess equirit?_" "Sir, Ihonour your learning, " cries Booth, "and could almost kiss you forwhat you tell me. I assure you I would forgive you five hundredarrests for such a piece of news. Well, sir, and whither am I to gowith you?" "O, anywhere: where your honour pleases, " cries thebailiff. "Then suppose we go to Brown's coffee-house, " said theprisoner. "No, " answered the bailiff, "that will not do; that's in theverge of the court. " "Why then, to the nearest tavern, " said Booth. "No, not to a tavern, " cries the other, "that is not a place ofsecurity; and you know, captain, your honour is a shy cock; I havebeen after your honour these three months. Come, sir, you must go tomy house, if you please. " "With all my heart, " answered Booth, "if itbe anywhere hereabouts. " "Oh, it is but a little ways off, " repliedthe bailiff; "it is only in Gray's-inn-lane, just by almost. " He thencalled a coach, and desired his prisoner to walk in. 

Booth entered the coach without any resistance, which, had he beeninclined to make, he must have plainly perceived would have beenineffectual, as the bailiff appeared to have several followers athand, two of whom, beside the commander in chief, mounted with himinto the coach. As Booth was a sweet-tempered man, as well as somewhatof a philosopher, he behaved with all the good-humour imaginable, andindeed, with more than his companions; who, however, shewed him whatthey call civility, that is, they neither struck him nor spit in hisface. 

Notwithstanding the pleasantry which Booth endeavoured to preserve, hein reality envied every labourer whom he saw pass by him in his way. The charms of liberty, against his will, rushed on his mind; and hecould not avoid suggesting to himself how much more happy was thepoorest wretch who, without controul, could repair to his homelyhabitation and to his family, compared to him, who was thus violently, and yet lawfully, torn away from the company of his wife and children. And their condition, especially that of his Amelia, gave his heartmany a severe and bitter pang. 

At length he arrived at the bailiff's mansion, and was ushered into aroom in which were several persons. Booth desired to be alone; uponwhich the bailiff waited on him up-stairs into an apartment, thewindows of which were well fortified with iron bars, but the walls hadnot the least outwork raised before them; they were, indeed, what isgenerally called naked; the bricks having been only covered with athin plaster, which in many places was mouldered away. 

The first demand made upon Booth was for coach-hire, which amounted totwo shillings, according to the bailiff's account; that being justdouble the legal fare. He was then asked if he did not chuse a bowl ofpunch? to which he having answered in the negative, the bailiffreplied, "Nay, sir, just as you please. I don't ask you to drink, ifyou don't chuse it; but certainly you know the custom; the house isfull of prisoners, and I can't afford gentlemen a room to themselvesfor nothing. "

Booth presently took this hint--indeed it was a pretty broad one--andtold the bailiff he should not scruple to pay him his price; but infact he never drank unless at his meals. "As to that, sir, " cries thebailiff, "it is just as your honour pleases. I scorn to impose uponany gentleman in misfortunes: I wish you well out of them, for mypart. Your honour can take nothing amiss of me; I only does my duty, what I am bound to do; and, as you says you don't care to drinkanything, what will you be pleased to have for dinner?"

Booth then complied in bespeaking a dish of meat, and told the bailiffhe would drink a bottle with him after dinner. He then desired thefavour of pen, ink, and paper, and a messenger; all which wereimmediately procured him, the bailiff telling him he might sendwherever he pleased, and repeating his concern for Booth'smisfortunes, and a hearty desire to see the end of them. 

The messenger was just dispatched with the letter, when who shouldarrive but honest Atkinson? A soldier of the guards, belonging to thesame company with the serjeant, and who had known Booth at Gibraltar, had seen the arrest, and heard the orders given to the coachman. Thisfellow, accidentally meeting Atkinson, had acquainted him with thewhole affair. 

At the appearance of Atkinson, joy immediately overspread thecountenance of Booth. The ceremonials which past between them areunnecessary to be repeated. Atkinson was soon dispatched to theattorney and to Mrs. Ellison, as the reader hath before heard from hisown mouth. 

Booth now greatly lamented that he had writ to his wife. He thoughtshe might have been acquainted with the affair better by the serjeant. Booth begged him, however, to do everything in his power to comforther; to assure her that he was in perfect health and good spirits; andto lessen as much as possible the concern which he knew she would haveat the reading his letter. 

The serjeant, however, as the reader hath seen, brought himself thefirst account of the arrest. Indeed, the other messenger did notarrive till a full hour afterwards. This was not owing to any slownessof his, but to many previous errands which he was to execute beforethe delivery of the letter; for, notwithstanding the earnest desirewhich the bailiff had declared to see Booth out of his troubles, hehad ordered the porter, who was his follower, to call upon two orthree other bailiffs, and as many attorneys, to try to load hisprisoner with as many actions as possible. 

Here the reader may be apt to conclude that the bailiff, instead ofbeing a friend, was really an enemy to poor Booth; but, in fact, hewas not so. His desire was no more than to accumulate bail-bonds; forthe bailiff was reckoned an honest and good sort of man in his way, and had no more malice against the bodies in his custody than abutcher hath to those in his: and as the latter, when he takes hisknife in hand, hath no idea but of the joints into which he is to cutthe carcase; so the former, when he handles his writ, hath no otherdesign but to cut out the body into as many bail-bonds as possible. Asto the life of the animal, or the liberty of the man, they arethoughts which never obtrude themselves on either. 

Chapter ii. 

_Containing an account of Mr. Booth's fellow-sufferers. _

Before we return to Amelia we must detain our reader a little longerwith Mr. Booth, in the custody of Mr. Bondum the bailiff, who nowinformed his prisoner that he was welcome to the liberty of the housewith the other gentlemen. 

Booth asked who those gentlemen were. "One of them, sir, " says Mr. Bondum, "is a very great writer or author, as they call him; he hathbeen here these five weeks at the suit of a bookseller for elevenpound odd money; but he expects to be discharged in a day or two, forhe hath writ out the debt. He is now writing for five or sixbooksellers, and he will get you sometimes, when he sits to it, amatter of fifteen shillings a-day. For he is a very good pen, theysay, but is apt to be idle. Some days he won't write above five hours;but at other times I have know him at it above sixteen. " "Ay!" criesBooth; "pray, what are his productions? What does he write?" "Why, sometimes, " answered Bondum, "he writes your history books for yournumbers, and sometimes your verses, your poems, what do you call them?and then again he writes news for your newspapers. " "Ay, indeed! he isa most extraordinary man, truly!--How doth he get his news here?" "Whyhe makes it, as he doth your parliament speeches for your magazines. He reads them to us sometimes over a bowl of punch. To be sure it isall one as if one was in the parliament-house--it is about liberty andfreedom, and about the constitution of England. I say nothing for mypart, for I will keep my neck out of a halter; but, faith, he makes itout plainly to me that all matters are not as they should be. I am allfor liberty, for my part. " "Is that so consistent with your calling?"cries Booth. "I thought, my friend, you had lived by depriving men oftheir liberty. " "That's another matter, " cries the bailiff; "that'sall according to law, and in the way of business. To be sure, men mustbe obliged to pay their debts, or else there would be an end ofeverything. " Booth desired the bailiff to give him his opinion onliberty. Upon which, he hesitated a moment, and then cried out, "O'tis a fine thing, 'tis a very fine thing, and the constitution ofEngland. " Booth told him, that by the old constitution of England hehad heard that men could not be arrested for debt; to which thebailiff answered, that must have been in very bad times; "because aswhy, " says he, "would it not be the hardest thing in the world if aman could not arrest another for a just and lawful debt? besides, sir, you must be mistaken; for how could that ever be? is not liberty theconstitution of England? well, and is not the constitution, as a manmay say--whereby the constitution, that is the law and liberty, andall that--"

Booth had a little mercy upon the poor bailiff, when he found himrounding in this manner, and told him he had made the matter veryclear. Booth then proceeded to enquire after the other gentlemen, hisfellows in affliction; upon which Bondum acquainted him that one ofthe prisoners was a poor fellow. "He calls himself a gentleman, " saidBondum; "but I am sure I never saw anything genteel by him. In a weekthat he hath been in my house he hath drank only part of one bottle ofwine. I intend to carry him to Newgate within a day or two, if hecan't find bail, which, I suppose, he will not be able to do; foreverybody says he is an undone man. He hath run out all he hath bylosses in business, and one way or other; and he hath a wife and sevenchildren. Here was the whole family here the other day, all howlingtogether. I never saw such a beggarly crew; I was almost ashamed tosee them in my house. I thought they seemed fitter for Bridewell thanany other place. To be sure, I do not reckon him as proper company forsuch as you, sir; but there is another prisoner in the house that Idare say you will like very much. He is, indeed, very much of agentleman, and spends his money like one. I have had him only threedays, and I am afraid he won't stay much longer. They say, indeed, heis a gamester; but what is that to me or any one, as long as a manappears as a gentleman? I always love to speak by people as I find;and, in my opinion, he is fit company for the greatest lord in theland; for he hath very good cloaths, and money enough. He is not herefor debt, but upon a judge's warrant for an assault and battery; forthe tipstaff locks up here. "

The bailiff was thus haranguing when he was interrupted by the arrivalof the attorney whom the trusty serjeant had, with the utmostexpedition, found out and dispatched to the relief of his distressedfriend. But before we proceed any further with the captain we willreturn to poor Amelia, for whom, considering the situation in which weleft her, the good-natured reader may be, perhaps, in no small degreesolicitous. 

[Illustration: no caption]

Chapter iii. 

_Containing some extraordinary behaviour in Mrs. Ellison. _

The serjeant being departed to convey Mrs. Ellison to the captain, hiswife went to fetch Amelia's children to their mother. 

Amelia's concern for the distresses of her husband was aggravated atthe sight of her children. "Good Heavens!" she cried, "what will--whatcan become of these poor little wretches? why have I produced theselittle creatures only to give them a share of poverty and misery?" Atwhich words she embraced them eagerly in her arms, and bedewed themboth with her tears. 

The children's eyes soon overflowed as fast as their mother's, thoughneither of them knew the cause of her affliction. The little boy, whowas the elder and much the sharper of the two, imputed the agonies ofhis mother to her illness, according to the account brought to hisfather in his presence. 

When Amelia became acquainted with the child's apprehensions, she soonsatisfied him that she was in a perfect state of health; at which thelittle thing expressed great satisfaction, and said he was glad shewas well again. Amelia told him she had not been in the leastdisordered. Upon which the innocent cried out, "La! how can peopletell such fibs? a great tall man told my papa you was taken very illat Mrs. Somebody's shop, and my poor papa presently ran down-stairs: Iwas afraid he would have broke his neck, to come to you. "

"O, the villains!" cries Mrs. Atkinson, "what a stratagem was here totake away your husband!"

