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•1 


E    D    W  A--&   D, 


VARIOUS    VIEWS 


HUMAN    NATURE, 


TAKEN 


From    LIFE    and    MANNERS, 
Chiefly  in  ENGLAND. 

Dicimus  autem 

Hos  quoque  Felices,  qui  ferre  incommoda  vitz, 

Nee  jaftare  jugum,  vita  didicere  magiftra.  j  uy. 


By  the  AUTHOR  of  ZELUCO. 

IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 
VOL.    I. 


LONDON: 

Printed  for  A.  STRAHAN,  and  T.  CADELE  jun.  and  W.  DAVIES 

(Succefibrs  to  Mr.  CADELL)  in  the  Strand, 

MTCCSCTl, 


- 


D    W    A    R 


VOL.    I. 


E     D     W    'A     R     D. 


CHAP.     I. 

The  Sympathy  of  a  benevolent  MM. 

MRS.  BARNET,  wife  of  Mr.  George 
Barnet,  who  lived  at  no  great  dif- 
tance  from  London,  had  been  in  town  to 
put  her  daughter  to  a  boarding  fchool. 

She  had  taken  a  poft-chaife,  that  the 
chariot  might  remain  for  the  ufe  of  her  huf- 
band,  whofe  conftant  cuftom  it  was  to  drive 
out  every  day  before  dinner,  to  acquire  an 
appetite,  the  only  fenfible  reafon- which, 
in  Mr.  Barnet's  opinion,  any  man  in  eafy 
circumftances  could  have  for  being  at  the 
trouble  of  exercife. 

VOL.  i.  B  As 


2  EDWARD. 

As  Mrs.  Barnet  returned  from  town,  the 
poft-chaife  broke  down  in  the  middle  of  the 
road — a  ftage-coach  came  up  at  the  inftant 
that  Mrs.  Barnet  and  her  maid  had  got  fafely 
out  of  the  poft-chaife  ;  the  coachman  knew 
Mrs.  Barnet,  and  his  cou'rfe  being  directly 
through  a  village  contiguous  to  her  huf- 
band's  houfe,  he  ftopp'd,  and  offered  to  fet 
her  down  at  her  own  door. — Mrs.  Barnet 
perceiving  that  it  would  take  a  confiderable 
time  before  the  chaife  could  be  mended, 
agreed  to  the  coachman's  propofal,  and  de- 
fired  her  maid  to  put  a  fmall  bundle  into 
the  coach. 

"Lard,  madam,"  cried  the  maid,  as  Toon 
as  me  had  peeped  into  the  coach,  "  here  is 
a  frightful  old  woman  and  a  beggarly  look- 
ing boy — you  cannot  poflibly  go  in  here." 

"  As  for  the  old  woman  and  the  boy,'* 
faid  the  coachman, "  although  they  are  fitting 
within,  they  are  no  more  than  outfide  paf- 
fengers — for  as  ill  luck  would  have  it,  I 
chanced  to  have  none  within;  fo  when  the 
rain  came  on,  I  took  pity  on  the  boy,  and 
defired  him  to  take  fhelter  in  the  coach, 

which 


EDWARD.  3 

which  he  refufed,  unlefs  the  old  woman 
was  allowed  to  go  in  alfo  ; — fo  as  the  boy, 
you  fee,  is  a  very  pretty  boy,  I  could  not 
bear  that  he  fhould  be  expofed  to  the  rain, 
and  fo  I  was  obliged  to  let  in  both ;  but 
now,  to  be  fure,  if  her  ladyfhip  infifts  on  it, 
they  muft  both  go  on  the  outfide,  which 
will  be  no  great  hardfhip,  for  it  begins  to 
grow  fair." 

"  Fair  or  foul,  they  muft  get  out  directly," 
faid  the  maid ;  "  do  you  imagine  that  my 
miftrefs  will  fit  with  fuch  creatures  as  thefe, 
more  particularly  in  fuch  a  dirty  machine  r" 

"  Hark  you,  young  woman,"  faid  the 
coachman,  ''  you  may  fay  of  the  old  woman 
and  the  boy  what  you  pleafe,  they  do  not 
belong  to  me  ; — but  as  for  the  coach,  it  is 
my  coach,  and  I  would  have  you  to  know, 
bears  as  good  a  reputation  as  any  on  the 
road,  perhaps  a  better  than  your  own ;  fo 
I  would  not  advife  you  for  to  go  for  to 
flurify  the  character  of  thofe  who  are  faying 
nothing  againft  yours : — But  as  for  you,  my 
dear,  you  muft  come  out,"  continued  he, 
B  2  taking 


4  EDWARD. 

taking  the  boy  by  the  arm,  "  fmce  this  here 
gentlewoman  infifts  upon  it." 

"  By  no  means,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet ;  "  let 
the  child  remain,  and  the  woman  alfo;  there 
is  room  for  us  all." 

So  faying,  fhe  ftepped  into  the  coach  ; 
the  maid  followed,  and  the  coachman  drove 
on. 

This  arrangement  was  highly  difagree- 
able  to  the  maid,  who  feemed  greatly  mor- 
tified at  being  feated  near  a  woman  fo  mean- 
ly drefled^ 

Mrs.  Barnet,  on  the  other  hand,  was  pleaf- 
ed  with  the  opportunity  of  accommodating 
the  poor  woman  and  boy — for  this  lady  was 
of  a  benevolent  difpofition,  and  although 
fhe  was  likewife  mod  uncommonly  free 
from  vanity,  yet  if  all  the  maid's  ftock  had 
T)een  divided  between  them,  the  miflrefs  and 
maid  together  would  have  made  a  couple  of 
very  vain  women. 

Mrs.  Barnet  was  in   rather  low  fpirits,. 

owing  to  her  being  feparated  now,  for  the 

firft  time  in  her  life,  from  her  daughter — 

I  the 


EDWARD.  5 

the  old  woman,  on  the  contrary,  being  de- 
lighted with  her  fituation  in  the  coach, 
was  in  high  fpirits,  and  much  difpofed  to 
fhare  them  with  all  the  company. 

She  made  repeated  attempts  to  draw  Mrs. 
Barnet  into  con  verfation,  but  without  fuccefs ; 
for  although  from  a  civility  of  difpofition 
which  never  forfook  her,  fhe  anfwered  with 
affability  all  the  woman's  queflions,  flie  al- 
ways relapfed  into  penfive  filence. 

