Presented to the
LIBRARY of the
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
by
Mrs . Andrew Kellogg
STANDARD
NOVELS.
N° II.
CALEB WILLIAMS,
BY WILLIAM GODWIN,
courier! ix OM> iot.au*.
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY,
NEW BURLINGTON STREET;
BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH}
AND CUMM1NG, DUBLIN.
1831.
LONDON :
Printed by A. & K. Spottiswoode,
New-Street- Square.
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WILLIAM GODWIN.
WILLIAM GODWIN was born at Wisbeach, in Cam-
bridgeshire, 3d March, 1756. Hie grandfather had
been a dissenting minister in London. His father was
also a clergyman. In the year 1760 the father re-
moved with his family to a village about sixteen miles
north of Norwich, where he presided over a congre-
gation. William was one of many children, neither
the eldest nor the youngest among them. Very early,
even in childhood, he developed that love of acquire-
ment and knowledge which stamped his future career.
In the year 1767 he was placed with a private tutor at
Norwich, for the purposes of classical education. Mr.
Godwin has very recently published a work (" Thought*
on Man, his Nature, Productions, and Discoveries,")
which contains various interesting particulars respect-
ing himself. From this we learn that he had in youth
" a prominent vein of docility/' He adds, " Whatever
A 2
IV MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM GODWIN.
it was proposed to teach me, that was in any degree
accordant with my constitution and capacity, I was
willing to learn." He continues : " I was ambitious to
be a leader, and to be regarded by others with feelings
of complacency." From these circumstances it is
evident that Mr. Godwin was not one of those youths,
who, strenuously active and eager in the pursuit of
some peculiar knowledge of their own selection, rebel
against authority, and are tortured by the regular ap-
plication required to the common-place routine of edu-
cation. Reason and a love of investigation were the
characteristics of Godwin, even in boyhood, added to
what »he himself describes as " a sort of constitutional
equanimity and imperturbableness of temper."
In the year 1773 Mr. Godwin was placed at a col-
lege for dissenters at Hoxton, for the purpose of being
educated for the church. Dr. Kippis and Dr. llees were
two of the principal professors at this college ; and the
tenets in vogue there inclined to Unitarianism. Mr.
Godwin had been bred a Calvinist, and was the farthest
in the world from that temper of mind which is blown
about by every new wind of opinion. Opposition made
him more tenaciously cling to his own turn of think-
ing, and adhere to the persuasion in which he had
been brought up. In the year 1778 he became mi-
nister to a congregation not far from the metropolis.
He continued in the exercise of the duties of a clergy-
man for five years; after which he gave it up, in the year
MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM GODWIN. V
1783, and came to reside in London ; where he became
an author, at once subsisting by the fruits of his pen,
and educating himself by its exercise for those works of
genius and immortality which he was destined to pro-
duce. He soon became distinguished among his con-
temporaries, and frequented the society of many of the
political leaders of the day, among whom Fox and
Sheridan held the first rank. Added to this was a
literary circle formed of men of talent and genius.
While at college, Mr. Godwin describes himself as
reading " all sorts of books, on every side of any im-
portant question, that were thrown in his way;" —
among these he was peculiarly attracted by the Roman
historians, and in particular by Livy. These works
made him early in life a republican in theory. The
French revolution, which broke out in 1789, when he
was already engaged in his career as an author,
turned his attention still more definitely to political
subjects. Discussion on various points — discussion,
animated by the living drama of change enacted in
France, and warmed by the animated hopes and fears
of the parties —was, far more than now, the order
of the day in society; and Godwin, intimately con-
nected with the Whigs of this country, found himself
more than ever roused to investigate the momentous
topic of the liberty of nations. The result of his
meditations and his labours was " Political Justice,"
published early in the year 1793. At once the book and
VI MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM GODWIN.
its author rose to a place of eminence in the public eye. .
The daring nature of his tenets, the energetic yet
unaffected flow of his eloquence, the heartfelt sincerity
and love of truth that accompanied his disquisitions,
seemed, as by magic, to throw down a thousand barriers,
and to level a thousand fortifications, which had hitherto
defended and kept secure the inner fortresses of
public prejudices or opinions. Mild and benevolent of
aspect, gentle and courteous of manner, the author
himself presented a singular contrast in appearance, to
the boldness of his speculations. But beneath this
apparent quiescence there was a latent fire: his intellect
was all animation ; he never receded from contest, or
declined argument ; and he derived extreme pleasure
from this exercise of the powers of his mind.
Early in the following year Mr. Godwin again ap-
peared as an author: " Caleb Williams" was published —
a novel which, in despite of the brilliant works of the
same species which have since adorned our literature,
still holds its place, and has been frequently, and we
are apt to believe irrevocably, pronounced the best
in -our language. It raised Godwin's reputation to
the pinnacle. All that might have offended, as hard
and republican in his larger work, was obliterated by
the .splendour and noble beauty of the character of
Falkland.
Towards the end of this year Mr. Godwin's talents
were called forth on a still more conspicuous arena.
MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM GODWIN. i\
It was not until 1 797 that he published « The Enquirer,"
a work consisting of essays, developing, under various
aspects, the tenets of his greater work. In one thing,
from his very first outset as an author, Godwin held
himself fortunate : this was in his publisher. Robinson
has often been mentioned as a man of extreme liberality :
towards Mr. Godwin he always acted in a way at once
to encourage, facilitate, and recompense his labours.
Towards the beginning of the year 1797 Godwin
married Mary Wollstonecrafl. The writings of this
celebrated woman are monuments of her moral and in-
tellectual superiority. Her lofty spirit, her eager asser-
tion of the claims of her sex, animate the "Vindication
of the Rights of Woman ;" while the sweetness and
taste displayed in her " Letters from Norway" depict
the softer qualities of her admirable character. Even
now, those who have survived her so many years, never
speak of her but with uncontrollable enthusiasm.
Her unwearied exertions for the benefit of others, her
rectitude, her independence, joined to a warm affec-
tionate heart, and the most refined softness of manners,
made her the idol of all who knew her. Mr. Godwin
was not allowed long to enjoy the happiness he reaped
from this union. Mary Wollstonecraft died the 10th
September 1797, having given birth to a daughter, the
present Mrs. Shelley.
The next work of Mr. Godwin was the romance of
" St. Leon," published in 1799. The domestic happi-
ness he had enjoyed, colours and adorns the scenes of
• a
X MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM GODWIN.
this book ; and the high idea of the feminine character
which naturally resulted from his intercourse with the
ornament of her sex, imparted dignity and grandeur to
the character of the heroine of this work. In eloquence
and interest and deep knowledge of human nature, St.
Leon takes a first place among imaginative productions.
In 1QOO Mr. Godwin visited Ireland. He resided
while there principally with Curran, and associated
intimately with Grattan, and all the other illustrious
Irish patriots. In 1801 Mr. Godwin again married
.a widow lady of considerable personal attractions
.and accomplishments. The sole offspring of this mar-
riage was a son, born in 1803. In the same year he
published the "Life of Chaucer;" a work displaying
accurate research and refined taste, and presenting at
once a correct and animated picture of the times of
the poet. This was followed in 1804- by a third
novel, entitled " Fleetwood," characterised by elegance
•of style and force of passion, less striking perhaps
.than his former works of imagination, yet not less full
of beauty and interest.
After this period Mr. Godwin rested for a consider-
able interval from his literary labours, being chiefly
occupied by various exertions and speculations for the
maintenance of his family. The " Essay on Sepulchres,"
published in 1808, stands a solitary record that the
fire still burnt, pure and undiminished, though con-
.cealed. In 1816 he visited Edinburgh, where he
formed an acquaintance with Walter Scott and other
MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM GODWIN. XI
celebrated Scotch writers ; and here also he entered
into a treaty with Mr. Constable, the bookseller, for the
composition of a new novel. " Mandeville," published
in 1817, was the result. We here trace the mellow-
ness of ripened years ; the reading, the study, the
careful polish of maturity, adorning, but not diminish-
ing, the untamed energy and eloquence of his earlier
works. Solemn and tragic as is the groundwork of
" Mandeville," it surpasses, we almost venture to say,
all Mr. Godwin's productions in grace of diction, and
forcible developement of human feeling. About this
time Mr. Godwin sustained a great personal loss in the
death of Mr. Curran. Their friendship was of many
years' standing ; and since Cumin's retirement from
public life, and residence in London, they had been
drawn closer together than ever.
In 1820 his work in opposition to, and refuting, the
opinions of Malthus appeared. Fervently attached to all
that is lofty, independent, and elevating in his specu-
lations on human society, Godwin strenuously contro-
verted the degrading, hard, and demoralising tenets of
the author of the Essay on Population. His book, exact
in logic, and powerful in eloquence, would probably have
been considered as a complete answer to his adversary,
did not Malthus's notions favour so memorably the vices
of the great, and all that is rotten in our institutions.
After this, Mr. Godwin was occupied several years in
writing " The History of the Commonwealth of
England." The four volumes of which this workjs
a2
Xli MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM GODWIN.
composed were published in the years 1824-, 1826,
1827, and 1828. It is accurate, which in an historical
work is a quality that deserves primary consideration.
It is besides eloquent, philosophical, and, above all,
abounds in new and valuable research. As a real
and true detail of events as they occurred, and a
tracing of events to their primary causes, it far excels
any other English historical work that we possess.
In 1830 Mr. Godwin published " Cloudesley," his
last novel, a book whose charm goes to the heart.
The spirit of virtue and love is its soul. It breathes
peace to all men, and a fervid attachment to all that
bears the human form. Nothing can excite greater
interest, emanating as it does from one who has spent
a long life in this centre of civilisation ; and who,
amidst all the trials, experiences, and attendant disap-
pointments which must have chequered his inter-
course with his species, still sees in man all that is
noble, inspiriting, and worthy to be loved.
This too is the spirit that animates the work to which
we have before alluded as of recent publication. Hu-
manity may cite his " Thoughts on Man," and so
answer the aspersions of Swift and others of his
school, proudly founding upon the sentiments of that
book the tower of their hope. The divine charity of
the Sermon on the Mount finds an human echo in its
pages; which breathe such admiration and love for man
as must elevate the desponding, confound the misan-
thrope, and add for ever dignity and grace to our species.
MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM GODWIN. xiii
Perhaps it may be averred, that, since the days of
the ancient Greek philosophers, no man has embodied
so entirely the idea we conceive of those heroes of
mind as the subject of this memoir. Like them, he has
forgotten the grandeur of the world in the more ele-
vating contemplation of the immaterial universe. The
universe of thought has been that in which he had
ambition to reign; and many and various are the con-
quests he has made in that eternal country. He has
bestowed on us a whole creation of imaginary exist-
ences, among whom when we name Falkland, we select
the being of fancy which is at once the most real and
the most grand that has appeared since Shakespeare
gave a «* local habitation" to the name of Hamlet. As
a speculative writer, he is the mighty parent of all that
the reformers of the day advance and uphold. As an
historian, he is deeply imbued with the dignity of his
subject, and unwearied in his endeavours to 'ascertain
the truth. As an essayist (his latest labour of author-
ship), he is unequalled for novelty of thought, closeness
of reasoning, and purity, vigour, and elegance of style.
As a morai character, his reputation is unblemished.
He stands, in simplicity of wisdom, and consistency of
principle, the monument of the last generation, extend-
ing into this the light of a long experience, and
ornamenting our young and changeful literature with
the profounder and loftier views of a more contem-
plative era,
A 3
XIV
CRITICISM
ON
THE NOVELS OF GODWIN.
FEW authors have the faculty of awakening and
arresting the attention like Mr. Godwin. He never
fails to excite in us the emotion he wishes, and that
without resorting to marvellous or overstrained in-
cidents or language. He has a might almost magical
over our sympathies. He describes a damp and com-
fortless morning ; and we are out under the cold drizzly
dawn. He talks of Switzerland— of the lake of Uri ;
and the mountains and the waters are before us. He
tells a tale of injustice and oppression; and every
feeling of indignant resistance 'stirs within us. He
holds up to our unmitigated hatred and contempt the
wanton and brutal tyrant; and unlocks the sacred
fountain of our tears for the helpless and the orphan,
for the unresisting, the neglected, and the misused.
Mr. Godwin does not deal much in imagination, and
is seldom purely descriptive ; though we repeat, that
when he is so, his power does not desert him, as may
be seen (to best advantage, we think,) in " Fleetwood."
The principal object of his study and contemplation is
CRITICISM ON THE NOVELS OF GODWIN. XV
man the enemy of man. Do we not remember to
have seen an edition of " Caleb Williams" with these
lines for a motto ?
" Amid the woods the tifer knows hi. kind;
The panther prey* oat on the panther brood :
Man only U the common (be of Man. -
Life seems to have been but the instrument to burn
this truth into the soul of our author. He reads Fox's
Book of Martyrs, and the History of the Inquisition ;
and imagines himself now torturer and now sufferer.
He gets up, goes abroad into "the throng miscalled
society," sees only its errors and its vices, its knaves
and its dupes ; and writes as if little or nothing else was
in existence. He has visions of misery, from deserted
childhood starving in strange streets, to the head that
has become white in the solitude of a dungeon. We
always thought a great deal of the brutality even of
Mr. Tyrrel gratuitous, in spite of the morbid irri-
tability of spirit under which he suffers ; though cer-
tainly the character is embodied with terrible power,
and might stand for a real personage. It is an attribute
indeed of Mr. Godwin, that he tells you his tale like
one who remembers, not invents. Thus his story be-
comes not the relation of a looker-on, however acute
and powerful, but is " compact" of words hot from the
burnt and branded heart of the miserable sufferer. It
is this quality which makes Gines, the thief and Dow-
street runner, a terrific being ; Williams himself, not
Mr. Godwin, talks to you about him, and, good God !
how awful is his omnipresence to the poor fellow!
Noiseless, swift, invisible, he seems to ride upon the
clouds, and blast his victim like the blight which falls
upon vegetation from the air.
XVI CRITICISM ON
We have said that Mr. Godwin seldom resorts to.
" marvellous or overstrained incidents or language :"
once however, he has imagined and placed a cha-
racter in " impossible situations." St. Leon becomes
the possessor of the philosopher's stone, the inheritor
of exhaustless wealth, and of the power of renewing
his age. He is, himself, of course, an impossibility ;
but the want of truth is confined purely to the cha-
racter, for every thing which befalls him is human,
natural, and possible. How minute, how pathetic, how
tragical is the detail of the gradual ruin which falls on
this weak, devoted man, up to its heart-breaking con-
summation, in the death of the noble Marguerite de
Damville f how tremendous and perfect is his deso-
lation, after voluntarily leaving his daughters, and
cutting the last thread which binds him to his kind !
"I saw my dear children set forward on their journey,
and I knew not that I should ever behold them more.
I was determined never to see them again to their in-
jury ; and I could not take to myself the consolation,
on such a day, in such a month, or even after such a
lapse of years, I shall again have the joy to embrace
them. In a little while they were out of sight, and I
was alone." How complete is the description of his
escape from the procession of the Auto da Fe ; of his
entrance into the Jew's house ; his fears ; his decaying
strength, just serving to make up the life-restoring
elixir ; the dying taper ; the insensibility ; the resur-
rection to new life, and the day-spring of his young
manhood ! How shall we speak of the old man, the
bequeather of the fatal legacy to St. Leon, and his
few fearful words: "Friendless, friendless — alone,
alone." Alas ! how terrible to imagine a being in pos-
THE NOVELS OF GODWIV. XV11
session of such endowments, who could bring himself
to think of death ! — able to turn back upon his path
and meet immortal youth, to see again the morning
of his day, and find, in renewed life and beauty, a
disguise impenetrable to his former enemies ; yet, in
the sadness of his experience, so dreading the mistakes
and persecution of his fellow-men, as to choose rather
to lie down with the worm, and seek oblivion in the
seats of rottenness and corruption.
One of the most remarkable ways in which the
faculty of Mr. Godwin is evinced, is the " magnitude
and wealth " of his detail. No single action or event that
could possibly, in such circumstances as he imagines,
heighten the effect, is omitted. In this he resembles
Hogarth ; but he is always tragical, — producing his
end altogether without ludicrous contrasts, or the in-
tervention of any thing bordering on the humorous.
Mere mental imbecility is not to be found in the
pictures of Mr. Godwin: his characters are people
who analyse their own minds, and who never act from
want of understanding, right or wrong. Indeed, they
are too conscious ; like that young rogue, Charles dc
St. Leon, for instance, who seems to do every thing
with a truly French eye to effect.
If we were asked to name the work of this writer
which had pleased us the most, we should say " Fleet-
wood." This will appear strange to the majority of
readers, no doubt; but, with many beauties, it has
fewer defects. In " Fleetwood" we have no drawbacks.
The story of Rttffigny is a sort of epitome of our
author : it contains all that he can do. And then the
Murm-i/x — ui mourn tor tlu-in ;i> tor <U ar trinuU.
Mary FUehvood is the best feminine delineation to be
XX PREFACE.
comprehend, as far as the progressive nature of a
single story would allow, a general review of the modes
of domestic and unrecorded despotism by which man
becomes the destroyer of man. If the author shall
have taught a valuable lesson, without subtracting
from the interest and passion by which a performance
of this sort ought to be characterised, he will have
reason to congratulate himself upon the vehicle he has
chosen.
May 12. 1794.
THIS preface was withdrawn in the original edition,
in compliance with the alarms of booksellers. " Caleb
Williams" made his first appearance in the world, in the
same month in which the sanguinary plot broke out
against the liberties of Englishmen, which was happily
terminated by the acquittal of its first intended victims,
in the close of that year. Terror vras the order of the
day ; and it was feared that even the humble novelist
might be shown to be constructively a traitor.
October 29. 1795.
ADVENTURES
OF
CALEB WILLIAMS.
VOLUME THE FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
MY life has for several years been a theatre of cala-
mity. I have been a mark for the vigilance of tyranny,
and I could not escape. My fairest prospects have been
blasted. My enemy has shown himself inaccessible to
entreaties, and un tired in persecution. My fame, as
well as my happiness, has become his victim. Every
one, as far as my story has been known, has refused
to assist me in my distress, and has execrated my name.
I have not deserved this treatment. My own con-
science witnesses in behalf of that innocence, my pre-
tensions to which are regarded in the world as incredible.
There is now, however, little hope that I shall escape
from the toils that universally beset me. I am incited
to the penning of these memoirs only by a desire to
divert my mind from the deplorableness of my situation,
and a faint idea that posterity may by their means be
induced to render me a justice which my contempo-
raries refuse. My story will, at least, appear to have
that consistency which is seldom attendant but upon
truth.
I was born of humble parents, in a remote county of
2 CALEB WILLIAMS.
England. Their occupations were such as usually fall
to the lot of peasants, and they had no portion to give
me, but an education free from the usual sources of
depravity, and the inheritance, long since lost by their
unfortunate progeny 1 of an honest fame. I was taught
the rudiments of no science, except reading, writing,
and arithmetic. But I had an inquisitive mind, and
neglected no means of information from conversation
or books. My improvement was greater than my con-
dition in life afforded room to expect.
There are other circumstances deserving to be men-
tioned as having influenced the history of my future
life. I was somewhat above the middle stature. With-
out being particularly athletic in appearance, or large
in my dimensions, I was uncommonly vigorous and
active. My joints were supple, and I was formed to
excel in youthful sports. The habits of my mind,
however, were to a certain degree at war with the
dictates of boyish vanity. I had considerable aversion
to the boisterous gaiety of the village gallants, and
contrived to satisfy my love of praise with an un-
frequent apparition at their amusements. My excellence
in these respects, however, gave a turn to my medi-
tations. I delighted to read of feats of activity, and
was particularly interested by tales in which corporeal
ingenuity or strength are the means resorted to for
supplying resources and conquering difficulties. I
inured myself to mechanical pursuits, and devoted
much of my time to an endeavour after mechanical
invention.
The spring of action which, perhaps more than any
other, characterised the whole train of my life, was
curiosity. It was this that gave me my mechanical
turn ; I was desirous of tracing the variety of effects
which might be produced from given causes. It was
CALEB WILLIAMS. 3
i\i\< that made rae a sort of natural philosopher; I
could not rest till I had acquainted myself with the
solutions that had been invented for the phenomena
of the- universe. In fine, this produced hi me an in-
vincible attachment to books of narrative and romance.
I panted for the unravelling of an adventure with an
anxiety, perhaps almost equal to that of the man
whose future happiness or misery depended on its issue.
I read, I devoured compositions of this sort. They
took possession of my soul ; and the effects they pro-
duced were frequently discernible in my external ap-
pearance and my health. My curiosity, however, was
not entirely ignoble : village anecdotes and scandal had
no charms for me : my imagination must be excited ;
and when that was not done, my curiosity was dormant
The residence of my parents was within the manor of
Ferdinando Falkland, a country squire of considerable
opulence. At an early age I attracted the favourable
notice of Mr. Collins, this gentleman's steward, who
used to call in occasionally at my father's. He observed
the particulars of my progress with approbation, and
made a favourable report to his master of my industry
and genius.
In the summer of the year , Mr. Falkland visited
his estate in our county after an absence of several
months. This was a period of misfortune to me. I
was then eighteen years of age. My father lay dead
in our cottage. I had lost my mother some years before.
In this forlorn situation I was surprised with a message
from the squire, ordering me to repair to the mansion-
house the morning after my father's funeral.
Though I was not a stranger to books, I had no
practical acquaintance with men. I had never had
occasion to address a person of this elevated rank, and
1 telt no small uneasiness and awe on the present
B 2
£ CALEB WILLIAMS.
occasion. I found Mr. Falkland a man of small stature,
with an extreme delicacy of form and appearance. In
place of the hard-favoured and inflexible visages I had
been accustomed to observe, every muscle and petty
line of his countenance seemed to be in an incon-
ceivable degree pregnant with meaning. His manner
was kind, attentive, and humane. His eye was full of
animation ; but there was a grave and sad solemnity
in his air, which, for want of experience, I imagined
was the inheritance of the great, and the instrument
by which the distance between them and their infe-
riors was maintained. His look bespoke the unquiet-
ness of his mind, and frequently wandered with an
expression of disconsolateness and anxiety.
My reception was as gracious and encouraging as I
could possibly desire. Mr. Falkland questioned me re-
specting my learning, and my conceptions of men and
things, and listened to my answers with condescension
and approbation. This kindness soon restored to me a
considerable part of my self-possession, though I still
felt restrained by the graceful, but unaltered dignity of
his carriage. When Mr. Falkland had satisfied his
curiosity, he proceeded to inform me that he was in
want of a secretary, that I appeared to him sufficiently
qualified for that office, and that, if, in my present change
of situation, occasioned by the death of my father, I
approved of the employment, he would take me into
his family.
I felt highly flattered by the proposal, and was
warm in the expression of my acknowledgments. I set
eagerly about the disposal of the little property my
father had left, in which I was assisted by Mr. Collins.
I had not now a relation in the world, upon whose
kindness and interposition I had any direct claim. But,
far from regarding this deserted situation with terror, J
CALEB WILLIAMS. 5
formed golden visions of the station I was about to
occupy. I little suspected that the gaiety and light-
ness of heart I had hitherto enjoyed were upon the
point of leaving me for ever, and that the rest of my
days were devoted to misery and alarm.
My employment was easy and agreeable. It con*
sisted partly in the transcribing and arranging certain
papers, and partly in writing from my master's dic-
tation letters of business, as well as sketches of literary
composition. Many of these latter consisted of an
analytical survey of the plans of different authors and
conjectural speculations upon hints they afforded, tend-
ing either to the detection of their errors, or the
carrying forward their discoveries. All of them bore
powerful marks of a profound and elegant mind, well
stored with literature, and possessed of an uncommon
share of activity and discrimination.
My station was in that pan of the house which was
appropriated for the reception of books, it being my
duty to perform the functions of librarian as well as
secretary. Here my hours would have glided in tran-
quillity and peace, had not my situation included in it
circumstances totally different from those which at-
tended me in my father's cottage. In early life my
mind had been much engrossed by reading and re-
flection: my intercourse with my fellow mortals was
occasional and short. But, in my new residence, I was
excited by every motive of interest and novelty to
study my master's character ; and I found in it an
ample field for speculation and conjecture.
His mode of living was in the utmost degree re-
cluse and solitary. He had no inclination to scenes
of revelry and mirth. He avoided the busy haunts of
men ; nor did he seem desirous to compensate for this
privation by the confidence of friendship. He ap-
B 3
(J CALEB WILLIAMS.
peared a total stranger to every thing which usually
bears the appellation of pleasure. His features were
scarcely ever relaxed into a smile, nor did that air
which spoke the unhappiness of his mind at any time
forsake them : yet his manners were by no means
such as denoted moroseness and misanthropy. He was
compassionate and considerate for others, though the
stateliness of his carriage and the reserve of his
temper were at no time interrupted. His appearance
and general behaviour might have strongly interested
all persons in his favour ; but the coldness of his
address, and the impenetrableness of his sentiments,
seemed to forbid those demonstrations of kindness to
which one might otherwise have been prompted.
Such was the general appearance of Mr. Falkland :
but his disposition was extremely unequal. The dis-
temper which afflicted him with incessant gloom had
its paroxysms. Sometimes he was hasty, peevish, and
tyrannical; but this proceeded rather from the torment
of his mind than an unfeeling disposition ; and when
reflection recurred, he appeared willing that the weight
of his misfortune should fall wholly upon himself.
Sometimes he entirely lost his self-possession, and his
behaviour was changed into frenzy : he would strike
his forehead, his brows became knit, his features dis-
torted, and his teeth ground one against the other.
When he felt the approach of these symptoms, he
would suddenly rise, and, leaving the occupation,
whatever it was, in which he was engaged, hasten
into a solitude upon which no person dared to intrude.
It must not be supposed that the whole of what I
am describing was visible to the persons about him ;
nor, indeed, was I acquainted with it in the extent
here stated but after a considerable time, and in gra-
dual succession. With respect to the domestics in
CALEB WILLIAMS. 7
.m-iu-ral, they saw but little of their master. None of
thrm, except myself, from the nature of my functions,
and Mr. Collins, from the antiquity of his service and
the respectableness of his character, approached Mr.
Falkland, but at stated seasons and for a very short
interval. They knew him only by the benevolence of
his actions, and the principles of inflexible integrity
by which he was ordinarily guided ; and though they
would sometimes indulge their conjectures respecting
his singularities, they regarded him upon the whole
with veneration, as a being of a superior order.
One day, when I had been about three months in
the service of my patron, I went to a closet, or small
apartment, which was separated from the library by
a narrow gallery that was lighted by a small window
near the roof. I had conceived that there was no person
in the room, and intended only to put any thing in
order that I might find out of its place. As I opened
the door, I heard at the same instant a deep groan,
expressive of intolerable anguish. The sound of the
door in opening seemed to alarm the person within ;
I heard the lid of a trunk hastily shut, and the noise
as of fastening a lock. I conceived that Mr. Falkland
was there, and was going instantly to retire ; but at
that moment a voice, that seemed supernaturally tre-
mendous, exclaimed, Who is there? The voice was
Mr. Falkland's. The sound of it thrilled my very
vitals. I endeavoured to answer, but my speech
failed, and being incapable of any other reply, I in-
stinctively advanced within the door into the room.
Mr. Falkland was just risen from the floor upon which
he had been sitting or kneeling. His face betrayed
strong symptoms of confusion. With a violent effort,
however, these symptoms vanished, and instantane-
ously gave place to a countenance sparkling with rage.
CALEB WILLIAMS.
« Villain ! " cried he, " what has brought you here ?" I
hesitated a confused and irresolute answer. "Wretch!"
interrupted Mr. Falkland, with uncontrollable impa-
tience, " you want to ruin me. You set yourself as a
spy upon my actions ; but bitterly shall you repent
your insolence. Do you think you shall watch my
privacies with impunity?" I attempted to defend
myself. " Begone, devil I " rejoined he. " Quit the
room, or I will trample you into atoms." Saying this,
he advanced towards me. But I was already suffi~
ciently terrified, and vanished in a moment. I heard the
door shut after me with violence ; and thus ended this
extraordinary scene.
I saw him again in the evening, and he was then
tolerably composed. His behaviour, which was always
kind, was now doubly attentive and soothing. He
seemed to have something of which he wished to dis-
burthen his mind, but to want words in which to
convey it. I looked at him with anxiety and affection.
He made two unsuccessful efforts, shook his head, and
then putting five guineas into my hand, pressed it in
a manner that I could feel proceeded from a mind
pregnant with various emotions, though I could not
interpret them. Having done this, he seemed imme-
diately to recollect himself, and to take refuge in the
usual distance and solemnity of his manner.
I easily understood that secrecy was one of the
things expected from me ; and, indeed, my mind was
too much disposed to meditate upon what I had heard
and seen, to make it a topic of indiscriminate com-
munication. Mr. Collins, however, and myself hap-
pened to sup together that evening, which was but
seldom the case, his avocations obliging him to be
much abroad. He could not help observing an un-
common dejection and anxiety in my countenance,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 9
and affectionately enquired into the reason. I endea-
voured to evade his questions, but my youth and
ignorance of the world gave me little advantage for
that purpose. Beside this, I had been accustomed
to view Mr. Collins with considerable attachment, and
I conceived from the nature of his situation that
there could be small impropriety in making him my
confident in the present instance. I repeated to htm
minutely every thing that had passed, and concluded
with a solemn declaration that, though treated with
caprice, I was not anxious for myself; no inconve-
nience or danger should ever lead me to a pusillani-
mous behaviour ; and I felt only for my patron, who,
with every advantage for happiness, and being in
the highest degree worthy of it, seemed destined to
undergo unmerited distress.
In answer to my communication, Mr. Collins in-
formed me that some incidents, of a nature similar to
that which I related, had fallen under his own know-
ledge, and that from the whole he could not help
concluding that our unfortunate patron, was at times
disordered in his intellects. " Alas !" continued he, " it
was not always thus ! Fcrdinando Falkland was once
the gayest of the gay. Not indeed of that frothy
sort, who excite contempt instead of admiration, and
whose levity argues thoughtlessness rather than feli-
city. His gaiety was always accompanied with dig-
nity. It was the gaiety of the hero and the scholar.
It was chastened with reflection and sensibility, and
never lost sight either of good taste or humanity.
Such as it was however, it denoted a genuine hilarity
of heart, imparted an inconceivable brilliancy to his
company and conversation, and rendered him the per-
petual delight of the diversified circles he then wil-
lingly frequented. You see nothing of him, my dear
10 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Williams, but the ruin of that Falkland who was courted
by sages, and adored by the fair. His youth, distin-
guished in its outset by the most unusual promise, is
tarnished. His sensibility is shrunk up and withered
by events the most disgustful to his feelings. His
mind was fraught with all the rhapsodies of visionary
honour ; and, in his sense, nothing but the grosser
part, the mere shell of Falkland, was capable of sur-
viving the wound that his pride has sustained.
These reflections of my friend Collins strongly
tended to inflame my curiosity, and I requested him
to enter into a more copious explanation. With this
request he readily complied ; as conceiving that what-
ever delicacy it became him to exercise in ordinary
cases, it would be out of place in my situation ; and
thinking it not improbable that Mr. Falkland, but for
the disturbance and inflammation of his mind, would
be disposed to a similar communication. I shall inter-
weave with Mr. Collins's story various information
which I afterwards received from other quarters, that
I may give all possible perspicuity to the series of
events. To avoid confusion in my narrative, I shall
drop the person of Collins, and assume to be myself
the historian of our patron. To the reader it may
appear at first sight as if this detail of the preceding
life of Mr. Falkland were foreign to my history. Alas I
I know from bitter experience that it is otherwise.
My heart bleeds at the recollection of his misfortunes,
as if they were my own. How can it fail to do so ?
To his story the whole fortune of my life was linked ;
because he was miserable, my happiness, my name,
and my existence have been irretrievably blasted.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 11
CHAPTER H.
AMONG the favourite authors of his early years were
the heroic poets of Italy. From them he imbibed the
love of chivalry and romance. He had too much good
sense to regret the times of Charlemagne and Arthur.
But, while his imagination was purged by a certain
infusion of philosophy, he conceived that there was in
the manners depicted by these celebrated poets some-
thing to imitate, as well as something to avoid. He be-
lieved that nothing was so well calculated to make men
delicate, gallant, and humane, as a temper perpetually
alive to the sentiments of birth and honour. The
opinions he entertained upon these topics were illus-
trated in his conduct, which was assiduously con-
formed to the model of heroism that his fancy suggested.
With these sentiments he set out upon his travels, at
the age at which the grand tour is usually made; and
they were rather confirmed than shaken by the ad-
ventures that befel him. By inclination he was led to
make his longest stay in Italy ; and here he fell into
company with several young noblemen whose studies
and principles were congenial to his own. By them
he was assiduously courted, and treated with the most
distinguished applause. They were delighted to meet
with a foreigner, who had imbibed all the peculiarities
of the most liberal and honourable among themselves.
Nor was he less favoured and admired by the softer
sex. Though his stature was small, his person had an air
of uncommon dignity. His dignity was then heightened
by certain additions which were afterwards obliterated,
— an expression of frankness, ingenuity, and unreserve,
and a spirit of the most ardent enthusiasm. Perhaps
12 CALEB WILLIAMS.
no Englishman was ever in an equal degree idolised by
the inhabitants of Italy.
It was not possible for him to have drunk so deeply
of the fountain of chivalry without being engaged
occasionally in affairs of honour, all of which were
terminated in a manner that would not have disgraced
the chevalier Bayard himself. In Italy, the young men
of rank divide themselves into two classes, — those who
adhere to the pure principles of ancient gallantry, and
those who, being actuated by the same acute sense
of injury and insult, accustom themselves to the em-
ployment of hired bravoes as their instruments of
vengeance. The whole difference, indeed, consists in
the precarious application of a generally received dis-
tinction. The most generous Italian conceives that
there are certain persons whom it would be contami-
nation for him to call into the open field. He never-
theless believes that an indignity cannot be expiated
but with blood, and is persuaded that the life of a man
is a trifling consideration, in comparison of the in-
demnification to be made to his injured honour. There
is, therefore, scarcely any Italian that would upon
some occasions scruple assassination. Men of spirit
among them, notwithstanding the prejudices of their
education, cannot fail to have a secret conviction of its
baseness, and will be desirous of extending as far as
possible the cartel of honour. Real or affected arro-
gance teaches others to regard almost the whole species
as their inferiors, and of consequence incites them to
gratify their vengeance without danger to their persons.
Mr. Falkland met with some of these. But his un-
daunted spirit and resolute temper gave him a decisive
advantage even in such perilous rencounters. One
instance, among many, of his manner of conducting
himself among this proud and high-spirited people it
CALEB WILLIAMS. 13
may be proper to relate. Mr. Falkland is the principal
agent in my history ; and Mr. Falkland in the autumn
and decay of his vigour, such as I found him, cannot
be completely understood without a knowledge of his
previous character, as it was in all the gloss of youth,
yet unassailed by adversity, and unbroken in upon by
anguish or remorse.
At Rome he was received with particular distinction
at the house of marquis Pisani, who had an only
daughter, the heir of his immense fortune, and the
admiration of all the young nobility of that metropolis.
Lady Lucretia Pisani was tall, of a dignified form,
and uncommonly beautiful. She was not deficient in
amiable qualities, but her soul was haughty, and her
carriage not unfrequently contemptuous. Her pride
was nourished by the consciousness of her charms,
by her elevated rank, and the universal adoration she
was accustomed to receive.
Among her numerous lovers count Malvesi was the
individual most favoured by her father, nor did his
addresses seem indifferent to her. The count was a
man of considerable accomplishments, and of great
integrity and benevolence of disposition. But he was
too ardent a lover, to be able always to preserve the
affability of his temper. The admirers whose addresses
were a source of gratification to his mistress, were a
perpetual uneasiness to him. Placing his whole hap-
piness in the possession of this imperious beauty, the
most trifling circumstances were capable of alarming
him for the security of his pretensions. But most of
all he was jealous of the English cavalier. Marquis
Pisani, who had spent many years in France, was by
no means partial to the suspicious precautions of Italian
fathers, and indulged his daughter in considerable
freedoms. His house and his daughter, with in certain
CALEB WILLIAMS.
restraints, were open to the resort of male
visitants But, above all, Mr. Falkland, as a foreigner,
and a person little likely to form pretensions to i
hand of Lucretia, was received upon a footing of great
familiarity. The lady herself, conscious of innocence,
SSd no scruple about trifles, and acted with the
confidence and frankness of one who is superior to
"Mr Falkland, after a residence of several weeks at
Rome', proceeded to Naples. Meanwhile certain inci-
dents occurred that delayed the intended nuptials of the
heiress of Pisani. When he returned to Rome Count
Malvesi was absent. Lady Lucretia, who had been
considerably amused before with the conversation ot
Mr. Falkland, and who had an active and enquiring
mind, had conceived, in the interval between his first
and second residence at Rome, a desire to be ac-
quainted with the English language, inspired by the
lively and ardent encomiums of our best authors that
she had heard from their countryman. She had pro-
vided herself with the usual materials for that purpose,
and had made some progress during his absence. But
upon his return she was forward to make use of the
opportunity, which, if missed, might never occur
again with equal advantage, of reading select passages
of our poets with an Englishman of uncommon taste
and capacity.
This proposal necessarily led to a more frequent in-
tercourse. When Count Malvesi returned, he found
Mr. Falkland established almost as an inmate of the
Pisani palace. His mind could not fail to be struck
with the criticalness of the situation. He was perhaps
secretly conscious that the qualifications of the English-
man were superior to his own ; and he trembled for the
progress that each party might have made in the affec-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 15
tion of the other, even before they were aware of the
danger. He believed that the match was in every
respect such as to flatter the ambition of Mr. Falk-
land ; and he was stung even to madness by the idea of
being deprived of the object dearest to his heart by
this tramontane upstart.
He had, however, sufficient discretion first to demand
an explanation of Lady Lucretia. She, in the gak-t y
of her heart, trifled with his anxiety. His patience
was already exhausted, and he proceeded in his ex-
postulation, in language that she was by no means
prepared to endure with apathy. Lady Lucretia had
always been accustomed to deference and submission ;
and, having got over something like terror, that was
at first inspired by the imperious manner in which she
was now catechised, her next feeling was that of the
warmest resentment. She disdained to satisfy so
insolent a questioner, and even indulged herself in
certain oblique hints calculated to strengthen his sus-
picions. For some time she described his folly and
presumption in terms of the most ludicrous sarcasm,
and then, suddenly changing her style, bid him never
let her see him more except upon the footing of the
most distant acquaintance, as she was determined
never again to subject herself to so unworthy a treat-
ment. She was happy that he had at length disclosed
to her his true character, and would know how to
profit of her present experience to avoid a repetition
of the same danger. All this passed in the full career
of passion on both sides, and Lady Lucretia had no
time to reflect upon what might be the consequence of
thus exasperating her lover.
Count Malvesi left her in all the torments of frenzy.
He believed that this was a premeditated scene, to
find a pretence for breaking off an engagement that
IQ CALEB WILLIAMS.
was already all but concluded; or, rather, his mind
was racked with a thousand conjectures: he alter-
nately thought that the injustice might be hers or his
own ; and he quarrelled with Lady Lucretia, himself,
and the whole world. In this temper he hastened to
the hotel of the English cavalier. The season of ex-
postulation was now over, and he found himself irre-
sistibly impelled to justify his precipitation with the
lady, by taking for granted that the subject of his
suspicion was beyond the reach of doubt.
Mr. Falkland was at home. The first words of the
count were an abrupt accusation of duplicity in the
affair of Lady Lucretia, and a challenge. The English-
man had an unaffected esteem for Malvesi, who was in
reality a man of considerable merit, and who had been
one of Mr. Falkland's earliest Italian acquaintance,
they having originally met at Milan. But more than
this, the possible consequence of a duel in the present
instance burst upon his mind. He had the warmest
admiration for Lady Lucretia, though his feelings were
not those of a lover ; and he knew that, however her
•haughtiness might endeavour to disguise it, she was
impressed with a tender regard for Count Malvesi.
He could not bear to think that any misconduct of
his should interrupt the prospects of so deserving
a pair. Guided by these sentiments, he endeavoured
to expostulate with the Italian. But his attempts were
ineffectual. His antagonist was drunk with choler,
and would not listen to a word that tended to check
the impetuosity of his thoughts. He traversed the
room with perturbed steps, and even foamed with
anguish and fury. Mr. Falkland, finding that all was to
no purpose, told the count that, if he would return to-
morrow at the same hour, he would attend him to any
scene of action he should think proper to select.
CALEB \\II.l.l.\MN. 17
From Count Malvesi Mr. Falkland immediately
proceeded to the palace of Pisani. Here he found
considerable difficulty in appeasing the indignation of
Lady Lucretia. His ideas of honour would by no means
allow him to win her to his purpose by disclosing the
cartel he had received ; otherwise that disclosure
would immediately have operated as the strongest
motive that could have been offered to this disdainful
beauty. But, though she dreaded such an event,
the vague apprehension was not strong enough to
induce her instantly to surrender all the stateliness of
her resentment. Mr. Falkland, however, drew so
interesting a picture of the disturbance of Count Mal-
vesi's mind, and accounted in so flattering a manner
for the abruptness of his conduct, that this, together
with the arguments he adduced, completed the con-
quest of Lady Lucretia's resentment. Having thus far
accomplished his purpose, he proceeded to disclose
to her every thing that had passed.
The next day Count Malvesi appeared, punctual to
his appointment, at Mr. Falkland's hotel. Mr. Falkland
came to the door to receive him, but requested him
to enter tin- house for a moment, as he had still an
affair of three minutes to despatch. They proceeded to
a parlour. Here Mr. Falkland left him, and presently
returned leading in Lady Lucretia herself, adorned in
all her charms, and those charms heightened upon
the present occasion by a consciousness of the spirited
and generous condescension she was exerting. Mr.
Falkland led her up to the astonished count ; and she,
gently laying her hand upon the arm of her lover, ex-
claimed with the most attractive grace, " Will you
allow me to retract the precipitate haughtiness into
which I was betrayed?" The enraptured count,
scarcely able to believe his senses, threw himself
J8 CALEB WILLIAMS.
upon his knees before her, and stammered out his
reply, signifying that the precipitation had been all
his own, that he only had any forgiveness to demand,
and, though they might pardon, he could never
pardon himself for the sacrilege he had committed
against her and this god like Englishman. As soon as
the first tumults of his joy had subsided, Mr. Falk-
land addressed him thus : —
" Count Malvesi, I feel the utmost pleasure in
having thus by peaceful means disarmed your re-
sentment, and effected your happiness. But I must
confess, you put me to a severe trial. My temper
is not less impetuous and fiery than your own, and
it is not at all times that I should have been thus
able to subdue it. But I considered that in reality the
original blame was mine. Though your suspicion was
groundless, it was not absurd. We have been trifling
too much in the face of danger. I ought not, under
the present weakness of our nature and forms of
society, to have been so assiduous in my attendance
upon this enchanting woman. It would have been
little wonder, if, having so many opportunities, and
playing the preceptor with her as I have done, I had
been entangled before I was aware, and harboured a
wish which I might not afterwards have had courage to
subdue. I owed you an atonement for this impru-
dence.
" But the laws of honour are in the utmost degree
rigid; and there was reason to fear that, however
anxious I were to be your friend, I might be obliged to
be your murderer. Fortunately, the reputation of my
courage is sufficiently established, not to expose it to
any impeachment by my declining your present defiance.
It was lucky, however, that in our interview of yes-
terday you found me alone, and that accident by
CALEB WILLIAMS. 19
that means threw the management of the affair into
my disposal. If the transaction should become known,
tin- conclusion will now become known along with
the provocation, and I am satisfied. But if the chal-
lenge had been public, the proofs I had formerly
given of courage would not have excused my present
moderation ; and, though desirous to have avoided
the combat, it would not have been in my power.
Let us hence each of us learn to avoid haste and
indiscretion, the consequences of which may be
inexpiable but with blood; and may Heaven bless
you in a consort of whom I deem you every way
worthy!"
I have already said that this was by no means the
only instance, in the course of his travels, in which
Mr. Falkland acquitted himself in the most brilliant
manner as a man of gallantry and virtue. He con-
tinued abroad during several years, every one of which
brought some fresh accession to the estimation in
which he was held, as well as to his own impatience
of stain or dishonour. At length he thought proper
to return to England, with tin- intention of spending
the rest of his days at the residence of his ancestors.
CHAPTER III.
FROM the moment he entered upon the execution of
this purpose, dictated as it probably was by an un-
affected principle of duty, his misfortunes took their
commencement. All I have further to state of his
history is the uninterrupted persecution of a malignant
destiny, a series of adventures that seemed to take their
rise in various accidents, but pointing to one termin-
c 2
20 CALEB WILLIAMS.
ation. Him they overwhelmed with an anguish he was
of all others least qualified to bear ; and these waters
of bitterness, extending beyond him, poured their
deadly venom upon others, I being myself the most
unfortunate of their victims.
The person in whom these calamities originated was
Mr. Falkland's nearest neighbour, a man of estate equal
to his own, by name Barnabas Tyrrel. This man one
might at first have supposed of all others least qualified
from instruction, or inclined by the habits of his life, to
disturb the enjoyments of a mind so richly endowed as
that of Mr. Falkland. Mr. Tyrrel might have passed
for a true model of the English squire. He was early
left under the tuition of his mother, a woman of narrow
capacity, and who had no other child. The only re-
maining member of the family it may be necessary to
notice was Miss Emily Melville, the orphan daughter
of Mr. Tyrrel's paternal aunt ; who now resided in the
family mansion, and was wholly dependent on the be-
nevolence of its proprietors.
Mrs. Tyrrel appeared to think that there was nothing
in the world so precious as her hopeful Barnabas.
Every thing must give way to his accommodation and
advantage ; every one must yield the most servile obe-
dience to his commands. He must not be teased or
restricted by any forms of instruction ; and of conse-
quence his proficiency, even in the arts of writing and
reading, was extremely slender. From his birth he
was muscular and sturdy; and, confined to the ruelle
of his mother, he made much such a figure as the
whelp-lion that a barbarian might have given for a lap-
dog to his mistress.
But he soon broke loose from these trammels, and
formed an acquaintance with the groom and the game-
keeper. Under their instruction he proved as ready
CALEB WILLIAMS. 21
a scholar, as he had been indocile and restive to the
pedant who held the office of his tutor. It was now
evident that his small proficiency in literature was by
no means to be ascribed to want of capacity. He dis-
covered no contemptible sagacity and quick-wittedness
in the science of horse-flesh, and was eminently exjn rt
in the arts of shooting, fishing, and hunting. Nor did
he confine himself to these, but added the theory
and practice of boxing, cudgel play, and quarter-staff.
These exercises added tenfold robustness and vigour
to his former qualifications.
His stature, when grown, was somewhat more than
five feet ten inches in height, and his form might have
been selected by a painter as a model for that hero of
antiquity, whose prowess consisted in felling an ox with
his fist, and devouring him at a meal. Conscious of
his advantage in this respect, he was insupportably
arrogant, tyrannical to his inferiors, and insolent to
his equals. The activity of his mind being diverted
from the genuine field of utility and distinction, showed
itself in the rude tricks of an overgrown lubber. Here,
as in all his other qualifications, he rose above his com-
petitors ; and if it had been possible to overlook the
callous and unrelenting disposition which they mani-
fested, one could scarcely have denied his applause to
the invention these freaks displayed, and the rough,
sarcastic wit with which they were accompanied.
Mr. Tyrrel was by no means inclined to permit these
extraordinary merits to rust in oblivion. There was a
weekly assembly at the nearest market-town, the resort
of all the rural gentry. Here he had hitherto figured
to the greatest advantage as grand master of the coterie,
no one having an equal share of opulence, and the ma-
jority, though still pretending to the rank of gentry,
greatly his inferior in this essential article. The young
c 3
22 CALEB WILLIAMS.
men in this circle looked up to this insolent bashaw
with timid respect, conscious of the comparative emi-
nence that unquestionably belonged to the powers of
his mind ; and he well knew how to maintain his rank
with an inflexible hand. Frequently indeed he relaxed
his features, and assumed a temporary appearance of
affableness and familiarity; but they found by ex-
perience, that if any one, encouraged by his conde-
scension, forgot the deference which Mr. Tyrrel
considered as his due, he was soon taught to repent
his presumption. It wa& a tiger that thought proper to
toy with a mouse, the little animal every moment in
danger of being crushed by the fangs of his ferocious
associate. As Mr. Tyrrel had considerable copiousness
of speech, and a rich, but undisciplined imagination,
he was always sure of an audience. His neighbours
crowded round, and joined in the ready laugh, partly
from obsequiousness, and partly from unfeigned ad-
miration. It frequently happened, however, that, in the
midst of his good humour, a characteristic refinement
of tyranny would suggest itself to his mind. When
his subjects, encouraged by his familiarity, had dis-
carded their precaution, the wayward fit would seize
him, a sudden cloud overspread his brow, his voice
transform from the pleasant to the terrible, and a
quarrel of a straw immediately ensue with the first
man whose face he did not like. The pleasure that
resulted to others from the exuberant sallies of his
imagination was, therefore, not unalloyed with sudden
qualms of apprehension and terror. It may be believed
that this despotism did not gain its final ascendancy
without being contested in the outset. But all op-
position was quelled with a high hand by this rural
Antaeus. By the ascendancy of his fortune, and his
character among his neighbours, he always reduced
CALEB WILLIAMS. 23
his adversary to the necessity of encountering him at
his own weapons, and did not dismiss him without
niakinur liim feel his presumption through every joint
in his frame. The tyranny of Mr. Tyrrel would not
have been so patiently endured, had not his colloquial
accomplishments perpetually come in aid of that au-
thority which his rank and prowess originally obtained.
The situation of our squire with the fair was still
more enviable than that which he maintained among
persons of his own sex. Every mother taught her
daughter to consider the hand of Mr. Tyrrel as the
highest object of her ambition. Every daughter re-
garded his athletic form and his acknowledged prowess
with a favourable eye. A form eminently athletic is,
perhaps, always well proportioned; and one of the quali-
fications that women are early taught to look for in the
male sex, is that of a protector. As no man was
adventurous enough to contest his superiority, so
scarcely any woman in this provincial circle would
have scrupled to prefer his addresses to those of any
other admirer. His boisterous wit had peculiar charms
for them ; and there was no spectacle more flattering
to their vanity, than seeing this Hercules exchange his
club for a distaff. It was pleasing to them to consider,
that the fangs of this wild beast, the very idea of which
inspired trepidation into the boldest hearts, might be
played with by them with the utmost security.
Such was the rival that Fortune, in her caprice, had
reserved for the accomplished Falkland. This un-
tamed, though not undiscerning brute, was found ca-
pable of destroying the prospects of a man the most
eminently qualified to enjoy and to communicate hap-
piness. The feud that sprung up between them was
nourished by concurring circumstances, till it attained
a magnitude difficult to be paralleled; and, because
c 4
24> CALEB WILLIAMS.
they regarded each other with a deadly hatred, I have
become an object of misery and abhorrence.
The arrival of Mr. Falkland gave an alarming shock
to the authority of Mr. Tyrrel in the village assembly,
and in all scenes of indiscriminate resort. His dispo-
sition by no means inclined him to withhold himself
from scenes of fashionable amusement ; and he and his
competitor were like two stars fated never to appear
at once above the horizon. The advantages Mr. Falk-
land possessed in the comparison are palpable ; and had
it been otherwise, the subjects of his rural neighbour
were sufficiently disposed to revolt against his merci-
less dominion. They had hitherto submitted from
fear, and not from love ; and, if they had not rebelled,
it was only for want of a leader. Even the ladies re-
garded Mr. Falkland with particular complacence. His
polished manners were peculiarly in harmony with fe-
minine delicacy. The sallies of his wit were far beyond
those of Mr. Tyrrel in variety and vigour ; in addition
to which they had the advantage of having their spon-
taneous exuberance guided and restrained by the sa-
gacity of a cultivated mind. The graces of his person
were enhanced by the elegance of his deportment ;
and the benevolence and liberality of his temper were
upon all occasions conspicuous. It was common in-
deed to Mr. Tyrrel, together with Mr. Falkland, to be
little accessible to sentiments of awkwardness and
confusion. But for this Mr. Tyrrel was indebted to
a self-satisfied effrontery, and a boisterous and over-
bearing elocution, by which he was accustomed to dis-
comfit his assailants ; while Mr. Falkland, with great
ingenuity and candour of mind, was enabled by his
extensive knowledge of the world, and acquaintance
with his own resources, to perceive almost instantane-
ously the proceeding it most became him to adopt.
CALEB WILLIAMS.
Mr. Tvrrel conti-mplati'd the progress of his rival
with uneasiness and aversion. He often commented
upon it to his particular confidents as a thing alto-
gether inconceivable. Mr. Falkland he described as
an animal that was beneath contempt. Diminutive
and dwarfish in his form, he wanted to set up a new
standard of human nature, adapted to his miserable
condition. He wished to persuade people that the
human species were made to be nailed to a chair, and
to pore over books. He would have them exchange
those robust exercises which make us joyous in the
performance, and vigorous in the consequences, for the
wise labour of scratching our heads for a rhyme and
counting our fingers for a verse. Monkeys were as
good men as these. A nation of such animals would
have no chance with a single regiment of the old
English votaries of beef and pudding. He never
saw any thing come of learning but to make people
foppish and impertinent; and a sensible man would
not wish a worse calamity to the enemies of his nation,
than to see them run mad after such pernicious ab-
surdities. It was impossible that people could seri-
ously feel any liking for such a ridiculous piece of
goods as this outlandish foreign-made Englishman.
But he knew very well how it was: it was a miserable
piece of mummery that was played only in spite of
him. But God for ever blast his soul, if he were not
bitterly revenged upon them all !
If such were the sentiments of Mr. Tyrrel, his pa-
tience found ample exercise in the language which was
held by the rest of his neighbours on the same subject.
While he saw nothing in Mr. Falkland but matter of
contempt, they appeared to be never weary of recount-
ing his praises. Such dignity, such affability, so per-
petual an attention to the happiness of others, such
26 CALEB WILLIAMS.
delicacy of sentiment and expression I Learned with-
out ostentation, refined without foppery, elegant without
effeminacy ! Perpetually anxious to prevent his superi-
ority from being painfully felt, it was so much the more
certainly felt to be real, and excited congratulation
instead of envy in the spectator. It is scarcely neces-
sary to remark, that the revolution of sentiment in this
rural vicinity belongs to one of the most obvious fea-
tures of the human mind. The rudest exhibition of
art is at first admired, till a nobler is presented, and we
are taught to wonder at the facility with which before
we had been satisfied. Mr. Tyrrel thought there would
be no end to the commendation ; and expected when
their common acquaintance would fall down and adore
the intruder. The most inadvertent expression of ap-
plause inflicted upon him the torment of demons. He
writhed with agony, his features became distorted, and
his looks inspired terror. Such suffering would pro-
bably have soured the kindest temper ; what must have
been its effect upon Mr. Tyrrel's, always fierce, unre-
lenting, and abrupt ?
The advantages of Mr. Falkland seemed by no means
to diminish with their novelty. Every new sufferer
from Mr. Tyrrel's tyranny immediately went over to
the standard of his adversary. The ladies, though
treated by their rustic swain with more gentleness than
the men, were occasionally exposed to his capricious-
ness and insolence. They could not help remarking
the contrast between these two leaders in the fields of
chivalry, the one of whom paid no attention to any one's
pleasure but his own, while the other seemed all good-
humour and benevolence. It was in vain that Mr.
Tyrrel endeavoured to restrain the ruggedness of his
character. His motive was impatience, his thoughts
were gloomy, and his courtship was like the pawings of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 27
an c-U -pliant. It appeared as if his temper had been
more human while he indulged in its free bent, than
now that he sullenly endeavoured to put fetters upon
its excesses.
Among the" ladies' of the village-assembly already
mentioned, there was none that seemed to engage more
of the kindness of Mr. Tyrrel than Miss Hardingham.
She was also one of the few that had not yet gone over
to the enemy, either because she really preferred the
gentleman who was her oldest acquaintance, or that she
conceived from calculation this conduct best adapted
to insure her success in a husband. One day, however,
she thought proper, probably only by way of experi-
ment, to show Mr. Tyrrel that she could engage in
hostilities, if he should at any time give her sufficient
provocation. She so adjusted her manoeuvres as to be
engaged by Mr. Falkland as his partner for the dance
of the evening, though without the smallest intention
on the part of that gentleman (who was unpardonably
deficient in the sciences of anecdote and match-making)
of giving offence to his country neighbour. Though
the manners of Mr. Falkland were condescending and
attentive, his hours of retirement were principally occu-
pied in contemplations too dignified for scandal, and
too large for the altercations of a vestry, or the politics
of an election-borough.
A short time before the dances began, Mr. Tyrrel
went up to his fair inamorata, and entered into some
trifling conversation with her to fill up the time, as
intending in a few minutes to lead her forward to the
field. He had accustomed himself to neglect the cere-
mony of soliciting beforehand a promise in Ins favour*
as not supposing it possible that any one would dare
dispute his behests ; and, had it been otherwise, he
would have thought the formality unnecessary in this
28 CALEB WILLIAMS.
case, his general preference to Miss Hardingham being
notorious.
While he was thus engaged, Mr. Falkland came up.
Mr. Tyrrel always regarded him with aversion and
loathing. Mr. Falkland, however, slided in a graceful
and unaffected manner into the conversation already
begun ; and the animated ingenuousness of his manner
was such, as might for the time have disarmed the devil
of his malice. Mr. Tyrrel probably conceived that his
accosting Miss Hardingham was an accidental piece of
general ceremony, and expected every moment when
he would withdraw to another part of the room.
The company now began to be in motion for the
dance, and Mr. Falkland signified as much to Miss
Hardingham. " Sir," interrupted Mr. Tyrrel abruptly,
" that lady is my partner." — "I believe nbt, sir : that
lady has been so obliging as to accept my invitation." —
" I tell you, sir, no. Sir, I have an interest in that
lady's affections ; and I will suffer no man to intrude
upon my claims." — "The lady's affections are not the
subject of the present question." — " Sir, it is to no
purpose to parley. Make room, sir !" — Mr. Falkland
gently repelled his antagonist. " Mr. Tyrrel !" returned
he, with some firmness, " let us have no altercation in
this business: the master of the ceremonies is the
proper person to decide in a difference of this sort, if we
cannot adjust it : we can neither of us intend to exhibit
our valour before the ladies, and shall therefore cheer-
fully submit to his verdict." — " Damn me, sir, if I
understand—" « Softly, Mr. Tyrrel ; I intended you no
offence. But, sir, no man shall prevent my asserting
that to which I have once acquired a claim !"
Mr. Falkland uttered these words with the most
unruffled temper in the world. The tone in -which
he spoke had acquired elevation, but neither roughness
CALEB WILLIAMS. 29
nor impatience. There was a fascination in his manner
that made the ferociousness of his antagonist subside
into impotence. Miss Hardingham had begun to repent
of her experiment, but her alarm was speedily quieted
by the dignified composure of her new partner. Mr.
Tynrel walked away without answering a word. He
muttered curses as he went, which the laws of honour
did not oblige Mr. Falkland to overhear, and which in-
deed it would have been no easy task to have overheard
with accuracy. Mr. Tyrrel would not, perhaps, have
so easily given up his point, had not his own good
sense presently taught him, that, however eager he
might be for revenge, this was not the ground he
should desire to occupy. But, though he could not
openly resent this rebellion against his authority, he
brooded over it in the recesses of a malignant mind ;
and it was evident enough that he was accumulating
materials for a bitter account, to which he trusted his
adversary should one day be brought.
CHAPTER IV.
THIS was only one out of innumerable instances, that
every day seemed to multiply, of petty mortifications
whieh Mr. Tyrrel was destined to endure on the part
of Mr. Falkland. In all of them Mr. Falkland con-
ducted himself with such unaffected propriety, as per-
petually to add to the stock of his reputation. The
more Mr. Tyrrel struggled with his misfortune, the
more conspicuous and inveterate it became. A thou-
sand times he cursed his stars, which took, as he ap-
prehended, a malicious pleasure in making Mr. Falkland,
at every turn, the instrument of his humiliation. Smart-
30 CALEB WILLIAMS.
ing under a succession of untoward events, he appeare^
to feel, in the most exquisite manner, the distinctions
paid to his adversary, even in those points in which he
had not the slightest pretensions. An instance of this
now occurred. .
Mr. Clare, a poet whose works have done immortal
honour to the country that produced him, had lately
retired, after a life spent in the sublimest efforts of
genius, to enjoy the produce of his economy, and the
reputation he had acquired, in this very neighbourhood.
Such an inmate was looked up to by the country gen-
tlemen with a degree of adoration. They felt a con-
scious pride in recollecting that the boast of England
was a native of their vicinity ; and they were by no
means deficient in gratitude when they saw him, who
had left them an adventurer, return into the midst of
them, in the close of his days, crowned with honours
and opulence. The reader is acquainted with his works :
he has, probably, dwelt upon them with transport ; and
I need not remind him of their excellence : but he is,
perhaps, a stranger to his personal qualifications ; he
does not know that his productions were scarcely more
admirable than his conversation. In company he
seemed to be the only person ignorant of the greatness
of his fame. To the world his writings will long re-
main a kind of specimen of what the human mind is
capable of performing; but no man perceived their
defects so acutely as he, or saw so distinctly how much
yet remained to be effected : he alone appeared to
look upon his works with superiority and indifference.
One of the features that most eminently distinguished
him was a perpetual suavity of manners, a compre-
hensiveness of mind, that regarded the errors of others
without a particle of resentment, and made it impos-
sible for any one to be his enemy. He pointed out to
CALEB WILLIAMS. 31
men their mistakes with frankness and unreserve : his
remonstrances produced astonishment and conviction,
but without uneasiness, in the party to whom they were
addressed : they felt the instrument that was employed
to correct their irregularities, but it never mangled
what it was intended to heal. Such were the moral qua-
lities that distinguished him among his acquaintance.
The intellectual accomplishments he exhibited were,
principally, a tranquil and mild enthusiasm, and a rich-
ness of conception which dictated spontaneously to his
tongue, and flowed with so much ease, that it was only
by retrospect you could be made aware of die amazing
variety of ideas that had been presented.
Mr. Clare certainly found few men in this remote
situation that were capable of participating in his ideas
and amusements. It has been among the weaknesses
of great men to fly to solitude, and converse with woods
and groves, rather than with a circle of strong and
comprehensive minds like their own. From the mo-
ment of Mr. Falkland's arrival in the neighbourhood,
Mr. Clare distinguished him in the most flattering
manner. To so penetrating a genius there was no
need of long experience and patient observation to dis-
cover the merits and defects of any character that pre-
sented itself. The materials of his judgment had long
since been accumulated ; and, at the close of so illus-
trious a life, he might almost be said to sec through
nature at a glance. What wonder that he took some
interest in a mind in a certain degree congenial with
his own ? But to Mr. Tyrrel's diseased imagination,
every distinction bestowed on his neighbour seemed
to be expressly intended as an insult to him. On
the other hand, Mr. Clare, though gentle and bene-
volent in his remonstrances to a degree that made the
taking offence impossible, was by no means parsimo-
32 CALEB WILLIAMS.
nious of praise, or slow to make use of the deference
that was paid him, for the purpose of procuring justice
to merit.
It happened at one of those public meetings at which
Mr. Falkland and Mr. Tyrrel were present, that the
conversation, in one of the most numerous sets into
which the company was broken, turned upon the
poetical talents of the former. A lady, who was pre-
sent, and was distinguished for the acuteness of her
understanding, said, she had been favoured with a
sight of a poem he had just written, entitled An Ode
to the Genius of Chivalry, which appeared to her of
exquisite merit. The curiosity of the company was
immediately excited, and the lady added, she had a
copy in her pocket, which was much at their service,
provided its being thus produced would not be dis-
agreeable to the author. The whole circle immedi-
ately entreated Mr. Falkland to comply with their
wishes, and Mr. Clare, who was one of the company,
enforced their petition. Nothing gave this gentleman so
much pleasure as to have an opportunity of witnessing
and doing justice to the exhibition of intellectual ex-
cellence. Mr. Falkland had no false modesty or affect-
ation, and therefore readily yielded his consent.
Mr. Tyrrel accidentally sat at the extremity of this
circle. It cannot be supposed that the turn the con-
versation had taken was by any means agreeable to
him. He appeared to wish to withdraw himself, but
there seemed to be some unknown power that, as it
were by enchantment, retained him in his place, and
made him consent to drink to the dregs the bitter
potion which envy had prepared for him.
The poem was read to the rest of the company by
Mr. Clare, whose elocution was scarcely inferior to his^
other accomplishments. Simplicity, discrimination, and
CALEB WII.1 .1 A MS. S3
energy constantly attended him in the act of reading,
and it is not easy to conceive a more refined delight
than tell to the lot of those who had the good fortune
to be his auditors. The beauties of Mr. Falkland's
poem were accordingly exhibited with every advantage.
The successive passions of the author were communi-
cated to the hearer. What was impetuous, and what
was solemn, were delivered with a responsive feeling,
and a flowing and unlaboured tone. The pictures
conjured up by the creative fancy of the poet were
placed full to view, at one time overwhelming the soul
with superstitious awe, and at another transporting it
with luxuriant beauty.
The character of the hearers upon this occasion has
already been described. They were, for the most part,
plain, unlettered, and of little refinement. Poetry in
general they read, when read at all, from the mere
force of imitation, and with few sensations of pleasure ;
but this poem had a peculiar vein of glowing inspira-
tion. This very poem would probably have been seen
by many of them with little effect ; but the accents of
Mr. Clare carried it home to the heart. He ended :
and, as the countenances of his auditors had before
sympathised with the passions of the composition,
so now they emulated each other in declaring their
approbation. Their sensations were of a sort to which
they were little accustomed. One spoke, and another
followed by a sort of uncontrollable impulse ; and the
rude and broken manner of their commendations
rendered them the more singular and remarkable.
But what was least to be endured was the behaviour
of Mr. Clare. He returned the manuscript to the
lady from whom he had received it, and then, ad-
dressing Mr. Falkland, said with emphasis and anima-
tion, •• Ha I this is as it should be. It is of the right
D
34, CALEB WILLIAMS,
stamp. I have seen too many hard essays strained
from the labour of a pedant, and pastoral ditties dis-
tressed in lack of a meaning. They are such as you,
sir, that we want. Do not forget, however, that the
Muse was not given to add refinements to idleness,
but for the highest and most invaluable purposes. Act
up to the magnitude of your destiny."
A moment after, Mr. Clare quitted his seat, and
with Mr. Falkland and two or three more withdrew.
As soon as they were gone, Mr. Tyrrel edged further
into the circle. He had sat silent so long that he
seemed ready to burst with gall and indignation.
" Mighty pretty verses!" said he, half talking to himself,
and not addressing any particular person : " why, ay,
the verses are well enough. Damnation ! I should
like to know what a ship-load of such stuff is good for."
" Why, surely," said the lady who had introduced
Mr. Falkland's Ode on the present occasion, "you
must allow that poetry is an agreeable and elegant
amusement."
"Elegant, quotha! — Why, look at this Falkland!
A puny bit of a thing ! In the devil's name, madam, do
you think he would write poetry if he could do any
thing better ?"
The conversation did not stop here. The lady ex-
postulated. Several other persons, fresh from the
sensation they had felt, contributed their share. Mr.
Tyrrel grew more violent in his invectives, and found
ease in uttering them. The persons who were able in
any degree to check his vehemence were withdrawn.
One speaker after another shrunk back into silence,
. too timid to oppose, or too indolent to contend with,
the fierceness of his passion. He found the appearance
of his old ascendancy ; but he felt its deceitfulness and
uncertainty, and was gloomily dissatisfied.
CALEB WILLIAMS* 35
In his return from this assembly he was accompanied
by a young man, whom similitude of manners had
rendered one of his principal confidents, and whose
road home was in part the same as his own. One
might have thought that Mr. Tyrrel had sufficiently
vented his spleen in the dialogue he bad just been
holding. But he was unable to dismiss from his
recollection the anguish he had endured. •• Damn
Falkland !" said he. " What a pitiful scoundrel is here
to make all this bustle about ! But women and fools
always will be fools ; there is no help for that ! Those
that set them on have most to answer for ; and most of
all, Mr. Clare. He is a man that ought to know some-
thing of the world, and past being duped by gewgaws
and tinsel. He seemed, too, to have some notion of
things : I should not have suspected him of hallooing
to a cry of mongrels without honesty or reason. But
the world is all alike. Those that seem better than
their neighbours, are only more artful. They mean
the same thing, though they take a different road.
He deceived me for a while, but it is all out now.
They are the maker* of the mischief. Fools might
blunder, but they would not persist, if people that
ought to set them right did not encourage them to
go wrong."
A few days after this adventure Mr. Tyrrel was
surprised to receive a visit from Mr. Falkland. Mr.
Falkland proceeded, without ceremony, to explain the
motive of his coming.
"Mr. Tyrrel," said he, " I am come to have an
amicable explanation with you."
" Explanation I What is my offence ?"
"None in the world, sir; and for that reason I
conceive this the fittest time to come to a right under-
standing."
D 2
36 CALEB WILLIAMS.
« You are in a devil of a hurry, sir. Are you clear
that this haste will not mar, instead of make an under-
standing ? "
« I think I am, sir. I have great faith in the purity
of my intentions, and I will not doubt, when you
perceive the view with which I come, that you will
willingly co-operate with it."
"Mayhap, Mr. Falkland, we may not agree about
that. One man thinks one way, and another man
thinks another. Mayhap I do not think I have any
great reason to be pleased with you already."
" It may be so. I cannot, however, charge myself
with having given you reason to be displeased."
" Well, sir, you have no right to put me out of
humour with myself. If you come to play upon me,
and try what sort of a fellow you shall have to deal
with, damn me if you shall have any reason to hug
yourself upon the experiment."
" Nothing, sir, is more easy for us than to quarrel.
If you desire that, there is no fear that you will find
opportunities."
" Damn me, sir, if I do not believe you are come to
bully me."
« Mr. Tyrrel I sir— have a care I "
" Of what, sir I — Do you threaten me ? Damn my
soul ! who are you ? what do you come here for ?"
The fieriness of Mr. Tyrrel brought Mr. Falkland to
his recollection.
" I am wrong," said he. « I confess it. I came for
purposes of peace. With that view I have taken the
liberty to visit you. Whatever therefore might be my
feelings upon another occasion, I am bound to suppress
them now."
"Ho! — Well, sir: and what have you further to
offer?"
CALEB WILLIAMS. 37
*Mr. Tym-1." proceeded Mr. Falkland, "you will
readily imagine that the caate that brought me was
not a slight one. I would not have troubled you with a
visit, but for important reasons. My coming is a pledge
how deeply I am myself impressed with what I have
to communicate.
" We are in a critical situation. We are upon the
brink of a whirlpool which, if once it get hold of us,
will render all further deliberation impotent. An
unfortunate jealousy seems to have insinuated itself
between us, which I would willingly remove; and I
come to ask your assistance. We are both of us nice
of temper ; we are both apt to kindle, and warm of re-
sentment. Precaution in this stage can be dishonour-
able to neither; the time may come when we shall
wish we had employed it, and find it too late. Why
should we be enemies ? Our tastes are different ; our
pursuits need not interfere. We both of us amply
possess the means of happiness ; we may be respected
by all, and spend a long life of tranquillity and enjoy-
ment. Will it be wise in us to exchange this prospect
for the fruits of strife ? A strife between persons with
our peculiarities and our weaknesses, includes conse-
quences that I shudder to think of. I fear, sir, that it
is pregnant with death at least to one of us, and with
misfortune and remorse to the survivor."
"Upon my soul, you are a strange man! Why
trouble me with your prophecies and forebodings ? "
" Because it is necessary to your happiness ! Be-
cause it becomes me to tell you of our danger now,
rather than wait till my character will allow this tran-
quillity no longer I
•• By quarrelling we shall but imitate the great mass
of mankind, who could easily quarrel in our place. Let
us do better. Let us show that we have the magna-
D3
38 CALEB WILLIAMS.
nimity to contemn petty misunderstandings. By thus
judging we shall do ourselves most substantial honour.
By a contrary conduct we shall merely present a co-
medy for the amusement of our acquaintance."
" Do you think so ? there may be something in that.
Damn me, if I consent to be the jest of any man
Hving."
« You are right, Mr. Tyrrel. Let us each act in the
manner best calculated to excite respect. We neither
of us wish to change roads; let us each sutfer the
other to pursue his own track unmolested. Be this our
compact ; and by mutual forbearance let us preserve
mutual peace."
Saying this, Mr. Falkland offered his hand to Mr.
Tyrrel in token of fellowship. But the gesture was
too significant. The wayward rustic, who seemed to
have been somewhat impressed by what had pre-
ceded, taken as he now was by surprise, shrunk back.
Mr. Falkland was again ready to take fire upon this
new slight, but he checked himself.
" All this is very unaccountable," cried Mr. Tyrrel.
" What the devil can have made you so forward, if you
had not some sly purpose to answer, by which I am to
be overreached?"
" My purpose," replied Mr. Falkland, " is a manly
and an honest purpose. Why should you refuse a pro-
position dictated by reason, and an equal regard to the
interest of each ? "
Mr. Tyrrel had had an opportunity for pause, and
fell back into his habitual character.
"Well, sir, in all this I must own there is some
frankness. Now I will return you like for like. It is
no matter how I canre by it, my temper is rough, and
will not be controlled. Mayhap you may think it is a
weakness, but I do not desire to see it altered. Till
(A I. KB WILLIAMS. 39
you came, I found myself very well : I liked my neigh-
bours, and my m i^hbours humoured me. But now the
case is entirely altered ; and, as long as I cannot stir
abroad without meeting with some mortification in
which you are directly or remotely concerned, I am
determined to hate you. Now, sir, if you will only go
out of the county or the kingdom, to the devil if you
please, so as I may never hear of you any more, I will
promise never to quarrel with you as long as I live.
Your rhymes and your rebusses, your quirks and your
conundrums, may then be every thing that is grand
for what I care."
« Mr. Tyrrel, be reasonable I Might not I as well
desire you to leave the county, as you desire me ? I
come to you, not as to a master, but an equal. In the
society of men we must have something to endure, as
well as to enjoy. No man must think that the world
was made for him. Let us take things as we find
them; and accommodate ourselves as we can to un-
avoidable circumstances**
" True, sir ; all this is fine talking. But I return to
my text : we are as God made us. I am neither a
philosopher nor a poet, to set out upon a wild-goose
chase of making myself a different man from what you
find me. As for consequences, what must be must be.
As we brew we must bake. And so, do you see ? I
shall not trouble myself about what is to be, but stand
up to it with a stout heart when it comes. Only this
I can tell you, that as long as I find you thrust into my
dish every day I shall hate you as bad as senna and
valerian. And damn me, if I do not think I hate you the
more for coming to-day in this pragmatical way, when
nobody sent for you, on purpose to show how much
wiser you are than all the world besides."
. u Mr. Tyrrel, I have done. I foresaw consequences,
o*
40 CALEB WILLIAMS.
and came as a friend. I had hoped that, by mutual
explanation, we should have come to a better under-
standing. I am disappointed; but, perhaps, when you
coolly reflect on what has passed, you will give me credit
for my intentions, and think that my proposal was not
an unreasonable one."
Having said this, Mr. Falkland departed. Through
the interview he, no doubt, conducted himself in a way
that did him peculiar credit. Yet the warmth of his
temper could not be entirely suppressed: and even
when he was most exemplary, there was an apparent
loftiness in his manner that was calculated to irritate ;
and the very grandeur with which he suppressed his
passions, operated indirectly as a taunt to his opponent.
The interview was prompted by the noblest sentiments;
but it unquestionably served to widen the breach it
was intended to heal.
For Mr. Tyrrel, he had recourse to his old expedient,
and unburthened the tumult of his thoughts to his con-
fidential friend. " This," cried he, " is a new artifice
of the fellow, to prove his imagined superiority. We
knew well enough that he had the gift of the gab. To
be sure, if the world were to be governed by words,
he would be in the right box. Oh, yes, he had it all
hollow ! But what signifies prating ? Business must
be done in another guess way than that. I wonder
what possessed me that I did not kick him ! But that
is all to come. This is only a new debt added to the
score, which he shall one day richly pay. This Falk-
land haunts me like a demon. I cannot wake but I
think of him. I cannot sleep but I see him. He
poisons all my pleasures. I should be glad to see him
torn with tenter-hooks, and to grind his heart-strings
with my teeth. I shall know no joy till I see him
ruined. There may be some things right about him ;
CALEB WILLIAMS. 41
but lie is my perpetual torment. The thought of him
huniis like a dead weight upon my heart, and I have a
ri-lit to shake it off. Does he think I will feel all that
I endure for nothing?"
In spite of the acerbity of Mr. Tyre-el's feelings, it
is probable, however, he did some justice to his rival.
He regarded him, indeed, with added dislike ; but he no
longer regarded him as a despicable foe. He avoided
his encounter ; he forbore to treat him with random
hostility ; he seemed to lie in wait for his victim, and
to collect his venom for a mortal assault.
CHAPTER V.
IT was not long after that a malignant distemper broke
out in the neighbourhood, which proved fatal to many
of the inhabitants, and was of unexampled rapidity in
its effects. One of the first persons that was seized
with it was Mr. Clare. It may be conceived, what
grief and alarm this incident spread through the vici-
nity. Mr. Clare was considered by them as something
more than mortal. The equanimity of his behaviour,
his unassuming carriage, his exuberant benevolence and
goodness of heart, joined with his talents, his inoffen-
sive wit, and the comprehensiveness of his intelligence,
made him the idol of all that knew him. In the scene
of his rural retreat, at least, he had no enemy. All
mourned the danger that now threatened him. He
appeared to have had the prospect of long life, and of
going down to his grave full of years and of honour.
Perhaps these appearances were deceitful. Perhaps
the intellectual efforts he had made, which were oc-
casionally more sudden, violent, and unintermitted, than
42 CALEB WILLIAMS.
a strict regard to health would have dictated, had laid
the seed of future disease. But a sanguine observer
would infallibly have predicted, that his temperate
habits, activity of mind, and unabated cheerfulness,
would be able even to keep death at bay for a time, and
baffle the attacks of distemper, provided their approach
were not uncommonly rapid and violent. The general
affliction, therefore, was doubly pungent upon the pre-
sent occasion.
But no one was so much affected as Mr. Falkland.
Perhaps no man so well understood the value of the life
that was now at stake. He immediately hastened to
the spot ; but he found some difficulty in gaining ad-
mission. Mr. Clare, aware of the infectious nature of
his disease, had given directions that as few persons as
possible should approach him. Mr. Falkland sent up his
name. He was told that he was included in the general
orders. He was not, however, of a temper to be easily
repulsed ; he persisted with obstinacy, and at length
carried his point, being only reminded in the first
instance to employ those precautions which experience
has proved most effectual for counteracting infection.
He found Mr. Clare in his bed-chamber, but not in
bed. He was sitting in his night-gown at a bureau
near the window. His appearance was composed and
cheerful, but death was in his countenance. " I had a
great inclination, Falkland," said he, " not to have suf-
fered you to come in ; and yet there is not a person in
the world it could give me more pleasure to see. But,
upon second thoughts, I believe there are few people
that could run into a danger of this kind with a better
prospect of escaping. In your case, at least, the garri-
son will not, I trust, be taken through the treachery
of the commander. I cannot tell how it is that I, who
can preach wisdom to you, have myself been caught.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 43
But do not be discouraged by my example. I had no
notice of my danger, or I would have acquitted myself
better."
Mr. Falkland having once established himself in the
apartment of his friend, would upon no terms consent
to retire. Mr. Clare considered that there was perhaps
less danger in this choice, than in the frequent change
from the extremes of a pure to a tainted air, and desisted
from expostulation. " Falkland," said he, " when you
came in, I had just finished making my will. I was not
pleased with what I had formerly drawn up upon that
subject, and I did not choose in my present situation to
call in an attorney. In fact, it would be strange if a
man of sense, with pure and direct intentions, should
not be able to perform such a function for himself."
Mr. Clare continued to act in the same easy and dis-
i-riLM-Tt (1 riKiiiru r :iv m |u rh rt lu.ilth. To jmlur from
the cheerfulness of his tone and the firmness of his
manner, the thought would never once have occurred
that he was dying. He walked, he reasoned, he jested,
in a way that argued the most perfect self-possession.
But his appearance changed perceptibly for the worse
every quarter of an hour. Mr. Falkland kept his eye
perpetually fixed upon him, with mingled sentiments of
anxiety and admiration.
" Falkland," said he, after having appeared for a short
period absorbed in thought, " I feel that I am dying.
This is a strange distemper of mine. Yesterday I
seemed in perfect health, and to-morrow I shall be an
insensible corpse. How curious is the line that sepa-
rates life and death to mortal men I To be at one mo-
ment active, gay, penetrating, with stores of knowledge
at one's command, capable of delighting, instructing,
and animating mankind, and the next, lifeless and loath-
some, an incumbrance upon the face of the earth I
44 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Such is the history of many men, and such will be
mine.
" I feel as if I had yet much to do in the world ; but
it will not be. I must be contented with what is past.
It is in vain that I muster all my spirits to my heart.
The enemy is too mighty and too merciless for me ; he
will not give me time so much as to breathe. These
things are not yet at least in our power : they are parts
of a great series that is perpetually flowing. The ge-
neral welfare, the great business of the universe, will
go on, though I bear no further share in promoting it.
That task is reserved for younger strengths, for you,
Falkland, and such as you. We should be contemptible
indeed if the prospect of human improvement did not
yield us a pure and perfect delight, independently of
the question of our existing to partake of it. Mankind
would have little to envy to future ages, if they had
all enjoyed a serenity as perfect as mine has been for
the latter half of my existence."
Mr. Clare sat up through the whole day, indulging
himself in easy and cheerful exertions, which were
perhaps better calculated to refresh and invigorate
the frame, than if he had sought repose in its direct
form. Now and then he was visited with a sudden
pang ; but it was no sooner felt, than he seemed to rise
above it, and smiled at the impotence of these attacks.
They might destroy him, but they could not disturb.
Three or four times he was bedewed with profuse
sweats ; and these again were succeeded by an ex-
treme dryness and burning heat of the skin. He was
next covered with small livid spots : symptoms of shi-
vering followed, but these he drove away with a de-
termined resolution. He then became tranquil and
composed, and, after some time, decided to go to bed,
it being already night. " Falkland," said he, pressing
CALEB WILLIAMS. 45
In* hand. - the task of dying is not so difficult as some
imagine. When one looks back from the brink of it,
one wonders that so total a subversion can take place
at so easy a prkv."
He had now been some time in bed, and, as every
thing was still, Mr. Falkland hoped that he slept; but
in that he was mistaken. Presently Mr. Clare threw
back the curtain, and looked in the countenance of his
trimd. " I cannot sleep," said he. " No, if I could
sleep, it would be the same thing as to recover ; and I
am destined to have the worst in this battle.
•• Falkland, I have been thinking about you. I do
not know any one whose future usefulness I con-
template with greater hope. Take care of yourself.
Do not let the world be defrauded of your virtues. I
am acquainted with your weakness as well as your
strength. You have an impetuosity, and an impatience
of imagined dishonour, that, if once set wrong, may
make you as eminently mischievous as you will other-
wise be useful. Think seriously of exterminating this
error!
•• But if I cannot, in the brief expostulation my
present situation will allow, produce this desirable
change in you, there is at least one tiling I can do. I
can put you upon your guard against a mischief I
foresee to be imminent. Beware of Mr. Tyrrel. Do
not commit the mistake of despising him as an unequal
opponent. Petty causes may produce great mischiefs.
Mr. Tyrrel is boisterous, rugged, and unfeeling ; and
you are too passionate, too acutely sensible of injury.
It would be truly to be lamented, if a man so inferior,
so utterly unworthy to be compared with you, should
be capable of changing your whole history into misery
and guilt. I have a painful presentiment upon my
heart, as if something dreadful would reach you from
46 CALEB WILLIAMS.
that quarter. Think of this. I exact no promise from
you. I would not shackle you with the fetters of
superstition; I would have you governed by justice
and reason."
Mr. Falkland was deeply affected with this expost-
ulation. His sense of the generous attention of Mr.
Clare, at such a moment, was so great as almost to de-
prive him of utterance. He spoke in short sentences,
and with visible effort. " I will behave better," replied
he. " Never fear me ! Your admonitions shall not be
thrown away upon me."
Mr. Clare adverted to another subject. " I have
made you my executor ; you will not refuse me this
last office of friendship. It is but a short time that I
have had the happiness of knowing you ; but in that
short time I have examined you well, and seen you
thoroughly. Do not disappoint the sanguine hope I
have entertained !
" I have left some legacies. My former connections,
while I lived amidst the busy haunts of men, as many
of them as were intimate, are all of them dear to me.
I have not had time to summon them about me upon
the present occasion, nor did I desire it. The remem-
brances of me will, I hope, answer a better purpose
than such as are usually thought of on similar occa-
sions."