"Take away!" answered the child--"What! hath anybody taken away papa?--Sure that naughty fibbing man hath not taken away papa?"

Amelia begged Mrs. Atkinson to say something to her children, for thather spirits were overpowered. She then threw herself into a chair, andgave a full vent to a passion almost too strong for her delicateconstitution. 

The scene that followed, during some minutes, is beyond my power ofdescription; I must beg the readers' hearts to suggest it tothemselves. The children hung on their mother, whom they endeavouredin vain to comfort, as Mrs. Atkinson did in vain attempt to pacifythem, telling them all would be well, and they would soon see theirpapa again. 

At length, partly by the persuasions of Mrs. Atkinson, partly fromconsideration of her little ones, and more, perhaps, from the reliefwhich she had acquired by her tears, Amelia became a little composed. 

Nothing worth notice past in this miserable company from this timetill the return of Mrs. Ellison from the bailiff's house; and to drawout scenes of wretchedness to too great a length, is a task veryuneasy to the writer, and for which none but readers of a most gloomycomplexion will think themselves ever obliged to his labours. 

At length Mrs. Ellison arrived, and entered the room with an air ofgaiety rather misbecoming the occasion. When she had seated herself ina chair she told Amelia that the captain was very well and in goodspirits, and that he earnestly desired her to keep up hers. "Come, madam, " said she, "don't be disconsolate; I hope we shall soon be ableto get him out of his troubles. The debts, indeed, amount to more thanI expected; however, ways may be found to redeem him. He must ownhimself guilty of some rashness in going out of the verge, when heknew to what he was liable; but that is now not to be remedied. If hehad followed my advice this had not happened; but men will beheadstrong. "

"I cannot bear this, " cries Amelia; "shall I hear that best ofcreatures blamed for his tenderness to me?"

"Well, I will not blame him, " answered Mrs. Ellison; "I am sure Ipropose nothing but to serve him; and if you will do as much to servehim yourself, he will not be long a prisoner. "

"I do!" cries Amelia: "O Heavens! is there a thing upon earth--"

"Yes, there is a thing upon earth, " said Mrs. Ellison, "and a veryeasy thing too; and yet I will venture my life you start when Ipropose it. And yet, when I consider that you are a woman ofunderstanding, I know not why I should think so; for sure you musthave too much good sense to imagine that you can cry your husband outof prison. If this would have done, I see you have almost cried youreyes out already. And yet you may do the business by a much pleasanterway than by crying and bawling. "

"What do you mean, madam?" cries Amelia. --"For my part, I cannot guessyour meaning. "

"Before I tell you then, madam, " answered Mrs. Ellison, "I must informyou, if you do not already know it, that the captain is charged withactions to the amount of near five hundred pounds. I am sure I wouldwillingly be his bail; but I know my bail would not be taken for thatsum. You must consider, therefore, madam, what chance you have ofredeeming him; unless you chuse, as perhaps some wives would, that heshould lie all his life in prison. "

At these words Amelia discharged a shower of tears, and gave everymark of the most frantic grief. 

"Why, there now, " cries Mrs. Ellison, "while you will indulge theseextravagant passions, how can you be capable of listening to the voiceof reason? I know I am a fool in concerning myself thus with theaffairs of others. I know the thankless office I undertake; and yet Ilove you so, my dear Mrs. Booth, that I cannot bear to see youafflicted, and I would comfort you if you would suffer me. Let me begyou to make your mind easy; and within these two days I will engage toset your husband at liberty. 

"Harkee, child; only behave like a woman of spirit this evening, andkeep your appointment, notwithstanding what hath happened; and I amconvinced there is one who hath the power and the will to serve you. "

Mrs. Ellison spoke the latter part of her speech in a whisper, so thatMrs. Atkinson, who was then engaged with the children, might not hearher; but Amelia answered aloud, and said, "What appointment would youhave me keep this evening?"

"Nay, nay, if you have forgot, " cries Mrs. Ellison, "I will tell youmore another time; but come, will you go home? my dinner is ready bythis time, and you shall dine with me. "

"Talk not to me of dinners, " cries Amelia; "my stomach is too fullalready. "

"Nay, but, dear madam, " answered Mrs. Ellison, "let me beseech you togo home with me. I do not care, " says she, whispering, "to speakbefore some folks. " "I have no secret, madam, in the world, " repliedAmelia aloud, "which I would not communicate to this lady; for I shallalways acknowledge the highest obligations to her for the secrets shehath imparted to me. "

"Madam, " said Mrs. Ellison, "I do not interfere with obligations. I amglad the lady hath obliged you so much; and I wish all people wereequally mindful of obligations. I hope I have omitted no opportunityof endeavouring to oblige Mrs. Booth, as well as I have some otherfolks. "

"If by other folks, madam, you mean me, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "Iconfess I sincerely believe you intended the same obligation to usboth; and I have the pleasure to think it is owing to me that thislady is not as much obliged to you as I am. "

"I protest, madam, I can hardly guess your meaning, " said Mrs. Ellison. --"Do you really intend to affront me, madam?"

"I intend to preserve innocence and virtue, if it be in my power, madam, " answered the other. "And sure nothing but the most eagerresolution to destroy it could induce you to mention such anappointment at such a time. "

"I did not expect this treatment from you, madam, " cries Mrs. Ellison;"such ingratitude I could not have believed had it been reported to meby any other. "

"Such impudence, " answered Mrs. Atkinson, "must exceed, I think, allbelief; but, when women once abandon that modesty which is thecharacteristic of their sex, they seldom set any bounds to theirassurance. "

"I could not have believed this to have been in human nature, " criesMrs. Ellison. "Is this the woman whom I have fed, have cloathed, havesupported; who owes to my charity and my intercessions that she is notat this day destitute of all the necessaries of life?"

"I own it all, " answered Mrs. Atkinson; "and I add the favour of amasquerade ticket to the number. Could I have thought, madam, that youwould before my face have asked another lady to go to the same placewith the same man?--but I ask your pardon; I impute rather moreassurance to you than you are mistress of. --You have endeavoured tokeep the assignation a secret from me; and it was by mere accidentonly that I discovered it; unless there are some guardian angels thatin general protect innocence and virtue; though, I may say, I have notalways found them so watchful. "

"Indeed, madam, " said Mrs. Ellison, "you are not worth my answer; norwill I stay a moment longer with such a person. --So, Mrs. Booth, youhave your choice, madam, whether you will go with me, or remain in thecompany of this lady. "

"If so, madam, " answered Mrs. Booth, "I shall not be long indetermining to stay where I am. "

Mrs. Ellison then, casting a look of great indignation at both theladies, made a short speech full of invectives against Mrs. Atkinson, and not without oblique hints of ingratitude against poor Amelia;after which she burst out of the room, and out of the house, and madehaste to her own home, in a condition of mind to which fortune withoutguilt cannot, I believe, reduce any one. 

Indeed, how much the superiority of misery is on the side ofwickedness may appear to every reader who will compare the presentsituation of Amelia with that of Mrs. Ellison. Fortune had attackedthe former with almost the highest degree of her malice. She wasinvolved in a scene of most exquisite distress, and her husband, herprincipal comfort, torn violently from her arms; yet her sorrow, however exquisite, was all soft and tender, nor was she without manyconsolations. Her case, however hard, was not absolutely desperate;for scarce any condition of fortune can be so. Art and industry, chance and friends, have often relieved the most distrestcircumstances, and converted them into opulence. In all these she hadhopes on this side the grave, and perfect virtue and innocence gaveher the strongest assurances on the other. Whereas, in the bosom ofMrs. Ellison, all was storm and tempest; anger, revenge, fear, andpride, like so many raging furies, possessed her mind, and torturedher with disappointment and shame. Loss of reputation, which isgenerally irreparable, was to be her lot; loss of friends is of thisthe certain consequence; all on this side the grave appeared drearyand comfortless; and endless misery on the other, closed the gloomyprospect. 

Hence, my worthy reader, console thyself, that however few of theother good things of life are thy lot, the best of all things, whichis innocence, is always within thy own power; and, though Fortune maymake thee often unhappy, she can never make thee completely andirreparably miserable without thy own consent. 

Chapter iv. 

_Containing, among many matters, the exemplary behaviour of ColonelJames. _

When Mrs. Ellison was departed, Mrs. Atkinson began to apply all herart to soothe and comfort Amelia, but was presently prevented by her. "I am ashamed, dear madam, " said Amelia, "of having indulged myaffliction so much at your expense. The suddenness of the occasion ismy only excuse; for, had I had time to summon my resolution to myassistance, I hope I am mistress of more patience than you havehitherto seen me exert. I know, madam, in my unwarrantable excesses, Ihave been guilty of many transgressions. First, against that Divinewill and pleasure without whose permission, at least, no humanaccident can happen; in the next place, madam, if anything canaggravate such a fault, I have transgressed the laws of friendship aswell as decency, in throwing upon you some part of the load of mygrief; and again, I have sinned against common sense, which shouldteach me, instead of weakly and heavily lamenting my misfortunes, torouse all my spirits to remove them. In this light I am shocked at myown folly, and am resolved to leave my children under your care, andgo directly to my husband. I may comfort him. I may assist him. I mayrelieve him. There is nothing now too difficult for me to undertake. "

Mrs. Atkinson greatly approved and complimented her friend on all theformer part of her speech, except what related to herself, on whichshe spoke very civilly, and I believe with great truth; but as to herdetermination of going to her husband she endeavoured to dissuade her, at least she begged her to defer it for the present, and till theserjeant returned home. She then reminded Amelia that it was now pastfive in the afternoon, and that she had not taken any refreshment buta dish of tea the whole day, and desired she would give her leave toprocure her a chick, or anything she liked better, for her dinner. 

Amelia thanked her friend, and said she would sit down with her towhatever she pleased; "but if I do not eat, " said she, "I would nothave you impute it to anything but want of appetite; for I assure youall things are equally indifferent to me. I am more solicitous aboutthese poor little things, who have not been used to fast so long. Heaven knows what may hereafter be their fate!"

Mrs. Atkinson bid her hope the best, and then recommended the childrento the care of her maid. 

And now arrived a servant from Mrs. James, with an invitation toCaptain Booth and to his lady to dine with the colonel the day afterthe next. This a little perplexed Amelia; but after a shortconsideration she despatched an answer to Mrs. James, in which sheconcisely informed her of what had happened. 

The honest serjeant, who had been on his legs almost the whole day, now returned, and brought Amelia a short letter from her husband, inwhich he gave her the most solemn assurances of his health andspirits, and begged her with great earnestness to take care topreserve her own, which if she did, he said, he had no doubt but thatthey should shortly be happy. He added something of hopes from mylord, with which Mrs. Ellison had amused him, and which served only todestroy the comfort that Amelia received from the rest of his letter. 