The  old  woman  was  furprifed  as  well 
as  difappointed  at  this — fhe  never  in  the 
courfe  of  her  life  had  met  with  fo  filent  a 
woman,  and  thinking  it  next  to  impoffible 
that  fhe  fhould  ftumble  upon  two  on  the 
fame  day,  in  the  fame  coach,  of  the  fame 
difpofition,  fhe  ventured  to  addrefs  the  maid, 
in  .fpite  of  her  repulfive  looks,  faying, 
"  Pray,  miftrefs,  as  the  fun  begins  to  break 
out,  do  you  not  think  it  will  turn  out  a 
good  day  ?" 

In  this   attempt  to  lead  the   maid  into 

converfation,  fhe  was  flill  more  unfuccefsful 

than  fhe  had  been  with  the  miftrefs ;  for 

although  the  former  did  not  partake  of  the 

B  3  'latter's 


6  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

latter' s  dejection  of  fpirits,  and  had  no 
kind  of  averfion  in  general  to  talking,  yet 
{he  deemed  a  perfon  drafted  as  this  poor 
woman  was,  far  beneath  her  anfvvering — 
therefore  furveying  the  woman's  ruflet 
gown  with  contempt,  and  at  the  fame  time 
brufhing  the  duft  from  the  fleeves  of  her 
own,  which  was  of  filk,  with  an  elevated 
nofe  and  projected  under  lip,  fhe  turned 
her  difdainful  eyes  to  the  other  fide,  with- 
out making  the  poor  woman  any  anfwer. 

Baffled  in  all  her  atteVnpts  to  provoke  at 
converfaticn,  and  quite  unable  to  hold  her 
tongue,  as  a  laft  recourfe  the  old  woman 
began  to  talk  with  the  boy. 

His  prattle  foon  difturbed  the  meditations 
and  attracted  the  attention  of  Mrs.  Barnet, 
who  at  length  afked  the  old  woman,  what 
relation  the  boy  was  to  her. 

Pleafed  with  this  opportunity  of  giving 
freedom  to  her  tongue,  fhe  anfwered  with 
great  rapidity,  and  almoft  in  one  breath, 
"  relation  to  me  !  All  my  relations  are  dead, 
pleafe  your  Ladyfliip,  except  my  nephew, 
the  pawn-broker  in  Shug-lane,  who  is  grown 

fo 


EDWARD.  7 

ib  rich  and  fo  proud,  that  he  hardly  fpeaks 
to  me ;  but  as  for  that  there  boy  I  never 
faw  him  in  my  life,  till  this  here  blefled  day, 
when  I  received  him  from  the  overfeers 
of  the  work-houfe,  to  take  him  to  my  own 
houfe  in  the  country;  where  I  already  have 
fix  children  all  boarded  at  the  rate  of  poor 
three  {hillings  a  week,  which  your  Lady- 
fhip  mud  acknowledge  is  too  little  in  all 
confcience  for  my  trouble  and  expence; 
but  the  hearts  of  thofe  who  take  care  of 
the  poor  of  feme  parifhes,  are  as  hard  as  the 
very  church  walls. — Now,pleafe  yourLady- 
fhip,  this  poor  child,  it  feerns,  was  lately  ill 
of  the  affluenza,  and  cannot  be  'put  out  to 
a  trade  till  he  grows  ftronger.  And  fo  they 
gave  him  to  me  with  the  other  children, 
for  the  benefice  of  country  air  ;  which  I 
do  allure  your  Ladyfhip  does  quite  and 
clean  the  contrirary  of  doctors  drugs, 
for  it  recovers  the  health  of  the  children, 
and  gives  them  all  a  monftrous  devouring 
appetite,  as  I  am  fure  I  finds  to  my  coft — 

and  fo — if  fo  be  as " 

B  4  "  Pray 


8  EDWARD. 

"  Pray,  who  are  his  parents?"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet,  interrupting  the  old  woman's  flu- 
ency, which  fhe  faw  was  inexhauftible. 

"  The  Lord  above,  he  only  knows,"  re- 
plied the  old  woman;   "  for  they  told  me 
he  was  brought  to  the  work-houfe  when 
he  was  only  a  few  months  old;  the  parifti 
officers  received  him  from  a  poor  woman, 
who  faid  fhe  was  not  his  mother,  but  his 
name  was  Edward  Evelin ;  but  who  was 
his  mother,  is  difficult  to  tell;  and  ftill  more, 
who  was  his  real  father,  as  your  Ladyfhip 
well    knows,    for   they   have    never  been 
found  out ;  but  it  (lands  to  reafon,  that  he 
muft  have  had  both,  for  I  never  heard  of 
any  body  who  had  neither  father  nor  mo- 
ther, except  Michael  Hifendeck,  of  whom 
the  parfon  of  our  parifh  preached  laft  Sun- 
day; but  Michael  lived  in  the  bible  days, 
which   is  different  from  thefe  here  times ; 
fo  this  boy's  parents   muft  be  perfons  un- 
known ;   but  be  who  they  will,  I  fufpecl: 
that  they  were  no  better  than  they  (hould 
be;  in  which   cafe  it   is  pretty  clear  that 

this 


EDWARD.  9 

this  here  boy,  faving  your  Ladyfhip's  pre- 
fence,  is  neither  more  nor  lefs  than  an. 
unnatural  child  ;  for  if  he  had  been  born 
in  the  natural  way  of  marriage,  it  ftands 
to  reafon  that  his  parents  would  have 
owned  him  long  ago." 

Mrs.  Barnet,  affected  with  the  condition 
of  this  boy,  who  began  life  under  fuch  un- 
favourable aufpices,  faid,  "  Are  you  not 
forry,  my  dear,  to  leave  home  ?" 

"  No,"  anfwered  he;  "  I  don't  care." 

"  Is  there  not  fomebody  at  home  whom 
you  are  forry  to  leave?"  refumed  me. 

"  No,"  replied  the  boy;  "  I  am  not  forry 
to  leave  any  body." 

"  What,  not  thofe  who  are  good  to  you  ?" 
rejoined  me. 

"  Nobody  was  ever  good  to  me"  faid  the 
boy. 

Mrs.  Barnet  was  touched  with  the  child's 
anfwers,  which  ftrongly  painted  his  helplefs 
lot,  and  the  cruel  indifference  of  the  world. 
She  thought  of  her  own  child  now,  for  the 
firft  time,  left  to  the  care  of  ftrangers,  and 
the  tear  flood  in  her  eye. 

"My 


io  EDWARD. 

"  My  poor  little  fellow,"  faid  me,  after 
a  fhort  paufe,  l<  was  nobody  ever  good  to 
you?" 