Mr. Clare, having thus unburthened his mind, spoke
no more for several hours. Towards morning Mr.
Falkland quietly withdrew the curtain, and looked at
the dying man. His eyes were open, and were now
gently turned towards his young friend. His coun-
tenance was sunk, and of a death-like appearance. " I
hope you are better," said Falkland in a half whisper,
as if afraid of disturbing him. Mr. Clare drew his
hand from the bed-clothes, and stretched it forward;
CALEB WILLIAMS. 47
Mr. Falkland advanced, and took hold of it. " Much
better, said Mr. (lare, in a voice inward and hurdlv
articulate; "the struggle is now over; I have finished
my part ; farewell ! remember ! " These were his last
words. He lived still a few hours ; his lips were some-
tinies seen to move ; he expired without a groan.
Air. Falkland had witnessed the scene with much
anxiety. His hopes of a favourable crisis, and his fear
of disturbing the last moments of his friend, had held
him dumb. For the last half hour he had stood up,
with his eyes intently fixed upon Mr. Clare. He wit-
nessed the last gasp, the last little convulsive motion
of the frame. He continued to look; he sometimes
imagined that he saw life renewed. At length he could
deceive himself no longer, and exclaimed with a dis-
tracted accent, M And is this all?" He would have
thrown himself upon the body of his friend ; the at-
tendants withheld, and would have forced him into
another apartment. But he struggled from them, and
hung fondly over the bed. " Is this the end of genius,
virtue, and excellence? Is the luminary of the world
thus for ever gone ? Oh, yesterday I yesterday ! Clare,
why could not I have died in your stead ? Dreadful
moment ! Irreparable loss ! Lost in the very maturity
and vigour of his mind ! Cut off from a usefulness ten
thousand times greater than any he had already ex-
hibited ! Oh, his was a mind to have instructed sages,
and guided the moral world ! This is all we have left
of him ! The eloquence of those lips is gone ! The in-
cessant activity of that heart is still ! The best and
wisest of men is gone, and the world is insensible of its
loss!"
Mr. Tynrel heard the intelligence of Mr. Clare's
death with emotion, but of a different kind. He avowed
that he had not forgiven him his partial attachment to
48 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Mr. Falkland, and therefore could not recal his re-
membrance with kindness. But if he could have over-
looked his past injustice, sufficient care, it seems, was
taken to keep alive his resentment. " Falkland, forsooth,
attended him on his death-bed, as if nobody else were
worthy of his confidential communications." But what
was worst of all was this executorship. " In every thing
this pragmatical rascal throws me behind. Contemptible
wretch, that has nothing of the man about him ! Must
he perpetually trample upon his betters? Is every
body incapable of saying what kind of stuff a man is
made of? caught with mere outside? choosing the
flimsy before the substantial ? And upon his death-bed
too ? [Mr. Tyrrel with his uncultivated brutality mixed,
as usually happens, certain rude notions of religion.]
Sure the sense of his situation might have shamed him.
Poor wretch ! his soul has a great deal to answer for.
He has made my pillow uneasy ; and, whatever may
be the consequences, it is he we have to thank for
them."
The death of Mr. Clare removed the person who
could most effectually have moderated the animosities
of the contending parties, and took away the great ope-
rative check upon the excesses of Mr. Tyrrel. This
rustic tyrant had been held in involuntary restraint by
the intellectual ascendancy of his celebrated neighbour ;
and, notwithstanding the general ferocity of his temper,
he did not appear till lately to have entertained a hatred
against him. In the short time that had elapsed from
the period in which Mr. Clare had fixed his residence
in the neighbourhood, to that of the arrival of Mr.
Falkland from the Continent, the conduct of Mr. Tyrrel
had even shown tokens of improvement. He would
indeed have been better satisfied not to have had even
this intruder into a circle where he had been accus-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 49
tonu •(! to ri-iini. But with Mr. Clare he could have no
rivalship; the venerable character of Mr. Clare dis-
posed him to submission: this great man seemed to
have survived all the acrimony of contention, and all
the jealous subtleties of a mistaken honour.
The effects of Mr. Clare's suavity however, so far as
related to Mr. Tyrrel, had been in a certain degree
suspended by considerations of rivalship between this
gentleman and Mr. Falkland. And, now that the in-
fluence of Mr. Clare's presence and virtues was en-
tirely removed, Mr. Tyrrel's temper broke out into
more criminal excesses than ever. The added gloom
which Mr. Falkland's neighbourhood inspired, over-
flowed upon all his connections ; and the new examples
of his sullenness and tyranny which every day afforded,
reflected back upon this accumulated and portentous
feud.
CHAPTER VI.
THE consequences of all this speedily manifested
themselves. The very next incident in the story was
in some degree decisive of the catastrophe. Hitherto
I have spoken only of preliminary matters, seemingly
unconnected with each other, though leading to that
state of mind in both parties which had such fatal
effects. But all that remains is rapid and tremendous.
The death-dealing mischief advances with an accele-
rated motion, appearing to defy human wisdom and
strength to obstruct its operation.
The vices of Mr. Tyrrel, in their present state of
augmentation, were peculiarly exercised upon his
domestics and dependents. But the principal sufferer
50 CALEB WILLIAMS.
was the young lady mentioned on a former occasion,
the orphan daughter of his father's sister. Miss Mel-
ville's mother had married imprudently, or rather un-
fortunately, against the consent of her relations, all of
whom had agreed to withdraw their countenance from
her in consequence of that precipitate step. Her
husband had turned out to be no better than an ad-
venturer ; had spent her fortune, which in consequence
of the irreconcilableness of her family was less than
he expected, and had broken her heart. Her infant
daughter was left without any resource. In this situ-
ation the representations of the people with whom she
happened to be placed, prevailed upon Mrs. Tyrrel, the
mother of the squire, to receive her into her family.
In equity, perhaps, she was entitled to that portion of
fortune which her mother had forfeited by her impru-
dence, and which had gone to swell the property of the
male representative. But this idea had never entered
into the conceptions of either mother or son. Mrs.
Tyrrel conceived that she performed an act of the
most exalted benevolence in admitting Miss Emily
into a sort of equivocal situation, which was neither
precisely that of a domestic, nor yet marked with the
treatment that might seem due to one of the family.
She had not, however, at first been sensible of all the
mortifications that might have been expected from her
condition. Mrs. Tyrrel, though proud and imperious,
was not ill-natured. The female, who lived in the
family in the capacity of housekeeper, was a person
who had seen better days, and whose disposition was
extremely upright and amiable. She early contracted
a friendship for the little Emily, who was indeed for
the most part committed to her care. Emily, on her
side, fully repaid the affection of her instructress, and
learned with great docility the few accomplishments
CALEB WILLIANfS. 51
Mrs. Jakeman was able to communicate. But most of
all she imbibed her cheerful and artless temper, that
tcted the agreeable and encouraging from all events,
and prompted her to communicate her sentiments, which
were never of the cynical cast, without modification or
disguise. Besides the advantages Emily derived from
Mrs. Jakeman, she was permitted to take lessons from
the masters who were employed at Tyrrel Place for the
instruction of her cousin ; and indeed, as the young
gentleman was most frequently indisposed to attend
to them, they would commonly have had nothing to
do, had it not been for the fortunate presence of Miss
Melville. Mrs. Tyrrel therefore encouraged the studies
of Emily on that score ; in addition to which she ima-
gined that this living exhibition of instruction might
operate as an indirect allurement to her darling Bar-
nabas, the only species of motive she would suffer to
be presented. Force she absolutely forbade; and of
the intrinsic allurements of literature and knowledge
she had no conception.
Emily, as she grew up, displayed an uncommon
degree of sensibility, which under her circumstances
would have been a source of perpetual dissatisfaction,
had it not been qualified with an extreme sweetness
and easiness of temper. She was far from being en-
titled to the appellation of a beauty. Her person
WM petite and trivial ; her complexion savoured of the
}>ni,,,tt, ; and lu r f.uv \\a> ni.nkcil with tin- -n:;ill-|>«»\,
sufficiently to destroy its evenness and polish, though
not enough to destroy its expression. But, though
her appearance was not beautiful, it did not fail to be
in a high degree engaging. Her complexion was at
once healthful and delicate ; her long dark eyebrows
adapted themselves with facility to the various con-
ceptions of her mind ; and her looks bore the united
E 2
52 CALEB WILLIAMS.
impression of an active discernment and a good-
humoured frankness. The instruction she had received,
as it was entirely of a casual nature, exempted her
from the evils of untutored ignorance, but not from a
sort of native wildness, arguing a mind incapable of
guile itself, or of suspecting it in others. She amused,
without seeming conscious of the refined sense which
her observations contained; or rather, having never
been debauched with applause, she set light by her
own qualifications, arid talked from the pure gaiety of
a youthful heart acting upon the stores of a just
understanding, and not with any expectation of being
distinguished and admired.
The death of her aunt made very little change in
her situation. This prudent lady, who would have
thought it little less than sacrilege to have considered
Miss Melville as a branch of the stock of the Tyrrels,
took no more notice of her in her will than barely
putting her down for one hundred pounds in a cata-
logue of legacies to her servants. She had never
been admitted into the intimacy and confidence of
Mrs. Tyrrel ; and the young squire, now that she was
left under his sole protection, seemed inclined to treat
her with even more liberality than his mother had
done. He had seen her grow up under his eye, and
therefore, though there were but six years difference
in their ages, he felt a kind of paternal interest in her
welfare. Habit had rendered her in a manner neces-
sary to him, and, in every recess from the occupations
of the field and the pleasures of the table, he found
himself solitary and forlorn without the society of Miss
Melville. Nearness of kindred, and Emily's want of
personal beauty, prevented him from ever looking on
her with the eyes of desire. Her accomplishments
were chiefly of the customary and superficial kind,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 53
dancing and music. Her skill in the first led him
sometimes to indulge her with a vacant corner in his
carriage, when he went to the neighbouring assembly;
and, in whatever light he might himself think proper
to regard her, he would have imagined his chamber*
maid, introduced by him, entitled to an undoubted
place in the most splendid circle. Her musical talents
were frequently employed for his amusement. She had
the honour occasionally of playing him to sleep after
the fatigues of the chase ; and, as he had some relish
for harmonious sounds, she was frequently able to
soothe him by their means from the perturbations of
which his gloomy disposition was so eminently a slave.
Upon the whole, she might be considered as in some
sort his favourite. She was the mediator to whom his
tenants and domestics, when they had incurred his
displeasure, were accustomed to apply ; the privileged
companion, that could approach this lion'with impunity
in the midst of his roarings. She spoke to him without
fear ; her solicitations were always good-natured and
disinterested ; and when he repulsed her, he disarmed
himself of half his terrors, and was contented to smile
at her presumption.
Such had been for some years the situation of Miss
Melville. Its precariousness had been beguiled by the
uncommon forbearance with which she was treated by
her savage protector. But his disposition, always
brutal, had acquired a gradual accession of ferocity
since the settlement of Mr. Falkland in his neighbour-*
hood. He now frequently forgot the gentleness with
which he had been accustomed to treat his good-
natured cousin. Her little playful arts were not always
successful in softening his rage ; and he would some-
times turn upon her blandishments with an impatient
sternness that made her tremble. The careless ease
E 3
54 CALEB WILLIAMS.
of her disposition, however, soon effaced these im-
pressions, and she fell without variation into her old
habits.
A circumstance occurred about this time which
gave peculiar strength to the acrimony of Mr. Tyrrel,
and ultimately brought to its close the felicity that
Miss Melville, in spite of the frowns of fortune, had
hitherto enjoyed. Emily was exactly seventeen when
Mr. Falkland returned from the continent. At this age
she was peculiarly susceptible of the charms of beauty,
grace, and moral excellence, when united in a person
of the other sex. She was imprudent, precisely be-
cause her own heart was incapable of guile. She had
never yet felt the sting of the poverty to which she
was condemned, and had not reflected on the insu-
perable distance that custom has placed between the
opulent and the poorer classes of the community. She
beheld Mr. Falkland, whenever he was thrown in her
way at any of the public meetings, with admiration ;
and, without having precisely explained to herself
the sentiments she indulged, her eyes followed him
through all the changes of the scene, with eagerness
and impatience. She did not see him, as the rest of
the assembly did, born to one of the amplest estates
in the county, and qualified to assert his title to the
richest heiress. She thought only of Falkland, with
those advantages which were most intimately his own,
and of which no persecution of adverse fortune had
the ability to deprive him. In a word, she was trans-
ported when he was present; he was the perpetual
subject of her reveries and her dreams ; but his image
excited no sentiment in her mind beyond that of the
immediate pleasure she took in his idea.
The notice Mr. Falkland bestowed on her in return,
appeared sufficiently encouraging to a mind so full of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 55
prepossession as that of Emily. There was a particular
complacency in his looks when directed towards her.
He had said in a company, of which one of the persons
present repeated his remarks to Miss Melville, that she
appeared to him amiable and interesting ; that he felt
for her unprovided and destitute situation ; and that he
should have been glad to be more particular in his
attention to her, had he not been apprehensive of
doing her a prejudice in the suspicious mind of Mr.
Tyrrel. All this she considered as the ravishing con-
descension of a superior nature ; for, if she did not
recollect with sufficient assiduity his gifts of fortune,
she was, on the other hand, filled with reverence for
his unrivalled accomplishments. But, while she thus
seemingly disclaimed all comparison between Mr. Falk-
land and herself, she probably cherished a confused
feeling as if some event, that was yet in the womb
of fate, might reconcile things apparently the most
incompatible. Fraught with these prepossessions,
the civilities that had once or twice occurred in the
bustle of a public circle, the restoring her fan which
she had dropped, or the disembarrassing her of an
empty tea-cup, made her heart palpitate, and gave
birth to the wildest chimeras in her deluded imagi-
nation.
About this time an event happened, that helped
to give a precise determination to the fluctuations of
Miss Melville's mind. One evening, a short time after
the death of Mr. Clare, Mr. Falkland had been at the
house of his deceased friend in his quality of executor,
and, by some accidents of little intrinsic importance,
had been detained three or four hours later than he
expected. He did not set out upon his return till two
o'clock in the morning. At this time, in a situation so
remote from the metropolis, every thing is as silent as
£ 4
56 CALEB WILLIAMS.
it would be in a region wholly uninhabited. The moon
shone bright ; and the objects around being marked
with strong variations of light and shade, gave a kind
of sacred solemnity to the scene. Mr. Falkland had
taken Collins with him, the business to be settled at
Mr. Clare's being in some respects similar to that to
which this faithful domestic had been accustomed in
the routine of his ordinary service. They had entered
into some conversation, for Mr. Falkland was not then
in the habit of obliging the persons about him by
formality and reserve to recollect who he was. The
attractive solemnity of the scene made him break off
the talk somewhat abruptly, that he might enjoy it
without interruption. They had not ridden far, before
a hollow wind seemed to rise at a distance, and
they could hear the hoarse roarings of the sea. Pre-
sently the sky on one side assumed the appearance
of a reddish brown, and a sudden angle in the road
placed this phenomenon directly before them. As they
proceeded, it became more distinct, and it was at
length sufficiently visible that it was occasioned by a
fire. Mr. Falkland put spurs to his horse ; and, as
they approached, the object presented every instant a
more alarming appearance. The flames ascended with
fierceness ; they embraced a large portion of the hori-
zon ; and, as they carried up with them numerous
little fragments of the materials that fed them, im-
pregnated with fire, and of an extremely bright and
luminous colour, they presented some feeble image of
the tremendous eruption of a volcano.
The flames proceeded from a village directly in their
road. There were eight or ten houses already on fire,
and the whole seemed to be threatened with immediate
destruction. The inhabitants were in the utmost con-
sternation, having had no previous experience of a
CALEB WILLIAMS 57-
similar calamity. They conveyed with haste their
moreables and furniture into the adjoining fields.
\Vlu-n any of them had effected this as far as it could
be attempted with safety, they were unable to conceive
any further remedy, but stood wringing their hands,
and contemplating the ravages of the fire in an agony
of powerless despair. The water that could be pro-
cured, in any mode practised in that place, was but
as a drop contending with an clement in arms. The
wind in the mean time was rising, and the flames
spread with more and more rapidity.
Mr. Falkland contemplated this scene for a few
moments, as if ruminating with himself as to what
could be done. He then directed some of the country
people about him to pull down a house, next to one
that was wholly on fire, but which itself was yet un-
touched. They seemed astonished at a direction which
implied a voluntary destruction of property, and
considered the task as too much in the heart of the
danger to be undertaken. Observing that they were
motionless, he dismounted from his horse, and called
upon them in an authoritative voice to follow him.
He ascended the house in an instant, and presently
appeared upon the top of it, as if in the midst of the
flames. Having,. with the assistance of two or three
of the persons that followed him most closely, and who
by this time had supplied themselves with whatever
tools came next to hand, loosened the support of a
stack of chimneys, he pushed them headlong into the
midst of the fire. He passed and repassed along the
roof; and, having set people to work in all parts,
descended in order to see what could be done in any
other quarter.
At this moment an elderly woman burst from the
midst of a house in flames : the utmost consternation
58 CALEB WILLIAMS.
was painted in her looks ; and, as soon as she could
recollect herself enough to have a proper idea of her
situation, the subject of her anxiety seemed, in an
instant, to be totally changed. " Where is my child?"
cried she, and cast an anxious and piercing look among
the surrounding crowd. " Oh, she is lost ! she is
in the midst of flames ! Save her ! save her ! my
child I" She filled the air with heart-rending shrieks.
She turned towards the house. The people that were
near endeavoured to prevent her, but she shook them
off in a moment. She entered the passage ; viewed
the hideous ruin ; and was then going to plunge into
the blazing staircase. Mr. Falkland saw, pursued, and
seized her by the arm ; it was Mrs. Jakeman. " Stop ! "
he cried, with a voice of grand, yet benevolent au-
thority. " Remain you in the street ! I will seek, and
will save her ! " Mrs. Jakeman obeyed. He charged
the persons who were near to detain her ; he enquired
which was the apartment of Emily. Mrs. Jakeman
was upon a visit to a sister who lived in the village,
and had brought Emily along with her. Mr. Falkland
ascended a neighbouring house, and entered that in
which Emily was, by a window in the roof.
He found her already awaked from her sleep ; and,
becoming sensible of her danger, she had that instant
wrapped a loose gown round her. Such is the almost
irresistible result of feminine habits ; but, having done
this, she examined the surrounding objects with the
wildness of despair. Mr. Falkland entered the cham-
ber. She flew into his arms with the rapidity of light-
ning. She embraced and clung to him, with an impulse
that did not wait to consult the dictates of her under-
standing. Her emotions were indescribable. In a few
short moments she had lived an age in love. In two
minutes Mr. Falkland was again in the street with his
CALEB WILLIAMS. 59
lovely, half-naked burthen in his arms. Having restored
her to her affectionate protector, snatched from the
immediate grasp of death, from which, if he had not,
none would have delivered her, he returned to his
former task. By his presence of mind, by his inde-
fatigable humanity and incessant exertions, he saved
three fourths of the village from destruction.
The conflagration being at length abated, he sought
again Mrs. Jakeman and Emily, who by this time had
obtained a substitute for the garments she had lost in
the fire. He displayed the tenderest solicitude for the
young lady's safety, and directed Collins to go with as
much speed as he could, and send his chariot to attend
her. .More than an hour elapsed in this interval. Mis«
Melville had never seen so much of Mr. Falkland
upon any former occasion ; and the spectacle of such
humanity, delicacy, firmness, and justice in the form of
man, as he crowded into this small space, was altogether
new to her, and in the highest degree fascinating. She
had a confused feeling as if there had been something
indecorous in her behaviour or appearance, when Mr.
Falkland had appeared to her relief; and this combined
with her other emotions to render the whole critical
and intoxicating.
Emily no sooner arrived at the family mansion, than
Mr. Tyrrel ran out to receive her. He had just heard
of the melancholy accident that had taken place at
the village, and was terrified for the safety of his good-
humoured cousin. He displayed those unpremeditated
emotions which are common to almost every individual
of the human race. He was greatly shocked at the
suspicion that Emily might possibly have become the
victim of a catastrophe which had thus broken out in
the dead of night His sensations were of the most
pleasing sort when he folded her in his arms, and fear-
60 CALEB WILLIAMS.
ful apprehension was instantaneously converted into
joyous certainty. Emily no sooner entered under the
well known roof than her spirits were brisk, and her
tongue incessant in describing her danger and her de-
liverance. Mr. Tyrrel had formerly been tortured with
the innocent eulogiums she pronounced of Mr. Falkland.
But these were tameness itself, compared with the rich
and various eloquence that now flowed from her lips.
Love had not the same effect upon her, especially at
the present moment, which it would have had upon a
person instructed to feign a blush, and inured to a
consciousness of wrong. She described his activity
and resources, the promptitude with which every thing
was conceived, and the cautious but daring wisdom
with which it was executed. All was fairy-land and
enchantment in the tenour of her artless tale ; you saw
a beneficent genius surveying and controlling the whole,
but could have no notion of any human means by which
his purposes were effected.
Mr. Tyrrel listened for a while to these innocent
effusions with patience ; he could even bear to hear the
man applauded, by whom he had just obtained so con-
siderable a benefit. But the theme by amplification
became nauseous, and he at length with some rough-
ness put an end to the tale. Probably, upon recollection,
it appeared still more insolent and intolerable than
while it was passing ; the sensation of gratitude wore
off, but the hyperbolical praise that had been bestowed
still haunted his memory, and sounded in his ear ; —
Emily had entered into the confederacy that disturbed
his repose. For herself, she was wholly unconscious of
offence, and upon every occasion quoted Mr. Falkland
as the model of elegant manners and true wisdom. She
was a total stranger to dissimulation ; and she could
not conceive that any one beheld the subject of her
CALEB WILLIAMS. 61
admiration with less partiality than herself. Her art-
less love became more fervent than ever. She flattered
herself that nothing less than a reciprocal passion could
have prompted Mr. Falkland to the desperate attempt
of saving her from the flames ; and she trusted that this
passion would speedily declare itself, as well as induce
the object of her adoration to overlook her comparative
unworthiness.
Mr. Tyrrel endeavoured at firstwith some moderation
to check Miss Melville in her applauses, and to con-
vince her by various tokens that the subject was dis-
agre cable to him. He was accustomed to treat her
with kindness. Emily, on her part, was disposed to yield
an unreluctant obedience, and therefore it was not diffi-
cult to restrain her. But upon the very next occasion
her favourite topic would force its way to her lips. Her
obedience was the acquiescence of a frank and bene-
volent heart ; but it was the most difficult thing in the
world to inspire her with fear. Conscious herself that
she would not hurt a worm, she could not conceive that
any one would harbour cruelty and rancour against her.
Her temper had preserved her from obstinate conten-
tion with t IK- persons under whose protection she was
placed ; and, as her compliance was unhesitating, she
had no experience of a severe and rigorous treatment.
As Mr. TyrreFs objection to the very name of Falkland
became more palpable and uniform, Miss Melville
increased in her precaution. She would stop herself
in the half-pronounced sentences that were meant to
his praise. This circumstance had necessarily an
ungracious effect ; it was a cutting satire upon the im-
becility of her kinsman. Upon these occasions she
would sometimes venture upon a good-humoured ex-
postulation : — " Dear sir ! well, I wonder how you can
be so ill-natured ! I am sure Mr. Falkland would do
62 CALEB WILLIAMS.
you any good office in the world:" — till she was checked
by some gesture of impatience and fierceness.
At length she wholly conquered her heedlessness
and inattention. But it was too late. Mr. Tyrrel al-
ready suspected the existence of that passion which
she had thoughtlessly imbibed. His imagination, in-
genious in torment, suggested to him all the different
openings in conversation, in which she would have in-
troduced the praise of Mr. Falkland, had she not been
placed under this unnatural restraint. Her present
reserve upon the subject was even more insufferable
than her former loquacity. All his kindness for this
unhappy orphan gradually subsided. Her partiality
for the man who was the object of his unbounded ab-
horrence, appeared to him as the last persecution of a
malicious destiny. He figured himself as about to be
deserted by every creature in human form ; all men,
under the influence of a fatal enchantment, approving
only what was sophisticated and artificial, and holding
the rude and genuine offspring of nature in mortal
antipathy. Impressed with these gloomy presages,
he saw Miss Melville with no sentiments but those of
rancorous aversion ; and, accustomed as he was to the
uncontrolled indulgence of his propensities, he deter-
mined to wreak upon her a signal revenge.
CHAPTER VII.
MR. TYRREL consulted his old confident respecting
the plan he should pursue ; who, sympathising as he
did in the brutality and insolence of his friend, had no
idea that an insignificant girl, without either wealth or
beauty, ought to be allowed for a moment to stand in
CALEB WILLIAMS. ' 63
the way of the gratifications of a man of Mr. Tyrrel's
importance. The first idea of her now unrelenting
kinsman was to thrust her from his doors, and leave
her to seek her bread as she could. But he was
conscious that this proceeding would involve him in
considerable obloquy ; and he at length fixed upon a
scheme which, at the same time that he believed it
would sufficiently shelter his reputation, would much
more certainly secure her mortification and punishment.
For this purpose he fixed upon a young man of
twenty, the son of one Grimes, who occupied a small
farm, the property of his confident. This fellow he
resolved to impose as a husband on Miss Melville, who,
he shrewdly suspected, guided by the tender senti-
ments she had unfortunately conceived for Mr. Falk-
land, would listen with reluctance to any matrimonial
proposal. Grimes he selected as being in all respects
the diametrical reverse of Mr. Falkland. He was not
precisely a lad of vicious propensities, but in an incon-
ceivable degree boorish and uncouth. His complexion
was scarcely human ; his features were coarse, and
strangely discordant and disjointed from each other.
His lips were thick, and the tone of his voice broad
and unmodulated. His legs were of equal size from
one end to the other, and his feet misshapen and
clumsy. He had nothing spiteful or malicious in his
disposition, but he was a total stranger to tenderness ;
he could not feel for those refinements in others, of
which he had no experience in himself. He was an
expert boxer : his inclination led him to such amuse-
ments as were most boisterous ; and he delighted in a
sort of manual sarcasm, which he could not conceive
to be very injurious, as it led no traces behind it. His
general manners were noisy and obstreperous; inat-
tentive to others ; and obstinate and unyielding, not
g4 CALEB WILLIAMS.
from any cruelty and ruggedness of temper, but from
an incapacity to conceive those finer feelings, that
make so large a part of the history of persons who are
cast in a gentler mould.
Such was the uncouth and half-civilised animal,
which the industrious malice of Mr. Tyrrel fixed upon
as most happily adapted to his purpose. Emily had
hitherto been in an unusual degree exempted from
the oppression of despotism. Her happy insignifi-
cance had served her as a protection. No one thought
it worth his while to fetter her with those numerous
petty restrictions with which the daughters of opu-
lence are commonly tormented. She had the wildness,
as well as the delicate frame, of the bird that warbles
unmolested in its native groves.
When therefore she heard from her kinsman the
proposal of Mr. Grimes for a husband, she was for a
moment silent with astonishment at so unexpected a
suggestion. But as soon as she recovered her speech,
she replied, " No, sir, I do not want a husband."
" You do ! Are not you always hankering after the
men ? It is high time you should be settled."
" Mr. Grimes I No, indeed ! when I do have a
husband, it shall not be such a man as Mr. Grimes
neither."
" Be silent I How dare you give yourself such un-
accountable liberties ?"
" Lord, I wonder what I should do with him. You
might as well give me your great rough water-dog, and
bid me make him a silk cushion to lie in my dressing-
room. Besides, sir, Grimes is a common labouring
man, and I am sure I have always heard my aunt say
that ours is a very great family."
. " It is a lie ! Our family ! have you the impudence
to think yourself one of our family?"
CALEB WILLIAMS. 65
" Why, sir, was not your grandpapa my grandpapa ?
How then can we be of a different family?"
" From the strongest reason in the world. You are
the daughter of a rascally Scotchman, who spent every
shilling of my aunt Lucy's fortune, and left you a
beggar. You have got an hundred pounds, and
Grimes's father promises to give him as much. How
dare you look down upon your equals?"
" Indeed, sir, I am not proud. But, indeed and
indeed, I can never love Mr. Grimes. I am very
happy as I am : why should I be married?"
" Silence your prating! Grimes will be here this
afternoon. Look that you behave well to him. If you
do not, he will remember and repay, when you least
like it,"
" Nay, I am sure, sir— you are not in earnest?"
" Not in earnest ! Damn me, but we will see that.
I can tell what you would be at. You had rather be
Mr. Falkland's miss, than the wife of a plain downright
yeoman. But I shall take care of you. — Ay, this
comes of indulgence. You must be taken down, miss.
You must be taught the difference between high-flown
notions and realities. Mayhap you may take it a little
in dudgeon or so; but never mind that. Pride always
wants a little smarting. If you should be brought to
shame, it is I that shall bear the blame of it."
The tone in which Mr. Tyrrel spoke was so different
from any thing to which Miss Melville had been accus-
tomed, that she felt herself wholly unable to determine
what construction to put upon it. Sometimes she
thought he had really formed a plan for imposing upon
her a condition that she could not bear so much as to
think of. But presently she rejected this idea as ah
unworthy imputation upon her kinsman, and concluded
that it was only his way, and that all he meant was to
F
66 CALEB WILLIAMS.
try her. To be resolved however, she determined to
consult her constant adviser, Mrs. Jakeman, and ac-
cordingly repeated to her what had passed. Mrs.
Jakeman saw the whole in a very different light from
that in which Emily had conceived it, and trembled
for the future peace of her beloved ward.
" Lord bless me, my dear mamma !" cried Emily,
(this was the appellation she delighted to bestow upon
the good housekeeper,) " you cannot think so? But I
do not care. I will never marry Grimes, happen what
will."
" But how will you help yourself? My master will
oblige you."
" Nay, now you think you are talking to a child
indeed. It is I am to have the man, not Mr. Tyrrel.
Do you think I will let any body else choose a husband
for me ? 1 am not such a fool as that neither."
" Ah, Emily! you little know the disadvantages of
your situation. Your cousin is a violent man, and
perhaps will turn you out of doors, if you oppose
him."
" Oh, mamma ! it is very wicked of you to say so. I
am sure Mr. Tyrrel is a very good man, though he be
a little cross now and then. He knows very well that
I am right to have a will of my own in such a thing as
this, and nobody is punished for doing what is right."
" Nobody ought, my dear child. But there are very
wicked and tyrannical men in the world."
" Well, well, I will never believe my cousin is one of
these."
" I hope he is not."
" And if he were, what then ? To be sure I should
be very sorry to make him angry."
" What then ! Why then my poor Emily would be
a beggar. Do you think I could bear to see that?"
CALEB WILLIAMS, 67
? No, no. Mr. Tyrrel has just told me that I have a
hundred pounds. But if I had no fortune, is not that
the case with a thousand other folks ? Why should I
grieve, for what they bear and are merry? Do not
make yourself uneasy, mamma. I am determined that
I will do any thing rather than marry Grimes ; that is
what I will."
Mrs. Jakeman could not bear the uneasy state of
suspense in which this conversation led her mind, and
went immediately to the squire to have her doubts
resolved. The manner in which she proposed the
question, sufficiently indicated the judgment she had
formed of the match.
«« That is true," said Mr. Tyrrel, " I wanted to speak
to you about this affair. The girl has got unaccountable
notions in her head, that will be the ruin of her. You
perhaps can tell where she had them. But, be that as
it will, it is high time something should be done. The
shortest way is the best, and to keep things well while
they are well. In short, I am determined she shall
marry this lad : you do not know any harm of him, do
you ? You have a good deal of influence with her, and
I desire, do you see, that you will employ it to lead her
to her good : you had best, I can tell you. She is a
pert vixen ! By and by she would be a whore, and at
last no better than a common trull, and rot upon a
dunghill, if I were not at all these pains to save her
from destruction. I would make her an honest farmer's
wife, and my pretty miss cannot bear the thoughts of it !"
In the afternoon Grimes came according to appoint-
ment, and was left alone with the young lady.
"Well, miss, "said he, " it seems the squire has a mind
to make us man and wife. For my part, I cannot say
I should have thought of it. But, being as how the
squire has broke the ice, if so be as you like of the
F 2
68 CALEB WILLIAMS.
match, why I am your man. Speak the word ; a nod
is as good as a wink to a blind horse."
Emily was already sufficiently mortified at the unex-
pected proposal of Mr. Tyrrel. She was confounded
at the novelty of the situation, and still more at the
uncultivated rudeness of her lover, which even exceeded
her expectation. This confusion was interpreted by
Grimes into diffidence.
" Come, come, never be cast down. Put a good face
upon it. What though? My first sweetheart was Bet
Butterfield, but what of that ? What must be must
be ; grief will never fill the belly. She was a fine
strapping wench, that is the truth of it ! five foot ten
inches, and as stout as a trooper. Oh, she would do a
power of work! Up early and down late; milked ten
cows with her own hands; on with her cardinal, rode
to market between her panniers, fair weather and foul,
hail, blow, or snow. It would have done your heart
good to have seen her frost-bitten cheeks, as red as a
beefen from her own orchard ! Ah ! she was a maid of
mettle; would romp with the harvestmen, slap one upon
the back, wrestle with another, and had a rogue's trick
and a joke for all round. Poor girl! she broke her
neck down stairs at a christening. To be sure I shall
never meet with her fellow ! But never you mind
that; I do not doubt that I shall find more in you upon
further acquaintance. As coy and bashful as you seem,
I dare say you are rogue enough at bottom. When
I have touzled and rumpled you a little, we shall see.
I am no chicken, miss, whatever you may think. I
know what is what, and can see as far into a millstone
as another. Ay, ay; you will come to. The fish will
snap at the bait, never doubt it. Yes, yes, we shall rub
on main well together."
Emily by this time had in some degree mustered up
CALEB \ClLLIAMS. 69
her spirits, and began, though with hesitation, to thank
Mr. Grimes for his good opinion, but to confess that
she could never be brought to favour his addresses.
She therefore entreated him to desist from all further
application. This remonstrance on her part would have
become more intelligible, had it not been for hi*
boisterous manners and extravagant cheerfulness, which
indisposed him to silence, and made him suppose that
at half a word he had sufficient intimation of another's
meaning. Mr. Tyrrel, in the mean time, was too im-
patient not to interrupt the scene before they could
have time to proceed far in explanation ; and he was
studious in the sequel to prevent the young folks from
being too intimately acquainted with each other's
inclinations. Grimes, of consequence, attributed the
reluctance of Miss Melville to maiden coyness, and the
skittish shyness of an unbroken filly. Indeed, had it
been otherwise, it is not probable that it would have
made any effectual impression upon him; as he was
always accustomed to consider women as made for the
recreation of the men, and to exclaim against the weak-
ness of people who taught them to imagine they were
to judge for themselves.
As the suit proceeded, and Miss Melville saw more
of her new admirer, her antipathy increased. But,
though her character was unspoiled by those false
wants, which frequently make people of family miserable
while they have every thing that nature requires within
their reach, yet she had been little used to opposition,
and was terrified at the growing sternness of her kins-
man. Sometimes she thought of flying from a house
which was now become her dungeon ; but the habits of
her youth, and her ignorance of the world, made her
shrink from this project, when she contemplated it
more nearly. Mrs. Jakeman, indeed, could not think
F 3
70 CALEB WILLIAMS. _
with patience of young Grimes. as a husband for her
darling Emily; but her prudence determined her to
resist with all her might the idea on the part of the
young lady of proceeding to extremities. She could
not believe that Mr. Tyrrel would persist in such an
unaccountable persecution, and she exhorted Miss
Melville to forget for a moment the unaffected inde-
pendence of her character, and pathetically to deprecate
her cousin's obstinacy. She had great confidence in
the ingenuous eloquence of her ward. Mrs. Jakeman
did not know what was passing in the breast of the
tyrant.
Miss Melville complied with the suggestion of her
mamma. One morning immediately after breakfast,
she went to her harpsichord, and played one after
another several of those airs that were most the
favourites of Mr. Tyrrel. Mrs. Jakeman had retired ;
the servants were gone to their respective employments.
Mr. Tyrrel would have gone also; his mind was un-
tuned, and he did not take the pleasure he had been
accustomed to take in the musical performances of
Emily. But her finger was now more tasteful than
common. Her mind was probably wrought up to a
firmer and bolder tone, by the recollection of the cause
she was going to plead ; at the same time that it was
exempt from those incapacitating tremors which would
have been felt by one that dared not look poverty in the
face. Mr. Tyrrel was unable to leave the apartment.
Sometimes he traversed it with impatient steps ; then
he hung over the poor innocent whose powers were
exerted to please him ; at length he threw himself in a
chair opposite, with his eyes turned towards Emily.
It was easy to trace the progress of his emotions. The
furrows into which his countenance was contracted
were gradually relaxed ; his features were brightened
CALEB WILLIAMS. 71
into a smile ; the kindness with which he had upon
former occasions contemplated Emily seemed to revive
in his heart.
Emily watched her opportunity. As soon as she
hail finished one of the pieces, she rose and went to
Mr. Tyrrel.
" Now, have not I done it nicely ? and after this will
not you give me a reward ? "
" A reward ! Ay, come here, and I will give you a
" No, that is not it. And yet you have not kissed
me this many a day. Formerly you said you loved
me, and called me you- Emily. I am sure you did not
love me better than I loved you. You have not forgot
all the kindness you once had for me?" added she
anxiously.
" Forgot ? No, no. How can you ask such a ques-
tion ? You shall be my dear Emily still ! ' '
" Ah, those were happy times ! " she replied, a little
mournfully. Do you know, cousin, I wish I could
wake, and find that the last month — only about a
month — was a dream?"
" What do you mean by that?" said Mr. Tyrrel with
an altered voice. " Have a care ! Do not put me out
of humour. Do not come with your romantic notions
now."
" No, no : I have no romantic notions in my head.
I speak of something upon which the happiness of my
life depends."
" I see what you would be at. Be silent. You know
it is to no purpose to plague me with your stubborn-
ness. You will not let me be in good humour with
you for a moment. What my mind is determined
upon about Grimes, all the world shall not move me to
give up."
r 4
72 CALEB WILLIAMS.
" Dear, dear cousin ! why, but consider now. Grimes
is a rough rustic lout, like Orson in the story-book.
He wants a wife like himself. He would be as uneasy
and as much at a loss with me, as I with him. Why
should we both of us be forced to do what neither of
us is inclined to? I cannot think what could ever
have put it into your head. But now, for goodness'
sake, give it up! Marriage is a serious thing. You
should not think of joining two people for a whim, who
are neither of them fit for one another in any respect
in the world. We should feel mortified and disap-
pointed all our lives. Month would go after month,
and year after year, and I could never hope to be my
own, but by the death of ^a person I ought to love. I
am sure, sir, you cannot mean me all this harm. What
have I done, that I should deserve to have you for an
enemy?"
" I am not your enemy. I tell you that it is neces-
sary to put you out of harm's way. But, if I were
your enemy, I could not be a worse torment to you
than you are to me. Are not you continually singing
the praises of Falkland? Are not you in love with
Falkland ? That man is a legion of devils to me ! I
might as well have been a beggar! I might as well
have been a dwarf or a monster! Time was when
I was thought entitled to respect. But now, debauched
by this Frenchified rascal, they call me rude, surly, a
tyrant ! It is true that I cannot talk in finical phrases,
flatter people with hypocritical praise, or suppress the
real feelings of my mind. The scoundrel knows his pitiful
advantages, and insults me upon them without ceasing.
He is my rival and my persecutor ; and, at last, as if
all this were not enough, he has found means to spread
the pestilence in my own family. You, whom we took
up out of charity, the chance-born brat of a stolen
CALEB WILLIAMS. 73
marriage! you must turn upon your benefactor, and
wound me in the point that of all others I could least
bear. If I were your enemy, should not I have reason ?
Could I ever inflict upon you such injuries as you have
made me suffer? And who are you? The lives of
fifty such cannot atone for an hour of my uneasiness.
If you were to linger for twenty years upon the rack,
you would never feel what I have felt. But I am your
friend. I see which way you are going; and I am de-
termined to save you from this thief, this hypocritical
destroyer of us all Every moment that the mischief
is left to itself, it does but make bad worse ; and I am
determined to save you out of hand."
The angry expostulations of Mr. Tyrrel suggested
new ideas to the tender mind of Miss Melville. He
had never confessed the emotions of his soul so ex-
plicitly before ; but the tempest of his thoughts suffer-
ed him to be no longer master of himself. She saw
with astonishment that he was the irreconcilable foe
of Mr. Falkland, whom she had fondly imagined it
was the same thing to know and admire ; and that he
harboured a deep and rooted resentment against her-
self. She recoiled, without well knowing why, before
the ferocious passions of her kinsman, and was con-
vinced that she had nothing to hope from his im-
placable temper. But her alarm was the prelude of
firmness, and not of cowardice.
" No, sir," replied she, " indeed I will not be driven
any way that you happen to like. I have been used
to obey you, and, in all that is reasonable, I will obey
you still. But you urge me too far. What do you
tell me of Mr. Falkland? Have I ever done any thing
to deserve your unkind suspicions? I am innocent,
and will continue innocent. Mr. Grimes is well enough,
and will no doubt find women that like him ; but he is
74 CALEB WILLIAMS.
not fit for me, and torture shall not force me to be his
wife."
Mr. Tyrrel was not a little astonished at the spirit
which Emily displayed upon this occasion. He had
calculated too securely upon the general mildness and
suavity of her disposition. He now endeavoured to
qualify the harshness of his former sentiments.
" God damn my soul ! And so you can scold, can
you ? You expect every body to turn out of his way,
and fetch and carry, just as you please? I could find
in my heart — But you know my mind. I insist upon
it that you let Grimes court you, and that you lay
aside your sulks, and give him a fair hearing. Will
you do that ? If then you persist in your wilfulness,
why there, I suppose, is an end of the matter. Do not
think that any body is going to marry you, whether
you will or no. You are no such mighty prize, I assure
you. If you knew your own interest, you would be
glad to take the young fellow while he is willing."
Miss Melville rejoiced in the prospect, which the
last words of her kinsman afforded her, of a termina-
tion at no great distance to her present persecutions.
Mrs. Jakeman, to whom she communicated them, con-
gratulated Emily on the returning moderation and
good sense of the squire, and herself on her prudence
in having urged the young lady to this happy expos-
tulation. But their mutual felicitations lasted not
long. Mr. Tyrrel informed Mrs. Jakeman of the neces-
sity in which he found himself of sending her to a
distance, upon a business which would not fail to detain
her several weeks ; and, though the errand by no means
wore an artificial or ambiguous face, the two friends
drew a melancholy presage from this ill-timed separa-
tion. Mrs. Jakeman, in the mean time, exhorted her
ward to persevere, reminded her of the compunction
CALEB WILLIAMS. 75
which had already been manifested by her kinsman,
and encouraged her to hope every thing from her cou-
rage and good temper. Emily, on her part, though
grieved at the absence of her protector and counsellor
at so interesting a crisis, was unable to suspect Mr.
Tyrrel of such a degree either of malice or duplicity
as could afford ground for serious alarm. She congra-
tulated herself upon her delivery from so alarming a
persecution, and drew a prognostic of future success
from this happy termination of the first serious affair of
her life. She exchanged a state of fortitude and alarm
for her former pleasing dreams respecting Mr. Falk-
land. These she bore without impatience. She was
even taught by the uncertainty of the event to desire
to prolong, rather than abridge, a situation which might
be delusive, but which was not without its pleasures.
CHAPTER VIII.
NOTHING could be further from Mr.Tyrrel's intention
than to suffer his project to be thus terminated. No
sooner was he freed from the fear of his housekeeper's
interference, than he changed the whole system of his
conduct. He ordered Miss Melville to be closely con-
fined to her apartment, and deprived of all means of
communicating her situation to any one out of his own
house. He placed over her a female servant, in whose
discretion he could confide, and who, having formerly
been honoured with the amorous notices of the squire,
considered the distinctions that were paid to Emily at
Tyrrel Place as an usurpation upon her more reason-
able claims. The squire himself did every thing in his
power to blast the young lady's reputation, and repre-
76 CALEB WILLIAMS.
sented to his attendants these precautions as necessary,
to prevent her from eloping to his neighbour, and
plunging herself in total ruin.
As soon as Miss Melville had been twenty-four hours
in durance, and there was some reason to suppose that
her spirit might be subdued to the emergency of her
situation, Mr. Tyrrel thought proper to go to her, to
explain the grounds of her present treatment, and
acquaint her with the only means by which she could
hope for a change. Emily no sooner saw him, than
she turned towards him with an air of greater firmness
than perhaps she had ever assumed in her life, and
accosted him thus : —
" Well, sir, is it you ? I wanted to see you. It seems
I am shut up here by your orders. What does this
mean? What right have you to make a prisoner of
me ? What do I owe you ? Your mother left me a
hundred pounds : have you ever offered to make any
addition to my fortune ? But, if you had, I do not
want it. I do not pretend to be better than the children
of other poor parents ; I can maintain myself as they
do. I prefer liberty to wealth. I see you are sur-
prised at the resolution I exert. But ought I not to
turn again, when I am trampled upon ? I should have
left you before now, if Mrs. Jakeman had not over-
persuaded me, and if I had not thought better of you
than by your present behaviour I find you deserve.
But now, sir, I intend to leave your house this moment,
and insist upon it, that you do not endeavour to pre-
vent me."
Thus saying, she rose, and went towards the door,
while Mr. Tyrrel stood thunderstruck at her mag-
nanimity. Seeing, however, that she was upon the
point of being out of the reach of his power, he re-
covered himself, and pulled her back.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 77
'• What is in the wind now ? Do you think, strumpet,
that you shall get the better of me by sheer impudence?
Sit down ! rest you satisfied ! — So you want to know
by what right you are here, do you ? By the right of
possession. This house is mine, and you are in my
power. There is no Mrs. Jakeman now to spirit you
away ; no, nor no Falkland to bully for you. I have
countermined you, damn me ! and blown up your
schemes. Do you think I will be contradicted and
opposed for nothing ? When did you ever know any
body resist my will without being made to repent ? And
shall I now be brow-beaten by a chitty-faced girl ? —
I have not given you a fortune ! Damn you ! who
brought you up? I will make you a bill for clothing
and lodging. Do not you know that every creditor has
a right to stop his runaway debtor. You may think as
you please ; but here you are till you marry Grimes.
Heaven and earth shall not prevent but I will get the
better of your obstinacy ! "
" Ungenerous, unmerciful man ! and so it is enough
for you that I have nobody to defend me ! But I am
not so helpless as you may imagine. You may imprison
my body, but you cannot conquer my mind. Marry
Mr. Grimes ! And is this the way to bring me to your
purpose? Every hardship I suffer puts still further
distant the end for which I am thus unjustly treated.
You are not used to have your will contradicted !
When did I ever contradict it? And, in a concern
that is so completely my own, shall my will go for
nothing ? Would you lay down this rule for yourself,
and suffer no other creature to take the benefit of it ?
I want nothing of you : how dare you refuse me the
privilege of a reasonable being, to live unmolested in
poverty and innocence ? What sort of a man do you
78 CALEB WILLIAMS.
show yourself, you that lay claim to the respect ahd
applause of every one that knows you ?"
The spirited reproaches of Emily had at first the
effect to fill Mr. Tyrrel with astonishment, and make
him feel abashed and overawed in the presence of this
unprotected innocent. But his confusion was the re-
sult of surprise. When the first emotion wore off, he
cursed himself for being moved by her expostulations ;
and was ten times more exasperated against her, for
daring to defy his resentment at a time when she had
every thing to fear. His despotic and unforgiving pro-
pensities stimulated him to a degree little short of
madness. At the same time his habits, which were
pensive and gloomy, led him to meditate a variety of
schemes to punish her obstinacy. He began to suspect
that there was little hope of succeeding by open force,
and therefore determined to have recourse to treachery.
He found in Grimes an instrument sufficiently adapted
to his purpose, This fellow, without an atom of inten-
tional malice, was fitted, by the mere coarseness of his
perceptions, for the perpetration of the greatest injuries.
He regarded both injury and advantage merely as they
related to the gratifications of appetite ; and considered
it an essential in true wisdom, to treat with insult the
effeminacy of those who suffer themselves to be tor-
mented with ideal misfortunes. He believed that no
happier destiny could befal a young woman than to be
his wife; and he conceived that that termination would
amply compensate for any calamities she might sup-
pose herself to undergo in the interval. He was there-
fore easily prevailed upon, by certain temptations which
Mr. Tyrrel knew how to employ, to take part in the
plot into which Miss Melville was meant to be betrayed.
Matters being thus prepared, Mr. Tyrrel proceeded,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 79
through the means of the gaoler (for the experience he
already had of personal discussion did not incline him
to repeat his visits), to play upon the fears of his pri-
soner. This woman, sometimes under the pretence of
friendship, and sometimes with open malice, informed
Emily, from time to time, of the preparations that were
making for her marriage. One day, " the squire had
rode over to look at a neat little farm which was des-
tined for the habitation of the new-married couple ;w
and at another, " a quantity of live stock and house-
hold furniture was procured, that every thing might be
ready for their reception." She then told her " of a
licence that was bought, a parson in readiness, and a
day fixed for the nuptials." When Emily endeavoured,
though with increased misgivings, to ridicule these
proceedings as absolutely nugatory without her consent,
her artful gouvernante related several stories of forced
marriages, and assured her that neither protestations,
nor silence, nor fainting, would be of any avail, either
to suspend the ceremony, or to set it aside when per-
formed.
The situation of Miss Melville was in an eminent
degree pitiable. She had no intercourse but with her
persecutors. She had not a human being with whom
to consult, who might afford her the smallest degree of
consolation and encouragement. She had fortitude ;
but it was neither confirmed nor directed by the dic-
tates of experience. It could not therefore be expected
to be so inflexible, as with better information it would,
no doubt, have been found. She had a clear and noble
spirit; but she had some of her sex's errors. Her
mind sunk under the uniform terrors with which she
was assailed, and her health became visibly impaired.
Her firmness being thus far undermined, Grimes, in
pursuance of his instructions, took care, in his next
80 CALEB WILLIAMS.
interview, to throw out an insinuation that, for his own
part, he had never cared for the match, and since she
was so averse to it, would be better pleased that it
should never take place. Between one and the other
however, he was got into a scrape, and now he sup-
posed he must marry, will he, nill he. The two squires
would infallibly ruin him upon the least appearance of
backwardness on his part, as they were accustomed to
do every inferior that resisted their will. Emily was
rejoiced to find her admirer in so favourable a dispo-
sition ; and earnestly pressed him to give effect to this
humane declaration. Her representations were full of
eloquence and energy; Grimes appeared to be moved
at the fervency of her manner ; but objected the resent-
ment of Mr. Tyrrel and his landlord. At length, how-
ever, he suggested a project, in consequence of which
he might assist her in her escape, without its ever
coming to their knowledge, as, indeed, there was no
likelihood that their suspicions would fix upon him.
" To be sure," said he, " you have refused me in a dis-
dainful sort of a way, as a man may say. Mayhap you
thought I was no better 'an a brute : but I bear you
no malice, and I will show you that I am more kind-
hearted 'an you have been willing to think. It is a
strange sort of a vagary you have taken, to stand in
your own light, and disoblige all your friends. But if
you are resolute, do you see ? I scorn to be the hus-
band of a lass that is not every bit as willing as I ; and
go I will even help to put you in a condition to follow
your own inclinations."
Emily listened to these suggestions at first with
eagerness and approbation. But her fervency some-
what abated, when they came to discuss the minute
parts of the undertaking. It was necessary, as Grimes
-informed her, that her escape should be effected in the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 81
dead of the night. He would conceal himself for that
purpose in the garden, and be provided with false keys,
by which to deliver lu-r from her prison. These cir-
cumstances were by no means adapted to calm her
perturbed imagination. To throw herself into the arms
of the man whose intercourse she was employing every
method to avoid, and whom, under the idea of a partner
for life, she could least of all men endure, was, no
doubt, an extraordinary proceeding. The attendant
circumstances of darkness and solitude aggravated the
picture. The situation of Tyrrel Place was uncom-
monly lonely ; it was three miles from the nearest
village, and not less than seven from that in which
Mrs. Jakeman's sister resided, under whose protection
Miss Melville was desirous of placing herself. The in-
genuous character of Emily did not allow her once to
suspect Grimes of intending to make an ungenerous
and brutal advantage of these circumstances ; but her
mind involuntarily revolted against the idea of com-
mitting herself, alone, to the disposal of a man, whom
she had lately been accustomed to consider as the instru-
ment of her treacherous relation.
After having for some time revolved these consider-
ations, she thought of the expedient of desiring Grimes
to engage Mrs. Jakeman's sister to wait for her at the
outside of the garden. But this Grimes peremptorily
refused. He even flew into a passion at the proposal.
It showed very little gratitude, to desire him to disclose
to other people his concern in this dangerous affair.
For his part, he was determined, in consideration of his
own safety, never to appear in it to any living soul. If
Miss did not believe him, when he made this proposal
out of pure good-nature, and would not trust him a
single inch, she might even see to the consequences
herself. He was resolved to condescend no further to
32 CALEB WILLIAMS.
the whims of a person who, in her treatment of him,
had shown herself as proud as Lucifer himself.
Emily exerted herself to appease his resentment; but
all the eloquence of her new confederate could not prevail
upon her instantly to give up her objection. She desired
till the next day to consider of it. The day after was
fixed by Mr. Tyrrel for the marriage ceremony. In
the mean time she was pestered with intimations, in a
thousand forms, of the fate that so nearly awaited her.
The preparations were so continued, methodical, and
regular, as to produce in her the most painful and
aching anxiety. If her heart attained a moment's inter-
mission upon the subject, her female attendant was
sure, by some sly hint or sarcastical remark, to put a
speedy termination to her tranquillity. She felt herself,
as she afterwards remarked, alone, uninstructed, just
broken loose, as it were, from the trammels of infancy,
without one single creature to concern himself in her
fate. She, who till then never knew an enemy, had
now, for three weeks, not seen the glimpse of a human
countenance, that she had not good reason to consider
as wholly estranged to her at least, if not unrelentingly
bent on her destruction. She now, for the first time,
experienced the anguish of never having known her
parents, and being cast upon the charity of people with
whom she had too little equality, to hope to receive
from them the offices of friendship^
The succeeding night was filled with the most anxious
thoughts. When a momentary oblivion stole upon her
senses, her distempered imagination conjured up a
thousand images of violence and falsehood ; she saw
herself in the hands of her determined enemies, who
did not hesitate by the most daring treachery to com-
plete her ruin. Her waking thoughts were not more
consoling. The struggle was too great for her consti-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 83
tution. As morning approached, she resolved, at all
hazards, to put herself into the hands of Grimes. This
determination was no sooner made, than she felt her
heart sensibly lightened. She could not conceive any
evil which could result from this proceeding, that de-
served to be put in the balance against those which,
under the roof of her kinsman, appeared unavoidable.
When she communicated her determination to
Grimes, it was not possible to say whether he received
pleasure or pain from the intimation. He smiled in-
deed; but his smile was accompanied by a certain
abrupt ruggedness of countenance, so that it might
equally well be the smile of sarcasm or of congratulation.
He, however, renewed his assurances of fidelity to his
engagements and punctuality of execution. Meanwhile
the day was interspersed with nuptial presents and
preparations, all indicating the firmness as well as
security of the directors of the scene. Emily had
hoped that, as the crisis approached, they might have
remitted something of their usual diligence. She was
resolved, in that case, if a fair opportunity had offered,
to give the slip both to her jailors, and to her new and
reluctantly chosen confederate. But, though extremely
vigilant for that purpose, she found the execution of
the idea impracticable.
At length the night, so critical to her happiness,
approached. The mind of Emily could not fail, on this
occasion, to be extremely agitated. She had first
exerted all her perspicacity to elude the vigilance of
her attendant. This insolent and unfeeling tyrant, in-
stead of any relentings, had only sought to make sport
of her anxiety. Accordingly, in one instance she hid
herself, and, suffering Emily to suppose that the coast
was clear, met her at the end of the gallery, near the
top of the staircase. " How do you do, my dear?*
G 2
84 CALEB WILLIAMS.
said she, with an insulting tone. " And so the little
dear thought itself cunning enough to outwit me, did
it ? Oh, it was a sly little gipsy ! Go, go back, love ;
troop ! " Emily felt deeply the trick that was played
upon her. She sighed, but disdained to return any
answer to this low vulgarity. Being once more in her
chamber, she sat down in a chair, and remained buried
in reverie for more than two hours. After this she
went to her drawers, and turned over, in a hurrying
confused way, her linen and clothes, having in her
mind the provision it would be necessary to make for
her elopement. Her jailor officiously followed her from
place to place, and observed what she did for the
present in silence. It was now the hour of rest. " Good
night, child," said this saucy girl, in the act of retiring.
<•' It is time to lock up. For the few next hours, the time
is your own. Make the best use of it ! Do'ee think
ee can creep out at the key-hole, lovey? At eight
o'clock you see me again. And then, and then," added
she, clapping her hands, « it is all over. The sun is
not surer to rise, than you and your honest man to be
made one."
There was something in the tone with which this
slut uttered her farewell, that suggested the question
to Emily, « What does she mean ? Is it possible that
she should know what has been planned for the few
next hours?" — This was the first moment that suspi-
cion had offered itself, and its continuance was short.
With an aching heart she folded up the few neces-
saries she intended to take with her. She instinctively
listened, with an anxiety that would almost have
enabled her to hear the stirring of a leaf. From time
to time she thought her ear was struck with the sound
of feet ; but the treading, if treading it were, was so
soft, that she could never ascertain whether it were a
CALEB WILLIAMS. 85
real sound, or the mere creature of the fancy. Then
all was still, as if the universal motion had been at rest.
By and by she conceived she overheard a noise as of
buzzing and low-muttered speech. Her heart palpi-
tated ; for a second time she began to doubt the honesty
of Grimes. The suggestion was now more anxious
than before ; but it was too late. Presently she heard
the sound of a key in her chamber-door, and the rustic
made his appearance. She started, and cried, " Are
we discovered? did not I hear you speak ?" Grimes
advanced on tiptoe with his finger to his lip. " No,
no," replied he, " all is safe!" He took her by the
hand, led her in silence out of the house, and then
across the garden. Emily examined with her eye the
doors and passages as they proceeded, and looked on all
sides with fearful suspicion ; but every thing was as
vacant and still as she herself could have wished.
Grime* opened a back-door of the garden already
unlocked, that led into an unfrequented lane. There
stood two horses ready equipped for the journey, and
fastened by their bridles to a po.<t not six yards distant
from the garden. Grimes pushed the door after them.
" By Gemini,** ?aid he, " my heart was in my mouth.
As 1 corned along to you, I saw Mun, coachey, pop
along from the back-door to the stables. He was
within a hop, step, and jump of me. But he had a
lanthorn in his hand, and he did not see me, being as I
was darkling." Saying this, he assisted Miss Melville
to mount. He troubled her little during the route;
on the contrary, he was remarkably silent and contem-
plative, a circumstance by no means disagreeable to
Emily, to whom his conversation had never been
acceptable.
After having proceeded about two miles, they turned
into a wood, through which the road led to the place
0 3
$6 CALEB WILLIAMS.
of their destination. The night was extremely dark,
at the same time that the air was soft and mild, it
being now the middle of summer. Under pretence of
exploring the way, Grimes contrived, when they had
already penetrated into the midst of this gloomy soli-
tude, to get his horse abreast with that of Miss Melville,
and then, suddenly reaching out his hand, seized hold
of her bridle* " I think we may as well stop here a
bit," said he.
" Stop ! " exclaimed Emily with surprise ; " why
should we stop ? Mr. Grimes, what do you mean ? "
" Come, come," said he, " never trouble yourself to
wonder. Did you think I were such a goose, to take
all this trouble merely to gratify your whim ? I' faith,
nobody shall find me a pack-horse, to go of other folks'
errands, without, knowing a reason why. I cannot say
that I much minded to have you at first ; but your ways
are enough to stir the blood of my grand-dad. Far-
fetched and dear-bought is always relishing. Your
consent was so hard to gain, that squire thought it was
surest asking in the dark. A' said however, a' would
have no such doings in his house, and so, do ye see,
we are corned here."
" For God's sake, Mr. Grimes, think what you are
about ! You cannot be base enough to ruin a poor
creature who has put herself under your protection !
" Ruin ! No, no, I will make an honest woman of
you, when all is done. Nay, none of your airs ; no
tricks upon travellers ! I have you here as safe as a
horse in a pound; there is not a house nor a shed
within a mile of us ; and, if I miss the opportunity,
call me spade. Faith, you are a delicate morsel, and
there is no time to be lost ! "
Miss Melville had but an instant in which to collect
her thoughts. She felt that there was little hope of
' CALEB WILLIAMS. 87
softening the obstinate and insensible brute in whose
power she was placed. But the presence of mind and
intrepidity annexed to her character did not now desert
her. Grimes had scarcely finished his harangue, when,
with a strong and unexpected jerk, she disengaged the
bridle from his grasp, and at the same time put her horse
upon full speed. She had scarcely advanced twice
the length of her horse, when Grimes recovered from
his surprise, and pursued her, inexpressibly mortified
at being so easily overreached. The sound of his horse
behind served but to rouse more completely the mettle
of that of Emily ; whether by accident or sagacity, the
animal pursued without a fault the narrow and winding
way ; and the chase continued the whole length of the
wood.
At the extremity of this wood there was a gate.
The recollection of this softened a. little the cutting
disappointment of Grimes, as he thought himself secure
of putting an end, by its assistance, to the career of
Emily ; nor was it very probable that any body would
appear to interrupt his designs, in such a place, and
in the dead and silence of the night. By the most
extraordinary accident, however, they found a man
on horseback in wait at this gate. " Help, help ! "
exclaimed the affrighted Emily; "thieves! murder!
help?" The man was Mr. Falkland. Grimes knew his
voice; and therefore, though he attempted a sort of
sullen resistance, it was feebly made. Two other men,
whom, by reason of the darkness, he had not at first
seen, and who were Mr. Falkland's servants, hearing
the bustle of the rencounter, and alarmed for the safety
of their master, rode up ; and then Grimes, disappointed
at the loss of his gratification, and admonished by con-
scious guilt, shrunk from farther parley, and rode off* in
silence.
o 4
88 CALEB WILLIAMS.
It may seem strange that Mr. Falkland should thus
a second time have been the saviour of Miss Melville,
and that under circumstances the most unexpected
and singular. But in this instance it is easily to be
accounted for. He had heard of a man who lurked
about this wood for robbery or some other bad design,
and that it was conjectured this man was Hawkins,
another of the victims of Mr. Tyrrel's rural tyranny,
whom I shall immediately have occasion to introduce.
Mr. Falkland's compassion had already been strongly
excited in favour of Hawkins ; he had in vain en-
deavoured to find him, and do him good ; and he easily
conceived that, if the conjecture which had been made
in this instance proved true, he might have it in his
power not only to do what he had always intended,
but further, to save from a perilous offence against the
laws and society a man who appeared to have strongly
imbibed the principles of justice and virtue. He took
with him two servants, because, going with the express
design of encountering robbers, if robbers should be
found, he believed he should be inexcusable if he did
not go provided against possible accidents. But he
had directed them, at the same time that they kept
within call, to be out of the reach of being seen ; and
it was only the eagerness of their zeal that had brought
them up thus early in the present encounter.
This new adventure promised something extraordi-
nary. Mr. Falkland did not immediately recognise
Miss Melville ; and the person of Grimes was that of
a total stranger, whom he did not recollect to have
ever seen. But it was easy to understand the merits
of the case, and the propriety of interfering. The
resolute manner of Mr. Falkland, combined with the
dread which Grimes, oppressed with a sense of wrong,
entertained of the opposition of so elevated a per-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 89
sonage, speedily put the ruvisher to flight. Emily was
ktt alone- with her deliverer. He found her mueh more
collected and calm, than could reasonably have been
expected from a person who had been, a moment be-
fore, in the most alarming situation. She told him of
the place to which she desired to be conveyed, and
he immediately undertook to escort her. As they
went along, she recovered that state of mind which
inclined her to make a person to whom she had such
repeated obligations, and who was so eminently the
object of her admiration, acquainted with the events
that had recently befallen her. Mr. Falkland listened
with eagerness and surprise. Though he had already
known various instances of Mr. Tyrrel's mean jealousy
and unfeeling tyranny, this surpassed them all ; and he
could scarcely credit his ears while he heard the tale-
His brutal neighbour seemed to realise all that has
been told of the passions of fiends. Miss Melville was
obliged to repeat, in the course of her tale, her kins-
man's rude accusation against her, of entertaining a
passion for Mr. Falkland; and this she did with the
most bewitching simplicity and charming confusion.
Though this part of the tale was a source of real pain
to her deliverer, yet it is not to be supposed but that
the flattering partiality of this unhappy girl increased
the interest he felt in her welfare, and the indignation
he conceived against her infernal kinsman.
They arrived without accident at the house of the
good lady under whose protection Emily desired to
place herself. Here Mr. Falkland willingly left her as
in a place of security. Such conspiracies as that of
which she was intended to have been the victim, de-
pend for their success upon the person against whom
they are formed being out of the reach of help ; and
the moment they are detected, they are annihilated.
90 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Such reasoning will, no doubt, be generally found suffi-
ciently solid ; and it appeared to Mr. Falkland perfectly
applicable to the present case. But he was mistaken.
CHAPTER IX.
MR. FALKLAND had experienced the nullity of all
expostulation with Mr, Tyrrel, and was therefore con-
tent in the present case with confining his attention
to the intended victim. The indignation with which
he thought of his neighbour's character was now grown
to such a height, as to fill him with reluctance to the
idea of a voluntary interview. There was indeed
another affair which had been contemporary with this,
that had once more brought these mortal enemies into
a state of contest, and had contributed to raise into a
temper little short of madness, the already inflamed
and corrosive bitterness of Mr. TyrreL
There was a tenant of Mr. Tyrrel, one Hawkins ; —
I cannot mention his name without recollecting the
painful tragedies that are annexed to it ! This Haw-
kins had originally been taken up by Mr. Tyrrel, with
a view of protecting him from the arbitrary proceedings
of a neighbouring squire, though he had now in his
turn become an object of persecution to Mr. Tyrrel
himself. The first ground of their connection was this :
— Hawkins, beside a farm which he rented under the
above-mentioned squire, had a small freehold estate
that he inherited from his father. This of course en-
titled him to a vote in the county elections ; and, a
warmly contested election having occurred, he was
required by his landlord to vote for the candidate in
CALEB WILLIAMS. 01
whose favour he had himself engaged. Hawkins re-
ftised to obey the mandate, and soon after received
notice to quit the farm he at that time rented.
It happened that Mr. Tyrrel had interested himself
strongly in behalf of the opposite candidate ; and, as
Mr. Tyrrel's estate bordered upon the seat of Haw-
kins's present residence, the ejected countryman could
think of no better expedient than that of riding over
to this gentleman's mansion, and relating the case to
him. Mr. Tyrrel heard him through with attention.
" Well, friend," said he, " it is very true that I wished
Mr. Jackman to carry his election ; but you know it is
usual in these cases for tenants to vote just as their
landlords please. I do not think proper to encourage
rebellion.** — " All that is very right, and please you,"
replied Hawkins, " and I would have voted at my land-
lord's bidding for any other man in the kingdom but
Squire Marlow. You must know one day his huntsman
rode over my fence, and so through my best field of
standing corn. It was not above a dozen yards about
if he had kept the cart-road. The fellow had served
me the same sauce, an it please your honour, three or
four times before. So I only asked him what he did
that for, and whether he had not more conscience
than to spoil people's crops o' that fashion ? Presently
the squire came up. He is but a poor, weazen-face
chicken of a gentleman, saving your honour's reverence.
And so he flew into a woundy passion, and threatened
to horsewhip me. I will do as much in reason to
pleasure my landlord as arr a tenant he has ; but I will
not give my vote to a man that threatens to horsewhip
me. And so, your honour, I and my wife and three
children are to be turned out of house and home, and
what I am to do to maintain them God knows. I have
been a hard-working man, and have always lived well,
92 CALEB WILLIAMS.
and I do think the case is main hard. Squire Under-
wood turns me out of my farm ; and if your honour do
not take me in, I know none of the neighbouring gentry
will, for fear, as they say, of encouraging their own
tenants to run rusty too."
This representation was not without its effect upon
Mr. Tyrrel. " Well, well, man," replied he, " we will
see what can be done. Order and subordination are
very good things ; but people should know how much to
require. As you tell the story, I cannot see that you
are greatly to blame. Marlow is a coxcombical prig,
that is the truth on't ; and if a man will expose himself,
why, he must even take what follows. I do hate a
Frenchified fop with all my soul ; and I cannot say that
I am much pleased with my neighbour Underwood for
taking the part of such a rascal. Hawkins, I think, is
your name ? You may call on Barnes, my steward, to-
morrow, and he shall speak to you."
While Mr. Tyrrel was speaking, he recollected that
he had a farm vacant, of nearly the same value as that
which Hawkins at present rented under Mr. Under-
wood. He immediately consulted his steward, and,
finding the thing suitable in every respect, Hawkins
was installed out of hand in the catalogue of Mr.
Tyrrel's tenants. Mr. Underwood extremely resented
this proceeding, which indeed, as being contrary to the
understood conventions of the country gentlemen, few
people but Mr. Tyrrel would have ventured upon.
There was an end, said Mr. Underwood, to all regu-
lation, if tenants were to be encouraged in such dis-
obedience. It was not a question of this or that can-
didate, seeing that any gentleman, who was a true
friend to his country, would rather lose his election
than do a thing which, if once established into a prac-
tice, would deprive them for ever of the power of ma-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 93
naging any election. The labouring people were sturdy
and resolute enough of their own accord ; it became
CM ry day more difficult to keep them under any sub-
ordination ; and, if the gentlemen were so ill advised as
to neglect the public good, and encourage them in their
insolence, there was no foreseeing where it would end.
Mr. Tyrrel was not of a stamp to be influenced by
these remonstrances. Their general spirit was suf-
ficiently conformable to the sentiments he himself en-
tertained ; but he was of too vehement a temper to
maintain the character of a consistent politician ; and,
however wrong his conduct might be, he would by no
means admit of its being set right by the suggestions
of others. The more his patronage of Hawkins was
criticised, the more inflexibly he adhered to it; and
he was at no loss in clubs and other assemblies to
overbear and silence, if not to confute, his censurers.
Beside which, Hawkins had certain accomplishments
which qualified him to be a favourite with Mr. Tyrrel.
The bluntness of his manner and the ruggedness of
his temper gave him some resemblance to his lundord ;
and, as these qualities were likely to be more frequently
exercised on such persons as had incurred Mr. Tyrrel's
displeasure, than upon Mr. Tyrrel himself, they were
not observed without some degree of complacency. In
a word, he every day received new marks of distinction
from his patron, and after some time was appointed
coadjutor to Mr. Barnes under the denomination of
bailiff. It was about the same period that he obtained
a lease of the farm of which he was tenant.
Mr. Tyrrel determined, as occasion offered, to pro-
mote every part of the family of this favoured de-
pendent. Hawkins had a son, a lad of seventeen, of an
agreeable* person, a ruddy complexion, and of quick and
lively parts. This lad was in an uncommon degree the
94 • CALEB WILLIAMS.
favourite of his father, who seemed to have nothing so
much at heart as the future welfare of his son. Mr.
Tyrrel had noticed him two or three times with appro-
bation ; and the boy, being fond of the sports of the
field, had occasionally followed the hounds, anddisplayed
various instances, both of agility and sagacity, in ,pre*
sence of the squire. One day in particular he ex-
hibited himself with uncommon advantage ; and Mr.
Tyrrel without further delay proposed to his father,
to take him into his family, and make him whipper-in
to his hounds, till he could provide him with some
more lucrative appointment in his service.
This proposal was received by Hawkins with various
marks of mortification. He excused himself with hesi-
tation for not accepting the offered favour; said the
lad was in many ways useful to him ; and hoped his
honour would not insist upon depriving him of his as-
sistance. This apology might perhaps have been suf-
ficient with any other man than Mr. Tyrrel ; but it
was frequently observed of this gentleman that, when
he had once formed a determination, however slight,
in favour of any measure, he was never afterwards
known to give it up, and that the only effect of oppo-
sition was to make him eager and inflexible, in pursuit
of that to which he had before been nearly indifferent.
At first he seemed to receive the apology of Hawkins
with good humour, and to see nothing in it but what
was reasonable ; but afterwards, every time he saw the
boy, his desire of retaining him in his service was in-
creased, and he more than once repeated to his father
the good disposition in which he felt himself towards
him. At length he observed that the lad was no
more to be seen mingling in his favourite sports, and
he began to suspect that this originated in a determin-
ation to thwart him in his projects.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 95
Housed by this suspicion, which, to a man of Mr.
Tyrrel's character, was not of a nature to brook delay,
he sent lor Hawkins to confer with him. " Hawkin>. "
said he, in a tone of displeasure, " I am not satisfied
with you. I have spoken to you two or three times
about this lad of yours, whom I am desirous of taking
into favour. \Vliat is the reason, sir, that yon seem
unthankful and averse to my kindness? You ought to
know that I am not to be trifled with. I shall not be con-
tented, when I offer my favours, to have them rejected
by such fellows as you. I made you what you are ;
and, if I please, can make you more helpless and miser-
able than you were when I found you. Have a care ! "
" An it please your honour,"* said Hawkins, " you
have been a very good master to me, and I will tell you
the whole truth. I hope you will n.a be angry. This
lad is my favourite, my comfort, and the stay of my
age/'
M Well, and what then ? Is that a reason you should
hinder his preferment ? "
" Nay, pray your honour, hear me. I may be
very weak for aught I know in this case, but I cannot
help it My father was a clergyman. We have all of
us lived in a creditable way ; and I cannot bear to
think that this poor lad of mine should go to service.
For my part, I do not see any good that comes by
servants. I do not know, your honour, but, I think, I
should not like my Leonard to be such as they. God
forgive me, if I wrong them ! But this is a very dear
case, and I cannot bear to risk my poor boy's welfare,
when I can so easily, if yon please, keep him out of
harm's way. At present he is sober and industrious,
and, without being pert or surly, knows what is due to
him. I know, your honour, that it is main foolish of
me to talk to you thus; but your honour lias been,
96 CALEB WILLIAMS,
a good master to me, and I cannot bear to tell you a
lie."
Mr. Tyrrel had heard the whole of this harangue in
silence, because he was too much astonished to open
his mouth. If a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet, he
could not have testified greater surprise. He had
thought that Hawkins was so foolishly fond of his son,
that he could not bear to trust him out of his presence;
but had never in the slightest degree suspected what
he now found to be the truth.
" Oh, ho, you are a gentleman, are you? A pretty
gentleman truly ! your father was a clergyman ! Your
family is too good to enter into my service ! Why you
impudent rascal ! was it for this that I took you up,
when Mr. Underwood dismissed you for your insolence
to him ? Have 1 been nursing a viper in my bosom ?
Pretty master's manners will be contaminated truly !
He will not know what is due to him, but will be ac-
customed to obey orders ! You insufferable villain ! Get
out of my sight ! Depend upon it, I will have no gentle-
men on my estate ! I will off with them, root and branch,
bag and baggage ! So do you hear, sir ? come to me
to-morrow morning, bring your son, and ask my pardon;
or, take my word for it, I will make you so miserable,
you shall wish you had never been born."
This treatment was too much for Hawkins's patience.
" There is no need, your honour, that I should come
to you again about this affair. I have taken up my
determination, and no time can make any change in it.
I am main sorry to displease your worship, and I know
that you can do me a great deal of mischief. But I
hope you will not be so hardhearted as to ruin a father
only for being fond of his child, even if so be that his
fondness should make him do a foolish thing. But I
cannot help it, your honour : you must do as you
CALEB WILLIAMS. 97
please. The poorest neger, as a man may say, has
some point that he will not part with. I will lose all
that I have, and go to day-labour, and my son too, if
needs must ; but I will not make a gentleman's servant
of him."
« Very well, friend; very well !" replied Mr. Tyrrel,
foaming with rage. " Depend upon it, I will remember
you ! Your pride shall have a downfal ! God damn
it ! is it come to this ? Shall a rascal that farms his
forty acres, pretend to beard the lord of the manor ? I
will tread you into paste! Let me advise you, scoundrel,
to shut up your house and fly, as if the devil was behind
you ! You may think yourself happy, if I be not too
quick for you yet, if you escape in a whole skin ! I would
not suffer such a villain to remain upon my land a day
longer, if I could gain the Indies by it !"
" Not so fast, your honour," answered Hawkins,
sturdily. •• I hope you will think better of it, and see
that I have not been to blame. But if you should
not, there is some harm that you can do me, and some
harm that you cannot. Though I am a plain, working
man, your honour, do you see ? yet I am a man still.
No; I have got a lease of my farm, and I shall not quit it
o' thaten. I hope there is some law for poor folk, as well
as for rich."
Mr. Tyrrel, unused to contradiction, was provoked
beyond bearing at the courage and independent spirit
of his retainer. There was not a tenant upon his estate,
or at least not one of Hawkins's mediocrity of fortune,
whom the general policy of landowners, and still more
the arbitrary and uncontrollable temper of Mr. Tyrrel,
did not effectually restrain from acts of open defiance,
" Excellent, upon my soul ! God damn my blood !
but you are a rare fellow. You have a lease, have
you ? You will not quit, not you ! a pretty pass things
H
98 CALEB WILLIAMS.
are come to, if a lease can protect such fellows as you
against the lord of a manor ! But you are for a trial
of skill ? Oh, very well> friend, very well ! With all my
soul ! Since it is come to that, we will show you some
pretty sport before we have done ! But get out of my
sight, you rascal ! I have not another word to say to
you ! Never darken my doors again."
Hawkins (to borrow the language of the world) was
guilty in this affair of a double imprudence. He talked
to his landlord in a more peremptory manner than the
constitution and practices of this country allow a de-
pendent to assume. But above all, having been thus
hurried away by his resentment, he ought to have fore-
seen the consequences. It was mere madness in him
to think of contesting with a man of Mr. Tyrrel's emi-
nence and fortune. It was a fawn contending with a
lion. Nothing could have been more easy to predict,
than that it was of no avail for him to have right on his
side, when his adversary had influence and wealth, and
therefore could so victoriously justify any extravagan-
cies that he might think proper to commit. This maxim
was completely illustrated in the sequel. Wealth and
despotism easily know how to engage those laws as the
coadjutors of their oppression, which were perhaps at
first intended [witless and miserable precaution !] for the
safeguards of the poor*
From this moment Mr Tyrrel was bent upon Haw-
kins's destruction ; and he left no means unemployed
that could either harass or injure the object of his per-
secution. He deprived him of his appointment of bailiff,
and directed Barnes and his other dependents to do
him ill offices upon all occasions. Mr. Tyrrel, by the
tenure of his manor, was impropriator of the great tithes,
and this circumstance afforded him frequent opportuni-
ties of petty altercation. The land of one part of Haw -
CALEB WILLIAMS. 99
kins's farm, though covered with corn, was lower than
the rest; and consequently exposed to occasional inun-
dations from a ri\rr by \\hich it was bounded. Mr.
Tyrrel had a dam belonging to this river privately cut,
about a fortnight before the season of harvest, and laid
the whole under water. He ordered his servants to pull
away the fences of the higher ground during the night,
and to turn in his cattle, to the utter destruction of the
crop. These expedients, however, applied to only one
part of the property of this unfortunate man. But Mr.
Tyrrel did not stop here. A sudden mortality took
place among Hawkins's live stock, attended with very
suspicious circumstances. Hawkins's vigilance was
strongly excited by this event, and he at length suc-
ceeded in tracing the matter so accurately, that he con-
ceived he could bring it home to Mr. Tyrrel himself!
Hawkins had hitherto carefully avoided, notwithstand-
ing the injuries he had suffered, the attempting to right
himself by legal process ; being of opinion that law was
biller adapted for a weapon of tyranny in the hands of
the rich, than for a shield to protect the humbler part of
the community against their usurpations. In this last
instance however he conceived that the offence was so
atrocious, as to make it impossible that any rank could
protect the culprit against the severity of justice. In
the sequel, he saw reason to applaud himself for his for-
mer inactivity in this respect, and to repent that any
motive had been strong enough to persuade him into a
contrary system.
This was the very point to which Mr. Tyrrel wanted
to bring him, and he could scarcely credit his good for-
tune, when he was told that Hawkins had entered an
action. His congratulation upon this occasion was im-
moderate, as he now conceived that the ruin of his late
favourite was irretrievable. He consulted his attorney,
ii 2
100 CALEB WILLIAMS.
and urged him by every motive he could devise, to em-
ploy the whole series of his subterfuges in the present
affair. The direct repelling of the charge exhibited
against him was the least part of his care ; the business
was, by affidavits, motions, pleas, demurrers, flaws, and
appeals, to protract the question from term to term, and
from court to court. It would, as Mr. Tyrrel argued,
be the disgrace of a civilized country, if a gentleman,
when insolently attacked in law by the scum of the
earth, could not convert the cause into a question of the
longest purse, and stick in the skirts of his adversary
till he had reduced him to beggary.
Mr. Tyrrel, however, was by no means so far engrossed
by his law-suit, as to neglect other methods of proceed-
ing offensively against his tenant. Among the various
expedients that suggested "themselves, there was one,
which, though it tended rather to torment than irrepar-
ably injure the sufferer, was not rejected. This was
derived from the particular situation of Hawkins's house,
barns, stacks, and outhouses. They were placed at the
extremity of a slip of land connecting them witli the
rest of the farm, and were surrounded on three sides
by fields, in the occupation of one of Mr. Tyrrel's te-
nants most devoted to the pleasures of his landlord.
The road to the market-town ran at the bottom of the
largest of these fields, and was directly in view of the
front of the house. No inconvenience had yet arisen
from that circumstance, as there had always been abroad
path, that intersected this field, and led directly from
Hawkins's house to the road. This path, or private
road, was now, by concert of Mr. Tyrrel and his obliging
tenant, shut up, so as to make Hawkins a sort of pri-
soner in his own domains, and oblige him to go near a
mile about for the purposes of his traffic.
Young Hawkins, the lad who had been the original
CALEB WILLIAMS. 101
subject of dispute between his father and the squire, had
much ofhis father's spirit, and felt an uncontrollable in-
dignation again>t the successive acts of despotism of
which he was a witness. His resentment was the
greater, because the sufferings to which his parent was
exposed, all of them flowed from affection to him, at
the same time that he could not propose removing the
ground of dispute, as by so doing he would seem to fly
in the face of his father's paternal kindness. Upon the
present occasion, without asking any counsel but of his
own impatient resentment, he went in the middle of
tin- night, and removed all the obstructions that
had been placed in the way of the old path, broke
the padlocks that had been fixed, and threw open the
gates.
In these operations he did not proceed unobserved,
and the next day a warrant was issued for apprehending
him. He was accordingly carried before a meeting of
justices, and by them committed to the county gaol, to
take his trial for the felony at the next assizes. Mr*
Tyrrel was determined to prosecute the offence with the
greatest severity ; and his attorney, having made the
proper enquiries for that purpose, undertook to bring it
under that clause of the act 9Geo. 1. commonly called
the Black Act, which declares that " any person, armed
with a sword, or other offensive weapon, and having his
face blackened, or being otherwise disguised, appearing
in any warren or place where hares or conies have been
or shall be usually kept, and being thereof duly con*
victed, shall be adjudged guilty of felony, and shall
suffer death, as in cases of felony, without benefit of
clergy." Young Hawkins, it seemed, had buttoned the
cape of his great coat over his face, as soon as he per-
ceived himself to be observed, and he was furnished
with a wrenching-iron for the purpose of breaking the
ii 3
102 CALEB WILLIAMS.
padlocks. The attorney further undertook to prove, by
sufficient witnesses, that the field in question was a war-
ren in which hares were regularly fed. Mr. Tyrrel
seized upon these pretences with inexpressible satisfac-
tion. He prevailed upon the justices, by the picture
he drew of the obstinacy and insolence of the Haw-
kinses, fully to commit the lad upon this miserable charge ;
and it was by no means so certain as paternal affection
would have desired, that the same overpowering in-
fluence would not cause in the sequel the penal clause
to be executed in all its strictness.
This was the finishing stroke to Hawkins's miseries :
as he was not deficient in courage, he had stood up
against his other persecutions without flinching. He
was not unaware of the advantages which our laws and
customs give to the rich over the poor, in contentions
of this kind. But, being once involved, there was a
stubbornness in his nature that would not allow him to
retract, and he suffered himself to hope, rather than
expect, a favourable issue. But in this last event he
was wounded in the point that was nearest his heart.
He had feared to have his son contaminated and debased
by a servile station, and he now saw him transferred to
the seminary of a gaol. He was even uncertain as to the
issue of his imprisonment, and trembled to think what
the tyranny of wealth might effect to blast his hopes for
ever.