Whilst Amelia, the serjeant, and his lady, were engaged in a coldcollation, for which purpose a cold chicken was procured from thetavern for the ladies, and two pound of cold beef for the serjeant, aviolent knocking was heard at the door, and presently afterwardsColonel James entered the room. After proper compliments had past, thecolonel told Amelia that her letter was brought to Mrs. James whilethey were at table, and that on her shewing it him he had immediatelyrose up, made an apology to his company, and took a chair to her. Hespoke to her with great tenderness on the occasion, and desired her tomake herself easy; assuring her that he would leave nothing in hispower undone to serve her husband. He then gave her an invitation, inhis wife's name, to his own house, in the most pressing manner. 

Amelia returned him very hearty thanks for all his kind offers, butbegged to decline that of an apartment in his house. She said, as shecould not leave her children, so neither could she think of bringingsuch a trouble with her into his family; and, though the colonel gaveher many assurances that her children, as well as herself, would bevery welcome to Mrs. James, and even betook himself to entreaties, shestill persisted obstinately in her refusal. 

In real truth, Amelia had taken a vast affection for Mrs. Atkinson, ofthe comfort of whose company she could not bear to be deprived in herdistress, nor to exchange it for that of Mrs. James, to whom she hadlately conceived no little dislike. 

The colonel, when he found he could not prevail with Amelia to accepthis invitation, desisted from any farther solicitations. He then tooka bank-bill of fifty pounds from his pocket-book, and said, "You willpardon me, dear madam, if I chuse to impute your refusal of my houserather to a dislike of my wife, who I will not pretend to be the mostagreeable of women (all men, " said he, sighing, "have not CaptainBooth's fortune), than to any aversion or anger to me. I must insistupon it, therefore, to make your present habitation as easy to you aspossible--I hope, madam, you will not deny me this happiness; I begyou will honour me with the acceptance of this trifle. " He then putthe note into her hand, and declared that the honour of touching itwas worth a hundred times that sum. 

"I protest, Colonel James, " cried Amelia, blushing, "I know not whatto do or say, your goodness so greatly confounds me. Can I, who am sowell acquainted with the many great obligations Mr. Booth already hathto your generosity, consent that you should add more to a debt wenever can pay?"

The colonel stopt her short, protesting that she misplaced theobligation; for, that if to confer the highest happiness was tooblige, he was obliged to her acceptance. "And I do assure you, madam, " said he, "if this trifling sum or a much larger can contributeto your ease, I shall consider myself as the happiest man upon earthin being able to supply it, and you, madam, my greatest benefactor inreceiving it. "

Amelia then put the note in her pocket, and they entered into aconversation in which many civil things were said on both sides; butwhat was chiefly worth remark was, that Amelia had almost her husbandconstantly in her mouth, and the colonel never mentioned him: theformer seemed desirous to lay all obligations, as much as possible, tothe account of her husband; and the latter endeavoured, with theutmost delicacy, to insinuate that her happiness was the main andindeed only point which he had in view. 

Amelia had made no doubt, at the colonel's first appearance, but thathe intended to go directly to her husband. When he dropt therefore ahint of his intention to visit him next morning she appeared visiblyshocked at the delay. The colonel, perceiving this, said, "Howeverinconvenient it may be, yet, madam, if it will oblige you, or if youdesire it, I will even go to-night. " Amelia answered, "My husband willbe far from desiring to derive any good from your inconvenience; but, if you put it to me, I must be excused for saying I desire nothingmore in the world than to send him so great a comfort as I know hewill receive from the presence of such a friend. " "Then, to show you, madam, " cries the colonel, "that I desire nothing more in the worldthan to give you pleasure, I will go to him immediately. "

Amelia then bethought herself of the serjeant, and told the colonelhis old acquaintance Atkinson, whom he had known at Gibraltar, wasthen in the house, and would conduct him to the place. The serjeantwas immediately called in, paid his respects to the colonel, and wasacknowledged by him. They both immediately set forward, Amelia to theutmost of her power pressing their departure. 

Mrs. Atkinson now returned to Amelia, and was by her acquainted withthe colonel's late generosity; for her heart so boiled over withgratitude that she could not conceal the ebullition. Amelia likewisegave her friend a full narrative of the colonel's former behaviour andfriendship to her husband, as well abroad as in England; and endedwith declaring that she believed him to be the most generous man uponearth. 

Mrs. Atkinson agreed with Amelia's conclusion, and said she was gladto hear there was any such man. They then proceeded with the childrento the tea-table, where panegyric, and not scandal, was the topic oftheir conversation; and of this panegyric the colonel was the subject;both the ladies seeming to vie with each other in celebrating thepraises of his goodness. 

Chapter v. 

_Comments upon authors. _

Having left Amelia in as comfortable a situation as could possibly beexpected, her immediate distresses relieved, and her heart filled withgreat hopes from the friendship of the colonel, we will now return toBooth, who, when the attorney and serjeant had left him, received avisit from that great author of whom honourable mention is made in oursecond chapter. 

Booth, as the reader may be pleased to remember, was a pretty goodmaster of the classics; for his father, though he designed his son forthe army, did not think it necessary to breed him up a blockhead. Hedid not, perhaps, imagine that a competent share of Latin and Greekwould make his son either a pedant or a coward. He consideredlikewise, probably, that the life of a soldier is in general a life ofidleness; and might think that the spare hours of an officer incountry quarters would be as well employed with a book as insauntering about the streets, loitering in a coffee-house, sotting ina tavern, or in laying schemes to debauch and ruin a set of harmlessignorant country girls. 

As Booth was therefore what might well be called, in this age atleast, a man of learning, he began to discourse our author on subjectsof literature. "I think, sir, " says he, "that Dr Swift hath beengenerally allowed, by the critics in this kingdom, to be the greatestmaster of humour that ever wrote. Indeed, I allow him to havepossessed most admirable talents of this kind; and, if Rabelais washis master, I think he proves the truth of the common Greek proverb--that the scholar is often superior to the master. As to Cervantes, Ido not think we can make any just comparison; for, though Mr. Popecompliments him with sometimes taking Cervantes' serious air--" "Iremember the passage, " cries the author;

"O thou, whatever title please thine ear, Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gulliver; Whether you take Cervantes' serious air, Or laugh andshake in Rabelais' easy chair--"

"You are right, sir, " said Booth; "but though I should agree that thedoctor hath sometimes condescended to imitate Rabelais, I do notremember to have seen in his works the least attempt in the manner ofCervantes. But there is one in his own way, and whom I am convinced hestudied above all others--you guess, I believe, I am going to nameLucian. This author, I say, I am convinced, he followed; but I thinkhe followed him at a distance: as, to say the truth, every otherwriter of this kind hath done in my opinion; for none, I think, hathyet equalled him. I agree, indeed, entirely with Mr. Moyle, in hisDiscourse on the age of the Philopatris, when he gives him the epithetof the incomparable Lucian; and incomparable, I believe, he willremain as long as the language in which he wrote shall endure. What aninimitable piece of humour is his Cock!" "I remember it very well, "cries the author; "his story of a Cock and a Bull is excellent. " Boothstared at this, and asked the author what he meant by the Bull? "Nay, "answered he, "I don't know very well, upon my soul. It is a long timesince I read him. I learnt him all over at school; I have not read himmuch since. And pray, sir, " said he, "how do you like his Pharsalia?don't you think Mr. Rowe's translation a very fine one?" Boothreplied, "I believe we are talking of different authors. ThePharsalia, which Mr. Rowe translated, was written by Lucan; but I havebeen speaking of Lucian, a Greek writer, and, in my opinion, thegreatest in the humorous way that ever the world produced. " "Ay!"cries the author, "he was indeed so, a very excellent writer indeed! Ifancy a translation of him would sell very well!" "I do not know, indeed, " cries Booth. "A good translation of him would be a valuablebook. I have seen a wretched one published by Mr. Dryden, buttranslated by others, who in many places have misunderstood Lucian'smeaning, and have nowhere preserved the spirit of the original. " "Thatis great pity, " says the author. "Pray, sir, is he well translated inthe French?" Booth answered, he could not tell; but that he doubted itvery much, having never seen a good version into that language out ofthe Greek. " To confess the truth, I believe, " said he, "the Frenchtranslators have generally consulted the Latin only; which, in some ofthe few Greek writers I have read, is intolerably bad. And as theEnglish translators, for the most part, pursue the French, we mayeasily guess what spirit those copies of bad copies must preserve ofthe original. "

"Egad, you are a shrewd guesser, " cries the author. "I am glad thebooksellers have not your sagacity. But how should it be otherwise, considering the price they pay by the sheet? The Greek, you willallow, is a hard language; and there are few gentlemen that write whocan read it without a good lexicon. Now, sir, if we were to affordtime to find out the true meaning of words, a gentleman would not getbread and cheese by his work. If one was to be paid, indeed, as Mr. Pope was for his Homer--Pray, sir, don't you think that the besttranslation in the world?"

"Indeed, sir, " cries Booth, "I think, though it is certainly a nobleparaphrase, and of itself a fine poem, yet in some places it is notranslation at all. In the very beginning, for instance, he hath notrendered the true force of the author. Homer invokes his muse in thefive first lines of the Iliad; and, at the end of the fifth, he giveshis reason:

 [Greek]

For all these things, " says he, "were brought about by the decree ofJupiter; and, therefore, he supposes their true sources are known onlyto the deities. Now, the translation takes no more notice of the [Greek]than if no such word had been there. "

"Very possibly, " answered the author; "it is a long time since I readthe original. Perhaps, then, he followed the French translations. Iobserve, indeed, he talks much in the notes of Madam Dacier andMonsieur Eustathius. "

Booth had now received conviction enough of his friend's knowledge ofthe Greek language; without attempting, therefore, to set him right, he made a sudden transition to the Latin. "Pray, sir, " said he, "asyou have mentioned Rowe's translation of the Pharsalia, do youremember how he hath rendered that passage in the character of Cato?--

 _----Venerisque huic maximus usus Progenies; urbi Pater est, urbique Maritus. _

For I apprehend that passage is generally misunderstood. "

"I really do not remember, " answered the author. "Pray, sir, what doyou take to be the meaning?"

"I apprehend, sir, " replied Booth, "that by these words, _Urbi Paterest, urbique Maritus_, Cato is represented as the father and husbandto the city of Rome. "

"Very true, sir, " cries the author; "very fine, indeed. --Not only thefather of his country, but the husband too; very noble, truly!"