"  No,"  anfwered  he,  "  they  are  good 
only  to  the  Miftrefs's  fon." 

'tc  And  have  you  no  friend,  my  dear?"  added 
Ihe  with  a  figh. 

"  No,  for  old  Robin  the  foot-man  died 
laflweek."' 

"  Was  he  your  friend  ? 

"  Yes,  that  he  was,  replied  the  boy ;  he 
once  gave  me  a  piece  of  ginger-bread." 
-.  Mrs.  Barnet  could  not  help  fmiling  at  the 
expreflive  fimplicity  of  the  anfwer,  and 
felt  herfelf  fo  much  interefled  in  him,  and 
fo  much  affeded  at  feeing  fo  fine  a  child 
thrown  as  it  were  at  random  on  the  world, 
that  while  me  yet  fmiled,  the  tears  flowed 
from  her  eyes — which  the  boy  obfervirig, 
and  miftaking  their  caufe,  faid,  "  I  fell  a 
crying  myielf,  when  -I  heard  that  poor  old 
Robin  was  dead." 

"  That  was  like  a  good  boy,"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet. 

"  No, 


EDWARD.  IT 

"  No,  it  was  like  a  naughty  boy,"  faid  he ; 
"  and  the  matron  whipt  me  for  it." 

"  My  poor  dear  little  fellow,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Barnet,  "  that  was  hard  indeed  !" 

"  It  is  very  right  howfomever,  Madam, 
faid  the  old  woman,  that  children  fhould  be 
whipt  for  crying  ;  if  I  did  not  make  that  at 
conftant  rule  at  my  houfe,  there  would  be 
nothing  but  fquawling  from  morning  to 
night — for  I'll  tell  you,  as  how  I  always 
ferves  them  there  little  chits,  whenever  they 
begins  to  make 'a  noife — I  takes  them — " 

Here  the  old  woman  was  interrupted  by 
the  flopping  of  the  coach  at  the  part  of  the 
common  where  fhe  was  to  get  out  and  walk 
to  her  own  houfe. 

Mrs.  Barnet  warmly  recommended  the 
boy  to  her  care,  putting  at  the  fame  time  a 
guinea  into  her  hand,  and  adding  that  fhe 
would  perhaps  call  upon  her  fometimes,  and 
would  reward  her  more  liberally  if  fhe 
found  that  the  boy  was  treated  with  kind- 
nefs. — The  old  woman  having  promifed  to 
treat  him  kindly,  led  him  away,  and  the 
coach  drove  on. 


iz.  EDWARD. 


CHAP.     II. 

Qnaz  ComseJia— Mimus 
Qws  melior  plorante  gula  ?  Ju  v. 

'T^HE  forlorn  condition  of  this  poor 
boy,  deftitute  of  father,  mother,  re- 
lation, or  protestor,  fo  ftrongly  awakened 
the  humane  feelings  of  Mrs.  Barnet,  that 
hejr  thoughts  were  divided  between  him  and 
her  own  child  for  the  remainder  of  the 
way;  apd  when  fhe  arrived  at  her  own 
feoufe,  after  giving  her  hufband  a  particular 
account  of  every  thing  relative  to  the  eftab- 
lifhnaent  of  his  daughter,  fhe  began  the 
hiftory  of  the  workhoufe  boy  ;  but  fhe  had 
not  proceeded  far,  when  Mr.  Barnet  haftily 
rung  the  bell  to  know  whether  dinner  was 
near  ready,  faying,  "  that  be  had  eaten  little 
or  nothing  fince  his  breakfaft,  and  indeed 
not  a  great  deal  then,  owing  to  the  careleflf- 
nefs  of  the  maid,  who  had  not  put  butter 
enough  upon  the  toaft."  "  Why  did  you 

not 


EDWARD.  13 

not  order  her  to  make  fome  with  more,  my 
dear  ?"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet.  "  Becaufe,"  re- 
plied he,  "  I  did  not  obferve  it  till  I  could 
eat  no  more  ;  fo  that,  upon  the  whole,  I 
made  a  very  uncomfortable  breakfaft." 

"  I  am  forry  for  it,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet ; 
"  but  I  hope  you  have  had  fomething 
fmce." 

"  Very  little,"  replied  he ;  "  for  I  was  put 
fo  out  of  humour  with  the  toaft,  that  I 
have  had  little  or  no  appetite  until  now." 

"  That  is  provoking,  indeed,"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet,  in  a  fympathifmg  tone  of  voice* 
"  But  here  comes  the  dinner,  and  I  truft 
you  will  now  be  able  to  make  up  for  the 
lofs  of  your  breakfaft."  "I  wifh  to  God,  my 
dear,  the  fifh  be  not  overdone,"  cried  Mr. 
Barnet,  fixing  an  alarmed  look  on  the  difh. 

"  Pray  do  not  'terrify  yourfelf,"  replied 
Mrs.  Barnet ;  "the  fi(h  is  done  to  a  moment; 
and  the  veal,  as  well  as  the  beans  and  bacon, 
feem  admirable — allow  me  to  help  you." 

Mrs,  Barnet  accordingly  helped  her  huf- 
band  to  every  thing  fhe  knew  he  liked, 
which,  he  being  a  man  of  few  words,  parti- 
cularly 


14  EDWARD. 

cularly  at  meals,  accepted  in  filent  compla- 
cency. After  having  amply  indemnified 
himfelf  for  the  misfortunes  of  the  breakfaft, 
and  having  attempted,  in  vain,  to  fwallow 
another  morfel,  he  looked  with  benignity  at 
.his  wife,  and  faid,  "  I  really  wifh  you  would 
eat  a  little  bit  yourfelf,  my  dear." 

"  I  believe  the  parting  with  our  fweet 
girl  has  entirely  deprived  me  of  appetite ;  it 
is  not  in  my  power  to  eat  much ;  but,  if 
you  pleafe,  I  will  drink  a  glafs  of  wine 
with  you." 

"  I  will  juft  take  one  draught  more  of 
ale  firft ;  I  believe  there  is  but  one  other 
draught  in  the  tankard." 

Mr.  Barnet,  having  rimmed  his  ale,  "Upon 
my  word,"  faid  he,  "  this  ale  is  excellent — 
and  now,  my  dear,  I  am  ready  to  join  you 
in  a  glafs  of  wine. — Here,  my  dear,  is  your 
very  good  health,  with  all  my  heart,  not 
forgetting  our  dear  Louifa." 