From this moment his heart died within him. He
had trusted to persevering industry and skill, to save the
wreck of his little property from the vulgar spite of his
landlord. But he had now no longer any spirit to exert
those efforts which his situation more than ever re-
quired. Mr. Tyrrel proceeded without remission in his
machinations ; Hawkins's affairs every day grew more
desperate, and the squire, watching the occasion, took
CALEB WILLIAMS. 103
the earliest opportunity of seizing upon his remaining
property in the mode of a distress for rent.
It ^ily in this stage of the affair, that Mr.
Falkland and Mr. Tyrrel accidentally met, in a private
road near the habitation of the latter. They were on
horseback, and Mr. Falkland was going to the house of
the unfortunate tenant, who seemed upon the point of
perishing under his landlord's malice. He had been just
made acquainted with the tale of this persecution. It
had indeed been an additional aggravation of Hawkins's
calamity, that Mr. Falkland, whose interference might
otherwise have saved him, had been absent from the
neighbourhood for a considerable time. He had been
three months in London, and from thence had gone to
visit his estates in another part of the island. The
proud and self-confident spirit of this poor fellow always
disposed him to depend, as long as possible, upon his
own exertions. He had avoided applying to Mr.
Falkland, or indeed indulging himself in any manner in
communicating and bewailing his hard hap, in the be-
ginning of the contention; and, when the extremity
grew more urgent, and he would have been willing to
recede in some degree from the stubbornness of his
measures, he found it no longer in his power. After
an absence of considerable duration, Mr. Falkland at
length returned somewhat unexpectedly ; and having
learned, among the first articles of country intelli-
gence, the distresses of this unfortunate yeoman, he
resolved to ride over to his house the next morning,
and surprise him with all the relief it was in his power
to bestow.
At sight of Mr. Tyrrel in this unexpected rencounter,
his face reddened with indignation. His first feeling)
as he afterwards said, was to avoid him ; but finding
that he must pass him, he conceived that it would be
H 4
104, CALEB WILLIAMS.
want of spirit not to acquaint him with his feelings on
the present occasion.
« Mr. Tyrrel," said he, somewhat abruptly, " I am
sorry for a piece of news which I have just heard."
« And pray, sir, what is your sorrow to me ? "
" A great deal, sir : it is caused by the distresses of
a poor tenant of yours, Hawkins. If your steward
have proceeded without your authority, I think it right
to inform you what he has done ; and, if he have had
your authority, I would gladly persuade you to think
better of it."
" Mr. Falkland, it would be quite as well if you
would mind your own business, and leave me to mind
mine. I want no monitor, and I will have none."
" You mistake, Mr. Tyrrel ; I am minding my own
business. If I see you fall into a pit, it is my business
to draw you out and save your life. If I see you pur-
suing a wrong mode of conduct, it is my business to set
you right and save your honour."
" Zounds, sir, do not think to put your conundrums
upon me! Is not the man my tenant? Is not my
estate my own ? What signifies calling it mine, if I am
not to have the direction of it? Sir, 1 pay for what I
have : I owe no man a penny ; and I will not put my
estate to nurse to you, nor the best he that wears a head."
" It is very true," said Mr. Falkland, avoiding any
direct notice of the last words of Mr. Tyrrel, " that there
is a distinction of ranks. I believe that distinction is a
good thing, and necessary to the peace of mankind.
But, however necessary it may be, we must acknow-
ledge that it puts some hardship upon the lower orders
of society. It makes one's heart ache to think, that one
man is born to the inheritance of every superfluity,
while the whole share of another, without any demerit
of his, is drudgery and starving ; and that all this is
C\I.I.B WII.I.l 105
in»li<;»i usable. We that are rich, Mr. Tyrrel, must do
I-M iy thing in our power to lighten the yoke of these
ui i fortunate people. We must not use the advantage
that accident has given us with an unmerciful hand.
Poor wretches ! they are pressed almost beyond bearing
a- it is; and, if we unfeelingly give another turn to the
machine, they will be crushed into atoms."
This picture was not without its effect, even upon the
obdurate mind of Mr. Tyrrel. — " Well, sir, I am no
tyrant. I know very well that tyranny is a bad thing.
But you do not iufer from thence that these people are
to do as they please, and never meet with their deserts?"
* Mr. Tyrrel, I see that you are shaken in your
animosity. Suffer me to hail the new-born benevo-
leooe of your nature. Go with me to Hawkins. Do
not let us talk of his deserts ! Poor fellow ! he has
suffered almost all that human nature can endure.
Let your forgiveness upon this occasion be the earnest
of good neighbourhood and friendship between you
and me."
" No, sir, I will not go. I own there is something,
in what you say. I always knew you had the wit to
make good your own story, and tell a plausible tale.
But I will not be come over thus. It has been my
character, when I had once conceived a scheme of
vengeance, never to forego it ; and I will not change
that character. I took up Hawkins when every body
forsook him, and made a man of him ; and the un-
grateful rascal has only insulted me for my pains.
Curse me, if I ever forgive him ! It would be a good
jest indeed, if I were to forgive the insolence of my
own creature at the desire of a man like you that has
been my perpetual plague."
" For God's sake, Mr. Tyrrel, have some reason in
your resentment ! Let us suppose that Hawkins has
106 CALEB WILLIAMS.
behaved unjustifiably, and insulted you : is that an
offence that never can be expiated ? Must the father be
ruined, and the son hanged, to glut your resentment ? "
" Damn me, sir, but you may talk your heart out ;
you shall get nothing of me. I shall never forgive
myself for having listened to you for a moment. I
will suffer nobody to stop the stream of my resent-
ment; if I ever were to forgive him, it should be at
nobody's entreaty but my own. But. sir, I never will.
If he and all his family were at my feet, I would order
them all to be hanged the next minute, if my power
were as good as my will."
" And this is your decision, is it ? Mr. Tyrrel, I am
ashamed of you ! Almighty G od ! to hear you talk
gives one a loathing for the institutions and regulations
of society, and would induce one to fly the very face
of man ! But, no ! society casts you out ; man abomi-
nates you. No wealth, no rank, can buy out your stain.
You will live deserted in the midst of your species ;
you will go into crowded societies, and no one will
deign so much as to salute you. They will fly from
your glance as they would from the gaze of a basilisk.
Where do you expect to find the hearts of flint that
shall sympathise with yours ? You have the stamp of
misery, incessant, undivided, unpitied misery ! "
Thus saying, Mr. Falkland gave spurs to his horse,
rudely pushed beside Mr. Tyrrel, and was presently
out of sight. Flaming indignation annihilated even his
favourite sense of honour, and he regarded his neigh-
bour as a wretch, with whom it was impossible even to
enter into contention. For the latter, he remained for
the present motionless and petrified. The glowing
enthusiasm of Mr. Falkland was such as might well
have unnerved the stoutest foe. Mr. Tyrrel, in spite
of himself, was blasted with the compunctions of guilt,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 107
and unable to string himself for the contest. The pic-
ture Mr. Falkland had drawn was prophetic. It de-
scribed what Mr. Tyrrel chiefly feared ; and^what in its
commencements he thought he already felt. It was
responsive to the whispering of his own meditations ;
it simply gave body and voice to the spectre that
haunted him, and to the terrors of which he was an
hourly prey.
By and by, however, he recovered. The more he
had been temporarily confounded, the fiercer was his
resentment when he came to himself. Such hatred
never existed in a human bosom without marking its
progress with violence and death. Mr. Tyrrel, how-
ever, felt no inclination to have recourse to personal
defiance. He was the furthest in the world from a
coward ; but his genius sunk before the genius of
Falkland. He left his vengeance to the disposal of
circumstances. He was secure that his animosity would
never be forgotten nor diminished by the interposition
of any time or events. Vengeance was his nightly
dream, and the uppermost of his waking thoughts.
Mr. Falkland had departed from this conference
with a confirmed disapprobation of the conduct of his
neighbour, and an unalterable resolution to do every
thing in his power to relieve the distresses of Hawkins.
But he was too late. When he arrived, he found the
house already evacuated by its master. The family
was removed nobody knew whither ; Hawkins had ab-
sconded, and, what was still more extraordinary, the
boy Hawkins had escaped on the very same day from
the county gaol. The enquiries Mr. Falkland set on
foot after them were fruitless ; no traces could be
found of the catastrophe of these unhappy people.
That catastrophe I shall shortly have occasion to
relate, and it will be found pregnant with horror, be-
108 CALEB WILLIAMS.
yond what the blackest misanthropy could readily have
suggested.
I go on with my tale. I go on to relate those in-
cidents in which my own fate was so mysteriously
involved. I lift the curtain, and bring forward the last
act of the tragedy.
CHAPTER X.
IT may easily be supposed, that the ill temper che-
rished by Mr. Tyrrel in his contention with Haw-
kins, and the increasing animosity between him and
Mr. Falkland, added to the impatience with which
he thought of the escape of Emily.
Mr. Tyrrel heard with astonishment of the miscarriage
of an expedient, of the success of which he had not pre-
viously entertained the slightest suspicion. He became
frantic with vexation. Grimes had not dared to signify
the event of his expedition in person, and the footman
whom he desired to announce to his master that Miss
Melville was lost, the moment after fled from his pre-
sence with the most dreadful apprehensions. Presently
he bellowed for Grimes, and the young man at last
appeared before him, more dead than alive. Grimes
he compelled to repeat the particulars of the tale ;
which he had no sooner done, than he once again
slunk away, shocked at the execrations with which Mr.
Tyrrel overwhelmed him. Grimes was no coward ;
but he reverenced the inborn divinity that attends upon
rank, as Indians worship the devil. Nor was this all.
The rage of Mr. Tyrrel was so ungovernable and fierce,
that few hearts could have been found so stout, as not
: CALEB WILLIAMS. 109
to have trembled before it with a sort of unconquerable
inferiority.
He no sooner obtained a moment's pause than he
began to recall to his tempestuous mind the various
circumstances of the case. His complaints were bitter;
and, in a tranquil observer, might have produced the
united feeling of pity for his sufferings, and horror at
his depravity. He recollected all the precautions he
had used ; he could scarcely find a flaw in the process;
and he cursed that blind and malicious power which
delighted to cross his most deep-laid schemes. " Of
this malice he was beyond all other human beings the
object. He was mocked with the shadow of power;
and when he lifted his hand to smite, it was struck
with sudden palsy. [In the bitterness of his anguish,
he forgot his recent triumph over Hawkins, or perhaps
he regarded it less as a triumph, than an overthrow,
because it had failed of coming up to the extent of
his malice.] To what purpose had Heaven given him
a feeling of injury, and an instinct to resent, while he
could in no case make his resentment felt ! It was only
necessary for him to be the enemy of any person, to
insure that person's being safe against the reach of
misfortune. What insults, the most shocking and re-
peated, had he received from this paltry girl ! And by
whom was she now torn from his indignation? By that
devil that haunted him at every moment, that crossed
him at every step, that fixed at pleasure his arrows in his
heart, and made mows and mockery at his insufferable
tortures."
There was one other reflection that increased his
anguish, and made him careless and desperate as to his
future conduct. It wa« in vain to conceal from himself
that his reputation would be cruelly wounded by this
event. He had imagined that, while Emily was forced
110 CALEB WILLIAMS.
into this odious marriage, she would be obliged by de-
corum, as soon as the event was decided, to draw a
veil over the compulsion she had suffered. But this
security was now lost, and Mr. Falkland would take a
pride in publishing his dishonour. Though the pro-
vocations he had received from Miss Melville would, in
his own opinion, have justified him in any treatment
he should have thought proper to inflict, he was sensi-
ble the world would see the matter in a different light.
This reflection augmented the violence of his resolu-
tions, and determined him to refuse no means by which
he could transfer the anguish that now preyed upon
his own mind to that of another.
Meanwhile, the composure and magnanimity of Emily
had considerably subsided, the moment she believed
herself in a place of safety. While danger and injustice
assailed her with their menaces, she found in herself a
courage that disdained to yield. The succeeding ap-
pearance of calm was more fatal to her. There was
nothing now, powerfully to foster her courage or excite
her energy. She looked back at the trials she had passed,
and her soul sicknened at the recollection of that,
which, while it was in act, she had had the fortitude
to endure. Till the period at which Mr. Tyrrel had
been inspired with this cruel antipathy, she had been
in all instances a stranger to anxiety and fear. Uninured
to misfortune, she had suddenly and without prepar-
ation been made the subject of the most infernal malig-
nity. When a man of robust and vigorous constitution
has a fit of sickness, it produces a more powerful effect,
than the same indisposition upon a delicate valetudi-
narian. Such was the case with Miss Melville. She
passed the succeeding night sleepless and uneasy, and
was found in the morning with a high fever. Her dis-
temper resisted for the present all attempts to assuage
CALEB WILLIAMS. Ill
it, though there was reason to hope that the goodness
of her constitution, assisted by tranquillity and the
kindness of those about her, would ultimately surmount
it. On the second day she was delirious. On the night
of that day she was arrested at the suit of Mr. Tyrrel,
for a debt contracted for board and necessaries for the
last fourteen years.
The idea of this arrest, as the reader will perhaps
recollect, first occurred, in the conversation between
Mr. Tyrrel and Miss Melville, soon after he had thought
proper to confine her to her chamber. But at that time
he had probably no serious conception of ever being
induced to carry it into execution. It had merely been
mentioned by way of threat, and as the suggestion of
a mind, whose habits had long been accustomed to
contemplate every possible instrument of tyranny and
revenge. But now, that the unlooked-for rescue and
H»po of his poor kinswoman had wrought up his
thoughts to a degree of insanity, and that he revolved
in the gloomy recesses of his mind, how he might best
shake off the load of disappointment which oppressed
him, the idea recurred with double force. He was not
long in forming his resolution ; and, calling for Barnes
his steward, immediately gave him directions in what
manner to proceed.
Barnes had been for several years the instrument of
Mr. Tyrrel's injustice. His mind was hardened by use,
and he could, without remorse, officiate as the spectator,
or even as the author and director, of a scene of vulgar
distress. But even he was somewhat startled upon the
present occasion. The character and conduct of Emily
in Mr. Tyrrel's family had been without a blot She
had not a single enemy ; and it was impossible to con-
template her youth, her vivacity, and her guileless
112 CALEB WILLIAMS.
innocence, without emotions of sympathy and compas-
sion.
" Your worship ? — I do not understand you ! — Ar-
rest Miss — Miss Emily ! "
« Yes, — I tell you ! —What is the matter with you ?
— Go instantly to Swineard, the lawyer, and bid him
finish the business out of hand ! "
" Lord love your honour ! Arrest her ! Why she does
not owe you a brass farthing : she always lived upon
your charity ! "
" Ass ! Scoundrel ! I tell you she does owe me, —
owes me eleven hundred pounds. — The law justifies
it. — What do you think laws were made for ? I do
nothing but right, and right I will have."
" Your honour, I never questioned your orders in my
life ; but I must now. I cannot see you ruin Miss Emily,
poor girl ! nay, and yourself too, for the matter of that,
and not say which way you are going. I hope you will
bear with me. Why, if she owed you ever so much, she
cannot be arrested. She is not of age."
" Will you have done ? — Do not tell me of — It
cannot, and It can. It has been done before, — and it
shall be done again. Let him dispute it that dares ! I
will do it now and stand to it afterwards. Tell Swineard,
— if he make the least boggling, it is as much as his life
is worth ; — he shall starve by inches."
" Pray, your honour, think better of it. Upon my
life, the whole country will cry shame of it."
" Barnes ! What do you mean ? I am not used
to be talked to, and I cannot bear it ! You have been
a good fellow to me upon many occasions But, if I
find you out for making one with them that dispute my
authority, damn my soul, if I do not make you sick of
your life ! "
" I have done, your honour. I will not say another
CALEB WILLIAMS. 113
word except this, — I have heard as how that Miss Emily
is sick a-bed. You are determined, you say. to put her
in jail. You do not mean to kill her, I take it."
" Let her die ! I will not spare her for an hour I
will not always be insulted. She had no consideration
for me, and I have no mercy for her. — I am in for it !
They have provoked me past bearing, — and they sliall
feel me ! Tell Swiueard, in bed or up, day or night, I
will not hear of an instant's delay."
Such were the directions of Mr. Tyrrel, and in strict
conformity to his directions were the proceedings of
that respectable limb of the Jaw he employed upon the
present occasion. Miss Melville had been delirious,
through a considerable part of the day on the evening of
which the bailiff and his follower arrived. By the direc-
tion of the physician whom Mr. Falkland had ordered to
attend her, a composing draught was Administered ; and,
exhausted as she was by the wild and distracted images
that for several hours had haunted her fancy, she was
now sunk into a refreshing slumber. Mrs. Hammond,
the sister of Mr-. .lakeman, was sitting by her bed-side,
full of compassion for the lovely sufferer, and rejoicing
in the calm tranquillity that had just taken possession
of her, when a little girl, the only child of Mrs. Ham-
mond, opened the street-door to the rap of the bailiff.
He said he wanted to speak with Miss Melville, and the
child answered that she would go tell her mother. So
saying, she advanced to the door of the back-room upon
the ground-floor, in which Emily lay ; but the moment
it was opened, instead of waiting for the appearance of
the mother, the bailiff entered along with the girl.
Mrs. Hammond looked up. u Who are you?" said
she. •' Why do you come in here? Hush ! be quiet! '
" I must speak with Miss Melville."
" Indeed, but you must not. Tell me your business.
i
CALEB WILLIAMS.
The poor child has been light-headed all day. She
has just fallen asleep, and must not be disturbed."
" That is no business of mine. I must obey orders."
" Orders? Whose orders? What is it you mean?"
At this moment Emily opened her eyes. "What
noise is that ? Pray let me be quiet."
" Miss, I want to speak with you. I have got a writ
against you for eleven hundred pounds at the suit of
squire Tyrrel."
At these words both Mrs. Hammond and Emily
were dumb. The latter was scarcely able to annex
any meaning to the intelligence; and, though Mrs.
Hammond was somewhat better acquainted with the
sort of language that was employed, yet in this strange
and unexpected connection it was almost as mysterious
to her as to poor Emily herself.
" A writ? How can she be in Mr. Tyrrel's debt?
A writ against a child ! "
" It is no signification putting your questions to us.
We only do as we are directed. There is our authority.
Look at it."
" Lord Almighty ! " exclaimed Mrs. Hammond,
" what does this mean ? It is impossible Mr. Tyrrel
should have sent you."
" Good woman, none of your jabber to us ! Cannot
you read ? "
" This is all a trick ! The paper is forged ! It is a
vile contrivance to get the poor orphan out of the hands
of those with whom only she can be safe. Proceed
upon it at your peril ! "
" Rest you content ; that is exactly what we mean
to do. Take my word, we know very well what we are
about."
" Why, you would not tear her from her bed ? I tell
you, she is in a high fever ; she is light-headed ; it would
CALEB WILLIAMS. 115
be death to remove her ! You are bailiffs, are not you ?
You are not murderers?"
" The law says nothing about that We have orders
to take her sick or well. We will do her no harm ;
lAcvpt so far as we must perform our office, be it how
it will."
" Where would you take her ? What is it you mean
to do?"
" To the county jail. Bullock, go, order a post-chaise
from the griffin ! "
" Stay, I say ! Give no such orders ! Wait only
three hours ; I will send off a messenger express to
squire Falkland, and I am sure he will satisfy you as
to any harm that can come to you, without its being
necessary to take the poor child to jail."
" We have particular directions against that. We
are not at liberty to lose a minute. Why are not you
gone? Order the horses to be put to immediately ! "
Emily had listened to the course of this conversation,
which had sufficiently explained to her whatever was
enigmatical in the first appearance of the bailiffs. The
painful and incredible reality that was thus presented
effectually dissipated the illusions bf frenzy to which
she had just been a prey. " My dear Madam," said
she to Mrs. Hammond, " do not harass yourself with
useless efforts. I am very sorry for all the trouble I
have given you. But my misfortune is inevitable. Sir,
if you will step into the next room, I will dress myself,
and attend you immediately."
Mrs. Hammond began to be equally aware that her
struggles were to no purpose; but she could not be
equally patient. At one moment she raved upon the
brutality of Mr. Tyrrel, whom she affirmed to be a devil
incarnate, and not a man. At another she expostulated,
with bitter invective, against the hardheartedness of
i 2
11$ CALEB WILLIAMS.
the bailiff, and exhorted him to mix some humanity
and moderation with the discharge of his function ; but
he was impenetrable to all she could urge. In the mean
while Emily yielded with the sweetest resignation to
an inevitable evil. Mrs. Hammond insisted that, at
least, they should permit her to attend her young lady
in the chaise ; and the bailiff, though the orders he had
received were so peremptory that he dared not exercise
his discretion as to the execution of the writ, began to
have some apprehensions of danger, and wasAvilling to
admit of any precaution that was not in direct hostility
to his functions. For the rest he understood, that it
was in all cases dangerous to allow sickness, or apparent
unfitness for removal, as a sufficient cause to interrupt
a direct process ; and that, accordingly, in all doubtful
questions and presumptive murders, the practice of the
law inclined, with a laudable partiality, to the vindication
of its own officers. In addition to these general rules,
he was influenced by the positive injunctions and as-
surances of Swineard, and the terror which, through a
circle of many miles, was annexed to the name of
Tyrrel. Before they departed, Mrs. Hammond des-
patched a messenger with a letter of three lines to
Mr. Falkland, informing him of this extraordinary
event. Mr. Falkland was from home when the mes-
senger arrived, and not expected to return till the
second day ; accident seemed in this instance to
favour the vengeance of Mr. Tyrrel, for he had him-
self been too much under the dominion of an uncon-
trollable fury, to take a circumstance of this sort into
his estimate.
The forlorn state of these poor women, who were
conducted, the one by compulsion, the other a volun-
teer, to a scene so little adapted to their accommo-
dation as that of a common jail, may easily be imagined.
CALEB WILLIAMS.
117
Mr-. Hammond, however, was endowed with a mascu-
line courage and impetuosity of spirit, eminently ne-
cessary in the difficulties they had to encounter. She
was in some degree fitted by a sanguine temper, and
an impassioned sense of injustice, for the discharge of
those very offices which sobriety and calm reflection
might have prescribed. The health of Miss Melville
was materially affected by the surprise and removal she
had undergone at the very time that repose was most
necessary for her preservation. Her fever became more
violent; her delirium was stronger; and the tortures
of her imagination were proportioned to the unfavour-
ableness of the state in which the removal had been
effected. It was highly improbable that she could
recover.
In the moments of suspended reason she was perpetually
calling on the name of Falkland. Mr. Falkland, she said,
was her first and only love, and he should be her husband.
A moment after she exclaimed upon him in a -discon-
solate, yet reproachful tone, for his unworthy deference
to the prejudices of the world. It was very cruel of
him to show himself so proud, and tell her that he
would never consent to marry a beggar. But, if he
were proud, she was determined to be proud too. He
should see that she would not conduct herself like a
slighted maiden, and that, though he could reject
her, it was not in his power to break her heart. At
another time she imagined she saw Mr. Tyrrel and
his engine Grimes, their hands and garments dropping
with blood ; and the pathetic reproaches she vented
against them might have affected a heart of stone. Then
the figure of Falkland presented itself to her distracted
fancy, deformed with wounds, and of a deadly palenesa,
and she shrieked with agony, while she exclaimed that
such was the general hardheartedncss, that no one
I 3
118 CALEB WILLIAMS.
would make the smallest exertion for his rescue. In
such vicissitudes of pain, perpetually imagining to her-
self unkindness, insult, conspiracy, and murder, she
passed a considerable part of two days.
On the evening of the second Mr. Falkland arrived,
accompanied by Doctor Wilson, the physician by whom
she had previously been attended. The scene he was
called upon to witness was such as to be most exqui-
sitely agonising to a man of his acute sensibility. The
news of the arrest had given him an inexpressible shock ;
he was transported out of himself at the unexampled
malignity of its author. But, when he saw the figure
of Miss Melville, haggard, and a warrant of death writ-
ten in her countenance, a victim to the diabolfcal pas-
sions of her kinsman, it seemed too much to be endured.
When he entered, she was in the midst of one of her
fits of delirium, and immediately mistook her visitors
for two assassins. She asked, where they had hid her
Falkland, her lord, her life, her husband ! and demanded
that they should restore to her his mangled corpse, that
she might embrace him with her dying arms, breathe
her last upon his lips, and be buried in the same grave.
She reproached them with the sordidness of their con-
duct in becoming the tools of her vile cousin, who had
deprived her of her reason, and would never be con-
tented till he had murdered her. Mr. Falkland tore
himself away from this painful scene, and, leaving Doctor
Wilson with his patient, desired him, when he had
given the necessary directions, to follow him to his
inn.
The perpetual hurry of spirits in which Miss Melville
had been kept for several days, by the nature of her in-
disposition, was extremely exhausting to her ; and, in
about an hour from the visit of Mr. Falkland, her
delirium subsided, and left her in so low a state as to
CALEB WILLIAMS. 119
render it difficult to perceive any signs of life. Doctor
Wilson, who had withdrawn, to soothe, if possible, the
disturbed and impatient thoughts of Mr. Falkland, was
summoned afresh upon this change of symptoms,
and sat by the bed-side during the remainder of the
night. The situation of his patient was such, as to
keep him in momentary apprehension of her decease.
While Miss Melville lay in this feeble and exhausted
condition, Mrs. Hammond betrayed every token of the
tenderest anxiety. Her sensibility was habitually of
the acutest sort, and the qualities of Emily were such
as powerfully to fix her affection. She loved her like a
mother. Upon the present occasion, every sound,
every motion, made her tremble. Doctor Wilson had
introduced another nurse, in consideration of the in-
cessant fatigue Mrs. Hammond had undergone; and
he endeavoured, by representations, and even by autho-
rity, to compel her to quit the apartment of the patient.
But she was uncontrollable ; and he at length found
that he should probably do her more injury, by the
violence that would be necessary to separate her from
the suffering innocent, than by allowing her to follow
her inclination. Her eye was a thousand times turned,
with the most eager curiosity, upon the countenance of
Doctor Wilson, without her daring to breathe a question
respecting his opinion, lest he should answer her by a
communication of the most fatal tidings. In the mean
time she listened with the deepest attention to every
thing that dropped either from the physician or the
nurse, hoping to collect as it were from some oblique
hint, the intelligence which she had not courage ex-
pressly to require.
Towards morning the state of the patient seemed to
take a favourable turn. She dozed for near two hours,
and, when she awoke, appeared perfectly calm and
I 4
120 CALEB WILLIAMS.
sensible. Understanding that Mr. Falkland had brought
the physician to attend her, and was himself in her
neighbourhood, she requested to see him. Mr. Falk-
land had gone in the mean time, with one of his tenants,
to bail the debt, and now entered the prison to enquire
whether the young lady might be safely removed, from
her present miserable residence, to a more airy and
commodious apartment. When he appeared, the sight
of him revived in the mind of Miss Melville an imper-
fect recollection of the wanderings of her delirium. She
covered her face with her fingers, and betrayed the
most expressive confusion, while she thanked him, with
her usual unaffected simplicity, for the trouble he had
taken. She hoped she should not give him much more ;
she thought she should get better. It was a shame,
she said, if a young and lively girl, as she was, could
not contrive to outlive the trifling misfortunes to which
she had been subjected. But, while she said this, she
was still extremely weak. She tried to assume a cheerful
countenance ; but it was a faint effort, which the feeble
state of her frame did not seem sufficient to support.
Mr. Falkland and the doctor joined to request her to
keep herself quiet, and avoid for the present all occa-
sions of exertion.
Encouraged by these appearances, Mrs. Hammond
ventured to follow the two gentlemen out of the room, in
order to learn from the physician what hopes he enter-
tained. Doctor Wilson acknowledged, that he found his
patient at first in a very unfavourable situation, that the
symptoms were changed for the .better, and that he was
not without some expectation of her recovery. He
added, however, that he could answer for nothing, that
the next twelve hours would be exceedingly critical,
but that if she did not grow worse before morning, he
would then undertake fq? her life. Mrs. Hammond, who
CALEB WILLIAMS. 121
had hitherto seen nothing butdespair, now became frantic
with joy. She burst into tears of transport, blessed the
phy.-irian in the most emphatic and impassioned terms,
and uttered a thousand extravagancies. Doctor Wilson
seized this opportunity to press her to give herself a
little repose, to which she consented, a bed being first
procured for her in the room next to Miss Melville's,
she having charged the nurse to give her notice of any
alteration in the state of the patient.
Mrs. Hammond enjoyed an uninterrupted sleep of se-
veral hours. It was already night, when she was awaked
by an unusual bustle in the next room. She listened for
a few moments, and then determined to go and discover
the occasion of it. As she opened her door for that
purpose, she met the nurse coming to her. The coun-
tenance of the messenger told her what it was she had
to communicate, without the use of words. She hurried
to the bed-side, and found Miss Melville expiring. The
appearances tliat had at first been so encouraging were
of short duration. The calm of the morning proved to
be only a sort of lightening before death. In a few
hours the patient grew worse. The bloom of her coun-
tenance faded ; she drew her breath with difficulty ; and
her eyes became fixed. Doctor Wilson came in at this
period, and immediately perceived that all was over.
She was for some time in convulsions ; but, these sub-
siding, she addressed the physician with a composed,
though feeble voice. She thanked him for his attention ;
and expressed the most lively sense of her obligations to
Mr. Falkland. She sincerely forgave her cousin, and
hoped he might never be visited by too acute a re-
collection of his barbarity to her. She would have
been contented to live. Few persons had a sincerer
relish of the pleasures of life ; but she was well pleased
to die, rather than have become the wife of Grimes.
122 CALEB WILLIAMS.
As Mrs. Hammond entered, she turned her countenance
towards her, and with an affectionate expression re-
peated her name. This was her last word ; in less than
two hours from that time she breathed her last in the
arms of this faithful friend.
CHAPTER XI.
SUCH was the fate of Miss Emily Melville. Perhaps
tyranny never exhibited a more painful memorial of
the detestation in which it deserves to be held. The
idea irresistibly excited in every spectator of the scene,
was that of regarding Mr. Tyrrel as the most diabolical
wretch that had ever dishonoured the human form. The
very attendants upon this house of oppression, for the
scene was acted upon too public a stage not to be gene-
rally understood, expressed their astonishment and dis-
gust at his unparalleled cruelty.
If such were the feelings of men bred to the commis-
sion of injustice, it is difficult to say what must have been
those of Mr. Falkland. He raved, he swore, he beat his
head, he rent up his hair. He was unable to continue
in one posture, and to remain in one place. He burst
away from the spot with vehemence, as if he sought to
leave behind him his recollection and his existence.
He seemed to tear up the ground with fierceness and
rage. He returned soon again. He approached the
sad remains of what had been Emily, and gazed on them
with such intentness, that his eyes appeared ready to
burst from their sockets. Acute and exquisite as were
his notions of virtue and honour, he could not prevent
himself from reproaching the system of nature, for
having given birth to such a monster as Tyrrel. He
was ashamed of himself for wearing the same form.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 123
He could not think of the human species with pa-
tience. He foamed with indignation against the laws
of the universe, that did not permit him to crush
such reptiles at a blow, as we would crush so many
noxious insects. It was necessary to guard him like
a madman.
The whole office of judging what was proper to be
done under the present circumstances devolved upon
Doctor Wilson. The doctor was a man of cool and
methodical habits of acting. One of the first ideas
that suggested itself to him was, that Miss Mellvile
was a branch of the family of Tyrrel. He did not
doubt of the willingness of Mr. Falkland to discharge
every expense that might be further incident to the
melancholy remains of this unfortunate victim ; but
he conceived that the laws of fashion and decorum
required some notification of the event to be made
to the head of the family. Perhaps, too, he had an
eye to his interest in his profession, and was reluctant
to expose himself to the resentment of a person of
Mr. Tyrrel's consideration in the neighbourhood. But,
with this weakness, he had nevertheless some feelings
in common with the rest of the world, and must have
suffered considerable violence, before he could have
persuaded himself to be the messenger ; beside which,
he did not think it right in the present situation to leave
Mr. Falkland.
Doctor Wilson no sooner mentioned these ideas, than
they seemed to make a sudden impression on Mrs. Ham-
mond, and she earnestly requested that she might be
permitted to carry the intelligence. The proposal was
unexpected ; but the doctor did not very obstinately re-
fuse his assent. She was determined, she said, to see
what sort of impression the catastrophe would make
upon the author of it ; and she promised to comport
124* CALEB WILLIAMS.
herself with moderation and civility. The journey was
soon performed.
" I am come, sir," said she to Mr. Tyrrel, " to inform
you that your cousin, Miss Melville, died this afternoon."
"Died?"
" Yes, sir. I saw her die. She died in these arms."
" Died ? Who killed her ? What do you mean ? "
" WTho ? Is it for you to ask that question ? Your
cruelty and malice killed her !"
" Me ? — my ? — Poh ! she is not dead — it cannot
be — it is not a week since she left this house."
" Do not you believe me ? I say she is dead ! "
" Have a care, woman ! this is no matter for jesting.
No : though she used me ill, I would not believe her dead
for all the world ! "
Mrs. Hammond shook her head in a manner expres-
sive at once of grief and indignation.
" No, no, no, no ! I will never believe that ! — No,
never ! "
" Will you come with me, and convince your eyes ?
It is a sight worthy of you ; and will be a feast to such
a heart as yours ! " — Saying this, Mrs. Hammond of-
fered her hand, as if to conduct him to the spot.
Mr. Tyrrel shrunk back.
" If she be dead, what is that to me ? Am I to an-
swer for every thing that goes wrong in the world ? —
What do you come here for ? Why bring your messages
to me ? "
" To whom should I bring them but to her kinsman,
— and her murderer."
" Murderer ? — Did I employ knives or pistols ?
Did I give her poison ? I did nothing but what the law
allows. If she be dead, nobody can say that I am to
blame ! "
" To blame ? — All the world will abhor and curse
CALEB WILLIAM?. 125
you. Were you such a fool as to think, because men
pay respect to wealth and rank, this would extend to
such a deed ? They will laugh at so barefaced a cheat.
Tlu- meanest beggar will spurn and spit at you. Ay,
you may well stand confounded at what you have
done. I will proclaim you to the whole world, and
you will be obliged to fly the very face of a human
creature ! "
" Good woman," said Mr. Tyrrel, extremely hum-
bled, •• talk no more in this strain ! — Emmy is not
dead ! I am sure — I hope — she is not dead ! —
— Tell me that you have only been deceiving me, and
I will forgive you every thing — I will forgive her — I
will take her into favour — I will do any thing you
please ! — I never meant her any harm ! "
" I tell you she is dead ! You have murdered the
sweetest innocent that lived ! Can you bring her back
to life, as you have driven her out of it? If you could,
I would kneel to you twenty times a day ! What is it
you have done? — Miserable wretch! did you think
you could do and undo, and change things this way and
that, as you pleased ? "
The reproaches of Mrs. Hammond were the first in-
stance in which Mr. Tynrel was made to drink the full
cup of retribution. This was, however, only a specimen
of a long series of contempt, abhorrence, and insult, that
was reserved for him. The words of Mrs. Hammond
were prophetic. It evidently appeared, that though
wealth and hereditary elevation operate as an apology
for many delinquencies, there are some which so irre-
sistibly address themselves to the indignation of man-
kind, that, like death, they level all distinctions, and
reduce their perpetrator to an equality with the most
indigent and squalid of his species. Against Mr. Tyr-
rel, as the tyrannical and unmanly murderer of Emily,
126 CALEB WILLIAMS.
those who dared not venture the unreserved avowal of
their sentiments muttered curses, deep, not loud ;
while the rest joined in an universal cry of abhorrence
and execration. He stood astonished at the novelty of
his situation. Accustomed as he had been to the obe-
dience and trembling homage of mankind, he had
imagined they would be perpetual, and that no excess
on his part would ever be potent enough to break the
enchantment. Now he looked round, and saw sullen
detestation in every face, which with difficulty restrained
itself, and upon the slightest provocation broke forth
with an impetuous tide, and swept away the mounds of
subordination and fear. His large estate could not
purchase civility from the gentry, the peasantry, scarcely
from his own servants. In the indignation of all around
him he found a ghost that haunted him with every
change of place, and a remorse that stung his con-
science, and exterminated his peace. The neighbourhood
appeared more and more every day to be growing too
hot for him to endure, and it became evident that he
would ultimately be obliged to quit the country. Urged
by the flagitiousness of this last example, people learned
to recollect every other instance of his excesses, and it
was, no doubt, a fearful catalogue that rose up in
judgment against him. It seemed as if the sense of
public resentment had long been gathering strength
unperceived, and now burst forth into insuppressible
violence.
There was scarcely a human being upon whom this
sort of retribution could have sat more painfully than
upon Mr. Tyrrel. Though he had not a consciousness
of innocence prompting him continually to recoil from
the detestation of mankind as a thing totally unallied
to his character, yet the imperiousness of his temper
and the constant experience he had had of the pliabi-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 127
lity of other men, prepared him to feel the general and
undisguised condemnation into which he was sunk with
uncommon emotions of anger and impatience. That
he, at the beam of whose eye every countenance fell,
and to whom in the fierceness of his wrath no one was
daring enough to reply, should now be regarded with
avowed dislike, and treated with unceremonious censure,
was a thing he could not endure to recollect or believe.
Symptoms of the universal disgust smote him at every
instant, and at every blow he writhed with intolerable
anguish. His rage was unbounded and raving. He re-
pelled every attack with the fiercest indignation ; while
the more he struggled, the more desperate his situation
appeared to become. At length he determined to col-
lect his strength for a decisive effort, and to meet the
whole tide of public opinion in a single scene.
In pursuance of these thoughts he resolved to repair,
without delay, to the rural assembly which I have
already mentioned in the course of my story. Miss
Melville had now been dead one month. Mr. Falkland
had been absent the last week in a distant part of the
country, and was not expected to return for a week
longer. Mr. Tyrrel willingly embraced the opportunity,
trusting, if he could now effect his re-establishment, that
he should easily preserve the ground he had gained,
even in the face of his formidable rival. Mr. Tyrrel
was not deficient in courage; but he conceived the
present to be too important an epoch in his life to
allow him to make any unnecessary risk in his chance
for future ease and importance.
There was a sort of bustle that took place at his en-
trance into the assembly, it having been agreed by the
gentlemen of the assembly, that Mr. Tyrrel was to be
refused admittance, as a person with whom they did
not choose to associate. This vote had already been
128 CALEB WILLIAMS.
notified to him by letter by the master of the cere-
monies, but the intelligence was rather calculated, with
a man of Mr. Tyrrel's disposition, to excite defiance
than to overawe. At the door of the assembly he was
personally met by the master of the ceremonies, who had
perceived the arrival of an equipage, and who now en-
deavoured to repeat his prohibition : but he was thrust
aside by Mr. Tyrrel with an air of native authority and
ineffable contempt. As he entered, every eye was turned
upon him. Presently all the gentlemen in the room
assembled round him. Some endeavoured to hustle
him, and others began to expostulate. But he found
the secret effectually to silence the one set, and to
shake off the other. His muscular form, the well-known
eminence of his intellectual powers, the long habits to
which every man was formed of acknowledging his
ascendancy, were all in his favour. He considered
himself as playing a desperate stake, and had roused all
the energies he possessed, to enable him to do justice
to so interesting a transaction. Disengaged from the
insects that at first pestered him, he paced up and down
the room with a magisterial stride, and flashed an angry
glance on every side. He then broke silence. " If any
one had any thing to say to him, he should know where
and how to answer him. He would advise any such
person, however, to consider well what he was about-
If any man imagined he had any thing personally to
complain of, it was very well. But he did expect that
nobody there would be ignorant and raw enough to
meddle with what was no business of theirs, and intrude
into the concerns of any man's private family."
This being a sort of defiance, one and another gentle-
man advanced to answer it. He that was first began to
speak ; but Mr. Tyrrel, by the expression of his coun-
tenance and a peremptory tone, by well-timed interrup-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 129
tions and pertinent insinuations, caused him first to
hesitate, and then to be silent. He seemed to be fast
advancing to the triumph he had promised himself.
Tin- whole company were astonished. They felt the
same abhorrence and condemnation of his character ;
but they could not help admiring the courage and re-
sources he displayed upon the present occasion. They
could without difficulty have concentred afresh their
indignant feelings, but they seemed to want a leader.
At this critical moment Mr. Falkland entered the
room. Mere accident had enabled him to return sooner
than he expected.
Both he and Mr. TV ml reddened at sight of each
other. He advanced towards Mr. Tyrrel without a
moment's pause, and in a peremptory voice asked him
what he did there ?
" Here ? What do you mean by that ? This place is
as free to me as you, and you are the last person to
whom I shall deign to give an account of myself."
•• Sir, the place is not free to you. Do not you
know, you have been voted out ? Whatever were your
rights, your infamous conduct has forfeited them."
" Mr. what do you call yourself, if you have any
thing to say to me, choose a proper time and place.
Do not think to put on your bullying airs under shelter
of this company ! I will not endure it."
" You are mistaken, sir. This public scene is the
only place where I can have any thing to say to you*
If you would not hear the universal indignation of
mankind, you must not come into the society of men*
— Miss Melville! — Shame upon you, inhuman, unre-
lenting tyrant ! Can you hear her name, and not sink
into the earth? Can you retire into solitude, and not
see her pale and patient ghost rising to reproach you ?
Can you recollect her virtues, her innocence, her spot-
ISO CALEB WILLIAMS.
less manners, her unresentful temper, and not run dis-
tracted with remorse ? Have you not killed her in the
first bloom of her youth ? Can you bear to think that
she now lies mouldering in the grave through your
cursed contrivance, that deserved a crown, ten thousand
times more than you deserve to live ? And do you exr
pect that mankind will ever forget, or forgive such
a deed? Go, miserable wretch ; think yourself too
happy that you are permitted to fly the face of man !
Why, what a pitiful figure do you make at this moment !
Do you think that any thing could bring so hardened a
wretch as you are to shrink from reproach, if your
conscience were not in confederacy with them that re-
proached you ? And were you fool enough to believe
that any obstinacy, however determined, could enable
you to despise the keen rebuke of justice? Go, shrink
into your miserable self! Begone, and let me never be
blasted with your sight again ! "
And here, incredible as it may appear, Mr. Tyrrel began
to obey his imperious censurer. His looks were full of
wildness and horror; his limbs trembled; and his tongue
refused its office. He felt no power of resisting the
impetuous torrent of reproach that was poured upon
him. He hesitated; he was ashamed of his own defeat;
he seemed to wish to deny it. But his struggles were
ineffectual ; every attempt perished in the moment it
was made. The general voice was eager to abash him.
As his confusion became more visible, the outcry in-
creased. It swelled gradually to hootings, tumult, and a
deafening noise of indignation. At length he willingly
retired from the public scene, unable any longer to en-
dure the sensations it inflicted.
In about an hour and a half he returned. No pre-
caution had been taken against this incident, for nothing
could be more unexpected. In the interval he had
CALEB WILLIAMS. 131
intoxicated himself with large draughts of brandy. In
a moment he was in a part of the room where Mr.
Falkland was standing, and with one blow of his mus-
cular arm levelled him with the earth. The blow how-
ever was not stunning, and Mr. Falkland rose again
immediately. It is obvious to perceive how unequal he
must have been in this tp^rict of contest. He wa)
scarcely risen, before Mr. Tyrrel repeated his blow.
Mr. Falkland was now upon his guard, and did not fall.
But the blows of his adversary were redoubled with a
rapidity difficult to conceive, and Mr. Falkland was once
again brought to the earth. In this situation Mr. Tyrrel
kicked his prostrate enemy, and stooped apparently with
the intention of dragging him along the floor. All this
passed in a moment, and the gentlemen present had not
time to recover their surprise. They now interfered,
and Mr. Tyrrel once more quitted the apartment.
It is difficult to conceive any event more terrible to
the individual upon whom it fell, than the treatment
which Mr. Falkland in this instance experienced. Every
passion of his life was calculated to make him feel it
more acutely. He had repeatedly exerted an uncom-
mon energy and prudence, to prevent the misunder-
standing between Mr. Tyrrel and himself from proceed-
ing to extremities ; but in vain ! It was closed with a
catastrophe, exceeding all that he had feared, or that
the most penetrating foresight could have suggested.
To Mr. Falkland disgrace was worse than death. The
slightest breath of dishonour would have stung him to
the very soul. What must it have been with this com-
plication of ignominy, base, humiliating, and public ?
Could Mr. Tyrrel have understood the evil he inflicted,
even he, under all his circumstances of provocation,
could scarcely have perpetrated it. Mr. Falkland's
mind was full of uproar like the war of contending
K 2
132 CALEB WILLIAMS.
elements, and of such suffering as casts contempt on the
refinements of inventive cruelty. He wished for anni-
hilation, to lie down in eternal oblivion, in an insensi-
bility, which, compared with what he experienced, was
scarcely less enviable than beatitude itself. Horror,
detestation, revenge, inexpressible longings to shake off
the evil, and a persuasion that in this case all effort was
powerless, filled his soul even to bursting.
One other event closed the transactions of this me-
.vmorable evening. Mr. Falkland was baffled of the
vengeance that yet remained to him. Mr. Tyrrel was
found by some of the company dead in the street, having
been murdered at the distance of a few yards from the
assembly house.
CHAPTER XII.
I SHALL endeavour to state the remainder of this nar-
rative in the words of Mr. Collins. The reader has
already had occasion to perceive that Mr. Collins was
a man of no vulgar order ; and his reflections on the
subject were uncommonly judicious.
" This day was the crisis of Mr. Falkland's history.
From hence took its beginning that gloomy and un-
sociable melancholy, of which he has since been the
victim. No two characters can be in certain respects
more strongly contrasted, than the Mr. Falkland of a
date prior and subsequent to these events. Hitherto
he had been attended by a fortune perpetually pros-
perous. His mind was sanguine ; full of that undoubt-
ing confidence in its own powers which prosperity is
qualified to produce. Though the habits of his life
were those of a serious and sublime visionary, they
CALEB WILLIAMS. 133
were nevertheless full of cheerfulness and tranquillity.
But from this moment, his pride, and the lofty adven-
turousness of his spirit, were effectually subdued. From
an object of envy he was changed into an object of
compassion. Life, which hitherto no one had more
exquisitely enjoyed, became a burden to him. No
more self-complacency, no more rapture, no more self-
approving and heart-transporting benevolence ! He
who had lived beyond any man upon the grand and
animating reveries of the imagination, seemed now to
have no visions but of anguish and despair. His case
was peculiarly worthy of sympathy, since, no doubt,
if rectitude and purity of disposition could give a title
to happiness, few men could exhibit a more consistent
and powerful claim than Mr. Falkland.
" He was too deeply pervaded with the idle and
groundless romances of chivalry, ever to forget the
situation, humiliating and dishonourable according to
his ideas, in which he had been placed upon this oc-
casion. There is a mysterious sort of divinity annexed
to the person of a true knight, that makes any species
of brute violence committed upon it indelible and im-
mortal. To be knocked down, cuffed, kicked, dragged
along the floor ! Sacred heaven, the memory of such
a treatment was not to be endured ! No future lus-
tration could ever remove the stain: and, what was
perhaps still worse in the present case, the offender
having ceased to exist, the lustration which the laws
of knight-errantry prescribe was rendered impossible.
" In some future period of human improvement, it
is probable, that that calamity will be in a manner un-
intelligible, which in the present instance contributed
to tarnish and wither the excellence of one of the most
elevated and amiable of human minds. If Mr. Falkland
bad reflected with perfect accuracy upon the case, he
K 3
134- CALEB WILLIAMS.
would probably have been able to look down with in-
difference upon a wound, which, as it was, pierced to
his very vitals. How much more dignity, than in the
modern duellist, do we find in Themistocles, the most
gallant of the Greeks ; who, when Eurybiades, his com-
mander in chief, in answer to some of his remonstrances?
lifted his cane over him with a menacing air, accosted
him in that noble apostrophe, ' Strike, but hear ! '
" How would a man of true discernment in such a
case reply to his brutal assailant ? * I make it my boast
that I can endure calamity and pain : shall I not be
able to endure the trifling inconvenience that your folly
can inflict upon me? Perhaps a human being would
be more accomplished, if he understood the science of
personal defence ; but how few would be the occasions
upon which he would be called to exert it? How few
persons would he encounter so unjust and injurious as
you, if his own conduct were directed by the principles
of reason and benevolence ? Beside, how narrow would
be the use of this science when acquired? It will
scarcely put the man of delicate make and petty stature
upon a level with the athletic pugilist ; and, if it did in
some measure secure me against the malice of a single
adversary, still my person and my life, so far as mere
force is concerned, would always be at the mercy of
two. Further than immediate defence against actual
violence, it could never be of use to me. The man
who can deliberately meet his adversary for the pur-
pose of exposing the person of one or both of them to
injury, tramples upon every principle of reason and
equity. Duelling is the vilest of all egotism, treating
the public, who has a claim to all my powers and ex-
ertions, as if it were nothing, and myself, or rather an
unintelligible chimera I annex to myself, as if it were
entitled to my exclusive attention. I am unable to
CALEB WILLIAMS. 135
ope with you : what then ? Can that circumstance
dishonour me? No; I can only be dishonoured by
perpetrating an unjust action. My honour is in my
own keeping, beyond the reach of all mankind. Strike !
1 am passive. No injury that you can inflict, shall pro-
/oke me to expose you or myself to unnecessary evil.
I refuse that; but I am not therefore pusillanimous:
when I refuse any danger or suffering by which the gene-
ral good may be promoted, then brand me for a coward ! '
••These reasonings, however simple and irresistible
they must be found by a dispassionate enquirer, are
lit tit ntkiUtl on by the world at large, and were most
of all uncongenial to the prejudices of Mr. Falkland.
" But the public disgrace and chastisement that had
been imposed upon him, intolerable as they were to be
recollected, were not the whole of the mischief that
redounded to our unfortunate patron from the trans-
actions of that day. It was presently whispered that
he was no other than the murderer of his antagonist.
This rumour was of too much importance to the very
continuance of his life, to justify its being concealed
from him. He heard it with inexpressible astonishment
and horror ; it formed a dreadful addition to the load
of intellectual anguish that already oppressed him. No
man had ever held his reputation more dear than Mr-
Falkland ; and now, in one day, he was fallen under
the most exquisite calamities, a complicated personal
insult, and the imputation of the foulest of crimes. He
might have fled; for no one was forward to proceed
against a man so adored as Mr. Falkland, or in revenge
of one so universally execrated as Mr. Tyrrel. But
flight he disdained. In the mean time the affair was
of the most serious magnitude, and the rumour un-
checked seemed daily to increase in strength. Mr.
Falkland appeared sometimes inclined to adopt such
K 4
1S6 CALEB WILLIAMS.
steps as might have been best calculated to bring the
imputation to a speedy trial. But he probably feared
by too direct an appeal to judicature, to render more
precise an imputation, the memory of which he depre-
cated ; at the same time that he was sufficiently willing
to meet the severest scrutiny, and, if he could not
hope to have it forgotten that he had ever been ac-
cused, to prove in the most satisfactory manner that
the accusation was unjust.
" The neighbouring magistrates at length conceived
it necessary to take some steps upon the subject.
Without causing Mr. Falkland to be apprehended, they
sent to desire he would appear before them at one of
their meetings. The proceeding being thus opened,
Mr. Falkland expressed his hope that, if the business
were likely to stop there, their investigation might at
least be rendered as solemn as possible. The meeting
was numerous ; every person of a respectable class in
society was admitted to be an auditor ; the whole
town, one of the most considerable in the county, was
apprised of the nature of the business. Few trials,
invested with all the forms of judgment, have excited
so general an interest. A trial, under the present cir-
cumstances, was scarcely attainable ; and it seemed to
be the wish both of principal and umpires, to give to
this transaction all the momentary notoriety and de-
cisiveness of a trial.
" The magistrates investigated the particulars of the
story. Mr. Falkland, it appeared, had left the rooms
immediately after his assailant ; and though he had
been attended by one or two of the gentlemen to his inn,
it was proved that he had left them upon some slight
occasion, as soon as he arrived at it, and that, when
they enquired for him of the waiters, he had already
mounted his horse and ridden home*
CALEB WILLIAMS. 137
" By the nature of the case, no particular facts could
be stated in balance against these. As soon as they
had been sufficiently detailed, Mr. Falkland therefore
proceeded to his defence. Several copies of his defence
were made, and Mr. Falkland seemed, for a short time,
to have had the idea of sending it to the press, though,
for some reason or other, he afterwards suppressed it .
I have one of the copies in my possession, and I will
read it to you."
Saying this, Mr. Collins rose, and took it from a
private drawer in his escritoire. During this action he
appeared to recollect himself. He did not, in the strict
sense of the word, hesitate ; but he was prompted to
make some apology for what he was doing.
" You seem never to have heard of this memor-
able transaction ; and, indeed, that is little to be
wondered at, since the good nature of the world is
interested in suppressing it, and it is deemed a dis-
grace to a man to have defended himself from a crimi-
nal imputation, though with circumstances the most
satisfactory and honourable. It may be supposed that
this suppression is particularly acceptable to Mr. Falk-
land ; and I should not have acted in contradiction to
his modes of thinking in communicating the story to
you, had there not been circumstances of peculiar
urgency, that seemed to render the communication de-
sirable." Saying this, he proceeded to read from the
paper in his hand.
" Gentlemen,
" I stand here accused of a crime, the most black
that any human creature is capable of perpetrating. I
am innocent. I have no fear that I shall fail to make
every person in this company acknowledge my innocence.
In the mean time, what must be my feelings? Con-
scious as I am of deserving approbation and not censure,
138 CALEB WILLIAMS.
of having passed my life in acts of justice and philan-
thropy, can any thing be more deplorable than for me
to answer to a charge of murder ? So wretched is my
situation, that I cannot accept your gratuitous acquittal,
if you should be disposed to bestow it. I must answer
to an imputation, the very thought of which is ten
thousand times worse to me than death. I must exert
the whole energy of my mind, to prevent my being
ranked with the vilest of men.
" Gentlemen, this is a situation in which a man may
be allowed to boast. Accursed situation ! No man
need envy me the vile and polluted triumph I am now
to gain ! I have called no witnesses to my character.
Great God ! what sort of character is that which must
be supported by witnesses ? But, if I must speak, look
round the company, ask of every one present, enquire
of your own hearts ! Not one word of reproach was
ever whispered against me. I do not hesitate to call
upon those who have known me most, to afford me the
most honourable testimony.
" My life has been spent in the keenest and most
unintermitted sensibility to reputation. I am almost
indifferent as to what shall be the event of this day.
I would not open my mouth upon the occasion, if my
life were the only thing that was at stake. It is not in
the power of your decision to restore to me my unble-
mished reputation, to obliterate the disgrace I have
suffered, or to prevent it from being remembered that
I have been brought to examination upon a charge of
murder. Your decision can never have the efficacy to
prevent the miserable remains of my existence from
being the most intolerable of all burthens.
" I am accused of having committed murder upon
the body of Barnabas Tyrrel. I would most joyfully
have given every farthing I possess, and devoted myself
CALEB WILLIAMS. 139
to perpetual beggary, to have preserved his life. His
life was precious to me, beyond that of all mankind.
In my opinion, the greatest injustice committed by his
unknown assassin was that of defrauding me of my
just revenge. I confess that I would have called him
out to the field, and that our encounter should not
have been terminated but by the death of one or both
of us. This would have been a pitiful and inadequate
compensation for his unparalleled insult, but it was all
that remained.
" I ask for no pity, but I must openly declare that
never was any misfortune so horrible as mine. I would
willingly have taken refuge from the recollection of
that night in a voluntary death. Life was now stripped
of all those recommendations, for the sake of which it
was dear to me. But even this consolation is denied
me. I am compelled to drag for ever the intolerable
load of existence, upon penalty, if at any period, how-
ever remote, I shake it off, of having that impatience
regarded as confirming a charge of murder. Gentle*
men, if by your decision you could take away my life,
without that act being connected with my disgrace, I
would bless the cord that stopped the breath of my
existence for ever.
" You all know how easily I might have fled from
this purgation. If I had been guilty, should I not
have embraced the opportunity? But, as it was, I
could not. Reputation has been the idol, the jewel of
my life. I could never have borne to think that a
human creature, in the remotest part of the globe,
should believe that I was a criminal. Alas ! what a
deity it is that I have chosen for my worship ! I have
entailed upon myself everlasting agony and despair !
" I have but one word to add. Gentlemen, I charge
you to do me the imperfect justice that is in your
140 CALEB WILLIAMS.
power ! My life is a worthless thing. But my honour,
the empty remains of honour I have now to boast, is
in your judgment, and you will each of you, from this
day, have imposed upon yourselves the task of its vin-
dicators. It is little that you can do for me ; but it is
not less your duty to do that little. May that God who
is the fountain of honour and good prosper and protect
you ! The man who now stands before you is devoted
to perpetual barrenness and blast ! He has nothing to
hope for beyond the feeble consolation of this day ! "
" You will easily imagine that Mr. Falkland was dis-
charged with every circumstance of credit. Nothing
is more to be deplored in human institutions, than Uiat
the ideas of mankind should have annexed a sentiment
of disgrace to a purgation thus satisfactory and decisive.
No one entertained the shadow of a doubt upon the
subject, and yet a mere concurrence of circumstances
made it necessary that the best of men should be pub-
licly put on hie defence, as if really under suspicion
of an atrocious crime. It may be granted indeed that
Mr. Falkland had his faults, but those very faults placed
him at a still further distance from the criminality in
question. He was the fool of honour and fame : a
man whom, in the pursuit of reputation, nothing could
divert ; who would have purchased the character of a
true, gallant, and undaunted hero, at the expense of
worlds, and who thought every calamity nominal but
a stain upon his honour. How atrociously absurd to
suppose any motive capable of inducing such a man to
play the part of a lurking assassin ? How unfeeling to
oblige him to defend himself from such an imputation ?
Did any man, and, least of all, a man of the purest
honour, erer pass in a moment, from a life unstained
by a single act of injury, to the consummation of
human depravity?
CALEB WILLIAMS. 141
" When the decision of the magistrates was declared,
a general murmur of applause and involuntary transport
burst forth from every one present. It was at first low,
and gradually became louder. As it was the expression
of rapturous delight, and an emotion disinterested and
divine, so there was an indescribable something in the
very sound, that carried it home to the heart, and con-
vinced every spectator that there was no merely per-
sonal pleasure which ever existed, that would not be
foolish and feeble in the comparison. Every one strove
who should most express his esteem of the amiable ac-
cused. Mr. Falkland was no sooner withdrawn than the
gentlemen present determined to give a still further
sanction to the business, by their congratulations.
They immediately named a deputation to wait upon
him for that purpose. Every one concurred to assist
the general sentiment. It was a sort of sympathetic
feeling that took hold upon all ranks and degrees. The
multitude received him with huzzas, they took his
horses from his carriage, dragged him along in triumph,
and attended him many miles on his return to his own
habitation. It seemed as if a public examination upon
a criminal charge, which had hitherto been considered
in every event as a brand of disgrace, was converted, in
the present instance, into an occasion of enthusiastic
adoration and unexampled honour.
" Nothing could reach the heart of Mr. Falkland.
He was not insensible to the general kindness and ex-
ertions ; but it was too evident that the melancholy that
had taken hold of his mind was invincible.
" It was only a few weeks after this memorable scene
that the real murderer was discovered. Every part of
this story was extraordinary. The real murderer waf
Hawkins. He was found with his son, under a feigned
name, at a village about thirty miles distant, in want of
142 CALEB WILLIAMS.
all the necessaries of life. He had lived there, from the
period of his flight, in so private a manner, that all the
enquiries that had been set on foot, by the benevolence
of Mr. Falkland, or the insatiable malice of Mr. Tyrrel,
had been insufficient to discover him. The first thing
that had led to the detection was a parcel of clothes
covered with blood, that were found in a ditch, and
that, when drawn out, were known by the people of
the village to belong to this man. The murder of Mr.
Tyrrel was not a circumstance that could be unknown,
and suspicion was immediately roused. A diligent search
being made, the rusty handle, with part of the blade
of a knife, was found thrown in a corner of his lodging,
which, being applied to a piece of the point of a knife
that had been broken in the wound, appeared exactly
to correspond. Upon further enquiry two rustics, who
had been accidentally on the spot, remembered to have
seen Hawkins and his son in the town that very evening,
and to have called after them, and received no answer,
though they were sure of their persons. Upon this ac-
cumulated evidence both Hawkins and his son were tried,
condemned, and afterwards executed. In the interval
between the sentence and execution Hawkins confessed
his guilt with many marks of compunction ; though
there are persons by whom this is denied ; but I have
taken some pains to enquire into the fact, and am per-
suaded that their disbelief is precipitate and ground-
less.
" The cruel injustice that this man had suffered from
his village-tyrant was not forgotten upon the present
occasion. It was by a strange fatality that the barba-
rous proceedings of Mr. Tyrrel seemed never to fall
short of their completion ; and even his death served
eventually to consummate the ruin of a man he hated ;
a circumstance which, if it could have come to his
CALEB WILLIAMS. 143
knowledge, would perhaps have in some measure con-
soled him for his untimely end. This poor Hawkins
was surely entitled to some pity, since his being finally
urged to desperation, and brought, together with his
son, to an ignominious fate, was originally owing to
the sturdiness of his virtue and independence. But
the compassion of the public was in a great measure
shut against him, as they thought it a piece of barbarous
and unpardonable selfishness, that he had not rather
come boldly forward to meet the consequences of his
own conduct, than suffer a man of so much public
worth as Mr. Falkland, and who had been so desirous
of doing him good, to be exposed to the risk of being
tried for a murder that he had committed.
" From this time to the present Mr. Falkland has
been nearly such as you at present see him. Though it
be several years }since these transactions, the impres-
sion they made is for ever fresh in the mind of our un-
fortunate patron. From thenceforward his habiu
became totally different. He had before been fond of
public scenes, and acting a part in the midst of the
people among whom he immediately resided. He now
made himself a rigid recluse. He had no associates, no
friends. Inconsolable himself, he yet wished to treat
others with kindness. There was a solemn sadness in
his manner, attended with the most perfect gentleness
and humanity. Everybody respects him, for his bene-
volence is unalterable ; but there is a stately coldness
and reserve in his behaviour, which makes it difficult
for those about him to regard him with the familiarity
of affection. These symptoms are uninterrupted, except
at certain times when his sufferings become intolerable,
and he displays the marks of a furious insanity. At
those times his language is fearful and mysterious, and
he seems to figure to himself by turns every sort of per-
144 CALEB WILLIAMS.
secution and alarm, which may be supposed to attend
upon an accusation of murder. But, sensible of his own
weakness, lie is anxious at such times to withdraw into
solitude : and his domestics in general know nothing
of him, but the uncommunicative and haughty, but
mild, dejection that accompanies every thing he djes."
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 1 1 '
VOLUME THE SECOND.
CHAPTER I.
I HAVE stated the narrative of Mr. Collins, inter-
spersed with such other information as I was able to
collect, with all the exactness that my memory, assist-
ed by certain memorandums I made at the time, will
afford. I do not pretend to warrant the authenticity
of any part of these memoirs, except so much as fell
under my own knowledge, and that part shall be given
with the same simplicity and accuracy, that I would
observe towards a court which was to decide in the last
resort upon every thing dear to me. The same scru-
pulous fidelity restrains me from altering the manner
of Mr. Collins's narrative to adapt it to the precepts
of my own taste; and it will soon be perceived how
essential that narrative is to the elucidation of my
history.
The intention of my friend in this communication
was to give me ease; but he in reality added to my
embarrassment. Hitherto I had had no intercourse
with the world and its passions ; and, though I was not
totally unacquainted with them as they appear in books,
this proved of little service to me when I came to wit-
ness them myself. The case seemed entirely altered,
when the subject of those passions was continually be-
fore my eyes, and the events had happened but the
other day as it were, in the very neighbourhood where
I lived. There was a connection and progress in. this
L
146 CALEB WILLIAMS.
narrative, which made it altogether unlike the little vil-
lage incidents I had hitherto known. My feelings
were successively interested for the different persons
that were brought upon the scene. My veneration
was excited for Mr. Clare, and my applause for the in-
trepidity of Mrs. Hammond. I was astonished that
any human creature should be so shockingly perverted
as Mr. Tyrrel. I paid the tribute of my tears to the
memory of the artless Miss Melville. I found a thou-
sand fresh reasons to admire and love Mr. Falkland.
At present I was satisfied with thus considering
every incident in its obvious sense. But the story I
had heard was for ever in my thoughts, and I was pe-
culiarly interested to comprehend its full import. I
turned it a thousand ways, and examined it in every
point of view. In the original communication it ap-
peared sufficiently distinct and satisfactory; but as I
brooded over it, it gradually became mysterious. There
was something strange in the character of Hawkins.
So firm, so sturdily honest and just, as he appeared at
first ; all at once to become a murderer ! His first be-
haviour under the prosecution, how accurately was it
calculated to prepossess one in his favour ! To be
sure, if he were guilty, it was unpardonable in him to
permit a man of so much dignity and worth as Mr.
Falkland, to suffer under the imputation of his crime I
And yet I could not help bitterly compassionating the
honest fellow, brought to the gallows, as he was, strictly
speaking, by the machinations of that devil incarnate,
Mr, Tyrrel. His son, too, that son for whom he volun-
tarily sacrificed his all, to die with him at the same
tree ; surely never was a story more affecting !
Was it possible, after all, that Mr. Falkland should
be the murderer ? The reader will scarcely believe,
that tfce Ude4 suggested itself to my mind that I would
CALEB WILLIAMS. 147
ask him. It was but a passing thought ; but it serves
to mark the simplicity of my character. Then I recol-
lected the virtues of my master, almost too sublime for
human nature; I thought of his sufferings so unexam-
pled, so unmerited; and chid myself for the suspicion.
The dying confession of Hawkins recurred to my mind ;
and I felt that there was no longer a possibility of
doubting. And yet what was the meaning of all Mr.
Falkland's agonies and terrors ? In fine, the idea having
once occurred to my mind, it was fixed there for ever.
My thoughts fluctuated from conjecture to conjecture,
but this was the centre about which they revolved. I
determined to place myself as a watch upon my patron.
The instant I had chosen this employment for my-
self, I found a strange sort of pleasure in it. To do
what is forbidden always has its charms, because we
have an indistinct apprehension of something arbitrary
and tyrannical in the prohibition. To be a spy upon
Mr. Falkland ! That there was danger in the employ-
ment, served to give an alluring pungency to the
choice. I remembered the stern reprimand I had re-
ceived, and his terrible looks; and the recollection
gave a kind of tingling sensation, not altogether unal-
lied to enjoyment. The further I advanced, the more
the sensation was irresistible. I seemed to myself per-
petually upon the brink of being countermined, and
perpetually roused to guard my designs. The more
impenetrable Mr. Falkland was determined to be, the
more uncontrollable was my curiosity. Through the
whole, my alarm and apprehension of personal danger
had a large mixture of frankness and simplicity, con-
scious of meaning no ill, that made me continually
ready to say every thing that was upon my mind, and
would not suffer me to believe that, when things were
L 2
14-8 CALEB WILLIAMS.
brought to the test, any one could be seriously angry
with me.
These reflections led gradually to a new state of my
mind. When I had first removed into Mr. Falkland's
family, the novelty of the scene rendered me cautious
and reserved. The distant and solemn manners of my
master seemed to have annihilated my constitutional
gaiety. But the novelty by degrees wore off, and my
constraint in the same degree diminished. The story
I had now heard, and the curiosity it excited, restored
to me activity, eagerness, and courage. I had always
had a propensity to communicate my thoughts; my
age was, of course, inclined to talkativeness; and I
ventured occasionally in a sort of hesitating way, as if
questioning whether such a conduct might be allowed,
to express my sentiments as they arose, in the pre-
sence of Mr. Falkland.
The first time I did so, he looked at me with an air
of surprise, made me no answer, and presently took oc-
casion to leave me. The experiment was soon after
repeated. My master seemed half inclined to encou-
rage me, and yet doubtful whether he might venture.
He had long been a stranger to pleasure of every sort,
and my artless and untaught remarks appeared to pro-
mise him some amusement. Could an amusement of
this sort be dangerous ?
In this uncertainty he could not probably find it in
his heart to treat with severity my innocent effusions.
I needed but little encouragement ; for the perturbation
of my mind stood in want of this relief. My simplicity,
arising from my being a total stranger to the intercourse
of the world, was accompanied with a mind in some
degree cultivated with reading, and perhaps not alto-
gether destitute of observation and talent. My re-
marks were therefore perpetually unexpected, at one
CALKB WILLIAMS.
149
time implying extreme ignorance, and at another some
portion of acuteness, but at all times having an air of
innocence, frankness, and courage. There was still an
apparent want of design in the manner, even after I
wag excited accurately to compare my observations,
and study the inferences to which they led ; for the
effect of old Kabit was more visible than that of a re-
cently conceived purpose which was yet scarcely
mature.
Mr. Falkland's situation was like that of a fish that
plays with the bait employed to entrap him. By my
manner he was in a certain degree encouraged to lay
aside his usual reserve, and relax his stateliness; till
some abrupt observation or interrogatory stung him
into recollection, and brought back his alarm. Still
it was evident that he bore about him a secret wound.
Whenever the cause of his sorrows was touched, though
in a manner the most indirect and remote, his counte
nance altered, his distemper returned, and it was with
difficulty that he could suppress his emotions, some-
times conquering himself with painful effort, and some-
times bursting into a sort of paroxysm of insanity, and
hastening to bury himself in solitude.
These appearances I too frequently interpreted into
grounds of suspicion, though I might with equal proba-
bility and more liberality have ascribed them to the
cruel mortifications he had encountered in the objects
of his darling ambition. Mr. Collins had strongly
urged me to secrecy ; and Mr. Falkland, whenever my
gesture or his consciousness impressed him with the
idea of ray knowing more than I expressed, looked at
me with wistful earnestness, as questioning what was
the degree of information I possessed, and how it was
obtained. But again at our next interview the simple
vivacity of my manner restored his tranquillity, obliter-
L 3
150 CALEB WILLIAMS.
ated the emotion of which I had been the cause, and
placed things afresh in their former situation.
The longer this humble familiarity on my part had
continued, the more effort it would require to suppress
it ; and Mr. Falkland was neither willing to mortify me
by a severe prohibition of speech, nor even perhaps to
make me of so much consequence, as that prohibition
might seem to imply. Though I was curious, it must
not be supposed that I had the object of my enquiry
for ever in my mind, or that my questions and innuen-
does were perpetually regulated with the cunning of a
grey-headed inquisitor. The secret wound of Mr.
Falkland's mind was much more uniformly present to
his recollection than to mine ; and a thousand times he
applied the remarks that occurred in conversation ;
when I had not the remotest idea of such an applica-
tion, till some singularity in his manner brought it back
to my thoughts. The consciousness of this nrorbid
sensibility, and the imagination that its influence might
perhaps constitute the whole of the case, served probably
to spur Mr. Falkland again to the charge, and connect
a sentiment of shame, with every project that suggested
itself for interrupting the freedom of our intercourse.
I will give a specimen of the conversations to which
I allude; and, as it shall be selected from those which
began upon topics the most general and remote, the
reader will easily imagine the disturbance that was
almost daily endured by a mind so tremblingly alive as
that of my patron.
" Pray, sir," said I, one day as I was assisting Mr.
Falkland in arranging some papers, previously to their
being transcribed into his collection, " how came Alex-
ander of Macedon to be surnamed the Great ? "
" How came it ? Did you never read his history?"
. « Yes, sir,"
CALEB \VI1.I. I VMS. 151
" Well, Williams, and could you find no reasons
then
" Why, I do not know, sir. I could find reasons why
he should be so famous ; but every man that is talked
of is not admired. Judges differ about the merits of
Alexander. Doctor Prideaux says in his Connections
that he deserves only to be called the Great Cut-
throat ; and the author of Tom Jones has written a
volume, to prove that he and all other conquerors
ought to be classed with Jonathan Wild."
Mr. Falkland reddened at these citations.
" Accursed blasphemy ! Did these authors think that,
by the coarseness of their ribaldry, they could destroy
his well-earned fame? Are learning, sensibility, and
taste, no securities to exempt their possessor from this
vulgar abuse ? Did you ever read, Williams, of a man
more gallant, generous, and free ? Was ever mortal so
completely the reverse of every thing engrossing and
selfish ? He formed to himself a sublime image of ex-
cellence, and his only ambition was to realise it in his
own story. Remember his giving away every thing
when he set out upon his grand expedition, professedly
reserving for himself nothing but hope. Recollect his
heroic confidence in Philip the physician, and his entire
and unalterable friendship for Ephestion. He treated
the captive family of Darius with the most cordial ur-
banity, and the venerable Sysigambis with all the ten-
derness and attention of a son to his mother. Never
take the judgment, Williams, upon such a subject of a
clerical pedant, or a Westminster justice. Examine
for yourself, and you will find in Alexander a model of
honour, generosity, and disinterestedness, — a man who,
for the cultivated liberality of his.mind, and the unpa-
ralleled grandeur of his projects, must stand alone the
spectacle and admiration of all ages of the world."
152 CALEB WILLIAMS.
" Ah, sir ! it is a fine thing for us to sit here and com-
pose his panegyric. But shall I forget what a vast ex-
pense was bestowed in erecting the monument of his
fame ? Was not he the common disturber of mankind ?
Did not he over-run nations that would never have
heard of him but for his devastations ? How many
hundred thousands of lives did he sacrifice in his
career ? What must I think of his cruelties ; a whole
tribe massacred for a crime committed by their ancestors
one hundred and fifty years before; fifty thousand
sold into slavery ; two thousand crucified for their gal-
lant defence of their country ? Man is surely a strange
sort of creature, who never praises any one more
heartily than him who has spread destruction and ruin
over the face of nations !"
" The way of thinking you express, Williams, is na-
tural enough, and I cannot blame you for it. But let
me hope that you will become more liberal. The death
of a hundred thousand men is at first sight very shock-
ing ; but what in reality are a hundred thousand such
men, more than a hundred thousand sheep? It is
mind, Williams, the generation of knowledge and virtue,
that we ought to love. This was the project of Alex-
ander; he set out in a great undertaking to civilise
mankind ; he delivered the vast continent of Asia from
the stupidity and degradation of the Persian monarchy ;
and, though he was cut off in the midst of his career,
we may easily perceive the vast effects of his project.
Grecian literature and cultivation, the Seleucidae, the
Antiochuses, and the Ptolemies followed, in nations
which before had been sunk to the condition of brutes.
Alexander was the builder, as notoriously as the
destroyer, of cities."
" And yet, sir, I am afraid that the pike and the battle-
axe, are not the right instruments for making men wise.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 153
Suppose it were admitted that the lives of men were to
be >;u-ritiri-d without ivmorx.' it' a paramount irooil \\ ere
to result, it seems to me as if murder and massacre
were but a very left-handed way of producing civilisa-
tion and love. But pray, do not you think this great
hero was a sort of a madman ? What now will you
say to his firing the palace of Persepolis, his weeping
for other worlds to conquer, and his marching his
whole army over the burning sands of Libya, merely to
visit a temple, and persuade mankind that he was the
son of Jupiter Ammon? "
" Alexander, my boy, lias. been much misunderstood.
Mankind have revenged themselves upon him by mis-
representation, for having so far eclipsed the rest of his
species. It was necessary to the realising his project,
that he should pass for a god. It was the only way by
which he could get a firm hold upon the veneration of
the stupid and bigoted Persians. It was this, and not
a mad vanity, that was the source of his proceeding.
And how much had he to struggle with in this respect,
in the unapprehending obstinacy of some of his Mace-
donians ?'*
•• Why then, sir, at last Alexander did but employ
means that all politicians profess to use, as well as he.
He dragooned men into wisdom, and cheated them into
the pursuit of their own happiness. But what is worse,
sir, this Alexander, in the paroxysm of his headlong
rage, spared neither friend nor foe. You will not pre-
tend to justify the excesses of his ungovernable passion.
It is impossible, sure, that a word can be said for a
man whom a momentary provocation can hurry into
the commission of murders "
The instant I had uttered these words, I felt what it
was that I had done. There was a magnetical sympathy
between me and my patron, so that their effect was not
154 CALEB WILLIAMS.
sooner produced upon him, than my own mind re-
proached me with the inhumanity of the allusion. Our
confusion was mutual. The blood forsook at once the
transparent complexion of Mr. Falkland, and then
rushed back again with rapidity and fierceness. I dared
not utter a word, lest I should commit a new error,
worse than that into which I had just fallen. After a
short, but severe, struggle to continue the conversation,
Mr. Falkland began with trepidation, but afterwards
became calmer : —
" You are not candid — Alexander — You must learn
more clemency — Alexander, I say, does not deserve
this rigour. Do you remember his tears, his remorse,
his determined abstinence from food, which he could
scarcely be persuaded to relinquish? Did not that
prove acute feeling and a rooted principle of equity ? —
Well, well, Alexander was a true and judicious lover of
mankind, and his real merits have been little compre-
hended."
I know not how to make the state of my mind at
that moment accurately understood. When one idea
has got possession of the soul, it is scarcely possible to
keep it from finding its way to the lips. Error, once
committed, has a fascinating power, like that ascribed
to the eyes of the rattlesnake, to draw us into a second
error. It deprives us of that proud confidence in our
own strength, to which we are indebted for so much
of our virtue. Curiosity is a restless propensity, and
often does but hurry us forward the more irresistibly,
the greater is the danger that attends its indulgence.
" Clitus," said I, " was a man of very coarse and pro-
voking manners, was he not ? "
Mr. Falkland felt the full force of this appeal. He
gave me a penetrating look, as if he would see my very
soul. His eyes were then in an instant withdrawn.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 155
I could pinvivt' him st-i/ed with a convulsive shud-
dering which, though strongly counteracted, and there-
fore scarcely visible, had I know not what of terrible
in it. He left his employment, strode about the room
in anger, his visage gradually assumed an expression as
of supernatural barbarity, he quitted the apartment
abruptly, and flung the door with a violence that seemed
to shake the house.
• « Is this," said I, « the fruit of conscious guilt, or of the
disgust that a man of honour conceives at guilt unde-
servedly imputed ? "
CHAPTER II.
THE reader will feel how rapidly I. was advancing to
the brink of the precipice. I had a confused appre-
hension of what I was doing, but I could not stop my-
self. " Is it possible," said I, " that Mr. Falkland, who is
thus overwhelmed with a sense of the unmerited dis-
honour that has been fastened upon him in the face of
the world, will long endure the presence of a raw and
unfriended youth, who is perpetually bringing back that
dishonour to his recollection, and who seems himself
the most forward to entertain the accusation ? "
I felt indeed that Mr. Falkland would not hastily in-
cline to dismiss me, for the same reason that restrained
him from many other actions, which might seem to
savour of a too tender and ambiguous sensibility. But
this reflection was little adapted to comfort me. That
he should cherish in his heart a growing hatred against
me, and that he should think himself obliged to retain
me a continual thorn in his side, was an idea by no means
of favourable augury to my future peace.
156 CALEB WILLIAMS.
It was some time after this that, in clearing out a case
of drawers, I found a paper that, by some accident, had
slipped behind one of the drawers, and been overlooked.
At another time perhaps my curiosity might have given
way to the laws of decorum, and I should have restored
it unopened to my master, its owner. But my eagerness
for information had been too much stimulated by the
preceding incidents, to allow me at present to neglect
any occasion of obtaining it. The paper proved to be a
letter written by the elder Hawkins, and from its con-
tents seemed to have been penned, when he had first
been upon the point of absconding from the persecu-
tions of Mr. Tyrrel. It was as follows : —
" Honourable Sir,
" I have waited some time in daily hope of your
honour's return into these parts. Old Warnes and his
dame, who are left to take care of your house, tell me
they cannot say when that will be, nor justly in what
part of England you are at present. For my share,
misfortune comes so thick upon me, that I must deter-
mine upon something (that is for certain), and out of
hand. Our squire, who I must own at first used me
kindly enough, though I am afraid that was partly out
of spite to squire Underwood, has since determined to
be the ruin of me. Sir, I have been no craven ; I fought
it up stoutly ; for after all, you know, God bless your
honour ! it is but a man to a man ; but he has been too
much for me.
" Perhaps if I were to ride over to the market-town
and enquire of Munsle, your lawyer, he could tell me
how to direct to you. But having hoped and waited
o' this fashion, and all in vain, has put me upon other
thoughts. I was in no hurry, sir, to apply to you ; for
I do not love to be a trouble to any body. I kept
CALEB WILLIAMS. 157
that for my last stake. Well, sir, and now tliat has
failed me like, I am ashamed, as it were, to have
thought of it. Have not I, thinks I, arms and legs
as well as other people ? I am driven out of house
and home. Well, and what then ? Sure I ara't a cab-
bage, that if you pull it out of the ground it must
die. I am pennyless. True ; and how many hundreds
are there that live from hand to mouth all the days
of their life ? (Begging your honour's pardon) thinks I,
if we little folks had but the wit to do for ourselves, the
great folks would not be such maggotty changelings as
they are. They would begin to look about them.
« But there is another thing that has swayed with me
more" than all the rest. I do not know how to tell you, sir,
— My poor boy, my Leonard, the pride of my life, has
been three weeks in the county jail. It is true indeed,
sir. Squire Tyrrel put him there. Now, sir, every time
that I lay my head upon my pillow under my own little
roof, my heart smites me with the situation of my
Leonard. I do not mean so much for the hardship ; I
do not so much matter that. I do not expect him to
go through the world upon velvet ! I am not such a
fool. But who can tell what may hap in a jail ! I have
been three times to see him ; and there is one man in
the same quarter of the prison that looks so wicked ! I
do not much fancy the looks of the rest. To be sure,
Leonard is as good a lad as ever lived. I think he will
not give his mind to such. But come what will, I am
determined he shall not stay among them twelve hours
longer. I am an obstinate old fool perhaps ; but I have
taken it into my head, and I will do it. Do not ask me
what. But, if I were to write to your honour, and wait
for your answer, it might take a week or ten days more.
I must not think of it !
11 Squire Tyrrel is very headstrong, and you, your
158 CALEB WILLIAMS.
honour, might be a little hottish, or so. No, I would
not have any body quarrel for me. There has been
mischief enough done already; and I will get myself
out of the way. So I write this, your honour, merely
to unload my mind. I feel myself equally as much
bound to respect and love you, as if you had done every
thing for me, that I believe you would have done if
things had chanced differently. It is most likely you
will never hear of me any more. If it should be so, set
your worthy heart at rest. I know myself too well, ever
to be tempted to do any thing that is really bad. I
have now my fortune to seek in the world. I have been
used ill enough, God knows. But I bear no malice ;
my heart is at peace with all mankind ; and I forgive
every body. It is like enough that poor Leonard and
I may have hardship enough to undergo, among strangers,
and being obliged to hide ourselves like housebreakers
or highwaymen. But I defy all the malice of fortune
to make us do an ill thing. That consolation we will
always keep against all the crosses of a heart-breaking
world.
'5 God bless you !
" So prays,
" Your honour's humble servant to command,
" BENJAMIN HAWKINS."
I read this letter with considerable attention, and it
occasioned me many reflections. To my way of think-
ing it contained a very interesting picture of a blunt,
downright, honest mind. " It is a melancholy consider-
ation," said I to myself; " but such is man ! To have
judged from appearances one would have said, this is a
fellow to have taken fortune's buffets and rewards with
an incorruptible mind. And yet see where it all ends !
This man was capable of afterwards becoming a mur-
CALEB WILLIANfS. 159
derer, and finished his life at tin- gallon^. O poverty !
thou art indeed omnipotent ! Thou grindest us into
desperation ; thou contbundest all our boasted and most
(kip-rooted principles ; thou fillest us to the very brim
with malice and revenge, and renderest us capable of
acts of unknown horror ! May I never be visited by thee
in the fulness of thy power ! "
Having satisfied my curiosity with respect to this
paper, I took care to dispose of it in such a manner
as that it shoulo! be found by Mr. Falkland ; at the same
time that, in obedience to the principle which at present
governed me with absolute dominion, I was willing that
the way in which it offered itself to his attention should
suggest to him the idea that it had possibly passed
through ray hands. The next morning I saw him, and
I exerted myself to lead the conversation, which by this
time I well knew how to introduce, by insensible degrees
to the point I desired. After several previous questions,
remarks, and rejoinders, I continued : —
" Well, sir, after all, I cannot help feeling very un-
comfortably as to my ideas of human nature, when I find
that there is no dependence to be placed upon its perse-
verance, and that, at least among the illiterate, the most
promising appearances may end in the foulest disgrace."
" You think, then, that literature and a cultivated
mind are the only assurance from the constancy of
our principles ! "
" Humph ! — why do you suppose, sir, that learning
and ingenuity do not often serve people rather to hide
their crimes than to restrain them from committing
them ? History tellsnis strange things in that respect."
" Williams," said Mr. Falkland, a little disturbed,
u you are extremely given to censure and severity."
" 1 hope not. I am sure I am most fond of looking
on the other side of the picture, and considering how
160 CALEB WILLIAMS.
many men have been aspersed, and even at some time
or other almost torn to pieces by their fellow-creatures,
whom, when properly understood, we find worthy of
our reverence and love."