"Pardon me, sir, " cries Booth; "I do not conceive that to have beenLucan's meaning. If you please to observe the context; Lucan, havingcommended the temperance of Cato in the instances of diet and cloaths, proceeds to venereal pleasures; of which, says the poet, his principaluse was procreation: then he adds, _Urbi Pater est, urbique Maritus;_that he became a father and a husband for the sake only of the city. "

"Upon my word that's true, " cries the author; "I did not think of it. It is much finer than the other. --_Urbis Pater est_--what is theother?--ay--_Urbis Maritus. _--It is certainly as you say, sir. "

Booth was by this pretty well satisfied of the author's profoundlearning; however, he was willing to try him a little farther. Heasked him, therefore, what was his opinion of Lucan in general, and inwhat class of writers he ranked him?

The author stared a little at this question; and, after somehesitation, answered, "Certainly, sir, I think he is a fine writer anda very great poet. "

"I am very much of the same opinion, " cries Booth; "but where do youclass him--next to what poet do you place him?"

"Let me see, " cries the author; "where do I class him? next to whom doI place him?--Ay!--why--why, pray, where do you yourself place him?"

"Why, surely, " cries Booth, "if he is not to be placed in the firstrank with Homer, and Virgil, and Milton, I think clearly he is at thehead of the second, before either Statius or Silius Italicus--though Iallow to each of these their merits; but, perhaps, an epic poem wasbeyond the genius of either. I own, I have often thought, if Statiushad ventured no farther than Ovid or Claudian, he would have succeededbetter; for his Sylvae are, in my opinion, much better than hisThebais. "

"I believe I was of the same opinion formerly, " said the author. 

"And for what reason have you altered it?" cries Booth. 

"I have not altered it, " answered the author; "but, to tell you thetruth, I have not any opinion at all about these matters at present. Ido not trouble my head much with poetry; for there is no encouragementto such studies in this age. It is true, indeed, I have now and thenwrote a poem or two for the magazines, but I never intend to write anymore; for a gentleman is not paid for his time. A sheet is a sheetwith the booksellers; and, whether it be in prose or verse, they makeno difference; though certainly there is as much difference to agentleman in the work as there is to a taylor between making a plainand a laced suit. Rhimes are difficult things; they are stubbornthings, sir. I have been sometimes longer in tagging a couplet than Ihave been in writing a speech on the side of the opposition which hathbeen read with great applause all over the kingdom. "

"I am glad you are pleased to confirm that, " cries Booth; "for Iprotest it was an entire secret to me till this day. I was soperfectly ignorant, that I thought the speeches published in themagazines were really made by the members themselves. "

"Some of them, and I believe I may, without vanity, say the best, "cries the author, "are all the productions of my own pen! but Ibelieve I shall leave it off soon, unless a sheet of speech will fetchmore than it does at present. In truth, the romance-writing is theonly branch of our business now that is worth following. Goods of thatsort have had so much success lately in the market, that a booksellerscarce cares what he bids for them. And it is certainly the easiestwork in the world; you may write it almost as fast as you can set pento paper; and if you interlard it with a little scandal, a littleabuse on some living characters of note, you cannot fail of success. "

"Upon my word, sir, " cries Booth, "you have greatly instructed me. Icould not have imagined there had been so much regularity in the tradeof writing as you are pleased to mention; by what I can perceive, thepen and ink is likely to become the staple commodity of the kingdom. "

"Alas! sir, " answered the author, "it is overstocked. The market isoverstocked. There is no encouragement to merit, no patrons. I havebeen these five years soliciting a subscription for my new translationof Ovid's Metamorphoses, with notes explanatory, historical, andcritical; and I have scarce collected five hundred names yet. "

The mention of this translation a little surprized Booth; not only asthe author had just declared his intentions to forsake the tunefulmuses; but, for some other reasons which he had collected from hisconversation with our author, he little expected to hear of a proposalto translate any of the Latin poets. He proceeded, therefore, tocatechise him a little farther; and by his answers was fully satisfiedthat he had the very same acquaintance with Ovid that he had appearedto have with Lucan. 

The author then pulled out a bundle of papers containing proposals forhis subscription, and receipts; and, addressing himself to Booth, said, "Though the place in which we meet, sir, is an improper place tosolicit favours of this kind, yet, perhaps, it may be in your power toserve me if you will charge your pockets with some of these. " Boothwas just offering at an excuse, when the bailiff introduced ColonelJames and the serjeant. 

The unexpected visit of a beloved friend to a man in affliction, especially in Mr. Booth's situation, is a comfort which can scarce beequalled; not barely from the hopes of relief or redress by hisassistance, but as it is an evidence of sincere friendship whichscarce admits of any doubt or suspicion. Such an instance doth indeedmake a man amends for all ordinary troubles and distresses; and weought to think ourselves gainers by having had such an opportunity ofdiscovering that we are possessed of one of the most valuable of allhuman possessions. 

Booth was so transported at the sight of the colonel, that he droptthe proposals which the author had put into his hands, and burst forthinto the highest professions of gratitude to his friend; who behavedvery properly on his side, and said everything which became the mouthof a friend on the occasion. 

It is true, indeed, he seemed not moved equally either with Booth orthe serjeant, both whose eyes watered at the scene. In truth, thecolonel, though a very generous man, had not the least grain oftenderness in his disposition. His mind was formed of those firmmaterials of which nature formerly hammered out the Stoic, and uponwhich the sorrows of no man living could make an impression. A man ofthis temper, who doth not much value danger, will fight for the personhe calls his friend, and the man that hath but little value for hismoney will give it him; but such friendship is never to be absolutelydepended on; for, whenever the favourite passion interposes with it, it is sure to subside and vanish into air. Whereas the man whosetender disposition really feels the miseries of another will endeavourto relieve them for his own sake; and, in such a mind, friendship willoften get the superiority over every other passion. 

But, from whatever motive it sprung, the colonel's behaviour to Boothseemed truly amiable; and so it appeared to the author, who took thefirst occasion to applaud it in a very florid oration; which thereader, when he recollects that he was a speech-maker by profession, will not be surprized at; nor, perhaps, will be much more surprizedthat he soon after took an occasion of clapping a proposal into thecolonel's hands, holding at the same time a receipt very visible inhis own. 

The colonel received both, and gave the author a guinea in exchange, which was double the sum mentioned in the receipt; for which theauthor made a low bow, and very politely took his leave, saying, "Isuppose, gentlemen, you may have some private business together; Iheartily wish a speedy end to your confinement, and I congratulate youon the possessing so great, so noble, and so generous a friend. "

Chapter vi. 

_Which inclines rather to satire than panegyric. _

The colonel had the curiosity to ask Booth the name of the gentlemanwho, in the vulgar language, had struck, or taken him in for a guineawith so much ease and dexterity. Booth answered, he did not know hisname; all that he knew of him was, that he was the most impudent andilliterate fellow he had ever seen, and that, by his own account, hewas the author of most of the wonderful productions of the age. "Perhaps, " said he, "it may look uncharitable in me to blame you foryour generosity; but I am convinced the fellow hath not the leastmerit or capacity, and you have subscribed to the most horrid trashthat ever was published. "

"I care not a farthing what he publishes, " cries the colonel. "Heavenforbid I should be obliged to read half the nonsense I have subscribedto. "

"But don't you think, " said Booth, "that by such indiscriminateencouragement of authors you do a real mischief to the society? Bypropagating the subscriptions of such fellows, people are tired outand withhold their contributions to men of real merit; and, at thesame time, you are contributing to fill the world, not only withnonsense, but with all the scurrility, indecency, and profaneness withwhich the age abounds, and with which all bad writers supply thedefect of genius. "

"Pugh!" cries the colonel, "I never consider these matters. Good orbad, it is all one to me; but there's an acquaintance of mine, and aman of great wit too, that thinks the worst the best, as they are thesurest to make him laugh. "

"I ask pardon, sir, " says the serjeant; "but I wish your honour wouldconsider your own affairs a little, for it grows late in the evening. "

"The serjeant says true, " answered the colonel. "What is it you intendto do?"

"Faith, colonel, I know not what I shall do. My affairs seem soirreparable, that I have been driving them as much as possibly I couldfrom my mind. If I was to suffer alone, I think I could bear them withsome philosophy; but when I consider who are to be the sharers in myfortune--the dearest of children, and the best, the worthiest, and thenoblest of women---Pardon me, my dear friend, these sensations areabove me; they convert me into a woman; they drive me to despair, tomadness. "

The colonel advised him to command himself, and told him this was notthe way to retrieve his fortune. "As to me, my dear Booth, " said he, "you know you may command me as far as is really within my power. "

Booth answered eagerly, that he was so far from expecting any morefavours from the colonel, that he had resolved not to let him knowanything of his misfortune. "No, my dear friend, " cries he, "I am toomuch obliged to you already;" and then burst into many ferventexpressions of gratitude, till the colonel himself stopt him, andbegged him to give an account of the debt or debts for which he wasdetained in that horrid place. 

Booth answered, he could not be very exact, but he feared it wasupwards of four hundred pounds. 

"It is but three hundred pounds, indeed, sir, " cries the serjeant; "ifyou can raise three hundred pounds, you are a free man this moment. "

Booth, who did not apprehend the generous meaning of the serjeant aswell as, I believe, the reader will, answered he was mistaken; that hehad computed his debts, and they amounted to upwards of four hundredpounds; nay, that the bailiff had shewn him writs for above that sum. 

"Whether your debts are three or four hundred, " cries the colonel, "the present business is to give bail only, and then you will havesome time to try your friends: I think you might get a company abroad, and then I would advance the money on the security of half your pay;and, in the mean time, I will be one of your bail with all my heart. "

Whilst Booth poured forth his gratitude for all this kindness, theserjeant ran down-stairs for the bailiff, and shortly after returnedwith him into the room. 

The bailiff, being informed that the colonel offered to be bail forhis prisoner, answered a little surlily, "Well, sir, and who will bethe other? you know, I suppose, there must be two; and I must havetime to enquire after them. "

The colonel replied, "I believe, sir, I am well known to beresponsible for a much larger sum than your demand on this gentleman;but, if your forms require two, I suppose the serjeant here will dofor the other. "

"I don't know the serjeant nor you either, sir, " cries Bondum; "and, if you propose yourselves bail for the gentleman, I must have time toenquire after you. "

"You need very little time to enquire after me, " says the colonel, "for I can send for several of the law, whom I suppose you know, tosatisfy you; but consider, it is very late. "

"Yes, sir, " answered Bondum, "I do consider it is too late for thecaptain to be bailed to-night. "

"What do you mean by too late?" cries the colonel. 