After  Mr.  Barriet  had  drank  a  few  glafTes 

more,  and  praifed  the  port  as  found,  and 

ftomachic,  and  of  a  good  body;"  I  am  glad 

.  to  fee  you  here  again,  my  dear,"  faid  he  ; 

'•  they 


EDWARD,  15 

"  they  may  talk  of  the  comforts  and  con- 
veniences of  London  as  they  pleafe,  but  I 
think  there  is  no  place  where  one  finds 
every  thing  fo  neat,  and  fo  clean,  and  fo 
comfortable,  as  in  one's  own  houfe  here,  and 
at  one's  own,  good,  warm,  fnug  firefide." 

Mrs.  Barnet,  defirous  of  interefting  her 
hufband  in  the  poor  boy,  thought  this  a  good 
opportunity,  and  after  expreffing  her  own 
fatisfaction  in  the  thoughts  of  his  finding 
home  fo  agreeable,  Ihe  proceeded  in  the  fol- 
lowing terms:  "  Yet,  my  dear, in  the  midft 
of  thofe  comforts  which  Providence  has  fo 
bountifully  beftowed  upon  us,  it  is  impof- 
fible  not  to  feel  uneafmefs  in  refleclirjg  on 
the  numbers  of  our  fellow -creatures,  who, 
inftead  of  thofe  conveniences  which  we  en- 
joy, are  fain,  after  fatigue  and  labour,  to 
feek  a  little  refrefhment,  and  repofe  upon 
ftraw,  in  cold  uncomfortable  habitations, 
and  from  fcanty  provifions  !  The  fine  boy, 
whom  I  already  mentioned,  was  going  from 
a  workhoufe,  to  the  miferable  cottage  of  a 
wretched  old  woman,  who  had  no  natural 
intereft  in  him,  and——" 

Here 


r6  EDWARD. 

Here  Mrs.Barnet  ftopp'd,becaufe  me  per- 
ceived that  her  hufband  had  fallen  afleep. 

The  following  day  they  had  vifitors,  and 
Mrs.  Barnet  found  no  proper  opportunity 
of  mentioning  to  her  hufband  the  boy  in 
whom  fhe  felt  fo  flrong  an  intereft.  The 
day  after,  fhe  was  again  prevented  by  the 
following  accident : — A  large  company  were 
invited  to  dine  on  turtle,  at  an  inn  in  the 
village.  This  dinner  was  given  by  a  gentle- 
man, whofe  intereft  in  the  county  Mr. 
Barnet  oppofed,  of  courfe  he  was  not  in- 
vited to  the  feaft;  but  the  inn-keeper,  who 
had  private  reafons  for  cultivating  the  good 
will  of  Mr.  Barnet,  and  knew  by  what 
means  that  was  to  be  moft  effe&ually  ob- 
tained, gave  him  to  know  that  a  copious 
bafon  of  the  turtle  fhould  be  fent  to  him. — 
Mr.  Barnet  having  prepared  himfelf  for  the 
occaiion,  by  a  longer  airing  than  ufual, 
was  waiting  with  impatience  for  the  ac- 
compHihment  of  the  inn-keeper's  promife, 
when  he  was  informed,  that  in  conveying 
the  foup  from  the  inn,  the  fervant  had 
ftumbled,  and  fpik  the  rich  cargo  on  the 

ground. 


E  D  \V  A  R  D.  17 

ground.  This  melancholy  accident  affected 
Mr.  Barnet  fo  deeply,  that  his  wife  plainly 
perceived  it  would  be  vain  to  expect  that 
he  flioiikl,  for  that  day  at  leaft,  think  of 
any  body's  misfortune  but  his  own. 


VOL,  I. 


i8  EDWARD. 


CHAP.    III. 

How  few,  like  thee,  enquire  the  wretched  out, 

And  court  the  offices  of  foft  humanity  ?  ROWE. 

/TpHE  following  morning,  Mrs.  Barnet, 
on  the  pretext  of  paying  an  early 
•vifit,  drove  to  the  old  woman's  Cottage,  to 
enquire  after  the  poor  boy. 

She  foon  obferved  him  fitting  on  a  ftone 
before  the  old  woman's  door,  apart  frorri 
the  other  children,  who  were  playing  on 
the  heath. 

He  fprung,  with  extended  arms,  to- 
wards Mrs.  Barnet,  as  foon  as  he  faw  her. 

"  Why  are  you  not  playing  with  the  other 
children  ?"  faid  ihe. 

"  Becaufe,"  faid  he,  "  you  promifed  to 
come  and  fee  me,  and  I  have  watched  for* 
you  ever  fmce." 

"  That  he  has,  indeed,  madam,"  faid  the 
old  woman,  who  came  out  of  the  hovel, 
when  fhe  faw  the  carriage  Hop ;  "  he  has 

been 


EDWARD.  19 

been  conftantly  on  the  look-out  from  morn- 
ing to  night,  although  I  told  him — '*  Youfiily 
fool,"  faid  I,  "  do  you  think  that  that  there 
fine  lady  will  take  the  trouble  to  come  to  fee 
fuch  a  poor  little  wretch  as  you— and  what 
does  your  ladyfhip  think  he  anfwered  ?" — 

"  What  did  he  anfwer?"  laid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Yes,  I  do  think  it,"  fays  he;  "  for  {he 
promifed  to  do  fo,"  faid  he,  "  and  the  par- 
fon  of  the  workhoufe  fchool  told  us,  that 
good  folks  always  kept  their  promife,"  fays 
he.  tc  And  I  am  fure,"  continued  the  old 
woman,  "  that  your  ladyfhip  always  will, 
particularly  to  me,  whereof  your  ladyfliip 
muft  remember  that  you  promifed  to  re- 
ward me,  if  fo  be  I  treated  this  boy  kindly, 
which  God  he  knows  I  have  done,  as  in 
duty  bound.'* 

*'  Have  you  had  any  breakfaft,  my  dear?" 
faid  Mrs.  Barnet  to  the  boy. 

"  I  was  juft  going  to  give  him  fome," 
anfwered  the  old  woman,  "  when  your 
ladymip  arrived. — Was  I  not,  child  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  faid  the  boy. 

c  2  «  He 


«o  EDWARD. 