" Indeed," replied Mr. Falkland, with a sigh, " when
I consider these things I do not wonder at the dying
exclamation of Brutus, ' O Virtue, I sought thee as a
substance, but I find thee an empty name !' I am too
much inclined to be of his opinion."
" Why, to be sure, sir, innocence and guilt are too
much confounded in human life. I remember an af-
fecting story of a poor man in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth, who would have infallibly been hanged for
murder upon the strength of circumstantial evidence, if
the person really concerned had not been himself upon
the jury and prevented it."
In saying this I touched the spring that wakened
madness in his mind. He came up to me with a fero-
cious countenance, as if determined to force me into a
confession of my thoughts. A sudden pang however
seemed to change his design ! he drew back with tre-
pidation, and exclaimed, " Detested be the universe,
and the laws that govern it ! Honour, justice, virtue,
are all the juggle of knaves ! If it were in my power I
would instantly crush the whole system into nothing ! "
1 replied ; " Oh, sir ! things are not so bad as you
imagine. The world was made for men of sense to do
what they will with. Its affairs cannot be better than
in the direction of the genuine heroes ; and as in the
end they will be found the truest friends of the whole,
so the multitude have nothing to do but to look on, be
fashioned, and admire."
Mr. Falkland made a powerful effort to recover his
tranquillity. " Williams," said he, " you instruct me
well. You have a right notion of things, and I have
CALEB WILLIAMS. 161
great hopes of you. I will be more of a man ; I will
forget the past, and do better for the time to come.
The future, the future is always our own."
" I am sorry, sir, that I have given you pain. I am
afraid to say all that I think. But it is my opinion that
mistakes will ultimately be cleared up, justice done,
and the true state of things come to light, in spite of
the false colours that may for a time obscure it."
The idea I suggested did not give Mr. Falkland the
proper degree of delight. He suffered a temporary
relapse. " Justice ! " — he muttered. " I do not know
what is justice. My case is not within the reach of
common remedies ; perhaps of none. I only know that
I am miserable. I began life with the best intentions
and the most fervid philanthropy; and here I am—
miserable — miserable beyond expression or endurance.'*
Having said this, he seemed suddenly to recollect
himself, and re-assumed his acccustomed dignity and
command. " How came this conversation ?" cried he.
M Who gave you a right to be my confidant? Base,
artful wretch that you are ! learn to be more respect-
ful ! Are my passions to be wound and unwound by an
insolent domestic ? Do you think I will be an instru-
ment to be played on at your pleasure, till you have
extorted all the treasures of my soul ? Begone, and
fear lest you be made to pay for the temerity you have
already committed 1 "
There was an energy and determination in the ges-
tures with which these words were accompanied,
that did not admit of their being disputed. My mouth
was closed ; I felt as if deprived of all share of activity,
and was only able silently and passively to quit the
apartment.
M
162 CALEB WILLIAMS.
CHAPTER III.
Two days subsequent to this conversation, Mr. Falk-
land ordered me to be called to him. [I shall continue
to speak in my narrative of the silent, as well as the
articulate part of the intercourse between us. His
countenance was habitually animated and expressive,
much beyond that of any other man I have seen. The
curiosity which, as I have said, constituted my ruling
passion, stimulated me to make it my perpetual study.
It will also most probably happen, while I am thus
employed in collecting the scattered incidents of my
history, that I shall upon some occasions annex to ap-
pearances an explanation which I was far from possess-
ing at the time, and was only suggested to me through
the medium of subsequent events.]
When I entered the apartment, I remarked in Mr.
Falkland's countenance an unwonted composure. This
composure however did not seem to result from in-
ternal ease, but from an effort which, while he prepared
himself for an interesting scene, was exerted to prevent
his presence of mind, and power of voluntary action,
from suffering any diminution.
" Williams," said he, " I am determined, whatever it
may cost me, to have an explanation with you. You are
a rash and inconsiderate boy, and have given me much
disturbance. You ought to have known that, though
I allow you to talk with me upon indifferent subjects,
it is very improper in you to lead the conversation to
any thing that relates to my personal concerns. You
have said many things lately in a very mysterious way,
and appear to know something more than I am aware
of. I am equally at a loss to guess how you came by
CALEB WILLIAMS. 16S
your knowledge, as of what it consists. But I think I
perceive too much inclination on your part to trifle with
my peace of mind. That ought not to be, nor have I
deserved any such treatment from you. But, be that
as it will, the guesses in which you oblige me to employ
myself are too painful. It is a sort of sporting with
my feelings, which, as a man of resolution, I am de-
termined to bring to an end. I expect you therefore
to lay aside all mystery and equivocation, and inform
me explicitly what it is upon which your allusions are
built What is it you know ? What is it you want ?
I have been too much exposed already to unparalleled
mortification and hardship, and my wounds will not
bear this perpetual tampering."
" I feel, sir," answered I, " how wrong I have been,
and am ashamed that such a one as I should have
given you all this trouble and displeasure. I felt it at
the time ;but I have been hurried along, I do not know
how. I have always tried to stop myself, but the demon
that possessed me was too strong for me. I know no-
thing, sir, but what Mr. Collins told me. He told me
the story of Mr. Tyrrel and Miss Melville and Hawkins.
I am sure, sir, he said nothing but what was to your
honour, and proved you to be more an angel than a
" Well, sir : I found a letter written by that Hawkins
the other day ; did not that letter fall into your hands ?
Did not you read it?"
" For God's sake, sir, turn me out of your house.
Punish me in some way or other, that I may forgive
myself. I am a foolish, wicked, despicable wretch. I
confess, sir, I did read the letter."
" And how dared you read it ? It was indeed very
wrong of you. But we will talk of that by and by.
M 2
164- CALEB WILLIAMS.
Well, and what did you say to the letter ? You know,
it seems, that Hawkins was hanged."
" I say, sir ? why it went to my heart to read it. I
say, as I said the day before yesterday, that when I
see a man of so much principle afterwards deliberately
proceeding to the very worst of crimes, I can scarcely
bear to think of it."
" That is what you say ? It seems too you know —
accursed remembrance ! — that I was accused of this
crime ? "
I was silent.
" Well, sir. You know too, perhaps, that from the
hour the crime was committed — yes, sir, that was the
date [and as he said this, there was somewhat frightful,
I had almost said diabolical, in his countenance] — I
have not had an hour's peace ; I became changed from
the happiest to the most miserable thing that lives;
sleep has fled from my eyes ; joy has been a stranger to
my thoughts ; and annihilation I should prefer a thou-
sand times to the being that I am. As soon as I was
capable of a choice, I chose honour and the esteem of
mankind as a good I preferred to all others. You
know, it seems, in how many ways my ambition has
been disappointed, — I do not thank Collins for having
been the historian of my disgrace, — would to God
that night could be blotted from the memory of man !
— But the scene of that night, instead of perishing,
has been a source of ever new calamity to me, which
must flow for ever ! Am I then, thus miserable and
ruined, a proper subject upon which for you to exercise
your ingenuity, and improve your power of torment-
ing? Was it not enough that I was publicly disho-
noured? that I was deprived, by the pestilential in-
fluence of some demon, of the opportunity of avenging
CALEB WILLIAMS. 165
my dishonour ? No : in addition to this, I have been
charged with having in this critical moment inter-
cepted my own vengeance by the foulest of crimes.
That trial is past. Misery itself has nothing worse in
store for me, except what you have inflicted : the
seeming to doubt of my innocence, which, after the fullest
and most solemn examination, has been completely
established. You have forced me to this explanation.
You have extorted from me a confidence which I had
no inclination to make. But it is a part of the misery
of my situation, that I am at the mercy of every crea-
ture, however little, who feels himself inclined to sport
with my distress. Be content. You have brought me
low enough."
*• Oh, sir, I am not content ; I cannot be content ! I
cannot bear to think what I have done. I shall never
again be able to look in the face of the best of masters
and the best of men. I beg of you, sir, to turn me out
of your service. Let me go and hide myself where I
may never see you more."
Mr. Falkland's countenance had indicated great
severity through the whole of this conversation ; but
now it became more harsh and tempestuous than ever.
" How now, rascal !" cried he. " You want to leave
me, do you? Who told you that I wished to part
with you ? But you cannot bear to live with such a
miserable wretch as I am ! You are not disposed to
put up with the caprices of a man so dissatisfied and
unjust !"
w Oh, sir ! do not talk to me thus ! Do with me.
any thing you will. Kill me if you please."
•• Kill you !" [Volumes could not describe the emo*
tions with which this echo of my words was given and
received.]
" Sir, I could die to serve you ! I love you more
M 3
166 CALEB WILLIAMS.
than I can express. I worship you as a being of a
superior nature. I am foolish, raw, inexperienced, —
worse than any of these ; — but never did a thought of
disloyalty to your service enter into my heart."
Here our conversation ended ; and the impression it
made upon my youthful mind it is impossible to de-
scribe. I thought with astonishment, even with rapture,
of the attention and kindness towards me I discovered
in Mr. Falkland, through all the roughness of his
manner. I could never enough wonder at finding myself,
humble as I was by my birth, obscure as I had hitherto
been, thus suddenly become of so much importance to
the happiness of one of the most enlightened and ac-
complished men in England. But this consciousness
attached me to my patron more eagerly than ever, and
made me swear a thousand times, as I meditated upon
my situation, that I would never prove unworthy of so
generous a protector.
CHAPTER IV.
Is it not unaccountable that, in the midst of all my in-
creased veneration for my patron, the first tumult of
my emotion was scarcely subsided, before the old ques-
tion that had excited my conjectures recurred to my
mind, Was he the murderer ? It was a kind of fatal
impulse, that seemed destined to hurry me to my de-
struction. I did not wonder at the disturbance that
was given to Mr. Falkland by any allusion, however
distant, to this fatal affair. That was as completely
accounted for from the consideration of his excessive
sensibility in matters of honour, as it would have been
upon the supposition of the most atrocious guilt.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 167
Knowing, as he did, that such a charge had once been
connected with his name, he would of course be per-
petually uneasy, and suspect some latent insinuation
at every possible opportunity. He would doubt and
fear, lest every man with whom he conversed har-
boured the foulest suspicion against him. In my case
he found that I was in possession of some information,
more than he was aware of, without its being possible
for him to decide to what it amounted, whether I had
heard a just or unjust, a candid or calumniatory tale.
He had also reason to suppose that I gave entertain-
ment to thoughts derogatory to his honour, and that I
did not form that favourable judgment, which the ex-
quisite refinement of his ruling passion made indis-
pensable to his peace. All these considerations would
of course maintain in him a state of perpetual uneasi-
ness. But, though I could find nothing that I could
consider as justifying me in persisting in the shadow of
a doubt, yet, as I have said, the uncertainty and rest-
lessness of my contemplations would by no means de-
part from me.
The fluctuating state of my mind produced a con-
tention of opposite principles, that by turns usurped
dominion over my conduct. Sometimes I was influ-
enced by the most complete veneration for my master >
I placed an unreserved confidence in his integrity and
his virtue, and implicitly surrendered my understanding
for him to set it to what point he pleased. At other
times the confidence, which had before flowed with
the most plenteous tide, began to ebb ; I was, as I had
already been, watchful, inquisitive, suspicious, full of a
thousand conjectures as to the meaning of the most
indifferent actions. Mr. Falkland, who was most pain-
fully alive to every thing that related to his honour,
saw these variations, and betrayed his consciousness of
M 4
168 CALEB WILLIAMS.
them now in one manner, and now in another, fre-
quently before I was myself aware, sometimes almost
before they existed. The situation of both was dis-
tressing ; we were each of us a plague to the other ;
and I often wondered, that the forbearance and benig-
nity of my master was not at length exhausted, and
that he did not determine to thrust from him for ever
so incessant an observer. There was indeed one emi-
nent difference between his share in the transaction
and mine. I had some consolation in the midst of my
restlessness. Curiosity is a principle that carries its
pleasures, as well as its pains, along with it. The mind
is urged by a perpetual stimulus ; it seems as if it were.*
continually approaching to the end of its race ; and as
the insatiable desire of satisfaction is its principle of
conduct, so it promises itself in that satisfaction an
unknown gratification, which seems as if it were ca-
pable of fully compensating any injuries that may be
suffered in the career. But to Mr. Falkland there was
no consolation. What he endured in the intercourse
between us appeared to be gratuitous evil. He had
only to wish that there was no such person as myself
in the world, and to curse the hour when his humanity
led him to rescue me from my obscurity, and place me
in his service.
A consequence produced upon me by the extraor-
dinary nature of my situation it is necessary to mention.
The constant state of vigilance and suspicion in which
my mind was retained, worked a very rapid change hi
my character. It seemed to have all the effect that
might have been expected from years of observation
and experience. The strictness with which I endea-
voured to remark what passed in the mind of one man,
and the variety of conjectures into which I was led,
appeared, as it were, to render me a competent adept
CALEB WILLIAMS. 169
in the different modes in which the human intellect
displays its secret workings. I no longer said to my-
self, as I had done in the beginning, " I will ask Mr.
Falkland whether he were the murderer." On the
contrary, after having carefully examined the different
kinds of evidence of which the subject was susceptible,
and recollecting all that had already passed upon the
subject, it was not without considerable pain, that I
felt myself unable to discover any way in which I could
be perfectly and unalterably satisfied of my patron's
innocence* As to his guilt, I could scarcely bring
myself to doubt that in some way or other, sooner or
later, I should arrive at the knowledge of that, if it
really existed. But I could not endure to think, almost
for a moment, of that side of the alternative as true ;
and with all my ungovernable suspicion arising from
the mysteriousness of the circumstances, and all the
delight which a young and unfledged mind receives
from ideas that give scope to all that imagination can
picture of terrible or sublime, I could not yet bring
myself to consider Mr. Falkland's guilt as a supposition
attended with the remotest probability.
I hope the reader will forgive me for dwelling thus
long on preliminary circumstances. I shall come soon
enough to the story of my own misery. I have already
said, that one of the motives which induced me to the
penning of this narrative, was to console myself in my
insupportable distress. I derive a melancholy pleasure
from dwelling upon the circumstances which imper-
ceptibly paved the way to my ruin. While I recollect
or describe past scenes, which occurred in a more
favourable period of my life, my attention is called off
for a short interval, from the hopeless misfortune in
which I am at present involved. The man must indeed
170 CALEB WILLIAMS.
possess an uncommon portion of hardness of heart, who
can envy me so slight a relief. — To proceed.
For some time after the explanation which had thus
taken place between me and Mr. Falkland, his melan-
choly, instead of being in the slightest degree dimi-
nished by the lenient hand of time, went on perpe-
tually to increase. His fits of insanity — for such I
must denominate them for want of a distinct ap-
pellation, though it is possible they might not fall
under the definition that either the faculty or the court
of chancery appropriate to the term — became stronger
and more durable than ever. It was no longer prac-
ticable wholly to conceal them from the family, and
even from the neighbourhood. He would sometimes,
without any previous notice, absent himself from his
house for two or three days, unaccompanied by servant
or attendant. This was the more extraordinary, as it was
well known that he paid no visits, nor kept up any sort
of intercourse with the gentlemen of the vicinity. But
it was impossible that a man of Mr. Falkland's dis-
tinction and fortune should long continue in such a
practice, without its being discovered what was become
of him ; though a considerable part of our county was
among the wildest and most desolate districts that are
to be found in South Britain. Mr. Falkland was some-
times seen climbing among the rocks, reclining motion-
less for hours together upon the edge of a precipice, or
lulled into a kind of nameless lethargy of despair by
the dashing of the torrents. He would remain for
whole nights together under the naked cope of heaven,
inattentive to the consideration either of place or time ;
insensible to the variations of the weather, or rather
seeming to be delighted with that uproar of the ele-
ments, which partially called off his attention from the
discord and dejection that occupied his own mind.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 171
At first, when we received intelligence at any time
of the place to which Mr. Falkland had withdrawn
himself, some person of his household, Mr. Collins or
myself, but most generally myself, as I was always at
home, and always, in the received sense of the word,
at leisure, went to him to persuade him to return. But,
after a few experiments, we thought it advisable to
desist, and leave him to prolong his absence, or to ter-
minate it, as might happen to suit his own inclination.
Mr. Collins, whose grey hairs and long services seemed
to give him a sort of right to be importunate, some-
times succeeded ; though even in that case there was
nothing that could sit more uneasily upon Mr. Falk-
land than this insinuation as if he wanted a guardian
to take care of him, or as if he were in, or in danger
of falling into, a state in which he would be incapable
of deliberately controlling his own words and actions.
At one time he would suddenly yield to his humble,
venerable friend, murmuring grievously at the con-
straint that was put upon him, but without spirit
enough even to complain of it with energy. At another
time, even though complying, he would suddenly
burst out in a paroxysm of resentment. Upon these
occasions there was something inconceivably, savagely
terrible in his anger, that gave to the person against
whom it was directed the most humiliating and insup-
portable sensations. Me he always treated, at these
times, with fierceness, and drove me from him with a
vehemence lofty, emphatical, and sustained, beyond
any thing of which I should have thought human
nature to be capable. These sallies seemed always to
constitute a sort of crisis in his indisposition; and,
whenever he was induced to such a premature return,
he would fall immediately after into a state of the most
melancholy inactivity, in which he usually continued
172 CALEB WILLIAMS.
for two or three days. It was by an obstinate fatality
that, whenever I saw Mr. Falkland in these deplorable
situations, and particularly when I lighted upon him
after having sought him among the rocks and preci-
pices, pale, emaciated, solitary, and haggard, the sug-
gestion would continually recur to me, in spite of in-
clination, in spite of persuasion, and in spite of evidence,
Surely this man is a murderer I
m CHAPTER V.
IT was in one of the lucid intervals, as I may term,
them, that occurred during this period, that a peasant
was brought before him, in his character of a justice of
peace, upon an accusation of having murdered his
fellow. As Mr. Falkland had by this time acquired
the repute of a melancholy valetudinarian, it is pro-
bable he would not have been called upon to act in his
official character upon the present occasion, had it not
been that two or three of the neighbouring justices were
all of them from home at once, so that he was the only
one to be found in a circuit of many miles. The reader
however must not imagine, though I have employed the
word insanity in describing Mr. Falkland's symptoms,
that he was by any means reckoned for a ma<lman by
Jie generality of those who had occasion to observe him.
It is true that his behaviour, at certain times, was sin-
gular and unaccountable ; but then, at other times,,
there was in it so much dignity, regularity, and eco-
nomy ; he knew so well how to command and make
himself respected ; his actions and carriage were so
condescending, considerate, and benevolent, that, far
CALEB WILLIAMS. 17S
from having forfeited the esteem of the unfortunate or
the many, they were loud and earnest in his praises.
I was present at the examination of this peasant.
The moment I heard of the errand which had brought
this rabble of visitors, a sudden thought struck me. I
conceived the possibility of rendering the incident
subordinate to the great enquiry which drank up all
the currents of my soul. I said, this man is arraigned
of murder, and murder is the master-key that wakes
distemper in the mind of Mr. Falkland. I will watch
him without remission. I will trace all the mazes of
his thought. Surely at such a time his secret anguish
must betray itself. Surely, if it be not my own fault,
I shall now be able to discover the state of his plea
before the tribunal of unerring justice.
I took my station in a manner most favourable to
the object upon which my mind was intent. I could
perceive in Mr. Falkland's features, as he entered, a
strong reluctance to the business in which he was en*
gaged; but there was no possibility of retreating.
His countenance was embarrassed and anxious; he
scarcely saw any body. The examination had not
proceeded far, before he chanced to turn his eye to
the part of the room where I was. It happened in
this as in some preceding instances— -we exchanged a
silent look, by which we told volumes to each other.
Mr. Falkland's complexion turned from red to pale,
and from pale to red. I perfectly understood his
feelings, and would willingly have withdrawn myself.
But it was impossible ; my passions were too deeply
engaged ; I was rooted to the spot ; though my own
life, that of my master, or almost of a whole nation
had been at stake, I had no power to change my
position.
The first surprise however having subsided, Mr.
174? CALEB WILLIAMS.
Falkland assumed a look of determined constancy, and
even seemed to increase in self-possession .much
beyond what could have been expected from his first
entrance. This he could probably have maintained,
had it not been that the scene, instead of being per-
manent, was in some sort perpetually changing. The
man who was brought before him was vehemently
accused by the brother of the deceased as having
acted from the most rooted malice. He swore that
there had been an old grudge between the parties,
and related several instances of it. He affirmed that
the murderer had sought the earliest opportunity of
wreaking his revenge ; had struck the first blow ; and,
though the contest was in appearance only a common
boxing match, had watched the occasion of giving a
fatal stroke, which was followed by the instant death
of his antagonist.
* While the accuser was giving in his evidence, the
accused discovered every token of the most poignant
sensibility. At one time his features were convulsed
with anguish ; tears unbidden trickled down his manly
cheeks; and at another he started with apparent asto-
nishment at the unfavourable turn that was given
to the narrative, though without betraying any impa-
tience to interrupt. I never saw a man less ferocious in
his appearance. He was tall, well made, and comely.
His countenance was ingenuous and benevolent, with-
out folly. By his side stood a young woman, his
sweetheart, extremely agreeable in her person, and
her looks testifying how deeply she interested herself
in the fate of her lover. The accidental spectators
were divided, between indignation against the enor-
mity of the supposed criminal, and compassion for the
poor girl that accompanied him. They seemed to take
little notice of the favourable appearances visible in
CALEB WILLIAMS. 175
the person of the accused, till, in the sequel, those
appearances were more forcibly suggested to their
attention. For Mr. Falkland, he was at one moment
engrossed by curiosity and earnestness to investigate
the tale, while at another he betrayed a son of revul-
sion of sentiment, which made the investigation too
painful for him to support.
When the accused was called upon for his defence,
he readily owned the misunderstanding that had ex-
isted, and that the deceased was the worst enemy he
had in the world. Indeed he was his only enemy, and
he could not tell the reason that had made him so.
He had employed every effort to overcome his ani-
mosity, but in vain. The deceased had upon all oc-
casions sought to mortify him, and do him an ill turn ;
but he had resolved never to be engaged in a broil
with him, and till this day he had succeeded. If he
had met with a misfortune with any other man, people
at least might have thought it accident ; but now it
would always be believed that he had acted from
secret malice and a bad heart.
;• The fact was, that he and his sweetheart had gone
to a neighbouring fair, where this man had met them.
The man had < >i u u tried to affront him ; and his pas-
siveness, interpreted into cowardice, had perhaps en-
couraged the other to additional rudeness. Finding
that he had endured trivial insults to himself with an
even temper, the deceased now thought proper to turn
his brutality upon the young woman that accompanied
him. He pursued them ; he endeavoured in various
manners to harass and vex them ; they had sought in
vain to shake him off. The young woman was consi-
derably terrified. The accused expostulated with
their persecutor, and asked him how he could be so
barbarous as to persist in frightening a woman ? He
176 CALEB WILLIAMS.
replied with an insulting tone, « Then the woman
should find some one able to protect her ; people that
encouraged and trusted to such a thief as that, de-
served no better I" The accused tried every expedient
he could invent; at length he could enduer it no
longer; he became exasperated, and challenged the
assailant. The challenge was accepted ; a ring was
formed ; he confided the care of his sweetheart to a
bystander; and unfortunately the first blow he struck
proved fatal.
The accused added, that he did not care what be-
came of him. He had been anxious to go through the
world in an inoffensive manner, and now he had the
guilt of blood upon him. He did not know but it
would be kindness in them to hang him out of the
way ; for his conscience would reproach him as long
as he lived, and the figure of the deceased, as he had
lain senseless and without motion at his feet, would
perpetually haunt him. The thought of this man,
at one moment full of life and vigour, and the next
lifted a helpless corpse from the ground, and all owing
to him, was a thought too dreadful to be endured.
He had loved the poor maiden, who had been the in*
nocent occasion of this, with all his heart ; but from
this time he should never support the sight of her.
The sight would bring a tribe of fiends in its rear.
One unlucky minute had poisoned all his hopes, and
made life a burden to him. Saying this, his counte-
nance fell, the muscles^of his face trembled with agony,
and he looked the statue of despair.
This was the story of which Mr. Falkland was called
upon to be the auditor. Though the incidents were,
for the most part, wide of those which belonged to the
adventures of the preceding volume, and there had
been much less policy and skill displayed on either
i
CALEB WILLIAMS. 177
part in this rustic encounter, yet there were many
points which, to a man who bore the former strongly
in his recollection, suggested a sufficient resemblance.
In each case it was a human brute persisting in a
course of hostility to a man of benevolent character,
and suddenly and terribly cut off in the midst of his
career. These points perpetually smote upon the
heart of Mr. Falkland. He at one time started with
astonishment, and at another shifted his posture, like a
man who is unable longer to endure the sensations
that press upon him. Then he new strung his nerves
to stubborn patience. I could see, while his muscles
preserved an inflexible steadiness, tears of anguish
roll down his cheeks. He dared not trust his eyes to
glance towards the side of the room where I stood ;
and this gave an air of embarrassment to his whole
figure. But when the accused came to speak of his
feelings, to describe the depth of his compunction for
an involuntary fault, he could endure it no longer. He
suddenly rose, and with every mark of horror and de-
spair rushed out of the room.
This circumstance made no material difference in
the affair of the accused. The parties were detained
about half an hour. Mr. Falkland had already heard
the material parts of the evidence in person. At the
expiration of that interval, he sent for Mr. Collins out
of the room. The story of the culprit was confirmed
by many witnesses who had seen the transaction.
Word was brought that my master was indisposed ;
and, at the same time, the accused was ordered to be
discharged. The vengeance of the brother however,
as I afterwards found, did not rest here, and he met
with a magistrate, more scrupulous or more despotic,
by whom the culprit was committed for trial.
This affair was no sooner concluded, than I hast-
N
178 CALEB WILLIAMS.
ened into the garden, and plunged into the deepest of
its thickets. My mind was full, almost to bursting.
I no sooner conceived myself sufficiently removed from
all observation, than my thoughts forced their way
spontaneously to my tongue, and I exclaimed, in a fit
of uncontrollable enthusiasm, " This is the murderer;
the Hawkinses were innocent ! I am sure of it ! I
will pledge my life for it ! It is out I It is discovered !
Guilty, upon my soul ! "
While I thus proceeded with hasty steps along the
most secret paths of the garden, and from time to time
gave vent to the tumult of my thoughts in involuntary
exclamations, I felt as if my animal system had under-
gone a total revolution. My blood boiled within me.
I was conscious to a kind of rapture for which I could
not account. I was solemn, yet full of rapid emotion,
burning with indignation and energy. In the very
tempest and hurricane of the passions, I seemed to
enjoy the most soul-ravishing calm. I cannot better
express the then state of my mind than by saying, I
was never so perfectly alive as at that moment.
This state of mental elevation continued for several
hours, but at length subsided, and gave place to more
deliberate reflection. One of the first questions that
then occurred was, what shall I do with the knowledge
I have been so eager to acquire? I had no inclination
to turn informer. I felt what I had had no previous
conception of, that it was possible to love a murderer,
and, as I then understood it, the worst of murderers.
I conceived it to be in the highest degree absurd and
iniquitous, to cut off a man qualified for the most
essential and extensive utility, merely out of retrospect
to an act which, whatever were its merits, could not
be retrieved.
This thought led me to another, which had at first
CALEB WILLIAMS. 179
passed unnoticed. If I hud been disposed to turn in-
former, what had occurred amounted to no evidence
that was admissible in a court of justice. Well then,
added I, if it be such as would not be admitted at a
criminal tribunal, am I sure it is such as I ought to
admit? There were twenty persons besides myself
present at the scene from which I pretend to derive
such entire conviction. Not one of them saw it in the
light that I did. It either appeared to them a casual
and unimportant circumstance, or they thought it suf-
ficiently accounted for by Mr. Falkland's infirmity and
misfortunes. Did it really contain such an extent of
arguments and application, that nobody but I was dis-
cerning enough to see?
But all this reasoning produced no alteration in my
way of thinking. For this time I could not get it out
of my mind for a moment : •• Mr. Falkland is the mur-
derer ! He is guilty ! I see it I I feel it ! I am sure of
it!" Thus was I hurried along by an uncontrollable
destiny. The state of my passions in their progressive
career, the inquisitiveness and impatience of my
thoughts, appeared to make this determination un-
avoidable.
An incident occurred while I was in the garden, that
seemed to make no impression upon me at the time,
but which I recollected when my thoughts were got
into somewhat of a slower motion. In the midst of
one of my paroxysms of exclamation, and when I
thought myself most alone, the shadow of a man as
avoiding me passed transiently by me at a small dis-
tance. Though I had scarcely caught a faint glimpse
of his person, there was something in the occurrence
that persuaded me it was Mr. Falkland. I shuddered
at the possibility of his having overheard the words of
my soliloquy. But this idea, alarming as it was, had
N 2
180 CALEB WILLIAMS.
not power immediately to suspend the career of my re-?
flections. Subsequent circumstances however brought
back the apprehension to my mind. I had scarcely a
doubt of its reality, when dinner-time came, and Mr.
Falkland was not to be found. Supper and bed-time
passed in the same manner. The only conclusion made
by his servants upon this circumstance was, that he was
gone upon one of his accustomed melancholy rambles.
CHAPTER VI.
THE period at which my story is now arrived seemed
as if it were the very crisis of the fortune of Mr. Falk-
land. Incident followed upon incident, in a kind of
breathless succession. About nine o'clock the next
morning an alarm was given, that one of the chimneys
of the house was on fire. No accident could be appa-
rently more trivial ; but presently it blazed with such
fury, as to make it clear that some beam of the house,
which in the first building had been improperly placed,
had been reached by the flames. Some danger was
apprehended for the whole edifice. The confusion
was the greater, in consequence of the absence of the
master, as well as of Mr. Collins, the steward. While
some of the domestics were employed in endeavouring
to extinguish the flames, it was thought proper that
others should busy themselves in removing the most
valuable moveables to a lawn in the garden. I took
some command in the affair, to which indeed my station
in the family seemed to entitle me, and for which I
was judged qualified by my understanding and mental
resources.
Having given some general directions, I conceived,
CALEB WILLIAMS.
181
that it was not enough to stand by and superintend,
but that 1 should contribute my personal labour in the
public concern. I set out for that purpose ; and my
steps, by some mysterious fatality, were directed to the
private apartment at the end of the library. Here, as
I looked round, my eye was suddenly caught by the
trunk mentioned in the first pages of my narrative.
My mind was already raised to its utmost pitch. In
a window-seat of the room lay a number of chisels and
other carpenter's tools. I know not what infatuation
instantaneously seized me. The idea was too powerful
to be resisted. I forgot the business upon which I
came, the employment of the servants, and the urgency
of general danger. I should have done the same if the
flames that seemed to extend as they proceeded, and
already surmounted the house, had reached this very
apartment. I snatched a tool suitable for the purpose,
threw myself upon the ground, and applied with eager-
ness to a magazine which inclosed all for which ray
heart panted. After two or three efforts, in which the
energy of uncontrollable passion was added to my bodily
strength, the fastenings gave way, the trunk opened,
and all that I sought was at once within my reach.
I was in the act of lifting up the lid, when Mr.
Falkland entered, wild, breathless, distracted in his
looks ! He had been brought home from a considerable
distance by the sight of the flames. At the moment of
his appearance the lid dropped down from my hand.
He no sooner saw me than his eyes emitted sparks of
rage. He ran with eagerness to a brace of loaded
pistols which hung in the room, and, seizing one, pre-
sented it to my head I saw his design, and sprang to
avoid it ; but, witn tne same rapidity with which he had
formed his resolution, he changed it, and instantly went
to the window, and flung the pistol into the court below.
N3
182 CALEB WILLIAMS.
He bade me begone with his usual irresistible energy ;
and, overcome as I was already by the horror of the
detection, I eagerly complied.
A moment after, a considerable part of the chimney
tumbled with noise into the court below, and a voice
exclaimed that the fire was more violent than ever.
These circumstances seemed to produce a mechanical
effect upon my patron, who, having first locked the
closet, appeared on the outside of the house, ascended
the roof, and was in a moment in every place where his
presence was required. The flames were at length
extinguished.
The reader can with difficulty form a conception of
the state to which I was now reduced. My act was
in some sort an act of insanity; but how undescribable
are the feelings with which I looked back upon it ! It
was an instantaneous impulse, a short-lived and passing
alienation of mind ; but what must Mr. Falkland th ink
of that alienation? To any man a person who had
once shown himself capable of so wild a flight of the
mind, must appear dangerous : how must he appear to
a man under Mr. Falkland's circumstances ? I had just
had a pistol held to my head, by a man resolved to put
a period to my existence. That indeed was past ; but
what was it that fate had yet in reserve for me ! The
insatiable vengeance of a Falkland, of a man whose
hands were, to my apprehension, red with blood, and
his thoughts familiar with cruelty and murder. Hew
great were the resources of his mind, resources hence-
forth to be confederated for my destruction I This was
the termination of an ungoverned curiosity, an impulse
that I had represented to myself as so innocent or so
venial.
In the high tide of boiling passion I had overlooked
all consequences. It now appeared to me like a dream.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 183
Is it in man to leap from the high-raised precipice, or
rush unconcerned into the midst of flames ? Was it
possible I could have forgotten for a moment the awe-
creating manners of Falkland, and the inexorable fury
I should awake in his soul ? No thought of future
security had reached my mind. I had acted upon no
plan. I had conceived no means of concealing my
deed, after it had once been effected. But it was over
now. One short minute had effected a reverse in my
situation, the suddenness of which the history of man,
perhaps is unable to surpass.
I have always been at a loss to account for my having
plunged thus headlong into an act so monstrous. There
is something in it of unexplained and involuntary sym-
pathy. One sentiment flows, by necessity of nature,
into another sentiment of the same general character.
This was the first instance in which I had witnessed a
danger by fire. All was confusion around me, and all
changed into hurricane within. The general situation,
to my unpractised apprehension, appeared desperate,
and I by contagion became alike desperate. At first I
had been in some degree calm and collected, but that
too was a desperate effort ; and when it gave way, a
kind of instant insanity became its successor.
I had now every thing to fear. And yet what was
my fault? It proceeded from none of those errors
which are justly held up to the aversion of mankind ;
my object had been neither wealth, nor the means of
indulgence, nor the usurpation of power. No spark of
malignity had harboured in my soul. I had always
reverenced the sublime mind of Mr. Falkland ; I reve-
renced it still. My offence had merely been a mistaken
thirst of knowledge. Such however it was, as to admit
neither of forgiveness nor remission. This epoch was
the crisis of my fate, dividing what may be called the
N 4
184? CALEB WILLIAMS.
offensive part from the defensive, which has been the
sole business of my remaining years. Alas ! my offence
was short, not aggravated by any sinister intention :
but the reprisals I was to suffer are long, and can ter-
minate only with my life !
In the state in which I found myself, when the
recollection of what I had done flowed back upon my
mind, I was incapable of any resolution. All was chaos
and uncertainty within me. My thoughts were too
full of horror to be susceptible of activity. I felt de-
serted of my intellectual powers, palsied in mind, and
compelled to sit in speechless expectation of the misery
to which I was destined. To my own conception I
was like a man, who, though blasted with lightning, and
deprived for ever of the power of motion, should yet
retain the consciousness of his situation. Death-
dealing despair was the only idea of which I was
sensible.
I was still in this situation of mind when Mr. Falk-
land sent for me. His message roused me from my
trance. In recovering, I felt those sickening and loath-
some sensations, which a man may be supposed at first
to endure who should return from the sleep of death.
Gradually I recovered the power of arranging my
ideas and directing my steps. I understood, that the
minute the affair of the fire was over Mr. Falkland had
retired to his own room. It was evening before he
ordered me to be called.
I found in him every token of extreme distress, ex-
cept that there was an air of solemn and sad composure
that crowned the whole. For the present, all appear-
ance of gloom, stateliness, and austerity was gone. As
I entered he looked up, and, seeing who it was, ordered
me to bolt the door. I obeyed. He went round the
room, and examined its other avenues. He then re-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 185
turned to where I stood. I trembled in every joint of
my frame. I exclaimed within myself, " What scene
of death has Roscius now to act ? "
" Williams 1 " said he, in a tone which had more in
it of sorrow than resentment, " I have attempted your
life I I am a wretch devoted to the scorn and exe-
cration of mankind !" There he stopped.
•• If there be one being on the whole earth that
feels the scorn and execration due to such a wretch
more strongly than another, it is myself. I have been
kept in a state of perpetual torture and madness. But
I can put an end to it and its consequences ; and, so
far at least as relates to you, I am determined to do it.
I know the price, and — I will make the purchase.
" You must swear," said he. " You must attest
every sacrament, divine and human, never to disclose
what I am now to tell you." — He dictated the oath,
and I repeated it with an aching heart. I had no power
to offer a word of remark.
" This confidence," said he, " is of your seeking,
not of mine. It is odious to me, and is dangerous to
you."
Having thus prefaced the disclosure he had to make,
he paused. He seemed to collect himself as for an
effort of magnitude. He wiped his face with his hand-
kerchief. Tin- moisture that incommoded him appeared
not to be tears, but sweat.
" Look at me. Observe me. Is it not strange that
such a one as I should retain lineaments of a human
creature ? I am the blackest of villains. I am the
murderer of Tyrrel. I am the assassin of the Hawk-
inses."
I started with terror, and was silent.
" What a story is mine I Insulted, disgraced, pol-
luted in the face of hundreds, I was capable of any
186
CALEB WILLIAMS.
act of desperation. I watched my opportunity, fol-
lowed Mr. Tyrrel from the rooms, seized a sharp-
pointed knife that fell in my way, came behind him,
and stabbed him to the heart. My gigantic oppressor
rolled at my feet.
" All are but links of one chain. A blow I A mur-
der ! My next business was to defend myself, to tell
so well-digested a lie as that all mankind should be-
lieve it true. Never was a task so harrowing and
intolerable !
" Well, thus far fortune favoured me ; she favoured
me beyond my desire. The guilt was removed from
me, and cast upon another; but this I was to endure.
Whence came the circumstantial evidence against him,
the broken knife and the blood, I am unable to tell. I
suppose, by some miraculous accident, Hawkins was
passing by, and endeavoured to assist his oppressor in
the agonies of death. You have heard his story ; you
have read one of his letters. But you do not know
the thousandth part of the proofs of his simple and un-
alterable rectitude that I have known. His son suffered
with him ; that son, for the sake of whose happiness
and virtue he ruined himself, and would have died a
hundred times. — I have had feelings, but I cannot de-
scribe them.
" This it is to be a gentleman ! a man of honour !
1 was the fool of fame. My virtue, my honesty, my
everlasting peace of mind, were cheap sacrifices to be
made at the shrine of this divinity. But, what is worse,
there is nothing that has happened that has in any
degree contributed to my cure. I am as much the fool
of fame as ever. I cling to it to my last breath.
Though I be the blackest of villains, I will leave
behind me a spotless and illustrious name. There is
no crime so malignant, no scene of blood so horrible,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 18?
in which that object cannot engage me. It is no
matter that I regard these things at a distance with
aversion; 1 am sure of it ; bring me to the test, and
I shall yield. I despise myself, but thus I am ; things
are gone too far to be recalled.
•• \Vhy is it that I am compelled to this confidence?
From the love of fame. I should tremble at the sight
of every pistol or instrument of death that offered itself
to my hands ; and perhaps my next murder may not
be so fortunate as those I have already committed.
I had no alternative but to make you my confidant or
my victim. It was better to trust you with the whole
truth under every seal of secrecy, than to live in per-
petual fear of your penetration or your rashness.
" Do you know what it is you have done? To gratify
a foolishly inquisitive humour, you have sold yourself.
You shall continue in my service, but can never share
my affection. I will benefit you in respect of fortune,
but I shall always hate you. If ever an unguarded word
escape from your lips, if ever you excite my jealousy
or suspicion, expect to pay for it by your death or
worse. It is a dear bargain you have made. But it
is too late to look back. I charge and adjure you by
every thing that is sacred, and that is tremendous,
preserve your faith !
" My tongue has now for the first time for several
years spoken the language of my heart ; and the in-
tercourse from this hour shall be shut for ever. I want
no pity. I desire no consolation. Surrounded as I am
with horrors, I will at least preserve my fortitude to
the last If I had been reserved to a different destiny
I have qualities in that respect worthy of a better
cause. I can be mad, miserable, and frantic ; but even
in frenzy I can preserve my presence of mind and
discretion."
188 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Such was the story I had been so desirous to know.
Though my mind had brooded upon the subject for
months, there was not a syllable of it that did not come
to my ear with the most perfect sense of novelty.
" Mr. Falkland is a murderer ! " said I, as I retired
from the conference. This dreadful appellative, " a
murderer," made my very blood run cold within me.
" He killed Mr. Tyrrel, for he could not control his
resentment and anger : he sacrificed Hawkins the elder
and Hawkins the younger, because he could upon no
terms endure the public loss of honour : how can I
expect that a man thus passionate and unrelenting will
not sooner or later make me his victim ? "
But, notwithstanding this terrible application of the
story, an application to which perhaps in some form
or other, mankind are indebted for nine tenths of their
abhorrence against vice, I could not help occasionally
recurring to reflections of an opposite nature. " Mr.
Falkland is a murderer ! " resumed I. " He might yet
be a most excellent man, if he did but think so." It is
the thinking ourselves vicious then, that principally
contributes to make us vicious.
Amidst the shock I received from finding, what I
had never suffered myself constantly to believe, that my
suspicions were true, I still discovered new cause 01
admiration for my master. His menaces indeed were
terrible. But, when I recollected the offence I -had
given, so contrary to every received principle of civi-
'ised society, so insolent and rude, so intolerable to a
nan of Mr. Falkland's elevation, and in Mr. Falkland's
peculiarity of circumstances, I was astonished at his
.forbearance. There were indeed sufficiently obvious
reasons why he might not choose to proceed to ex-
tremities with me. But how different from the fearful
expectations I had conceived were the calmness of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 189
his behaviour, and the regulated mildness of his
language I In this respect, I for a short time imagined
that I was emancipated from the mischiefs which had
appalled me ; and that, in having to do with a man of
Mr. Falkland's liberality, I had nothing rigorous to
apprehend.
" It is a miserable prospect," said I, " that he holds
up to me. He imagines that I am restrained by no
principles, and deaf to the claims of personal excel-
lence. But he shall find himself mistaken. I will
never become an informer. I will never injure my
patron; and therefore he will not be my enemy.
With all his misfortunes and all his errors, I feel that my
goul yearns for his welfare. If he have been criminal,
that is owing to circumstances ; the same qualities
under other circumstances would have been, or rather
were, sublimely beneficent."
My reasonings were, no doubt, infinitely more
favourable to Mr. Falkland, than those which human
beings are accustomed to make in the case of such as
they style great criminals. This will not be wondered
at, when it is considered that I had myself just been
trampling on the established boundaries of obligation,
and therefore might well have a fellow-feeling for
other offenders. Add to which, I had known Mr.
Falkland from the first as a beneficent divinity. I had
observed at leisure, and with a minuteness which could
not deceive me, the excellent qualities of his heart ;
and I found him possessed of a mind beyond com-
parison the most fertile and accomplished I had ever
known.
But though the terrors which had impressed me
were considerably alleviated, my situation was not-
withstanding sufficiently miserable. The ease and
light-heartedness of my youth were for ever gone.
190 CALEB WILLIAMS.
The voice of an irresistible necessity had commanded
me to " sleep no more." I was tormented with a secret,
of which I must never disburthen myself; and this
consciousness was, at my age, a source of perpetual
melancholy. I had made myself a prisoner, in the
most intolerable sense of that term, for years — perhaps
for the rest of my life. Though my prudence and dis-
cretion should be invariable, I must remember that I
should have an overseer, vigilant from conscious guilt,
full of resentment at the unjustifiable means by which
I had extorted from him a confession, and whose
lightest caprice might at any time decide upon every
thing that was dear to me. The vigilance even
of a public and systematical despotism is poor, com-
pared with a vigilance which is thus goaded by the
most anxious passions of the soul. Against this species
of persecution I knew not how to invent a refuge. I
dared neither fly from the observation of Mr. Falkland,
nor continue exposed to its operation. I was at first
indeed lulled in a certain degree to security upon the
verge of the precipice. But it was not long before I
found a thousand circumstances perpetually reminding
me of my true situation. Those I am now to relate
are among the most memorable.
CHAPTER VII.
IN no long time after the disclosure Mr. Falkland had
made, Mr. Forester, his elder brother by the mother's
side, came to reside for a short period in our family.
This was a circumstance peculiarly adverse to my
patron's habits and inclinations. He had broken off, as
I have already said, all intercourse of visiting with his
CALEB WILLIAMS. 191
neighbours. He debarred himself every kind of amuse-
ment and relaxation. He shrunk from the society of
his fellows, and thought he could never be sufficiently
buried in obscurity and solitude. This principle was,
in most cases, of no difficult execution to a man of
firmness. But Mr. Falkland knew not how to avoid
the visit of Mr. Forester. This gentleman was just
returned from a residence of several years upon the
continent ; and his demand of an apartment in the house
of his half-brother, till his own house at the distance
of thirty miles should be prepared for his reception,
was made with an air of confidence that scarcely ad-
mitted of a refusal. Mr. Falkland could only allege,
that the state of his health and spirits was such, that
he feared a residence at his house would be little agree-
able to his kinsman ; and Mr. Forester conceived that
this was a disqualification which would always augment
in proportion as it was tolerated, and hoped that his
society, by inducing Mr. Falkland to suspend his habits
of seclusion, would be the means of essential benefit.
Mr. Falkland opposed him no further. He would have
been sorry to be thought unkind to a kinsman for
whom he had a particular esteem ; and the conscious-
ness of not daring to assign the true reason, made him
cautious of adhering to his objection.
The character of Mr. Forester was, in many respects,
the reverse of that of my master. His very appear-
ance indicated the singularity of his disposition. His
figure was short and angular. His eyes were sunk far
into his head, and were overhung with eye-brows,
black, thick, and bushy. His complexion was swarthy,
and his lineaments hard. He had seen much of the
world ; but, to judge of him from his appearance and
manners, one would have thought that he had never
moved from his fire-side.
192 CALEB WILLIAMS.
His temper was acid, petulant, and harsh. He was
easily offended by trifles, respecting which, previously
to the offence, the persons with whom he had inter-
course could have no suspicion of such a result. When
offended, his customary behaviour was exceedingly
rugged. He thought only of setting the delinquent
right, and humbling him for his error; and, in his
eagerness to do this, overlooked the sensibility of the
sufferer, and the pains he inflicted. Remonstrance in
such a case he regarded as the offspring of cowardice,
which was to be extirpated with a steady and unshrink-
ing hand, and not soothed with misjudging kindness
and indulgence. As is usual in human character, he
had formed a system of thinking to suit the current of
his feelings. He held that the kindness we entertain
for a man should be veiled and concealed, exerted in
substantial benefits, but not disclosed, lest an undue
advantage should be taken of it by its object.
With this rugged outside, Mr. Forester had a warm
and generous heart. At first sight all men were deterred
by his manner, and excited to give him an ill character.
But the longer any one knew him, the more they
approved him. His harshness was then only considered
as habit ; and strong sense and active benevolence
were uppermost in the recollection of his familiar
acquaintance. His conversation, when he condescended
to lay aside his snappish, rude, and abrupt half-sentences,
became flowing in diction, and uncommonly amusing
with regard to its substance. He combined, with
weightiness of expression, a dryness of characteristic
humour, that demonstrated at once the vividness of his
observation, and the force of his understanding.
The peculiarities of this gentleman's character were
not undisplayed in the scene to which he was now
introduced. Having much kindness in his disposition,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 193
he soon became deeply interested in the unhappiness
of his relation. He did every thing in his power to
remove it ; but his attempts were rude and unskilful.
With a mind so accomplished and a spirit so suscep-
tible as that of Mr. Falkland, Mr. Forester did not
venture to let loose his usual violence of manner ; but,
it' lie carefully abstained from harshness, he was how-
ever wholly incapable of that sweet and liquid eloquence
of the soul, which would perhaps have stood the fairest
chance of seducing Mr. Falkland for a moment to forget
his anguish. He exhorted his host to rouse up his
spirit, and defy the foul fiend ; but the tone of his
exhortations found no sympathetic chord in the mind
of my patron. He had not the skill to carry conviction
to an understanding so well fortified in error. In a
word, after a thousand efforts of kindness to his enter-
tainer, he drew off his forces, growling and dissatisfied
with his own impotence, rather than angry at the
obstinacy of Mr. Falkland. He felt no diminution of
his affection for him, and was sincerely grieved to find
that he was so little capable of serving him. Both
parties in this case did justice to the merits of the
other; at the same time that the disparity of their
humours was such, as to prevent the stranger from
being in any degree a dangerous companion to the
master of the house. They had scarcely one point of
contact in their characters. Mr. Forester was incapable
of giving Mr. Falkland that degree either of pain or
pleasure, which can raise the soul into a tumult, and
deprive it for a while of tranquillity and self-command.
Our visitor was a man, notwithstanding appearances,
of a peculiarly sociable disposition, and, where he was
neither interrupted nor contradicted, considerably lo-
quacious. He began to feel himself painfully out of
his element upon the present occasion. Mr. Falkland
o
194- CALEB WILLIAMS.
was devoted to contemplation and solitude. He put
upon himself some degree of restraint upon the arrival
of his kinsman, though even then his darling habits
would break out. But when they had seen each other
a certain number of times, and it was sufficiently
evident that the society of either would be a burthen
rather than a pleasure to the other, they consented, by
a sort of silent compact, that each should be at liberty
to follow his own inclination. Mr. Falkland was, in a
sense,' the greatest gainer by this. He returned to the
habits of his choice, and acted, as nearly as possible,
just as he would have done if Mr. Forester had not
been in existence. But the latter was wholly at a loss.
He had all the disadvantages of retirement, without
being able, as he might have done at his house, to bring
his own associates or his own amusements about him.
In this situation he cast his eyes upon me. It was
his principle to do every thing that his thoughts sug-
gested, without caring for the forms of the world. He
saw no reason why a peasant, with certain advantages
of education and opportunity, might not be as eligible
a companion as a lord ; at the same time that he was
deeply impressed with the venerableness of old insti-
tutions. Reduced as he was to a kind of last resort,
he found me better qualified for his purpose than any
other of Mr. Falkland's household.
The manner in which he began this sort of corre-
spondence was sufficiently characteristical. It was abrupt;
but it was strongly stamped with essential benevolence.
It was blunt and humorous ; but there was attractive-
ness, especially in a case of unequal intercourse, in that
very rusticity by which he levelled himself with the
mass of his species. He had to reconcile himself as
well as to invite me ; not to reconcile himself to the
postponing an aristocratical vanity, for of that he had a
CALEB WILLIAMS. 195
very slender portion, but to the trouble of invitation,
for he loved his ease. All this produced some irregu-
larity and indecision in his own mind, and gave a
whimsical impression to his behaviour.
On my part, I was by no means ungrateful for the
distinction that was paid me. My mind had been
relaxed into temporary dejection, but my reserve had
no alloy of moroseness or insensibility. It did not long
hold out against the condescending attentions of Mr.
Forester. I became gradually heedful, encouraged,
confiding. I had a most eager thirst for the know-
ledge of mankind ; and though no person perhaps ever
purchased so dearly the instructions he received in
that school, the inclination was in no degree diminished.
Mr. Forester was the second man I had seen uncom-
monly worthy of my analysis, and who seemed to my
thoughts, arrived as I was at the end of my first essay,
almost as much deserving to be studied as Mr. Falk-
land himself. I was glad to escape from the uneasiness
of my reflections ; and, while engaged with this new
friend, I forgot the criticalness of the evils with which
I was hourly menaced.
Stimulated by these feelings, I was what Mr.
Forester wanted, a diligent and zealous hearer. I was
strongly susceptible of impression ; and the alternate
impressions my mind received, visibly displayed them-
selves in my countenance and gestures. The observ-
ations Mr. Forester had made in his travels, the set
of opinions he had formed, all amused and interested
me. His manner of telling a story, or explaining his
thoughts, was forcible, perspicuous, and original : his
style in conversation had an uncommon zest Every
thing he had to relate delighted me ; while, in return,
my sympathy, my eager curiosity, and my unsophisti-
cated passions, rendered me to Mr. Forester a most
o 2
196 CALEB WILLIAMS.
desirable hearer. It is not to be wondered at there-
fore, that every day rendered our intercourse more
intimate and cordial.
Mr. Falkland was destined to be for ever unhappy;
and it seemed as if no new incident could occur, from
which he was not able to extract food for this impe-
rious propensity. He was wearied with a perpetual
repetition of similar impressions; and entertained an
invincible disgust against all that was new. The visit
of Mr. Forester he regarded with antipathy. He was
scarcely able to look at him without shuddering; an
emotion which his guest perceived, and pitied as the
result of habit and disease, rather than of judgment.
None of his actions passed unremarked ; the most in-
different excited uneasiness and apprehension. The
first overtures of intimacy between me and Mr. Forester
probably gave birth to sentiments of jealousy in the
mind of my master. The irregular, variable character
of his visitor tended to heighten them, by producing
an appearance of inexplicableness and mystery. Atthis
time he intimated to me that it was not agreeable to
him, that there should be much intercourse between
me and this gentleman.
What could I do? Young as I was, could it be
expected that I should play the philosopher, and put
a perpetual curb upon my inclinations? Imprudent
though I had been, could I voluntarily subject myself
to an eternal penance, and estrangement from human
society ? Could I discourage a frankness so perfectly
in consonance with my wishes, and receive in an
ung acious way a kindness that stole away my heart?
Besides this, I was but ill prepared for the servile
submission Mr. Falkland demanded. In early life I had
been accustomed to be much my own master. When I
first entered into Mr. Falkland's service, my personal
CALEB WILLIAMS. 197
habits were checked by the novelty of my situation,
and my affections were gained by the high accomplish*
ments of my patron. To novelty and its influence,
curiosity had succeeded: curiosity, so long as it lasted,
was a principle stronger in my bosom than even the
love of independence. To that I would have sacrificed
my liberty or my life; to gratify it, I would have sub-
mitted to the condition of a West Indian negro, or to
the tortures inflicted by North American savages. But
the turbulence of curiosity had now subsided.
As long as the threats of Mr. Falkland had been
confined to generals, I endured it. I was conscious of
the unbecoming action I had committed, and this ren-
dered me humble. But, when he went further, and
undertook to prescribe to every article of my conduct,
my patience was at an end. My mind, before suf-
ficiently sensible to the unfortunate situation to which
my imprudence had reduced me, now took a nearer
and a more alarming view of the circumstances of the
case. Mr. Falkland was not an old man ; he had in
him the principles of vigour, however they might seem
to be shaken ; he might live as long as I should. I
was his prisoner ; and what a prisoner ! All my actions
observed; all my gestures marked. I could move
neither to the right nor the left, but the eye of my
keeper was upon me. He watched me ; and his vigi-
lance was a sickness to my heart. For me there was
no more freedom, no more of hilarity, of thoughtless-
ness, or of youth. Was this the life upon which I
had entered with such warm and sanguine expectation ?
Were my days to be wasted in this cheerless gloom ; a
galley-slave in the hands of the system of nature, whom
death only, the death of myself or ray inexorable supe-
rior, could free ?
I had been adventurous in the gratification of an
o 3
198 CALEB WILLIAMS.
infantine and unreasonable curiosity; and I resolved
not to be less adventurous, if need were, in the defence
of every thing that can make life a blessing. I was
prepared for an amicable adjustment of interests : I
would undertake that Mr. Falkland should never
sustain injury through my means; but I expected in
return that I should suffer no encroachment, but be
left to the direction of my own understanding.
I went on, then, to seek Mr. Forester's society with
eagerness; and it is the nature of an intimacy that
does not decline, progressively to increase. Mr. Falk-
land observed these symptoms'with visible perturbation.
Whenever I was conscious of their being perceived
by him, I betrayed tokens of confusion : this did not
tend to allay his uneasiness. One day he spoke to
me alone ; and, with a look of mysterious but terrible
import, expressed himself thus : —
" Young man, take warning ! Perhaps this is the
last time you shall have an opportunity to take it !
I will not always be the butt of your simplicity and
inexperience, nor suffer your weakness to triumph
over my strength ! Why do you trifle with me ? You
little suspect the extent of my power. At this moment
you are enclosed with the snares of my vengeance
unseen by you, and, at the instant that you flatter your-
self you are already beyond their reach, they will close
upon you. You might as well think of escaping from
the power of the omnipresent God, as from mine ! If
you could touch so much as my finger, you should
expiate it in hours and months and years of a torment,
of which as yet you have not the remotest idea. Re-
member ! I am not talking at random ! I do not utter
a word, that, if you provoke me, shall not be executed
to the severest letter ! "
It may be supposed that these menaces were not
CALEB WILLIAMS. 199
without their effect. I withdrew in silence. My whole
soul revolted against the treatment I endured, and
yet I could not utter a word. Why could not I speak
the expostulations of my heart, or propose the com-
promise I meditated? It was inexperience, and not
want of strength, that awed me. Every act of Mr.
Falkland contained -unit -tliim: new, and 1 was unpre-
pared to meet it. Perhaps it will be found that the
greatest hero owes the propriety of his conduct to the
habit of encountering difficulties, and calling out with
promptness the energies of his mind.
I contemplated the proceedings of my patron with
the deepest astonishment. Humanity and general
kindness were fundamental parts of his character ; but
in relation to me they were sterile and inactive. His
own interest required that he should purchase my kind-
ness ; but he preferred to govern me by terror, and
watch me with unceasing anxiety. I ruminated with
Uie most mournful sensations upon the nature of my
calamity. I believed that no human being was ever
placed in a situation so pitiable as mine. Every atom
of my frame seemed to have a several existence, and
to crawl within me. I had but too much reason to
believe that Mr. Falkland's threats were not empty
words. I knew his ability ; I felt his ascendancy. If
I encountered him, what chance had I of victory ? If
I were defeated, what was the penalty I had to suffer ?
Well then, the rest of my life must be devoted to slavish
subjection. Miserable sentence ! And, if it were, what
security had I against the injustice of a man, vigilant,
capricious, and criminal? 1 envied the condemned
wretch upon the scaffold; I envied the victim of the
inquisition in the midst of his torture. They know
what they have to suffer. I had only to imagine everj
200 CALEB WILLIAMS.
thing terrible, and then say, " The fate reserved for me
is worse than this ! "
It was well for me that these sensations were tran-
sient : human nature could not long support itself under
what I then felt. By degrees my mind shook off its
burthen. Indignation succeeded to emotions of terror.
The hostility of Mr. Falkland excited hostility in me.
I determined I would never calumniate him in matters
of the most trivial import, much less betray the grand
secret upon which every thing dear to him depended.
But, totally abjuring the offensive, I resolved to stand
firmly upon the defensive. The liberty of acting as I
pleased I would preserve, whatever might be the risk.
If I were worsted in the contest, I would at least have
the consolation of reflecting that I had exerted myself
with energy. In proportion as I thus determined, I
drew off my forces from petty incursions, and felt the
propriety of acting with premeditation and system. I
ruminatetl incessantly upon plans of deliverance, but I
was anxious that my choice should not be precipitately
made.
It was during this period of my deliberation and
uncertainty that Mr. Forester terminated his visit. He
observed a strange distance in my behaviour, and, in
his good-natured, rough way, reproached me for it. I
could only answer with a gloomy look of mysterious
import, and a mournful and expressive silence. He
sought me for an explanation, but I was now as inge-
nious in avoiding as I had before been ardent to seek
him ; and he quitted our house, as he afterwards told
me, with an impression, that there was some ill destiny
that hung over it, which seemed fated to make all its
inhabitants miserable, without its being possible for a
by-stander to penetrate the reason.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 201
CHAPTER VIII.
MR. FORESTER had left us about three weeks, when
Mr. Falkland sent me upon some business to an estate
he possessed in a neighbouring county, about fifty
miles from his principal residence. The road led in a
direction wholly wide of the habitation of our late
visitor. I was upon my return from the place to which
I had been sent, when I began in fancy to take a survey
of the various circumstances of my condition, and by
degrees lost, in the profoundness of my contemplation,
all attention to the surrounding objects. The first
determination of my mind was to escape from the
lynx-eyed jealousy and despotism of Mr. Falkland ; the
second to provide, by every effort of prudence and
deliberation I could devise, against the danger with
which I well knew my attempt must be accompanied.
Occupied with these meditations, I rode many miles
before I perceived that I had totally deviated from the
right path. At length I roused myself, and surveyed
the horizon round me; but I could observe nothing with
which my organ was previously acquainted. On three
sides, the heath stretched as far as the eye could reach ;
on the fourth, I discovered at some distance a wood of
no ordinary dimensions. Before me, scarcely a single
track could be found, to mark that any human being
had ever visited the spot As the best expedient I
could devise, I bent my course towards the wood I have
mentioned, and then pursued, as well as I was able, the
windings of the inclosure. This led me, after some
time, to the end of the heath ; but I was still as much
at a loss as ever respecting the road I should pursue.
The «un was hid from me by a grey and cloudy at mo-
202 CALEB WILLIAMS.
sphere ; I was induced to continue along the skirts of
the wood, and surmounted with some difficulty the
hedges and other obstacles that from time to time
presented themselves. My thoughts were gloomy and
disconsolate ; the dreariness of the day, and the soli-
tude which surrounded me, seemed to communicate a
sadness to my soul. I had proceeded a considerable
way, and was overcome with hunger and fatigue, when
I discovered a road and a little inn at no great distance.
I made up to them, and upon enquiry found that, instead
of pursuing the proper direction, I had taken one that
led to Mr. Forester's rather than to my own habitation.
I alighted, and was entering the house, when the
appearance of that gentleman struck my eyes.
Mr. Forester accosted me with kindness, invited me
into the room where he had been sitting, and enquired
what accident had brought me to that place.
While he was speaking, I could not help recollecting
the extraordinary manner in which we were thus once
more brought together, and a train of ideas was by this
means suggested to my mind. Some refreshment was,
by Mr. Forester's order, prepared for me ; I sat down,
and partook of it. Still this thought dwelt upon my
recollection: — "Mr. Falkland will never be made
acquainted with our meeting; I have an opportunity
thrown in my way, which if I do not improve, I shall
deserve all the consequences that may result. I can
now converse with a friend, and a powerful friend,
without fear of being watched and overlooked." What
wonder that I was tempted to disclose, not Mr. Falk-
land's secret, but my own situation, and receive the
advice of a man of worth and experience, which might
perhaps be adequately done without entering into any
detail injurious to my patron?
Mr. Forester, on his part, expressed a desire to learn
CALEB WILLIAMS. 203
why it was I thought myself unhappy, and why I had
avoided him during the latter part of his residence
under the same roof, as evidently as I had before taken
pleasure in his communications. I replied, that I could
give him but an imperfect satisfaction upon these points;
but what I i-oulil. I would willingly explain. The fact,
I proceeded, was, that there were reasons which ren-
dered it impossible for me to have a tranquil moment
under the roof of Mr. Falkland. I had revolved the
matter again and again in my mind, and was finally
convinced that I owed it to myself to withdraw from his
service. I added, that I was sensible, by this half-
confidence, I might rather seem to merit the disappro-
bation of Mr. Forester than his countenance ; but I
declared my persuasion that, if he could be acquainted
with the whole affair, however strange my behaviour
might at present appear, he would applaud my reserve.
He appeared to muse for a moment upon what I had
said, and then asked what reason I could have to com-
plain of Mr. Falkland ? I replied, that I entertained
the deepest reverence for my patron; I admired his
abilities, and considered him as formed for the benefit
of his species. I should in my own opinion be the
vilest of miscreants, if I uttered a whisper to his disad-
vantage. But this did not avail: I was not fit for
him ; perhaps I was not good enough for him ; at all
events, I must be perpetually miserable so long as I
continued to live with him.
I observed Mr. Forester gaze upon me eagerly with
curiosity and surprise ; but this circumstance I did not
think proper to notice. Having recovered himself, he
enquired, why then, that being the case, I did not quit
his service ? I answered, what he now touched upon
was that which most of all contributed to my misfortune*
Mr. Falkland was not ignorant of my dislike to my
204< CALEB WILLIAMS.
present situation ; perhaps he thought it unreasonable,
unjust; but I knew that he would never be brought to
consent to my giving way to it.
Here Mr. Forester interrupted me, and, smiling, said,
I magnified obstacles, and overrated my own import-
ance; adding, that he would undertake to remove that
difficulty, as well as to provide me with a more agreeable
appointment. This suggestion produced in me a serious
alarm. I replied, that I must entreat him upon no
account to think of applying to Mr. Falkland upon the
subject. I added, that perhaps I was only betraying
my imbecility; but in reality, unacquainted as I was
with experience and the world, I was afraid, though
disgusted with my present residence, to expose myself,
upon a mere project of my own, to the resentment of
so considerable a man as Mr. Falkland. If he would
favour me with his advice upon the subject, or if he
would only give me leave to hope for his protection in
case of any unforeseen accident, this was all I presumed
to reque t; and, thus encouraged. I would venture to
obey the dictates of my inclination, and fly in pursuit
of my lost tranquillity.
Having thus opened myself to this generous friend,
as far as I could do it with propriety and safety, he sat
for some time silent, with an air of deep reflection. At
length, with a countenance of unusual severity, and a
characteristic fierceness of manner and voice, he thus
addressed me : " Young man, perhaps you are ignorant
of the nature of the conduct you at present hold. May
be, you do not know that where there is mystery, there
is always something at bottom that will not bear the
telling. Is this the way to obtain the favour of a man
of consequence and respectability? To pretend to
make a confidence, and then tell him a disjointed story
that has not common sense in it ! "
CALEB WILLIAMS. 205
I answered, that, whatever were the amount of
that prejudice, I must submit. I placed my hope of a
candid construction, in the present instance, in the
rectitude of his nature.
He went on : •• You do so ; do you ? I tell you,
sir, the rectitude of my nature is an enemy to disguise.
Come, boy, you must know that I understand these
things better than you. Tell all, or expect nothing
from me but censure and contempt."
" Sir," replied I, " I have spoken from deliberation;
I have told you my choice, and, whatever be the result,
I must abide by it. If in this misfortune you refuse
me your assistance, here I must end. having gained
by the Communication only your ill opinion and dis-
pleasure."
He looked hard at me, as if he would see me through.
At length he relaxed his features, and softened his
manner. " You are a foolish, headstrong boy," said
he, •• and I shall have an eye upon you. I shall never
place in you the confidence I have done. But — I will
not desert you. At present, the balance between
approbation and dislike is in your favour. How long
it will last, I cannot tell ; I engage for nothing. But it
is my rule to act as I feel. I will for this time do as
you require; — and, pray God, it may answer. I will
receive you, either now or hereafter, under my roof,
trusting that I shall have no reason to repent, and
that appearances will terminate as favourably as I wish,
though I scarcely know how to hope it."
We were engaged in the earnest discussion of sub-
jects thus interesting to my peace, when we were
interrupted by an event the most earnestly to have
been deprecated. Without the smallest notice, and as
if he had dropped upon us from the clouds, Mr. Falk-
land burst into the room. I found afterwards that Mr.
206 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Forester had come thus far upon an appointment to
meet Mr. Falkland, and that the place of their intended
rendezvous was at the next stage. Mr. Forester was
detained at the inn where we now were by our acci-
dental rencounter, and in reality had for the moment
forgotten his appointment; while Mr. Falkland, not
finding him where he expected, proceeded thus far
towards the house of his kinsman. To me the meeting
was most unaccountable in the world.
I instantly foresaw the dreadful complication of mis-
fortune that was included in this event. To Mr. Falk-
land, the meeting between me and his relation must
appear not accidental, but, on my part at least, the
result of design. I was totally out of the road I had
been travelling by his direction ; I was in a road that
led directly to the house of Mr. Forester. What must
he think of this? How must he suppose I came to
that place? The truth, if told, that I came there
without design, and purely in consequence of having
lost my way, must appear to be the most palpable lie
that ever was devised.
Here then I stood detected in the fact of that inter-
course which had been so severely forbidden. But in
this instance it was infinitely worse thaff in those
which had already given so much disturbance to Mr.
Falkland. It was then frank and unconcealed; and
therefore the presumption was, that it was for purposes
that required no concealment. But the present inter-
view, if concerted, was in the most emphatical degree
clandestine. Nor was it less perilous than it was clan-
destine : it had been forbidden with the most dreadful
menaces ; and Mr. Falkland was not ignorant how
deep an impression those menaces had made upon my
imagination. Such a meeting therefore could not have
been concerted under such circumstances, for a trivial
CALEB WILLIAMS. 207
purpose, or for any purpose that his heart did not ache
to think of. Such was the amount of my crime, such
was the agony my appearance was calculated to in-
spire ; and it was reasonable to suppose that the penalty
I had to expect would be proportionable. The threats
of Mr. Falkland still sounded in my ears, and I was in
a transport of terror.
The conduct of the same man in different circum-
stances, is often so various as to render it very difficult
to be accounted for. Mr. Falkland, in this to him
terrible crisis, did not seem to be in any degree hur-
ried away by passion. For a moment he was dumb,
his eyes glared with astonishment ; and the next mo-
ment, as it were, he had the most perfect calmness
and self-command. Had it been otherwise, I have no
doubt that I should instantly have entered into an
explanation of the manner in which I came there, the
ingenuousness and consistency of which could not but
have been in some degree attended with a favourable
event. But, as it was, I suffered myself to be over-
come ; I yielded, as in a former instance, to the dis-
comfiting influence of surprise. I dared scarcely
breathe; I observed the appearances with equal anxiety
and surprise. Mr. Falkland quietly ordered me to
return home, and take along with me the groom he
had brought with him. I obeyed in silence.
I afterwards understood, that he enquired minutely
of Mr. Forester the circumstances of our meeting;
and that that gentleman, perceiving that the meeting
itself was discovered, and guided by habits of frank-
ness, which, when once rooted in a character, it is
difficult to counteract, told Mr. Falkland every thing
that had passed, together with the remarks it had
suggested to his own mind. Mr. Falkland received
the communication with an ambiguous and studied
208 CALEB WILLIAMS.
silence, which by no means operated to my advantage
in the already poisoned mind of Mr. Forester. His
silence was partly the direct consequence of a mind
watchful, inquisitive, and doubting; and partly per-
haps was adopted for the sake of the effect it was
calculated to produce, Mr. Falkland not being unwilling
to encourage prejudices against a character which
might one day come in competition with his own.
As to me, I went home indeed, for this was not a
moment to resist. Mr. Falkland, with a premeditation
to which he had given the appearance of accident, had
taken care to send with me a guard to attend upon his
prisoner. I seemed as if conducting to one of those
fortresses, famed in the history of despotism, from which
the wretched victim is never known to come forth alive ;
and when I entered my chamber, I felt as if I were
entering a dungeon. I reflected that I was at the mercy
of a man, exasperated at my disobedience, and who
was already formed to cruelty by successive murders.
My prospects were now closed ; I was cut off for ever
from pursuits that I had meditated with ineffable de-
light ; my death might be the event of a few hours. I
was a victim at the shrine of conscious guilt, that knew
neither rest nor satiety; I should be blotted from the
catalogue of the living, and my fate remain eternally a
secret ; the man who added my murder to his former
crimes, would show himself the next morning, and be
hailed with the admiration and applause of his species.
In the midst of these terrible imaginations, one idea
presented itself that alleviated my feelings. This was
the recollection of the strange and unaccountable tran-
quillity which Mr. Falkland had manifested, when he
discovered me in company with Mr. Forester. I was not
deceived by this. I knew that the calm was temporary,
and would be succeeded by a tumult and whirlwind of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 209
the most dreadful sort. But a man under the power
of such terrors as now occupied me catches at every
reed. I said to myself, " This tranquillity is a period
it is incumbent upon me to improve ; the shorter its
duration may be found, the more speedy am I obliged
to be in the use of it," In a word, I took the resolution,
because I already stood in fear of the vengeance of
Mr. Falkland, to risk the possibility of provoking it in a
degree still more inexpiable, and terminate at once my
present state of uncertainty. I had now opened my
case to Mr. Forester, and he had given me positive
assurances of his protection. I determined immedi-
ately to address the following letter to Mr. Falkland.
The consideration that, if he meditated any tiling tra-
gical, such a letter would only tend to confirm him, did
not enter into the present feelings of my mind.
"Sir,
" I have conceived the intention of quitting your
service. This is a measure we ought both of us to
desire. I shall then be, what it is my duty to be,
master of my own actions. You will be delivered
from the presence of a person, whom you cannot
prevail upon yourself to behold without unpleasing
emotions.
• • Why should you subject me to an eternal penance ?
Why should you consign my youthful hopes to suffering
and despair? Consult the principles of humanity that
have marked the general course of your proceedings,
and do not let me, I entreat you, be made the subject
of a useless severity. My heart is impressed with gra-
titude for yonr favours. I sincerely ask your forgive-
ness for the many errors of my conduct. I consider
the treatment I have received under your roof, as one
almost uninterrupted scene of kindness and generosity.
210 CALEB WILLIAMS.
I shall never forget my obligations to you, and will never
betray them.
" I remain, Sir,
" Your most grateful, respectful,
" and dutiful servant,
" CALEB WILLIAMS."
Such was my employment of the evening of a day
which will be ever memorable in the history of my life.
Mr. Falkland not being yet returned, though expected
every hour, I was induced to make use of the pretence
of fatigue to avoid an interview. I went to bed. It
may be imagined that my slumbers were neither deep
nor refreshing.
The next morning I was informed that my patron
did not come home till late; that he had enquired for
me, and, being told that I was in bed, had said nothing
further upon the subject Satisfied in this respect, I
went to the breakfasting parlour, and, though full of
anxiety and trepidation, endeavoured to busy myself
in arranging the books, and a few other little occu-
pations, till Mr. Falkland should come down. After a
short time I heard his step, which I perfectly well knew
how to distinguish, in the passage. Presently he stopped,
and, speaking to some one in a sort of deliberate, but
smothered voice, I overheard him repeat my name as
enquiring for me. In conformity to the plan I had per-
suaded myself to adopt, I now laid the letter I had
written upon the table at which he usually sat, and
made my exit at one door as Mr. Falkland entered at
the other. This done, I withdrew, with flutterings and
palpitation, to a private apartment, a sort of light closet
at the end of the library, where I was accustomed not
xinfrequently to sit.
I had not been here three minutes, when I heard the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 211
voice of Mr. Falkland calling me. I went to him in
the library. His manner was that of a man labouring
with some dreadful thought, and endeavouring to give
an air of carelessness and insensibility to his behaviour.
Perhaps no carriage of any other sort could have pro-
duced a sensation of such inexplicable horror, or have
excited, in the person who was its object, such anxious
uncertainty about the event — " That is your letter,"
said he, throwing it .
« My lad," continued he, " I believe now you have
played all your tricks, and the farce is nearly at an
end! With your apishness and absurdity however
you have taught me one thing ; and, whereas before
I have winced at them with torture, I am now as
tough as an elephant. I shall crush you in the end
with the same indifference, that I would any other little
insect that disturbed my serenity.
"I am unable to tell what brought about your meeting
with Mr. Forester yesterday. It might be design ; it
might be accident. But, I shall not forget it. You
write me here, that you are desirous to quit my service.
To that I have a short answer : You never shall quit it
with life. If you attempt it, you shall never cease to
rue your folly as long as you exist. That is my will ;
and I will not have it resisted. The very next time
you disobey me in that or any other article, there is
an end of your vagaries for ever. Perhaps your situ-
ation may be a pitiable one ; it is for you to look to
that. I only know that it is in your power to prevent
its growing worse ; no time nor chance shall ever make
it better.
" Do not imagine I am afraid of you ! I wear an
armour, against which all your weapons are impotent.
I have dug a pit for you ; and, whichever way you
move, backward or forward, to the right or the left, it
p 2
212 CALEB WILLIAMS.
is ready to swallow you. Be still I If once you fall,
call as loud as you will, no man on earth shall hear
your cries ; prepare a tale however plausible, or how-
ever true, the whole world shall execrate you for an
impostor. Your innocence shall be of no service to
you ; I laugh at so feeble a defence. It is I that say
it ; you may believe what I tell you Do you not
know, miserable wretch I " added he, suddenly altering
his tone, and stamping upon the ground with fury,
" that I have sworn to preserve my reputation, what-
ever be the expense ; that I love it more than tfre
whole world and its inhabitants taken together ? And
do you think that you shall wound it ? Begone, mis-
creant! reptile! and cease to contend with insur-
mountable power ! "
The part of my history which I am now relating is
that which I reflect upon with the least complacency.
Why was it, that I was once more totally overcome by
the imperious carriage of Mr. Falkland, and unable to
utter a word? The reader will be presented with
many occasions in the sequel, in which I wanted neither
facility in the invention of expedients, nor fortitude in
entering upon my justification. Persecution at length
gave firmness to my character, and taught me the better
part of manhood. But in the present instance I was
irresolute, overawed, and abashed.
The speech I had heard was the dictate of frenzy,
and it created in me a similar frenzy. It determined
me to do the very thing against which I was thus
solemnly warned, and fly from my patron's house. I
could not enter into parley with him ; I could no
Ipnger endure the vile subjugation he imposed on me.
It was in vain that my reason warned me of the
rashness of a measure, to be taken without concert
or preparation. I seemed to be in a state in which
CALEB WILLIAMS. 213
reason had no power. I felt as if I could coolly survey
the several arguments of the case, perceive that they
had prudence, truth, and common sense on their side ;
and then answer, I am under the guidance of a di-
rector more energetic than you.
I was not long in executing what I had thus rapidly
determined. I fixed on the evening of that very day
as the period of my evasion. Even in this short in-
terval I had perhaps sufficient time for deliberation.
But all opportunity was useless to me ; my mind was
fixed, and each succeeding moment only increased
the unspeakable eagerness with which I meditated
my escape. The hours usually observed by our family
in this country residence were regular ; and one in the
morning was the time I selected for my undertaking.
In searching the apartment where I slept, I had
formerly discovered a concealed door, which led to a
small apartment of the most secret nature, not un-
common in houses so old as that of Mr. Falkland, and
which had perhaps served as a refuge from persecu-
tion, or a security from the inveterate hostilities of a
barbarous age. I believed no person was acquainted
with this hiding-place but myself. I felt unaccount-
ably impelled to remove into it the different articles
of my personal property. I could not at present take
them away with me. If I were never to recover them,
I felt that it would be a gratification to my sentiment,
that no trace of my existence should be found after
my departure. Having completed their removal, and
waited till the hour I had previously chosen, I stole
down quietly from my chamber with a lamp in my
hand. I went along a passage that led to a small door
opening into the garden, and then crossed the garden,
to a gate that intersected an elm-walk and a private
borse-path on the outside.
p 3
214 CALEB WILLIAMS.
I could scarcely believe my good fortune in having
thus far executed my design without interruption.
The terrible images Mr. Falkland's menaces had sug-
gested to my mind, made me expect impediment and
detection at every step ; though the impassioned state
of my mind impelled me to advance with desperate
resolution. He probably however counted too securely
upon the ascendancy of his sentiments, when impe-
riously pronounced, to think it necessary to take pre-
cautions against a sinister event. For myself, I drew
a favourable omen as to the final result of my project,
from the smoothness of success that attended it in the
outset.
CHAPTER IX.
THE first plan that had suggested itself to me was,
to go to the nearest public road, and take the earliest
stage for London. There I believed I should be most
safe from discovery, if the vengeance of Mr. Falkland
should prompt him to pursue me ; and I did not doubt,
among the multiplied resources of the metropolis, to
find something which should suggest to me an eligible
mode of disposing of my person and industry. I reserved
Mr. Forester in my arrangement, as a last resource, not
to be called forth unless for immediate protection from
the hand of persecution and power. I was destitute
of that experience of the world, which can alone
render us fertile in resources, or enable us to institute
a just comparison between the resources that offer
themselves. I was like the fascinated animal, that is
seized with the most terrible apprehensions, at the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 215
same time that he is incapable of adequately considering
for his own safety.
The mode of my proceeding being digested, I traced,
with a cheerful heart, the unfrequented path it was
now necessary for me to pursue. The night was
'gloomy, and it drizzled with rain. But these were
circumstances I had scarcely the power to perceive ;
all was sunshine and joy within me. I hardly felt the
ground ; I repeated to myself a thousand times, " I am
free. What concern have I with danger and alarm ?
I feel that I am free ; I feel that I will continue so.
What power is able to hold in chains a mind ardent
and determined ? What power can cause that man to
die, whose whole soul commands him to continue to
live ?" I looked back with abhorrence to the subjection
in which I had been held. I did not hate the author
of my misfortunes — truth and justice acquit me of
that ; I rather pitied the hard destiny to which he
seemed condemned. Hut I thought with unspeakable
loathing of those errors, in consequence of which every
man is fated to be, more or less, the tyrant or the
slave. I was astonished at the folly of my species,
that they did not rise up as one man, and shake off
chains so ignominious, and misery so insupportable.
So far as related to myself, I resolved — and this reso-
lution has never been entirely forgotten by me — to
hold myself disengaged from this odious scene, and
never fill the part either of the oppressor or the sufferer.
My mind continued in this enthusiastical state, full
of confidence, and accessible only to such a portion of
fear as served rather to keep up a state of pleasurable
emotion than to generate anguish and distress, during
the whole of this nocturnal expedition. After a walk
of three hours, I arrived, without accident, at the
village from which I hoped to have taken my passage
p 4
216 CALEB WILLIAMS.
for the metropolis. At this early hour every thing was
quiet ; no sound of any thing human saluted my ear.
It was with difficulty that I gained admittance into the
yard of the inn, where I found a single ostler taking
care of some horses. From him I received the un-
welcome tidings, that the coach was not expected till
six o'clock in the morning of the day after to-morrow,
its route through that town recurring only three times
a week.
This intelligence gave the first check to the raptu-
rous inebriation by which my mind had been possessed
from the moment I quitted the habitation of Mr. Falk-
land. The whole of my fortune in ready cash consisted
of about eleven guineas. I had about fifty more, that
had fallen to me from the disposal of my property at
the death of my father ; but that was so vested as to
preclude it from immediate use, and I even doubted
whether it would not be found better ultimately to
resign it, than, by claiming it, to risk the furnishing a
clew to what I most of all dreaded, the persecution of
Mr. Falkland. There was nothing I so ardently desired
as the annihilation of all future intercourse between
us, that he should not know there was such a person
on the earth as myself, and that I should never more
hear the repetition of a name which had been so fatal
to my peace.
Thus circumstanced, I conceived frugality to be an
object by no means unworthy of my attention, unable
as I was to prognosticate what discouragements and
delays might present themselves to the accomplish-
ment of my wishes, after my arrival in London. For
this and other reasons, I determined to adhere to my
design of travelling by the stage ; it only remaining for
me to consider in what manner I should prevent the
eventful delay of twenty -four hours from becoming, by
CALEB WILLIAMS. 217
any untoward event, a source of new calamity. It was
by no means advisable to remain in the village where
I now was during this interval ; nor did I even think
proper to employ it, in proceeding on foot along the
great road. I therefore decided upon making a circuit,
the direction of which should seem at first extremely
wide of my intended route, and then, suddenly taking
a different inclination, should enable me to arrive by
the close of day at a market-town twelve miles nearer
to the metropolis.
Having fixed the economy of the day, and persuaded
myself that it was the best which, under the circum-
stances, could be adopted, I dismissed, for the most
part, ah* further anxieties from my mind, and eagerly
yielded myself up to the different amusements that
arose. I rested and went forward at the impulse of
the moment. At one time I reclined upon a bank
immersed in contemplation, and at another exerted
myself to analyse the prospects which succeeded each
other. The haziness of the morning was followed by
a spirit-stirring and beautiful day. With the ductility
so characteristic of a youthful mind, I forgot the anguish
which had lately been my continual guest, and oc-
cupied myself entirely in dreams of future novelty and
felicity. I scarcely ever, in the whole course of my
existence, spent a day of more various or exquisite
gratification. It furnished a strong, and perhaps not
an unsalutary contrast, to the terrors whidi had pre-
ceded, and the dreadful scenes that awaited me.
In the evening I arrived at the place of my destin-
ation, and. enquired for the inn at which the coach was
accustomed to call. A circumstance however had
previously excited my attention, and reproduced in me
a state of alarm.
Though it was already dark before I reached the
218 CALEB WILLIAMS.
town, my observation had been attracted by a man
who passed me on horseback in the opposite direction,'
about half a mile on the other side of the town. There
was an inquisitiveness in his gesture that I did not like-
and, as far as I could discern his figure, I pronounced
him an ill-looking man. He had not passed me
more than two minutes before I heard the sound of a
horse advancing slowly behind me. These circum-
stances impressed some degree of uneasy sensation
upon my mind. I first mended my pace ; and, this
not appearing to answer the purpose, I afterwards
Altered, that the horseman might pass me. He did
so ; and, as I glanced at him, I thought I saw that
it was the same man. He now put his horse into a
trot, and entered the town. I followed ; and it was
not long before I perceived him at the door of an
alehouse, drinking a mug of beer. This however
the darkness prevented me from discovering, till I was
m a manner upon him. I pushed forward, and saw
him no more, till, as I entered the yard of the inn
where I intended to sleep, the same man suddenly
rode up to me, and asked if my name were Williams.