"I mean, sir, that I must search the office, and that is now shut up;for, if my lord mayor and the court of aldermen would be bound forhim, I would not discharge him till I had searched the office. "

"How, sir!" cries the colonel, "hath the law of England no more regardfor the liberty of the subject than to suffer such fellows as you todetain a man in custody for debt, when he can give undeniablesecurity?"

"Don't fellow me, " said the bailiff; "I am as good a fellow asyourself, I believe, though you have that riband in your hat there. "

"Do you know whom you are speaking to?" said the serjeant. "Do youknow you are talking to a colonel of the army?"

"What's a colonel of the army to me?" cries the bailiff. "I have hadas good as he in my custody before now. "

"And a member of parliament?" cries the serjeant. 

"Is the gentleman a member of parliament?--Well, and what harm have Isaid? I am sure I meant no harm; and, if his honour is offended, I askhis pardon; to be sure his honour must know that the sheriff isanswerable for all the writs in the office, though they were never somany, and I am answerable to the sheriff. I am sure the captain can'tsay that I have shewn him any manner of incivility since he hath beenhere. --And I hope, honourable sir, " cries he, turning to the colonel, "you don't take anything amiss that I said, or meant by way ofdisrespect, or any such matter. I did not, indeed, as the gentlemanhere says, know who I was speaking to; but I did not say anythinguncivil as I know of, and I hope no offence. "

The colonel was more easily pacified than might have been expected, and told the bailiff that, if it was against the rules of law todischarge Mr. Booth that evening, he must be contented. He thenaddressed himself to his friend, and began to prescribe comfort andpatience to him; saying, he must rest satisfied with his confinementthat night; and the next morning he promised to visit him again. 

Booth answered, that as for himself, the lying one night in any placewas very little worth his regard. "You and I, my dear friend, haveboth spent our evening in a worse situation than I shall in thishouse. All my concern is for my poor Amelia, whose sufferings onaccount of my absence I know, and I feel with unspeakable tenderness. Could I be assured she was tolerably easy, I could be contented inchains or in a dungeon. "

"Give yourself no concern on her account, " said the colonel; "I willwait on her myself, though I break an engagement for that purpose, andwill give her such assurances as I am convinced will make herperfectly easy. "

Booth embraced his friend, and, weeping over him, paid hisacknowledgment with tears for all his goodness. In words, indeed, hewas not able to thank him; for gratitude, joining with his otherpassions, almost choaked him, and stopt his utterance. 

After a short scene in which nothing past worth recounting, thecolonel bid his friend good night, and leaving the serjeant with him, made the best of his way back to Amelia. 

Chapter vii. 

_Worthy a very serious perusal. _

The colonel found Amelia sitting very disconsolate with Mrs. Atkinson. He entered the room with an air of great gaiety, assured Amelia thather husband was perfectly well, and that he hoped the next day hewould again be with her. 

Amelia was a little comforted at this account, and vented manygrateful expressions to the colonel for his unparalleled friendship, as she was pleased to call it. She could not, however, help giving waysoon after to a sigh at the thoughts of her husband's bondage, anddeclared that night would be the longest she had ever known. 

"This lady, madam, " cries the colonel, "must endeavour to make itshorter. And, if you will give me leave, I will join in the sameendeavour. " Then, after some more consolatory speeches, the colonelattempted to give a gay turn to the discourse, and said, "I wasengaged to have spent this evening disagreeably at Ranelagh, with aset of company I did not like. How vastly am I obliged to you, dearMrs. Booth, that I pass it so infinitely more to my satisfaction!"

"Indeed, colonel, " said Amelia, "I am convinced that to a mind sorightly turned as yours there must be a much sweeter relish in thehighest offices of friendship than in any pleasures which the gayestpublic places can afford. "

"Upon my word, madam, " said the colonel, "you now do me more thanjustice. I have, and always had, the utmost indifference for suchpleasures. Indeed, I hardly allow them worthy of that name, or, ifthey are so at all, it is in a very low degree. In my opinion thehighest friendship must always lead us to the highest pleasure. "

Here Amelia entered into a long dissertation on friendship, in whichshe pointed several times directly at the colonel as the hero of hertale. 

The colonel highly applauded all her sentiments; and when he could notavoid taking the compliment to himself, he received it with a mostrespectful bow. He then tried his hand likewise at description, inwhich he found means to repay all Amelia's panegyric in kind. This, though he did with all possible delicacy, yet a curious observer mighthave been apt to suspect that it was chiefly on her account that thecolonel had avoided the masquerade. 

In discourses of this kind they passed the evening, till it was verylate, the colonel never offering to stir from his chair before theclock had struck one; when he thought, perhaps, that decency obligedhim to take his leave. 

As soon as he was gone Mrs. Atkinson said to Mrs. Booth, "I think, madam, you told me this afternoon that the colonel was married?"

Amelia answered, she did so. 

"I think likewise, madam, " said Mrs. Atkinson, "you was acquaintedwith the colonel's lady?"

Amelia answered that she had been extremely intimate with her abroad. 

"Is she young and handsome?" said Mrs. Atkinson. "In short, pray, wasit a match of love or convenience?"

Amelia answered, entirely of love, she believed, on his side; for thatthe lady had little or no fortune. 

"I am very glad to hear it, " said Mrs. Atkinson; "for I am sure thecolonel is in love with somebody. I think I never saw a more lusciouspicture of love drawn than that which he was pleased to give us as theportraiture of friendship. I have read, indeed, of Pylades andOrestes, Damon and Pythias, and other great friends of old; nay, Isometimes flatter myself that I am capable of being a friend myself;but as for that fine, soft, tender, delicate passion, which he waspleased to describe, I am convinced there must go a he and a she tothe composition. "

"Upon my word, my dear, you are mistaken, " cries Amelia. "If you hadknown the friendship which hath always subsisted between the coloneland my husband, you would not imagine it possible for any descriptionto exceed it. Nay, I think his behaviour this very day is sufficientto convince you. "

"I own what he hath done to-day hath great merit, " said Mrs. Atkinson;"and yet, from what he hath said to-night--You will pardon me, dearmadam; perhaps I am too quick-sighted in my observations; nay, I amafraid I am even impertinent. "

"Fie upon it!" cries Amelia; "how can you talk in that strain? Do youimagine I expect ceremony? Pray speak what you think with the utmostfreedom. "

"Did he not then, " said Mrs. Atkinson, "repeat the words, _the finestwoman in the world_, more than once? did he not make use of anexpression which might have become the mouth of Oroondates himself?If I remember, the words were these--that, had he been Alexander theGreat, he should have thought it more glory to have wiped off a tearfrom the bright eyes of Statira than to have conquered fifty worlds. "

"Did he say so?" cries Amelia--"I think he did say something like it;but my thoughts were so full of my husband that I took little notice. But what would you infer from what he said? I hope you don't think heis in love with me?"

"I hope he doth not think so himself, " answered Mrs. Atkinson;"though, when he mentioned the bright eyes of Statira, he fixed hisown eyes on yours with the most languishing air I ever beheld. "

Amelia was going to answer, when the serjeant arrived, and then sheimmediately fell to enquiring after her husband, and received suchsatisfactory answers to all her many questions concerning him, thatshe expressed great pleasure. These ideas so possessed her mind, that, without once casting her thoughts on any other matters, she took herleave of the serjeant and his lady, and repaired to bed to herchildren, in a room which Mrs. Atkinson had provided her in the samehouse; where we will at present wish her a good night. 

Chapter viii. 

_Consisting of grave matters. _

While innocence and chearful hope, in spite of the malice of fortune, closed the eyes of the gentle Amelia on her homely bed, and sheenjoyed a sweet and profound sleep, the colonel lay restless all nighton his down; his mind was affected with a kind of ague fit; sometimesscorched up with flaming desires, and again chilled with the coldestdespair. 

There is a time, I think, according to one of our poets, _when lustand envy sleep_. This, I suppose, is when they are well gorged withthe food they most delight in; but, while either of these are hungry, Nor poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drousy syrups of the East, Will ever medicine them to slumber. 

The colonel was at present unhappily tormented by both these fiends. His last evening's conversation with Amelia had done his businesseffectually. The many kind words she had spoken to him, the many kindlooks she had given him, as being, she conceived, the friend andpreserver of her husband, had made an entire conquest of his heart. Thus the very love which she bore him, as the person to whom herlittle family were to owe their preservation and happiness, inspiredhim with thoughts of sinking them all in the lowest abyss of ruin andmisery; and, while she smiled with all her sweetness on the supposedfriend of her husband, she was converting that friend into his mostbitter enemy. 

 Friendship, take heed; if woman interfere, Be sure the hour of thy destruction's near. 

These are the lines of Vanbrugh; and the sentiment is better than thepoetry. To say the truth, as a handsome wife is the cause and cementof many false friendships, she is often too liable to destroy the realones. 

Thus the object of the colonel's lust very plainly appears, but theobject of his envy may be more difficult to discover. Nature andFortune had seemed to strive with a kind of rivalship which shouldbestow most on the colonel. The former had given him person, parts, and constitution, in all which he was superior to almost every otherman. The latter had given him rank in life, and riches, both in a veryeminent degree. Whom then should this happy man envy? Here, lestambition should mislead the reader to search the palaces of the great, we will direct him at once to Gray's-inn-lane; where, in a miserablebed, in a miserable room, he will see a miserable broken lieutenant, in a miserable condition, with several heavy debts on his back, andwithout a penny in his pocket. This, and no other, was the object ofthe colonel's envy. And why? because this wretch was possessed of theaffections of a poor little lamb, which all the vast flocks that werewithin the power and reach of the colonel could not prevent thatglutton's longing for. And sure this image of the lamb is notimproperly adduced on this occasion; for what was the colonel's desirebut to lead this poor lamb, as it were, to the slaughter, in order topurchase a feast of a few days by her final destruction, and to tearher away from the arms of one where she was sure of being fondled andcaressed all the days of her life. 

While the colonel was agitated with these thoughts, his greatestcomfort was, that Amelia and Booth were now separated; and hisgreatest terror was of their coming again together. From wishes, therefore, he began to meditate designs; and so far was he from anyintention of procuring the liberty of his friend, that he began toform schemes of prolonging his confinement, till he could procure somemeans of sending him away far from her; in which case he doubted notbut of succeeding in all he desired. 

He was forming this plan in his mind when a servant informed him thatone serjeant Atkinson desired to speak with his honour. The serjeantwas immediately admitted, and acquainted the colonel that, if hepleased to go and become bail for Mr. Booth, another unexceptionablehousekeeper would be there to join with him. This person the serjeanthad procured that morning, and had, by leave of his wife, given him abond of indemnification for the purpose. 