"  He  does  not  underftand  politenefs  as 
yet,  pleafe  your  ladyfhip,"  faid  the  old 
woman;  "  but  I  will  foon  teach  him  in 
time;  for  indeed  I  was  juft  going  to  give 
him  fome  breakfaft,  as  in  duty  bound.'* 

Mrs.  Barnet  continued  to  talk  with  the 
boy  for  a  confiderabie  time,  and  was  high- 
ly pleafed  with  all  he  faid.  She  then  gave 
fome  money  to  the  woman,  repeating  her 
injunctions,  "  that  fhe  fhould  be  careful  and 
attentive  to  the  boy;"  and  now,  "  my  dear, 
here  is  fomething  for  you,1*  added  (he;  pre- 
ienting  him  with  a  large  fweet-cake. 

"  Are  you  going  away  already  ?"  faid  the 
boy,  with  a  forrowful  look. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  I  muft  go,1'  replied  £he. 

"  There,"  faid  the  boy,  giving  the  cake 
to  the  old  woman,  "  you  may  divide  that 
among  the  children." 

"  Firft  take  fome  yourfelf,"  rejoined  the 
old  woman ;  tearing  off  a  piece,  and  offer- 
ing it  to  the  boy. 

"  No,"  faid  he;  "I  do  not  like  it  now" 

"  You  cannot  choofe  but  like  it,"  faid  fhe, 
taking  a  large  bite  of  the  cake  herfelf. 

"  Here, 


EDWARD.  21 

"  Here,  here,"  refumed  fhe,  as  foon  as  {he 
could  articulate;  "  I  aflure  you  it  is  very 
nice,  fo  there  is  a  piece  for  you." 

"  I  cannot  eat  it  now,"  replied  he,  reject- 
ing the  cake,  and  looking  mournfully  at 
Mrs.  Earner.. 

"  I  will  come  and  fee  you  again,  my  dear," 
faid  Mrs.  Barnet,  tapping  his  cheek;  "but  I 
am  obliged  to  go  at  prefent :  pray  be  a 
good  boy." 

"  1  cannot  be  a  good  boy,"  refumed  he, 
ready  to  cry;  "  when  you  are  going  away." 

"  I  will  foon  return,"  faid  (lie,  "  but  pray 
be  good." 

"  I  will  try,"  faid  the  boy,  with  a  fob ; 
"  but  I  fear  I  cannot." 

Mrs.  Barnet  had  not  only  a  warm  bene- 
volent heart,  but  alfo  fomething  of  a  warm 
imagination.  The  accidental  manner  in 
which  fhe  had  met  with  this  boy,  and  the 
fudden  and  growing  intereft  which  his  ap- 
pearance, behaviour,  and  forlorn  condition 
created  in  her  breaft,  fhe  confidered  as  the 
impulfe  of  Providence  urging  her  to  fave  a 
tine  boy  from  vice,  infamy,  and  ruin. 

c  3  Fraught 


32  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

Fraught  with  this  idea,  fhe  returned  to 
her  own  houfe  a  little  before  her  hufband 
arofe ;  and  by  the  time  he  was  drefled,  fhe 
had  every  thing  arranged  for  his  breakfaft. 

Mr.  Barnet  entered  the  parlour  with  a 
newfpaper  in  his  hand,  and  what  was  fel- 
dom  the  cafe,  with  a  cheerful  countenance. 

"  I  fancy  you  have  good  news  to  com-' 
municate,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Why,  yes,"  faid  he;  "  I  find  flocks  have 
rifea  one  and  a  half  per  cent,  by  which  I 
fruli  gain  a  pretty  round  fum." 

"  1  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  faid  fhe,  prefent- 
ing  him  with  a  bafon  of  tea. 

'*  I  do  not  fee  why  we  fhould  not  have 
a  difii  of  john-dorys  for  dinner  to-day,  let 
them  coft  what  they  will,"  refumed  he. 

"  You  fhall  have  it,  my  dear,"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet ;  "  Til  give  orders  about  it  diredly." 

While  Mrs.  Barnet  was  giving  the  orders, 
her  hufband  helped  himfelf  very  plentifully 
to  the  toad,  which  he  found  buttered  to  his 
tafte. — He  continued  to  eat,  with  every  ap- 
pearance of  fatisfadion,  for  a  confiderable 
time  after  his  wife  returned ;  and  when  he 
could  eat  no  more,  he  prefented  her  a  plate 
*8  of 


EDWARD.  23 

of  toaft,  with  his  ufual  phrafe  on  like  oc- 
cafions — "  1  really  wtfb  you  'would  eat  a 
little  bit  yoiirfelf,  my  dear" 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet, 
"  for  I  rejoice  to  fee  you  look  fo  cheerful 
and  well  this  morning." 

"  Why  truly,"  faid  he,  ftroking  his 
belly,  u  I  do  feel  myfelf  pretty  comfortable." 

Mrs,  Barnet  thinking  this  the  lucky  mo- 
ment for  renaming  the  ftory  of  the  poor 
boy — defcribed  his  fine  looks  and  helplefs 
condition  in  fuch  eloquent  and  pathetic 
terms,  that  her  hufband,  in  fpite  of  his  na- 
tural indifference  to  every  thing  which  did 
not  perfonally  regard  himfelf,  feemed  a  little 
affected. — Mrs.  Barnet  perceiving  this,  con- 
tinued : — 

"  I  do  aflure  you,  my  dear,  that  you 
never  faw  a  prettier  boy.'* 

"  I  make  no  manner  of  doubt  of  it,"  faid 
Mr.  Barnet ;  "  but  as  for  the  old  woman," 
refumed  his  wife,  "me  feemed  to  be  an 
unfeeling  creature,  and  fmelt  of  gin." 

*'  I  make  no  manner  of  doubt  of  it,"  faid 
Mr.  Barnet,  "  for  I  have  known  feveral  old 
women  fmell  of  gin." 

c  4  u I  am 


54  EDWARD. 

"  I  am  fure  (he  will  negled:  the  poor 
boy,"  refumed  fhe. 

u  Well,  my  dear,  fmce  you  are  perfuaded 
of  that,  I  think  we  muft  fend  for  the  old  wo- 
man, and  advife  her  to  take  care  of  him;  and 
1  am  willing  to  give  her  a  few  (hillings  out  of 
my  pocket  for  fo  doing  ;"  faid  Mr.  Barnet. 

"  That  would  make  her promife  to  take 
care  of  him,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet,  "  and  make 
her  appear  very  kind  to  him  when  you  or 
I  are  with  her,  but  what  will  become  of 
the  poor  child  when  we  are  not  prefent  ?" 

"  Why,  he  muft  take  his  chance,  like 
the  other  children,"  faid  the  hufband. 