Ihis adventure, while it had been passing, expelled
the gaiety of my mind, and filled me with anxiety.
Ihe apprehension however that I felt, appeared to me
groundless : if I were pursued, I took it for granted it
would be by some of Mr. Falkland's people, and not by
a stranger. The darkness took from me some of the
simplest expedients of precaution. I determined at
least to proceed to the inn, and make the necessary
enquiries.
I no sooner heard the sound of the horse as I en-
tered the yard, and the question proposed to me by
the rider, than the dreadful certainty of what I feared
instantly took possession of my mind. Every incident
CALEB WILLIAMS. 219
connected with my late abhorred situation was calcu-
lated to impress me with the deepest alarm. My first
thought was, to betake myself to the fields, and trust
to the swiftness of my flight for safety. But this was
sr;irc-t-ly practicable : I remarked that my enemy was
alone ; and I believed that, man to man, I might rea-
sonably hope to get the better of him, either by the
firmness of my determination, or the subtlety of my
invention.
Thus resolved, I replied in an impetuous and per-
emptory tone, that I was the man he took me for ;
adding, " I guess your errand ; but it is to no purpose.
You come to conduct me back to Falkland House ; but
no force shall ever drag me to that place alive. I have
not taken my resolution without strong reasons ; and
all the world shall not persuade me to alter it. I am
an Englishman, and it is the privilege of an Englishman
to be sole judge and master of his own actions."
"You are in the devil of a hurry," replied the man,
« to guess my intentions, and tell your own. But your
guess is right; and mayhap you may have reason to be
thankful that my errand is not something worse. Sure
enough the squire expects you; — but I have a letter,
and when you have read that, I suppose you will come
off a little of your stoutness. If that does not answer,
it will then be time to think what is to be done next."
Thus saying, he gave me his letter, which was from
Mr. Forester, whom, as he told me, he had left at Mr.
Falkland's house, I went into a room of the inn for
the purpose of reading it, and was followed by the
bearer. The letter was as follows ; —
" WILLIAMS,
"My brother Falkland has sent the bearer in pursuit
of you. He expects that, if found, you will return
220 CALEB WILLIAMS.
with him : I expect it too. It is of the utmost conse-
quence to your future honour and character. After
reading these lines, if you are a villain and a rascal,
you will perhaps endeavour to fly ; if your conscience
tells you, you are innocent, you will, out of all doubt,
come back. Show me then whether I have been your
dupe ; and, while I was won over by your seeming in-
genuousness, have suffered myself to be made the tool
of a designing knave. If you come, I pledge myself
that, if you clear your reputation, you shall not only be
free to go wherever you please, but shall receive every
assistance in my power to give. Remember, I engage
for nothing further than that.
" VALENTINE FORESTER.'*
What a letter was this I To a mind like mine, glowing
with the love of virtue, such an address was strong
enough to draw the person to whom it was addressed
from one end of the earth to the other. My mind was
full of confidence and energy. I felt my own innocence,
and was determined to assert it. I was willing to be
driven out a fugitive ; I even rejoiced in my escape,
and cheerfully went out into the world destitute of
every provision, and depending for my future prospects
upon my own ingenuity.
Thus much, said I, Falkland ! you may do. Dis-
pose of me as you please with respect to the goods
of fortune ; but you shall neither make prize of my
liberty, nor sully the whiteness of my name. I re-
passed in my thoughts every memorable incident that
had happened to me under his roof. I could recollect
nothing, except the affair of the mysterious trunk, out
of which the shadow of a criminal accusation could
be extorted. In that instance my conduct had been
highly reprehensible, and I had never looked back
CALEB WILLIAMS. 221
upon it without remorse and self-condemnation. But
I did not believe that it was of the nature of those
actions which can be brought under legal censure. I
could still less persuade myself that Mr. Falkland, who
shuddered at the very possibility of detection, and who
considered himself as completely in my power, would
dare to bring forward a subject so closely connected
with the internal agony of his soul. In a word, the
more I reflected on the phrases of Mr. Forester's
billet, the less could I imagine the nature of those
scenes to which they were to serve as a prelude.
The inscrutableness however of the mystery they
contained, did not suffice to overwhelm my courage.
My mind seemed to undergo an entire revolution.
Timid and embarrassed as I had felt myself, when I
regarded Mr. Falkland as my clandestine and domestic
foe, I now conceived that the case was entirely altered.
" Meet me," said I, "as an open accuser: if we must
contend, let us contend in the face of day ; and then,
unparalleled as your resources may be, I will not fear
you.0 Innocence and guilt were, in my apprehension,
the things in the whole world the most opposite to
each other. I would not suffer myself to believe,
that the former could be confounded with the latter,
unless the innocent man first allowed himself to be
subdued in mind, before he was defrauded of the good
opinion of mankind. Virtue rising superior to every
calamity, defeating by a plain unvarnished tale all the
stratagems of vice, and throwing back upon her ad-
versary the confusion with which he had hoped to
overwhelm her, was one of the favourite subjects of
my youthful reveries. I determined never to prove
an instrument of destruction to Mr. Falkland ; but I
was not less resolute to obtain justice to myself.
222 CALEB WILLIAMS.
The issue of all these confident hopes I shall im-
mediately have occasion to relate. It was thus, with
the most generous and undoubting spirit, that I rushed
upon irretrievable ruin.
" Friend," said I to the bearer, after a considerable
interval of silence, " you are right. This is, indeed,
an extraordinary letter you have brought me ; but it
answers its purpose. I will certainly go with you now,
whatever be the consequence. No person shall ever
impute blame to me, so long as I have it in my power
to clear myself."
I felt, in the circumstances in which I was placed
by Mr. Forester's letter, not merely a willingness,
but an alacrity and impatience, to return. We pro-
cured a second horse. We proceeded on our jour-
ney in silence. My mind was occupied again in
endeavouring to account for Mr. Forester's letter. I
knew the inflexibility and sternness of Mr. Falkland's
mind in accomplishing the purposes he had at heart ;
but I also knew that every virtuous and magnanimous
principle was congenial to his character.
When we arrived, midnight was already past, and
we were obliged to waken one of the servants to give
us admittance. I found that Mr. Forester had left a
message for me, in consideration of the possibility of
my arrival during the night, directing me immediately
to go to bed, and to take care that I did not come
weary and exhausted to the business of the following
day. I endeavoured to take his advice ; but my slum-
bers were unrefreshing and disturbed. I suffered how-
ever no reduction of courage: the singularity of my
situation, my conjectures with respect to the present,
my eagerness for the future, did not allow me to sink
into a languid and inactive state.
Next morning the first person I saw was Mr. Forester.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 223
He told me that he did not yet know what Mr. Falkland
had to allege against me, for that he had refused to
know. He had arrived at the house of his brother by
appointment on the preceding day to settle some in-
dispensable business, his intention having been to
depart the moment the business was finished, as he
knew that conduct on his part would 'be most agree-
able to Mr. Falkland. But he was no sooner come,
than he found the whole house in confusion, the alarm
of my elopement having been given a few hours before.
Mr. Falkland had despatched servants in all directions
in pursuit of me ; and the servant from the market-
town arrived at the same moment with Mr. Forester,
with intelligence that a person answering the descrip-
tion he gave, had been there very early in the morning
enquiring respecting the stage to London.
Mr. Falkland seemed extremely disturbed at tin's
information, and exclaimed on me with acrimony, as
an unthankful and unnatural villain.
Mr. Forester replied, " Have more command of your-
self, sir ! Villain is a serious appellation, and must not
be trifled with. Englishmen are free ; and no man is
to be charged with villainy, because he changes one
source of subsistence for another."
Mr. Falkland shook his head, and with a smile, ex-
pressive of acute sensibility, said, " Brother, brother,
you are the dupe of his art. I always considered him
with an eye of suspicion, and was aware of his de-
pravity. But I have just discovered "
" Stop, sir!" interrupted Mr. Forester. " I own I
thought that, in a moment of acrimony, you might be
employing harsh epithets in a sort of random style. But
if you have a serious accusation to state, we must not be
told of that, till it is known whether the lad is within
224 CALEB WILLIAMS.
reach of a hearing. I am indifferent myself about the
good opinion of others. It is what the world bestows and
retracts with so little thought, that I can make no ac-
count of its decision. But that does not authorise me
lightly to entertain an ill opinion of another. The
slenderest allowance I think I can make to such as I
consign to be the example and terror of their species,
is that of being heard in their own defence. It is a
wise principle that requires the judge to come into
court uninformed of the merits of the cause he is to
try; and to that principle I am determined to conform
as an individual. I shall always think it right to be
severe and inflexible in my treatment of offenders;
but the severity I exercise in the sequel, must be ac-
companied with impartiality and caution in what is
preliminary."
While Mr. Forester related to me these particulars,
he observed me ready to break out into some of the
expressions which the narrative suggested; but he
would not suffer me to speak. " No," said he ; "I
would not hear Mr. Falkland against you ; and I can-
not hear you in your defence. I come to you at pre-
sent to speak, and not to hear. I thought it right to
warn you of your danger, but I have nothing more to
do now. Reserve what you have to say to the proper
time. Make the best story you can for yourself — true,
if truth, as I hope, will serve your purpose ; but, if
not, the most plausible and ingenious you can invent.
That is what self-defence requires from every man,
where, as it always happens to a man upon his trial, he
has the whole world against him, and has his own
battle to fight against the world. Farewell ; and God
send you a good deliverance ! If Mr. Falkland's accus-
ation, whatever it be, shall appear premature, depend
CALEB WILLIAMS. 225
upon having me more zealously your friend than ever.
If not, this is the last act of friendship you will ever
receive from nu- '."
It may be believed that this address, so singular, so
solemn, so big with conditional menace, did not greatly
ti'iid to encourage me. I was totally ignorant of the
charge to be advanced against me ; and not a little
astonished, when it was in my power to be in the most
formidable degree the accuser of Mr. Falkland, to find
the principles of equity so completely reversed, as for
the innocent but instructed individual to be the
party accused and suffering, instead of having, as was
natural, the real criminal at his mercy. I was still
more astonished at the superhuman power Mr. Falk-
land seemed to possess, of bringing the object of his
persecution within the sphere of his authority ; a re-
flection attended with some check to that eagerness
and boldness of spirit, which now constituted the
ruling passion of my mind.
But this was no time for meditation. To the suf-
ferer the course of events is taken out of his direction,
and he is hurried along with an irresistible force,
without finding it within the compass of his efforts to
check their rapidity. I was allowed only a short time
to recollect myself, when my trial commenced. I was
conducted to the library, where I had passed so many
happy and so many contemplative hours, and found
there Mr. Forester and three or four of the servants
already assembled, in expectation of me and my ac-
cuser. Every thing was calculated to suggest to me
that I must trust only in the justice of the parties
concerned, and had nothing to hope from their indulg-
ence. Mr. Falkland entered at one door, almost as
soon as I entered at the other.
226 CALEB WILLIAMS.
CHAPTER X.
HE began : " It has been the principle of my life,
never to inflict a wilful injury upon any thing that
lives ; I need not express my regret, when I find my-
self obliged to be the promulgator of a criminal charge.
How gladly would I pass unnoticed the evil I have
sustained; but I owe it to society to detect an of-
fender, and prevent other men from being imposed
upon, as I have been, by an appearance of integrity."
" It would be better," interrupted Mr. Forester, " to
speak directly to the point. We ought not, though
unwarily, by apologising for ourselves, to create at
such a time a prejudice against an individual, against
whom a criminal accusation will always be prejudice
enough."
" I strongly suspect," continued Mr. Falkland, " this
young man, who has been peculiarly the object of
my kindness, of having robbed me to a considerable
amount."
" What," replied Mr. Forester, « are the grounds
of your suspicion ? "
" The first of them is the actual loss I have sus-
tained, in notes, jewels, and plate. I have missed bank-
notes to the amount of nine hundred pounds, three
gold repeaters of considerable value, a complete set of
diamonds, the property of my late mother, and several
other articles."
" And why,*' continued my arbitrator, astonishment,
grief, and a desire to retain his self-possession, strongly
contending in his countenance and voice, " do you
fix on this young man as the instrument of the
depredation ? "
CALEB WILLIAMS. 22?
" I found him, on my coming home, upon the day
when every thing was in disorder from the alarm ot
fire, in the very act of quitting the private apartment
where these articles were deposited. He was con-
founded at seeing me, and hastened to withdraw as
soon as he possibly could."
•• Did you say nothing to him — take no notice of the
confusion your sudden appearance produced?"
•• I asked what was his errand in that place. He
was at first so terrified and overcome, that he could
not answer me. Afterwards, with a good deal of
faltering, he said that, when all the servants were en-
gaged in endeavouring to save the most valuable part
of my property, he had come hither with the same
view ; but that he had as yet removed nothing."
" Did you immediately examine to see that every
thing was safe ?n
" No. I was accustomed to confide in his honesty ;
and I was suddenly called away, in the present in-
stance, to attend to the increasing progress of the
flames. I therefore only took out the key from the
door of the apartment, having first locked it, and,
putting it in my pocket, hastened to go where my
presence seemed indispensably necessary.'*
" How long was it before you missed your property?"
" The same evening. The hurry of the scene had
driven the circumstance entirely out of my mind, till,
going by accident near the apartment, the whole
affair, together with the singular and equivocal be-
haviour of Williams, rushed at once upon my recol-
lection. I immediately entered, examined the trunk
in which these things were contained, and, to my as-
tonishment, found the locks broken, and the property
gone."
" What steps did you take upon this discovery ?**
Q 2
228 CALEB WILLIAMS.
" I sent for Williams, and talked to him very seriously
upon the subject. But he had now perfectly recovered
his self-command, and calmly and stoutly denied all
knowledge of the matter. I urged him with the
enormousness of the offence, but I made no impression.
He did not discover either the surprise and indig-
nation one would have expected from a person entirely
innocent, or the uneasiness that generally attends upon
guilt. He was rather silent and reserved. I then
informed him, that I should proceed in a manner dif-
ferent from what he might perhaps expect. I would
not, as is too frequent in such cases, make a general
search; for I had rather lose my property for ever
without redress, than expose a multitude of innocent
persons to anxiety and injustice. My suspicion, for
the present, unavoidably fixed upon him. But, in a
matter of so great consequence, I was determined not
to act upon suspicion. I would neither incur the pos-
sibility of ruining him, being innocent, nor be the
instrument of exposing others to his depredations, if
guilty. I should therefore merely insist upon his
continuing in my service. He might depend upon it
he should be well watched, and I trusted the whole
truth would eventually appear. Since he avoided con-
fession now, I advised him to consider how far it was
likely he would come off with impunity at last. This
I determined on, that the moment he attempted an
escape, I would consider that as an indication of guilt,
and proceed accordingly."
" What circumstances have occurred from that time
to the present ? "
" None upon which I can infer a certainty of guilt;
several that agree to favour a suspicion. From that
time Williams was perpetually uneasy in his situation,
always desirous, as it now appears, to escape, but
CALEB WILLIAMS. 229
afraid to adopt such a measure without certain pre-
cautions. It was not long after, that you, Mr. Forester,
became my visitor. I observed, with dissatisfaction,
the growing intercourse between you, reflecting on the
equivocalness of his character, and the attempt he
would probably make to render you the dupe of his
hypocrisy. I accordingly threatened him severely ; and
I believe you observed the change that presently after
occurred in his behaviour with relation to you."
•• I did, and it appeared at that time mysterious and
extraordinary."
" Some time after, as you well know, a rencounter
took place between you, whether accidental or intui-
tional on his part I am not able to say, when he con-
fessed to you the uneasiness of his mind, without
discovering the cause, and openly proposed to you to
assist him in his flight, and stand, in case of necessity,
between him and my resentment. You offered, it
seems, to take him into your service ; but nothing, as
he acknowledged, would answer his purpose, that did
not place his retreat wholly out of my power to dis-
cover."
" Did it not appear extraordinary to you, that he
should hope for any effectual protection from me, while
it remained perpetually in your power to satisfy me of
his un worthiness?"
" Perhaps he had hopes that I should not proceed to
that step, at least so long as the place of his retreat
should be unknown to me, and of consequence the
event of my proceeding dubious. Perhaps he confided
in his own powers, which are far from contemptible, to
construct a plausible tale, especially as he had taken
care to have the first impression in his favpur. After
all, this protection, on your part, was merely reserved
in case all other expedients failed. He does not appear
Q 3
230 CALEB WILLIAMS.
to have had any other sentiment upon the subject, than
that, if he were defeated in his projects for placing
himself beyond the reach of justice, it was better to
have bespoken a place in your patronage than to be
destitute of every resource."
Mr. Falkland having thus finished his evidence, called
upon Robert, the valet, to confirm the part of it which
related to the day of the fire.
Robert stated, that he happened to be coming through
the library that day, a few minutes after Mr. Falkland's
being brought home by the sight of the fire ; that he
had found me standing there with every mark of per-
turbation and fright; that he could not help stopping to
notice it; that he had spoken to me two or three times
before he could obtain an answer ; and that all he could
get from me at last was, that I was the most miserable
creature alive.
He further said, that in the evening of the same day
Mr. Falkland called him into the private apartment
adjoining to the library, and bid him bring a hammer
and some nails. He then showed him a trunk stand-
ing in the apartment with its locks and fastenings
broken, and ordered him to observe and remember what
he saw, but not to mention it to any one. Robert did
not at that time know what Mr. Falkland intended by
these directions, which were given in a manner un-
commonly solemn and significant ; but he entertained
no doubt, that the fastenings were broken and wrenched
by the application of a chisel or such-like instrument,
with the intention of forcibly opening the trunk.
Mr. Forester observed upon this evidence, that as
much of it as related to the day of the fire seemed
indeed to afford powerful reasons for suspicion; and that
the circumstances that had occurred since strangely
concurred to fortify that suspicion. Meantime, that
CALEB WILLIAMS. 231
nothing proper to be done might be omitted, he asked
whether in my flight I had removed my boxes, to see
whether by that means any trace could be discovered
to confirm the imputation. Mr. Falkland treated this
suggestion slightly, saying, that if I were the thief, I
had no doubt taken the precaution to obviate so pal-
pable a means of detection. To this Mr. Forester
only replied, that conjecture, however skilfully formed,
was not always realised in the actions and behaviour of
mankind; and ordered that my boxes and trunks, if
found, should be brought into the library. I listened
to this suggestion with pleasure ; and, uneasy and con-
founded as I was at the appearances combined against
me, I trusted in this appeal to give a new face to my
cause. I was eager, to declare the place where my
property was deposited ; and the servants, guided by
my direction, presently produced what was enquired for.
The two boxes that were first opened, contained
nothing to confirm the accusation against me ; in the
third were found a watch and several jewels, that were
immediately known to be the property of Mr. Falkland.
The production of this seemingly decisive evidence
excited emotions of astonishment and concern ; but no
person's astonishment appeared to be greater than that
of Mr. Falkland. That 1 should have left the stolen
goods behind me, would of itself have appeared incre-
dible ; but when it was considered what a secure place
of concealment I had found for them, the wonder
diminished; and Mr. Forester observed, that it was by
no means impossible I might conceive it easier to obtain
possession of them afterwards, than to remove them at
the period of my precipitate flight.
Here however I thought it necessary to interfere.
I fervently urged my right to a fair and impartial con-
struction. I asked Mr. Forester, whether it were pro-
Q 4
232 CALEB WILLIAMS.
bable, if I had stolen these things, that I should not
have contrived, at least to remove them along with
me ? And again, whether, if I had been conscious they
would be found among my property, I should myself
have indicated the place where I had concealed it ?
The insinuation I conveyed against Mr. Forester's
impartiality overspread his whole countenance, for an
instant, with the flush of anger.
" Impartiality, young man ! Yes, be sure, from me
you shall experience an impartial treatment ! God send
that may answer your purpose ! Presently you shall be
heard at full in your own defence.
" You expect us to believe you innocent, because
you did not remove these things along with you. The
money is removed. Where, sir, is that ? We cannot
answer for the inconsistences and oversights of any
human mind, and, least of all, if that mind should
appear to be disturbed with the consciousness of guilt.
" You observe that it was by your own direction these
boxes and trunks have been found : that is indeed
extraordinary. It appears little less than infatuation.
But to what purpose appeal to probabilities and con-
jecture, in the face of incontestable facts ? There, sir,
are the boxes : you alone knew where they were to be
found ; you alone had the keys : tell us then how this
watch and these jewels came to be contained in them?"
I was silent.
To the rest of the persons present I seemed to be
merely the subject of detection; but in reality I was,
of all the spectators, that individual who was most at a
loss to conceive, through every stage of the scene, what
would come next, and who listened to every word that
was uttered with the most uncontrollable amazement.
Amazement however alternately yielded to indig-
nation and horror. At first I could not refrain from
CALEB WILLIAMS, 233
repeatedly attempting to interrupt ; but I was checked
in these attempts by Mr. Forester ; and I presently
felt how necessary it was to my future peace, that I
should collect the whole energy of my mind to repel
the charge, and assert my innocence.
Every thing being now produced that could be pro-
duced against me, Mr. Forester turned to me with a
look of concern and pity, and told me that now was the
time, if I chose to allege any thing in my defence. In
reply to this invitation, I spoke nearly as follows : —
" I am innocent. It is in vain that circumstance! are
accumulated against me ; there is not a person upon
earth less capable than I of the things of which I
am accused. I appeal to my heart — I appeal to my
looks — I appeal to every sentiment my tongue ever
uttered."
I could perceive that the fervour with which I spoke
made some impression upon every one that heard me.
But in a moment their eyes were turned upon the pro-
perty that lay before them, and their countenances
changed. I proceeded : —
" One thing more I must aver; — Mr. Falkland is not
deceived ; he perfectly knows that I am innocent."
I had no sooner uttered these words, than an invo-
luntary cry of indignation burst from every person in
the room. Mr. Forester turned to me with a look of
extreme severity, and said —
" Young man, consider well what you are doing ! It
is the privilege of the party accused to say whatever
he thinks proper ; and I will take care that you shall
enjoy that privilege in its utmost extent. But do you
think it will conduce in any respect to your benefit,
to throw out such insolent and intolerable insinu-
ations?"
" I thank you most sincerely," replied I, " for your
234- CALEB WILLIAMS.
caution ; but I well know what it is I am doing. I
make this declaration, not merely because it is solemnly
true, but because it is inseparably connected with my
vindication. I am the party accused, and I shall be told
that I am not to be believed in my own defence. I can
produce no other witnesses of my innocence; I therefore
call upon Mr. Falkland to be my evidence. I ask him —
" Did you never boast to me in private of your power
to ruin me ? Did you never say that, if once I brought
on myself the weight of your displeasure, my fall should
be irreparable ? Did you not tell me that, though I
should prepare in that case a tale however plausible
or however true, you would take care that the whole
world should execrate me as an impostor ? Were not
those your very words ? Did you not add, that my in-
nocence should be of no service to me, and that you
laughed at so feeble a defence? I ask you further, —
Did you not receive a letter from me the morning of
the day on which I departed, requesting your consent
to my departure? Should I have done that if my
flight had been that of a thief? I challenge any man
to reconcile the expressions of that letter with this ac-
cusation. Should I have begun with stating that I
had conceived a desire to quit your service, if my
desire and the reasons for it, had been of the nature
that is now alleged ? Should I have dared to ask for
what reason I was thus subjected to an eternal pe-
nance ? "
Saying this, I took out a copy of my letter, and laid
it open upon the table.
Mr. Falkland returned no immediate answer to my
interrogations. Mr. Forester turned to him, and said,
" Well, sir, what is your reply to this challenge of
your servant ? "
Mr. Falkland answered, " Such a mode of defence
CALEB WILLIAMS. 235
scarcely calls for a reply. But I answer, I held no such
conversation ; I never used such words ; I received no
such letter. Surely it is no sufficient refutation of a
criminal charge, that the criminal repels what is alleged
against him with volubility of speech, and intrepidity
of manner."
Mr. Forester then turned to me : " If," said he, " you
trust your vindication to the plausibility of your tale,
you must take care to render it consistent and com-
plete. You have not told us what was the cause of the
confusion and anxiety in which Robert professes to
have found you, why you were so impatient to quit
the service of Mr. Falkland, or how you account for
certain articles of his property being found in your
possession."
" All that, sir," answered I, " is true. There are
certain parts of my story that I have not told. If
they were told, they would not conduce to my disad-
vantage, and they would make the present accusation
appear still more astonishing. But I cannot, as yet at
least, prevail upon myself to tell them. Is it necessary
to give any particular and precise reasons why I should
wish to change the place of my residence ? You all of
you know the unfortunate state of Mr. Falkland's mind.
You know the sternness, reservedness, and distance of
his manners. If I had no other reasons, surely it would
afford small presumption of criminality that I should
wish to change his service for another.
" The question of how these articles of Mr. Falkland's
property came to be found in my possession, is more
material. It is a question I am wholly unable to answer.
Their being found there, was at least as unexpected
to me as to any one of the persons now present. I
only know that, as I have the most perfect assurance
of Mr. Falkland's being conscious of my innocence —
236 CALEB WILLIAMS.
for, observe ! I do not shrink from that assertion ; I
reiterate it with new confidence — I therefore firmly
and from my soul believe, that their being there is of
Mr. Falkland's contrivance."
I no sooner said this, than I was again interrupted
by an involuntary exclamation from every one present.
They looked at me with furious glances, as if they
could have torn me to pieces. I proceeded : —
" I have now answered every thing that is alleged
against me.
" Mr. Forester, you are a lover of justice ; I con-
jure you not to violate it in my person. You are a man
of penetration ; look at me ! do you see any of the
marks of guilt ? Recollect all that has ever passed
under your observation ; is it compatible with a mind
capable of what is now alleged against me ? Could a
real criminal have shown himself so unabashed, com-
posed, and firm as I have now done ?
" Fellow-servants ! Mr. Falkland is a man of rank
and fortune ; he is your master. I am a poor country
lad, without a friend in the world. That is a ground of
real difference to a certain extent ; but it is not a suf-
ficient ground for the subversion of justice. Remember,
that I am in a situation that is not to be trifled with ;
that a decision given against me now, in a case in
which I solemnly assure you I am innocent, will for
ever deprive me of reputation and peace of mind,
combine the whole world in a league against me, and
determine perhaps upon my liberty and my life. If
you believe — if you see — if you know, that I am inno-
cent, speak for me. Do not suffer a pusillanimous
timidity to prevent you from saving a fellow-creature
from destruction, who does not deserve to have a
human being for his enemy. Why have we the power
of speech, but to communicate our thoughts ? I will
CALEB WILLIAMS. 237
never believe that a man, conscious of innocence,
cannot make other men perceive that he has that
thought. Do not you feel that my whole heart tells
me, I am not guilty of what is imputed to me ?
" To you, Mr. Falkland, I have nothing to say : I
know you, and know that you are impenetrable. At
the very moment that you are urging such odious
charges against me, you admire my resolution and for-
bearance. But I have nothing to hope from you. You
can look upon my ruin without pity or remorse. I am
most unfortunate indeed in having to do with such
an adversary. You oblige me to say ill things of you ;
but I appeal to your own heart, whether my language
is that of exaggeration or revenge."
Every thing that could be alleged on either side
being now concluded, Mr. Forester undertook to make
some remarks upon the whole.
"Williams," said he," the charge against you is heavy;
the direct evidence strong ; the corroborating circum-
stances numerous and striking. I grant that you have
shown considerable dexterity in your answers ; but you
will learn, young man, to your cost, that dexterity, how-
ever powerful it maybe in certain cases, will avail little
against the stubbornness of truth. It is fortunate for
mankind that the empire of talents has its limitations,
and that it is not in the power of ingenuity to subvert
the distinctions of right and wrong. Take my word for
it, that the true merits of the case against you will be
too strong for sophistry to overturn ; that justice will
prevail, and impotent malice be defeated.
" To you, Mr. Falkland, society is obliged for having
placed this black affair in its true light. Do not suffer
the malignant aspersions of the criminal to give you
uneasiness. Depend upon it that they will be found of
no weight. I have no doubt that your character, in the
238 CALEB WILLIAMS.
judgment of every person that has heard them, stands
higher than ever. We feel for your misfortune, in
being obliged to hear such calumnies from a person
who has injured you so grossly. But you must be con-
sidered in that respect as a martyr in the public cause.
The purity of your motives and dispositions is beyond
the reach of malice ; and truth and equity will not fail
to award, to your calumniator infamy, and to you the
love and approbation of mankind.
" I have now told you, Williams, what I think of your
case. But I have no right to assume to be your ulti-
mate judge. Desperate as it appears to me, I will
give you one piece of advice, as if I were retained as
a counsel to assist you. Leave out of it whatever
tends to the disadvantage of Mr. Falkland. Defend
yourself as well as you can, but do not attack your
master. It is your business to create in those who
hear you a prepossession in your favour. But the re-
crimination you have been now practising, will always
create indignation. Dishonesty will admit of some
palliation. The deliberate malice you have now been
showing is a thousand times more atrocious. It proves
you to have the mind of a demon, rather than of a
felon. Wherever you shall repeat it, those who hear
you will pronounce you guilty upon that, even if the
proper evidence against you were glaringly defective.
If therefore you would consult your interest, which
seems to be your only consideration, it is incumbent
upon you by all means immediately to retract that. If
you desire to be believed honest, you must in the first
place show that you have a due sense of merit in others.
You cannot better serve your cause than by begging
pardon of your master, and doing homage to rectitude
and worth, even when they are employed in vengeance
against you."
CALEB WILLIAMS. 239
It is easy to conceive that my mind sustained an
extreme shock from the decision of Mr. Forester ; but
his call upon me to retract and humble myself before
my accuser penetrated my whole soul with indig-
nation. I answered : —
" I have already told you I am innocent. I believe
that I could not endure the effort of inventing a plau-
sible defence, if it were otherwise. You have just
affirmed that it is not in the power of ingenuity to
subvert the distinctions of right and wrong, and in that
very instant I find them subverted. This is indeed to
me a very awful moment. New to the world, I know
nothing, of its affairs but what has reached me by
rumour, or is recorded in books. I have come into it
with all the ardour and confidence inseparable from
ray years. In every fellow-being I expected to find a
friend. I am unpractised in its wiles, and have even
no acquaintance with its injustice. I have done nothing
to deserve the animosity of mankind; but, if I may
judge from the present scene, I am henceforth to be
deprived of the benefits of integrity and honour. I am
to forfeit the friendship of every one I have hitherto
known, and to be precluded from the power of ac-
quiring that of others. I must therefore be reduced
to derive my satisfaction from myself. Depend upon
it, I will not begin that career by dishonourable con-
cessions. If I am to despair of the good-will of other
men, I will at least maintain the independence of my
own mind. Mr. Falkland is my implacable enemy.
Whatever may be his merits in other respects, he is
acting towards me without humanity, without remorse,
and without principle. Do you think I will ever make
submissions to a man by whom I am thus treated, that
I will fall down at the feet of one who is to me a devil,
or kiss the hand that is red with my blood?"
240 CALEB WILLIAMS.
" In that respect," answered Mr. Forester, " do as
you shall think proper. I must confess that your
firmness and consistency astonish me. They add
something to what I had conceived of human powers.
Perhaps you have chosen the part which, all things
considered, may serve your purpose best ; though I
think more moderation would be more conciliating.
The exterior of innocence will, I grant, stagger the
persons who may have the direction of your fate, but
it will never be able to prevail against plain and in-
controvertible facts. But I have done with you. I
see in you a new instance of that abuse which is so
generally made of talents, the admiration of an un-
discerning public. I regard you with horror. All that
remains is, that I should discharge my duty, in con-
signing you, as a monster of depravity, to the justice
of your country."
" No," rejoined Mr. Falkland, " to that I can never
consent. I have put a restraint upon myself thus far,
because it was right that evidence and enquiry should
take their course. I have suppressed all my habits
and sentiments, because it seemed due to the public
that hypocrisy should be unmasked. But I can suffer
this violence no longer. I have through my whole
life interfered to protect, not overbear, the sufferer ;
•and I must do so now. I feel not the smallest resent-
ment of his impotent attacks upon my character ; I
smile at their malice ; and they make no diminution in
my benevolence to their author. Let him say what he
pleases; he cannot hurt me. It was proper that he
should be brought to public shame, that other people
might not be deceived by him as we have been. But
there is no necessity for proceeding further; and I
must insist upon it that he be permitted to depart
wherever he pleases. I am sorry that public interest
CALEB WILLIAMS. 241
affords so gloomy a prospect for his future happi-
IH ML '
" Mr. Falkland," answered Mr. Forester, " these sen-
timents do honour to your humanity; but I must not
give way to them. They only serve to set in a stronger
tight the venom of this serpent, this monster of in-
gratitude, who first robs his benefactor, and then re-
viles him. Wretch that you are, will nothing move
you ? Are you inaccessible to remorse ? Are you not
struck to the heart with the unmerited goodness of
your master ? Vile calumniator I you are the abhor-
rence of nature, the opprobrium of the human species,
and the earth can only be freed from an insupportable
burthen by your being exterminated! Recollect, sir,
that this monster, at the very moment that you are ex-
ercising such unexampled forbearance in his behalf,
has the presumption to charge you with prosecuting a
crime of which you know him to be innocent, nay, with
having conveyed the pretended stolen goods among
his property, for the express purpose of ruining him.
By this unexampled villainy, he makes it your duty to
free the world from such a pest, and your interest to
admit no relaxing in your pursuit of him, lest the world
should be persuaded by your clemency to credit his
vile insinuations."
** I care not for the consequences," replied Mr. Falk-
land ; " I will obey the dictates of my own mind. I
will never lend my assistance to the reforming mankind
by axes and gibbets. I am sure things will never be as
they ought, till honour, and not law, be the dictator of
mankind, till vice be taught to shrink before the re-
sistless might of inborn dignity, and not before the cold
formality of statutes. If my calumniator were worthy
of my resentment, I would chastise him with my own
sword, and not that of the magistrate ; but in the pre-
R
242 CALEB WILLIAMS.
sent case I smile at his malice, and resolve to spare
him, as the generous lord of the forest spares the insect
that would disturb his repose."
" The language you now hold," said Mr. Forester,
" is that of romance, and not of reason. Yet I cannot
but be struck with the contrast exhibited before me,
of the magnanimity of virtue, and the obstinate im-
penetrable injustice of guilt. While your mind over-
flows with goodness, nothing can touch the heart of
this thrice-refined villain. I shall never forgive myself
for having once been entrapped by his detestable arts.
This is no time for us to settle the question between
chivalry and law. I shall therefore simply insist as a
magistrate, having taken the evidence in this felony,
upon my right and duty of following the course of
justice, and committing the accused to the county jail."
After some further contest Mr. Falkland, finding
Mr. Forester obstinate and impracticable, withdrew his
opposition. Accordingly a proper officer was sum-
moned from the neighbouring village, a mittimus made
out, and one of Mr. Falkland's carriages prepared to
conduct me to the place of custody. It will easily be
imagined that this sudden reverse was very painfully
felt by me. I looked round on the servants who had
been the spectators of my examination, but not one of
them, either by word or gesture, expressed compassion
for my calamity. The robbery of which I was accused
appeared to them atrocious from its magnitude ; and
whatever sparks of compassion might otherwise have
sprung up in their ingenuous and undisciplined minds,
were totally obliterated by indignation at my supposed
profligacy in recriminating upon their worthy and ex-
cellent master. My fate being already determined,
and one of the servants despatched for the officer,
Mr. Forester and Mr. Falkland withdrew, and left me
in the custody of two others.
CALEB WILLIANfS. 243
One of these was the son of a farmer at no great
distance, who had been in habits of long established
intimacy with my late father. I was willing accurately
to discover the state of mind of those who had been
witnesses of this scene, and who had had some previous
opportunity of observing my character and manners.
I. therefore, endeavoured to open a conversation with
him. " Well, my good Thomas," said I, in a que-
rulous tone, and with a hesitating manner, •• am I not
a most miserable creature ? * '
" Do not speak to me, Master Williams ! You have
given me a shock that I shall not get the better of tor
one while. You were hatched by a hen, as the saying
is, but you came of the spawn of a cockatrice. I am
glad to my heart that honest farmer Williams is dead ;
your villainy would else have made him curse the day
that ever he was born."
" Thomas, I am innocent ! I swear by the great
God that shall judge me another day, I am in-
nocent ! "
" Pray, do not swear ! for goodness* sake, do not
swear ! your poor soul is damned enough without that.
For your sake, lad, I will never take any body's word,
nor trust to appearances, thof it should be an angel.
Lord bless us ! how smoothly you palavered it over,
for all the world, as if you had been as fair as a new-
born babe ! But it will not do ; you will never be able
to persuade people that black is white. For my own
part, I have done with you. I loved you yesterday, all
one as if you had been my own brother. To-day I love
you so well, that I would go ten miles with all the-
pleasure in life to see you hanged."
" Good God, Thomas ! have you the heart? What
a change ! I call God to witness, I have done nothing to,
deserve it ! What a world do we live in ! "
H 2
244 CALEB WILLIAMS.
" Hold your tongue, boy ! It makes my very heart
sick to hear you ! I would not lie a night under the
same roof with you for all the world ! I should expect
the house to fall and crush such wickedness ! I admire
that the earth does not open and swallow you alive ! It
is poison so much as to look at you ! If you go on at
this hardened rate, I believe from my soul that the peo-
ple you talk to will tear you to pieces, and you will never
live to come to the gallows. Oh, yes, you do well to pity
yourself; poor tender thing ! that spit venom all round
you like a toad, and leave the very ground upon which
you crawl infected with your slime."
Finding the person with whom I talked thus impene-
trable to all I could say, and considering that the advan-
tage to be gained was small, even if I could overcome
his prepossession, I took his advice, and was silent. It
was not much longer before every thing was prepared
for my departure, and I was conducted to the same
prison which had so lately enclosed the wretched and
innocent Hawkinses. They too had been the victims
of Mr. Falkland. He exhibited, upon a contracted
scale indeed, but in which the truth of delineation was
faithfully sustained, a copy of what monarchs are, who
reckon among the instruments of their power prisons of
state.
CHAPTER XI.
FOR my own part, I had never seen a prison, and, like
the majority of my brethren, had given myself little con-
cern to enquire what was the condition of those who
committed offence against, or became obnoxious to suspi-
cion from, the community. Oh, how enviable is the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 245
most tottering shed under which the labourer retires to
rest, compared with the residence of these walls !
To me every thing was new, — the massy doors, the
resounding locks, the gloomy passages, the grated
windows, and the characteristic looks of the keepers,
accustomed to reject every petition, and to steel their
hearts against feeling and pity. Curiosity, and a sense
of my situation, induced me to fix my eyes on the faces
of these men ; but in a few minutes I drew them away
with unconquerable loathing. It is impossible to de-
scribe the sort of squalidness and filth with which these
mansions are distinguished. I have seen dirty faces in
dirty apartments, which have nevertheless borne the
impression of health, and spoke carelessness and levity
rather than distress. But the dirt of a prison speaks
sadness to the heart, and appears to be already in a
state of putridity and infection.
I was detained for more than an hour in the apart-
ment of the keeper, one turnkey after another coming
in, that they might make themselves familiar with my
person. As I was already considered an guilty of fe-
lony to a considerable amount, I underwent a rigorous
search, and they took from me a penknife, a pair of scis-
sors, and that part of my money which was in gold.
It was debated whether or not these should be sealed
up, to be returned to me, as they said, as soon as I
should be acquitted ; and had I not displayed an unex-
pected firmness of manner and vigour of expostulation,
such was probably the conduct that would have been
pursued. Having undergone these ceremonies, I was
thrust into a day-room, in which all the persons then
under confinement for felony were assembled, to the
number of eleven. Each of them was too much en-
gaged in his own reflections, to take notice of me. Of
these, two were imprisoned for horse-stealing, and three
R 3
24-6 CALEB WILLIAMS.
for having stolen a sheep, one for shop-lifting, one
for coining, two for highway-robbery, and two for
burglary.
The horse-stealers were engaged in a game at cards,
which was presently interrupted by a difference of opi-
nion, attended with great vociferation, — they calling
upon one and another to decide it, to no purpose ; one
paying no attention to their summons, and another
leaving them in the midst of their story, being no
longer able to endure his own internal anguish, in the
midst of their mummery.
' It is a custom among thieves to constitute a sort of
mock tribunal of their own body, from whose decision
every one is informed whether he shall be acquitted,
respited, or pardoned, as well as respecting the supposed
most skilful way of conducting his defence. One of the
house-breakers, who had already passed this ordeal, and
was stalking up and down the room with a forced bra-
very, exclaimed to his companion, that he was as rich
as the Duke of Bedford himself. He had five guineas
and a half, which was as much as he could possibly
spend in the course of the ensuing month ; and what
happened after that, it wa$ Jack Ketch's business to see"
to, not his. As he uttered these words, he threw
himself abruptly upon a bench that was near him, and
seemed to be asleep in a moment. But his sleep was
uneasy and disturbed, his breathing was hard, and, at
intervals, had rather the nature of a groan. A young
fellow from the other side of the room came softly to
the place where he lay, with a large knife in his hand ;
and pressed the back of it with such violence upon his
neck, the head hanging over the side of the bench, that
it was not till after several efforts that he was able to rise.
" Oh, Jack ! " cried this manual jester, " I had almost
done your business for you ! " The other expressed no
CALEB WILLIAMS. 24?
marks of resentment, but sullenly answered, " Damn
you, why did not you take- the edge? It would have
been the best thing you have done this many a day ! " *
The case of one of the persons committed for
highway-robbery was not a little extraordinary. He
was a common soldier of a most engaging physiognomy,
and two-and-twenty years of age. The prosecutor,
who had been robbed one evening, as he returned late
from the alehouse, of the sum of three shillings, swore
positively to his person. The character of the prisoner
was such as has seldom been equalled. He had been
ardent in the pursuit of intellectual cultivation, and was
accustomed to draw his favourite amusement from the
works of Virgil and Horace. The humbleness of his
situation, combined with his ardour for literature, only
served to give an inexpressible heightening to the in-
terestingness of his character. He was plain and
unaffected; he assumed nothing; he was capable,
when occasion demanded, of firmness, but, in his ordi-
nary deportment, he seemed unarmed and unresisting,
unsuspicious of guile in others, as he was totally free
from guile in himself. His integrity was proverbially
great. In one instance he liad been intrusted by a
lady to convey a sum of a thousand pounds to a person
at some miles distance ; in another, he was employed
by a gentleman, during his absence, in the care of his
house and furniture, to the value of at least five times
that sum. His habits of thinking were strictly his own,
full of justice, simplicity, and wisdom. He from time
to time earned money of his officers, by his peculiar
excellence in furbishing arms; but he declined offers
* An incident exactly similar to this was witnessed by a friend
of the author, a few years since, in a visit to the prison of
, Newgate.
c24fS CALEB WILLIAMS.
that had been made him to become a Serjeant or a
corporal, saying that he did not want money, and that
in a new situation he should have less leisure for study.
He was equally constant in refusing presents that were
offered him by persons who had been struck with his
merit ; not that he was under the influence of false
delicacy and pride, but that he had no inclination to
accept that, the want of which he did not feel to be an
evil. This man died while I was in prison. I received
his last breath.*
The whole day I was obliged to spend in the com-
pany of these men, some of them having really com-
mitted the actions laid to their charge, others whom
their ill fortune had rendered the victims of suspicion.
The whole was a scene of misery, such as nothing
short of actual observation can suggest to the mind.
Some were noisy and obstreperous, endeavouring by a
false bravery to keep at bay the remembrance of their
condition ; while others, incapable even of this effort,
had the torment of their thoughts aggravated by the
perpetual noise and confusion that prevailed around
them. In the faces of those who assumed the most
courage, you might trace the furrows of anxious care ;
and in the midst of their laboured hilarity dreadful
ideas would ever and anon intrude, convulsing their
features, and working every line into an expression of
the keenest agony. To these men the sun brought no
return of joy. Day after day rolled on, but their state
was immutable. Existence was to them a scene of
invariable melancholy ; every moment was a moment
of anguish ; yet did they wish to prolong that moment,
fearful that the coming period would bring a severer
fate. They thought of the past with insupportable
* A story extremely similar to this is to be found in the
Newgate Calendar, vol. i. p. 382.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 249
repentance, each man contented to give his right hand
to have again the choice of that peace and liberty,
which he had unthinkingly bartered away. We talk of
instruments of torture ; Englishmen take credit to
themselves for having banished the use of them from
their happy shore ! Alas ! he that has observed the
secrets of a prison, well knows that there is more torture
in the lingering existence of a criminal, in the silent
intolerable minutes that he spends, than in the tangible
misery of whips and racks !
Such were our days. At sunset our jailors appeared,
and ordered each man to come away, and be locked
into his dungeon. It was a bitter aggravation of our
fate, to be under the arbitrary control of these fellows.
They felt no man's sorrow ; they were of all men least
capable of any sort of feeling. They had a barbarous
and sullen pleasure in issuing their detested mandates,
and observing the mournful reluctance with which they
were obeyed. Whatever they directed, it was in vain
to expostulate ; fetters, and bread and water, were the
sure consequences of resistance. Their tyranny had
no other limit than their own caprice. To whom shall
the unfortunate felon appeal ? To what purpose com-
plain, when his complaints are sure to be received with
incredulity ? A tale of mutiny and necessary precaution
is the unfailing refuge of the keeper, and this tale is an
everlasting bar against redress.
Our dungeons were cells, 7$ feet by 6.J, below the
surface of the ground, damp, without window, light, or
air, except from a few holes worked for that purpose in
the door. In some of these miserable receptacles three
persons were put to sleep together.* I was fortunate
enough to have one to myself. It was now the approach
* Sec Howard on Prisons.
250 CALEB WILLIAMS.
of winter. We were not allowed to have candles, and,
as I have already said, were thrust in here at sunset,
and not liberated till the returning day. This was our
situation for fourteen or fifteen hours out of the four-
and-twenty. I had never been accustomed to sleep
more than six or seven hours, and my inclination to
sleep was now less than ever. Thus was I reduced to
spend half my day in this dreary abode, and in com-
plete darkness. This was no trifling aggravation of
my lot.
Among my melancholy reflections I tasked my me-
mory, and counted over the doors, the locks, the bolts,
the chains, the massy walls, and grated windows, that
were between me and liberty. " These," said I, " are
the engines that tyranny sits down in cold and serious
meditation to invent. This is the empire that man
exercises over man. Thus is a being, formed to ex-
patiate, to act, to smile, and enjoy, restricted and
benumbed. How great must be his depravity or heed-
lessness, who vindicates this scheme for changing health
and gaiety and serenity, into the wanness of a dungeon,
and the deep furrows of agony and despair !"
" Thank God," exclaims the Englishman, " we have
no Bastile ' Thank God, with us no man can be punished
without a crime ! " Unthinking wretch ! Is that a country
of liberty, where thousands languish in dungeons and
fetters ? Go, go, ignorant fool ! and visit the scenes of
our prisons ! witness their unwholesomeness, their filth,
the tyranny of their governors, the misery of their
inmates! After that, show me the man shameless enough
to triumph, and say, England has no Bastile ! Is there
any charge so frivolous, upon which men are not con-
signed to those detested abodes ? Is there any villainy
that is not practised by justices and prosecutors? But
against all this perhaps you have been told there is
CALEB WILLIAMS. 251
redress. Yes ; a redress, that it is the consummation of
insult so much as to name ! Where shall the poor wretch
reduced to the last despair, and to whom acquittal
perhaps conies just time enough to save him from
perishing, — where shall this man find leisure, and much
less money, to fee counsel and officers, and purchase
the tedious dear-bought remedy of the law ? No ; he
is too happy to leave his dungeon, and the memory
of his dungeon, behind him; and the same tyranny
and wanton oppression become the inheritance of his
successor.
For myself, I looked round upon my walls, and for-
ward upon the premature death I had too much reason
to expect : I consulted my own heart, that whispered
nothing but innocence ; and I said, " This is society.
This is the object, the distribution of justice, which is the
end of human reason. For this sages have toiled, and
midnight oil has been wasted. This !"
The reader will forgive this digression from the im-
mediate subject of my story. If it should be said these
are general remarks, let it be remembered that they are
the dear-bought result of experience. It is from the
fulness of a bursting heart that reproach thus flows
to my pen. These are not the declamations of a man
desirous to be eloquent. I have felt the iron of slavery
grating upon my soul.
I believed that misery, more pure than that which I
now endured, had never fallen to the lot of a human
being. I recollected with astonishment my puerile
eagerness to be brought to the test, and have my
innocence examined. I execrated it, as the vilest and
most insufferable pedantry. I exclaimed, in the hitter-
ness of my heart, " Of what value is a fair fame ? It is
the jewel of men formed to be amused with baubles.
Without it, I might have had serenity of heart and
252 CALEB WILLIAMS.
cheerfulness of occupation, peace, and liberty; why
should I consign my happiness to other men's arbitra-
tion ? But, if a fair fame were of the most inexpressible
value, is this the method which common sense would
prescribe to retrieve it? The language which these
institutions hold out to the unfortunate is, ' Come, and
be shut out from the light of day ; be the associate of
those whom society has marked out for her abhorrence,
be the slave of jailers, be loaded with fetters; thus
shall you be cleared from every unworthy aspersion,
and restored to reputation and honour !' This is the
consolation she affords to those whom malignity or
folly, private pique or unfounded positiveness, have,
without the smallest foundation, loaded with calumny."
For myself, I felt my own innocence ; and I soon found,
upon enquiry, that three fourths of those who are regu-
larly subjected to a similar treatment, are persons whom,
even with all the superciliousness and precipitation of
our courts of justice, no evidence can be found sufficient
to convict. How slender then must be that man's
portion of information and discernment, who is willing
to commit his character and welfare to such guardi-
anship !
But my case was even worse than this. I intimately
felt that a trial, such as our institutions have hitherto
been able to make it, is only the worthy sequel of such
a beginning. What chance was there after the purgation
I was now suffering, that I should come out acquitted
at last ? What probability was there that the trial I had
endured in the house of Mr. Falkland was not just as
fair as any that might be expected to follow ? No ; I
anticipated my own condemnation.
Thus was I cut off, for ever, from all that existence
has to bestow — from all the high hopes I had so often
conceived — from all the future excellence my soul so
CALEB WILLIAMS. 253
much delighted to imagine, — to spend a few weeks in a
miserable prison, and then to perish by the hand of the
public executioner. No language can do justice to the
indignant and soul-sickening loathing that these ideas
ixdted. My resentment was not restricted to my pro-
secutor, but extended itself to the whole machine of
society. I could never believe that all this was the fair
result of institutions inseparable from the general good.
I regarded the whole human species as so many hang-
men and torturers ; I considered them as confederated
to tear me to pieces ; and this wide scene of inexorable
persecution inflicted upon me inexpressible agony. I
looked on this side and on that : I was innocent ; I had
a right to expect assistance ; but every heart was steeled
against me ; every hand was ready to lend its force to
make my ruin secure. No man that has not felt, in his
own most momentous concerns, justice, eternal truth,
unalterable equity engaged in his behalf, and on the
other side brute force, impenetrable obstinacy, and un-
feeling insolence, can imagine the sensations that then
passed through my mind. I saw treachery triumphant
and enthroned ; I saw the sinews of innocence crum-
bled into dust by the gripe of almighty guilt.
What relief had I from these sensations? Was it
relief, that I spent the day in the midst of profligacy
and execrations — that I saw reflected from every coun-
tenance agonies only inferior to my own ? He that
would form a lively idea of the regions of the damned,
need only to witness, for six hours, a scene to which
I was confined for many months. Not for one hour
could I withdraw myself from this complexity of horrors,
or take refuge in the calmness of meditation. Air, ex-
ercise, series, contrast, those grand enliveners of the
human frame, I was for ever debarred from, by the in-
254 CALEB WILLIAMS.
exorable tyranny under which I was fallen. Nor did I
find the solitude of my nightly dungeon less insupport-
able. Its only furniture was the straw that served me
for my repose. It was narrow, damp, and unwholesome*
The slumbers of a mind, wearied, like mine, with the
most detestable uniformity, to whom neither amusement
nor occupation ever offered themselves to beguile the
painful hours, were short, disturbed, and unrefreshing.
My sleeping, still more than my waking thoughts, were
full of perplexity, deformity, and disorder. To these
slumbers succeeded the hours which, by the regulations
of our prison, I was obliged, though awake, to spend in
solitary and cheerless darkness. Here I had neither
books nor pens, nor any thing upon which to engage
my attention ; all was a sightless blank. How was a
mind, active and indefatigable like mine, to endure this
misery ? I could not sink it in lethargy ; I could not
forget my woes : they haunted me with uninterrupted
and demoniac malice. Cruel, inexorable policy of hu-
man affairs, that condemns a man to torture like this;
that sanctions it, and knows not what is done under its
sanction ; that is too supine and unfeeling to enquire
into these petty details ; that calls this the ordeal of
innocence, and the protector of freedom ! A thousand
times I could have dashed my brains against the walls of
my dungeon ; a thousand times I longed for death, and
wished, with inexpressible ardour, for an end to what I
suffered ; a thousand times I meditated suicide, and ru-
minated, in the bitterness of my soul, upon the different
means of escaping from the load of existence. What
had I to do with life ? I had seen enough to make me
regard it with detestation. Why should I wait the
lingering process, of legal despotism, and not dare so
much as to die, but when and how its instruments de-
CALEB WILLIAM-. 255
creed? Still some inexplicable suggestion withheld
my hand. I clung with desperate fondness to this
shadow of existence, its mysterious attractions, and its
hopeless prospects.
CHAPTER XII.
SUCH were the reflections that haunted the first days
of my imprisonment, in consequence of which they
were spent in perpetual anguish. But, after a time,
nature, wearied with distress, would no longer stoop to
the burthen; thought, which is incessantly varying,
introduced a series of reflections totally different.
My fortitude revived. I had always been accustomed
to cheerfulness, good humour, and serenity ; and this
habit now returned to visit me at the bottom of my
dungeon. No sooner did my contemplations take this
turn, than I saw the reasonableness and possibility of
tranquillity and peace ; and my mind whispered to me
the propriety of showing, in this forlorn condition, that
I was superior to all my persecutors. Blessed state of
innocence and self-approbation ! The sunshine of con-
scious integrity pierced through all the barriers of my
cell, and spoke ten thousand times more joy to my
heart, than the accumulated splendours of nature and
art can communicate to the slaves of vice.
I found out the secret of employing my mind. I said,
" I am shut up for half the day in total darkness, without
any external source of amusement ; the other half I
spend in the midst of noise, turbulence, and confusion.
What then ? Can I not draw amusement from the
stores of my own mind ? Is it not freighted with vari-
ous knowledge ? Have I not been employed from my
256 CALEB WILLIAMS.
infancy in gratifying an insatiable curiosity? When
should I derive benefit from these superior advantages,
if not at present ? " Accordingly I tasked the stores of
my memory, and my powers of invention. I amused
myself with recollecting the history of my life. By
degrees I called to mind a number of minute circum-
stances, which, but for this exercise, would have been
for ever forgotten. I repassed in my thoughts whole
conversations, I recollected their subjects, their arrange-
ment, their incidents, frequently their very words. I
mused upon these ideas, till I was totally absorbed
in thought. I repeated them, till my mind glowed with
enthusiasm. I had my different employments, fitted
for the solitude of the night, in which I could give full
scope to the impulses of my mind ; and for the uproar
of the day, in which my chief object was, to be insen-
sible to the disorder with which I was surrounded.
By degrees I quitted my own story, and employed my-
self in imaginary adventures. I figured to myself every
situation in which I could be placed, and conceived the
conduct to be observed in each. Thus scenes of insult
and danger, of tenderness and oppression, became fa-
miliar to me. In fancy I often passed the awful hour
of dissolving nature. In some of my reveries I boiled
with impetuous indignation, and in others patiently
collected the whole force of my mind for some fearful
encounter. I cultivated the powers of oratory suited
to these different states, and improved more in elo-
quence in the solitude of my dungeon, than perhaps I
should have done in the busiest and most crowded
scenes.
At length I proceeded to as regular a disposition of
my time, as the man in his study, who passes from
mathematics to poetry, and from poetry to the law
of nations, in the different parts of each single day;
CALEB WILLIAMS. 257
and I as seldom infringed upon my plan. Nor were
my subjects of disquisition less numerous than his.
I went over, by the assistance of memory only, a
coiiMcliiMble part of Euclid during my confinement,
and revived, day after day, the series of facts and
incidents in some of the most celebrated historians. I
became myself a poet ; and, while I described the sen-
timents cherished by the view of natural objects, re-
corded the characters and passions of men, and partook
with a burning zeal in the generosity of their deter-
minations, I eluded the squalid solitude of my dungeon,
and wandered in idea through all the varieties of human
society. I easily found expedients, such as the mind
seems always to require, and which books and pens
supply to the man at large, to record from time to time
the progress that had been made.
While I was thus employed, I reflected with exult-
ation upon the degree in which man is independent of the
smiles and frowns of fortune I was beyond her reach,
for I could fall no lower. To an ordinary eye I might
seem destitute and miserable, but in reality I wanted for
nothing. My fare was coarse; but I was in health.
My dungeon was noisome ; but I felt no inconvenience.
I was shut up from the usual means of exercise and
air ; but I found the method of exercising myself even
to perspiration in my dungeon. I had no power of
withdrawing my person from a disgustful society, in
the most cheerful and valuable part of the day; but I
soon brought to perfection the art of withdrawing my
thoughts, and saw and heard the people about me, for
just as short a time, and as seldom, as I pleased.
Such is man in himself considered ; so simple his na-
ture ; so few his wants. How different from the man of
artificial society ! Palaces are built for his reception, a
thousand vehicles provided for his exercise, provinces are
258 CALEB WILLIAMS.
ransacked for the gratification of his appetite, and the
whole world traversed to supply him with apparel and
furniture. Thus vast is his expenditure, and the pur-
chase slavery. He is dependent on a thousand accidents
for tranquillity and health, and his body and soul are
at the devotion of whoever will satisfy his imperious
cravings.
In addition to the disadvantages of my present
situation, I was reserved for an ignominious death.
What then ? Every man must die. No man knows how
soon. It surely is not worse to encounter the king of
terrors, in health, and with every advantage for the
collection of fortitude, than to encounter him, already
half subdued by sickness and suffering. I was resolved
at least fully to possess the days I had to live ; and this
is peculiarly in the power of the man who preserves
his health to the last moment of his existence. Why
should I suffer my mind to be invaded by unavailing
regrets ? Every sentiment of vanity, or rather of in-
dependence and justice within me, instigated me to say
to my persecutor, " You may cut off my existence, but
you cannot disturb my serenity."
CHAPTER XIII.
IN the midst of these reflections, another thought, which
had not before struck me, occurred to my mind. " I
exult," said I, " and reasonably, over the impotence of
my persecutor. Is not that impotence greater than I
have yet imagined ? I say, he may cut off my existence,
but cannot disturb my serenity. It is true : my mind,
the clearness of my spirit, the firmness of my temper,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 259
are beyond his reach ; is not my life equally so, if I
please? What are the material obstacles, that man
never subdued ? What is the undertaking so arduous,
that by some has not been accomplished? And if by
others, why not by me ? Had they stronger motives
than I? Was existence more variously endeared to
them ? or had they more numerous methods by which
to animate and adorn it ? Many of those who have ex-
erted most perseverance and intrepidity, were obviously
my inferiors in that respect. Why should not I be as
daring as they ? Adamant and steel have a ductility
like water, to a mind sufficiently bold and contem-
plative. The mind is master of itself ; and is endowed
with powers that might enable it to laugh at the tyrant's
vigilance." I passed and repassed these ideas in my
mind ; and, heated with the contemplation, I said,
« No, I will not die ! "
My reading, in early youth, had been extremely
miscellaneous. I had read of housebreakers, to whom
locks and bolts were a jest, and who, vain of their art,
exhibited the experiment of entering a house the most
strongly barricaded, with as little noise, and almost as
little trouble, as other men would lift up a latch. There
is nothing so interesting to the juvenile mind, as the
wonderful ; there is no power that it so eagerly covets,
as that of astonishing spectators by its miraculous exer-
'tions. Mind appeared, to my untutored reflections,
vague, airy, and unfettered, the susceptible perceiver
of reasons, but never intended by nature to be the
slave of force. Why should it be in the power of
man to overtake and hold me by violence ? Why, when
I choose to withdraw myself, should I not be capable
of eluding the most vigilant search ? These limbs, and
this trunk, are a cumbrous and unfortunate load for the
power of thinking to drag along with it ; but why should
s 2
260 CALEB WILLIAMS.
not the power of thinking be able to lighten the load,
till it shall be no longer felt ? — These early modes of
reflection were by no means indifferent to my present
enquiries.
Our next-door neighbour at my father's house had
been a carpenter. Fresh from the sort of reading I
have mentioned, I was eager to examine his tools, their
powers and their uses. This carpenter was a man of
strong and vigorous mind ; and, his faculties having
been chiefly confined to the range of his profession, he
was fertile in experiments, and ingenious in reasoning
upon these particular topics. I therefore obtained from
him considerable satisfaction ; and, my mind being set
in action, I sometimes even improved upon the hints
he furnished. His conversation was particularly agree-
able to me ; I at first worked with him sometimes for
my amusement, and afterwards occasionally for a short
time as his journeyman. I was constitutionally vigor-
ous ; and, by the experience thus attained, I added to
the abstract possession of power, the skill of applying
it, when I pleased, in such a manner as that no part
should be inefficient.
It is a strange, but no uncommon feature in the
human mind, that the very resource of which we stand
in greatest need in a critical situation, though already
accumulated, it may be, by preceding industry, fails to
present itself at the time when it should be called into
action. Thus my mind had passed through two very
different stages since my imprisonment, before this
means of liberation suggested itself. My faculties were
overwhelmed in the first instance, and raised to a pitch
of enthusiasm in the second ; while in both I took it for
granted in a manner, that I must passively submit to
the good pleasure of my persecutors.
During the period in which my mind had been thus
CALEB WILLIAMS. 261
undecided, and when I had been little more than a
month in durance, the assizes, which were held twice
a year in the town in which I was a prisoner, came on.
Upon this occasion my case was not brought forward,
but was suffered to stand over six months longer. It
would have been just the same, if I had had as strong
reason to expect acquittal as I had conviction. If I
had been apprehended upon the most frivolous reasons
upon which any justice of the peace ever thought
proper to commit a naked beggar for trial, I must still
have waited about two hundred and seventeen days
before my innocence could be cleared. So imperfect
are the effects of the boasted laws of a country, whose
legislators hold their assembly from four to six months
in every year ! I could never discover with certainty,
whether this delay were owing to any interference on
the part of my prosecutor, or whether it fell out in the
regular administration of justice, which is too solemn
and dignified to accommodate itself to the rights or
benefit of an insignificant individual.
But this was not the only incident that occurred to
me during my confinement, for which I could find no
satisfactory solution. It was nearly at the same time,
that the keeper began to alter his behaviour to me.
He sent for me one morning into the part of the build-
ing which was appropriated for his own use, and, after
some hesitation, told me he was sorry rny accommo-
dations had been so indifferent, and asked whether I
should like to have a chamber in his family? I was
struck with the unexpectedness of this question, and
desired to know whether any body had employed him
to ask it. No, he replied ; but, now the assizes were
over, he had fewer felons on his hands, and more time
to look about him. He believed I was a good kind -of
a young man, and he had taken a sort of a liking to
s 3
262 CALEB WILLIAMS.
me. I fixed my eye upon his countenance as he said
this. I could discover none of the usual symptoms of
kindness ; he appeared to me to be acting a part, un-
natural, and that sat with awkwardness upon him. He
went on however to offer me the liberty of eating at
his table ; which, if I chose it, he said, would make no
difference to him, and he should not think of charging
me any thing for it. He had always indeed as much
upon his hands as one person could see to ; but his
wife and his daughter Peggy would be woundily pleased
to hear a person of learning talk, as he understood I
was ; and perhaps I might not feel myself unpleasantly
circumstanced in their company.
I reflected on this proposal, and had little doubt,
notwithstanding what the keeper had affirmed to the
contrary, that it did not proceed from any spontaneous
humanity in him, but that he had, to speak the lan-
guage of persons of his cast, good reasons for what he
did. I busied myself in conjectures as to who could
be the author of this sort of indulgence and attention.
The two most likely persons were Mr. Falkland and
Mr. Forester. The latter I knew to be a man austere
and inexorable towards those whom he deemed vicious.
He piqued himself upon being insensible to those
softer emotions, which, he believed, answered no other
purpose than to seduce us from our duty. Mr. Falk-
land, on the contrary, was a man of the acutest sensi-
bility : hence arose his pleasures and his pains, his
virtues and his vices. Though he were the bitterest
enemy to whom I could possibly be exposed, and
though no sentiments of humanity could divert or con-
trol the bent of his mind, I yet persuaded myself, that
he was more likely than his kinsman, to visit in idea the
scene of my dungeon, and to feel impelled to alleviate
my sufferings.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 263
This conjecture was by no means calculated to serve
as balm to my mind. My thoughts were full of irrita-
tion against my persecutor. How could I think kindly
of a man, in competition with the gratification of whose
ruling passion my good name or my life was deemed of
no consideration? I saw him crushing the one, and
bringing the other into jeopardy, with a quietness and
composure on his part that I could not recollect with-
out horror. I knew not what were his plans respecting
me. I knew not whether he troubled himself so much
as to form a barren wish for the preservation of one
whose future prospects he had so iniquitously tarnished.
I had hitherto been silent as to my principal topic of
recrimination. But I was by no means certain, that I
should consent to go out of the world in silence, the
victim of this man's obduracy and art. In every view
I felt my heart ulcerated with a sense of his injustice;
and my very soul spurned these pitiful indulgences, at a
time that he was grinding me into dust with the inex-
orableness of his vengeance.
I was influenced by these sentiments in my reply to
the jailor ; and I found a secret pleasure in pronouncing
them in all their bitterness. I viewed him with a sar-
castic smile, and said, I was glad to find him of a sud-
den become so humane : I was not however without
some penetration as to the humanity of a jailor, and
could guess at the circumstances by which it was pro.
duced. But he might tell his employer, that his cares
were fruitless : I would accept no favours from a man
that held a halter about my neck ; and had courage
enough to endure the worst both in time to come and
now. — The jailor looked at me with astonishment, and
turning upon his heel, exclaimed, " Well done, my
cock ! You have not had your learning for nothing, I
see. You are set upon not dying dunghill. But that U
8 4
264? CALEB WILLIAMS.
to come, lad ; you had better by half keep your courage
till you shall find it wanted."
The assizes, which passed over without influence to
me, produced a great revolution among my fellow-pri-
soners. I lived long enough in the jail to witness a
general mutation of its inhabitants. One of the house-
breakers (the rival of the Duke of Bedford), and the
coiner, were hanged. Two more were cast for trans-
portation, and the rest acquitted. The transports re-
mained with us ; and, though the prison was thus light-
ened of nine of its inhabitants, there were, at the next
half-yearly period of assizes, as many persons on the
felons' side, within three, as I had found on my first
arrival.
The soldier, whose story I have already recorded,
died on the evening of the very day on which the
judges arrived, of a disease the consequence of his
confinement. Such was the justice, that resulted from
the laws of his country to an individual who would
have been the ornament of any age ; one who, of all the
men I ever knew, was perhaps the kindest, of the most
feeling heart, of the most engaging and unaffected
manners, and the most unblemished life. The name
of this man was Brightwel. Were it possible for my pen
to consecrate him to never-dying fame, I could undertake
no task more grateful to my heart. His judgment was
penetrating and manly, totally unmixed with imbecility
and confusion, while at the same time there was such
an uncontending frankness in his countenance, that a
superficial observer would have supposed he must have
been the prey of the first plausible knavery that was
practised against him. Great reason have I to remem-
ber him with affection ! He was the most ardent, I
had almost said the last, of my friends. Nor did I re-
main in this respect in his debt. There was indeed a
CALEB WILLIAMS. 265
great congeniality, if I may presume to say so, in our
characters, except that I cannot pretend to rival the
originality and self-created vigour of his mind, or to
compare with, what the world has scarcely surpassed,
the correctness and untainted purity of his conduct. He
heard my story, as far as I thought proper to disclose
it, with interest ; he examined it with sincere impar-
tiality ; and if, at first, any doubt remained upon his
mind, a frequent observation of me in my most un-
guarded moments taught him in no long time to place
an unreserved confidence in my innocence.
He talked of the injustice of which we were mutual
victims, without bitterness ; and delighted to believe
that the time would come, when the possibility of such
intolerable oppression would be extirpated. But this,
he said, was a happiness reserved for posterity ; it was
too late for us to reap the benefit of it. It was some
consolation to him, that he could not tell the period in
his past life, which the best judgment of which he was
capable would teach him to spend better. He could
say, with as much reason as most men, he had dis-
charged his duty. But he foresaw that he should not
survive his present calamity. This was his prediction,
while yet in health. He might be said, in a certain
sense, to have a broken heart. But, if that phrase
were in any way applicable to him, sure never was
despair more calm, more full of resignation and serenity.
At no time in the whole course of my adventures
was I exposed to a shock more severe, than I received
from this man's death. The circumstances of his fate
presented themselves to my mind in their full compli-
cation of iniquity. From him, and the execrations
with which I loaded the government that could be the
instrument of his tragedy, I turned to myself. I be-
held the catastrophe of Brightwel with envy. A thou-
266 CALEB WILLIAMS.
sand times I longed that my corse had lain in death,
instead of his. I was only reserved, as I persuaded
myself, for unutterable woe. In a few days he would
have been acquitted; his liberty, his reputation restored;
mankind perhaps, struck with the injustice he had
suffered, would have shown themselves eager to balance
his misfortunes, and obliterate his disgrace. But this
man died ; and I remained alive ! I, who, though not
less wrongfully treated than he, had no hope of repa-
ration, must be marked as long as I lived for a villain,
and in my death probably held up to the scorn and
detestation of my species !
Such were some of the immediate reflections which
the fate of this unfortunate martyr produced in my
mind. Yet my intercourse with Brightwel was not, in
the review, without its portion of comfort. I said,
" This man has seen through the veil of calumny that
overshades me : he has understood, and has loved me.
Why should I despair ? May I not meet hereafter with
men ingenuous like him, who shall do me justice, and
sympathise with my calamity ? With that consolation I
will be satisfied. I will rest in the arms of friendship, and
forget the malignity of the world. Henceforth I will be
contented with tranquil obscurity, with the cultivation
of sentiment and wisdom, and the exercise of benevo-
lence within a narrow circle. It was thus that my mind
became excited to the project I was about to undertake.
I had no sooner meditated the idea of an escape,
than I determined upon the following method of facili-
tating the preparations for it. I undertook to ingra-
tiate myself with my keeper. In the world I have
generally found such persons as had been acquainted
with the outline of my story, regarding me with a sort
of loathing and abhorrence, which made them avoid
me with as much care as if I had been spotted with the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 267
plague. The idea of my having first robbed my patron,
and then endeavouring to clear myself by charging him
with subornation against me, placed me in a class
distinct from, and infinitely more guilty than that of
common felons. But this man was too good a master
of his profession, to entertain aversion against a fellow-
creature upon that score. He considered the persons
committed to his custody, merely as so many human
bodies, for whom he was responsible that they should
be forthcoming in time and place ; and the difference
of innocence and guilt he looked down upon as an
affair beneath his attention. I had not therefore the
prejudices to encounter in recommending myself to
him, that I have found so peculiarly obstinate in other
cases. Add to which, the same motive, whatever it
was, that had made him so profuse in his offers a little
before, had probably its influence on the present
OOOMion.
I informed him of my skill in the profession of a
joiner, and offered to make him half a dozen handsome
chairs, if he would facilitate my obtaining the tools
necessary for carrying on my profession in my present
confinement; for, without his consent previously ob-
tained, it would have been in vain for me to expect
that I could quietly exert an industry of this kind,
even if my existence had depended upon it. He looked
at me first, as asking himself what he was to understand
by this novel proposal ; and then, his countenance most
graciously relaxing, said, he was glad I was come off a
little of my high notions and my buckram, and he would
see what he could do. Two days after, he signified his
compliance. He said that, as to the matter of the pre-
sent I had offered him, he thought nothing of that ; I
might do as I pleased in it ; but I might depend upon
every civility from him that he could show with safety
268 CALEB WILLIAMS.
to himself, if so be as, when he was civil, I did not
offer a second time for to snap and take him up short.
Having thus gained my preliminary, I gradually
accumulated tools of various sorts — gimlets, piercers,
chisels, et cetera. I immediately set myself to work.
The nights were long, and the sordid eagerness of my
keeper, notwithstanding his ostentatious generosity,
was great ; I therefore petitioned for, and was indulged
with, a bit of candle, that I might amuse myself for an
hour or two with my work after I was locked up in my
dungeon. I did not however by any means apply
constantly to the work I had undertaken, and my jailor
betrayed various tokens of impatience. Perhaps he was
afraid I should not have finished it, before I was hanged.
I however insisted upon working at my leisure as I
pleased; and this he did not venture expressly to dispute.
In addition to the advantages thus obtained, I procured
secretly from Miss Peggy, who now and then came into
the jail to make her observations of the prisoners, and
who seemed to have conceived some partiality for my
person, the implement of an iron crow.
In these proceedings it is easy to trace the vice and
duplicity that must be expected to grow out of injustice.
I know not whether my readers will pardon the sinister
advantage I extracted from the mysterious concessions
of my keeper. But I must acknowledge my weakness
in that respect ; I am writing my adventures, and not
my apology ; and I was not prepared to maintain the
unvaried sincerity of my manners, at the expense of a
speedy close of my existence.
My plan was now digested. I believed that, by
means of the crow, I could easily, and without much
noise, force the door of my dungeon from its hinges,
or if not, that I could, in case of necessity, cut away
the lock. This door led into a narrow passage, bounded
CALEB WILLIAMS. 269
on one side by the range of dungeons, and on the other
by the jailor's and turnkeys' apartments, through which
was the usual entrance from the street. This outlet I
dared not attempt, for fear of disturbing the persona
close to whose very door I should in that case have
found it necessary to pass. I determined therefore
upon another door at the further end of the passage,
which was well barricaded, and which led to a sort of
garden in the occupation of the keeper. This garden
I had never entered, but I had had an opportunity of
observing it from the window of the felons' day-room,
which looked that way, the room itself being imme-
diately over the range of dungeons. I perceived that
it was bounded by a wall of considerable height, which
I was told by my fellow-prisoners was the extremity
of the jail on that side, and beyond which was a back-
lane of some length, that terminated in the skirts of the
town. Upon an accurate observation, and much re-
flection upon the subject, I found I should be able, if
once I got into the garden, with my gimlets and piercers
inserted at proper distances to make a sort of ladder,
by means of which I could clear the wall, and once
more take possession of the sweets of liberty. I pre-
ferred this wall to that which immediately skirted my
dungeon, on the other side of which was a populous
street.
I suffered about two days to elapse from the period
at which I had thoroughly digested my project, and
then in the very middle of the night began to set about
its execution. The first door was attended with con-
siderable difficulty ; but at length this obstacle was
happily removed. The second door was fastened on
the inside. I was therefore able with perfect ease to
push back the bolts. But the lock, which of course
was depended upon for the principal security, and was
270 CALEB WILLIAMS.
therefore strong, was double-shot, and the key taken
away. I endeavoured with my chisel to force back
the bolt of the lock, but to no purpose. I then un-
screwed the box of the lock; and, that being taken
away, the door was no longer opposed to my wishes.
Thus far I had proceeded with the happiest success ;
but close on the other side of the door there was a
kennel with a large mastiff dog, of which I had not the
smallest previous knowledge. Though I stepped along
in the most careful manner, this animal was disturbed,
and began to bark. I was extremely disconcerted, but
immediately applied myself to soothe the animal, in
which I presently succeeded. I then returned along
the passage to listen whether any body had been dis-
turbed by the noise of the dog; resolved, if that had been
the case, that I would return to my dungeon, and en-
deavour to replace every thing in its former state. But
the whole appeared perfectly quiet, and I was en-
couraged to proceed in my operation.
I now got to the wall, and had nearly gained half
the ascent, when I heard a voice at the garden- door,
crying, " Holloa! who is there? who opened the door?"
The man received no answer, and the night was too
dark for him to distinguish objects at any distance.
He therefore returned, as I judged, into the house for
a light. Meantime the dog, understanding the key in
which these interrogations- were uttered, began barking
again more violently than ever. I had now no pos-
sibility of retreat, and I was not without hopes that I
might yet accomplish my object, and clear the wall.
Meanwhile a second man came out, while the other
was getting his lantern, and by the time I had got to
the top of the wall was able to perceive me. He im-
mediately set up a shout, and threw a large stone,
which grazed me in its flight. Alarmed at my situ-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 271
ation, I was obliged to descend on the other side
without taking the necessary precautions, and in my
fall nearly dislocated my ankle.
There was a door in the wall, of which I was not
previously apprised; and, this being opened, the two
men with the lantern were on the other side in an
instant. They had then nothing to do but to run along
the lane to the place from which I had descended. I
endeavoured to rise after my fall ; but the pain was so
intense, that I was scarcely able to stand, and, after
having limped a few paces, I twisted my foot under
me, and fell down again. I had now no remedy, and
quietly suffered myself to be retaken.
CHAPTER XIV.
I WAS conducted to the keeper's room for that night,
and the two men sat up with me. I was accosted with
many interrogatories, to which I gave little answer, but
complained of the hurt in my leg. To this I could
obtain no reply, except " Curse you, my lad ! if that
be all, we will give you some ointment for that; we
will anoint it with a little cold iron." They were indeed
excessively sulky with me, for having broken their
night's rest, and given them all this trouble. In the
morning they were as good as their word, fixing a pair
of fetters upon both my legs, regardless of the ankle
which was now swelled to a considerable size, and then
fastening me, with a padlock, to a staple in the floor of
my dungeon. I expostulated with warmth upon this
treatment, and told them, that I was a man upon whom
the law as yet had passed no censure, and who there-
fore, in the eye of the law, was innocent. But they
272 CALEB WILLIAMS.
bid me keep such fudge for people who knew no
better ; they knew what they did, and would answer
it to any court in England.
The pain of the fetter was intolerable. I endea-
voured in various ways to relieve it, and even privily
to free my leg; but the more it was swelled, the more
was this rendered impossible. I then resolved to bear
it with patience : still, the longer it continued, the
worse it grew. After two days and two nights, I en-
treated the turnkey to go and ask the surgeon, who
usually attended the prison, to look at it, for, if it
continued longer as it was, I was convinced it would
mortify. But he glared surlily at me, and said,
" Damn my blood ! I should like to see that day. To
die of a mortification is too good an end for such a
rascal!" At the time that he thus addressed me,
the whole mass of my blood was already fevered by
the anguish I had undergone, my patience was wholly
exhausted, and I was silly enough to be irritated be-
yond bearing, by his impertinence and vulgarity :
" Look, you, Mr, Turnkey," said I, " there is one
thing that such fellows as you are set over us for, and
another thing that you are not. You are to take care
we do not escape ; but it is no part of your office to
call us names and abuse us. If I were not chained to
the floor, you dare as well eat your fingers as use such
language ; and, take my word for it, you shall yet
live to repent of your insolence."
While I thus spoke, the man stared at me with
astonishment. He was so little accustomed to such
retorts, that, at first, he could scarcely believe his
ears ; and such was the firmness of my manner, that
he seemed to forget for a moment that I was not at
large. But, as soon as he had time to recollect him-
self, he did not deign to be angry. His face relaxed
CALEB WILLIAMS. 273
into a smile of contempt ; he snapped his fingers at me,
and, turning upon his heel, exclaimed, " Well said,
my cock ! crow 'away I Have a care you do not
burst 1 " and, as he shut the door upon me, mimicked
the voice of the animal he mentioned.
This rejoinder brought me to myself in a moment,
and showed me the impotence of the resentment I
was expressing. But, though he thus put an end to
the violence of my speech, the torture of my body
continued as great as ever. I was determined to
change my mode of attack. The same turnkey re-
turned in a few minutes ; and, as he approached me,
to put down some food he had brought, I slipped a
shilling into his hand, saying at the same time, •• My
good fellow, for God's sake, go to the surgeon ; I am
sure you do not wish me to perish for want of assist-
ance." The fellow put the shilling into his pocket,
looked hard at me, and then with one nod of his head,
and without uttering a single word, went away. The
surgeon presently after made his appearance; and,
finding the part in a high state of inflammation, or-
dered certain applications, and gave peremptory direc-
tions that the fetter should not be replaced upon that
leg, till a cure had been effected. It was a full month
before the leg was perfectly healed, and made equally
strong and flexible with the other.
The condition in which I was now placed, was
totally different from that which had preceded this
attempt. I was chained all day in my dungeon, with
no other mitigation, except that the door was regu-
larly opened for a few hours in an afternoon, at which
time some of the prisoners occasionally came and
spoke to me, particularly one, who, though he could
ill replace my benevolent Brightwel, was not deficient
in excellent qualities. This was no other than the
T
274- CALEB WILLIAMS.
individual whom Mr. Falkland had, some months be-
fore, dismissed upon an accusation of murder. His
courage was gone, his garb was squalid, and the come-
liness and clearness of his countenance was utterly
obliterated. He also was innocent, worthy, brave, and
benevolent. He was, I believe, afterwards acquitted,
and turned loose, to wander a desolate and perturbed
spectre through the world. My manual labours were
now at an end ; my dungeon was searched every
night, and every kind of tool carefully kept from me.
The straw, which had been hitherto allowed me, was
removed, under pretence that it was adapted for con-
cealment ; and the only conveniences with which I was
indulged, were a chair and a blanket.
A prospect of some alleviation in no long time
opened upon me ; but this my usual ill fortune ren-
dered abortive. The keeper once more made his ap-
pearance, and with his former constitutional and am-
biguous humanity. He pretended to be surprised at
my want of every accommodation. He reprehended
in strong terms my attempt to escape, and observed,
that there must be an end of civility from people in his
situation, if gentlemen, after all, would not know when
they were well. It was necessary, in cases the like of
this, to let the law take its course ; and it would be
ridiculous in me to complain, if, after a regular trial,
things should go hard with me. He was desirous of
being in every respect my friend, if I would let him.
In the midst of this circumlocution and preamble, he
was called away from me, for something relating to
the business of his office. In the mean time I rumi-
nated upon his overtures ; and, detesting as I did, the
source from which I conceived them to flow, I could
not help reflecting how far it would be possible to ex-
tract from them the means of escape. But my medi-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 275
tations in this case were vain. The keeper returned no
more during the remainder of that day, and, on the next,
an incident occurred which put an end to all expect-
ations from his kindness.
An active mind, which has once been forced into
any particular train, can scarcely be persuaded to
desert it as hopeless. I had studied my chains, during
the extreme anguish that I endured from the pressure
of the fetter upon the ankle which had been sprained ;
and though, from the swelling and acute sensibility of
the part, I had found all attempts at relief, in that in-
stance, impracticable, I obtained, from the coolness of
my investigation, another and apparently superior ad-
vantage. During the night, my dungeon was in a
complete state of darkness ; but, when the door was
open, the case was somewhat different. The passage
indeed into which it opened, was so narrow, and the
opposite dead wall so near, that it was but a glim-
mering and melancholy light that entered my apart-
ment, even at full noon, and when the door was at its
widest extent. But my eyes, after a practice of two
or three weeks, accommodated themselves to this cir-
cumstance, and I learned to distinguish the minutest
object. One day, as I was alternately meditating and
examining the objects around me, I chanced to observe
a nail trodden into the mud-floor at no great distance
from me. I immediately conceived the desire of pos-
sessing myself of this implement; but, for fear of
surprise, people passing perpetually to and fro, I con-
tented myself, for the present, with remarking its situ-
ation so accurately, that I might easily find it again in the
dark. Accordingly, as soon as my door was shut, I
seized upon this new treasure, and, having contrived to
fashion it to my purpose, found that I could unlock
with it the padlock that fastened me to the staple in
T 2
276 CALEB WILLIAMS.
the floor. This I regarded as no inconsiderable ad-
vantage, separately from the use I might derive from
it in relation to my principal object. My chain per-
mitted me to move only about eighteen inches to the
right or left ; and, having borne this confinement for
several weeks, my very heart leaped at the pitiful con-
solation of being able to range, without constraint, the
miserable coop in which I was immured. This, incident
had occurred several days previously to the last visit
of my keeper.