The colonel did not seem so elated with this news as Atkinsonexpected. On the contrary, instead of making a direct answer to whatAtkinson said, the colonel began thus: "I think, serjeant, Mr. Boothhath told me that you was foster-brother to his lady. She is really acharming woman, and it is a thousand pities she should ever have beenplaced in the dreadful situation she is now in. There is nothing sosilly as for subaltern officers of the army to marry, unless wherethey meet with women of very great fortunes indeed. What can be theevent of their marrying otherwise, but entailing misery and beggary ontheir wives and their posterity?"

"Ah! sir, " cries the serjeant, "it is too late to think of thosematters now. To be sure, my lady might have married one of the topgentlemen in the country; for she is certainly one of the best as wellas one of the handsomest women in the kingdom; and, if she had beenfairly dealt by, would have had a very great fortune into the bargain. Indeed, she is worthy of the greatest prince in the world; and, if Ihad been the greatest prince in the world, I should have thoughtmyself happy with such a wife; but she was pleased to like thelieutenant, and certainly there can be no happiness in marriagewithout liking. "

"Lookee, serjeant, " said the colonel; "you know very well that I amthe lieutenant's friend. I think I have shewn myself so. "

"Indeed your honour hath, " quoth the serjeant, "more than once to myknowledge. "

"But I am angry with him for his imprudence, greatly angry with himfor his imprudence; and the more so, as it affects a lady of so muchworth. "

"She is, indeed, a lady of the highest worth, " cries the serjeant. "Poor dear lady! I knew her, an 't please your honour, from herinfancy; and the sweetest-tempered, best-natured lady she is that evertrod on English ground. I have always loved her as if she was my ownsister. Nay, she hath very often called me brother; and I have takenit to be a greater honour than if I was to be called a generalofficer. "

"What pity it is, " said the colonel, "that this worthy creature shouldbe exposed to so much misery by the thoughtless behaviour of a manwho, though I am his friend, I cannot help saying, hath been guilty ofimprudence at least! Why could he not live upon his half-pay? What hadhe to do to run himself into debt in this outrageous manner?"

"I wish, indeed, " cries the serjeant, "he had been a little moreconsiderative; but I hope this will be a warning to him. "

"How am I sure of that, " answered the colonel; "or what reason isthere to expect it? extravagance is a vice of which men are not soeasily cured. I have thought a great deal of this matter, Mr. Serjeant; and, upon the most mature deliberation, I am of opinion thatit will be better, both for him and his poor lady, that he shouldsmart a little more. "

"Your honour, sir, to be sure is in the right, " replied the serjeant;"but yet, sir, if you will pardon me for speaking, I hope you will bepleased to consider my poor lady's case. She suffers, all this while, as much or more than the lieutenant; for I know her so well, that I amcertain she will never have a moment's ease till her husband is out ofconfinement. "

"I know women better than you, serjeant, " cries the colonel; "theysometimes place their affections on a husband as children do on theirnurse; but they are both to be weaned. I know you, serjeant, to be afellow of sense as well as spirit, or I should not speak so freely toyou; but I took a fancy to you a long time ago, and I intend to serveyou; but first, I ask you this question--Is your attachment to Mr. Booth or his lady?"

"Certainly, sir, " said the serjeant, "I must love my lady best. Notbut I have a great affection for the lieutenant too, because I know mylady hath the same; and, indeed, he hath been always very good to meas far as was in his power. A lieutenant, your honour knows, can't doa great deal; but I have always found him my friend upon alloccasions. "

"You say true, " cries the colonel; "a lieutenant can do but little;but I can do much to serve you, and will too. But let me ask you onequestion: Who was the lady whom I saw last night with Mrs. Booth ather lodgings?"

Here the serjeant blushed, and repeated, "The lady, sir?"

"Ay, a lady, a woman, " cries the colonel, "who supped with us lastnight. She looked rather too much like a gentlewoman for the mistressof a lodging-house. "

The serjeant's cheeks glowed at this compliment to his wife; and hewas just going to own her when the colonel proceeded: "I think I neversaw in my life so ill-looking, sly, demure a b---; I would givesomething, methinks, to know who she was. "

"I don't know, indeed, " cries the serjeant, in great confusion; "Iknow nothing about her. "

"I wish you would enquire, " said the colonel, "and let me know hername, and likewise what she is: I have a strange curiosity to know, and let me see you again this evening exactly at seven. "

"And will not your honour then go to the lieutenant this morning?"said Atkinson. 

"It is not in my power, " answered the colonel; "I am engaged anotherway. Besides, there is no haste in this affair. If men will beimprudent they must suffer the consequences. Come to me at seven, andbring me all the particulars you can concerning that ill-looking jadeI mentioned to you, for I am resolved to know who she is. And so good-morrow to you, serjeant; be assured I will take an opportunity to dosomething for you. "

Though some readers may, perhaps, think the serjeant not unworthy ofthe freedom with which the colonel treated him; yet that haughtyofficer would have been very backward to have condescended to suchfamiliarity with one of his rank had he not proposed some design fromit. In truth, he began to conceive hopes of making the serjeantinstrumental to his design on Amelia; in other words, to convert himinto a pimp; an office in which the colonel had been served byAtkinson's betters, and which, as he knew it was in his power verywell to reward him, he had no apprehension that the serjeant woulddecline--an opinion which the serjeant might have pardoned, though hehad never given the least grounds for it, since the colonel borrowedit from the knowledge of his own heart. This dictated to him that he, from a bad motive, was capable of desiring to debauch his friend'swife; and the same heart inspired him to hope that another, fromanother bad motive, might be guilty of the same breach of friendshipin assisting him. Few men, I believe, think better of others than ofthemselves; nor do they easily allow the existence of any virtue ofwhich they perceive no traces in their own minds; for which reason Ihave observed, that it is extremely difficult to persuade a rogue thatyou are an honest man; nor would you ever succeed in the attempt bythe strongest evidence, was it not for the comfortable conclusionwhich the rogue draws, that he who proves himself to be honest proveshimself to be a fool at the same time. 

Chapter ix. 

_A curious chapter, from which a curious reader may draw sundryobservations. _

The serjeant retired from the colonel in a very dejected state ofmind: in which, however, we must leave him awhile and return toAmelia; who, as soon as she was up, had despatched Mrs. Atkinson topay off her former lodgings, and to bring off all cloaths and othermoveables. 

The trusty messenger returned without performing her errand, for Mrs. Ellison had locked up all her rooms, and was gone out very early thatmorning, and the servant knew not whither she was gone. 

The two ladies now sat down to breakfast, together with Amelia's twochildren; after which, Amelia declared she would take a coach andvisit her husband. To this motion Mrs. Atkinson soon agreed, andoffered to be her companion. To say truth, I think it was reasonableenough; and the great abhorrence which Booth had of seeing his wife ina bailiff's house was, perhaps, rather too nice and delicate. 

When the ladies were both drest, and just going to send for theirvehicle, a great knocking was heard at the door, and presently Mrs. James was ushered into the room. 

This visit was disagreeable enough to Amelia, as it detained her fromthe sight of her husband, for which she so eagerly longed. However, asshe had no doubt but that the visit would be reasonably short, sheresolved to receive the lady with all the complaisance in her power. 

Mrs. James now behaved herself so very unlike the person that shelately appeared, that it might have surprized any one who doth notknow that besides that of a fine lady, which is all mere art andmummery, every such woman hath some real character at the bottom, inwhich, whenever nature gets the better of her, she acts. Thus thefinest ladies in the world will sometimes love, and sometimes scratch, according to their different natural dispositions, with great fury andviolence, though both of these are equally inconsistent with a finelady's artificial character. 

Mrs. James then was at the bottom a very good-natured woman, and themoment she heard of Amelia's misfortune was sincerely grieved at it. She had acquiesced on the very first motion with the colonel's designof inviting her to her house; and this morning at breakfast, when hehad acquainted her that Amelia made some difficulty in accepting theoffer, very readily undertook to go herself and persuade her friend toaccept the invitation. 

She now pressed this matter with such earnestness, that Amelia, whowas not extremely versed in the art of denying, was hardly able torefuse her importunity; nothing, indeed, but her affection to Mrs. Atkinson could have prevailed on her to refuse; that point, however, she would not give up, and Mrs. James, at last, was contented with apromise that, as soon as their affairs were settled, Amelia, with herhusband and family, would make her a visit, and stay some time withher in the country, whither she was soon to retire. 

Having obtained this promise, Mrs. James, after many very friendlyprofessions, took her leave, and, stepping into her coach, reassumedthe fine lady, and drove away to join her company at an auction. 

The moment she was gone Mrs. Atkinson, who had left the room upon theapproach of Mrs. James, returned into it, and was informed by Ameliaof all that had past. 

"Pray, madam, " said Mrs. Atkinson, "do this colonel and his lady live, as it is called, well together?"

"If you mean to ask, " cries Amelia, "whether they are a very fondcouple, I must answer that I believe they are not. "

"I have been told, " says Mrs. Atkinson, "that there have beeninstances of women who have become bawds to their own husbands, andthe husbands pimps for them. "

"Fie upon it!" cries Amelia. "I hope there are no such people. Indeed, my dear, this is being a little too censorious. "

"Call it what you please, " answered Mrs. Atkinson; "it arises from mylove to you and my fears for your danger. You know the proverb of aburnt child; and, if such a one hath any good-nature, it will dreadthe fire on the account of others as well as on its own. And, if I mayspeak my sentiments freely, I cannot think you will be in safety atthis colonel's house. "

"I cannot but believe your apprehensions to be sincere, " repliedAmelia; "and I must think myself obliged to you for them; but I amconvinced you are entirely in an error. I look on Colonel James as themost generous and best of men. He was a friend, and an excellentfriend too, to my husband, long before I was acquainted with him, andhe hath done him a thousand good offices. What do you say of hisbehaviour yesterday?"

"I wish, " cries Mrs. Atkinson, "that this behaviour to-day had beenequal. What I am now going to undertake is the most disagreeableoffice of friendship, but it is a necessary one. I must tell you, therefore, what past this morning between the colonel and Mr. Atkinson; for, though it will hurt you, you ought, on many accounts, to know it. " Here she related the whole, which we have recorded in thepreceding chapter, and with which the serjeant had acquainted herwhile Mrs. James was paying her visit to Amelia. And, as the serjeanthad painted the matter rather in stronger colours than the colonel, soMrs. Atkinson again a little improved on the serjeant. Neither ofthese good people, perhaps, intended to aggravate any circumstance;but such is, I believe, the unavoidable consequence of all reports. Mrs. Atkinson, indeed, may be supposed not to see what related toJames in the most favourable light, as the serjeant, with more honestythan prudence, had suggested to his wife that the colonel had not thekindest opinion of her, and had called her a sly and demure---: it istrue he omitted ill-looking b---; two words which are, perhaps, superior to the patience of any Job in petticoats that ever lived. Hemade amends, however, by substituting some other phrases in theirstead, not extremely agreeable to a female ear. 