"  The  other  children  have  all  feme  re- 
lation to  inquire  about  them,"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet;  "but  this  poor  boy  is  quite  deftitute 
of  relation,  friend,  or  protector.  The  poor 
creature  himfelf  told  me  that  the  only  friend 
he  ever  had,  died  laft  week." 

"  And  who   was  he  ?"  faid  Mr.  Barnet. 

"  A  poor  old  foot-man,"  replied  his  wife, 

"  And  are  you  making  all  this  fufs,  Jane, 

about  a  little  frieiidlefs  vagabond,   whom 

nobody  knows  ?"  faid  Mr,  Barnet. 

"If 


EDWARD.  25 

"  If  this  poor  boy  were  known  and  had 
friends,  he  would  not  ftand  in  need  of  our 
protection,"  replied  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  That  is  very  true,"  faid  Mr.  Barnet ; 
"  but  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  very  hard  on 
us,  to  be  the  only  protector  of  poor  friend- 
lefs  vagabond  boys." 

u  This  is  but  one  boy,"  replied  Mrs.  Bar- 
net;  "  perhaps  Providence  will  never  throw 
another  fo  particularly  in  our  way*" 

"  Why  truly,  Jane,  you  furprife  me,"  faid 
the  hufband ;  "  you  feem  to  be  as  much 
concerned  about  this  boy,  as  if  he  were  your 
own." 

"  So  would  you^  if  you  had  only  feen 
him  ;  he  is  a  moft  bewitching  little  fellow, 
and  although  he  is  fomewhat  pale  and  ema- 
ciated, I  never  in  my  life  beheld  a  boy 
with  finer  features  and  a  more  interefting 
countenance: — he  brought  to  my  remem- 
brance our  own  poor  George,  who  is  dead 
and  gone" — Here  me  burft  into  tears,  and 
was  unable  to  fpeak  for  a  few  minutes. 

"  Pray,  do  not  afflict  yourfelf  for  what 
cannot  be  helped/3  faid  Mr.  Barnet ;  "  you 

know, 


26  EDWARD. 

know,  my  dear,  we  did  all  we  could  for  George, 
and  the  apothecary  did  all  he  could  alfo ;  he 
could  not  have  prefcribed  a  greater  number 
of  draughts,  and  cordials,  and  julaps,  to  the 
only  fon  of  a  Duke;  for  his  bill  was  as  long 
as  a  fpit,  fo  there  is  no  caufe  for  forrow  or 
reflection. — And  as  for  this  hoipital  boy, 
although  he  is  nothing  to  me,  yet  fince  he 
bears  fuch  a  refemblance  to  George,  I  am 
willing  to  make  a  weekly  allowance,  out  of 
my  own  pocket,  to  the  old  woman,  to  make 
fcer  careful  of  him." 

Mrs.  Barnet  (hook  her  head. 

"  Why,  what  would  you  have  me  do  ?" 
refumed  the  hufband;  "  you  would  not  furely 
have  me  take  him  quite  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  old  woman,  and  be  at  the  whole  burden, 
pf  his  maintenance  myfelf  !" 

Mrs.  Barnet  fmiled  with  a  nod  of  aflent. 

"  Good  gracious,  my  dear!  You  do  not 
reflect,"  added  the  huiband, "  bow  ftrange  a 
thing  it  would  be  for  us  to  take  a  poor  mi- 
ferable  wretch  of  a  boy,  perhaps  the  fon 
of  a  foot-man,  under  our  care,  and  be  at  the 
whole  expence  of  maintaining  him.  I 

(hould 


EDWARD.  27 

fhould  be  glad  to  know  who  will  thank  us 
for  it?" 

"  Our  own  hearts,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  My  heart  never  thanked  me  for  any 
fuch  thing  fmce  I  was  born,"  faid  Mr.  Bar> 
net,  "  and  I  am  fure  all  our  acquaintances 
would  laugh  at  us,  and  turn  us  into  ridi- 
cule." 

"  All  the  laughters  in  the  world  cannot 
turn  benevolence  into  ridicule,"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet  j  "  and  the  narrow  minded  may  be 
hurt  to  fee  you  do  what  they  cannot  imitate  ; 
but  malice  itfelf  can  neither  prevent  the 
pleafure  which  a  charitable  action  will  af- 
ford to  your  own  breaft,  my  dear,  nor  the 
refpect  which  will  attend  it." 
•  "So  your  drift  is,"  replied  the  hufband, 
"  to  teafe  me  till  I  take  this  boy  into  my 
houfe." 

"  My  drift  has  never  been  to  teafe  you, 
but  always  to  make  you  happy,  my  dear. 
I  own  I  am  affeded  with  the  friendlefs 
condition  of  this  poor  orphan,  and  ftruck 
with  his  refemblance  to  the  child  who  was 
torn  from  us  at  the  fame  age ; — as  for  the 

poor 


28  EDWARD. 

poor  young  creature's  maintenance,  it  will 
be  a  mere  trifle  to  us,  but  of  infinite  im- 
portance to  him ;  it  may  fave  him  from 
vice,  and  the  worft  kind  of  ruin.  The 
reflection  of  having  done  fo  charitable  an 
office  to  a  lovely  boy,  like  your  own  de- 
parted fon,  would  no  doubt  afford  you 
cverlafting  fatisfaction :  but,"  continued  (he, 
perceiving  that  her  hufband  began  to  be 
affected,  "  I  defire  you  to  do  nothing  which 
is  not  prompted  by  the  generous  feelings 
of  your  own  heart;  for  of  this  I  am  certain, 
that  your  acting  up  to  them  will  ren- 
der you  more  profperous  even  in  this 
world,  and  fecure  you  a  reward  of  an  hun- 
dred fold  in  the  next." 

The  earneflnefs  of  Mrs.  Barnet's  man- 
ner, and  the  recollection  of  a  fon  whom  he 
had  loved  as  much  as  he  could  love  any 
thing,  had  already  touched  the  heart  of  the 
hufband;  and  this  laft  intimation  of  im- 
mediate profperity  and  future  reward,  found- 
ing in  his  ears  fomething  like  accumulated 
intereft  and  a  large  premium,  came  neareft 
his  feelings,  and  overcame  him  entirely. 

"  Well, 


EDWARD.  29 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  faid  he,  <c  fmce  this 
is  your  opinion,  let  the  boy  be  brought 
hither  as  foon  as  you  pleafe." 

Mrs.  Barnet  threw  her  arms  around  her 
Imfband's  neck,  and  thanked  him  with  all 
the  warmth  of  an  overflowing  and  bene- 
volent heart. 