From this time it had been my constant practice
to liberate myself every night, and not to replace
things in their former situation till I awoke in the
morning, and expected shortly to perceive the entrance
of the turnkey. Security breeds negligence. On the
morning succeeding my conference with the jailor, it
so happened, whether I overslept myself, or the turnkey
went his round earlier than usual, that I was roused
from my sleep by the noise he made in opening the cell
next to my own ; and though I exerted the utmost
diligence, yet having to grope for my materials in the
dark, I was unable to fasten the chain to the staple,
before he entered, as usual, with his lantern. He was
extremely surprised to find me disengaged, and imme-
diately summoned the principal keeper. I was ques-
tioned respecting my method of proceeding ; and, as I
believed concealment could lead to nothing but a se-
verer search, and a more accurate watch, I readily ac-
quainted them with the exact truth. The illustrious
personage, whose functions it was to control the inha-
bitants of these walls, was, by this last instance, com-
pletely exasperated against me. Artifice and fair
speaking were at an end. His eyes sparkled with fury ;
he exclaimed, that he was now convinced of the folly
of showing kindness to rascals, the scum of the earth,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 277
such as I was ; and, damn him, if any body should
catch him at that again towards any one. I had cured
him effectually ! He was astonished that the laws had
not provided some terrible retaliation for thieves that
attempted to deceive their jailors. Hanging was a
thousand times too good for me !
Having vented his indignation, he proceeded to give
such orders as the united instigations of anger and
alarm suggested to his mind. My apartment was
changed. I was conducted to a room called the strong
room, the door of which opened into the middle cell of
the range of dungeons. It was under-ground, as they
were, and had also the day-room for felons, already
described, immediately over it. It was spacious and
dreary. The door had not been opened for years ; the
air was putrid ; and the walls hung round with damps
and mildew. The fetters, the padlock, and the staple,
were employed, as in the former case, in addition to
which they put on me a pair of handcuffs. For my
first provision, the keeper sent me nothing but a bit of
bread, mouldy and black, and some dirty and stinking
water. I know not indeed whether this is to be
regarded as gratuitous tyranny on the part of the jailor;
the law having providently directed, in certain cases,
that the water to be administered to the prisoners shall
be taken from " the next sink or puddle nearest to the
jail." * It was further ordered, that one of the turn-
keys should sleep in the cell that formed a son of anti-
chamber to my apartment. Though every convenience
was provided, to render this chamber fit for the reception
of a personage of a dignity so superior to the felon he
was appointed to guard, he expressed much dissatis-
faction at the mandate : but there was no alternative.
• In the caw of the peme forte et dure. See State Trials,
VoL I. anno 1615.
T 3
278 CALEB WILLIAMS.
The situation to which I was thus removed was,
apparently, the most undesirable that could be imagined;
but I was not discouraged ; I had for some time learned
not to judge by appearances. The apartment was
dark and unwholesome ; but I had acquired the secret
of counteracting these influences. My door was kept
continually shut, and the other prisoners were debarred
access to me ; but if the intercourse of our fellow-men
has its pleasure, solitude, on the other hand, is not
without its advantages. In solitude we can pursue our
own thoughts undisturbed ; and I was able to call up at
will the most pleasing avocations. Besides which, to
one who meditated such designs as now filled my mind,
solitude had peculiar recommendations. I was scarcely
left to myself, before I tried an experiment, the idea
of which I conceived, while they were fixing my hand-
cuffs ; and, with my teeth only, disengaged myself from
this restraint. The hours at which I was visited by
the keepers were regular, and I took care to be pro-
vided for them. Add to which, I had a narrow grated
window near the ceiling, about nine inches in perpen-
dicular, and a foot and a half horizontally, which, though
small, admitted a much stronger light than that to
which I had been accustomed for several weeks. Thus
circumstanced, I scarcely ever found myself in total
darkness, and was better provided against surprises
than I had been in my preceding situation. Such were
the sentiments which this change of abode immediately
suggested.
I had been a very little time removed, when I received
an unexpected visit from Thomas, Mr. Falkland's foot-
man, whom I have already mentioned in the course of
my narrative. A servant of Mr. Forester happened to
come to the town where I was imprisoned, a few weeks
before, while I was confined with the hurt in my ankle,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 279
and had called in to see me. The account he gave of
what he observed had been the source of many an
uneasy sensation to Thomas. The former visit was a
matter of mere curiosity ; but Thomas was of the better
order of servants. He was considerably struck at the
sight of me. Though my mind was now serene, and
my health sufficiently good, yet the floridness of my
complexion was gone, and there was a rudeness in my
physiognomy, the consequence of hardship and forti-
tude, extremely unlike the sleekness of my better days.
Thomas looked alternately in my face, at my hands, and
my feet ; and then fetched a deep sigh. After a pause,
" Lord bless us ! " said he, in a voice in which com-
miseration was sufficiently perceptible, " is this you?"
« Why not, Thomas? You knew I was sent to
prison, did not you?"
" Prison ! and must people in prison be sliackled
and bound of that fashion? — and where do you lay of
nights?"
"Here."
« Here ? Why there is no bed ! "
" No, Thomas, I am not allowed a bed. I had straw
formerly, but that is taken away."
•• And do they take off them there things of nights ?"
" No ; I am expected to sleep just as you see."
" Sleep ! Why I thought this was a Christian
country ; but this usage is too bad for a dog."
" You must not say so, Thomas ; it is what the wisdom
of government has thought fit to provide."
" Zounds, how I have been deceived ! They told
me what a fine thing it was to be an Englishman, and
about liberty and property, and all that there ; and I
find it is all a flam. Lord, what fools we be ! Things
are done under our very noses, and we know nothing of
the matter ; and a parcel of fellows with grave face*
T 4
280 CALEB WILLIAMS.
swear to us, that such things never happen but in
France, andother countries the like of that. Why, you
ha'n't been tried, ha' you?"
« No."
" And what signifies being tried, when they do worse
than hang a man, and all beforehand? Well, master
Williams, you have been very wicked to be sure, and
I thought it would have done me good to see you
hanged. But, I do not know how it is, one's heart
melts, and pity comes over one, if we take time to cool.
I know that ought not to be; but, damn it, when I
talked of your being hanged, I did not think of your
suffering all this into the bargain."
Soon after this conversation Thomas left me. The
idea of the long connection of our families rushed upon
his memory, and he felt more for my sufferings, at the
moment, than I did for myself. In the afternoon I was
surprised to see him again. He said that he could not
get the thought of me out of his mind, and therefore
he hoped I would not be displeased at his coming once
more to take leave of me. I could perceive that he had
something upon his mind, which he did not know how
to discharge. One of the turnkeys had each time come
into the room with him, and continued as long as he
staid. Upon some avocation however — a noise, I be-
lieve, in the passage — the turnkey went as far as the
door to satisfy his curiosity ; and Thomas, watching the
opportunity, slipped into my hand a chisel, a file, and
a saw, exclaiming at the same time with a sorrowful
tone, " I know I am doing wrong ; but, if they hang
me too, I cannot help it ; I cannot do no other. For
Christ's sake, get out of this place ; I cannot bear the
thoughts of it ! " I received the implements with great
joy, and thrust them into my bosom ; and, as soon as
he was gone, concealed them in the rushes of my chair.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 281
For himself he had accomplished the object for which
he came, and presently after bade me farewell.
The next day, the keepers, I know not for what
reason, were more than usually industrious in their
search, saying, though without assigning any ground
for their suspicion, that they were sure I had some tool
in my possession that I ought not ; but the depository
I had chosen escaped them.
I waited from this time the greater part of a week,
that I might have the benefit of a bright moonlight.
It was necessary that I should work in the night;
it was necessary that my operations should be per-
formed between the last visit of the keepers at night
and their first in the morning, that is, between nine
in the evening and seven. In my dungeon, as I have
already said, I passed fourteen or sixteen hours of the
four-and-twenty undisturbed ; but since I had acquired
a character for mechanical ingenuity, a particular ex-
ception with respect to me was made from the general
rules of the prison.
It was ten o'clock when I entered on my undertaking.
The room in which I was confined was secured with a
double door. This was totally superfluous for the pur-
pose of my detention, since there was a sentinel planted
on the outside. But it was very fortunate for my plan ;
because these doors prevented the easy communication
of sound, and afforded me tolerable satisfaction that,
with a little care in my mode of proceeding, I might
be secure against the danger of being overheard. I
first took off my hand-cuffs. I then filed through my
fetters ; and next performed the same service to three
of the iron bars that secured my window, to which I
climbed, partly by the assistance of my chair, and partly
by means of certain irregularities in the wall. All this
was the work of more than two hours. When the bars
282 CALEB WILLIAMS.
were filed through, I easily forced them a little from
the perpendicular, and then drew them, one by one,
out of the wall, into which they were sunk about three
inches perfectly straight, and without any precaution
to prevent their being removed. But the space thus
obtained was by no means wide enough to admit
the passing of my body. I therefore applied myself,
partly with my chisel, and partly with one of the iron
bars, to the loosening the brick-work ; and when I had
thus disengaged four or five bricks, I got down and
piled them upon the floor. This operation. I repeated
three or four times. The space was now sufficient for
my purpose ; and, having crept through the opening, I
stepped upon a shed on the outside.
I was now in a kind of rude area between two dead
walls, that south of the felons' day-room (the windows
of which were at the east end) and the wall of the
prison. But I had not, as formerly, any instruments
to assist me in scaling the wall, which was of consider-
able height. There was, of consequence, no resource
for me but that of effecting a practicable breach in the
lower part of the wall, which was of no contemptible
strength, being of stone on the outside, with a facing
of brick within. The rooms for the debtors were at
right angles with the building from which I had just
escaped ; and, as the night was extremely bright, I was
in momentary danger, particularly in case of the least
noise, of being discovered by them, several of their
windows commanding this area. Thus circumstanced,
I determined to make the shed answer the purpose of
concealment. It was locked; but, with the broken
link of my fetters, which I had had the precaution to
bring with me, I found no great difficulty in opening
the lock. I had now got a sufficient means of hiding
my person while I proceeded in my work, attended
CALEB WILLIAMS. 283
with no other disadvantage than that of being obliged
to leave the door, through which I had thus broken, a
little open for the sake of light. After some time, I
had removed a considerable part of the brick-work of
the outer wall ; but, when I came to the stone, I found
the undertaking infinitely more difficult. The mortar
which bound together the building was, by length of
time, nearly petrified, and appeared to my first efforts
one solid rock of the hardest adamant. I had now
been six hours incessantly engaged in incredible labour:
my chisel broke in the first attempt upon this new ob-
stacle ; and between fatigue already endured, and the
seemingly invincible difficulty before me, I concluded
that I must remain where I was, and gave up the idea
of further effort as useless. At the same time the moon,
whose light had till now been of the greatest use to
me, set, and I was left in total darkness.
After a respite of ten minutes however, I returned
to the attack with new vigour. It could not be less
than two hours before the first stone was loosened from
the edifice. In one hour more, the space was sufficient
to admit of my escape. The pile of bricks I had left
in the strong room was considerable. But it was a
mole-hill compared with the ruins I had forced from
the outer wall. I am fully assured that the work I had
thus performed would have been to a common labourer,
with every advantage of tools, the business of two or
three days.
But my difficulties, instead of being ended, seemed
to be only begun. The day broke, before I had com-
pleted the opening, and in ten minutes more the
keepers would probably enter my apartment, and per-
ceive the devastation I had left. The lane, which
connected the side of the prison through which I had
escaped with the adjacent country, was formed chiefly
284? CALEB WILLIAMS.
by two dead walls, with here and there a stable, a few
warehouses, and some mean habitations, tenanted by
the lower order of people. My best security lay in
clearing the town as soon as possible, and depending
upon the open country for protection. My arms were
intolerably swelled and bruised with my labour, and my
strength seemed wholly exhausted with fatigue. Speed
I was nearly unable to exert for any continuance ; and,
if I could, with the enemy so close at my heels, speed
would too probably have been useless. It appeared
as if I were now in almost the same situation as that
in which I had been placed five or six weeks before, in
which, after having completed my escape, I was obliged
to yield myself up, without resistance, to my pursuers.
I was not however disabled as then ; I was capable of
exertion, to what precise extent I could not ascertain ;
and I was well aware, that every instance in which I
should fail of my purpose would contribute to enhance
the difficulty of any future attempt. Such were the
considerations that presented themselves in relation to
my escape ; and, even if that were effected, I had to
reckon among my difficulties, that, at the time I quitted
my prison, I was destitute of every resource, and had
not a shilling remaining in the world.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 285
VOLUME THE THIRD.
CHAPTER I.
I PASSED along the lane I have described, without
perceiving or being observed by a human being. The
doors were shut, the window-shutters closed, and all
was still as night. I reached the extremity of the
lane unmolested. My pursuers, if they immediately
followed, would know that the likelihood was small, of
my having in the interval found shelter in this place ;
and would proceed without hesitation, as I on my part
was obliged to do, from the end nearest to the prison
to its furthest termination.
The face of the country, in the spot to which I had
thus opened myself a passage, was rude and uncul-
tivated. It was overgrown with brushwood and furze ;
the soil was for the most part of a loose sand ; and the
surface extremely irregular. I climbed a small emi-
nence, and could perceive, not very remote in the
distance, a few cottages thinly scattered. This prospect
did not altogether please me; I conceived that my
safety would, for the present, be extremely assisted, by
keeping myself from the view of any human being.
I therefore came down again into the valley, and
upon a careful examination perceived that it was in-
terspersed with cavities, some deeper than others, but
all of them so shallow, as neither to be capable of
hiding a man, nor of exciting suspicion as places of
possible concealment. Meanwhile the day had but
just begun to dawn ; the morning was lowring and
286 CALEB WILLIAMS.
drizzly ; and, though the depth of these caverns was
of course well known to the neighbouring inhabitants,
the shadows they cast were so black and impenetrable,
as might well have produced wider expectations in the
mind of a stranger. Poor therefore as was the pro-
tection they were able to afford, I thought it right to
have recourse to it for the moment, as the best the
emergency would supply. It was for my life ; and, the
greater was the jeopardy to which it was exposed, the
more dear did that life seem to become to my affections.
The recess I chose, as most secure, was within little
more than a hundred yards of the end of the lane, and
the extreme buildings of the town.
I had not stood up in this manner two minutes,
before I heard the sound of feet, and presently saw the
ordinary turnkey and another pass the place of my
retreat. They were so close to me that, if I had
stretched out my hand, I believe I could have caught
hold of their clothes, without so much as changing my
posture. As no part of the overhanging earth in-
tervened between me and them, I could see them
entire, though the deepness of the shade rendered me
almost completely invisible. I heard them say to each
other, in tones of vehement asperity, "Curse the rascal I
which way can he be gone ?" The reply was, " Damn
him I I wish we had him but safe once again !" — " Never
fear !" rejoined the first; "he cannot have above half a
mile the start of us." They were presently out of
hearing ; for, as to sight, I dared not advance my body,
so much as an inch, to look after them, lest I should be
discovered by my pursuers in some other direction.
From the very short time that elapsed, between my
escape and the appearance of these men, I concluded
that they had made their way through the same outlet
as I had done, it being impossible that they could have
CALEB WILLIAMS. 287
had time to come, from the gate of the prison, and so
round a considerable part of the town, as they must
otherwise have done.
I was so alarmed at this instance of diligence on the
part of the enemy, that, for some time, I scarcely
ventured to proceed an inch from my place of conceal-
ment, or almost to change my posture. The morning,
which had been bleak and drizzly, was succeeded by a
day of heavy and incessant rain ; and the gloomy state
of the air and surrounding objects, together with the
extreme nearness of my prison, and a total want of
food, caused me to pass the hours in no very agreeable
sensations. This inclemency of the weather however,
which generated a feeling of stillness and solitude,
encouraged me by degrees to change my retreat, for
another of the same nature, but of somewhat greater
security. I hovered with little variation about a single
spot, as long as the sun continued above the horizon.
Towards evening, the clouds began to disperse, and
the moon shone, as on the preceding night, in full
brightness. I had perceived no human creature during
the whole day, except in the instance already men-
tioned. This had perhaps been owing to the nature
of the day ; at all events I considered it as too hazardous
an experiment, to venture from my hiding-place in so
clear and fine a night. I was therefore obliged to
wait for the setting of this luminary, which was not till
near five o'clock in the morning. My only relief during
this interval was to allow myself to sink to the bottom
of my cavern, it being scarcely possible for me to
continue any longer on my feet. Here I fell into an
interrupted and unrefreshing doze, the consequence of
a laborious night, and a tedious, melancholy day ;
though I rather sought to avoid sleep, which, co-
288 CALEB WILLIAMS.
operating with the coldness of the season, would tend
more to injury than advantage.
The period of darkness, which I had determined to
use for the purpose of removing to a greater distance
from my prison, was, in its whole duration, something
less than three hours. When I rose from my seat, I
was weak with hunger and fatigue, and, which was
worse, I seemed, between the dampness of the pre-
ceding day and the sharp, clear frost of the night, to
have lost the command of my limbs. I stood up and
shook myself; I leaned against the side of the hill,
impelling in different directions the muscles of the
extremities ; and at length recovered in some degree
the sense of feeling. This operation was attended with
an incredible aching pain, and required no common
share of resolution to encounter and prosecute it.
Having quitted my retreat, I at first advanced with weak
and tottering steps ; but, as I proceeded, increased my
pace. The barren heath, which reached to the edge of
the town, was, at least on this side, without a path ; but
the stars shone, and, guiding myself by them, I deter-
mined to steer as far as possible from the hateful scene
where I had been so long confined. The line I pursued
was of irregular surface, sometimes obliging me to
climb a steep ascent, and at others to go down into a
dark and impenetrable dell. I was often compelled, by
the dangerousness of the way, to deviate considerably
from the direction I wished to pursue. In the mean
time I advanced with as much rapidity as these and
similar obstacles would permit me to do. The swiftness
of the motion, and the thinness of the air, restored to
me my alacrity. I forgot the inconveniences under
which I laboured, and my mind became lively, spirited,
and enthusiastic.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 289
I had now reached the border of the heath, and
entered upon what is usually termed the forest. Strange
as it may seem, it is nevertheless true, that, in this
conjuncture, exhausted with hunger, destitute of all
provision for the future, and surrounded with the
most alarming dangers, my mind suddenly became
glowing, animated, and cheerful. I thought that, by
this time, the most formidable difficulties of my un-
dertaking were surmounted ; and I could not believe
that, after having effected so much, I should find any
thing invincible in what remained to be done. I re-
collected the confinement I had undergone, and the
fate that had impended over me, with horror. Never
did man feel more vividly, than I felt at that moment,
the sweets of liberty. Never did man more stren-
uously prefer poverty with independence, to the
artificial allurements of a life of slavery. ^ I stretched
forth my arms with rapture; I clapped my hands
one upon the other, and exclaimed, •• Ah, this is
indeed to be a man ! These wrists were lately galled
with fetters ; all my motions, whether I rose up or sat
down, were echoed to with the clanking of chains ; I
was tied down like a wild beast, and could not move
but in a circle of a few feet in circumference. Now I
can run fleet as a greyhound, and leap like a young
roe upon the mountains. Oh, God I (if God there be
that condescends to record the lonely beatings of an
anxious heart) thou only canst tell with what delight a
prisoner, just broke forth from his dungeon, hugs the
blessings of new-found liberty ! Sacred and indescribable
moment, when man regains his rights ! But lately I
held my life in jeopardy, because one man was un-
principled enough to assert what he knew to be false ;
I was destined to suffer an early and inexorable death
from the hands of others, because none of them
u
290 CALEB WILLIAMS.
had penetration enough to distinguish from falsehood,
what I uttered with the entire conviction of a full-
fraught heart! Strange, that men, from age to age,
should consent to hold their lives at the breath of
another, merely that each in his turn may have a power
of acting the tyrant according to law ! Oh, God ! give
me poverty ! shower upon me all the imaginary hard-
ships of human life ! I will receive them all with thank-
fulness. Turn me a prey to the wild beasts of the
desert, so I be never again the victim of man, dressed
in the gore-dripping robes of authority I Suffer me at
least to call life, and the pursuits of life, my own ! Let
me hold it at the mercy of the elements, of the hunger
of beasts, or the revenge of barbarians, but not of the
cold-blooded prudence of monopolists and kings!" —
How enviable was the enthusiasm which could thus
furnish me with energy, in the midst of hunger,
poverty, and universal desertion !
I had now walked at least six miles. At first I care-
fully avoided the habitations that lay in my way, and
feared to be seen by any of the persons to whom they
belonged, lest it should in any degree furnish a clue to
the researches of my pursuers. As I went forward, I
conceived it might be proper to relax a part of my
precaution. At this time I perceived several persons
coming out of a thicket close to me. I immediately
considered this circumstance as rather favourable than
the contrary. It was necessary for me to avoid enter-
ing any of the towns and villages in the vicinity. It
was however full time that I should procure for myself
some species of refreshment, and by no means im-
probable that these men might be in some way assist-
ing to me in that respect. In my situation it appeared
to me indifferent what might be their employment or
profession. I had little to apprehend from thieves,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 291
and I believed that they, as well as honest men, could
not fail to have some compassion for a person under
my fircum-nuicTs. J thuvfore rather threw myself in
their way than avoided them.
They were thieves. One of the company cried out,
" Who goes there ? stand ! " I accosted them ; "Gentle-
men," said I, " I am a poor traveller, almost "
While I spoke, they came round me; and he that
had first hailed me, said, " Damn me, tip us none of
your palaver; we have heard that story of a poor
traveller any time these five years. Come, down
with your dust ! let us see what you have got ! "— -
u Sir," I replied, " I have not a shilling in the world,
and am more than half starved beside." — " Not a
shilling ! " answered my assailant, " what, I suppose
you are as poor as a thief? But, if you have not
money, you have clothes, and those you must resign.'*
44 My clothes I" rejoined I with indignation, " you
cannot desire such a thing. Is it not enough that I
am pennyless ? I have been all night upon the open
heath. It is now the second day that I have not eaten
a morsel of bread. Would you strip me naked to the
weather in the midst of this depopulated forest ? No,
no, you are men I The same hatred of oppression,
that arms you against the insolence of wealth, will
teach you to relieve those who are perishing like me.
For God's sake, give me food I do not strip me of the
comforts I still possess I "
While I uttered this apostrophe, the unpremeditated
eloquence of sentiment, I could perceive by their ges-
tures, though the day had not yet begun to dawn, that
the feelings of one or two of the company appeared
to take my part. The man, who had already under-
taken to be their spokesman, perceived the same thing ;
and, excited either by the brutality of his temper or the
u 2
292 CALEB WILLIAMS.
love of command, hastened to anticipate the disgrace
of a defeat. He brushed suddenly up to me, and by
main force pushed me several feet from the place
where I stood. The shock I received drove me
upon a second of the gang, not one of those who
had listened to my expostulation ; and he repeated
the brutality. My indignation was strongly excited
by this treatment ; and, after being thrust backward
and forward two or three times in this manner, I broke
through my assailants, and turned round to defend
myself. The first that advanced within my reach,
was my original enemy. In the present moment I
listened to nothing but the dictates of passion, and I
iaid him at his length on the earth. I was imme-
diately assailed with sticks and bludgeons on all sides,
and presently received a blow that almost deprived me
of my senses. The man I had knocked down was
now upon his feet again, and aimed a stroke at me
with a cutlass as I fell, which took place in a deep
wound upon my neck and shoulder. He was going
to repeat his blow. The two who had seemed to
waver at first in their animosity, afterwards appeared
to me to join in the attack, urged either by animal
sympathy or the spirit of imitation. One of them
however, as I afterwards, understood, seized the arm
of the man who was going to strike me a second
time with his cutlass, and who would otherwise pro-
bably have put an end to my existence. I could
hear the words, " Damn it, enough, enough ! that
is too bad, Gines ! " — " How so ? " replied a second
voice ; " he will but pine here upon the forest, and
die by inches : it will be an act of charity to put
him out of his pain." — It will be imagined that I was
not uninterested in this sort of debate. I made an
effort to speak ; my voice failed me. I stretched out
CALEB WILLIAMS. 293
one hand with a gesture of entreaty. " You shall
not strike, by God ! " said one of the voices ; " why
should we be murderers ? '* — The side of forbearance
at length prevailed. They therefore contented them-
selves with stripping me of my coat and waistcoat,
and rolling me into a dry ditch. They then left me
totally regardless of my distressed condition, and the
plentiful effusion of blood, which streamed from my
wound.
CHAPTER II.
IN this woeful situation, though extremely weak, I was
not deprived of sense. I tore my shirt from my naked
body, and endeavoured, with some success, to make of
it a bandage to staunch the flowing of the blood. I
then exerted myself to crawl up the side of the ditch.
I had scarcely effected the latter, when, with equal
surprise and joy, I perceived a man advancing at no
great distance. I called for help as well as I could.
The man came towards me with evident signs of com-
passion, and the appearance I exhibited was indeed
sufficiently calculated to excite it. I had no hat. My
hair was dishevelled, and the ends of the locks clotted
with blood. My shirt was wrapped about my neck and
shoulders, and was plentifully stained with red. My
body, which was naked to my middle, was variegated
with streams of blood ; nor had my lower garments,
which were white, by any means escaped.
" For God's sake, my good fellow ! " said he, with a
tone of the greatest imaginable kindness, " how came
you thus ? " and, saying this, he lifted me up, and set
me on my feet. •• Can you stand ? " added he, doubt-
u 3
CALEB WILLIAMS,
fully. « Oh, yes, very well," I replied. Having re-
ceived this answer, he quitted me, and began to take
off his own coat, that he might cover me from the
cold. I had however over-rated my strength, and
was no sooner left to myself than I reeled, and fell
almost at my length upon the ground. But I broke
my fall by stretching out my sound arm, and again
raised myself upon my knees. My benefactor now
covered me, raised me, and, bidding me lean upon him,
told me he would presently conduct me to a place
where I should be taken care of. Courage is a capri-
cious property; and, though while I had no one to
depend upon but myself, I possessed a mine of seem-
ingly inexhaustible fortitude, yet no sooner did I find
this unexpected sympathy on the part of another, than
my resolution appeared to give way, and I felt ready
to faint. My charitable conductor perceived this, and
every now and then encouraged me, in a manner so
cheerful, so good humoured and benevolent, equally
free from the torture of droning expostulation, and the
weakness of indulgence, that I thought myself under
the conduct of an angel rather than a man. I could
perceive that his behaviour had in it nothing of boor-
ishness, and that he was thoroughly imbued with the
principles of affectionate civility.
We walked about three quarters of a mile, and that
not towards the open, but the most uncouth and un-
frequented part of the forest. We crossed a place
which had once been a moat, but which was now in
some parts dry, and in others contained a little muddy
and stagnated water. Within the enclosure of this
moat, I could only discover a pile of ruins, and several
walls, the upper part of which seemed to overhang
their foundations, and to totter to their ruin. After
having entered however with my conductor through
CALEB WILLIAMS. 295
an archway, and passed along a winding passage that
\\a> perfectly dark, we came to a stand.
At the upper end of this passage was a door, which
I was unable to perceive. My conductor knocked at
the door, and was answered by a voice from within,
which, for body and force, might have been the voice
of a man, but with a sort of female sharpness and
acidity, enquiring, " Who is there ? " Satisfaction was
DO sooner given on this point, than I heard two bolts
pushed back, and the door unlocked. The apartment
opened, and we entered. The interior of this habit-
ation by no means corresponded with the appearance
of my protector, but, on the contrary, wore the face of
discomfort, carelessness, and dirt. The only person I
saw within was a woman, rather advanced in life, and
whose person had I know not what of extraordinary
and loathsome. Her eyes were red and blood-shot;
her hair was pendent in matted and shaggy tresses
about her shoulders ; her complexion swarthy, and of
the consistency of parchment ; her form spare, and her
whole body, her arms in particular, uncommonly ri-
gorous and muscular. Not the milk of human kind*
ness, but the feverous blood of savage ferocity, seemed
to flow from her heart ; and her whole figure suggested
an idea of unmitigable energy, and an appetite gorged
in malevolence. This infernal Thalestris had no sooner
cast her eyes upon us as we entered, than she ex-
claimed in a discordant and discontented voice, " What
have we got here ? this is not one of our people !" My
conductor, without answering this apostrophe, bade her
push an easy chair which stood in one corner, and set
it directly before the fire. This she did with apparent
reluctance, murmuring, " Ah ! you are at your old
tricks ; I wonder what such folks as we have to do with
charity ! It will be the ruin of us at last, I can see
u 4
296 CALEB WILLIAMS.
that ! " — " Hold your tongue, beldam ! " said he, with a
stern significance of manner, and fetch one of my best
shirts, a waistcoat, and some dressings." Saying this,
he at the same time put into her hand a small bunch
of keys. In a word, he treated me with as much kind-
ness as if he had been my father. He examined my
wound, washed and dressed it ; at the same time that
the old woman, by his express order, prepared for me
such nourishment as he thought most suitable to my
weak and languid condition.
These operations were no sooner completed than
my benefactor recommended to me to retire to rest,
and preparations were making for that purpose, when
suddenly a trampling of feet was heard, succeeded by
a knock at the door. The old woman opened the door
with the same precautions as had been employed upon
our arrival, and immediately six or seven persons tu-
multuously entered the apartment. Their appearance
was different, some having the air of mere rustics, and
others that of a tarnished sort of gentry. All had a
feature of boldness, inquietude, and disorder, extremely
unlike any thing I had before observed in such a group.
But my astonishment was still increased, when upon a
second glance I perceived something in the general
air of several of them, and of one in particular, that
persuaded me they were the gang from which I had
just escaped, and this one the antagonist by whose
animosity I was so near having been finally destroyed.
I imagined they had entered the hovel with a hostile
intention, that my benefactor was upon the point of
being robbed, and I probably murdered.
This suspicion however was soon removed. They
addressed my conductor with respect, under the ap-
pellation of captain. They were boisterous and noisy
in their remarks and exclamations, but their turbulence
CALEB WILLIAMS. 297
was tempered by a certain deference to his opinion
and authority. I could observe in the person who had
been my active opponent some awkwardness and irre-
solution as he first perceived me, which he dismissed
with a sort of effort, exclaiming, " Who the devil is
here ?" There was something in the tone of this apos-
trophe that roused the attention of my protector. He
looked at the speaker with a fixed and penetrating
glance, and then said, " Nay, Gines, do you know ? Did
you ever see the person before?" — " Curse it, Gines!'*
interrupted a third, " you are damnably out of luck.
They say dead men walk, and you see there is some
truth in it." — " Truce with your impertinence, Jeckols 1"
replied my protector : " this is no proper occasion for
a joke. Answer me, Gines, were you the cause of this
young man being left naked and wounded this bitter
morning upon the forest ? "
" Mayhap I was. What then ? "
•• What provocation could induce you to so cruel a
treatment?"
" Provocation enough. He had no money."
" What, did you use him thus, without so much as
being irritated by any resistance on his part ? "
•• Yes, he did resist. I only hustled him, and he had
the impudence to strike me."
" Gines ! you are an incorrigible fellow."
" Pooh, what signifies what I am ? You, with your
compassion, and your fine feelings, will bring us all to
the gallows."
" I have nothing to say to you ; I have no hopes of
you ! Comrades, it is for you to decide upon the con-
duct of this man as you think proper. You know how
repeated his offences have been; you know what pains.
I have taken to mend him. Our profession is the pro-
fession of justice." [It is thus that the prejudices of
298 CALEB WILLIAMS.
men universally teach them to colour the most des-
perate cause to which they have determined to adhere.]
" We, who are thieves without a licence, are at open war
with another set of men who are thieves according to
law. With such a cause then to bear us out, shall we
stain it with cruelty, malice, and revenge ? A thief is,
of course, a man living among his equals ; I do not
pretend therefore to assume any authority among
you ; act as you think proper ; but, so far as relates to
myself, I vote that Gines be expelled from among us
as a disgrace to our society."
This proposition seemed to meet the general sense.
It was easy to perceive that the opinion of the rest
coincided with that of their leader; notwithstanding
which a few of them hesitated as to the conduct to be
pursued. In the mean time Gines muttered some-
thing in a surly and irresolute way, about taking care
how they provoked him. This insinuation instantly
roused the courage of my protector, and his eyes flashed
with contempt.
" Rascal ! " said he, " do you menace us ? Do you
think we will be your slaves ? No, no, do your worst !
Go to the next justice of the peace, and impeach us ; I
can easily believe you are capable of it. Sir, when we
entered into this gang, we were not such fools as not
to know that we entered upon a service of danger. One
of its dangers consists in the treachery of fellows like
you. But we did not enter at first to flinch now. Did
you believe that we would live in hourly fear of you,
tremble at your threats, and compromise, whenever
you should so please, with your insolence ? That would
be a blessed life indeed ! I would rather see my flesh
torn piecemeal from my bones ! Go, sir ! I defy you t
You dare not do it ! You dare not sacrifice these
gallant fellows to your rage, and publish yourself to all
CALEB WILLIAMS. 299
the world a traitor and a scoundrel ! If you do, you
will punish yourself, not us ! Begone I "
The intrepidity of the leader communicated itself to
the rest of the company. Gines easily saw that there
was no hope of bringing them over to a contrary senti-
ment. After a short pause, he answered, " I did not
mean — No, damn it I I will not snivel neither. I was
always true to my principles, and a friend to you all.
But since you are resolved to turn me out, why —
good bye to you I "
The expulsion of this man produced a remarkable
improvement in the whole gang. Those who were
before inclined to humanity, assumed new energy in
proportion as they saw such sentiments likely to prevail.
They had before suffered themselves to be overborne
by the boisterous insolence of their antagonist ; but
now they adopted, and with success, a different con-
duct. Those who envied the ascendancy of their
comrade, and therefore imitated his conduct, began
to hesitate iji their career. Stories were brought for-
ward of the cruelty and brutality of Gines both to men
and animals, which had never before reached the ear
of the leader. The stories I shall not repeat. They
could excite only emotions of abhorrence and disgust;
and some of them argued a mind of such a stretch of
depravity, as to many readers would appear utterly in-
credible ; and yet this man had his virtues. He was
enterprising, persevering, and faithful
His removal was a considerable benefit to me. It
would have been no small hardship to have been turned
adrift immediately under iny unfavourable circum-
stances, with the additional disadvantage of the wound
I had received; and yet I could scarcely have ven-
tured to remain under the same roof with a man, to
whom my appearance was as a guilty conscience, per-
300 CALEB WILLIAMS.
petually reminding him of his own offence, and the
displeasure of his leader. His profession accustomed
him to a certain degree of indifference to consequences,
and indulgence to the sallies of passion ; and he might
easily have found his opportunity to insult or injure
me, when I should have had nothing but my own de-
bilitated exertions to protect me.
Freed from this danger, I found my situation suffi-
ciently fortunate for a man under my circumstances.
It was attended with all the advantages for conceal-
ment my fondest imagination could have hoped ; and
it was by no means destitute of the benefits which
arise from kindness and humanity. Nothing could be
more unlike than the thieves I had seen in jail,
and the thieves of my new residence. The latter were
generally full of cheerfulness and merriment. They
could expatiate freely wherever they thought proper.
They could form plans and execute them. They con-
sulted their inclinations. They did not impose upon
themselves the task, as is too often the case in human
society, of seeming tacitly to approve that from which
they suffered most ; or, which is worst, of persuading
themselves that all the wrongs they suffered were right;
but were at open war with their oppressors. On the
contrary, the imprisoned felons I had lately seen were
shut up like wild beasts in a cage, deprived of activity,
and palsied with indolence. The occasional demon-
strations that still remained of their former enter-
prising life were the starts and convulsions of disease,
not the meditated and consistent exertions of a mind
in health. They had no more of hope, of project, of
golden and animated dreams, but were reserved to the
most dismal prospects, and forbidden to think upon any
other topic. It is true, that these two scenes were
parts of one whole, the one the consummation, the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 301
hourly to be expected successor of the other. But the
men I now saw were wholly inattentive to this, and in
that respect appeared to hold no commerce with re-
flection or reason.
I might in one view, as I have said, congratulate
myself upon my present residence ; it answered com-
plrti'ly the purposes of concealment. It was the seat
of merriment and hilarity ; but the hilarity that cha-
racterised it produced no correspondent feelings in my
bosom. The persons who composed this society had
each of them cast off all control from established prin-
ciple ; their trade was terror, and their constant object
to elude the vigilance of the community. The influence
of these circumstances was visible in their character.
I found among them benevolence and kindness : they
were strongly susceptible of emotions of generosity.
But, as their situation was precarious, their dispositions
were proportionably fluctuating. Inured to the ani-
mosity of their species, they were irritable and pas-
sionate. Accustomed to exercise harshness towards
the subject of their depredations, they did not always
confine their brutality within that scope. They were
habituated to consider wounds and bludgeons and
stabbing as the obvious mode of surmounting every
difficulty. Uninvolved in the debilitating routine of
human affairs, they frequently displayed an energy
which, from every impartial observer, would have ex-
torted veneration. Energy is perhaps of all qualities
the most valuable ; and a just political system would
possess the means of extracting from it, thus circum-
stanced, its beneficial qualities, instead of consigning
it, as now, to indiscriminate destruction. We act like
the chemist, who should reject the finest ore, and em-
ploy none but what was sufficiently debased to fit it
immediately for the vilest uses. But the energy of
302 CALEB WILLIAMS.
these men, such as I beheld it, was in the highest degree
misapplied, unassisted by liberal and enlightened views,
and directed only to the most narrow and contemptible
purposes.
The residence I have been describing might to many
persons have appeared attended with intolerable incon-
veniences. But, exclusively of its advantages as a field
for speculation, it was Elysium, compared with that
from which I had just escaped. Displeasing company,
incommodious apartments, filthiness, and riot, lost the
circumstance by which they could most effectually dis-
gust, when I was not compelled to remain with them.
All hardships I could patiently endure, in comparison
with the menace of a violent and untimely death. There
was no suffering that I could not persuade myself to
consider as trivial, except that which flowed from the
tyranny, the frigid precaution, or the inhuman revenge
of my own species.
My recovery advanced in the most favourable man-
ner. The attention and kindness of my protector were
incessant, and the rest caught the spirit from his ex-
ample. The old woman who superintended the house-
hold still retained her animosity. She considered me as
the cause of the expulsion of Gines from the fraternity.
Gines had been the object of her particular partiality ;
and, zealous as she was for the public concern, she
thought an old and experienced sinner for a raw pro-
bationer but an ill exchange. Add to which, that her
habits inclined her to moroseness and discontent, and
that persons of her complexion seem unable to exist
without some object upon which to pour out the super-
fluity of their gall. She lost no opportunity, upon the
most trifling occasion, of displaying her animosity; and
ever and anon eyed me with a furious glance of canine
hunger for my destruction. Nothing was more evi-
CALEB WILLIAMS.
dently mortifying to her, than the procrastination of her
malice ; nor could she bear to think that a fierceness so
gigantic and uncontrollable should show itself in nothing
more terrific than the pigmy spite of a chambermaid!
For myself, I had been accustomed to the warfare of
formidable adversaries, and the encounter of alarming
dangers ; and what I saw of her spleen had not power
sufficient to disturb my tranquillity.
As I recovered, I told my story, except so far as
related to the detection of Mr. Falkland's eventful
secret, to my protector. That particular I could not,
as yet, prevail upon myself to disclose, even in a situ-
ation like this, which seemed to preclude the possibility
of its being made use of to the disadvantage of my per-
secutor. My present auditor however, whose habits
of thinking were extremely opposite to those of Mr.
Forester, did not, from the obscurity which flowed from
this reserve, deduce any unfavourable conclusion. His
penetration was such, as to afford little room for an im-
postor to hope to mislead him by a fictitious statement,
and he confided in that penetration. So confiding, the
simplicity and integrity of my manner carried convic-
tion to his mind, and insured his good opinion and
friendship.
He listened to my story with eagerness, and com-
mented on the several parts as I related them. He
said, that this was only one fresh instance of the
tyranny and perfidiousness exercised by the powerful
members of the community, against those who were
less privileged than themselves. Nothing could be
more clear, than their readiness to sacrifice the human
species at large to their meanest interest or wildest
caprice. Who that saw the situation in its true light
would wait till their oppressors thought fit to decree
their destruction, and not take arms in their defence
304? CALEB WILLIAMS.
while it was yet in their power ? Which was most
meritorious, the unresisting and dastardly submission
of a slave, or the enterprise and gallantry of the man
who dared to assert his claims ? Since, by the partial
administration of our laws, innocence, when power was
armed against it, had nothing better to hope for than
guilt, what man of true courage would fail to set these
laws at defiance, and, if he must suffer by their in-
justice, at least take care that he had first shown his
contempt of their yoke? For himself, he should certainly
never have embraced his present calling, had he not
been stimulated to it by these cogent and irresistible
reasons ; and he hoped, as experience had so forcibly
brought a conviction of this sort to my mind, that he
should for the future have the happiness to associate
me to his pursuits. — It will presently be seen with
what event these hopes were attended.
Numerous were the precautions exercised by the
gang of thieves with whom I now resided, to elude the
vigilance of the satellites of justice. It was one of
their rules to commit no depredations but at a con-
siderable distance from the place of their residence ;
and Gines had transgressed this regulation in the
attack to which I was indebted for my present asylum.
After having possessed themselves of any booty, they
took care, in the sight of the persons whom they had
robbed, to pursue a route as nearly as possible opposite
to that which led to their true haunts. The appearance
of their place of residence, together with its environs,
was peculiarly desolate and forlorn, and it had the
reputation of being haunted. The old woman I have
described had long been its inhabitant, and was com-
monly supposed to be its only inhabitant ; and her
person well accorded with the rural ideas of a witch.
Her lodgers never went out or came in but with the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 305
utmost circumspection, and generally by night. The
lights which were occasionally seen from various parts
of her habitation, were, by the country people, regarded
with horror as supernatural ; and if the noise of revelry
at any time saluted their ears, it was imagined to
proceed from a carnival of devils. With all these
advantages, the thieves did not venture to reside here
but by intervals : they frequently absented themselves
for months, and removed to a different part of the
country. The old woman sometimes attended them in
these transportations, and sometimes remained ; but in
all cases her decampment took place either sooner or
later than theirs, so that the nicest observer could
scarcely have traced any connection between her re-
appearance, and the alarms of depredation that were
frequently given ; and the festival of demons seemed,
to the terrified rustics, indifferently to take place
whether she were present or absent.
CHAPTER III.
ONE day, while I continued in this situation, a cir-
cumstance occurred which involuntarily attracted my
attention. Two of our people had been sent to a town
at some distance, for the purpose of procuring us the
things of which we were in want. After having de-
livered these to our landlady, they retired to one corner
of the room ; and, one of them pulling a printed paper
from his pocket, they mutually occupied themselves in
examining its contents. I was sitting in an easy chair
by the fire, being considerably better than I had been,
though still in a weak and languid state. Having read
for a considerable time, they looked at me, and then at
306 CALEB WILLIAMS.
the paper, and then at me again. They then went out
of the room together, as if to consult without in-
terruption upon something which that paper suggested
to them. Some time after they returned ; and my
protector, who had been absent upon the former oc-
casion, entered the room at the same instant.
" Captain !" said one of them with an air of pleasure,
" look here ! we have found a prize ! I believe it is as
good as. a bank-note of a hundred guineas."
Mr. Raymond (that was his name) took the paper,
and read. He paused for a moment. He then crushed
the paper in his hand ; and, turning to the person from
whom he had received it, said, with the tone of a man
confident in the success of his reasons, —
" What use have you for these hundred guineas ?
Are you in want ? Are you in distress ? Can you be
contented to purchase them at the price of treachery —
of violating the laws of hospitality ? "
" Faith, captain, I do not very well know. After
having violated other laws, I do not see why we should
be frightened at an old saw. We pretend to judge for
ourselves, and ought to be above shrinking from a
bugbear of a proverb. Beside, this is a good deed, and
I should think no more harm of being the ruin of such
a thief than of getting my dinner."
" A thief! You talk of thieves I"
" Not so fast, captain. God defend that I should
say a word against thieving as a general occupation !
But one man steals in one way, and another in another.
For my part, I go upon the highway, and take from
any stranger I meet what, it is a hundred to one, he can
very well spare. I see nothing to be found fault with
in that. But I have as much conscience as another
man. Because I laugh at assizes, and great wigs, and
the gallows, and because I will not be frightened from
CALEB WILLIAMS. 307
an innocent action when the lawyers say me nay,
does it follow that I am to have a fellow-feeling for
pilferers, and rascally servants, and people that have
neither justice nor principle ? No ; I have too much
respect for the trade not to be a foe to interlopers,
and people that so much the more deserve my hatred,
because the world calls them by my name."
" You are wrong, Larkins ! You certainly ought not
to employ against people that you hate, supposing your
hatred to be reasonable, the instrumentality of that
law which in your practice you defy. Be consistent.
Either be the friend of the law, or its adversary.
Depend upon it that, wherever there are laws at all,
there will be laws against such people as you and me.
Either therefore we all of us deserve the vengeance of
the law, or law is not the proper instrument for correct-
ing the misdeeds of mankind. I tell you this, because I
would fain have you aware, that an informer or a king's
evidence, a man who takes advantage of the confidence
of another in order to betray him, who sells the life of
his neighbour for money, or, coward-like, upon any
pretence calls in the law to do that for him which he
cannot or dares not do for himself, is the vilest of
rascals. But in the present case, if your reasons were
the best in the world, they do not apply/1
While Mr. Raymond was speaking, the rest of the
gang came into the room. He immediately turned to
them, and said, —
" My friends, here is a piece of intelligence that
Larkins has just brought in which, with his leave, I
will lay before you."
Then unfolding the paper he had received, he con-
tinued : "This is the description of a felon, with the
offer of a hundred guineas for his apprehension. Larkins
picked it up at . By the time and other circum-
x 2
308 CALEB WILLIAMS.
stances, but particularly by the minute description of
his person, there can be no doubt but the object of it
is our young friend, whose life I was a while ago the
instrument of saving. He is charged here with having
taken advantage of the confidence of his patron and
benefactor to rob him of property to a large amount.
Upon this charge he was committed to the county jail,
from whence he made his escape about a fortnight ago,
without venturing to stand his trial ; a circumstance
which is stated by the advertiser as tantamount to a
confession of his guilt.
" My friends, I was acquainted with the particulars
of this story some time before. This lad let me into
his history, at a time that he could not possibly foresee
that he should stand in need of that precaution as an
antidote against danger. He is not guilty of what is
laid to his charge. Which of you is so ignorant as to
suppose, that his escape is any confirmation of his
guilt ? Who ever thinks, when he is apprehended for
trial, of his innocence or guilt as being at all material
to the issue ? Who ever was fool enough to volunteer
a trial, where those who are to decide think more of
the horror of the thing of which he is accused, than
whether he were the person that did it ; and where the
nature of our motives is to be collected from a set of
ignorant witnesses, that no wise man would trust for a
fair representation of the most indifferent action of
his life ?
" The poor lad's story is a long one, and I will not
trouble you with it now. But from that story it is as
clear as the day, that, because he wished to leave the
service of his master, because he had been perhaps
a little too inquisitive in his master's concerns, and
because, as I suspect, he had been trusted with some
important secrets, his master conceived an antipathy
CALEB WILLIAMS. 309
against him. The antipathy gradually proceeded to
such a length, as to induce the master to forge this vile
accusation. He seemed willing to hang the lad out of
the way, rather than suffer him to go where he pleased,
or get beyond the reach of his power. Williams has
told me the story with such ingenuousness, that I am
as sure that he is guiltless of what they lay to his
charge, as that I am so myself. Nevertheless the man's
servants who were called in to hear the accusation, and
his relation, who as justice of the peace made out the
mittimus, and who had die folly to think he could be
impartial, gave it on his side with one voice, and thug
afforded Williams a sample of what he had to expect
in the sequel.
«* Larking, who when he received this paper had no
previous knowledge of particulars, was for taking ad-
vantage of it for the purpose of earning the hundred
guineas. Are you of that mind now you have heard
them ? Will you for so paltry a consideration deliver
up the lamb into the jaws of the wolf? Will you abet
the purposes of this sanguinary rascal, who, not con*
tented with driving his late dependent from house and
home, depriving him of character and all the' ordinary
means of subsistence, and leaving him almost without
a refuge, still thirsts for his blood ? If no other person
have the courage to set limits to the tyranny of courts
of justice, shall not we? Shall we, who earn our
livelihood by generous daring, be indebted for a penny
to the vile artifices of the informer ? Shall we, against
whom the whole species is in arms, refuse our pro-
tection to an individual, more exposed to, but still less
deserving of, their persecution than ourselves ? "
The representation of the captain produced an
instant effect upon the whole company. They all ex-
claimed, " Betray him ! No, not for worlds ! He is
x 3
310 CALEB WILLIAMS.
safe. We will protect him at the hazard of our lives.
If fidelity and honour be banished from thieves, where
shall they find refuge upon the face of the earth ?"*
Larkins in particular thanked the captain for his in-
terference, and swore that he would rather part with
his right hand than injure so worthy a lad or assist
such an unheard-of villainy. Saying this, he took me
by the hand and bade me fear nothing. Under their
roof no harm should ever befal me ; and, even if the
understrappers of the law should discover my retreat,
they would to a man die in my defence, sooner than a
hair of my head should be hurt. I thanked him most
sincerely for his good-will ; but I was principally struck
with the fervent benevolence of my benefactor. I told
them, I found that my enemies were inexorable, and
would never be appeased but with my blood ; and I
assured them with the most solemn and earnest vera-
city, that I had done nothing to deserve the persecution
which was exercised against me.
The spirit and energy of Mr. Raymond had been
such as to leave no part for me to perform in repelling
this unlooked-for danger. Nevertheless, it left a very
serious impression upon my mind. I had always placed
some confidence in the returning equity of Mr. Falkland.
Though he persecuted me with bitterness, I could not
help believing that he did it unwillingly, and I was
persuaded it would not be for ever. A man, whose
original principles had been so full of rectitude and
honour, could not fail at some time to recollect the in-
justice of his conduct, and to remit his asperity. This
idea had been always present to me, and had in no small
degree conspired to instigate my exertions. I said, " I
* This seems to be the parody of a celebrated saying of John
King of France, who was taken prisoner by the Black Prince at
the battle of Poitiers.
'CALEB WILLIAMS. 311
will convince my persecutor that I am of more value
than that I should be sacrificed purely by way of pre-
caution." These expectations on my part had been
encouraged by Mr. Falkland's behaviour upon the
question of my imprisonment, and by various par-
ticulars which had occurred since.
But this new incident gave the subject a totally
different appearance. I saw him, not contented with
blasting my reputation, confining me for a period in
jail, and reducing me to the situation of a houseless
vagabond, still continuing his pursuit under these
forlorn circumstances with unmitigable cruelty. In-
dignation and resentment seemed now for the first
time to penetrate my mind. I knew his misery so
well, I was so fully acquainted with its cause, and
strongly impressed with the idea of its being unmerited,
that, while I suffered deeply, I still continued to pity,
rather than hate my persecutor. But this incident
introduced some change into my feelings. I said,
" Surely he might now believe that he had sufficiently
disarmed me, and might at length suffer me to be at
peace. At least, ought he not to be contented to
leave me to my fate, the perilous and uncertain con-
dition of an escaped felon, instead of thus whetting
the animosity and vigilance of my countrymen against
me ? Were his interference on my behalf in opposition
to the stern severity of Mr. Forester, and his various
acts of kindness since, a mere part that he played in
order to lull me into patience? Was he perpetually
haunted with the fear of an ample retaliation, and for
that purpose did he personate remorse, at the very
moment that he was secretly keeping every engine at
play that could secure my destruction?" The very
suspicion of such a fact filled me with inexpressible
x 4
312 CALEB WILLIAMS.
horror, and struck a sudden chill through every fibre
of my frame.
My wound was by this time completely healed, and
it became absolutely necessary that I should form
some determination respecting the future. My habits
of thinking were such as gave me an uncontrollable
repugnance to the vocation of my hosts. I did not
indeed feel that aversion and abhorrence to the men
which are commonly entertained. I saw and respected
their good qualities and their virtues. I was by no
means inclined to believe them worse men, or more
hostile in their dispositions to the welfare of their
species, than the generality of those that look down
upon them with most censure. But, though I did not
cease to' love them as individuals, my eyes were per-
fectly open to their mistakes. If I should otherwise
have been in danger of being misled, it was my fortune
to have studied felons in a jail before I studied them
in their state of comparative prosperity ; and this was
an infallible antidote to the poison. I saw that in this
profession were exerted uncommon energy, ingenuity,
and fortitude, and I could not help recollecting how
admirably beneficial such qualities might be made in
the great theatre of human affairs; while, in their
present direction, they were thrown away upon pur-
poses diametrically at war with the first interests of
human society. Nor were their proceedings less in-
jurious to their own interest than incompatible with
the general welfare. The man who risks or sacrifices
his life for the public cause, is rewarded with the
testimony of an approving conscience; but persons
who wantonly defy the necessary, though atrociously
exaggerated precautions of government in the matter
of property, at the same time that they commit an
CALEB WILLIAMS. 313
alarming hostility against the whole, are, as to their
own concerns, scarcely less absurd and self-neglectful
than the man who should set himself up as a mark for
a file of musqueteers to shoot at.
Viewing the subject in this light, I not only deter-
mined that I would have no share in their occupation
myself, but thought I could not do less, in return for
the benefits I had received from them, than endeavour
to dissuade them from an employment in which they
must themselves be the greatest sufferers. My ex-
postulation met with a various reception. All the
persons to whom it was addressed had been tolerably
successful in persuading themselves of the innocence
of their calling ; and what remained of doubt in their
mind was* smothered, and, so to speak, laboriously
forgotten. Some of them laughed at my arguments,
as a ridiculous piece of missionary quixotism. Others,
and particularly our captain, repelled them with
the boldness of a man that knows he has got the
strongest side. But this sentiment of ease and self-
satisfaction did not long remain. They had been used
to arguments derived from religion and the sacredness
of law. They had long ago shaken these from them
as so many prejudices. But my view of the subject
appealed to principles which they could not contest,
and had by no means the air of that customary reproof
which is for ever dinned in our ears without finding
one responsive chord in our hearts. Urged, as they
now were, with objections unexpected and cogent,
some of those to whom I addressed them began to
grow peevish and impatient of the intrusive remon-
strance. But this was by no means the case with Mr.
Raymond. He was possessed of a candour that I have
seldom seen equalled. He was surprised to hear ob-
jections so powerful to that which, as a matter of
314« CALEB WILLIAMS.
speculation, he believed he had examined on all sides.
He revolved them with impartiality and care. He
admitted them slowly, but he at length fully admitted
them. He had now but one rejoinder in reserve.
" Alas ! Williams," said he, " it would have been
fortunate for me if these views had been presented to
me, previously to my embracing my present profession.
It is now too late. Those very laws which, by a per-
ception of their iniquity, drove me to what I am, pre-
clude my return. God, we are told, judges of men
by what they are at the period of arraignment, and
whatever be their crimes, if they have seen and abjured
the folly of those crimes, receives them to favour.
But the institutions of countries that profess to worship
this God admit no such distinctions. They leave no
room for amendment, and seem to have a brutal delight
in confounding the demerits of offenders. It signifies
not what is the character of the individual at the hour
of trial. How changed, how spotless, and how useful,
avails him nothing. If they discover at the distance of
fourteen* or of forty years f an action for which the
law ordains that his life shall be the forfeit, though the
interval should have been spent with the purity of a
saint and the devotedness of a patriot, they disdain to
enquire into it. What then can I do? Am I not
compelled to go on in folly, having once begun ?"
CHAPTER IV.
I WAS extremely affected by this plea. I could only
answer, that Mr. Raymond must himself be the best
* Eugene Aram. See Annual Register for 1759.
f William Andrew Home. Ibid.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 315
judge of the course it became him to hold ; I trusted
the case was not so desperate as he imagined.
This subject was pursued no further, and was in
some degree driven from my thoughts by an incident
of a very extraordinary nature.
I have already mentioned the animosity that was
entertained against me by the infernal portress of this
solitary mansion. Gines, the expelled member of the
gang, had been her particular favourite. She submitted
to his exile indeed, because her genius felt subdued by
the energy and inherent superiority of Mr. Raymond ;
but she submitted with murmuring and discontent: '
Not daring to resent the conduct of the principal in
this affair, she collected all the bitterness of her spirit
against roe.
To the unpardonable offence I had thus committed
in the first instance, were added the reasonings I had
lately offered against the profession of robbery. Robbery
was a fundamental article in the creed of this hoary
veteran, and she listened to my objections with the
same unaffected astonishment and horror that an old
woman of other habits would listen to one who ob-
jected to the agonies and dissolution of the Creator of
the world, or to the garment of imputed righteousness
prepared to envelope the souls of the elect. Like the
religious bigot, she was sufficiently disposed to avenge
a hostility against her opinions with the weapons of
sublunary warfare.
Meanwhile I had smiled at the impotence of her
malice, as an object of contempt rather than alarm.
She perceived, as I imagine, the slight estimation in
which I held her, and this did not a little increase the
perturbation of her thoughts.
One day I was left alone, with no other person in
the house than this swarthy sybil. The thieves had
316 CALEB WILLIAMS.
set out upon an expedition about two hours after
sunset on the preceding evening, and had not returned,
as they were accustomed to do, before day-break the
next morning. This was a circumstance that some-
times occurred, and therefore did not produce any
extraordinary alarm. At one time the scent of prey
would lead them beyond the bounds they had pre-
scribed themselves, and at another the fear of pursuit :
the life of a thief is always uncertain. The old woman
had been preparing during the night for the meal to
which they would expect to sit down as soon as might
be after their return.
For myself, I had learned from their habits to be
indifferent to the regular return of the different parts
of the day, and in some degree to turn day into night,
and night into day. I had been now several weeks in
this residence, and the season was considerably ad-
vanced. I had passed some hours during the night
in ruminating on my situation. The character and
manners of the men among whom I lived were dis-
gusting to me. Their brutal ignorance, their ferocious
habits, and their coarse behaviour, instead of becoming
more tolerable by custom, hourly added force to my
original aversion. The uncommon vigour of their minds,
and acuteness of their invention in the business they
pursued, compared with the odiousness of that business
and their habitual depravity, awakened in me sensations
too painful to be endured. Moral disapprobation, at
least in a mind unsubdued by philosophy, I found to
be one of the most fertile sources of disquiet and un-
easiness. From this pain the society of Mr. Raymond
by no means relieved me. He was indeed eminently
superior to the vices of the rest ; but I did not less
exquisitely feel how much he was out of his place, how
disproportionably associated, or how contemptibly em-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 317
ployed. I had attempted to counteract the errors under
which he and his companions laboured ; but I had found
the obstacles that presented themselves greater than I
had imagined.
What was I to do ? Was I to wait the issue of this
my missionary undertaking, or was I to withdraw myself
immediately ? When I withdrew, ought that to be
done privately, or with an open avowal of my design,
and an endeavour to supply by the force of example
what was deficient in my arguments ? It was certainly
improper, as I declined all participation in the pursuits
of these men, did not pay my contribution of hazard to
the means by which they subsisted, and had no con-
geniality with their habits, that I should continue to
reside with them longer than was absolutely necessary.
There was one circumstance that rendered this deliber-
ation particularly pressing. They intended in a few
days removing from their present habitation, to a haunt
to which they were accustomed, in a distant county.
If I did not propose to continue with them, it would
perhaps be wrong to accompany them in this removal.
The state of calamity to which my inexorable prose-
cutor had reduced me, had made the encounter even
of a den of robbers a fortunate adventure. But the
time that had since elapsed, had probably been sufficient
to relax the keenness of the quest that was made after
me. I sighed for that solitude and obscurity, that
retreat from the vexations of the world and the voice
even of common fame, which I had proposed to myself
when I broke my prison.
Such were the meditations which now occupied my
mind. At length I grew fatigued with continual con-
templation, and to relieve myself pulled out a pocket
Horace, the legacy of ray beloved Brightwel ! I read
with avidity the epistle in which he so beautifully de-
318 CALEB WILLIAMS.
scribes to Fuscus, the grammarian, the pleasures of
rural tranquillity and independence. By this time the
sun rose from behind the eastern hills, and I opened
my casement to contemplate it. The day commenced
with peculiar brilliancy, and was accompanied with all
those charms which the poets of nature, as they have
been styled, have so much delighted to describe. There
was something in this scene, particularly as succeeding
to the active exertions of intellect, that soothed the
mind to composure. Insensibly a confused reverie
invaded my faculties ; I withdrew from the window,
threw myself upon the bed, and fell asleep.
I do not recollect the precise images which in this
situation passed through my thoughts, but I know that
they concluded with the idea of some person, the agent
of Mr. Falkland, approaching to assassinate me. This
thought had probably been suggested by the project I
meditated of entering once again into the world, and
throwing myself within the sphere of his possible
vengeance. I imagined that the design of the murderer
was to come upon me by surprise, that I was aware of
his design, and yet, by some fascination, had no thought
of evading it. I heard the steps of the murderer as he
cautiously approached. I seemed to listen to his con-
strained yet audible breathings. He came up to the
corner where I was placed, and then stopped.
The idea became too terrible ; I started, opened my
eyes, and beheld the execrable hag before mentioned
standing over me with a butcher's cleaver. I shifted
my situation with a speed that seemed too swift for
volition, and the blow already aimed at my skull sunk
impotent upon the bed. Before she could wholly re-
cover her posture, I sprung upon her, seized hold of
the weapon, and had nearly wrested it from her. But
in a moment she resumed her strength and her desperate
CALEB WILLIAMS. 319
purpose, and we had a furious struggle — she impelled
by inveterate malice, and I resisting for my life. Her
vigour was truly Amazonian, and at no time had I ever
occasion to contend with a more formidable opponent.
Her glance was rapid and exact, and the shock with
which from time to time she impelled her whole
frame inconceivably vehement At length I was victo-
rious, took from her the instrument of death, and threw
her upon the ground. Till now the earnestness of her
exertions had curbed her rage ; but now she gnashed
with her teeth, her eyes seemed as if starting from
their sockets, and her body heaved with uncontrollable
insanity.
" Rascal! devil I" she exclaimed, " what do you
mean to do to me ? "
Till now the scene had passed uninterrupted by a
single word.
" Nothing," I replied: " begone, infernal witch ! and
leave me to myself."
" Leave you ! No : I will thrust my fingers through
your ribs, and drink your blood I — You conquer me ?
— Ha, ha! — Yes, yes; you shall! — I will sit upon
you, and press you to hell I I will roast you with brim-
stone, and dash your entrails into your eyes ! Ha,
ha!— ha!"
Saying this, she sprung up, and prepared to attack
me with redoubled fury. I seized her hands, and
compelled her to sit upon the bed. Thug restrained,
she continued to express the tumult of her thoughts
by grinning, by certain furious motions of her head,
and by occasional vehement efforts to disengage her-
self from my grasp. These contortions and starts
were of the nature of those fits in which the patienU
are commonly supposed to need three or four persons
to hold them. But I found by experience that, under
320 CALEB WILLIAMS.
the circumstances in which I was placed, my single
strength was sufficient. The spectacle of her emo-
tions was inconceivably frightful. Her violence at
length however began to abate, and she became con-
vinced of the hopelessness of the contest.
" Let me go ! " said she. " Why do you hold me ?
I will not be held."
" 1 wanted you gone from the first," replied I.
" Are you contented to go now ? "
" Yes, I tell you, misbegotten villain ! Yes, rascal ! "
I immediately loosed my hold. She flew to the
door, and, holding it in her hand, said, " I will be the
death of you yet : you shall not be your own man
twenty-four hours longer! " With these words she shut
the door, and locked it upon me. An action so totally
unexpected startled me. Whither was she gone ?
What was it she intended ? To perish by the ma-
chinations of such a hag as this was a thought not to
be endured. Death in any form brought upon us by
surprise, and for which the mind has had no time to
prepare, is inexpressibly terrible. My thoughts wan-
dered in breathless horror and confusion, and all within
was uproar. I endeavoured to break the door, but in
vain. I went round the room in search of some tool
to assist me. At length I rushed against it with a
desperate effort, to which it yielded, and had nearly
thrown me from the top of the stairs to the bottom.
I descended with all possible caution and vigilance.
I entered the room which served us for a kitchen, but
it was deserted. I searched every other apartment in
vain. I went out among the ruins ; still I discovered
nothing of my late assailant. It was extraordinary :
what could be become of her ? what was I to conclude
from her disappearance ! I reflected on her parting
menace, — "I should not be my own man twenty-four
CALEB WILLIAMS. 321
hours longer.** It was mysterious ! it did not seem to
be the menace of assassination.
Suddenly the recollection of the hand-bill brought
to us by Lark ins rushed upon my memory. Was it
possible that she alluded to that in her parting words?
Would she set out upon such an expedition by her-
self? Was it not dangerous to the whole fraternity,
if, without the smallest precaution, she should bring
the officers of justice in the midst of them ? It was
perhaps improbable she would engage in an under-
taking thus desperate. It was not however easy to
answer for the conduct of a person in her state of
mind. Should I wait, and risk the preservation of my
liberty upon the issue ?
To this question I returned an immediate negative.
I had resolved in a short time to quit my present situ-
ation, and the difference of a little sooner or a little
later could not be very material. It promised to be
neither agreeable nor prudent for me to remain under
the same roof with a person who had manifested such
a fierce and inexpiable hostility. But the consider-
ation which had inexpressibly the most weight with
me, belonged to the ideas of imprisonment, trial, and
death. The longer they had formed the subject of
my contemplation, the more forcibly was I impelled to
avoid them. I had entered upon a system of action
for that purpose ; I had already made many sacrifices ;
and I believed that I would never miscarry in this
project through any neglect of mine. The thought of
what was reserved for me by my persecutors sick-
ened my very soul ; and the more intimately I was
acquainted with oppression and injustice, the more
deeply was I penetrated with the abhorrence to which
they arc entitled.
Such were the reasons that determined me in-
322 CALEB WILLIAMS.
stantly, abruptly, without leave-taking, or acknowledg-
ment for the peculiar and repeated favours I had
received, to quit a habitation to which, for six weeks,
I had apparently been indebted for protection from
trial, conviction, and an ignominious death. I had
come hither pennyless ; I quitted my abode with the
sum of a few guineas in my possession, Mr. Raymond
having insisted upon my taking a share at the time
that each man received his dividend from the common
stock. Though I had reason to suppose that the heat
of the pursuit against me would be somewhat remitted
by the time that had elapsed, the magnitude of the
mischief that, in an unfavourable event, might fall on
me, determined me to neglect no imaginable pre-
caution. I recollected the hand-bill which was the
source of my present alarm, and conceived that one of
the principal dangers which threatened me was the
recognition of my person, either by such as had pre-
viously known me, or even by strangers. It seemed
prudent therefore to disguise it as effectually as I
could. For this purpose I had recourse to a parcel of
tattered garments, that lay in a neglected corner of
our habitation. The disguise I chose was that of a
beggar. Upon this plan, I threw off my shirt; I tied a
handkerchief about my head, with which I took care
to cover one of my eyes ; over this I drew a piece of
an old woollen nightcap. I selected the worst ap-
parel I could find; and this I reduced to a still more
deplorable condition, by rents that I purposely made
in various places. Thus equipped, I surveyed myself
in a looking-glass. I had rendered my appearance
complete ; nor would any one have suspected that I
was not one of the fraternity to which I assumed to
belong. I said, " This is the form in which tyranny
and injustice oblige me to seek for refuge: but better,
CALEB WILLIAMS. 323
a thousand times better is it, thus to incur contempt
with the dregs of mankind, than trust to the tender
mercies of our superiors ! "
CHAPTER V.
THE only rule that I laid down to myself in tra-
versing the forest, was to take a direction as opposite
as possible to that which led to the scene of my
late imprisonment. After about two hours walking
I arrived at the termination of this ruder scene, and
reached that pan of the country which is inclosed and
cultivated. Here I sat down by the side of a brook,
and, pulling out a crust of bread which I had brought
away with me, rested and refreshed myself. While I
continued in this place, I began to ruminate upon the
plan 1 should lay down for my future proceedings ; and
my propensity now led me, as it had done in a former
instance, to fix upon the capital, which I believed,
besides its other recommendations, would prove the
safest place for concealment. During these thoughts
I saw a couple of peasants passing at a small distance,
and enquired of them respecting the London road.
By their description I understood that the most im-
mediate way would be to repass a part of the forest,
and that it would be necessary to approach consider-
ably nearer to the county-town than I was at the spot
which 1 had at present reached. I did not imagine
that this could be a circumstance of considerable im-
portance. My disguise appeared to be a sufficient
security against momentary danger ; and I therefore
took a path, though not the most direct one, which led
towards the point they suggested.
y 2
324" CALEB WILLIAMS.
Some of the occurrences of the day are deserving
to be mentioned. As I passed along a road which lay
in my way for a few miles, I saw a carriage advancing
in the opposite direction. I debated with myself for
a moment, whether I should pass it without notice, or
should take this occasion, by voice or gesture, of
making an essay of my trade. This idle disquisition
was however speedily driven from my mind when I
perceived that the carriage was Mr. Falkland's. The
suddenness of the encounter struck me with terror,
though perhaps it would have been difficult for calm
reflection to have discovered any considerable danger.
I withdrew from the road, and skulked behind a hedge
till it should have completely gone by. I was too much
occupied with my own feelings, to venture to examine
whether or no the terrible adversary of my peace were
in the carriage. I persuaded myself that he was.
I looked after the equipage, and exclaimed, " There
you may see the luxurious accommodations and ap-
pendages of guilt, and here the forlornness that awaits
upon innocence ! " — I was to blame to imagine that
my case was singular in that respect. I only mention
it to show how the most trivial circumstance con-
tributes to embitter the cup to the man of adversity.
The thought however was a transient one. I had
learned this lesson from my sufferings, not to indulge
in the luxury of discontent. As my mind recovered
its tranquillity, I began to enquire whether the phe-
nomenon I had just seen could have any relation to
myself. But though my mind was extremely inquisi-
tive and versatile in this respect, I could discover no
sufficient ground upon which to build a judgment.
At night I entered a little public-house at the ex-
tremity of a village, and, seating myself in a corner
of the kitchen, asked for some bread and cheese.
CALEB WILLIAMS. .'i'_V>
While I was sitting at my repast, three or four la-
bourers came in for a little refreshment after their
work. Ideas respecting the inequality of rank per-
vade every order in society ; and, as my appearance
was meaner and more contemptible than theirs, I
found it expedient to give way to these gentry of a
village alehouse, and remove to an obscurer station.
I was surprised, and not a little startled, to find them
fall almost immediately into conversation about my his-
tory, whom, with a slight variation of circumstances,
they styled the notorious housebreaker, Kit Williams.
" Damn the fellow," said one of them, " one never
hears of any thing else. O* my life, I think he makes
talk for the whole country."
" That is very true," replied another. " I was at
the market-town to-day to sell some oats for my
master, and there was a hue and cry, some of them
thought they had got him, but it was a false alarm."
•• That hundred guineas is a fine thing," rejoined
the first. " I should be glad if so be as how it fell in
my way."
" For the matter of that," said his companion, " I
should like a hundred guineas as well as another. But
I cannot be of your mind for all that. I should never
think money would do me any good that had been the
means of bringing a Christian creature to the gallows."
•• Poh, that is all my granny ! Some folks must be
hanged, to keep the wheels of our state-folks a-going.
Besides, I could forgive the fellow all his other rob-
beries, but that he should have been so hardened as
to break the house of his own master at last, that is
too bad."
" Lord ! lord !" replied the other, " I see you know
nothing of the matter ! I will tell you how it was, as
I learned it at the town. I question whether he ever
Y 3
326 CALEB WILLIAMS.
robbed his master at all. But, hark you ! you must
know as how that squire Falkland was once tried for
murder "
" Yes, yes, we know that."
" Well, he was as innocent as the child unborn.
But I supposes as how he is a little soft or so. And
so Kit Williams — Kit is a devilish cunning fellow, you
may judge that from his breaking prison no less than
five times, so, I say, he threatened to bring his
master to trial at 'size all over again, and so frightened
him, and got money from him at divers times. Till at
last one squire Forester, a relation of t' other, found it
all out. And he made the hell of a rumpus, and sent
away Kit to prison in a twinky ; and I believe he would
have been hanged: for when two squires lay their
heads together, they do not much matter law, you
know ; or else they twist the law to their own ends, I
cannot exactly say which ; but it is much at one when
the poor fellow's breath is out of his body."
Though this story was very circumstantially told, and
with a sufficient detail of particulars, it did not pass
unquestioned. Each man maintained the justness of
his own statement, and the dispute was long and obsti-
nately pursued. Historians and commentators at length
withdrew together. The terrors with which I was
seized when this conversation began, were extreme. I
stole a sidelong glance to one quarter and another, to
observe if any man's attention was turned upon me. I
trembled as if in an ague-fit ; and, at first, felt continual
impulses to quit the house, and take to my heels.
I drew closer to my corner, held aside my head, and
seemed from time to time to undergo a total revolution
of the animal economy.
At length the tide of ideas turned. Perceiving they
paid no attention to me, the recollection of the full
CALEB WILLIAMS. 327
security my disguise afforded recurred strongly to my
thoughts ; and I began inwardly to exult, though I did
not venture to obtrude myself to examination. By
degrees I began to be amused at the absurdity of their
tales, and the variety of the falsehoods I heard asserted
around me. My soul seemed to expand ; I felt a pride
in the self-possession and lightness of heart with which
I could listen to the scene ; and I determined to pro-
long and heighten the enjoyment. Accordingly, when
they were withdrawn, I addressed myself to our hostess,
a buxom, bluff, good-humoured widow, and asked what
sort of a man this Kit Williams might be ? She replied
that, as she was informed, he was as handsome, likely
a lad, as any in four counties round ; and that she loved
him for his cleverness, by which he outwitted all the
keepers they could set over him, and made his way
through stone walls as if they were so many cobwebs.
I observed, that the country was so thoroughly alarmed,
that I did not think it possible he should escape the
pursuit that was set up after him. This idea excited her
immediate indignation : she said, she hoped he was far
enough away by this time; but if not, she wished the
curse of God might light on them that betrayed so noble
a fellow to an ignominious end! — Though she little
thought that the person of whom she spoke was so near
her, yet the sincere and generous warmth with which
she interested herself in my behalf gave me consider-
able pleasure. With this sensation to sweeten the
fatigues of the day and the calamities of my situation, I
retired from the kitchen to a neighbouring barn, laid my-
self down upon some straw, and fell into a profound sleep.
The next day about noon, as I was pursuing my jour-
ney, I was overtaken by two men on horseback, who
stopped me, to enquire respecting a person that they
supposed might have passed along that road. As they
328 CALEB WILLIAMS.
proceeded in their description, Iperceived, with astonish-
ment and terror, that I was myself the person to whom
their questions related. They entered into a tolerably
accurate detail of the various .characteristics by which
my person might best be distinguished. They said,
they had good reason to believe that I had been seen
at a place in that county the very day before. While
they were speaking a third person, who had fallen be-
hind, came up; and my alarm was greatly increased
upon seeing that this person was the servant of Mr.
Forester, who had visited me in prison about a fortnight
before my escape. My best resource in this crisis was
composure and apparent indifference. It was fortunate
for me that my disguise was so complete, that the eye
of Mr. Falkland itself could scarcely have penetrated
it. I had been aware for some time before that this
was a refuge which events might make necessary, and
had endeavoured to arrange and methodise my ideas
upon the subject. From my youth I had possessed a
considerable facility in the art of imitation ; and when
I quitted my retreat in the habitation of Mr. Raymond,
I adopted, along with my beggar's attire, a peculiar
slouching and clownish gait, to be used whenever there
should appear the least chance of my being observed,
together with an Irish brogue which I had had an oppor-
tunity of studying in my prison. Such are the miserable
expedients, and so great the studied artifice, which man,
who never deserves the name of manhood but in pro-
portion as he is erect and independent, may find it
necessary to employ, for the purpose of eluding the
inexorable animosity and unfeeling tyranny of his fel-
low man ! I had made use of this brogue, though I
have not thought it necessary to write it down in my
narrative, in the conversation of the village alehouse.
Mr. Forester's servant, as he came up, observed that his
CALEB WILLIAMS.
companions were engaged in conversation with me;
and, guessing at the subject, asked whether they had
gained any intelligence. He added to the information
at which they had already hinted, that a resolution was
taken to spare neither diligence nor expense for my dis-
covery and apprehension, and that they were satisfied,
if I were above ground and in the kingdom, it would
be impossible for me to escape them.
Every new incident that had occurred to me tended
to impress upon my mind the extreme danger to which
I was exposed. I could almost have imagined that I
was the sole subject of general attention, and that the
whole world was in arms to exterminate me. The very
idea tingled through every fibre of my frame. But,
terrible as it appeared to my imagination, it did but
give new energy to my purpose; and I determined
that I would not voluntarily resign the field, that is,
literally speaking, my neck to the cord of the execu-
tioner, notwithstanding the greatest superiority in my
assailants. But the incidents which had befallen me,
though they did not change my purpose, induced me
to examine over again the means by which it might be
effected. The consequence of this revisal was, to de-
termine me to bend my course to the nearest sea-port
on the west side of the island, and transport myself to
Ireland. I cannot now tell what it was that inclined me
to prefer this scheme to that which I had originally
formed. Perhaps the latter, which had been for some
time present to my imagination, for that reason ap-
peared the more obvious of the two ; and I found an
appearance of complexity, which the mind did not stay
to explain, in substituting the other in its stead.
I arrived without further impediment at the place
from which I intended to sail, enquired for a vessel,
which I found ready to put to sea in a few hours,
330 CALEB WILLIAMS.
agreed with the captain for my passage. Ireland had
to me the disadvantage of being a dependency of the
British government, and therefore a place of less se-
curity than most other countries which are divided
from it by the ocean. To judge from the diligence
with which I seemed to be pursued in England, it was
not improbable that the zeal of my persecutors might
follow me to the other side of the channel. It was
however sufficiently agreeable to my mind, that I was
upon the point of being removed one step further from
the danger which was so grievous to my imagination.
Could there be any peril in the short interval that
was to elapse, before the vessel was to weigh anchor
and quit the English shore? Probably not. A very
short time had intervened between my determination
for the sea and my arrival at this place ; and if any
new alarm had been given to my prosecutors, it pro-
ceeded from the old woman a very few days before.
I hoped I had anticipated their diligence. Mean-
while, that I might neglect no reasonable precaution,
I went instantly on board, resolved that I would not
unnecessarily, by walking the streets of the town, ex-
pose myself to any untoward accident. This was the
first time I had, upon any occasion, taken leave of my
native country.
CHAPTER VI.
THE time was now nearly elapsed that was prescribed
for our stay, and orders for weighing anchor were every
moment expected, when we were hailed by a boat from
the shore, with two other men in it besides those that
rowed. They entered our vessel in an instant. They
CALEB WILLIAMS. 331
were officers of justice. The passengers, five persons
besides myself, were ordered upon deck for examination.
I was inexpressibly disturbed at the occurrence of such
a circumstance in so unseasonable a moment I took
it for granted that it was of me they were in search.
Was it possible that, by any unaccountable accident,
they should have got an intimation of my disguise ? It
was infinitely more distressing to encounter them upon
this narrow stage, and under these pointed circum-
stances, than, as I had before encountered my pur-
suers, under the appearance of an indifferent person.
My recollection however did not forsake me. I con-
fided in my conscious disguise and my Irish brogue, as
a rock of dependence against all accidents.
No sooner did we appear upon deck than, to my
great consternation, I could observe the attention of
our guests principally turned upon me. They asked a
few frivolous questions of such of my fellow passengers
as happened to be nearest to them ; and then, turning
to me, enquired my name, who I was, whence I came,
and what had brought me there? I had scarcely
opened my mouth to reply, when, with one consent,
they laid hold of me, said I was their prisoner, and
declared that my accent, together with the correspond-
ence of my person, would be sufficient to convict me
before any court in England. I was hurried out of
the vessel into the boat in which they came, and seated
between them, as if by way of precaution, lest I should
spring overboard, and by any means escape them.
I now took it for granted that I was once more in
the power of Mr. Falkland ; and the idea was insup-
rtortably mortifying and oppressive to my imagination.
Escape from his pursuit, freedom from his tyranny,
were objects upon which my whole soul was bent.
Could no human ingenuity and exertion effect them ?
332 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Did his power reach through all space, and his eye
penetrate every concealment ? Was he like that mys-
terious being, to protect us from whose fierce revenge
mountains and hills, we are told, might fall on us in
vain ? No idea is more heart-sickening and tremendous
than this. But, in my case, it was not a subject of
reasoning or of faith ; I could derive no comfort, either
directly from the unbelief which, upon religious sub-
jects, some men avow to their own minds ; or secretly
from the remoteness and incomprehensibility of the
conception : it was an affair of sense ; I felt the fangs
of the tiger striking deep into my heart.
But though this impression was at first exceedingly
strong, and accompanied with its usual attendants of
dejection and pusillanimity, my mind soon began, as it
were mechanically, to turn upon the consideration of
the distance between this sea-port and my county
prison, and the various opportunities of escape that
might offer themselves in the interval. My first duty
was to avoid betraying myself, more than it might
afterwards appear I was betrayed already. It was
possible that, though apprehended, my apprehension
might have been determined on upon some slight
score, and that, by my dexterity, I might render my
dismission as sudden as my arrest had been. It was
even possible that I had been seized through a mistake,
and that the present measure might have no con-
nection with Mr. Falkland's affair. Upon every sup-
position, it was my business to gain information. ' In
my passage from the ship to the town I did not utter
a word. My conductors commented on my sulkiness ;
but remarked that it would avail me nothing — I should
infallibly swing, as it was never known that any body
got off who was tried for robbing his majesty's mail.
It is difficult to conceive the lightness of heart which
CALEB WILLIAMS. S33
was communicated to me by these words : I persisted
however in the silence I had meditated. From the
rest of their conversation, which was sufficiently volu-
ble, I learned that the mail from Edinburgh to London
had been robbed about ten days before by two Irish-
men, that one of them was already secured, and that I
was taken up upon suspicion of being the other. They
had a description of his person, which, though, as I
afterwards found, it disagreed from mine in several
material articles, appeared to them to tally to the
minutest tittle. The intelligence that the whole pro-
ceeding against me was founded in a mistake, took an
oppressive load from my mind. I believed that I should
immediately be able to establish my innocence, to the
satisfaction of any magistrate in the kingdom ; and
though crossed in my plans, and thwarted in my
design of quitting the island, even after I was already
at sea, this was but a trifling inconvenience compared
with what I had had but too much reason to fear.
As soon as we came ashore, I was conducted to the
house of a justice of peace, a man who had formerly
been the captain of a collier, but who, having been
successful in the world, had quitted this wandering
life, and for some years had had the honour to repre-
sent his majesty's person. We were detained for
some time in a sort of anti-room, waiting his reve-
rence's leisure. The persons by whom I had been
taken up were experienced in their trade, and insisted
upon employing this interval in searching me, in pre-
sence of two of his worship's servants. They found
upon me fifteen guineas and some silver. They re-
quired me to strip myself perfectly naked, that they
might examine whether I had bank-notes concealed
any where about my person. They took up the de-
334 CALEB WILLIAMS.
tached parcels of my miserable attire as I threw it
from me, and felt them one by one, to discover whether
the articles of which they were in search might by
any device be sewn up in them. To all this I sub-
mitted without murmuring. It might probably come
to the same thing at last ; and summary justice was
sufficiently coincident with my views, my principal
object being to get as soon as possible out of the
clutches of the respectable persons who now had me
in custody.
This operation was scarcely completed, before we
were directed to be ushered into his worship's apart-
ment. My accusers opened the charge, and told him
they had been ordered to this town, upon an inti-
mation that one of the persons who robbed the Edin-
burgh mail was to be found here ; and that they had
taken me on board a vessel which was by this time
under sail for Ireland. " Well," says his worship,
" that is your story ; now let us hear what account the
gentleman gives of himself. What is your name — ha,
sirrah? and from what part of Tipperary are you
pleased to come ?" I had already taken my deter-
mination upon this article; and the moment I learned
the particulars of the charge against me, resolved, for
the present at least, to lay aside my Irish accent, and
speak my native tongue. This I had done in the very
few words I had spoken to my conductors in the anti-
room : they started at the metamorphosis ; but they
had gone too far for it to be possible they should re-
tract, in consistence with their honour. I now told the
justice that I was no Irishman, nor had ever been in
that country : I was a native of England. This occa-
sioned a consulting of the deposition in which my
person was supposed to be described, and which my>
CALEB WILLIAMS. 335
conductors had brought with them for their direction-.
To be sure, that required that the offender should be
an Irishman.
Observing his worship hesitate, I thought this was
the time to push the matter a little further. I referred
to the paper, and showed that the description neither
tallied as to height nor complexion. But then it did
as to years and the colour of the hair ; and it was not
this gentleman's habit, as he informed me, to squabble
about trifles, or to let a man's neck out of the halter
for a pretended flaw of a few inches in his stature. " If
a man were too short," he said, " there was no remedy
like a little stretching." The miscalculation in my case
happened to be the opposite way, but his reverence did
not think proper to lose his jest. Upon the whole, he
was somewhat at a loss how to proceed.