It appeared to Amelia, from Mrs. Atkinson's relation, that the colonelhad grossly abused Booth to the serjeant, and had absolutely refusedto become his bail. Poor Amelia became a pale and motionless statue atthis account. At length she cried, "If this be true, I and mine areall, indeed, undone. We have no comfort, no hope, no friend left. Icannot disbelieve you. I know you would not deceive me. Why shouldyou, indeed, deceive me? But what can have caused this alterationsince last night? Did I say or do anything to offend him?"

"You said and did rather, I believe, a great deal too much to pleasehim, " answered Mrs. Atkinson. "Besides, he is not in the leastoffended with you. On the contrary, he said many kind things. "

"What can my poor love have done?" said Amelia. "He hath not seen thecolonel since last night. Some villain hath set him against myhusband; he was once before suspicious of such a person. Some cruelmonster hath belied his innocence!"

"Pardon me, dear madam, " said Mrs. Atkinson; "I believe the person whohath injured the captain with this friend of his is one of theworthiest and best of creatures--nay, do not be surprized; the personI mean is even your fair self: sure you would not be so dull in anyother case; but in this, gratitude, humility, modesty, every virtue, shuts your eyes. 

 _Mortales hebetant visus, _

as Virgil says. What in the world can be more consistent than hisdesire to have you at his own house and to keep your husband confinedin another? All that he said and all that he did yesterday, and, whatis more convincing to me than both, all that he looked last night, arevery consistent with both these designs. "

"O Heavens!" cries Amelia, "you chill my blood with horror! the ideafreezes me to death; I cannot, must not, will not think it. Nothingbut conviction! Heaven forbid I should ever have more conviction! Anddid he abuse my husband? what? did he abuse a poor, unhappy, distrestcreature, opprest, ruined, torn from his children, torn away from hiswretched wife; the honestest, worthiest, noblest, tenderest, fondest, best--" Here she burst into an agony of grief, which exceeds the powerof description. 

In this situation Mrs. Atkinson was doing her utmost to support herwhen a most violent knocking was heard at the door, and immediatelythe serjeant ran hastily into the room, bringing with him a cordialwhich presently relieved Amelia. What this cordial was, we shallinform the reader in due time. In the mean while he must suspend hiscuriosity; and the gentlemen at White's may lay wagers whether it wasWard's pill or Dr James's powder. 

But before we close this chapter, and return back to the bailiff'shouse, we must do our best to rescue the character of our heroine fromthe dulness of apprehension, which several of our quick-sightedreaders may lay more heavily to her charge than was done by her friendMrs. Atkinson. 

I must inform, therefore, all such readers, that it is not becauseinnocence is more blind than guilt that the former often overlooks andtumbles into the pit which the latter foresees and avoids. The truthis, that it is almost impossible guilt should miss the discovering ofall the snares in its way, as it is constantly prying closely intoevery corner in order to lay snares for others. Whereas innocence, having no such purpose, walks fearlessly and carelessly through life, and is consequently liable to tread on the gins which cunning hathlaid to entrap it. To speak plainly and without allegory or figure, itis not want of sense, but want of suspicion, by which innocence isoften betrayed. Again, we often admire at the folly of the dupe, whenwe should transfer our whole surprize to the astonishing guilt of thebetrayer. In a word, many an innocent person hath owed his ruin tothis circumstance alone, that the degree of villany was such as musthave exceeded the faith of every man who was not himself a villain. 

Chapter x. 

_In which are many profound secrets of philosophy. _

Booth, having had enough of the author's company the preceding day, chose now another companion. Indeed the author was not very solicitousof a second interview; for, as he could have no hope from Booth'spocket, so he was not likely to receive much increase to his vanityfrom Booth's conversation; for, low as this wretch was in virtue, sense, learning, birth, and fortune, he was by no means low in hisvanity. This passion, indeed, was so high in him, and at the same timeso blinded him to his own demerits, that he hated every man who didnot either flatter him or give him money. In short, he claimed astrange kind of right, either to cheat all his acquaintance of theirpraise or to pick their pockets of their pence, in which latter casehe himself repaid very liberally with panegyric. 

A very little specimen of such a fellow must have satisfied a man ofMr. Booth's temper. He chose, therefore, now to associate himself withthat gentleman of whom Bondum had given so shabby a character. Inshort, Mr. Booth's opinion of the bailiff was such, that herecommended a man most where he least intended it. Nay, the bailiff inthe present instance, though he had drawn a malicious conclusion, honestly avowed that this was drawn only from the poverty of theperson, which is never, I believe, any forcible disrecommendation to agood mind: but he must have had a very bad mind indeed, who, in Mr. Booth's circumstances, could have disliked or despised another manbecause that other man was poor. 

Some previous conversation having past between this gentleman andBooth, in which they had both opened their several situations to eachother, the former, casting an affectionate look on the latter, exprestgreat compassion for his circumstances, for which Booth, thanking him, said, "You must have a great deal of compassion, and be a very goodman, in such a terrible situation as you describe yourself, to haveany pity to spare for other people. "

"My affairs, sir, " answered the gentleman, "are very bad, it is true, and yet there is one circumstance which makes you appear to me morethe object of pity than I am to myself; and it is this--that you mustfrom your years be a novice in affliction, whereas I have served along apprenticeship to misery, and ought, by this time, to be a prettygood master of my trade. To say the truth, I believe habit teaches mento bear the burthens of the mind, as it inures them to bear heavyburthens on their shoulders. Without use and experience, the strongestminds and bodies both will stagger under a weight which habit mightrender easy and even contemptible. "

"There is great justice, " cries Booth, "in the comparison; and I thinkI have myself experienced the truth of it; for I am not that tyro inaffliction which you seem to apprehend me. And perhaps it is from thevery habit you mention that I am able to support my presentmisfortunes a little like a man. "

The gentleman smiled at this, and cried, "Indeed, captain, you are ayoung philosopher. "

"I think, " cries Booth, "I have some pretensions to that philosophywhich is taught by misfortunes, and you seem to be of opinion, sir, that is one of the best schools of philosophy. "

"I mean no more, sir, " said the gentleman, "than that in the days ofour affliction we are inclined to think more seriously than in thoseseasons of life when we are engaged in the hurrying pursuits ofbusiness or pleasure, when we have neither leisure nor inclination tosift and examine things to the bottom. Now there are twoconsiderations which, from my having long fixed my thoughts upon them, have greatly supported me under all my afflictions. The one is thebrevity of life even at its longest duration, which the wisest of menhath compared to the short dimension of a span. One of the Roman poetscompares it to the duration of a race; and another, to the muchshorter transition of a wave. 

"The second consideration is the uncertainty of it. Short as itsutmost limits are, it is far from being assured of reaching thoselimits. The next day, the next hour, the next moment, may be the endof our course. Now of what value is so uncertain, so precarious astation? This consideration, indeed, however lightly it is passed overin our conception, doth, in a great measure, level all fortunes andconditions, and gives no man a right to triumph in the happiest state, or any reason to repine in the most miserable. Would the most worldlymen see this in the light in which they examine all other matters, they would soon feel and acknowledge the force of this way ofreasoning; for which of them would give any price for an estate fromwhich they were liable to be immediately ejected? or, would they notlaugh at him as a madman who accounted himself rich from such anuncertain possession? This is the fountain, sir, from which I havedrawn my philosophy. Hence it is that I have learnt to look on allthose things which are esteemed the blessings of life, and those whichare dreaded as its evils, with such a degree of indifference that, asI should not be elated with possessing the former, so neither am Igreatly dejected and depressed by suffering the latter. Is the actoresteemed happier to whose lot it falls to play the principal part thanhe who plays the lowest? and yet the drama may run twenty nightstogether, and by consequence may outlast our lives; but, at the best, life is only a little longer drama, and the business of the greatstage is consequently a little more serious than that which isperformed at the Theatre-royal. But even here, the catastrophes andcalamities which are represented are capable of affecting us. Thewisest men can deceive themselves into feeling the distresses of atragedy, though they know them to be merely imaginary; and thechildren will often lament them as realities: what wonder then, ifthese tragical scenes which I allow to be a little more serious, should a little more affect us? where then is the remedy but in thephilosophy I have mentioned, which, when once by a long course ofmeditation it is reduced to a habit, teaches us to set a just value oneverything, and cures at once all eager wishes and abject fears, allviolent joy and grief concerning objects which cannot endure long, andmay not exist a moment. "

"You have exprest yourself extremely well, " cries Booth; "and Ientirely agree with the justice of your sentiments; but, however trueall this may be in theory, I still doubt its efficacy in practice. Andthe cause of the difference between these two is this; that we reasonfrom our heads, but act from our hearts:

 _---Video meliora, proboque; Deteriora sequor. _

Nothing can differ more widely than wise men and fools in theirestimation of things; but, as both act from their uppermost passion, they both often act like. What comfort then can your philosophy giveto an avaricious man who is deprived of his riches or to an ambitiousman who is stript of his power? to the fond lover who is torn from hismistress or to the tender husband who is dragged from his wife? Do youreally think that any meditations on the shortness of life will soothethem in their afflictions? Is not this very shortness itself one oftheir afflictions? and if the evil they suffer be a temporarydeprivation of what they love, will they not think their fate theharder, and lament the more, that they are to lose any part of anenjoyment to which there is so short and so uncertain a period?"

"I beg leave, sir, " said the gentleman, "to distinguish here. Byphilosophy, I do not mean the bare knowledge of right and wrong, butan energy, a habit, as Aristotle calls it; and this I do firmlybelieve, with him and with the Stoics, is superior to all the attacksof fortune. "

He was proceeding when the bailiff came in, and in a surly tone badthem both good-morrow; after which he asked the philosopher if he wasprepared to go to Newgate; for that he must carry him thither thatafternoon. 