30  EDWARD* 

CHAP.     IV. 
Grief  and  Decorum. 

A  S  it  is  not  uncommon  for  people  to  take 
an  intereft  in  a  man  for  the  fake  of 
his  wife,  the  reader  may  wifti  to  know 
fomething  of  Mr.  Barnet ;  and  how  he 
came  to  be  the  hufband  of  a  woman  whofe 
character  was  fo  eflentially  different  from 
his. — Befides,  as  it  is  generally  allowed, 
that  Nature  does  nothing  in  vain  ;  and  yet, 
if  all  Mr.  George  Barnet's  acquaintances 
had  been  put  to  the  rack,  none  of  them 
could  have  mentioned  any  utility  that  he  , 
had  ever  been  of; — in  vindication  of  Nature, 
it  is  neceflary  to  prove,  that  this  was  not 
her  work;  and  to  {hew  by  what  means  he 
came  to  be  perverted  from  a  being  who  might 
have  been  of  fome  uie  in  the  world,  into  the 
very  ufelefs  animal  he  really  was  ;  particu- 
larly, as  what  Mr.  George  Barnet  was,  of 
much  about  it, — feveral  wealthy  inhabitants 

of 


EDWARD.  3t 

of  this  metropolis,  from  fimilar  caufes,  are. 
Finally,  it  is  incumbent  on  us  to  go  a  little 
into  the  hiftory  of  the  Barnet  family,  be- 
caufe  this  is  fo  much  connected  with  the 
principal  perfon  of  this  work,  that  we  might 
have  begun  with  it,  and  never  mentioned 
the  workhoufe  boy  until  we  arrived  at  the 
time  when  Mrs.  Barnet  picked  him  up  on 
the  read,  had  we  not  always  had  an  unfur-* 
mountable  diflike  to  that  methodical  way  of 
proceeding. 

Mr.  Barnet,  the  father  of  George,  was 
originally  a  clerk  to  an  eminent  merchant 
in  the  city  of  London,  whofe  daughter  he 
fecretly  married.  Although  born  and  bred 
in  an  inferior  fphere  of  life,  and  remote 
from  the  court,  Mr.  Barnet  poflefled  fome 
of  the  moft  diftinguifhed  qualities  of  a 
courtier — a  heart  cold  and  indifferent  about 
the  happinefs  or  mifery  of  the  whole  hu- 
man race,  and  a  mind  entirely  occupied 
with  plans  for  his  own  intereft  and  ad- 
vancement. He  was  certainly  a  man  of 
Uncommon  addrefs,  for  foorr  after  his  mar- 
riage he  contrived  not  only  to  obtain  the 

forgivenefs  - 


32  EDWARD. 

forgivsnefs  but  alfo  the  friendmip  of  his 
father-in-law,  by  whom  he  was,  at  no  ad- 
vanced period  of  life,  introduced  into  fome 
profitable  branches  of  trade  j  and  fuch  was 
his  afiiduity  in  bufmefs,  and  plaufibility  of 
deportment,  that  he  was  even  raifed  to  the 
dignity  of  alderman  much  earlier  than  is 
ufual.  This  piece  of  good  fortune  feemed 
to  be  overbalanced  by  the  lofs  of  his  lady, 
xvho  died  in  confequence  of  a  cold  caught 
on  the  Thames  on  a  lord  mayor's  day, 
or  in  returning  from  the  ball  the  fame  even- 
ing ;  for  the  two  phyficians  who  attended 
her,  were  of  different  opinions  on  that  fub- 
je<3: — one  infilling  that  the  piercing  and 
jnoift  air  on  the  river  was  the  caufe  of  the 
deceafe ; — the  other  being  clear  that  it  was 
entirely  owing  to  the  night  air,  as  fhe  re- 
turned from  the  manfion-houfe^  after  being 
heated  with  dancing. 

Mr.  Barnet  was  furprifed  that  thefe  learn- 
ed gentlemen  fhould  put  fo  great  a  ftrefs  on 
a  circumftance  which  he  thought  of  little 
importance;  becaufe,  whether  fhe  caught 
her  complaint  on  land  or  water,  his  wife 
5  was 


EDWARD.  33 

was  indifputably  dead. — But  as  he  was  fa- 
tisfied,  on  the  whole,  with  the  manner  in 
xvhich  they  treated  her  complaint,  he  took 
rio  notice  of  their  difputes,  however  much 
they  furprifed  him. 

Mrs.  Barnet  was  the  intimate  friend  of  the 
then  Lady  Mayorefs,  and  attended  her  on 
that  fplendid  occafion. — Her  ladyfhip,  two 
or  three  times  during  the  ceremonies  of  that 
day,  obferved  that  Mrs.  Barnet  was  unufual- 
ly  thoughtful,  and  enquired  the  reafon.— 
The  anfwers  me  received  were  rather  evafive, 
becaufe  Mrs.  Barnet  was  at  thofe  times  an- 
ticipating in  her  imagination,  the  magnifi- 
cence of  a  future  day,  which  me  hoped  was 
at  no  great  diftance,  when  her  own  huf- 
band  being  Lord  Mayor,  me  herfelf  would 
of  courfe  be  the  principal  figure  at  the  ball. 
Few  things  could  more  ftrongly  illuftrate 
the  vanity  of  human  hopes  and  wifhes,  for 
while  this  poor  lady  was  indulging  her 
imagination  in  this  manner,  (he  had  already 
imbibed  the  feeds  of  the  difeafe  of  which 
me  died  a  few  months  after. 

VOL.  I.  D  This 


34  EDWARD. 

This  mournful  event  occurred  feveral 
years  after  the  happieft  union,  as  Mr.  Bar- 
net  aflerted,  that  ever  had  exifled  between 
man  and  wife. 

This  aflertion,  it  is  true,  did  not  quite 
accord  with  the  obfervation  of  fome  of 
their  acquaintance,  who  pretend  to  have  been 
witnefles  to  frequent  fcenes  of  (harp  alterca- 
tion between  this  happy  couple. — Mr.  Bar- 
net,  however,  maintained,  that  thefe  fcenes 
were  merely  jocular,  and  never  took  place, 
except  when  fomebody  was  prefent  j  but  that 
when  his  wife  and  he  were  by  themfelves, 
they  never  had  a  difpute,  not  even  in  jeft. 