My conductors observed this, and began to tremble
for the reward, which, two hours ago, they thought as
good as in their own pocket. To retain me in custody
they judged to be a safe speculation ; if it turned out
a mistake at last, they felt little apprehension of a suit
for false imprisonment from a poor man, accoutred as
I was, in rags. They therefore urged his worship to
comply with their views. They told him that to be
sure the evidence against me did not prove so strong
at for their part they heartily wished it had, but that
there were a number of suspicious circumstances re-
specting me. When I was brought up to them upon
the deck of the vessel, I spoke as fine an Irish brogue
as one shall hear in a summer's day ; and now, all at
once, there was not the least particle of it left. In
searching me they had found upon me fifteen guineas,
how should a poor beggar lad, such as I appeared, come
honestly by fifteen guineas ? Besides, when they had
stripped me naked, though my dress was so shabby;
336 CALEB WILLIAMS.
my skin had all the sleekness of a gentleman. In fine,
for what purpose could a poor beggar, who had never
been in Ireland in his life, want to transport himself to
that country ? It was as clear as the sun that I was no
better than I should be. This reasoning, together with
some significant winks and gestures between the justice
and the plaintiffs, brought him over to their way of
thinking. He said, I must go to Warwick, where it
seems the other robber was at present in custody, and
be confronted with him ; and if then every thing ap-
peared fair and satisfactory, I should be discharged.
No intelligence could be more terrible than that
which was contained in these words. That I, who had
found the whole country in arms against me, who was
exposed to a pursuit so peculiarly vigilant and pene-
trating, should now be dragged to the very centre of
the kingdom, without power of accommodating myself
to circumstances, and under the immediate custody of
the officers of justice, seemed to my ears almost the
same thing as if he had pronounced upon me a sentence
of death ! I strenuously urged the injustice of this
proceeding. I observed to the magistrate, that it was
impossible I should be the person at whom the de-
scription pointed. It required an Irishman ; I was no
Irishman. It described a person shorter than I ; a cir-
cumstance of all others the least capable of being
counterfeited. There was not the slightest reason for
detaining me in custody. I had been already disap-
pointed of my voyage, and lost the money I had paid
down, through the officiousness of these gentlemen in
apprehending me. I assured his worship, that every
delay, under my circumstances, was of the utmost im-
portance to me. It was impossible to devise a greater
injury to be inflicted on me, than the proposal that,
instead of being permitted to proceed upon my voyage,
CALEB WILLIAMS. S:>7
I should be sent, under arrest, into the heart of the
kingdom.
My remonstrances were vain. The justice was by
no means inclined to digest the being expostulated
with in this manner by a person in the habiliments of
a beggar. In the midst of my address he would have
silenced me for my impertinence, but that I spoke with
an earnestness with which he was wholly unable to
contend. When I had finished, he told me it was all
to no purpose, and that it might have been better for
me, if I had shown myself less insolent It was clear
that I was a vagabond and a suspicious person. The
more earnest 1 showed myself to get off, the more
reason there was he should keep me fast. Perhaps,
after all, I should turn out to be the felon in question.
• But, if I was not that, he had no doubt I was worse ;
a poacher, or, for what he knew, a murderer. He had
a kind of a notion that he had seen my face before
about some such affair; out of all doubt I was an old
offender. He had it in his choice to send me to hard
labour as a vagrant, upon the strength of my appear-
ance and the contradictions in my story, or to order me
to Warwick ; and, out of the spontaneous goodness of
his disposition, he chose the milder side of the alter-
native. He could assure me I should not slip through
his fingers. It was of more benefit to his majesty's go-
vernment to hang one such fellow as he suspected me
to be, than, out of mistaken tenderness, to concern
one's self for the good of all the beggars in the nation.
Finding it was impossible to work, in the way I de-
sired, on a man so fully impressed with his own dignity
and importance and my utter insignificance, I claimed
that, at least, the money taken from my person should
be restored to me. This was granted. His worship
perhaps suspected that he had stretched a point in
338 CALEB WILLIAMS.
what he had already done, and was therefore the less
unwilling to relax in this incidental circumstance. My
conductors did not oppose themselves to this indulg-
ence, for a reason that will appear in the sequel. The
justice however enlarged upon his clemency in this
proceeding. He did not know whether he was not
exceeding the spirit of his commission in complying
with my demand. So much money in my possession
could not be honestly come by. But it was his temper
to soften, as far as could be done with propriety, the
strict letter of the law.
There were cogent reasons why the gentlemen who
had originally taken me into custody, chose that I
should continue in their custody when my examination
was over. Every man is, in his different mode, sus-
ceptible to a sense of honour ; and they did not choose
to encounter the disgrace that would accrue to them,
if justice had been done. Every man is in some
degree influenced by the love of power ; and they
were willing I should owe any benefit I received, to
their sovereign grace and benignity? and not to the
mere reason of the case. It was not however an un-
substantial honour and barren power that formed the
objects of their pursuit : no, their views were deeper
than that. In a word, though they chose that I should
retire from the seat of justice, as I had come before
it, a prisoner, yet the tenor of my examination had
obliged them, in spite of themselves, to suspect that I
was innocent of the charge alleged against me. Appre-
hensive therefore that the hundred guineas which had
been offered as a reward for taking the robber was
completely out of the question in the present busi-
ness, they were contented to strike at smaller game.
Having conducted me to an inn, and given directions
respecting a vehicle for the journey, they took me
CALEB WILLIAMS. 339
aside, while one of them addressed me in the following
manner : —
" You see, my lad, how the case stands : hey for
Warwick is the word ! and when we are got there,
what may happen then I will not pretend for to say.
Whether you are innocent or no is no business of
mine ; but you are not such a chicken as to suppose, if
so be as you are innocent, that that will make your
game altogether sure. You say your business calls
you another way, and as how you are in haste : I scorns
to cross any man in his concerns, if I can help it. If
therefore you will give us them there fifteen shiners,
why snug is the word. They are of no use to you ; a
beggar, you know, is always at home. For the matter
of that, we could have had them in the way of business,
as you saw, at the justice's. But I am a man of prin-
ciple ; I loves to do things above board, and scorns to
extort a shilling from any man."
He who is tinctured with principles of moral discri-
mination is apt upon occasion to be run away with by
his feelings in that respect, and to forget the immediate
interest of the moment I confess, that the first
sentiment excited in my mind by this overture was
that of indignation. I was irresistibly impelled to give
utterance to this feeling, and postpone for a moment
the consideration of the future. I replied with the
severity which so base a proceeding appeared to de-
serve. My bear-leaders were considerably surprised
with my firmness, but seemed to think it beneath them
to contest with me the principles I delivered. He
who had made the overture contented himself with
replying, " Well, well, my lad, do as you will ; you are
not the first man that has been hanged rather than
part with a few guineas." His words did not pass un-
heeded by me. They were strikingly applicable to my
z 2
34?0 CALEB WILLIAMS.
situation, and I was determined not to suffer the oc-
casion to escape me unimproved.
The pride of these gentlemen however was too
great to admit of further parley for the present.
They left me abruptly ; having h'rst ordered an old
man, the father of the landlady, to stay in the room
w ith me while they were absent. The old man they
ordered, for security, to lock the door, and put the key
in his pocket ; at the same time mentioning below
stairs the station in which they had left me, that the
people of the house might have an eye upon what
went forward, and not suffer me to escape. What was
the intention of this manoeuvre I am unable certainly
to pronounce. Probably it was a sort of compromise
between their pride and their avarice ; being desirous,
for some reason or other, to drop me as soon as
convenient, and therefore determining to wait the
result of my private meditations on the proposal they
had made.
CHAPTER VII.
THEY were no sooner withdrawn than I cast my eye
upon the old man, and found something extremely
venerable and interesting in his appearance. His form
was above the middle size. It indicated that his
strength had been once considerable ; nor was it at
this time by any means annihilated. His hair was in
considerable quantity, and was as white as the drifted
snow. His complexion was healthful and ruddy, at
the same time that his face was furrowed with wrinkles.
In his eye there was remarkable vivacity, and his whole
countenance was strongly expressive of good-nature.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 341
The boorishness of his rank in society was lost in the
cultivation his mind had derived from habits of sensi-
bility and benevolence.
The view of his figure immediately introduced a
train of ideas into my mind, respecting the advantage
to be drawn from the presence of such a person. The
attempt to take any step without his consent was hope-
less ; for, though I should succeed with regard to him,
he could easily give the alarm to other persons, who
would, no doubt, be within call. Add to which, I
could scarcely have prevailed on myself to offer any
offence to a person whose first appearance so strongly
engaged my affection and esteem. In reality my thoughts
were turned into a different channel. I was impressed
with an ardent wish to be able to call this man my
benefactor. Pursued by a train of ill fortune, I could
no longer consider myself as a member of society. I
was a solitary being, cut off from the expectation of
sympathy, kindness, and the good-will of mankind. I
was strongly impelled, by the situation in which the
present moment placed me, to indulge in a luxury
which my destiny seemed to have denied. I could not
conceive the smallest comparison between the idea of
deriving my liberty from the spontaneous kindness of
a worthy and excellent mind, and that of being in-
debted for it to the selfishness and baseness of the
worst members of society. It was thus that I allowed
myself in the wantonness of refinement, even in the
midst of destruction.
Guided by these sentiments, I requested his attention
to the circumstances by which I had been brought into
my present situation. He immediately signified his
assent, and said he would cheerfully listen to any thing
I thought proper to communicate. I told him, the
persons who had just left me in charge with him had
z 3
342 CALEB WILLIAMS.
come to this town for the purpose of apprehending
some person who had been guilty of robbing the mail ;
that they had chosen to take me up under this
warrant, and had conducted me before a justice of
the peace ; that they had soon detected their mistake,
the person in question being an Irishman, and differ-
ing from me both in country and stature ; but that, by
collusion between them and the justice, they were
permitted to retain me in custody, and pretended to
undertake to conduct me to Warwick to confront me
with my accomplice ; that, in searching me at the
justice's, they had found a sum of money in my pos-
session which excited their cupidity, and that they had
just been proposing to me to give me my liberty upon
condition of my surrendering this sum into their hands.
Under these circumstances, I requested him to con-
sider, whether he would wish to render himself the
instrument of their extortion. I put myself into his
hands, and solemnly averred the truth of the facts I
had just stated. If he would assist me in my escape,
it could have no other effect than to disappoint the
base passions of my conductors. I would upon no
account expose him to any real inconvenience ; but I
was well assured that the same generosity that should
prompt him to a good deed, would enable him effectu-
ally to vindicate it when done ; and that those who
detained me, when they had lost sight of their prey,
would feel covered with confusion, and not dare to
take another step in the affair.
The old man listened to what I related with curi-
osity and interest. He said that he had always felt an
abhorrence to the sort of people who had me in their
hands ; that he had an aversion to the task they had just
imposed upon him, but that he could not refuse some
little disagreeable offices to oblige his daughter and
CALEB WILLIAMS. 343
son-in-law. He had no doubt, from my countenance and
manner, of the truth of what I had asserted to him. It
was an extraordinary request I had made, and he did
not know what had induced me to think him the sort of
person to whom, with any prospect of success, it might
be made. In reality however his habits of thinking
were uncommon, and he felt more than half inclined to
act as I desired. One thing at least he would ask of
me in return, which was to be faithfully informed in
some degree respecting the person he was desired to
oblige. What was my name ?
The question came upon me unprepared. But, what-
ever might be the consequence, I could not bear to
deceive the person by whom it was put, and in the cir-
cumstances under which it was put. The practice of
perpetual falsehood is too painful a task. I replied, that
my name was Williams.
He paused. His eye was fixed upon me. I saw his
complexion alter at the repetition of that word. He
proceeded with visible anxiety.
My Christian name ?
Caleb.
Good God ! it could not be ? He conjured me
by every thing that was sacred to answer him faith-
fully to one question more. I was not — no, it was
impossible — the person who had formerly lived servant
with Mr. Falkland, of ?
I told him that, whatever might be the meaning of
his question, I would answer him truly. I was the
individual he mentioned.
As I uttered these words the old man rose from his
seat. He was sorry that fortune had been so un-
propitious to him, as for him ever to have set eyes
upon me ! I was a monster with whom the very earth
groaned !
344 CALEB WILLIAMS.
I entreated that he would suffer me to explain this
new misapprehension, as he had done in the former
instance. I had no doubt that I should do it equally
to his satisfaction.
No ! no ! no ! he would upon no consideration admit,
that his ears should suffer such contamination. This
case and the other were very different. There was no
criminal upon the face of the earth, no murderer, half
so detestable as the person who could prevail upon
himself to utter the charges I had done, by way of
recrimination, against so generous a master. — The old
man was in a perfect agony with the recollection.
At length he calmed himself enough to say, he should
never cease to grieve that he had held a moment's
parley with me. He did not know what was the con-
duct severe justice required of him ; but, since he had
come into the knowledge of who I was only by my
own confession, it was irreconcilably repugnant to his
feelings to make use of that knowledge to my injury.
Here therefore all relation between us ceased ; as
indeed it would be an abuse of words to consider me
in the light of a human creature. He would do me no
mischief; but, on the other hand, he would not, for the
world, be in any way assisting and abetting me.
I was inexpressibly affected at the abhorrence this
good and benevolent creature expressed against me. I
could not be silent ; I endeavoured once and again to
prevail upon him to hear me. But his determination
was unalterable. Our contest lasted for some time,
and he at length terminated it by ringing the bell, and
calling up the waiter. A very little while after, my
conductors entered, and the other persons withdrew.
It was a part of the singularity of my fate that it
hurried me from one species of anxiety and distress to
another, too rapidly to suffer any one of them to sink
CALEB WILLIAMS. 34-5
deeply into my mind. I am apt to believe, in the retro-
spect, that half the calamities I was destined to endure
would infallibly have overwhelmed and destroyed me.
But, as it was, I had no leisure to chew the cud upon mis-
fortunes as they befel me, but was under the necessity
of forgetting them, to guard against peril that the next
moment seemed ready to crush me.
The behaviour of this incomparable and amiable old
man cut me to the heart. It was a dreadful prognostic
for all my future life. But, as I have just observed,
my conductors entered, and another subject called im-
periously upon my attention. I could have been con-
tent, mortified as I was at this instant, to have been
shut up in some impenetrable solitude, and to have
wrapped myself in inconsolable misery. But the grief
I endured had not such power over me as that I could
be content to risk the being led to the gallows. The
love of life, and still more a hatred against oppression,
steeled my heart against that species of inertness. In
the scene that had just passed I had indulged, as I have
said, in a wantonness and luxury of refinement. It was
time that indulgence should be brought to a period.
It was dangerous to trifle any more upon the brink of
fate; and, penetrated as I was with sadness by the
result of my last attempt, I was little disposed to un-
necessary circumambulation.
I was exactly in the temper in which the gentlemen
who had me in their power would have desired to find
me. Accordingly we entered immediately upon busi-
ness ; and, after some chaffering, they agreed to accept
eleven guineas as the price of my freedom. To pre-
serve however the chariness of their reputation, they
insisted upon conducting me with them for a few miles
on the outside of a stage-coach. They then pretended
that the road they had to travel lay in a cross country
346 CALEB WILLIAMS.
direction ; and, having quitted the vehicle, they suffered
me, almost as soon as it was out of sight, to shake off
this troublesome association, and follow my own inclin-
ations. It may be worth remarking by the way, that
these fellows outwitted themselves at their own trade.
They had laid hold of me at first under the idea of a
prize of a hundred guineas ; they had since been glad
to accept a composition of eleven : but if they had
retained me a little longer in their possession, they
would have found the possibility of acquiring the sum
that had originally excited their pursuit, upon a diffe-
rent score.
The mischances that had befallen me, in my late
attempt to escape from my pursuers by sea, deterred
me from the thought of repeating that experiment. I
therefore once more returned to the suggestion of hiding
myself, at least for the present, amongst the crowds of
the metropolis. Meanwhile, I by no means thought
proper to venture by the direct route, and the less so,
as that was the course which would be steered by my
late conductors ; but took my road along the borders of
Wales. The only incident worth relating in this place
occurred in an attempt to cross the Severn in a parti-
cular point. The mode was by a ferry ; but, by some
strange inadvertence, I lost my way so completely as
to be wholly unable that night to reach the ferry, and
arrive at the town which I had destined for my repose.
This may seem a petty disappointment, in the midst
of the overwhelming considerations that might have
been expected to engross every thought of my mind.
Yet it was borne by me with singular impatience. I
was that day uncommonly fatigued. Previously to the
time that I mistook, or at least was aware of the mis-
take of the road, the sky had become black and lowr-
ing, and soon after the clouds burst down in sheets of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 347
rain. I was in the midst of a heath, without a tree or
covering of any sort to shelter me. I was thoroughly
drenched in a moment. I pushed on with a sort of
sullen determination. By and by the rain gave place
to a storm of hail. The hail-stones were large and
frequent. I was ill defended by the miserable cover-
ing I wore, and they seemed to cut me in a thousand
directions. The hail-storm subsided, and was again
succeeded by a heavy rain. By this time it was that
I had perceived I was wholly out of my road. I could
discover neither man nor beast, nor habitation of any
kind. I walked on, measuring at every turn the path
it would be proper to pursue, but in no instance finding
a sufficient reason to reject one or prefer another.
My mind was bursting with depression and anguish.
I muttered imprecations and murmuring as I passed
along. I was lull of loathing and abhorrence of life,
and all that life carries in its train. After wandering
without any certain direction for two hours, I was over-
taken by the night. The scene was nearly pathless,
and it was vain to think of proceeding any farther.
Here I was, without comfort, without shelter, and
without food. There was not a particle of my cover-
ing that was not as wet as if it had been fished from
the bottom of the ocean. My teeth chattered. I
trembled in every limb. My heart burned with uni-
versal fury. At one moment I stumbled and fell over
some unseen obstacle ; at another I was turned back
by an impediment I could not overcome.
There was no strict connection between these casual
inconveniences and the persecution under which I
laboured. But my distempered thoughts confounded
them together. I cursed the whole system of human
existence. I said, " Here I am, an outcast, destined
to perish with hunger and cold. All men desert me.
348 CALEB WILLIAMS.
All men hate me. I am driven with mortal threats
from the sources of comfort and existence. Accursed
world ! that hates without a cause, that overwhelms
innocence with calamities which ought to be spared
even to guilt ! Accursed world ! dead to every manly
sympathy; with eyes of horn, and hearts of steel !
Why do I consent to live any longer ? Why do I seek
to drag on an existence, which, if protracted, must be
protracted amidst the lairs of these human tigers?"
This paroxysm at length exhausted itself. Pre-
sently after, I discovered a solitary shed, which I was
contented to resort to for shelter. In a corner of the
shed I found some clean straw. I threw off my rags,
placed them in a situation where they would best be
dried, and buried myself amidst this friendly warmth.
Here I forgot by degrees the anguish that had racked
me. A wholesome shed and fresh straw may seem but
scanty benefits ; but they offered themselves when
least expected, and my whole heart was lightened by
the encounter. Through fatigue of mind and body, it
happened in this instance, though in general my repose
was remarkably short, that I slept till almost noon of
the next day. When I rose, I found that I was at no
great distance from the ferry, which I crossed, and
entered the town where I intended to have rested the
preceding night.
It was market-day. As I passed near the cross,
I observed two people look at me with great earnest-
ness : after which one of them exclaimed, " I will be
damned if I do not think that this is the very fellow
those men were enquiring for who set off an hour ago
by the coach for . I was extremely alarmed
at this information ; and, quickening my pace, turned
sharp down a narrow lane. The moment I was out of
sight I ran with all the speed I could exert, and did
CALEB WILLIAMS. 349
not think myself safe till I was several miles distant
from the place where this information had reached my
ears. I have always believed that the men to whom
it related were the very persons who had apprehended
me on board the ship in which I had embarked for
Ireland; that, by some accident, they had met with
the description of my person as published on the part
of Mr. Falkland ; and that, from putting together the
circumstances, they had been led to believe that this
was the very individual who had lately been in their
custody. Indeed it was a piece of infatuation in me,
for which I am now unable to account, that, after the
various indications which had occurred in that affair,
proving to them that I was a man in critical and pe-
culiar circumstances, I should have persisted in wear-
ing the same disguise without the smallest alteration.
My escape in the present case was eminently fortunate.
If I had not lost my way in consequence of the hail-
storm on the preceding night, or if I had not so greatly
overslept myself this very morning, I must almost in-
fallibly have fallen into the hands of these infernal
blood-hunters.
The town they had chosen for their next stage, the
name of which I had thus caught in the market-place,
was the town to which, but for this intimation, I should
have immediately proceeded. As it was, I determined
to take a road as wide of it as possible. In the first
place to which I came, in which it was practicable to
do so, I bought a great coat, which I drew over my
beggar's weeds, and a better hat. The hat I slouched
over my face, and covered one of my eyes with a green-
silk shade. The handkerchief, which I had hitherto
worn about my head, I now tied about the lower part
of my visage, so as to cover my mouth. By degrees
I discarded every part of my former dress, and wore
350 CALEB WILLIAMS.
for my upper garment a kind of carman's frock, which,
being of the better sort, made me look like the son of
a reputable farmer of the lower class. Thus equipped,
I proceeded on my journey, and, after a thousand
alarms, precautions, and circuitous deviations from the
direct path, arrived safely in London.
CHAPTER VIII.
HERE then was the termination of an immense series
of labours, upon which no man could have looked back
without astonishment, or forward without a sentiment
bordering on despair. It was at a price which defies
estimation that I had purchased this resting-place ;
whether we consider the efforts it had cost me to escape
from the walls of my prison, or the dangers and anxie-
ties to which I had been a prey, from that hour to the
present.
But why do I call the point at which I was now
arrived at a resting-place ? Alas, it was diametrically
the reverse! It was my first and immediate business
to review all the projects of disguise I had hitherto
conceived, to derive every improvement I could invent
from the practice to which I had been subjected, and
to manufacture a veil of concealment more impene-
trable than ever. This was an effort to which I could
see no end. In ordinary cases the hue and cry after
a supposed offender is a matter of temporary operation ;
but ordinary cases formed no standard for the colossal
intelligence of Mr. Falkland. For the same reason,
London, which appears an inexhaustible reservoir of
concealment to the majority of mankind, brought no
such consolatory sentiment to my mind. Whether life
CALEB WILLIAMS. 351
were worth accepting on such terms I cannot pro-
nounce. I only know that I persisted in this exertion
of ray faculties, through a sort of parental love that
men are accustomed to entertain for their intellectual
offspring ; the more thought I had expended in rearing
it to its present perfection, the less did I find myself
disposed to abandon it. Another motive, not less stre-
nuously exciting me to perseverance, was the ever-
growing repugnance I felt to injustice and arbitrary
power.
The first evening of my arrival in town I slept at
an obscure inn in the borough of Southwark, choosing
that side of the metropolis, on account of its lying en-
tirely wide of the part of England from which I came.
I entered the inn in the evening in my countryman's
frock ; and, having paid for my lodging before I went
to bed, equipped myself next morning as differently
as my wardrobe would allow, and left the house before
day. The frock I made up into a small packet, and,
having carried it to a distance as great as I thought
necessary, I dropped it in the corner of an alley
through which I passed. My next care was to furnish
myself with another suit of apparel, totally different
from any to which I had hitherto had recourse. The
exterior which I was now induced to assume was that
of a Jew. One of the gang of thieves upon
forest, had been of that race ; and by the talent of
mimicry, which I have already stated myself to pos-
sess, I could copy their pronunciation of the English
language, sufficiently to answer such occasions as were
likely to present themselves. One of the prelimi-
naries I adopted, was to repair to a quarter of the town
in which great numbers of this people reside, and
study their complexion and countenance. Having
made such provision as my prudence suggested to
352 CALEB WILLIAMS.
me, I retired for that night to an inn in the midway
between Mile-end and Wapping. Here I accoutred
myself in my new habiliments ; and, having employed
the same precautions as before, retired from my
lodging at a time least exposed to observation. It is
unnecessary to describe the particulars of my new
equipage ; suffice it to say, that one of my cares was
to discolour my complexion, and give it the dun and
sallow hue which is in most instances characteristic of
the tribe to which I assumed to belong ; and that
when my metamorphosis was finished, I could not,
upon the strictest examination, conceive that any one
could have traced out the person of Caleb Williams in
this new disguise.
Thus far advanced in the execution of my project,
I deemed it advisable to procure a lodging, and change
my late wandering life for a stationary one. In this
lodging I constantly secluded myself from the rising
to the setting of the sun ; the periods I allowed for
exercise and air were few, and those few by night. I
was even cautious of so much as approaching the win-
dow of my apartment, though upon the attic story ; a
principle I laid down to myself was, not wantonly and
unnecessarily to expose myself to risk, however slight
that risk might appear.
Here let me pause for a moment, to bring before
the reader, in the way in which it was impressed
upon my mind, the nature of my situation. I was
born free : I was born healthy, vigorous, and active,
complete in all the lineaments and members of a
human body. I was not born indeed to the posses-
sion of hereditary wealth ; but I had a better inherit-
ance, an enterprising mind, an inquisitive spirit, a
liberal ambition. In a word, I accepted my lot with
willingness and content ; I did not fear but I should
CALEB WILLIAMS. 353
make ray cause good in the lists of existence. I was
satisfied to aim at small things; I was pleased
to play at first for a slender stake ; I was more
willing to grow than to descend in my individual
significance.
The free spirit and the firm heart with which I
commenced, one circumstance was sufficient to blast.
I was ignorant of the power which the institutions of
society give to one man over others ; I had fallen un-
warily into the hands of a person who held it as his
fondest wish to oppress and destroy me.
I found myself subjected, undeservedly on my part,
to all the disadvantages which mankind, if they re-
flected upon them, would hesitate to impose on ac-
knowledged guilt. In every human countenance I
feared to find the countenance of an enemy. I shrunk
from the vigilance of every human eye. I dared not
open my heart to the best affections of our nature. I
was shut up, a deserted, solitary wretch, in the midst
of my species. I dared not look for the consolations of
friendship ; but, instead of seeking to identify myself
with the joys and sorrows of others, and exchanging
the delicious gifts of confidence and sympathy, was
compelled to centre my thoughts and my vigilance in
myself. My life was all a lie. I had a counterfeit
character to support. I had counterfeit manners to
assume. My gait, my gestures, my accents, were all
of them to be studied. I was not free to indulge, no
not one, honest sally of the soul. Attended with these
disadvantages, I was to procure myself a subsistence,
a subsistence to be acquired with infinite precautions,
and to be consumed without the hope of enjoyment.
This, even this, I was determined to endure ; to put
my shoulder to the burthen, and support it with un-
shrinking firmness. Let it not however be supposed
A A
354? CALEB WILLIAMS.
that I endured it without repining and abhorrence. My
time was divided between the terrors of an animal
that skulks from its pursuers, the obstinacy of un-
shrinking firmness, and that elastic revulsion that from
time to time seems to shrivel the very hearts of the
miserable. If at some moments I fiercely defied all the
rigours of my fate, at others, and those of frequent
recurrence, I sunk into helpless despondence. I looked
forward without hope through the series of my ex-
istence, tears of anguish rushed from my eyes, my
courage became extinct, and I cursed the conscious
life that was reproduced with every returning day.
" Why," upon such occasions I was accustomed to
exclaim, "why am I overwhelmed with the load of ex-
istence ? Why are all these engines at work to torment
me ? I am no murderer ; yet, if I were, what worse
could I be fated to suffer ? How vile, squalid, and dis-
graceful is the state to which I am condemned I This
is not my place in the roll of existence, the place for
which either my temper or my understanding has
prepared me ! To what purpose serve the restless
aspirations of my soul, but to make me, like a frighted
bird, beat myself in vain against the enclosure of my
cage? Nature, barbarous nature! to me thou hast
proved indeed the worst of step-mothers; endowed
me with wishes insatiate, and sunk me in never-ending
degradation ! "
I might have thought myself more secure if I had
been in possession of money upon which to subsist.
The necessity of earmng for myself the means of exist-
ence, evidently tended to thwart the plan of secrecy to
which I was condemned. Whatever labour I adopted, or
deemed myself qualified to discharge, it was first to be
considered how I was to be provided with employment,
and where I was to find an employer or purchaser for
CALEB WILLIAMS. 355
my commodities. In the mean time I had no alter-
native. The little money with which I had escaped
from the blood- hunters was almost expended.
After the minutest consideration I was able to bestow
upon this question, I determined that literature should
be the field of my first experiment. I had read of
money being acquired in this way, and of prices given
by the speculators in this sort of ware to its proper
manufacturers. My qualifications I esteemed at a
slender valuation. I was not without a conviction that
experience and practice must pave the way to excel-
lent production. But, though of these I was utterly
destitute, my propensities had always led me in this
direction ; and my early thirst of knowledge had con-
ducted me to a more intimate acquaintance with books,
than could perhaps have been expected under my cir-
cumstances. If my literary pretensions were slight,
the demand I intended to make upon them was not
great. All I asked was a subsistence ; and I was per-
suaded few persons could subsist upon slenderer means
than myself. I also considered this as a temporary
expedient, and hoped that accident or time might
hereafter place me in a less precarious situation. The
reasons that principally determined my choice were,
that this employment called upon me for the least pre-
paration, and could, as I thought, be exercised with
least observation.
There was a solitary woman, of middle age, who
tenanted a chamber in this house, upon the same floor
with my own. I had no sooner determined upon the
destination of my industry than I cast my eye upon her
as the possible instrument for disposing of my pro-
ductions. Excluded as I was from all intercourse with
my species in general, I found pleasure in the occa-
sional exchange of a few words with this inoffensive
A A2
356 CALEB WILLIAMS.
and good-humoured creature, who was already of an
age to preclude scandal. She lived upon a very small
annuity, allowed her by a distant relation, a woman of
quality, who, possessed of thousands herself, had no
other anxiety with respect to this person than that she
should not contaminate her alliance by the exertion of
honest industry. This humble creature was of a uni-
formly cheerful and active disposition, unacquainted
alike with the cares of wealth and the pressure of
misfortune. Though her pretensions were small, and
her information slender, she was by no means deficient
in penetration. She remarked the faults and follies of
mankind with no contemptible discernment ; but her
temper was of so mild and forgiving a cast, as would
have induced most persons to believe that she per-
ceived nothing of the matter. Her heart overflowed
with the milk of kindness. She was sincere and ardent
in her attachments, and never did she omit a service
which she perceived herself able to render to a human
being.
Had it not been for these qualifications of temper, I
should probably have found that my appearance, that
of a deserted, solitary lad, of Jewish extraction, effec-
tually precluded my demands upon her kindness. But
I speedily perceived, from her manner of receiving
and returning civilities of an indifferent sort, that her
heart was too noble to have its effusions checked by
any base and unworthy considerations. Encouraged by
these preliminaries, I determined to select her as my
agent. I found her willing and alert in the business I
proposed to her. That I might anticipate occasions of
suspicion, I frankly told her that, for reasons which I
wished to be excused from relating, but which, if re-
lated, I was sure would not deprive me of her good
opinion, I found it necessary, for the present, to keep
CALEB WILLIAMS. 357
myself private. With this statement she readily ac-
quiesced, and told me that she had no desire for
any further information than I found it expedient to
give.
My first productions were of the poetical kind.
After having finished two or three, I directed this
generous creature to take them to the office of a news-
paper ; but they were rejected with contempt by the
Aristarchus of that place, who, having bestowed on
them a superficial glance, told her that such matters
were not in his way. I cannot help mentioning in this
place, that the countenance of Mrs. Marney (this was
the name of my ambassadress) was in all cases a
perfect indication of her success, and rendered ex-
planation by words wholly unnecessary. She interested
herself so unreservedly in what she undertook, that
she felt either miscarriage or good fortune much
more exquisitely than I did. I had an unhesitating
confidence in my own resources, and, occupied as I
was in meditations more interesting and more painful,
I regarded these matters as altogether trivial.
I quietly took the pieces back, and laid them upon
my table. Upon revisal, I altered and transcribed ono
of them, and, joining it with two others, despatched
them together to the editor of a magazine. He desired
they might be left with him till the 'day after to-
morrow. When that day came he told my friend
they should be inserted ; but, Mrs. Marney asking re-
specting the price, he replied, it was their constant rule
to give nothing for poetical compositions, the letter-
box being always full of writings of that sort ; but if
the gentleman would try his hand in prose, a short
essay or a tale, he would see what he could do for him.
With the requisition of my literary dictator I imme-
diately complied. I attempted a paper in the style of
A A 3
358 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Addison's Spectators, which was accepted. In a short
time I was upon an established footing in this quarter.
I however distrusted my resources in the way of moral
disquisition, and soon turned my thoughts to his other
suggestion, a tale. His demands upon me were now
frequent, and, to facilitate my labours, I bethought
myself of the resource of translation. I had scarcely
any convenience with respect to the procuring of books ;
but, as my memory was retentive, I frequently trans-
lated or modelled my narrative upon a reading of some
years before. By a fatality, for which I did not exactly
know how to account, my thoughts frequently led me
to the histories of celebrated robbers ; and I related,
from time to time, incidents and anecdotes of Car-
touche, Gusman d'Alfarache, and other memorable
worthies, whose career was terminated upon the gallows
or the scaffold.
In the mean time a retrospect to my own situation
rendered a perseverance even in this industry difficult
to be maintained. I often threw down my pen in an
ecstasy of despair. Sometimes for whole days together
I was incapable of action, and sunk into a sort of partial
stupor, too wretched to be described. Youth and health
however enabled me, from time to time, to get the
better of my dejection, and to rouse myself to some-
thing like a gaiety, which, if it had been permanent,
might have made this interval of my story tolerable to
my reflections.
CHAPTER IX.
WHILE I was thus endeavouring to occupy and pro-
vide for the intermediate period, till the violence of the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 359
pursuit after me might be abated, a new source of
danger opened upon me of which I had no previous
suspicion.
Ginee, the thief who had been expelled from Captain
Raymond's gang, had fluctuated, during the last years of
his life, between the two professions of a violator of
the laws and a -retainer to their administration. He
had originally devoted himself to the first ; and pro-
bably his initiation in the mysteries of thieving qua-
lified him to be peculiarly expert in the profession of a
thief-taker — a profession he had adopted, not from
choice, but necessity. In this employmept his re-
putation was great, though perhaps not equal to his
merits ; for it happens here as in other departments of
human society, that, however the subalterns may fur-
nish wisdom and skill, the principals exclusively pos-
ae§« the eclat. He was exercising this art in a very
prosperous manner, when it happened, by some acci-
dent, that one or two of his achievements previous to
his having shaken off the dregs of unlicensed depre-
dation were in danger of becoming subjects of public
attention. Having had repeated intimations of this, he
thought it prudent to decamp; and it was during this
period of his retreat that he entered into the
gang.
Such was the history of this man antecedently to
his being placed in the situation in which I had first
encountered him. At the time of that encounter he
was a veteran of Captain Raymond's gang ; for thieves
being a short-lived race, the character of veteran costs
the less time in acquiring. Upon his expulsion from
this community he returned once more to his lawful
profession, and by his old comrades was received with
congratulation as a lost sheep. In the vulgar classes
of society no length of time is sufficient to expiate a
A A 4
360 CALEB WILLIAMS.
crime ; but among the honourable fraternity of thief-
takers it is a rule never to bring one of their own
brethren to a reckoning when it can with any de-
cency be avoided. They are probably reluctant to
fix an unnecessary stain upon the ermine of their pro-
fession. Another rule observed by those who have
passed through the same gradation as Gines had done,
and which was adopted by Gines himself, is always to
reserve such as have been the accomplices of their de-
predations to the last, and on no account to assail them
without great necessity or powerful temptation. For
this reason, according to Gines's system of tactics, Cap-
tain Raymond and his confederates were, as he would
have termed it, safe from his retaliation.
But, though Gines was, in this sense of the term, a
man of strict honour, my case unfortunately did not
fall within the laws of honour he acknowledged. Mis-
fortune had overtaken me, and I was on all sides without
protection or shelter. The persecution to which I was
exposed was founded upon the supposition of my
having committed felony to an immense amount. But
in this Gines had had no participation ; he was careless
whether the supposition were true or false, and hated
me as much as if my innocence had been established
beyond the reach of suspicion.
The blood-hunters who had taken me into custody
at , related, as usual among their fraternity, a
part of their adventure, and told of the reason which
inclined them to suppose, that the individual who had
passed through their custody, was the very Caleb
Williams for whose apprehension a reward had been
offered of a hundred guineas. Gines, whose acuteness
was eminent in the way of his profession, by comparing
facts and dates, was induced to suspect in his own
mind, that Caleb Williams was the person he had
CALEB WILLIAMS. 361
hustled and wounded upon forest. Against that
person he entertained the bitterest aversion. I had
been the innocent occasion of his being expelled with
disgrace from Captain Raymond's gang ; and Gines, as
I afterwards understood, was intimately persuaded that
there was no comparison between the liberal and manly
profession of a robber from which I had driven him,
and the sordid and mechanical occupation of a blood-
hunter, to which he was obliged to return. He no
sooner received the information I have mentioned
than he vowed revenge. He determined to leave all
other objects, and consecrate every faculty of his
mind to the unkennelling me from my hiding-place.
The offered reward, which his vanity made him con-
sider as assuredly his own, appeared as the complete
indemnification of his labour and expense. Thus I
had to encounter the sagacity he possessed in the way
of his profession, whetted and stimulated by a senti-
ment of vengeance, in a mind that knew no restraint
from conscience or humanity.
When I drew to myself a picture of my situation
goon after having fixed on my present abode, I fool-
ishly thought, as the unhappy are accustomed to do,
that my calamity would admit of no aggravation. The
aggravation which, unknown to me, at this time oc-
curred was the most fearful that any imagination could
have devised. Nothing could have happened more
critically hostile to my future peace, than my fatal en-
counter with Gines upon forest. By this means,
as it now appears, I had fastened upon myself a second
enemy, of that singular and dreadful sort that is de-
termined never to dismiss its animosity as long as life
shall endure. While Falkland was the hungry lion
whose roarings astonished and appalled me, Gines was
a noxious insect, scarcely less formidable and tre-
362 CALEB WILLIAMS.
mendous, that hovered about my goings, and perpe-
tually menaced me with the poison of his sting.
The first step pursued by him in execution of his
project, was to set out for the sea-port town where I
had formerly been apprehended. From thence he
traced me to the banks of the Severn, and from the
banks of the Severn to London. It is scarcely ne-
cessary to observe that this is always practicable,
provided the pursuer have motives strong enough to
excite him to perseverance, unless the precautions of
the fugitive be, in the highest degree, both judicious in
the conception, and fortunate in the execution. Gines
indeed, in the course of his pursuit, was often obliged
to double his steps ; and, like the harrier, whenever he
was at a fault, return to the place where he had last
perceived the scent of the animal whose death he had
decreed. He spared neither pains nor time in the
gratification of the passion, which choice had made his
ruling one.
Upon my arrival in town he for a moment lost all
trace of me, London being a place in which, on account
of the magnitude of its dimensions, it might well be
supposed that an individual could remain^ hidden and
unknown. But no difficulty could discourage this new
adversary. He went from inn to inn (reasonably sup-
posing that there was no private house to which I
could immediately repair), till he found, by the de-
scription he gave, and the recollections he excited, that
I had slept for one night in the borough of Southwark.
But he could get no further information. The people
of the inn had no knowledge what had become of me
the next morning.
This however did but render him more eager in the
pursuit. The describing me was now more difficult, on
account of the partial change of dress I had made the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 363
second day of my being in town. But Gines at length
overcame the obstacle from that quarter.
Having traced me to my second inn, he was here
furnished with a more copious information. I had been
a subject of speculation for the leisure hours of some of
the persons belonging to this inn. An old woman, of
a most curious and loquacious disposrtion, who lived
opposite to it, and who that morning rose early to her
washing, had espied me from her window, by the light
of a large lamp which hung over the inn, as I issued
from the gate. She had but a very imperfect view of
me, but she thought there was something Jewish in
my appearance. She was accustomed to hold a con-
ference every morning with the landlady of the inn,
some'of the waiters and chambermaids occasionally as-
sisting at it. In the course of the dialogue of this
morning, she asked some questions about the Jew who
had slept there the night before. No Jew had slept
there. The curiosity of the landlady was excited in
her turn. By the time of the morning it could be no
other but me. It was very strange ! They compared
notes respecting my appearance and dress. No two
things could J>e more dissimilar. The Jew Christian,
upon any dearth of subjects of intelligence, repeatedly
furnished matter for their discourse.
The information thus afforded to Gines appeared
exceedingly material. But the performance did not
for some time keep pace with the promise. He could
not enter every private house into which lodgers were
ever admitted, in the same manner that he had treated
the inns. He walked the streets, and examined with
a curious and inquisitive eye the countenance of every
Jew about my stature ; but in vain. He repaired to
Duke's Place and the synagogues. It was not here
that in reality he could calculate upon finding me ; but
364 CALEB WILLIAMS.
he resorted to those means in despair, and as a last
hope. He was more than once upon the point of giving
up the pursuit ; but he was recalled to it by an insa-
tiable and restless appetite for revenge.
It was during this perturbed and fluctuating state of
his mind, that he chanced to pay a visit to a brother of
his, who was the head-workman of a printing-office.
There was little intercourse between these two per-
sons, their dispositions and habits of life being ex-
tremely dissimilar. The printer was industrious, sober,
inclined to methodism, and of a propensity to accumu-
lation. He was extremely dissatisfied with the cha-
racter and pursuits of his brother, and had made some
ineffectual attempts to reclaim him. But, though they
by no means agreed in their habits of thinking, they
sometimes saw each other. Gines loved to boast of as
many of his achievements as he dared venture to men-
tion ; and his brother was one more hearer, in addition
to the set of his usual associates. The printer was
amused with the blunt sagacity of remark and novelty
of incident that characterised Gines's conversation.
He was secretly pleased, in spite of all his sober and
church-going prejudices, that he was brother to a man
of so much ingenuity and fortitude.
After having listened for some time upon this occa-
sion to the wonderful stories which Gines, in his rugged
way, condescended to tell, the printer felt an ambition
to entertain his brother in his turn. He began to
retail some of my stories of Cartouche and Gusman
d' Alfarache. The attention of Gines was excited. His
first emotion was wonder; his second was envy and
aversion. Where did the printer get these stories?
This question was answered. "I will tell you what," said
the printer, " we none of us know what to make of the
writer of these articles. He writes poetry, and mo-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 365
rality, and history : I am a printer, and corrector of the
press, and may pretend without vanity to be a tolerably
good judge of these matters: he writes them all to my
mind extremely fine; and yet he is no more than a Jew."
[To my honest printer this seemed as strange, as if
they had been written by a Cherokee chieftain at the
(alls of the Mississippi.]
" A Jew ! How do you know ? Did you ever see
him?"
** No ; the matter is always brought to us by a
woman. But my master hates mysteries ; he likes to
gee his authors himself. So he plagues* and plagues
the old woman ; but he can never get any thing out
of her, except that one day she happened to drop that
the young gentleman was a Jew."
A Jew! a young gentleman! a person who did
every thing by proxy, and made a secret of all his
motions ! Here was abundant matter for the specu-
lations and suspicions of Gines. He was confirmed in
them, without adverting to the process of his own
mind, by the subject of my lucubrations, — men who
died by the hand of the executioner. He said little
more to his brother, except asking, as if casually, what
sort of an old woman this was ? of what age she might
be? and whether she often brought him materials o€"
this kind ? and soon after took occasion to leave him.
It was with vast pleasure that Gines had listened to
this unhoped-for information. Having collected from
his brother sufficient hints relative to the person and
appearance of Mrs. Marney, and understanding that
he expected to receive something from me the next
day, Gines took his stand in the street early, that he
might not risk miscarriage by negligence. He waited
several hours, but not without success. Mrs. Marney
came; he watched her into the house; and, after
366 CALEB WILLIAMS.
about twenty minutes delay, saw her return. He
dogged her from street to street ; observed her finally
enter the door of a private house ; and congratulated
himself upon having at length arrived at the consum-
mation of his labours.
The house she entered was not her own habitation.
By a sort of miraculous accident she had observed
Gines following her in the street. As she went home
she saw a woman who had fallen down in a fainting
fit. Moved by the compassion that was ever alive in
her, she approached her, in order to render her assist-
ance. Presently a crowd collected round them. Mrs.
Marney, having done what she was able, once more
proceeded homewards. Observing the crowd round
her, the idea of pickpockets occurred to her mind ;
she put her hands to her sides, and at the same time
looked round upon the populace. She had left the
circle somewhat abruptly ; and Gines, who had been
obliged to come nearer, lest he should lose her in the
confusion, was at that moment standing exactly oppo-
site to her. His visage was of the most extraordinary
kind ; habit had written the characters of malignant
cunning and dauntless effrontery in every line of his
face ; and Mrs. Marney, who was neither philosopher
nor physiognomist, was nevertheless struck. This good
woman, like most persons of her notable character,
had a peculiar way of going home, not through the open
streets, but by narrow lanes and alleys, with intricate
insertions and sudden turnings. In one of these, by
some accident, she once again caught a glance of her
pursuer. This circumstance, together with the singu-
larity of his appearance, awakened her conjectures.
Could he be following her ? It was the middle of the
day, and she could have no fears for herself. But
could this circumstance have any reference to me?
CALEB WILLIAMS. 367
She recollected the precautions and secrecy I prac-
tised, and had no doubt that I had reasons for what I
did. She recollected that she had always been upon
her guard respecting me ; but had she been sufficiently
so? She thought that, if she should be the means of
any mischief to me, she should be miserable for ever.
She determined therefore, by way of precaution in case
of the worst, to call at a friend's house, and send me
word of what had occurred. Having instructed her
friend, she went out immediately upon a visit to a
person in the exactly opposite direction, and desired
her friend to proceed upon the errand to me, five
minutes after she left the house. By this prudence
she completely extricated me from the present danger.
Meantime the intelligence that was brought me by
no means ascertained the greatness of the peril. For
any thing I could discover in it the circumstance
might be perfectly innocent, and the fear solely pro-
ceed from the over-caution and kindness of this bene-
volent and excellent woman. Yet, such was the misery
of my situation, I had no choice. For this menace or
no menace, I was obliged to desert my habitation at a
minute's warning, taking with me nothing but what I
could carry in my hand ; to see my generous bene-
factress no more; to quit my little arrangements and
provision; and to seek once again, in some forlorn
retreat, new projects, and, if of that I could h"ave any
rational hope, a new friend. I descended into the
street with a heavy, not an irresolute heart. It was
broad day. I said, persons are at this moment sup-
posed to be roaming the street in search of me : I must
not trust to the chance of their pursuing one direction,
and I another. I traversed half a dozen streets, and
then dropped into an obscure house of entertainment
for persons of small expense. In this house I took
368 CALEB WILLIAMS.
some refreshment, passed several hours of active but
melancholy thinking, and at last procured a bed. As
soon however as it was dark I went out (for this was
indispensable) to purchase the materials of a new dis-
guise. Having adjusted it as well as I could during
the night, I left this asylum, with the same precautions
that I had employed in former instances.
CHAPTER X.
I PROCURED a new lodging. By some bias of the
mind, it may be, gratifying itself with images of peril,
I inclined to believe that Mrs. Marney's alarm had not
been without foundation. I was however unable to
conjecture through what means danger had approached
me ; and had therefore only the unsatisfactory remedy
of redoubling my watch upon all my actions. Still I
had the joint considerations pressing upon me of se-
curity and subsistence. I had some small remains of
the produce of my former industry ; but this was but
small, for my employer was in arrear with me, and I
did not choose in any method to apply to him for
payment. The anxieties of my mind, in spite of all
my struggles, preyed upon my health. I did not con-
sider myself as in safety for an instant. My appear-
ance was wasted to a shadow ; and I started at every
sound that was unexpected. Sometimes I was half
tempted to resign myself into the hands of the law, and
brave its worst ; but resentment and indignation at
those times speedily flowed back upon my mind, and
re-animated my perseverance.
I knew no better resource with respect to subsistence
than that I had employed in the former instance, of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 369
seeking some third person to stand between me and
the disposal of my industry. I might find an individual
iv.uly to undertake this office in my behalf; but where
should I find the benevolent soul of Mrs. Marney?
The person I fixed upon was a Mr. Spurrel, a man who
took in work from the watchmakers, and had an apart-
ment upon our second floor. I examined .him two or
three times with irresolute glances, as we passed upon
the stairs, before I would venture to accost him. He
observed this, and at length kindly invited me into his
apartment.
Being seated, he condoled with me upon my seeming
bad health, and the solitary mode of my living, and
wished to know whether he could be of any service to
me. " From the first moment he saw me, he had
conceived an affection for me." In my present dis-
guise I appeared twisted and deformed, and in other
respects by no means an object of attraction. But it
seemed Mr. Spurrel had lost an only son about six
months before, and I was " the very picture of him."
If I had put off my counterfeited ugliness, I should
probably have lost all hold upon his affections. " He
was now an old man," as he observed, " just dropping
into the grave, and his son had been his only consola-
tion. The poor lad was always ailing, but he had been
a nurse to him ; and the more tending he required
while he was alive, the more he missed him now he
was dead. Now he had not a friend, nor any body
that cared for him, in the whole world. If I pleased, I
should be instead of that son to him, and he would
treat me in all respects with the same attention and
kindness/'
I expressed my sense of these benevolent offers,
but told him that I should be sorry to be in any way
burthensome to him. " My ideas at present led me to
B B
370 CALEB WILLIAMS.
a private and solitary life, and my chief difficulty was
to reconcile this with some mode of earning necessary
subsistence. If he would condescend to lend me his.
assistance in smoothing this difficulty, it would be the
greatest benefit he could confer on me." I added, that
"my mind had always had a mechanical and industrious
turn, and that I did not doubt of soon mastering any
craft to which I seriously applied myself. I had not
been brought up to any trade ; but, if he would favour
me with his instructions, I would work with him as long
as he pleased for a bare subsistence. I knew that I
was asking of him an extraordinary kindness; but I was
urged on the one hand by the most extreme necessity,
and encouraged on the other by the persuasiveness of
his friendly professions."
The old man dropped some tears over my apparent
distress, and readily consented to every thing I pro-
posed. Our agreement was soon made, and I entered
upon my functions accordingly. My new friend wa»
a man of a singular turn of mind. Love of money,
and a charitable officiousness of demeanour, were his
leading characteristics. He lived in the most penurious
manner, and denied himself every indulgence. I en-
titled myself almost immediately, as he frankly ac-
knowledged, to some remuneration for my labours,
and accordingly he insisted upon my being paid. He
did not however, as some persons would have done
under the circumstance, pay me the whole amount of
my earnings, but professed to subtract from them
twenty per cent, as an equitable consideration for in-
struction, and commission-money in procuring me a
channel for my industry. Yet he frequently shed
tears over me, was uneasy in every moment of our in-
dispensable separation, and exhibited perpetual tokens
of attachment and fondness. I found him a man of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 371
excellent mechanical contrivance, and received Con-
siderable pleasure from his communications. My own
sources of information were various ; and he frequently
expressed his wonder and delight in the contemplation
of my powers, as well of amusement as exertion.
Thus I appeared to have attained a situation not
less eligible than in my connection with Mrs. Marney.
I wag however still more unhappy. My fits of de-
spondence were deeper, and of more frequent recur-
rence. My health every day grew worse ; and Mr.
Spurrel was not without apprehensions that he should
lose me, as he before lost his only son.
I had not been long however in this new situation,
before an incident occurred which filled me with
greater alarm and apprehension than ever. I was
walking out one evening, after a long visitation of
languor, for an hour's exercise and air, when my
ears were struck with two or three casual sounds from
the mouth of'a hawker who was bawling his wares.
I stood still to inform myself more exactly, when, to
my utter astonishment and confusion, I heard him
deliver himself nearly in these words : " Here you,
have the MOST WONDERFUL AND SURPRISING HIS-
TORY AND MIRACULOUS ADVENTURES OF CALEB
WILLIAMS : you are informed how he first robbed,
and then brought false accusations against his master ;
a* also of his attempting divers times to break out of
prison, till at last he effected his escape in the most
loonderful and uncredible manner ; as also of his tra-
velling the kingdom in various disguises, and the rob-
beries he committed until a most desperate and daring
gang of thieves ; and of his coming up to London,
where it is supposed he nmo lies concealed ; with a, true
OH* faithful copy of the hue and cry printed and pub-
Jgjjfcgf by one of his Majesty s most principal secretaries
B B 2
372 CALEB WILLIAMS.
of stale, offering a reward of one hundred guineas for
apprehending him. All for the price of one half penny T
Petrified as I was at these amazing and dreadful
sounds, I had the temerity to go up to the man and
purchase one of his papers. I was desperately re-
solved to know the exact state of the fact, and what I
had to depend upon. I carried it with me a little way,
till, no longer able to endure the tumult of my im-
patience, I contrived to make out the chief part of its
contents, by the help of a lamp, at the upper end of a
narrow passage. I found it contain a greater number of
circumstances than could have been expected in this
species of publication. I was equalled to the most
notorious housebreaker in the art of penetrating
through walls and doors, and to the most accom-
plished swindler in plausibleness, duplicity, and dis-
guise. The hand-bill which Larkins had first brought
to us upon the forest was printed at length. All my
disguises, previously to the last alarm that had been
given me by the providence of Mrs. Marney, were
faithfully enumerated ; and the public were warned to
be upon their watch against a person of an uncouth
and extraordinary appearance, and who lived in a
recluse and solitary manner. I also learned from this
paper that my former lodgings had been searched on
the very evening of my escape, and that Mrs. Marney
had been sent to Newgate, upon a charge of misprision
of felony. — This last circumstance affected me deeply.
In the midst of my own sufferings my sympathies
flowed undiminished. It was a most cruel and into-
lerable idea, if I were not only myself to be an object
of unrelenting persecution, but my very touch were
to be infectious, and every one that succoured me was
to be involved in the common ruin. My instant feeling
was that of a willingness to undergo the utmost malice
CALEB WILLIAMS. 373
of my enemies, could I by that means have saved this
excellent woman from alarm and peril I afterwards
learned that Mrs. Marney was delivered from confine-
ment, by the interposition of her noble relation.
My sympathy for Mrs. Marney however was at this
moment a transient one. A more imperious and irre-
sistible consideration demanded to be heard.
With what sensations did I ruminate upon this
paper? Every word of it carried despair to my
heart. The actual apprehension that I dreaded
would perhaps have been less horrible. It would
have put an end to that lingering terror to which I
was a prey. Disguise was no longer of use. A
numerous class of individuals, through every depart-
ment, almost every house of the metropolis, would
be induced to look with a suspicious eye upon every
stranger, especially every solitary stranger, that fell
under their observation. The prize of one hundred
guineas was held out to excite their avarice and
sharpen their penetration. It was no longer Bow-
street, it was a million of men in arms against me.
Neither had I the refuge, which few men have been
so miserable as to want, of one single individual with
whom to repose my alarms, and who might shelter me
from the gaze of indiscriminate curiosity.
What could exceed the horrors of this situation?
My heart knocked against my ribs, my bosom heaved,
I gasped and panted for breath. " There is no end
then," said I, " to my persecutors ! My unwearied and
long-continued labours lead to no termination I Ter-
mination ! No ; the lapse of time, that cures all other
things, makes my case more desperate ! Why then,"
exclaimed I, a new train of thought suddenly rushing
into my mind, " why should I sustain the contest any
longer ? I can at least elude my persecutors in death.
BBS
374 CALEB WILLIAMS.
I can bury myself and the traces of my existence
together in friendly oblivion ; and thus bequeath
eternal doubt, and ever new alarm, to those who have
no peace but in pursuing me ! "
In the midst of the horrors with which I was now
impressed, this idea gave me pleasure ; and I hastened
to the Thames to put it in instant execution. Such
was the paroxysm of my mind that my powers of
vision became partially suspended. I was no longer
conscious to the feebleness of disease, but rushed along
with fervent impetuosity. I passed from street to
street without observing what direction I pursued.
After wandering I know not how long, I arrived at
London Bridge. I hastened to the stairs, and saw the
river covered with vessels.
"No human being must see me," said I, " at the instant
that I vanish for ever." This thought required some
consideration. A portion of time had elapsed since
my first desperate purpose. My understanding began
to return. The sight of the vessels suggested to me
the idea of once more attempting to leave my native
country.
I enquired, and speedily found that the cheapest
passage I could procure was in a vessel moored near
the Tower, and which was to sail in a few days for
Middleburgh in Holland. I would have gone instantly
on board, and have endeavoured to prevail with the
captain to let me remain there till he sailed; but
unfortunately I had not money enough in my pocket
to defray my passage.
It was worse than this. I had not money enough in
the world. I however paid the captain half his de-
mand, and promised to return with the rest. I knew
not in what manner it was to be procured, but I be-
lieved that I should not fail in it. I had some idea
CALEB WILLIAMS. 375
of applying to Mr. Spurrel. Surely he would not
refuse me ? He appeared to love me with parental
affection, and I thought I might trust myself for a
moment in his hands.
I approached ray place of residence with a heavy
and foreboding heart. Mr. Spurrel was not at home ;
and I was obliged to wait for his return. Worn out
with fatigue, disappointment, and the ill state of my
health, I sunk upon a chair. Speedily however I
recollected myself. I had work of Mr. Spurrel's in my
trunk, which had been delivered out to me that very
morning, to five times the amount I wanted. I can-
vassed for a moment whether I should make use of
this property as if it were my own ; but I rejected the
idea with disdain. I had never in the smallest de-
gree merited the reproaches that were cast upon me ;
and I determined I never would merit them. I sat
gasping, anxious, full of the blackest forebodings. My
terrors appeared, even to my own mind, greater and
more importunate than the circumstances authorised.
It was extraordinary that Mr. Spurrel should be
abroad at this hour ; I had never known it happen be-
fore. His bed-time was between nine and ten. Ten
o'clock came, eleven o'clock, but not Mr. Spurrel. At
midnight I heard his knock at the door. Every soul
in the house was in bed. Mr. Spurrel, on account of
his regular hours, was unprovided with a key to open
for himself. A gleam, a sickly gleam, of the social
spirit came over my heart. I flew nimbly down stairs,
and opened the door.
I could perceive, by the little taper in my hand,
something extraordinary in his countenance. I had
not time to speak, before I saw two other men follow
him. At the first glance I was sufficiently assured
what sort of persons they were. At the second, I
BB 4
376 CALEB WILLIAMS.
perceived that one of them was no other than Gines
himself. I had understood formerly that he had
been of this profession, and I was not surprised to
find him in it again. Though I had for three hours
endeavoured, as it were, to prepare myself for the
unavoidable necessity of falling once again into the
hands of the officers of law, the sensation I felt at
their entrance was indescribably agonising. I was
besides not a little astonished at the time and manner
of their entrance; and I felt anxious to know whether
Mr. Spurrel could be base enough to have been their
introducer.
I was not long held in perplexity. He no sooner
saw his followers within the door, than he exclaimed,
with convulsive eagerness, " There, there, that is your
man ! thank God ! thank God I " Gines looked eagerly
in my face, with a countenance expressive alternately
of hope and doubt, and answered, " By God, and I do
not know whether it be or no I I am afraid we are in
the wrong box I " Then recollecting himself, " We will
go into the house, and examine further however." We
all went up stairs into Mr. Spurrel's room ; I set down
the candle upon the table. I had hitherto been silent ;
but I determined not to desert myself, and was a little
encouraged to exertion by the scepticism of Gines.
With a calm and deliberate manner therefore, in my
feigned voice, one of the characteristics of which was
lisping, I asked, " Pray, gentlemen, what may be your
pleasure with me ? " — " Why," said Gines, " our errand
is with one Caleb Williams, and a precious rascal he
is ! I ought to know the chap well enough ; but they
say he has as many faces as there are days in the
year. So you please to pull off your face ; or, if you
cannot do that, at least you can pull off your clothes^
and let us see what your hump is made of%"
CALEB WILLIAMS. 377
I remonstrated, but in vain. I stood detected in
part of my artifice ; and Gines, though still uncertain,
was every moment more and more confirmed in his
suspicions. Mr. Spurrel perfectly gloated, with eyes
that seemed ready to devour every thing that passed.
As my imposture gradually appeared more palpable,
he repeated his exclamation, " Thank God ! thank
God!" At last, tired with this scene of mummery,
and disgusted beyond measure with the base and
hypocritical figure I seemed to exhibit, I exclaimed,
" Well, I am Caleb Williams ; conduct me wherever
you please! And now, Mr. Spurrel !" He gave
a violent start. The instant I declared myself his
transport had been at the highest, and was, to any
power he was able to exert, absolutely uncontrollable.
But the unexpectedness of my address, and the tone
in which I spoke, electrified him. " Is it possi-
ble," continued I, " that you should have been the
wretch to betray me ? What have I done to deserve
this treatment ? Is this the kindness you professed ?
the affection that was perpetually in your mouth ? to
be the death of me!"
" My poor boy ! my dear creature ! " cried Spurrel,
whimpering, and in a tone of the humblest expostula-
tion, " indeed I could not help it ! I would have helped
it, if I could ! I hope they will not hurt my darling !
I am sure I shall die if they do!"
" Miserable driveller!" interrupted I, with a stern
voice, " do you betray me into the remorseless fangs of
the law, and then talk of my not being hurt ? I know
my sentence, and am prepared to meet it ! You have
fixed the halter upon my neck, and at the same price
would have done so to your only son! Go, count
your accursed guineas! My life would have been
gafer in the hands of one I had never seen than in
378 CALEB WILLIAMS.
yours, whose mouth and whose eyes for ever ran over
with crocodile affection ! "
I have always believed that my sickness, and, as he
apprehended, approaching death, contributed its part
to the treachery of Mr. Spurrel. He predicted to his
own mind the time when I should no longer be able
to work. He recollected with agony the expense
that attended his son's illness and death. He deter-
mined to afford me no assistance of a similar kind. He
feared however the reproach of deserting me. He
feared the tenderness of his nature. He felt that I
was growing upon his affections, and that in a short
time he could not have deserted me. He was driven
by a sort of implicit impulse, for the sake of avoiding
one ungenerous action, to take refuge in another, the
basest and most diabolical. This motive, conjoining
with the prospect of the proffered reward, was an
incitement too powerful for him to resist.
CHAPTER XI.
HAVING given vent to my resentment, I left Mr.
Spurrel motionless, and unable to utter a word. Gines
and his companion attended me. It is unnecessary to
repeat all the insolence of this man. He alternately
triumphed in the completion of his revenge, and
regretted the loss of the reward to the shrivelled old
curmudgeon we had just quitted, whom however he
swore he would cheat of it by one means or another.
He claimed to himself the ingenuity of having devised
the halfpenny legend, the thought of which was all his
CALEB WILLIAMS. 379
o\vn. and was an expedient that was impossible to fail.
Tli ere was neither law nor justice, he said, to be had,
it' Hunks who had done nothing were permitted to
pocket the cash, and his merit were left undistinguished
and pennyless.
I paid but little attention to his story. It struck upon
my sense, and I was able to recollect it at my nearest
leisure, though I thought not of it at the time. For
the present I was busily employed, reflecting on my
ne. v situation, and the conduct to be observed in it.
The thought of suicide had twice, in moments of
uncommon despair, suggested itself to my mind ; but it
was far from my habitual meditations. At present, and
in all cases where death was immediately threatened
me from the injustice of others, I felt myself disposed
to contend to die last.
My prospects were indeed sufficiently gloomy and
discouraging. How much labour had I exerted, first
to extricate myself from prison, and next to evade the
diligence of my pursuers ; and the result of all, to be
brought back to the point from which I began ! I had
gained fame indeed, the miserable fame to have my
story bawled forth by hawkers and ballad-mongers, to
have ray praises as an active and enterprising villain
celebrated among footmen and chambermaids ; but I
was neither an Erostratus nor an Alexander, to die con-
tented with that species of eulogium. With respect to
all that was solid, what chance could I find in new
exertions of a similar nature? Never was a human
creature pursued by enemies more inventive or enve-
nomed. I could have small hope that they would ever
cease their persecution, or that my future attempts
would be crowned with a more desirable issue.
They were considerations like these that dictated my
resolution. My mind had been gradually weaning from
380 CALEB WILLIAMS.
Mr. Falkland, till its feeling rose to something like abhor-
rence. I had long cherished a reverence for him, which
not even animosity and subornation on his part could
utterly destroy. But I now ascribed a character so
inhumanly sanguinary to his mind ; I saw something so
fiend-like in the thus hunting me round the world, and
determining to be satisfied with nothing less than my
blood, while at the same time he knew my innocence,
my indisposition to mischief, nay, I might add, my
virtues ; that henceforth I trampled reverence and the
recollection of former esteem under my feet. I lost all
regard to his intellectual greatness, and all pity for the
agonies of his soul. I also would abjure forbearance.
I would show myself bitter and inflexible as he had
done. Was it wise in him to drive me into extremity
and madness ? Had he no fears for his own secret and
atrocious offences ?
I had been obliged to spend the remainder of the
night upon which I had been apprehended, in prison.
During the interval I had thrown off every vestige of
disguise, and appeared the next morning in my own
person. I was of course easily identified; and, this
being the whole with which the magistrates before
whom I now stood thought themselves concerned, they
were proceeding to make out an order for my being
conducted back to my own county. I suspended the
despatch of this measure by observing that I had some-
thing to disclose. This is an overture to which men
appointed for the administration of criminal justice
never fail to attend.
I went before the magistrates, to whose office Gines
and his comrade conducted me, fully determined to
publish those astonishing secrets of which I had
hitherto been the faithful depository ; and, once for
all, to turn the tables upon my accuser. It was time
CALEB WILLIAMS. 381
that the real criminal should be the sufferer, and not
that innocence should for ever labour under the op-
pression of guilt.
I said that " I had always protested my innocence,
and must now repeat the protest."
"In that case," retorted the senior magistrate ab-
ruptly, " what can you have to disclose ? If you are in-
nocent, that is no business of ours I We act officially."
" I always declared," continued I, " that I was the
perpetrator of no guilt, but that the guilt wholly be-
longed to my accuser. He privately conveyed these
effects among my property, and then charged, me with
the robbery. I now declare more than that, that this
man is a murderer, that I detected his criminality, and
that, for that reason, he is determined to deprive me
of life. I presume, gentlemen, that you do consider it
as your business to take this declaration. I am per-
suaded you will be by no means disposed, actively or
passively, to contribute to the atrocious injustice under
which I suffer, to the imprisonment and condemnation
of an innocent man, in order that a murderer may go
free. I suppressed this story as long as I could. I
was extremely averse to be the author of the unhappi-
ness or the death of a human being. But all patience
and submission have their limits."
" Give me leave, sir," rejoined the magistrate, with
an air of affected moderation, " to ask you two questions.
Were you any way aiding, abetting, or contributing to
this murder ? "
« No."
" And pray, sir, who is this Mr. Falkland? and what
may have been the nature of your connection with
him?"
" Mr. Falkland is a gentleman of six thousand per
annum. ~~1 lived with him as his secretary."
382 CALEB WILLIA]\rSV
" In other words, you were his servant ? "
" As you please."
" Very well, sir ; that is quite enough for me. First,
I have to tell you, as a magistrate, that I can have
nothing to do with your declaration. If you had been
concerned in the murder you talk of, that would alter
the case. But it is out of all reasonable rule for a
magistrate to take an information from a felon, except
against his accomplices. Next, I think it right to
observe to you, in my own proper person, that you
appear to me to be the most impudent rascal I ever
saw. Why, are you such an ass as to suppose, that the
sort of story you have been telling, can be of any
service to you, either here or at the assizes, or any
where else ? A fine time of it indeed it would be, if,
when gentlemen of six thousand a year take up their
servants for robbing them, those servants could trump
up such accusations as these, and could get any ma-
gistrate or court of justice to listen to them ! Whether
or no the felony with which you stand charged would
have brought you to the gallows, I will not pretend
to say : but I am sure this story will. There would
be a speedy end to all order and good government, if
fellows that trample upon ranks and distinctions in this
atrocious sort were upon any consideration suffered to
get off."
" And do you refuse, sir, to attend to the particulars
of the charge I allege ? "
" Yes, sir, I do. — But, if I did not, pray what wit-
nesses have you of the murder ? "
This question staggered me.
" None. But I believe I can make out a circum-
stantial proof, of a nature to force attention from the
most indifferent hearer."
" So I thought. — Officers, take him from the bar !"
CALEB WILLIAMS. 383
Such was the success of this ultimate resort on
my part, upon which I had built with such undoubt-
ing confidence. Till now, I had conceived that the
unfavourable situation in which I was placed was
prolonged by my own forbearance ; and I had de-
termined to endure all that human nature could
support, rather than have recourse to this extreme
recrimination. That idea secretly consoled me under
all my calamities : it was a voluntary sacrifice, and was
cheerfully made. I thought myself allied to the army
of martyrs and confessors ; I applauded my fortitude
and self-denial ; and I pleased myself with the idea,
that I had the power, though I hoped never to employ
it. by an unrelenting display of my resources, to put
an end at once to my sufferings and persecutions.
And this at last was the justice of mankind ! A man,
under certain circumstances, shall not be heard in the
detection of a crime, because he has not been a par-
ticipator of it I The story of a flagitious murder shall
be listened to with indifference, while an innocent man
is hunted, like a wild beast, to the furthest corners of
the earth ! Six thousand a year shall protect a man
from accusation ; and the validity of an impeachment
shall be superseded, because the author of it is a
servant !
I was conducted back to the very prison from which
a few months before I had made my escape. With a
bursting heart I entered those walls, compelled to feel
that all my more than Herculean labours served for my
own torture, and for no other end. Since my escape
from prison I had acquired some knowledge of the
world; I had learned by bitter experience, by how
many links society had a hold upon me, and how closely
the snares of despotism beset me. I no longer beheld
384 CALEB WILLIAMS.
the world, as my youthful fancy had once induced me
to do, as a scene in which to hide or to, appear, and to
exhibit the freaks of a wanton vivacity. I saw my
whole species as ready, in one mode or other, to be
made the instruments of the tyrant. Hope died away
in the bottom of my heart. Shut up for the first night
in my dungeon, I was seized at intervals with tempo-
rary frenzy. From time to time, I rent the universal
silence with the roarings of unsupportable despair. But
this was a transient distraction. I soon returned to
the sober recollection of myself and my miseries.
My prospects were more gloomy, and my situation
apparently more irremediable, than ever. I was ex-
posed again, if that were of any account, to the inso-
lence and tyranny that are uniformly exercised within
those walls. Why should I repeat the loathsome
tale of all that was endured by me, and is endured by
every man who is unhappy enough to fall under the
government of these consecrated ministers of national
jurisprudence? The sufferings I had already expe-
rienced, my anxieties, my flight, the perpetual expect-
ation of being discovered, worse than the discovery
itself, would perhaps have been enough to satisfy the
most insensible individual, in the court of his own con-
science, if I had even been the felon I was pretended
to be. But the law has neither eyes, nor ears, nor
bowels of humanity ; and it turns into marble the hearts
of all those that are nursed in its principles.
I however once more recovered my spirit of deter-
mination. I resolved that, while I had life, I would
never be deserted by this spirit. Oppressed, annihi-
lated I might be ; but, if I died, I would die resisting.
What use, what advantage, what pleasurable sentiment,
could arise from a tame surrender ? There is no man
CALEB WILLIAMS. 385
that is ignorant, that to humble yourself at the feet of
the law is a bootless task; in her courts there is no
room for amendment and reformation.
My fortitude may to some persons appear above the
standard of human nature. But if I draw back the
veil from my heart they will readily confess their mis-
take. My heart bled at every pore. My resolution
was not the calm sentiment of philosophy and reason.
It was a gloomy and desperate purpose ; the creature,
not of hope, but of a mind austerely held to its design,
that felt, as it were, satisfied with the naked effort, and
prepared to give success or miscarriage to the winds.
It was to this miserable condition, which might awaken
sympathy in the most hardened bosom, that Mr. Falk-
land had reduced me.
In the mean time, strange as it may seem, here, in
prison, subject to innumerable hardships, and in the
assured expectation of a sentence of death, I recovered
my health* I ascribe this to the state of my mind,
which was now changed, from perpetual anxiety, terror,
and alarm, the too frequent inmates of a prison, but
which I upon this occasion did not seem to bring
along with me, to a desperate firmness.
I anticipated the event of my trial. I determined
once more to escape from my prison ; nor did I doubt of
my ability to effect at least this first step towards my
future preservation. The assizes however were near,
and there were certain considerations, unnecessary to
be detailed, that persuaded me there might be benefit
in waiting till my trial should actually be terminated,
before I made my attempt.
It stood upon the list as one of the latest to be
brought forward. I was therefore extremely surprised
to find it called out of its order, early on the morning of
the second day. But, if this were unexpected, how
c c
CALEB WILLIAMS.
much greater was my astonishment, when my prose-
cutor was called, to find neither Mr. Falkland, nor Mr.
Forester, nor a single individual of any description, ap-
pear against me ! The recognizances into which my
prosecutors had entered were declared to be forfeited ;
and I was dismissed without further impediment from
the bar.
The effect which this incredible reverse produced
upon my mind it is impossible to express. I, who had
come to that bar with the sentence of death already in
idea ringing in my ears, to be told that I was free to
transport myself whithersoever I pleased ! Was it for
this that I had broken through so many locks and
bolts, and the adamantine walls of my prison ; that I
had passed so many anxious days, and sleepless, spectre-
haunted nights; that I had racked my invention for
expedients of evasion and concealment ; that my mind
had been roused to an energy of which I could scarcely
have believed it capable ; that my existence had been
enthralled to an ever-living torment, such as I could
scarcely have supposed it in man to endure ? Great
God ! what is man ? Is he thus blind to the future,
thus totally unsuspecting of what is to occur in the
next moment of his existence? I have somewhere
read, that heaven in mercy hides from us the future
incidents of our life. My own experience does not
well accord with this assertion. In this instance at
least I should have been saved from insupportable
labour and undescribable anguish, could I have foreseen
the catastrophe of this most interesting transaction.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 387
CHAPTER XII.
IT was not long before I took my everlasting leave of
this detested and miserable scene. My heart was for
the present too full of astonishment and exultation in
my unexpected deliverance, to admit of anxiety about
the future. I withdrew from the town ; I rambled with
a slow and thoughtful pace, now bursting with exclam-
ation, and now buried in profound and undefinable
reverie. Accident led me towards the very heath
which had first sheltered me, when, upon a former
occasion, I broke out of my prison. I wandered among
its cavities and its valleys. It was a forlorn and deso-
late solitude. I continued here I know not how long.
Night at length overtook me unperceived, and I pre-
pared to return for the present to the town I had
quitted*
It was now perfectly dark, when two men, whom I
had not previously observed, sprung upon me from
behind. They seized me by the arms, and threw me
upon the ground. I had no time for resistance or
recollection. I could however perceive that one of
them was the diabolical Gines. They blindfolded,
gagged me, and hurried me I knew not whither. As
we passed along in silence, I endeavoured to con-
jecture what could be the meaning of this extraordi-
nary violence. I was strongly impressed with the idea,
that, after the event of this morning, the most severe
and painful part of my history was past; and, strange
as it may seem, I could not persuade myself to regard
with alarm this unexpected attack. It might how-
ever be some new project, suggested by the brutal
temper and unrelenting animosity of Gines.
cc 2
388 CALEB WILLIAMS.
I presently found that we were returned into the
town I had just quitted. They led me into a house,
arid, as soon as they had taken possession of a room,
freed me from the restraints they had before imposed
Here Gines informed me with a malicious grin that
no harm was intended me, and therefore I should show
most sense in keeping myself quiet. I perceived that
we were in an inn ; I overheard company in a room at
no great distance from us, and therefore was now as
thoroughly aware as he could be, that there was at
present little reason to stand in fear of any species of
violence, and that it would be time enough to resist,
when they attempted to conduct me from the inn in the
same manner that they had brought me into1 it. I was
not without some curiosity to see the conclusion that
was to follow upon so extraordinary a commencement.
The preliminaries I have described were scarcely
completed, before Mr. Falkland entered the room. I
remember Collins, when he first communicated to me
the particulars of our patron's history, observed that he
was totally unlike the man he had once been. I had
no means of ascertaining the truth of that observation.
But it was strikingly applicable to the spectacle which
now presented itself to my eyes, though, when I last
beheld this unhappy man, he had been a victim to the
same passions, a prey to the same undying remorse, as
now. Misery was at that time inscribed in legible
characters upon his countenance. But now he appeared
like nothing that had ever been visible in human shape.
His visage was haggard, emaciated, and fleshless. His
complexion was a dun and tarnished red, the colour
uniform through every region of the face, and suggested
the idea of its being burnt and parched by the eternal
fire that burned within him. His eyes were red, quick,
wandering, full of suspicion and rage. His hair was
CALEB WILLIAMS. 389
neglected, ragged, and floating. His whole figure was
thin, to a degree that suggested the idea rather of a
skeleton than a person actually alive. Life seemed
hardly to be the capable inhabitant of so woe-begone
and ghost-like a figure. The taper of wholesome life
was expired ; but passion, and fierceness, and frenzy,
were able for the present to supply its place.
I was to the utmost degree astonished and shocked
at the sight of him — He sternly commanded my con-
ductors to leave the room.
" Well, sir, I have this day successfully exerted my-
self to save your life from the gallows. A fortnight
ago you did what you were able to bring my life to that
ignominious close.
" Were you so stupid and undistinguishing as not to
know that the preservation of your life was the uniform
object of my exertions ? Did not I maintain you in
prison ? Did not I endeavour to prevent your being
sent thither? Could you mistake the bigoted and
obstinate conduct of Forester, in offering a hundred
guineas for your apprehension, for mine ?
" I had my eye upon you in all your wanderings.
You have taken no material step through their whole
course with which I have not been acquainted. I me-
ditated to do you good. I have spilt no blood but that
of Tyrrel : that was in the moment of passion ; and it
has been the subject of my uninterrupted and hourly
remorse. I have connived at no man's fate but that
of the Hawkinses : they could no otherwise have been
saved, than by my acknowledging myself a murderer.
The rest of my life has been spent in acts of bene-
volence.
" I meditated to do you good. For that reason I was
willing to prove you. You pretended to act towards
me with consideration and forbearance. If you had
c c 3
390 CALEB WILLIAMS.
persisted in that to the end, I would yet have found a
way to reward you. I left you to your own discretion.
You might show the impotent malignity of your own
heart ; but, in the circumstances in which you were
then placed, I knew you could not hurt me. Your
forbearance has proved, as I all along suspected, empty
and treacherous. You have attempted to blast my
reputation. You have sought to disclose the select
and eternal secret of my soul. Because you have done
that, I will never forgive you. I will remember it to
my latest breath. The memory shall survive me, when
my existence is no more. Do you think you are out
of the reach of my power, because a court of justice
has acquitted you ? "
While Mr. Falkland was speaking a sudden dis-
temper came over his countenance, his whole frame
was shaken by an instantaneous convulsion, and he
staggered to a chair. In about three minutes he re-
covered.
" Yes," said he, " I am still alive. I shall live for
days, and months, and years ; the power that made
me, of whatever kind it be, can only determine how
long. I live the guardian of my reputation. That,
and to endure a misery such as man never endured,
are the only ends to which I live. But, when I am
no more, my fame shall still survive. My character
shall be revered as spotless and unimpeachable by all
posterity, as long as the name of Falkland shall be
repeated in the most distant regions of the many-
peopled globe."
Having said this, he returned to the discourse which
more immediately related to my future condition and
happiness.
" There is one condition," said he, " upon which you
may obtain some mitigation of your future calamity.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 391
At is ror that purpose that I have sent for you. Listen
to my proposal with deliberation and sobriety. Re-
member, that the insanity is not less to trifle with the
resolved determination of my soul, than it would be to
pull a mountain upon your head that hung trembling
upon the edge of the mighty Apennine !
" I insist then upon your signing a paper, declar-
ing, in the most solemn manner, that I am innocent
of murder, and that the charge you alleged at the
office in Bow-street is false, malicious, and groundless.
Perhaps you may scruple out of a regard to truth. Is
truth then entitled to adoration for its own sake, and
not for the sake of the happiness it is calculated to
produce ? Will a reasonable man sacrifice to barren
truth, when benevolence, humanity, and every con-
sideration that is dear to the human heart, require
that it should be superseded ? It is probable that I
may never make use of this paper, but I require it, as
the only practicable reparation to the honour you have
assailed. This is what I had to propose. I expect
your answer/*
" Sir," answered I, " I have heard you to an end,
and I stand in need of no deliberation to enable me to
answer you in the negative. You took me up a raw
and inexperienced boy, capable of being moulded to
any form you pleased. But you have communicated
to me volumes of experience in a very short period.
I am no longer irresolute and pliable. What is the
power you retain over my fate I am unable to discover.
You may destroy me; but you cannot make me
tremble. I am not concerned to enquire, whether
what I have suffered flowed from you by design or
otherwise; whether you were the author of my miseries,
or only connived at them. This I know, that I have
suffered too exquisitely on your account, for me to
c c 4
392 CALEB WILLIAMS.
feel the least remaining claim on your part to my
making any voluntary sacrifice.
"You say that benevolence and humanity require this
sacrifice of me. No ; it would only be a sacrifice to
your mad and misguided love of fame, — to that passion
which has been the source of all your miseries, of the
most tragical calamities to others, and of every mis-
fortune that has happened to me. I have no forbear-
ance to exercise towards that passion. If you be not
yet cured of this tremendous and sanguinary folly, at
least I will do nothing to cherish it. I know not
whether from my youth I was destined for a hero ; but
I may thank you for having taught me a lesson of in-
surmountable fortitude.
" What is it that you require of me ? that I should
sign away my own reputation for the better maintain-
ing of yours. Where is the equality of that ? What is
it that casts me at such an immense distance below
you, as to make every thing that relates to me wholly
unworthy of consideration ? You have been educated
in the prejudice of birth. I abhor that prejudice.
You have made me desperate, and I utter what that
desperation suggests.
" You will tell me perhaps that I have no reputa-
tion to lose ; that, while you are esteemed faultless
and unblemished, I am universally reputed a thief, a
suborner, and a calumniator. Be it so. I will never
do any thing to countenance those imputations. The
more I am destitute of the esteem of mankind, the
more careful I will be to preserve my own. I will
never from fear, or any other mistaken motive, do any
thing of which I ought to be ashamed.
" You are determined to be for ever my enemy. I
have in no degree deserved this eternal abhorrence.
I have always esteemed and pitied you. For a con-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 393
siderable time I rather chose to expose myself to every
kind of misfortune, than disclose the secret that was
so dear to you. I was not deterred by your menaces—
(what could you make me suffer more than I actually
suffered ?) — but by die humanity of my own heart ; in
which, and not in means of violence, you ought to
have reposed your confidence. What is the mysterious
vengeance that you can yet execute against me ? You
menaced me before ; you can menace no worse now.
You are wearing out the springs of terror. Do with
me as you please ; you teach me to hear you with an
unshrinking and desperate firmness. Recollect your-
self! I did not proceed to the step with which you
reproach me, till I was apparently urged to the very
last extremity. I had suffered as much as human
nature can suffer ; I had lived in the midst of eternal
alarm and unintermitted watchfulness ; I had twice
been driven to purposes of suicide. I am now sorry
however, that the step of which you complain was
ever adopted. But, urged to exasperation by an unin-
tcrmitted rigour, I had no time to cool or to deliberate*
Even at present I cherish no vengeance against you.
All that is reasonable, all that can really contribute to
your security, I will readily concede ; but I will not
be driven to an act repugnant to all reason, integrity,
and justice/'
Mr. Falkland listened to me with astonishment and
impatience. He had entertained no previous con-
ception of the firmness I displayed. Several times
he was convulsed with the fury that laboured in his
breast. Once and again he betrayed an intention to
interrupt ; but he was restrained by the collectedness
of my manner, and perhaps by a desire to be acquainted
with the entire state of my mind. Finding that I had
concluded, he paused for a moment; his passion
394? CALEB WILLIAMS.
seemed gradually to enlarge, till it was no longer
capable of control.
" It is well ! " said he, gnashing his teeth, and
stamping upon the ground. " You refuse the com-
position I offer ! I have no power to persuade you
to compliance ! You defy me ! At least I have a
power respecting you, and that power I will exercise ;
a power that shall grind you into atoms. I con-
descend to no more expostulation. I know what I am,
and what I can be. I know what you are, and what
fate is reserved for you ! "
Saying this he quitted the room.
Such were the particulars of this memorable scene.
The impression it has left upon my understanding is
indelible. The figure and appearance of Mr. Falk-
land, his death-like weakness and decay, his more
than mortal energy and rage, the words that he
spoke, the motives that animated him, produced one
compounded effect upon my mind that nothing of the
same nature could ever parallel. The idea of his
misery thrilled through my frame. How weak in
comparison of it is the imaginary hell, which the
great enemy of mankind is represented as carrying
every where about with him !
From this consideration, my mind presently turned
to the menaces he had vented against myself. They
were all mysterious and undefined. He had talked of
power, but had given no hint from which I could
collect in what he imagined it to consist. He had
talked of misery, but had not dropped a syllable
respecting the nature of the misery to be inflicted.