The poor man seemed very much shocked with this news. "I hope, " crieshe, "you will give a little longer time, if not till the return of thewrit. But I beg you particularly not to carry me thither to-day, for Iexpect my wife and children here in the evening. "

"I have nothing to do with wives and children, " cried the bailiff; "Inever desire to see any wives and children here. I like no suchcompany. "

"I intreat you, " said the prisoner, "give me another day. I shall takeit as a great obligation; and you will disappoint me in the cruellestmanner in the world if you refuse me. "

"I can't help people's disappointments, " cries the bailiff; "I mustconsider myself and my own family. I know not where I shall be paidthe money that's due already. I can't afford to keep prisoners at myown expense. "

"I don't intend it shall be at your expense" cries the philosopher;"my wife is gone to raise money this morning; and I hope to pay youall I owe you at her arrival. But we intend to sup together to-nightat your house; and, if you should remove me now, it would be the mostbarbarous disappointment to us both, and will make me the mostmiserable man alive. "

"Nay, for my part, " said the bailiff, "I don't desire to do anythingbarbarous. I know how to treat gentlemen with civility as well asanother. And when people pay as they go, and spend their money likegentlemen, I am sure nobody can accuse me of any incivility since Ihave been in the office. And if you intend to be merry to-night I amnot the man that will prevent it. Though I say it, you may have asgood a supper drest here as at any tavern in town. "

"Since Mr. Bondum is so kind, captain, " said the philosopher, "I hopefor the favour of your company. I assure you, if it ever be my fortuneto go abroad into the world, I shall be proud of the honour of youracquaintance. "

"Indeed, sir, " cries Booth, "it is an honour I shall be very ready toaccept; but as for this evening, I cannot help saying I hope to beengaged in another place. "

"I promise you, sir, " answered the other, "I shall rejoice at yourliberty, though I am a loser by it. "

"Why, as to that matter, " cries Bondum with a sneer, "I fancy, captain, you may engage yourself to the gentleman without any fear ofbreaking your word; for I am very much mistaken if we part to-day. "

"Pardon me, my good friend, " said Booth, "but I expect my bail everyminute. "

"Lookee, sir, " cries Bondum, "I don't love to see gentlemen in anerror. I shall not take the serjeant's bail; and as for the colonel, Ihave been with him myself this morning (for to be sure I love to doall I can for gentlemen), and he told me he could not possibly be hereto-day; besides, why should I mince the matter? there is more stuff inthe office. "

"What do you mean by stuff?" cries Booth. 

"I mean that there is another writ, " answered the bailiff, "at thesuit of Mrs. Ellison, the gentlewoman that was here yesterday; and theattorney that was with her is concerned against you. Some officerswould not tell you all this; but I loves to shew civility to gentlemenwhile they behave themselves as such. And I loves the gentlemen of thearmy in particular. I had like to have been in the army myself once;but I liked the commission I have better. Come, captain, let not yournoble courage be cast down; what say you to a glass of white wine, ora tiff of punch, by way of whet?"

"I have told you, sir, I never drink in the morning, " cries Booth alittle peevishly. 

"No offence I hope, sir, " said the bailiff; "I hope I have not treatedyou with any incivility. I don't ask any gentleman to call for liquorin my house if he doth not chuse it; nor I don't desire anybody tostay here longer than they have a mind to. Newgate, to be sure, is theplace for all debtors that can't find bail. I knows what civility is, and I scorn to behave myself unbecoming a gentleman: but I'd have youconsider that the twenty-four hours appointed by act of parliament arealmost out; and so it is time to think of removing. As to bail, Iwould not have you flatter yourself; for I knows very well there areother things coming against you. Besides, the sum you are alreadycharged with is very large, and I must see you in a place of safety. My house is no prison, though I lock up for a little time in it. Indeed, when gentlemen are gentlemen, and likely to find bail, I don'tstand for a day or two; but I have a good nose at a bit of carrion, captain; I have not carried so much carrion to Newgate, withoutknowing the smell of it. "

"I understand not your cant, " cries Booth; "but I did not think tohave offended you so much by refusing to drink in a morning. "

"Offended me, sir!" cries the bailiff. "Who told you so? Do you think, sir, if I want a glass of wine I am under any necessity of asking myprisoners for it? Damn it, sir, I'll shew you I scorn your words. Ican afford to treat you with a glass of the best wine in England, ifyou comes to that. " He then pulled out a handful of guineas, saying, "There, sir, they are all my own; I owe nobody a shilling. I am nobeggar, nor no debtor. I am the king's officer as well as you, and Iwill spend guinea for guinea as long as you please. "

"Harkee, rascal, " cries Booth, laying hold of the bailiff's collar. "How dare you treat me with this insolence? doth the law give you anyauthority to insult me in my misfortunes?" At which words he gave thebailiff a good shove, and threw him from him. 

"Very well, sir, " cries the bailiff; "I will swear both an assault andan attempt to a rescue. If officers are to be used in this manner, there is an end of all law and justice. But, though I am not a matchfor you myself, I have those below that are. " He then ran to the doorand called up two ill-looking fellows, his followers, whom, as soon asthey entered the room, he ordered to seize on Booth, declaring hewould immediately carry him to Newgate; at the same time pouring out avast quantity of abuse, below the dignity of history to record. 

Booth desired the two dirty fellows to stand off, and declared hewould make no resistance; at the same time bidding the bailiff carryhim wherever he durst. 

"I'll shew you what I dare, " cries the bailiff; and again ordered thefollowers to lay hold of their prisoner, saying, "He has assaulted mealready, and endeavoured a rescue. I shan't trust such a fellow towalk at liberty. A gentleman, indeed! ay, ay, Newgate is the properestplace for such gentry; as arrant carrion as ever was carried thither. "

The fellows then both laid violent hands on Booth, and the bailiffstept to the door to order a coach; when, on a sudden, the whole scenewas changed in an instant; for now the serjeant came running out ofbreath into the room; and, seeing his friend the captain roughlyhandled by two ill-looking fellows, without asking any questions steptbriskly up to his assistance, and instantly gave one of the assailantsso violent a salute with his fist, that he directly measured hislength on the floor. 

Booth, having by this means his right arm at liberty, was unwilling tobe idle, or entirely to owe his rescue from both the ruffians to theserjeant; he therefore imitated the example which his friend had sethim, and with a lusty blow levelled the other follower with hiscompanion on the ground. 

The bailiff roared out, "A rescue, a rescue!" to which the serjeantanswered there was no rescue intended. "The captain, " said he, "wantsno rescue. Here are some friends coming who will deliver him in abetter manner. "

The bailiff swore heartily he would carry him to Newgate in spite ofall the friends in the world. 

"You carry him to Newgate!" cried the serjeant, with the highestindignation. "Offer but to lay your hands on him, and I will knockyour teeth down your ugly jaws. " Then, turning to Booth, he cried, "They will be all here within a minute, sir; we had much ado to keepmy lady from coming herself; but she is at home in good health, longing to see your honour; and I hope you will be with her withinthis half-hour. "

And now three gentlemen entered the room; these were an attorney, theperson whom the serjeant had procured in the morning to be his bailwith Colonel James, and lastly Doctor Harrison himself. 

The bailiff no sooner saw the attorney, with whom he was wellacquainted (for the others he knew not), than he began, as the phraseis, to pull in his horns, and ordered the two followers, who were nowgot again on their legs, to walk down-stairs. 

"So, captain, " says the doctor, "when last we parted, I believe weneither of us expected to meet in such a place as this. "

"Indeed, doctor, " cries Booth, "I did not expect to have been senthither by the gentleman who did me that favour. "

"How so, sir?" said the doctor; "you was sent hither by some person, Isuppose, to whom you was indebted. This is the usual place, Iapprehend, for creditors to send their debtors to. But you ought to bemore surprized that the gentleman who sent you hither is come torelease you. Mr. Murphy, you will perform all the necessaryceremonials. "

The attorney then asked the bailiff with how many actions Booth wascharged, and was informed there were five besides the doctor's, whichwas much the heaviest of all. Proper bonds were presently provided, and the doctor and the serjeant's friend signed them; the bailiff, atthe instance of the attorney, making no objection to the bail. 

[Illustration: _Lawyer Murphy_]

Booth, we may be assured, made a handsome speech to the doctor forsuch extraordinary friendship, with which, however, we do not thinkproper to trouble the reader; and now everything being ended, and thecompany ready to depart, the bailiff stepped up to Booth, and told himhe hoped he would remember civility-money. 

"I believe" cries Booth, "you mean incivility-money; if there are anyfees due for rudeness, I must own you have a very just claim. "

"I am sure, sir, " cries the bailiff, "I have treated your honour withall the respect in the world; no man, I am sure, can charge me withusing a gentleman rudely. I knows what belongs to a gentleman better;but you can't deny that two of my men have been knocked down; and Idoubt not but, as you are a gentleman, you will give them something todrink. "

Booth was about to answer with some passion, when the attorneyinterfered, and whispered in his ear that it was usual to make acompliment to the officer, and that he had better comply with thecustom. 

"If the fellow had treated me civilly, " answered Booth, "I should havehad no objection to comply with a bad custom in his favour; but I amresolved I will never reward a man for using me ill; and I will notagree to give him a single farthing. "

"'Tis very well, sir, " said the bailiff; "I am rightly served for mygood-nature; but, if it had been to do again, I would have taken careyou should not have been bailed this day. "

Doctor Harrison, to whom Booth referred the cause, after giving him asuccinct account of what had passed, declared the captain to be in theright. He said it was a most horrid imposition that such fellows wereever suffered to prey on the necessitous; but that the example wouldbe much worse to reward them where they had behaved themselves ill. "And I think, " says he, "the bailiff is worthy of great rebuke forwhat he hath just now said; in which I hope he hath boasted of morepower than is in him. We do, indeed, with great justice and proprietyvalue ourselves on our freedom if the liberty of the subject dependson the pleasure of such fellows as these!"

"It is not so neither altogether, " cries the lawyer; "but custom hathestablished a present or fee to them at the delivery of a prisoner, which they call civility-money, and expect as in a manner their due, though in reality they have no right. "

"But will any man, " cries Doctor Harrison, "after what the captainhath told us, say that the bailiff hath behaved himself as he ought;and, if he had, is he to be rewarded for not acting in an unchristianand inhuman manner? it is pity that, instead of a custom of feeingthem out of the pockets of the poor and wretched, when they do notbehave themselves ill, there was not both a law and a practice topunish them severely when they do. In the present case, I am so farfrom agreeing to give the bailiff a shilling, that, if there be anymethod of punishing him for his rudeness, I shall be heartily glad tosee it put in execution; for there are none whose conduct should be sostrictly watched as that of these necessary evils in the society, astheir office concerns for the most part those poor creatures whocannot do themselves justice, and as they are generally the worst ofmen who undertake it. "

The bailiff then quitted the room, muttering that he should knowbetter what to do another time; and shortly after, Booth and hisfriends left the house; but, as they were going out, the author tookDoctor Harrison aside, and slipt a receipt into his hand, which thedoctor returned, saying, he never subscribed when he neither knew thework nor the author; but that, if he would call at his lodgings, hewould be very willing to give all the encouragement to merit which wasin his power. 

The author took down the doctor's name and direction, and made him asmany bows as he would have done had he carried off the half-guinea forwhich he had been fishing. 

Mr. Booth then took his leave of the philosopher, and departed withthe rest of his friends. 

END OF VOL. II.