I sat still for some time, ruminating on these thoughts.
Neither Mr. Falkland nor any other person appeared
to disturb my meditations. I rose, went out of the
room, and from the inn into the street. No one offered
CALEB WILLIAMS. 395
to molest me. It was strange ! What was the nature
of this power, from which I was to apprehend so
much, yet which seemed to leave me at perfect
liberty? I began to imagine that all I had heard
from this dreadful adversary was mere madness and
extravagance, and that he was at length deprived
of the use of reason, which had long served him only
as a medium of torment. Yet was it likely in that
case that he should be able to employ Gines and
his associate, who had just been his instruments of
violence upon my person ?
I proceeded along the streets with considerable
caution. I looked before me and behind me, as well as
the darkness would allow me to do, that I might not
again be hunted in sight by some men of stratagem and
violence without my perceiving it. I went not, as be-
fore, beyond the limits of the town, but considered the
streets, the houses, and the inhabitants, as affording
some degree of security. I was still walking with my
mind thus full of suspicion and forecast, when I dis-
covered Thomas, that servant of Mr. Falkland whom I
have already more than once had occasion to mention.
He advanced towards me with an air so blunt and di-
rect, as instantly to remove from me the idea of any
thing insidious in his purpose; besides that I had always
felt the character of Thomas, rustic and uncultivated
as it was, to be entitled to a more than common portion
of esteem.
" Thomas," said I, as he advanced, " I hope you are
willing to give me joy, that I am at length delivered
from the dreadful danger which for many months
haunted me so unmercifully."
«« No," rejoined Thomas, roughly ; " I be not at all
willing. I do not know what to make of myself in this
affair. While you were in prison in that miserable
396 CALEB WILLIAMS.
fashion, I felt all at one almost as if I loved you : and
now that that is over, and you are turned out loose in
the world to do your worst, my blood rises at the very
sight of you. To look at you, you are almost that very
lad Williams for whom I could with pleasure, as it were,
have laid down my life ; and yet, behind that smiling
face there lie robbery, and lying, and every thing that
is ungrateful and murderous. Your last action was
worse than all the rest. How could you find in your
heart to revive that cruel story about Mr. Tyrrel, which
every body had agreed, out of regard to the squire,
never to mention again, and of which I know, and you
know, he is as innocent as the child unborn ? There
are causes and reasons, or else I could have wished
from the bottom of my soul never to have set eyes on
you again."
" And you still persist in your hard thoughts of me? "
" Worse ! I think worse of you than ever ! Before,
I thought you as bad as man could be. I wonder
from my soul what you are to do next. But you
make good the old saying, < Needs must go, that the
devil drives.' "
" And so there is never to be an end of my mis-
fortunes! What can Mr. Falkland contrive for me
worse than the ill opinion and enmity of all man-
kind?"
" Mr. Falkland contrive ! He is the best friend
you have in the world, though you are the basest
traitor to him. Poor man ! it makes one's heart ache
to look at him ; he is the very image of grief. And
it is not clear to me that it is not all owing to you.
At least you have given the finishing lift to the mis-
fortune that was already destroying him. There have
been the devil and all to pay between him and squire
Forester. The squire is right raving mad with my
CALEB WILLIAMS. 397
master, for having outwitted him in the matter of the
trial, and saved your life. He swears that you shall
be taken up and tried all over again at the next assizes;
but my master is resolute, and I believe will carry it
his own way. He says indeed that the law will not
allow squire Forester to have his will in this. To see
him ordering every thing for your benefit, and taking
all your maliciousness as mild and innocent as a lamb,
and to think of your vile proceedings against him, is a
sight one shall not see again, go all the world over.
For God's sake, repent of your reprobate doings, and
make what little reparation is in your power ! Think
of your poor soul, before you awake, as to be sure one
of these days you will, in fire and brimstone everlast-
ing!"
Saying this, he held out his hand and took hold of
mine. The action seemed strange; but I at first
thought it the unpremeditated result of his solemn
and well-intended adjuration. I felt however that he
put something into my hand. The next moment he
quitted his hold, and hastened from me with the swift-
ness of an arrow. What he had thus given me was a
bank-note of twenty pounds. I had no doubt that he
had been charged to deliver it to me from Mr. Falk-
land.
What was I to infer ? what light did it throw upon
the intentions of my inexorable persecutor ? his ani-
mosity against me was as great as ever ; that I had
just had confirmed to me from his own mouth. Yet
his animosity appeared to be still tempered with the
remains of humanity. He prescribed to it a line, wide
enough to embrace the gratification of his views, and
within the boundaries of that line it stopped. But
this discovery carried no consolation to my mind. I
knew not what portion of calamity I was fated to
898 CALEB WILLIAMS.
endure, before his jealousy of dishonour, and inor-
dinate thirst of fame would deem themselves satisfied.
Another question offered itself. Was I to receive
the money which had just been put into my hands ?
the money of a man who had inflicted upon me injuries,
less than those which he had entailed upon himself,
but the greatest that one man can inflict upon another?
who had blasted my youth, who had destroyed my
peace, who had held me up to the abhorrence of man-
kind, and rendered me an outcast upon the face of the
earth ? who had forged the basest and most atrocious
falsehoods, and urged them with a seriousness and
perseverance which produced universal belief? who,
an hour before, had vowed against me inexorable
enmity, and sworn to entail upon me misery without
end ? Would not this conduct on my part betray a
base and abject spirit, that crouched under tyranny,
and kissed the hands that were imbrued in my blood ?
If these reasons appeared strong, neither was the
other side without reasons in reply. I wanted the
money : not for any purpose of vice or superfluity, but
for those purposes without which life cannot subsist.
Man ought to be able, wherever placed, to find for
himself the means of existence ; but I was to open a
new scene of life, to remove to some distant spot, to
be prepared against all the ill-will of mankind, and the
unexplored projects of hostility of a most accomplished
foe. The actual means of existence are the property
of all. What should hinder me from taking that of
which I was really in want, when, in taking it, I risked
no vengeance, and perpetrated no violence? The
property in question will be beneficial to me, and the
voluntary surrender of it is accompanied with no
injury to its late proprietor ; what other condition can
be necessary to render the use of it on my part a duty?
CALEB WILLIAMS. 399
He that lately possessed it has injured me ; does that
alter its value as a medium of exchange ? He will
boast perhaps of the imaginary obligation he has con-
ferred on me : surely to shrink from a thing in itself
right from any such apprehension, can be the result
only of pusillanimity and cowardice !
CHAPTER XIII.
INFLUENCED by these reasonings, I determined to re-
tain what had thus been put into my hands. My next
care was in regard to the scene I should choose, as the
retreat of that life which I had just saved from the
grasp of the executioner. The danger to which I was
exposed of forcible interruption in my pursuits, was
probably, in some respects, less now than it had been
previously to this crisis. Besides, that I was consider-
ably influenced in this deliberation by the strong
loathing I conceived for the situations in which I had
lately been engaged. I knew not in what mode Mr.
Falkland intended to exercise his vengeance against
me; but I was seized with so unconquerable an aversion
to disguise, and the idea of spending my life in person-
ating a fictitious character, that I could not, for the
present at least, reconcile my mind to any thing of
that nature. The same kind of disgust I had conceived
for the metropolis, where I had spent so many hours
of artifice, sadness, and terror. I therefore decided in
favour of the project which had formerly proved
amusing to my imagination, of withdrawing to some
distant, rural scene, a scene of calmness and obscurity,
where for a few years at least, perhaps during the life
of Mr. Falkland, I might be hidden from the world,
400 CALEB WILLIAMS.
recover the wounds my mind had received in this fatal
connection, methodise and improve the experience
which had been accumulated, cultivate the faculties I
in any degree possessed, and employ the intervals of
these occupations in simple industry, and the inter-
course of guileless, uneducated, kind-intentioned minds.
The menaces of my persecutor seemed to forebode the
inevitable interruption of this system. But I deemed
it wise to put these menaces out of my consideration.
I compared them to death, which must infallibly over-
take us we know not when ; but the possibility of
whose arrival next year, next week, to-morrow, must
be left out of the calculation of him who would enter
upon any important or well-concerted undertaking.
Such were the ideas that determined my choice.
Thus did my youthful mind delineate the system of
distant years, even when the threats of instant calamity
still sounded in my ears. I was inured to the appre-
hension of mischief, till at last the hoarse roarings of
the beginning tempest had lost their power of annihi-
lating my peace. I however thought it necessary, wh:le
I was most palpably within the sphere of the enemy,
to exert every practicable degree of vigilance. I was
careful not to incur the hazards of darkness and soli-
tude. When I left the town it was with the stage-
coach, an obvious source of protection against glaring
and enormous violence. Meanwhile I found myself no
more exposed to molestation in my progress, than the
man in the world who should have had the least reason
for apprehensions of this nature. As the distance in-
creased, I relaxed something in my precaution, though
still awake to a sense of danger, and constantly pursued
with the image of my foe. I fixed upon an obscure
market-town in Wales as the chosen seat of my ope-
rations. This place recommended itself to my observ-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 401
ation as I was wandering in quest of an abode. It was
clean, cheerful, and of great simplicity of appearance.
It was at a distance from any public and frequented
road, and had nothing which could deserve the name
of trade. The face of nature around it was agreeably
diversified, being partly wild and romantic, and partly
rich and abundant in production.
Here I solicited employment in two professions ; the
first, that of a watchmaker, in which though the in-
structions I had received were few, they were eked
out and assisted by a mind fruitful in mechanical in-
vention; the other, that of an instructor in mathe-
matics and its practical application, geography, astro-
nomy, land-surveying, and navigation. Neither of these
was a very copious source of emolument in the obscure
retreat I had chosen for myself; but, if my receipts
were slender, my disbursements were still fewer. In
this little town I became acquainted with the vicar, the
apothecary, the lawyer, and the rest of the persons
who, time out of mind, had been tegarded as the top
gentry of the place. Each of these centred in himself
a variety of occupations. There was little in the
appearance of the vicar that reminded you of his pro-
fession, except on the recurring Sunday. At other
times he condescended, with his evangelical hand to
guide the plough, or to drive the cows from the field
to the farm-yard for the milking. The apothecary
occasionally officiated as a barber, and the lawyer was
the village schoolmaster.
By all these persons I was received with kindness
and hospitality. Among people thus remote from the
bustle of human life there is an open spirit of con-
fidence, by means of which a stranger easily finds
access to their benevolence and good-will. My man-
ners had never been greatly debauched from the sim-
D D
402 CALEB WILLIAMS.
plicity of rural life by the scenes through which I had
passed ; and the hardships I had endured had given
additional mildness to my character. In the theatre
upon which I was now placed I had no rival. My
mechanical occupation had hitherto been a non-re-
sident ; and the schoolmaster, who did not aspire to the
sublime heights of science I professed to communicate,
was willing to admit me as a partner in the task of
civilising the unpolished manners of the inhabitants.
For the parson, civilisation was no part of his trade ;
his business was with the things of a better life, not
with the carnal concerns of this material scene; -in truth,
his thoughts were principally occupied with his oatmeal
and his cows.
These however were not the only companions which
this remote retirement afforded me. There was a
family of a very different description, of which I gra-
dually became the chosen intimate. The father was a
shrewd, sensible, rational man, but who had turned his
principal attention to subjects of agriculture. His wife
was a truly admirable and extraordinary woman. She
was the daughter of a Neapolitan nobleman, who, after
having visited, and made a considerable figure, in every
country in Europe, had at length received the blow of
fate in this village. He had been banished his country
upon suspicion of religious and political heresy, and
his estates confiscated. With this only child, like
Prospero in the Tempest, he had withdrawn himself to
one of the most obscure and uncultivated regions of the
world. Very soon however after his arrival in Wales
he had been seized with a malignant fever, which car-
ried him off in three days. He died possessed of no
other property than a few jewels, and a bill of credit,
to no considerable amount, upon an English banker.
Here then was the infant Laura, left in a foreign
CALEB WILLIAMS. 403
country, and without a single friend. The father of
her present husband was led by motives of pure hu-
manity to seek to mitigate the misfortunes of the dying
Italian. Though a plain uninstructed man, with no
extraordinary refinement of intellect, there was some-
thing in his countenance that determined the stranger
in his present forlorn and melancholy situation, to make
him his executor, and the guardian of his daughter
The Neapolitan understood enough of English to ex-
plain his wishes to this friendly attendant of his death-
bed. As his circumstances were narrow, the servants
of the stranger, two Italians, a male and a female, were
sent back to their own country soon after the death of
their master.
Laura was at this time eight years of age. At these
tender years she had been susceptible of little direct
instruction ; and, as she grew up, even the memory of
her father became, from year to year, more vague and
indistinct in her mind. But there was something she
derived from her father, whether along with the life
he bestowed, or as the consequence of his instruction
and manners, which no time could efface. Every added
year of her life contributed to develop the fund of her
accomplishments. She read, she observed, she re-
flected. Without instructors, she taught herself to
draw, to sing, and to understand the more polite Eu-
ropean languages. As she had no society in this remote
situation but that of peasants, she had no idea of
honour or superiority to be derived from her acquisi-
tions ; but pursued them from a secret taste, and as the
sources of personal enjoyment.
A mutual attachment gradually arose between her
and the only son of her guardian. His father led him,
from early youth, to the labours and the sports of the
field, and there was little congeniality between his pur-
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404 CALEB WILLIAMS.
suits and those of Laura. But this was a defect that
she was slow to discover. She had never been accus-
tomed to society in her chosen amusements, and habit
at that time even made her conceive, that they were
indebted to solitude for an additional relish. The
youthful rustic had great integrity, great kindness of
heart, and was a lad of excellent sense. He was florid,
well-proportioned, and the goodness of his disposition
made his manners amiable. Accomplishments greater
than these she had never seen in human form, since
the death of her father. In fact, she is scarcely to be
considered as a sufferer in this instance ; since, in her
forlorn and destitute condition, it is little probable,
when we consider the habits and notions that now pre-
vail, that her accomplishments, unassisted by fortune,
would have procured her an equal alliance in marriage.
When she became a mother her heart opened to a
new affection. The idea now presented itself, which
had never occurred before, that in her children at least
she might find the partners and companions of her
favourite employments. She was, at the time of my
arrival, mother of four, the eldest of which was a son.
To all of them she had been a most assiduous instructor.
It was well for her perhaps that she obtained this
sphere for the exercise of her mind. It came just at
the period when the charm which human life derives
from novelty is beginning to wear off. It gave her
new activity and animation. It is perhaps impossible
that the refinements of which human nature is capable
should not, after a time, subside into sluggishness, if
they be not aided by the influence of society and
affection.
The son of the Welch farmer by this admirable
woman was about seventeen years of age at the time
of my settlement in their neighbourhood. His eldest
CALEB WILLIAMS. 4-05
sister was one year younger than himself. The whole
family composed a group, with which a lover of tran-
quillity and virtue would have delighted to associate in
any situation. It is easy therefore to conceive how
much I rejoiced in their friendship, in this distant re-
tirement, and suffering, as I felt myself, from the
maltreatment and desertion of my species. The amiable
Laura had a wonderful quickness of eye, and rapidity
of apprehension ; but this feature in her countenance
was subdued by a sweetness of disposition, such as I
never in any other instance saw expressed in the
looks of a human being. She soon distinguished me
by her kindness and friendship ; for, living as she had
done, though familiar with the written productions of a
cultivated intellect, she had never seen the thing itself
realised in a living being, except in the person of her
father. She delighted to converse with me upon sub-
jects of literature and taste, and she eagerly invited my
assistance in the education of her children. The son,
though young, had been so happily improved and in-
structed by his mother, that I found in him nearly all
the most essential qualities we require in a friend.
Engagement and inclination equally led me to pass a
considerable part of every day in this agreeable society.
Laura treated me as if I had been one of the family ;
and I sometimes flattered myself that I might one day
become such in reality. What an enviable resting-
place for me, who had known nothing but calamity, and
had scarcely dared to look for sympathy and kindness
in the countenance of a human being !
The sentiments of friendship which early disclosed
themselves between me and the members of this amiable
family daily became stronger. At every interview,
the confidence reposed in me by the mother increased.
While our familiarity gained in duration, it equally
D D 3
406 CALEB WILLIAMS.
gained in that subtlety of communication by which it
seemed to shoot forth its roots in every direction. There
are a thousand little evanescent touches in the develop-
ment of a growing friendship, that are neither thought
of, nor would be understood, between common acquaint-
ances. I honoured and esteemed the respectable Laura
like a mother ; for, though the difference of our ages
was by no means sufficient to authorise the sentiment,
it was irresistibly suggested to me by the fact of her
always being presented to my observation under the
maternal character. Her son was a lad of great under-
standing, generosity, and feeling, and of no contemptible
acquirements ; while his tender years, and the uncom-
mon excellence of his mother, subtracted something
from the independence of his judgment, and impressed
him with a sort of religious deference for her will. In
the eldest daughter I beheld the image of Laura ; for
that I felt attached to her for the present ; and I some-
times conceived it probable that hereafter I might learn
to love her for her own sake. — Alas, it was thus that
I amused myself with the visions of distant years, while
I stood in reality on the brink of the precipice !
It will perhaps be thought strange that I never once
communicated the particulars of my story to this amiable
matron, or to my young friend, for such I may also
venture to call him, her son. But in truth I abhorred
the memory of this story; I placed all my hopes of
happiness in the prospect of its being consigned to
oblivion. I fondly flattered myself that such would be
the event : in the midst of my unlooked-for happiness,
I scarcely recollected, or, recollecting, was disposed to
yield but a small degree of credit to, the menaces of
Mr. Falkland.
One day, that I was sitting alone with the accom-
plished Laura, she repeated his all-dreadful name. I
CALEB WILLIAMS. 407
started with astonishment, amazed that a woman like
this, who knew nobody, who lived as it were alone in a
corner of the universe, who had never in a single
instance entered into any fashionable circle, this ad-
mirable and fascinating hermit, should, by some unac-
countable accident, have become acquainted with this
fatal and tremendous name. Astonishment however
was not my only sensation. I became pale with terror ;
I rose from my seat ; I attempted to sit down again ; I
reeled out of the room, and hastened to bury myself in
solitude. The unexpectedness of the incident took
from me all precaution, and overwhelmed my faculties.
The penetrating Laura observed my behaviour ; but
nothing further occurred to excite her attention to it at
that time ; and, concluding from my manner that enquiry
would be painful to me, she humanely suppressed her
curiosity.
I afterwards found that Mr. Falkland had been
known to the father of Laura ; that he had been ac-
quainted with the story of Count Malvesi, and with a
number of other transactions redounding in the highest
degree to the credit of the gallant Englishman. The
Neapolitan had left letters in which these transactions
were recorded, and which spoke of Mr. Falkland in the
highest terms of panegyric. Laura had been used to
regard every little relic of her father with a sort of
religious veneration ; and, by this accident, the name
of Mr. Falkland was connected in her mind with the
sentiments of unbounded esteem.
The scene by which I was surrounded was perhaps
more grateful to me, than it would have been to most
other persons with my degree of intellectual cultiva-
tion.. Sore with persecution and distress, and bleeding
at almost every vein, there was nothing I so much
coveted as rest and tranquillity. It seemed as if my
D D 4?
408 CALEB WILLIAMS.
faculties were, at least for the time, exhausted by the
late preternatural intensity of their exertions, and that
they stood indispensably in need of a period of compa-
rative suspension.
This was however but a temporary feeling. My
mind had always been active, and I was probably in-
debted to the sufferings I had endured, and the exqui-
site and increased susceptibility they produced, for
new energies. I soon felt the desire of some additional
and vigorous pursuit. In this state of mind, I met by
accident, in a neglected corner of the house of one of
my neighbours, with a general dictionary of four of
the northern languages. This incident gave a direction
to my thoughts. In my youth I had not been inatten-
tive to languages. I determined to attempt, at least
for my own use, an etymological analysis of the English
language. I easily perceived, that this pursuit had one
advantage to a person in my situation, and that a small
number of books, consulted with this view, would afford
employment for a considerable time. I procured other
dictionaries. In my incidental reading, I noted the
manner in which words were used, and applied these
remarks to the illustration of my general enquiry. I
was unintermitted in my assiduity, and my collections
promised to accumulate. Thus I was provided with
sources both of industry and recreation, the more com-
pletely to divert my thoughts from the recollection of
my past misfortunes.
In this state, so grateful to my feelings, week after
week glided away without interruption and alarm.
The situation in which I was now placed had some
resemblance to that in which I had spent my earlier
years, with the advantage of a more attractive society,
and a riper judgment. I began to look back upon the
intervening period as upon a distempered and tor-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 4O9
mcnting dream ; or rather perhaps my feelings were
like those of a man recovered from an interval of
raging delirium, from ideas of horror, confusion, flight,
persecution, agony, and despair I When I recollected
what I had undergone, it was not without satisfaction,
as the recollection of a thing that was past ; every day
augmented my hope that it was never to return. Surely
the dark and terrific menaces of Mr. Falkland were
rather the perturbed suggestions of his angry mind,
than the final result of a deliberate and digested
system I How happy should I feel, beyond the ordi-
nary lot of man, if, after the terrors I had undergone,
I should now find myself unexpectedly restored to the
immunities of a human being !
While I was thus soothing my mind with fond ima-
ginations, it happened that a few bricklayers and their
labourers came over from a distance "of five or six
miles, to work upon some additions to one of the better
sort of houses in the town, which had changed its
tenant. No incident could be more trivial than this,
had it not been for a strange coincidence of time be-
tween this circumstance, and a change which intro-
duced itself into my situation. This first manifested
itself in a sort of shyness with which I was treated,
first by one person, and then another, of my new-formed
acquaintance. They were backward to enter into
conversation with me, and answered my enquiries with
an awkward and embarrassed air. W'hen they met
me in the street or the field, their countenances con-
tracted a cloud, and they endeavoured to shun me.
My scholars quitted me one after another ; and I had
no longer any employment in my mechanical profes-
sion. It is impossible to describe the sensations, which
the gradual but uninterrupted progress of this revo-
lution produced in my mind. It seemed as if I had
410 CALEB WILLIAMS.
some contagious disease, from which every man shrunk
with alarm, and left me to perish unassisted and alone.
I asked one man and another to explain to me the
meaning of these appearances ; but every one avoided
the task, and answered in an evasive and ambiguous
manner. I sometimes supposed that it was all a de-
lusion of the imagination ; till the repetition of the
sensation brought the reality too painfully home to my
apprehension. There are few things that give a greater
shock to the mind, than a phenomenon in the conduct
of our fellow men, of great importance to our concerns,
and for which we are unable to assign any plausible
reason. At times I was half inclined to believe that
the change was not in other men, but that some alien-
ation of my own understanding generated the horrid
vision. I endeavoured to awaken from my dream, and
return to my fifrmer state of enjoyment and happiness ;
but in vain. To the same consideration it may be
ascribed, that, unacquainted with the source of the
evil, observing its perpetual increase, and finding it, so
far as I could perceive, entirely arbitrary in its nature,
I was unable to ascertain its limits, or the degree in
which it would finally overwhelm me. .
In the midst however of the wonderful and seemingly
inexplicable nature of this scene, there was one idea
that instantly obtruded itself, and that I could never
after banish from my mind. It is Falkland ! In vain
I struggled against the seeming improbability of the
supposition. In vain I said, " Mr. Falkland, wise as
he is, and pregnant in resources, acts by human, not by
supernatural means. He may overtake me by sur-
prise, and in a manner of which I had no previous
expectation ; but he cannot produce a great and no-
torious effect without some visible agency, however
difficult it may be to trace that agency to its absolute
CALEB WILLIAMS.
author. He cannot, like those invisible personages who
are supposed from time to time to interfere in human
affairs, ride in the whirlwind, shroud himself in clouds
and impenetrable darkness, and scatter destruction
upon the earth from his secret habitation." Thus it
was that I bribed my imagination, and endeavoured to
persuade myself that my present unhappiness origin-
ated in a different source from my former. All evils ap-
peared trivial to me, in comparison with the recollection
and perpetuation of my parent misfortune. I felt like
a man distracted, by the incoherence of my ideas to
my present situation, excluding from it the machina-
tions of Mr. Falkland, on the one hand ; and on the
other, by the horror I conceived at the bare possibility
of again encountering his animosity, after a suspension
of many weeks, a suspension as I had hoped for ever.
An interval like this was an age to a person in the
calamitous situation I had so long experienced. But,
in spite of my efforts, I could not banish from my mind
the dreadful idea. My original conceptions of the
genius and perseverance of Mr. Falkland had been
such, that I could with difficulty think any thing im-
possible to him. I knew not how to set up my own
opinions of material causes and the powers of the human
mind, as the limits of existence. Mr. Falkland had
always been to my imagination an object of wonder,
and that which excites our wonder we scarcely suppose
ourselves competent to analyse.
It may well be conceived, that one of the first persons
to whom I thought of applying for an explanation of
this dreadful mystery was the accomplished Laura.
My disappointment here cut me to the heart. I was
not prepared for it. I recollected the ingenuousness of
her nature, the frankness of her manners, the partiality
with which she had honoured me. If I were mortified
412 CALEB WILLIAMS.
with the coldness, the ruggedness, and the cruel mis-
take of principles with which the village inhabitants
repelled my enquiries, the mortification I suffered, only
drove me more impetuously to seek the cure of my
griefs from this object of my admiration. " In Laura,"
said I, " I am secure from these vulgar prejudices. I
confide in her justice. I am sure she will not cast me
off unheard, nor without strictly examining a question
on all sides, in which every thing that is valuable to a
person she once esteemed, may be involved."
Thus encouraging myself, I turned my steps to the
place of her residence. As I passed along I called up
all my recollection, I summoned my faculties. " I may
be made miserable," said I, " but it shall not be for want
of any exertion of mine, that promises to lead to happi-
ness. I will be clear, collected, simple in narrative,
ingenuous in communication. I will leave nothing un-
said that the case may require. I will not volunteer
any thing that relates to my former transactions with
Mr. Falkland ; but, if I find that my present calamity
is connected with those transactions, I will not fear but
that by an honest explanation I shall remove it."
I knocked at the door. A servant appeared, and told
me that her mistress hoped I would excuse her ; she
must really beg to dispense with my visit.
I was thunderstruck. I was rooted to the spot. I
had been carefully preparing my mind for every thing
that I supposed likely to happen, but this event had not
entered into my calculations. I roused myself in a
partial degree, and% walked away without uttering a
word.
I had not gone far before I perceived one of the
workmen following me, who put into my hands a billet.
The contents were these: —
CALEB WILLIAMS. 4-13
" MR. WILLIAMS,
" Let me see you no more. I have a right at least
to expect your compliance with this requisition ; and,
upon that condition, I pardon the enormous impropri-
ety and guilt with which you have conducted yourself
to me and my family.
" LAURA DENISON."
The sensations with which I read these few lines
are indescribable. I found in them a dreadful con-
firmation of the calamity that on all sides invaded me.
But what I felt most was the unmoved coldness with
which they appeared to be written. This coldness
from Laura, my comforter, my friend, my mother 1 To
dismiss, to cast me off for ever, without one thought of
compunction !
I determined however, in spite of her requisition,
and in spite of her coldness, to have an explanation
with her. I did not despair of conquering the antipa-
thy she harboured. I did not fear that I would rouse
her from the vulgar and unworthy conception, of con-
demning a man, in points the most material to his hap-
piness, without stating the accusations that are urged
against him, and without hearing him in reply.
Though I had no doubt, by means of resolution, of
gaining access to her in her house, yet I preferred
taking her unprepared, and not warmed against me by
any previous contention. Accordingly, the next morn-
ing, at the time she usually devoted to half an hour's
air and exercise, I hastened to her garden, leaped the
paling, and concealed myself in an" arbour. Presently
I saw, from my retreat, the younger part of the family
strolling through the garden, and from thence into the
fields ; but it was not my business to be seen by them.
I looked after them however with earnestness, unob-
414? CALEB WILLIAMS.
served ; and I could not help asking myself, with a deep
and heartfelt sigh, whether it were possible that I saw
them now for the last time ?
They had not advanced far into the fields, before
their mother made her appearance. I observed in her
her usual serenity and sweetness of countenance. I
could feel my heart knocking against my ribs. My
whole frame was in a tumult. I stole out of the
arbour ; and, as I advanced nearer, my pace became
quickened.
" For God's sake, madam," exclaimed I, " give me a
hearing ! Do not avoid me I "
She stood still. " No, sir," she replied, " I shall not
avoid you. I wished you to dispense with this meeting;
but since I cannot obtain that — I am conscious of no
wrong ; and therefore, though the meeting gives me
pain, it inspires me with no fear."
" Oh, madam," answered I, " my friend ! the object
of all my reverence ! whom I once ventured to call my
mother I can you wish not to hear me ? Can you have
no anxiety for my justification, whatever may be the
unfavourable impression you may have received against
me?"
" Not an atom. I have neither wish nor inclination
to hear you. That tale which, in its plain and un-
adorned state, is destructive of the character of him
to whom it relates, no colouring can make an honest
one."
" Good God ! Can you think of condemning a man
when you have heard only one side of his story?"
" Indeed I can," replied she with dignity. " The
maxim of hearing both sides may be very well in
some cases ; but it would be ridiculous to suppose that
there are not cases, that, at the first mention, are too
clear to admit the shadow of a doubt. By a well-con*
CALEB WILLIAMS. 415
certed defence you may give me new reasons to admire
your abilities; but I am acquainted with them already.
I can admire your abilities, without tolerating your
character."
" Madam! Amiable, exemplary Laura ! whom, in the
midst of all your harshness and inflexibility, I honour !
I conjure you, by every thing that is sacred, to tell me
what it is that has filled you with this sudden aversion
to me."
** No, sir ; that you shall never obtain from me. I
have nothing to say to you. I stand still and hear you ;
because virtue disdains to appear abashed and con-
founded in the presence of vice. Your conduct even at
this moment, in my opinion, condemns you. True virtue
refuses the drudgery of explanation and apology. True
virtue shines by its own light, and needs no art to set
it off. You have the first principles of morality as yet
to learn."
" And can you imagine, that the most upright con-
duct is always superior to the danger of ambiguity?"
" Exactly so. Virtue, sir, consists in actions, and
not in words. The good man and the bad are cha-
racters precisely opposite, not characters distinguished
from each other by imperceptible shades. The Provi-
dence that rules us all, has not permitted us to be left
without a clew in the most important of all questions.
Eloquence may seek to confound it ; but it shall be my
care to avoid its deceptive influence. I do not wish to
have my understanding perverted, and all the differ-
ences of things concealed from my apprehension."
«« Madam, madam ! it would be impossible for you
to hold this language, if you had not always lived in
this obscure retreat, if you had ever been conversant
with the passions and institutions of men."
« It may be so. And, if that be the case, I have
416 CALEB WILLIAMS.
great reason to be thankful to my God, who has thus
enabled me to preserve the innocence of my heart,
and the integrity of my understanding."
" Can you believe then that ignorance is the only,
or the safest, preservative of integrity?"
" Sir, I told you at first, and I repeat to you again,
that all your declamation is in vain. I wish you would
have saved me and yourself that pain which is the only
thing that can possibly result from it. But let us sup-
pose that virtue could ever be the equivocal thing you
would have me believe. Is it possible, if you had
been honest, that you would not have acquainted
me with your story ? Is it possible, that you would
have left me to have been informed of it by a mere
accident, and with all the shocking aggravations you
well knew that accident would give it ? Is it possible
you should have violated the most sacred of all trusts,
and have led me unknowingly to admit to the inter-
course of my children a character, which if, as you
pretend, it is substantially honest, you cannot deny to
be blasted and branded in the face of the whole world?
Go, sir ; I despise you. You are a monster -md not a
man. I cannot tell whether my personal situation
misleads me; but, to my thinking, this last action of
yours is worse than all the rest. Nature has constituted
me the protector of my children. I shall always re-
member and resent the indelible injury you have done
them. You have wounded me to the very heart, and
have taught me to what a pitch the villainy of man can
extend."
" Madam, I can be silent no longer. I see that you
have by some means come to a hearing of the story of
Mr. Falkland."
" I have. I am astonished you have the effrontery
to pronounce his name. That name has been a deno-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 417
miii;it ion. as far back as my memory can reach, for the
most exalted of mortals, the wisest and most generous
of men."
« Madam, I owe it to myself to set you right on this
subject. Mr. Falkland "
" Mr. Williams, I see my children returning from
the fields, and coming this way. The basest action
you ever did was the obtruding yourself upon them as
an instructor. I insist that you see them no more. I
command you to be silent. I command you to with-
draw. If you persist in your absurd resolution of ex-
postulating with me, you must take some other time."
I could continue no longer. I was in a manner
heart-broken through the whole of this dialogue. I
could not think of protracting the pain of this ad-
mirable woman, upon whom, though I was innocent of
the crimes she imputed to me, I had inflicted so much
pain already. I yielded to the imperiousness of her
commands, and withdrew.
I hastened, without knowing why, from the presence
of Laura to my own habitation. Upon entering the
house, an apartment of which I occupied, I found it
totally deserted of its usual inhabitants. The woman
and her children were gone to enjoy the freshness of
the breeze. The husband was engaged in his usual
out-door occupations. The doors of persons of the
lower order in this part of the country are secured, in
the day-time, only with a latch. I entered, and went
into the kitchen of the family. Here, as I looked
round, my eyes accidentally glanced upon a paper
Jying in one corner, which, by some association I was
unable to explain, roused in me a strong sensation of
suspicion and curiosity. I eagerly went towards it,
caught it up, and found it to be the very paper of the
WONDERFUL AND SURPRISING HISTORY OF CALEB
E E
418 CALEB WILLIAMS.
WILLIAMS, the discovery of which, towards the close
of my residence in London, had produced in me such
inexpressible anguish.
This encounter at once cleared up all the mystery
that hung upon my late transactions. Abhorred and
intolerable certainty succeeded to the doubts which had
haunted my mind. It struck me with the rapidity of
lightning. I felt a sudden torpor and sickness that
pervaded every fibre of my frame.
Was there no hope that remained for me ? Was
acquittal useless ? Was there no period, past or in
prospect, that could give relief to my sufferings ? Was
the odious and atrocious falsehood that had been in-
vented against me, to follow me wherever I went, to
strip me of character, to deprive me of the sympathy
and good-will of mankind, to wrest from me the very
bread by which life must be sustained ?
For the space perhaps of half an hour the agony I
felt from this termination to my tranquillity, and the
expectation it excited of the enmity which would
follow me through every retreat, was such as to be-
reave me of all consistent thinking, much more of the
power of coming to any resolution. As soon as this
giddiness and horror of the mind subsided, and the
deadly calm that invaded my faculties was no more,
one stiff and master gale gained the ascendancy, and
drove me to an instant desertion of this late cherished
retreat. I had no patience to enter into further re-
monstrance and explanation with the inhabitants of my
present residence. I believed that it was in vain to
hope to recover the favourable prepossession and tran-
quillity I had lately enjoyed. In encountering the
prejudices that were thus armed against me, I should
have to deal with a variety of dispositions, and, though
I might succeed with some, I could not expect to sue-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 419
ceed with all. I had seen too much of the reign of
triumphant falsehood, to have that sanguine confidence
in the effects of my innocence, which would have sug-
gested itself to the mind of any other person of my
propensities and my age. The recent instance which
had occurred in my conversation with Laura might
well contribute to discourage me. I could not endure
the thought of opposing the venom that was thus
scattered against me, in detail and through its minuter
particles. If ever it should be necessary to encounter
it. if I were pursued like a wild beast, till I could no
longer avoid turning upon my hunters, I would then
turn upon the true author of this unprincipled attack ;
I would encounter the calumny in its strong hold ; I
would rouse myself to an exertion hitherto unessayed ;
and, by the firmness, intrepidity, and unalterable con-
stancy I should display, would yet compel mankind to
believe Mr. Falkland a suborner and a murderer !
CHAPTER XIV.
I HASTEN to the conclusion of my melancholy story. I
began to write soon after the period to which I have
now conducted it. This was another resource that my
mind, ever eager in inventing means to escape from
my misery, suggested. In my haste to withdraw my-
self from the retreat in Wales, where first the certainty
of Mr. Falkland's menaces was confirmed to me, I left
behind me the apparatus of my etymological enquiries,
and the papers I had written upon the subject. I have
never been able to persuade myself to resume this pur-
suit. It is always discouraging, to begin over again a
1*2
420 CALEB WILLIAMS.
laborious task, and exert one's self to recover a position
we had already occupied. I knew not how soon or
how abruptly I might be driven from any new situation ;
the appendages of the study in which I had engaged
were too cumbrous for this state of dependence and
uncertainty; they only served to give new sharpness
to the enmity of my foe, and new poignancy to my
hourly-renewing distress.
But what was of greatest importance, and made the
deepest impression upon my mind, was my separation
from the family of Laura. Fool that I was, to imagine
that there was any room for me in the abodes of friend-
ship and tranquillity ! It was now first, that I felt, with
the most intolerable acuteness, how completely I was
cut off from the whole human species. Other con-
nections I had gained, comparatively without interest ;
and I saw them dissolved without the consummation of
agony. I had never experienced the purest refine-
ments of friendship, but in two instances, that of
Collins, and this of the family of Laura. Solitude,
separation, banishment! These are words often in the
mouths of human beings ; but few men except myself
have felt the full latitude of their meaning. The pride of
philosophy has taught us to treat man as an individual.
He is no such thing. He holds necessarily, indis-
pensably, to his species. He is like those twin-births,
that have two heads indeed, and four hands ; but, if you
attempt to detach them from each other, they are
inevitably subjected to miserable and lingering de-
struction.
It was this circumstance, more than all the rest,
that gradually gorged my heart with abhorrence of Mr.
Falkland. I could not think of his name but with a
sickness and a loathing, that seemed more than human.
It was by his means that I suffered the loss of one
CALEB WILLIAMS. 421
consolation after another, of every thing that was hap-
piness, or that had the resemblance of happiness.
The writing of these memoirs served me as a source
of avocation for several years. For some time I had a
melancholy satisfaction in it. I was better pleased to
retrace the particulars of calamities that had formerly
afflicted me, than to look forward, as at other times I
was too apt to do, to those by which I might hereafter
be overtaken. I conceived that my story, faithfully
digested, would carry in it an impression of truth that
few men would be able to resist ; or, at worst, that, by
leaving it behind me when I should no longer continue
to exist, posterity might be induced to do me justice,
and, seeing in my example what sort of evils are entailed
upon mankind by society as it is at present constituted,
might be inclined to turn their attention upon the
fountain from which such bitter waters have been
accustomed to flow. But these motives have diminished
in their influence. I have contracted a disgust for life
and all its appendages. Writing, which was at first a
pleasure, is changed into a burthen. I shall compress
into a small compass what remains to be told.
I discovered, not long after the period of which I am
speaking, the precise cause of the reverse I had ex-
perienced in my residence in Wales, and, included in
that cause, what it was I had to look for in my future
adventures. Mr. Falkland had taken the infernal Gines
into his pay, a man critically qualified for the service
in which he was now engaged, by the unfeeling brutal-
ity of his temper, by his habits of mind at once auda-
cious and artful, and by the peculiar animosity and"
vengeance he had conceived against me. The employ-
ment to which this man was hired, was that of follow-
ing me from place to place, blasting my reputation,
and preventing me from the chance, by continuing long
£ £ 3
422 CALEB WILLIAMS.
in one residence, of acquiring a character for integrity,
that should give new weight to any accusation I might
at a future time be induced to prefer. He had come
to the seat of my residence with the bricklayers and
labourers I have mentioned ; and, while he took care
to keep out of sight so far as related to me, was indus-
trious in disseminating that which, in the eye of the
world, seemed to amount to a demonstration of the pro-
fligacy and detestableness of my character. It was no
doubt from him that the detested scroll had been pro-
cured, which I had found in my habitation immediately
prior to my quitting it. In all this Mr. Falkland,
reasoning upon his principles, was only employing a
necessary precaution. There was something in the
temper of his mind, that impressed him with aversion
to the idea of violently putting an end to my existence ;
at the same time that unfortunately he could never
deem himself sufficiently secured against my recrimi-
nation, so long as I remained alive. As to the fact of
Gines being retained by him for this tremendous pur-
pose, he by no means desired that it should become
generally known; but neither did he look upon the
possibility of its being known with terror. It was
already too notorious for his wishes, that I had ad-
vanced the most odious charges against him. If he
regarded me with abhorrence as the adversary of his
fame, those persons who had had occasion to be in any
degree acquainted with our history, did not entertain
less abhorrence against me for my own sake. If they
should at any time know the pains he exerted in causing
my evil reputation to follow me, they would consider
it as an act of impartial justice, perhaps as a generous
anxiety to prevent other men from being imposed upon
and injured, as he had been.
What expedient was I to employ for the purpose of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 423
counteracting the meditated and barbarous prudence,
>v Inch was thus destined, in all changes of scene, to
deprive me of the benefits and consolations of human
society ? There was one expedient against which I was
absolutely determined — disguise. I had experienced
so many mortifications, and such intolerable restraint,
when I formerly had recourse to it ; it was associated in
my memory with sensations of such acute anguish,
that my mind was thus far entirely convinced : life was
not worth purchasing at so high a price ! But, though
in this respect I was wholly resolved, there was another
point that did not appear so material, and in which
therefore I was willing to accommodate myself to cir-
cumstances. I was contented, if that would insure my
peace, to submit to the otherwise unmanly expedient
of passing by a different name.
But the change of my name, the abruptness with
which I removed from place to place, the remoteness
and the obscurity which I proposed to myself in the
choice of my abode, were all insufficient to elude the
sagacity of Gines, or the unrelenting constancy with
which Mr. Falkland incited my tormentor to pursue
me. Whithersoever I removed myself, it was not long
before I had occasion to perceive this detested adversary
in my rear. No words can enable me to do justice to
the sensations which this circumstance produced in me.
It waa like what has been described of the eye of Om-
niscience, pursuing the guilty sinner, and darting a ray
that awakens him to new sensibility, at the very
moment that, otherwise, exhausted nature would lull
him into a temporary oblivion of the reproaches of his
conscience. Sleep fled from my eyes. No walls could
hide me from the discernment of this hated foe. Every
where his industry was unwearied to create for me new
distress. Rest I had none ; relief I had none : never
EE 4*
424? CALEB WILLIAMS.
could I count upon an instant's security ; never could I
wrap myself in the shroud of oblivion. The minutes in
which I did not actually perceive him, were con-
taminated and blasted with the certain expectation of
his speedy interference. In my first retreat I had
passed a few weeks of delusive tranquillity, but never
after was I happy enough to attain to so much as that
shadowy gratification. I spent some years in this dread-
ful vicissitude of pain. My sensations at certain periods
amounted to insanity.
I pursued in every succeeding instance the conduct
I had adopted at first. I determined never to enter
into a contest of accusation and defence with the exe-
crable Gines. If I could have submitted to it in other
respects, what purpose would it answer? I should
have but an imperfect and mutilated story to tell. This
story had succeeded with persons already prepossessed
in my favour by personal intercourse ; but could it
succeed with strangers ? It had succeeded so long as
I was able to hide myself from my pursuers ; but could
it succeed now, that this appeared impracticable, and
that they proceeded by arming against me a whole
vicinity at once ?
It is inconceivable the mischiefs that this kind of
existence included. Why should I insist upon such
aggravations as hunger, beggary, and external wretch-
edness? These were an inevitable consequence. It
was by the desertion of mankind that, in each successive
instance, I was made acquainted with my fate. Delay
in such a moment served but to increase the evil ; and
when I fled, meagreness and penury were the ordinary
attendants of my course. But this was a small con-
sideration. Indignation at one time, and unconquerable
perseverance at another, sustained me, where humanity,
left to itself, would probably have sunk.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 4-25
It has already appeared that I was not of a temper
to endure calamity, without endeavouring, by every
means I could devise, to elude and disarm it. Recol-
lecting at I was habituated to do, the various projects
by which my situation could be meliorated, the question
occurred to me, " Why should I be harassed by the
pursuits of this Gines ? Why, man to man, may I not,
by the powers of my mind, attain the ascendancy over
him ? At present he appears to be the persecutor, and
I the persecuted: is not this difference the mere
creature of the imagination ? May I not employ my
ingenuity to vex him with difficulties, and laugh at the
endless labour to which he will be condemned?"
Alas, this is a speculation for a mind at ease ! It is
not the persecution, but the catastrophe which is
annexed to it, that makes the difference between the
tyrant and the sufferer ! In mere corporal exertion
the hunter perhaps is upon a level with the miserable
animal he pursues ! But could it be forgotten by either
of us, that at every stage Gines was to gratify his
malignant passions, by disseminating charges of the
most infamous nature, and exciting against me the
abhorrence of every honest bosom, while I was to sus-
tain the still-repeated annihilation of my peace, my
character, and my bread? Could I, by any refinement
of reason, convert this dreadful series into sport ? I had
no philosophy that qualified me for so extraordinary an
effort. If, under other circumstances, I could even
have entertained so strange an imagination, I was re-
strained in the present instance by the necessity of
providing for myself the means of subsistence, and the
fetters which, through that necessity, the forms of
human society imposed upon my exertions.
In one of those changes of residence, to which my
miserable fate repeatedly compelled me, I met, upon a
426 CALEB WILLIAMS.
road which I was obliged to traverse, the friend of my
youth, my earliest and best beloved friend, the vene-
rable Collins. It was one of those misfortunes which
served to accumulate my distress, that this man had
quitted the island of Great Britain only a very few
weeks before that fatal reverse of fortune which had
ever since pursued me with unrelenting eagerness. Mr.
Falkland, in addition to the large estate he possessed in
England, had a very valuable plantation in the West
Indies. This property had been greatly mismanaged
by the person who had the direction of it on the spot ;
and, after various promises and evasions on his part,
which, however they might serve to beguile the patience
of Mr. Falkland, had been attended with no salutary
fruits, it was resolved that Mr. Collins should go over
in person, to rectify the abuses which had so long pre-
vailed. There had even been some idea of his residing
several years, if not settling finally, upon the plantation.
From that hour to the present I had never received the
smallest intelligence respecting him.
I had always considered the circumstance of his cri-
tical absence as one of my severest misfortunes. Mr.
Collins had been one of the first persons, even in the
period of my infancy, to conceive hopes of me, as of
something above the common standard ; and had con-
tributed more than any other to encourage and assist
my juvenile studies. He had been the executor of the
little property of my father, who had fixed upon him
for that purpose in consideration of the mutual affection
that existed between us ; and I seemed, on every ac-
count, to have more claim upon his protection than
upon that of any other human being. I had always
believed that, had he been present in the crisis of my
fortune, he would have felt a conviction of my innocence ;
and, convinced himself, would, by means of the vener-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 427
ableness and energy of his character, have interposed
so effectually, as to have saved me the greater part of
my subsequent misfortunes.
There was yet another idea in my mind relative to
this subject, which had more weight with me, than
even the substantial exertions of friendship I should
have expected from him. The greatest aggravation of
my present lot was, that I was cut off from the friend-
ship of mankind. I can safely affirm, that poverty and
hunger, that endless wanderings, that a blasted cha-
racter and the curses that clung to my name, were all
of them slight misfortunes compared to this. I en-
deavoured to sustain myself by the sense of my in-
tegrity, but the voice of no man upon earth echoed to
the voice of my conscience. " I called aloud ; but there
was none to answer; there was none that regarded."
To me the whole world was unhearing as the tempest,
and as cold as the torpedo. Sympathy, the magnetic
virtue, the hidden essence of our life, was extinct. Nor
was this the sum of my misery. This food, so essential
to an intelligent existence, seemed perpetually renew-
ing before me in its fairest colours, only tin- more
effectually to elude my grasp, and to mock my hunger.
From time to time I was prompted to unfold the affec-
tions of my soul, only to be repelled with the greater
anguish, and to be baffled in a way the most intolerably
mortifying.
No sight therefore could give me a purer delight
than that which now presented itself to my eyes. It
was some time however, before either of us recognised
the person of the other. Ten years had elapsed since
our last interview. Mr. Collins looked much older than
he had done at that period ; in addition to which, he
was, in his present appearance, pale, sickly, and thin.
These unfavourable effects had been produced by the
428 CALEB WILLIAMS.
change of climate, particularly trying to persons in an
advanced period of life. Add to which, I supposed him
to be at that moment in the West Indies. I was pro-
bably as much altered in the period that had elapsed
as he had been. I was the first to recollect him. He
was on horseback ; I on foot. I had suffered him to
pass me. In a moment the full idea of who he was
rushed upon my mind ; I ran ; I called with an im-
petuous voice ; I was unable to restrain the vehemence
of my emotions.
The ardour of my feelings disguised my usual tone
of speaking, which otherwise Mr. Collins would in-
fallibly have recognised. His sight was already dim ;
he pulled up his horse till I should overtake him ; and
then said, " Who are you ? I do not know you."
" My father ! " exclaimed I, embracing one of his
knees with fervour and delight, " I am your son ; once
your little Caleb, whom you a thousand times loaded
with your kindness I "
The unexpected repetition of my name gave a kind
of shuddering emotion to my friend, which was how-
ever checked by his age, and the calm and benevolent
philosophy that formed one of his most conspicuous
habits.
" I did not expect to see you 1 " replied he : " I did
not wish it ! "
" My best, my oldest friend ! " answered I, respect
blending itself with my impatience, " do not say so !
I have not a friend any where in the whole world but
you! In you at least let me find sympathy and re-
ciprocal affection ! If you knew how anxiously I have
thought of you during the whole period of your ab-
sence, you would not thus grievously disappoint me in
your return ! "
" How is it," said Mr. Collins, gravely, " that you
CALEB WILLIAMS. 429
have been reduced to this forlorn condition ? Was it
not the inevitable consequence of your own actions?"
« The 'actions of others, not mine ! Does not your
heart tell you that I am innocent?"
" No. My observation of your early character taught
me that you would be extraordinary ; but, unhappily,
all extraordinary men are not good men : that seems
to be a lottery, dependent on circumstances apparently
the most trivial."
" Will you hear my justification ? I am as sure as I
am of my existence, that I can convince you of my
purity."
" Certainly, if you require it, I will hear you. But
that must not be just now. I could have been glad to
decline it wholly. At my age I am not fit for the
storm ; and I am not so sanguine as you in my ex-
pectation of the result. Of what would you convince
me? That Mr. Falkland is a suborner and mur-
derer?"
I made no answer. My silence was an affirmative to
the question.
" And what benefit will result from this conviction ?
I have known you a promising boy, whose character
might turn to one side or the other as events should
decide. I have known Mr. Falkland in his maturer
years, and have always admired him, as the living
model of liberality and goodness. If you could change
all my ideas, and show me that there was no criterion
by which vice might be prevented from being mistaken
for virtue, what benefit would arise from that? I
must part with all my interior consolation, and all my
external connections. And for what ? What is it you
propose ? The death of Mr. Falkland by the hands of
the hangman."
" No ; I will not hurt a hair of his head, unless com-
430 CALEB WILLIAMS,
pelled to it by a principle of defence. But surely you
owe me justice?"
" What justice ? The justice of proclaiming your
innocence ? You know what consequences are annexed
to that. But I do not believe I shall find you innocent.
If you even succeed in perplexing my understanding,
you will not succeed in enlightening it. Such is the
state of mankind, that innocence, when involved in
circumstances of suspicion, can scarcely ever make
out a demonstration of its purity ; and guilt can often
make us feel an insurmountable reluctance to the pro-
nouncing it guilt. Meanwhile, for the purchase of this
uncertainty, I must sacrifice all the remaining comforts
of my life. I believe Mr. Falkland to be virtuous ; but
I know him to be prejudiced. He would never forgive
me even this accidental parley, if by any means he
should come to be acquainted with it."
" Oh, argue not the consequences that are possible
to result I " answered I, impatiently. " I have a right to
your kindness ; I have a right to your assistance I "
" You have them. You have them to a certain de-
gree; and it is not likely that, by any process of
examination, you can have them entire. You know
my habits of thinking. I regard you as vicious ; but I
do not consider the vicious as proper objects of indig-
nation and scorn. I consider you as a machine ; you
are not constituted, I am afraid, to be greatly useful to
your fellow men : but you did not make yourself; you
are just what circumstances irresistibly compelled you
to be. I am sorry for your ill properties ; but I enter-
tain no enmity against you, nothing but benevolence.
Considering you in the light in which I at present con-
sider you, I am ready to contribute every thing in my
power to your real advantage, and would gladly assist
you, if I knew how, in detecting and extirpating the
CALEB WILLIAMS. 431
errors that have misled you. You have disappointed
me, but I have no reproaches to utter: it is more
iK-ressary for me to feel compassion for you, than that
I should accumulate your misfortune by my censures."
What could I say to such a man as this ? Amiable,
incomparable man I Never was my mind more pain-
fully divided than at that moment. The more he ex-
cited my admiration, the more imperiously did my heart
command me, whatever were the price it should cost,
to extort his friendship. I was persuaded that severe
duty required of him, that he should reject all personal
considerations, that he should proceed resolutely to the
investigation of the truth, and that, if he found the
result terminating in my favour, he should resign all
his advantages, and, deserted as I was by the world,
make a common cause, and endeavour to compensate
the general injustice. But was it for me to force this
conduct upon him, if, now in his declining years, his
own fortitude shrank from it ? Alas, neither he nor I
foresaw the dreadful catastrophe that was so closely
impending I Otherwise, I am well assured that no
tenderness for his remaining tranquillity would have
withheld him from a compliance with my wishes ! On
the other hand, could I pretend to know what evils
might result to him from his declaring himself my ad-
vocate ? Might not his integrity be browbeaten and de-
feated, as mine had been? Did the imbecility of his grey
hairs'afford no advantage to my terrible adversary in the
contest ? Might not Mr. Falkland reduce him to a con-
dition as wretched and low as mine ? After all, was it
not vice in me to desire to involve another man in my
sufferings? If I regarded them as intolerable, this was
still an additional reason why I should bear them alone.
Influenced by these considerations, I assented to his
views. I assented to be thought hardly of by the man
432 CALEB WILLIAMS.
in the world whose esteem I most ardently desired,
rather than involve him in possible calamity. I assented
to the resigning what appeared to me at that moment
as the last practicable comfort of my life ; a comfort,
upon the thought of which, while I surrendered it, my
mind dwelt with undescribable longings. Mr. Collins
was deeply affected with the apparent ingenuousness
with which I expressed my feelings. The secret
struggle of his mind was, " Can this be hypocrisy? The
individual with whom I am conferring, if virtuous, is
one of the most disinterestedly virtuous persons in the
world." We tore ourselves from each other. Mr. Collins
promised, as far as he was able, to have an eye upon
my vicissitudes, and to assist me, in every respect that
was consistent with a just recollection of consequences.
Thus I parted as it were with the last expiring hope of
my mind ; and voluntarily consented, thus maimed and
forlorn, to encounter all the evils that were yet in store
for me.
This is the latest event which at present I think it
• necessary to record. I shall doubtless hereafter have
further occasion to take up the pen. Great and un-
precedented as my sufferings have been, I feel inti-
mately persuaded that there are worse sufferings that
await me. What mysterious cause is it that enables
me to write this, and not to perish under the horrible
apprehension !
CHAPTER XV.
IT is as I foreboded. The presage with which I was
visited was prophetic. I am now to record a new and
terrible revolution of my fortune and my mind.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 433
Having made experiment of various situations with
one uniform result, I at length determined to remove
myself, if possible, from the reach of my persecutor,
by going into voluntary banishment from my native
soil. This was my last resource for tranquillity, for
honest fame, for those privileges to which human life is
indebted for the whole of its value. " In some distant
climate," said I, " surely I may find that security which
is necessary to persevering pursuit; surely I may lift
my head erect, associate with men upon the footing of
a man, acquire connections, and preserve them ! " It is
inconceivable with what ardent Teachings of the soul
I aspired to this termination.
This last consolation was denied me by the inexorable
Falkland.
At the time the project was formed I was at no
great distance from the east coast of the island, and I
resolved to take ship at Harwich, and pass immediately
into Holland. I accordingly repaired to that place, and
went, almost as soon as I arrived, to the port. But
there was no vessel perfectly ready to sail. I left the
port, and withdrew to an inn, where, after some time,
I retired to a chamber. I was scarcely there before
the door of the room was opened, and the man whose
countenance was the most hateful to my eyes, Gines,
entered the apartment* He shut the door as soon as
he entered.
" Youngster," said he, " I have a little private intel-
ligence to communicate to you. I come as a friend,
and that I may save you a labour-in-vain trouble. If
you consider what I have to say in that light, it will be
the better for you. It is my business now, do you see,
for want of a better, to see that you do not break out
of bounds. Not that I much matter having one man
for my employer, or dancing attendance after another's
F F
434 CALEB WILLIAMS.
heels ; but I have special kindness for you, for some
good turns that you wot of, and therefore I do not stand
upon ceremonies ! You have led me a very pretty round
already ; and, out of the love I bear you, you shall lead
me as much further, if you will. But beware the salt
seas I They are out of my orders. You are a prisoner
at present, and I believe all your life will remain so.
Thanks to the milk-and-water softness of your former
master I If I had the ordering of these things, it
should go with you in another fashion. As long as you
think proper, you are a prisoner within the rules ; and
the rules with which the soft-hearted squire indulges
you, are all England, Scotland, and Wales. But you
are not to go out of these climates. The squire is de-
termined you shall never pass the reach of his disposal.
He has therefore given orders that, whenever you
attempt so to do, you shall be converted from a pri-
soner at large to a prisoner in good earnest. A friend
of mine followed you just now to the harbour ; I was
within call ; and, if there had been any appearance of
your setting your foot from land, we should have been
with you in a trice, and laid you fast by the heels. I
would advise you, for the future, to keep at a proper
distance from the sea, for fear of the worst. You see
I tell you all this for your good. For my part, I should
be better satisfied if you were in limbo, with a rope
about your neck, and a comfortable bird's eye prospect
to the gallows : but I do as I am directed ; and so good
uight to you I"
The intelligence thus conveyed to me occasioned an
instantaneous revolution in both my intellectual and
animal system. I disdained to answer, or take the
smallest notice of the fiend by whom it was delivered.
It is now three days since I received it, and from that
moment to the present my blood has been in a per-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 4,33
petual ferment. My thoughts wander from one idea
of horror to another, with incredible rapidity. I have
had no sleep. I have scarcely remained in one pos-
ture for a minute together. It has been with the
utmost difficulty that I have been able to command
myself far enough to add a few pages to my story.
But, uncertain as I am of the events of each succeed-
ing hour, I determined to force myself to the per-
formance of this task. AH is not right within me.
How it will terminate, God knows. I sometimes fear
that I shall be wholly deserted of my reason.
What — dark, mysterious, unfeeling, unrelenting
tyrant ! — is it come to this ? When Nero and Caligula
swayed the Roman sceptre, it was a fearful thing to
offend these bloody rulers. The empire had already
gpread itself from climate to climate, and from sea to
sea. If their unhappy victim fled to the rising of the
sun, where the luminary of day seems to us first to
ascend from the waves of the ocean, the power of the
tyrant was still behind him. If he withdrew to the
west, to Hesperian darkness, and the shores of bar-
barian Thule, still he was not safe from his gore-
drenched foe Falkland I art thou the offspring, in
whom the lineaments of these tyrants are faithfully
preserved ? Was the world, with all its climates, made
in vain for thy helpless unoffending victim ?
Tremble I
Tyrants have trembled, surrounded with whole armies
of their Janissaries! What should make thee inac-
cessible to my fury ? No, I will use no daggers ! I
will unfold a tale ! — I will show thee to the world
for what thou art ; and all the men that live, shall con-
fess my truth ! — Didst thou imagine that I was alto-
gether passive, a mere worm, organised to feel sens-
PF2
436 CALEB WILLIAMS.
ations of pain, but no emotion of resentment ? Didst
thou imagine that there was no danger in inflicting on
me pains however great, miseries however dreadful?
Didst thou believe me impotent, imbecile, and idiot-
like, with no understanding to contrive thy ruin, and
no energy to perpetrate it?
I will tell a tale — ! The justice of the country
shall hear me ! The elements of nature in universal
uproar shall not interrupt me I I will speak with a
voice more fearful than thunder ! — Why should I be
supposed to speak from any dishonourable motive? I
am under no prosecution now ! I shall not now appear
to be endeavouring to remove a criminal indictment
from myself, by throwing it back on its author I —
Shall I regret the ruin that will overwhelm thee?
Too long have I been tender-hearted and forbearing !
What benefit has ever resulted from my mistaken
clemency? There is no evil thou hast scrupled to
accumulate upon me ! Neither will I be more scrupu-
lous 1 Thou hast shown no mercy ; and thou shalt
receive none ! — I must be calm ! bold as a lion, yet
collected !
This is a moment pregnant with fate. I know — I
think I know — that I will be triumphant, and crush
my seemingly omnipotent foe. But, should it be other-
wise, at least he shall not be every way successful.
His fame shall not be immortal as he thinks. These
papers shall preserve the truth ; they shall one day be
published, and then the world shall do justice on us
both. Recollecting that, I shall not die wholly without
consolation. It is not to be endured that falsehood
and tyranny should reign for ever.
How impotent are the precautions of man against
the eternally existing laws of the intellectual world !
This Falkland has invented against me every species
CALEB WILLIAMS. 437
of foul accusation. He has hunted me from city to
city. He has drawn his lines of circumvallation round
me that I may not escape. He has kept his scenters
of human prey for ever at my heels. He may hunt
me out of the world. — In vain I With this engine,
this little pen, I defeat all his machinations; I stab
him in the very point he was most solicitous to de-
fend!
Collins ! I now address myself to you. I have con-
sented that you should yield me no assistance in my
present terrible situation. I am content to die rather
than do any thing injurious to your tranquillity. But
remember, you are my father still! I conjure you,
by all the love you ever bore me, by the benefits you
have conferred on me, by the forbearance and kindness
towards you that now penetrates my soul, by my inno-
cence — for, if these be the last words I shall ever
write, I die protesting my innocence ! — by all these,
or whatever tie more sacred has influence on your soul,
I conjure you, listen to my last request! Preserve
these papers from destruction, and preserve them from
Falkland ! It is all I ask ! I have taken care to pro-
vide a safe mode of conveying them into your posses-
sion : and I have a firm confidence, which I will not
suffer to depart from me, that they will one day find
their way to the public !
The pen lingers in my trembling fingers ! Is there
any thing I have left unsaid ? — The contents of the
fatal trunk, from which all my misfortunes originated,
I have never been able to ascertain. I once thought
it contained some murderous instrument or relic con-
nected with the fate of the unhappy Tyrrel. I am
now persuaded that the secret it encloses, is a faithful
narrative of that and its concomitant transactions,
written by Mr. Falkland, and reserved in case of the
F F 3
438 CALEB WILLIAMS.
worst, that, if by any unforeseen event his guilt should
come to be fully disclosed, it might contribute to re-
deem the wreck of his reputation. But the truth or
the falsehood of this conjecture is of little moment.
If Falkland shall never be detected to the satisfaction
of the world, such a narrative will probably never see
the light. In that case this story of mine may amply,
severely perhaps, supply its place.
I know not what it is that renders me thus solemn.
I have a secret foreboding, as if I should never again
be master of myself. If I succeed in what I now me-
ditate respecting Falkland, my precaution in the dis-
posal of these papers will have been unnecessary ; I
shall no longer be reduced to artifice and evasion. If
I fail, the precaution will appear to have been wisely
chosen.
POSTSCRIPT.
ALL is over. I have carried into execution my medi-
tated attempt. My situation is totally changed ; I now
sit down to give an account of it. For several weeks
after the completion of this dreadful business, my mind
was in too tumultuous a state to permit me to write.
I think I shall now be able to arrange my thoughts
sufficiently for that purpose. Great God ! how won-
drous, how terrible are the events that have intervened
since I was last employed in a similar manner 1 It is
no wonder that my thoughts were solemn, and my
mind filled with horrible forebodings !
Having formed my resolution, I set out from Har-
wich, for the metropolitan town of the county in which
Mr. Falkland resided. Gines, I well knew, was in my
CALEB WILLIAMS. 439
rear. That was of no consequence to me. He might
wonder at the direction I pursued, but he could not tell
with what purpose I pursued it. My design was a
secret, carefully locked up in my own breast. It was
not without a sentiment of terror that I entered a town
which had been the scene of my long imprisonment.
I proceeded to the house of the chief magistrate the
instant I arrived, that I might give no time to my ad-
rersary to counterwork my proceeding.
I told him who I was, and that I was come from a
distant part of the kingdom, for the purpose of render-
ing him the medium of a charge of murder against my
former patron. My name was already familiar to him.
He answered, that he could not take cognizance of my
deposition ; that I was an object of universal execration
in that part of the world; and he was determined upon
no account to be the vehicle of my depravity.
I warned him to consider well what he was doing.
I called upon him for no favour ; I only applied to him
in the regular exercise of his function. Would he take
upon him to say that he had a right, at his pleasure to
suppress a charge of this complicated nature? I had
to accuse Mr. Falkland of repeated murders. The
perpetrator knew that I was in possession o"f the truth
upon the subject ; and, knowing that, I went perpe-
tually in danger of my life from his malice and revenge.
I was resolved to go through with the business, if
justice were to be obtained from any court in England.
Upon what pretence did he refuse my deposition ? I
was in every respect a competent witness. I was of
age to understand the nature of an oath ; I was in my
perfect senses; I was untarnished by the verdict of
any jury, or the sentence of any judge. His private
opinion of my character could not alter the law of the
land. I demanded to be confronted with Mr. Falkland*
F F 4
440 CALEB WILLIAMS.
and I was well assured I should substantiate the charge
to the satisfaction of the whole world. If he did not
think proper to apprehend him upon my single testi-
mony, I should be satisfied if he only sent him notice
of the charge, and summoned him to appear.
The magistrate, finding me thus resolute, thought
proper a little to lower his tone. He no longer abso-
lutely refused to comply with my requisition, but con-
descended to expostulate with me. He represented to
me Mr. Falkland's health, which had for some years
been exceedingly indifferent; his having been once
already brought to the most solemn examination upon
this charge ; the diabolical malice in which alone my
proceeding must have originated ; and the ten-fold ruin
it would bring down upon my head. To all these
representations my answer was short. " I was deter-
mined to go on, and would abide the consequences."
A summons was at length granted, and notice sent to
Mr. Falkland of the charge preferred against him.
Three days elapsed before any further step could be
taken in this business. This interval in no degree con-
tributed to tranquillise my mind. The thought of pre-
ferring a capital accusation against, and hastening the
death of, such a man as Mr. Falkland, was by no means
an opiate to reflection. At one time I commended the
action, either as just revenge (for the benevolence of
my nature was in a great degree turned to gall), or as
necessary self-defence, or as that which, in an impartial
and philanthropical estimate, included the smallest evil.
At another time I was haunted with doubts. But, in
spite of these variations of sentiment, I uniformly deter-
mined to persist! I felt as if impelled by a tide of
unconquerable impulse. The consequences were such
as might well appal the stoutest heart. Either the
ignominious execution of a man whom I had once so
CALEB WILLIAMS. 441
deeply venerated, and whom now I sometimes sus-
pected not to be without his claims to veneration ; or a
confirmation, perhaps an increase, of the calamities I
had so long endured. Yet these I preferred to a state
of uncertainty. I desired to know the worst ; to put
an end to the hope, however faint, which had been so
long my torment ; and, above all, to exhaust and finish
the catalogue of expedients that were at my disposition.
My mind was worked up to a state little short of frenzy.
My body was in a burning fever with the agitation of
my thoughts. When I laid my hand upon my bosom
or my head, it seemed to scorch them with the fer-
vency of its heat. I could not sit still for a moment.
I panted with incessant desire that the dreadful crisis
I had so eagerly invoked, were come, and were over.
After an interval of three days, I met Mr. Falkland
in the presence of the magistrate to whom I had ap-
plied upon the subject. I had only two hours' notice
to prepare myself; Mr. Falkland seeming as eager as I
to have the question brought to a crisis, and laid at rest
for ever. I had an opportunity, before the examination,
to learn that Mr. Forester was drawn by some business
on an excursion on the continent ; and that Collins,
whose health when I saw him was in a very precarious
state, was at this time confined with an alarming illness.
His constitution had been wholly broken by his West
Indian expedition. The audience I met at the house
of the magistrate consisted of several gentlemen and
others selected for the purpose ; the plan being, in some
respects, as in the former instance, to find a medium
between the suspicious air of a private examination,
and the indelicacy, as it was styled, of an examination
exposed to the remark of every casual spectator.
I can conceive of no shock greater than that I re-
ceived from the sight of Mr. Falkland. His appear-
442 CALEB WILLIAMS.
ance on the last occasion on which we met had been
haggard, ghost-like, and wild, energy in his gestures,
and frenzy in his aspect. It was now the appearance
of a corpse. He was brought in in a chair, unable to
stand, fatigued and almost destroyed by the journey he
had just taken. His visage was colourless ; his limbs
destitute of motion, almost of life. His head reclined
upon his bosom, except that now and then he lifted it
up, and opened his eyes with a languid glance ; imme-
diately after which he sunk back into his former appa-
rent insensibility. He seemed not to have three hours
to live. He had kept his chamber for several weeks ;
but the summons of the magistrate had been delivered
to him at his bed-side, his orders respecting letters and
written papers being so peremptory that no one dared
to disobey them. Upon reading the paper he was
seized with a very dangerous fit; but, as soon as he
recovered, he insisted upon being conveyed, with all
practicable expedition, to the place of appointment.
Falkland, in the most helpless state, was still Falkland,
firm in command, and capable to extort obedience from
every one that approached him.
What a sight was this to me ! Till the moment
that Falkland was presented to my view, my breast
was steeled to pity. I thought that I had coolly entered
into the reason of the case (passion, in a state of
solemn and omnipotent vehemence, always appears to
be coolness to him in whom it domineers), and that I
had determined impartially and justly. I believed
that, if Mr. Falkland were permitted to persist in his
schemes, we must both of us be completely wretched'
I believed that it was in my power, by the resolution I
had formed, to throw my share of this wretchedness
from me, and that his could scarcely be increased. It
appeared therefore to my mind, to be a mere piece of
CALEB WILLIAMS. 443
equity and justice, such as an impartial spectator would
desire, that one person should be miserable in pre-
ference to two; that one person rather than two should
be incapacitated from acting his part, and contributing
his share to the general welfare. I thought that in
this business I had risen superior to personal con-
siderations, and judged with a total neglect of the
suggestions of self-regard. It is true, Mr. Falkland was
mortal ; but, notwithstanding his apparent decay, he
might live long. Ought I to submit to waste the best
years of my life in my present wretched situation?
He had declared that his reputation should be for ever
inviolate ; this was his ruling passion, the thought that
worked his soul to madness. He would probably there-
fore leave a legacy of persecution to be received by
me from the hands of Gines, or some other villain
equally atrocious, when he should himself be no more.
Now or never was the time for me to redeem my
future life from endless woe.
But all these fine-spun reasonings vanished before
the object that was now presented to me. " Shall I
trample upon a man thus dreadfully reduced? Shall I
point my animosity against one, whom the system of
nature has brought down to the grave ? Shall I poison,
with sounds the most intolerable to his ears, the last
moments of a man like Falkland ? It is impossible.
There must have been some dreadful mistake in the
train of argument that persuaded me to be the author
of this hateful scene. There must have been a better
and more magnanimous remedy to the evils under
which I groaned."
It was too late : the mistake I had committed was
now gone past all power of recall. Here was Falkland,
solemnly brought before a magistrate to answer to a
charge of murder. Here I stood, having already de-
444> CALEB WILLIAMS.
clared myself the author of the charge, gravely and
sacredly pledged to support it. This was my situation ;
and, thus situated, I was called upon immediately to
act. My whole frame shook. I would eagerly have
consented that that moment should have been the last
of my existence. I however believed, that the conduct
now most indispensably incumbent on me was to lay
the emotions of my soul naked before my hearers. I
looked first at Mr. Falkland, and then at the magistrate
and attendants, and then at Mr. Falkland again. My
voice was suffocated with agony. I began : —
" Why cannot I recall the last four days of my life?
How was it possible for me to be so eager, so obstinate,
in a purpose so diabolical ? Oh, that I had listened to
the expostulations of the magistrate that hears me, or
submitted to the well-meant despotism of his authority I
Hitherto I have been only miserable ; henceforth I
shall account myself base ! Hitherto, though hardly
treated by mankind, I stood acquitted at the bar of my
own conscience. I had not filled up the measure of
my wretchedness I
" Would to God it were possible for me to retire
from this scene without uttering another word ! I
would brave the consequences — I would submit to any
imputation of cowardice, falsehood, and profligacy,
rather than add to the weight of misfortune with which
Mr. Falkland is overwhelmed. But the situation, and
the demands of Mr. Falkland himself, forbid me. He,
in compassion for whose fallen state I would willingly
forget every interest of my own, would compel me to
accuse, that he might enter upon his justification. I
will confess every sentiment of my heart.
" No penitence, no anguish, can expiate the folly
and the cruelty of this last act I have perpetrated.
But Mr. Falkland well knows — I affirm it in his pre-
CALEB WILLIAMS. 445
sence— how unwillingly I have proceeded to this ex-
tremity. I have reverenced him; he was worthy of
reverence : I have loved him ; he was endowed with
qualities that partook of divine.
" From the first moment I saw him, I conceived the
most ardent admiration. He condescended to en-
courage me ; I attached myself to him with the fulness
of my affection. He was unhappy ; I exerted myself
with youthful curiosity to discover the secret of his
woe. This was the beginning of misfortune.
"What shall I say? — He was indeed the murderer of
Tyrrel ; he suffered the Hawkinses to be executed,
knowing that they were innocent, and that he alone
was guilty. After successive surmises, after various
indiscretions on my part, and indications on his, he at
length confided to me at full the fatal tale I
" Mr. Falkland ! I most solemnly conjure you to re-
collect yourself! Did I ever prove myself unworthy
of your confidence ? The secret was a most painful
burthen to me ; it was the extremest folly that led me
unthinkingly to gain possession of it ; but I would have
died a thousand deaths rather than betray it. It was
the jealousy of your own thoughts, and the weight that
hung upon your mind, that led you to watch my mo-
tions, and to conceive alarm from every particle of my
conduct.
"You began in confidence; why did you not continue
in confidence? The evil that resulted from my
original imprudence would then have been compar-
atively little. You threatened me : did I then betray
you ? A word from my lips at that time would have
freed me from your threats for ever. I bore them for
a considerable period, and at Mast quitted your service,
and threw myself a fugitive upon the world, in silence.
Why did you not suffer me to depart? You brought
4-4-6 CALEB WILLIAMS.
me back by stratagem and violence, and wantonly
accused me of an enormous felony ! Did I then mention
a syllable of the murder, the secret of which was in my
possession ?
" Where is the man that has suffered more from the
injustice of society than I have done ? I was accused
of a villainy that my heart abhorred. I was sent to
jail. I will not enumerate the horrors of my prison,
the lightest of which would make the heart of humanity
shudder. I looked forward to the gallows ! Young,
ambitious, fond of life, innocent as the child unborn, I
looked forward to the gallows ! I believed that one
word of resolute accusation against my patron would
deliver me ; yet I was silent, I armed myself with
patience, uncertain whether it were better to accuse or
to die. Did this show me a man unworthy to be
trusted ?
" I determined to break out of prison. With infinite
difficulty, and repeated miscarriages, I at length effected
my purpose. Instantly a proclamation, with a hundred
guineas reward, was issued for apprehending me. I
was obliged to take shelter among the refuse of man-
kind, in the midst of a gang of thieves. I encountered
the most imminent peril of my life when I entered
this retreat, and when I quitted it. Immediately after,
I travelled almost the whole length of the kingdom, in
poverty and distress, in hourly danger of being re-taken
and manacled like a felon. I would have fled my
country ; I was prevented. I had recourse to various
disguises ; I was innocent, and yet was compelled to as
many arts and subterfuges as could have been entailed
on the worst of villains. In London I was as much
harassed and as repeatedly alarmed as I had been in
my flight through the country. Did all these perse-
cutions persuade me to put an end to my silence?
CALEB WILLIAMS. 44-7
No : I suffered them with patience and submission ; I
did not make one attempt to retort them upon their
author.
I fell at last into the hands of the miscreants that are
nourished with human blood. In this terrible situation
I, for the first time, attempted, by turning informer, to
throw the weight from myself. Happily for me, the
London magistrate listened to my tale with insolent
contempt.
" I soon, and long, repented of my rashness, and re-
joiced in my miscarriage.
" I acknowledge that, in various ways, Mr. Falkland
showed humanity towards me during this period. He
would have prevented my going to prison at first ; he
contributed towards my subsistence during my de-
tention ; he had no share in the pursuit that had been
set on foot against me ; he at length procured my dis-
charge, when brought forward for trial. But a great
part of his forbearance was unknown to me ; I sup-
posed him to be my unrelenting pursuer. I could not
forget that, whoever heaped calamities on me in the
sequel, they all originated in his forged accusation.
"The prosecution against me for felony was now at
an end. Why were not my sufferings permitted to
terminate then, and I allowed to hide my weary head
in some obscure yet tranquil retreat ? Had I not suf-
ficiently proved my constancy and fidelity ? Would not
a compromise in this situation have been most wise
and most secure? But the restless and jealous anxiety
of Mr. Falkland would not permit him to repose the
least atom of confidence. The only compromise that
he proposed was that, with my own hand, I should
sijm myself a villain. I refused this proposal, and have
ever since been driven from place to place, deprived of
peace, of honest fame, even of bread. For a long time
448 CALEB WILLIAMS.
I persisted in the resolution that no emergency should
convert me into the assailant. In an evil hour I at
last listened to my resentment and impatience, and the
hateful mistake into which I fell has produced the
present scene.
" I now see that mistake in all its enormity. I am
sure that if I had .opened my heart to Mr. Falkland,
if I had told to him privately the tale that I have now
been telling, he could not have resisted my reasonable
demand. After all his precautions, lie must ultimately
have depended upon my forbearance. Could he be
sure that, if I were at last worked up to disclose every
thing I knew, and to enforce it with] all the energy I
could exert, I should obtain no credit ? If he must in
every case be at my mercy, in which mode ought he to
have sought his safety, in conciliation, or in inexorable
cruelty ?
" Mr. Falkland is of a noble nature. Yes ; in spite of
the catastrophe of Tyrrel, of the miserable end of the
Hawkinses, and of all that I have myself suffered, I
affirm that he has qualities of the most admirable kind.
It is therefore impossible that he could have resisted
a frank and fervent expostulation, the frankness and
the fervour in which the whole soul is poured out.
I despaired, while it was yet time to have made the
just experiment ; but my despair was criminal, was
treason against the sovereignty of truth.
" I have told a plain and unadulterated tale. I came
hither to curse, but I remain to bless. I came to ac-
cuse, but am compelled to applaud. I proclaim to all
the world, that Mr. Falkland is a man worthy of af-
fection and kindness, and that I am myself the basest
and most odious of mankind ! Never will I forgive my-
self the iniquity of this day. The memory will always
haunt me, and embitter every hour of my existence.
CALEB WILLIAMS. 44-9
In thus acting I have been a murderer — a cool, de-
liberate, unfeeling murderer. — I have said what my
accursed precipitation has obliged me to say. Do with
me as you please ! I ask no favour. Death would be a
kindness, compared to what I feel J"
Such were the accents dictated by my remorse. I
poured them out with uncontrollable impetuosity ; for
my heart was pierced, and I was compelled to give
vent to its anguish. Every one that heard me, was
petrified with astonishment. Every one that heard me,
Wit melted into tears. They could not resist the ardour
with which I praised the great qualities of Falkland ;
they manifested their sympathy in the tokens of my
penitence.
How xhall I describe the feelings of this unfortunate
man ? Before I began, he seemed sunk and debilitated,
incapable of any strenuous impression. When I men-
tioned the murder, I could perceive in him an involun-
tary shuddering, though it was counteracted partly by
the feebleness of his frame, and partly by the energy
of his mind. This was an allegation he expected, and
he had endeavoured to prepare himself for it. But
there was much of what I said, of which he had had no
previous conception. When I expressed the anguish
of my mind, he seemed at first startled and alarmed,
lest this should be a new expedient to gain credit to
my tale. His indignation against me was great for
having retained all my resentment towards him, thus,
as it might be, to the last hour of his existence. It was
increased when he discovered me, as he supposed,
using a pretence of liberality and sentiment to give
new edge to my hostility. But as I went on he could
no longer resist. He saw my sincerity ; he was pene-
trated with my grief and compunction. He rose from
his seat, supported by the attendants, and — to my in-
finite astonishment — threw himself into my arms !
G G
4-50 CALEB WILLIAMS.
" Williams," said he, " you have conquered ! I see
too late the greatness and elevation of your mind. I
confess that it is to my fault and not yours, that it is
to the excess of jealousy that was ever burning in my
bosom, that I owe my ruin. I could have resisted any
plan of malicious accusation you might have brought
against me. But I see that the artless and manly
story you have told, has carried conviction to every
hearer. All my prospects are concluded. All that I
most ardently desired, is for ever frustrated. I have
spent a life of the basest cruelty, to cover one act of
momentary vice, and to protect myself against the
prejudices of my species. I stand now completely de-
tected. My name will be consecrated to infamy, while
your heroism, your patience, and your virtues will be
for ever admired. You have inflicted on me the most
fatal of all mischiefs ; but I bless the hand that wounds
me. And now," — turning to the magistrate — "and
now, do with me as you please. I am prepared to suffer
all the vengeance of the law. You cannot inflict on me
more than I deserve. You cannot hate me, more than
I hate myself. I am the most execrable of all villains.
I have for many years (I know not how long) dragged
on a miserable existence in insupportable pain. I am
at last, in recompense for all my labours and my crimes,
dismissed from it with the disappointment of my only
remaining hope, the destruction of that for the sake of
which alone I consented to exist. It was worthy of
such a life, that it should continue just long enough to
witness this final overthrow. If however you wish to
punish me, you must be speedy in your justice ; for, as
reputation was the blood that warmed my heart, so I
feel that death and infamy must seize me together."
I record the praises bestowed on me by Falkland,
not because I deserved them, but because they serve
to aggravate the baseness of my cruelty. He survived
CALEB WILLIAMS. 451
this dreadful scene but three days. I have been his
murderer. It was fit that he should praise my patience,
who has fallen a victim, life and fame, to my precipi-
tation ! It would have been merciful in comparison, if
I had planted a dagger in his heart. He would have
thanked me for my kindness. But, atrocious, execrable
wretch that I have been I I wantonly inflicted on him
an anguish a thousand times worse than death. Mean-
while I endure the penalty of my crime. His figure is
ever in imagination before me. Waking or sleeping, I
still behold him. He seems mildly to expostulate with
me for my unfeeling behaviour. I live the devoted
victim of conscious reproach. Alas ! I am the same
Caleb Williams that, so short a time ago, boasted that,
however great were the calamities I endured, I was still
innocent.
Such has been the result of a project I formed, for
delivering myself from the evil that had so long at-
tended me. I thought that, if Falkland were dead, I
should return once again to all that makes life worth
possessing. I thought that, if the guilt of Falkland
were established, fortune and the world would smile
upon my efforts. Both these events are accomplished ;
and it is now only that I am truly miserable.
Why should my reflections perpetually centre upon
myself? — self, an overweening regard to which has
been the source of my errors ! Falkland, I will think
only of thee, and from that thought will draw ever-
fresh nourishment for my sorrows! One generous,
one disinterested tear I will consecrate to thy ashes !
A nobler spirit lived not among the sons of men. Thy
intellectual powers were truly sublime, and thy bosom
burned with a godlike ambition. But of what use are
talents and sentiments in the corrupt wilderness of
human society? It is a rank and rotten soil, from
which every finer shrub draws poison as it grows. All
452 CALEB WILLIAMS.
that, in a happier field and a purer air, would expand
into virtue and germinate into usefulness, is thus con-
verted into henbane and deadly nightshade.
Falkland ! thou enteredst upon thy career with the
purest and most laudable intentions. But thou im-
bibedst the poison of chivalry with thy earliest youth ;
and the base and low-minded envy that met thee on
thy return to thy native seats, operated with this poison
to hurry thee into madness. Soon, too soon, by this
fatal coincidence, were the blooming hopes of thy
youth blasted for ever. From that moment thou only
continuedst to live to the phantom of departed honour.
From that moment thy benevolence was, in a great
part, turned into rankling jealousy and inexorable pre-
caution. Year after year didst thou spend in this mi-
serable project of imposture ; and only at last con-
tinuedst to live, long enough to see, by my misjudging
and abhorred intervention, thy closing hope disap-
pointed, and thy death accompanied with the foulest
disgrace !
I began these memoirs with the idea of vindicating
my character. I have now no character that I wish to
vindicate : but I will finish them that thy story may
be fully understood ; and that, if those errors of thy
life be known which thou so ardently desiredst to
conceal, the world may at least not hear and repeat a
half-told and mangled tale.
THE END.
Printed by A. & K. Spottiswoode,
New-Street- Square.
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