At  the  time  that  Mr.  Barnet  loft  his  lady, 
he  was  fo  much  engrofied  by  bufinefs,  that 
it  was  highly  inconvenient  for  him  to.  give 
way  to  the  emotions  of  grief;  yet  being  a 
man  of  flrict  decorum,  he  thought  it  becom- 
ing to  feqnefter  himfelf,  for  a  certain  period, 
from  the  Royal  Exchange,  or  from  tranf- 
acling  bufinefs  in  public. — The  period  he 
fixed  upon  was  two  months,  both  becaufe 
he  thought  it  of  a  decent  length,  and  becaufe 
fuch  an  interval  of  afflictive  retirement  was 

favourable 


EDWARD.  35 

favourable  for  the  examination  of  his  ledgers, 
journals,  and  accounts,  and  the  general 
arrangements  of  his  affairs. 

He  might  poffibly  have  extended  the 
term  of  his  forrow  ftill  further,  had  he  not 
known  that  an  increafe  of  the  royal  family 
was  expected  about  that  period;  and  he 
Imagined  that  it  would  have  the  appearance 
of  diiaffection,  for  a  man  like  him,  in  a  pub- 
lic capacity,  to  feem  fad,  when  it  was  the 
the  duty  of  every  loyal  fubjed  to  rejoice. 

About  a  week  after  the  time  fixed  upon 
for  the  period  of  Mr.  Barnet's  forrow,  this 
happy  event  took  place,  and  he  joined  with- 
out fcruple  in  the  public  demonstrations  of 


This  occafion  of  general  joy  was  follow- 
ed by  one  particularly  gratifying  to  Mr. 
Earner,  for  being  of  the  deputation  which 
carried  the  congratulatory  addrefs  to  St. 
James's,  he  had  the  honour  of  knight- 
hood conferred  on  him  ;  immediately  after 
Xvhich  he  retired  for  a  week  to  his  houfe  in 
the  country,  as  if  it  were  to  give  frefh  vent 
to  his  forrow  for  his  late  lofs,  or  to  avoid 
D  2  the 


36  EDWARD. 

the  imputation  of  an  oftentatious  fondnefs 
of  his  new  dignity. — If  the  laft  was  his  rea- 
fon,  it  was  in  fome  meafure  defeated  ;  for 
the  curate  of  the  parifh  where  Sir  Robert's 
country  refidence  was,  having  deferred  the 
lady's  funeral  fermon  until  her  hufband 
could  have  the  pleafure  of  hearing  it,  de- 
clared from  the  pulpit,  after  enumerating 
the  virtues  of  the  deceafed,  that  the  honour 
conferred  on  her  hufband  was  a  juft  reward 
for  the  exemplary  forrow  he  had  manifefted 
for  the  lofs  of  fo  deferving  a  lady. 

Some  years  previous  to  this,  Sir  Robert 
had  loft  his  father-in-law,  whofe  relicl:  had 
been  fo  enraged  at  her  daughter's  marriage 
with  a  perfon  in  the  fituation  of  a  clerk, 
that  it  was  not  in  her  hufband's  power  to 
prevail  on  her  to  behave  with  any  appear- 
ance of  kiridnefs  to  her  daughter  from  the 
time  it  took  place.  She  never  heard  the 
•name  of  Barnet  mentioned  with  pleafure, 
till  the  addition  of  Sir,  inftead  of  Mr.,  was 
put  before  it. — This  indeed  produced  a  won- 
derful change  in  the  behaviour  of  this  hi- 
therto obdurate  old  woman  j  all  that  cold 

difdain 


EDWARD.  37 

difdain  and  hardened  indignation,  which 
had  refitted  the  influence  of  maternal  affec- 
tion, and  the  intreaties  of  her  hufband,  were 
diflblved  by  the  new  dignity  of  her  fon-in- 
law,  as  ice  is  diflblved  by  the  beams  of  the 
fun.  She  now  addrefled  him  in  the  moft 
obfequious  manner,  fpoke  of  him  in  the  moft 
foothing  terms,  and  feemed  peculiarly  fond 

of  talking  of  her  dear  Sir  Robert. As  for 

the  Knight  himfelf,  he  would  have  paid  lit- 
tle regard  to  the  wavering  afFedions  of  the 
old  lady,  had  he  not  known  that  her  hnf- 
band,befides  an  ample  jointure,  had  left  her 
a  very  confiderable  fumin  the  funds,  entirely 
at  her  difpofal,  and  which  he  expected  fhe 
would  leave  to  his  children. — He  received 
her  advances  therefore,  with  more  com- 
placency than  he  would  otherwife  have 
done;  for  having  long  known  that  fhe  dif- 
liked  him,  he  had  a  fixed  averfion  to  her. 

When  the  period  which  Sir  Robert  had 
allotted  for  grief  was  over,  he  returned  to 
the  occupations  of  commerce  with  as  much 
eagernefs  as  eyer  ;  fo  that  none  but  thofe  to 
whom  he  imparted  the  fecret,  had  any  no- 
tion that  his  affliction  was  poignant. 

P3 


38  EDWARD. 


CHAP.    V. 

For  fools  are  ftubborn  in  their  way, 

As  coins  are  harden'd  by  t}\'  allay  ; 

And  obiunacy's  ne'er  fo  ftiff, 

As  when  'tis  in  a  wrong  belief.  CUTLER. 

RS.  Barnet  left  two  fon3  and  a  daugh- 
ter.  The  fons  were  at  fchool  when  their 
mother  died.  Sir  Robert  allowed  them  to 
remain  there  for  two  years,  when  the  elder 
being  exceffively  heated  with  playing  at 
cricket,  happened  to  throw  himlelf  on  the 
ground  while  damp,  in  confequence  of  which 
he  caught  a  pleurify,  of  which  he  died  in  a 
few  days,  in  fpite  of  the  moft  judicious 
treatment. 

The  old  lady  was  enraged  that  the  phyfi- 
cian  in  whom  (he  had  mcft  confidence  had 
not  been  employed ;  and  when  fhe  was  in- 
formed of  the  manner  in  which  the  boy 
had  been  treated  by  thofe  who  had  attended 
him,  (he  declared  that  he  had  been  mur- 
dered; and  advifed  Sir  Robert  to  puofecute 
9  both 


EDWARD.  39 

both  the  phyfician  and  apothecary,  coft 
what  it  might. 

Sir  Robert  obferved  in  anfwer  to  this, 
"  That  he  did  not  value  the  experice,  but  that 
it  would  be  difficult  to  prove  the  fad.1*  She 
anfwered,  "  That  nothing  would  be  more 
cafy,  becaufe  the  apothecary  acknowledged 
that  he  had  blooded  the  boy  three  times,  by 
the  phyfician's  direction,  in  the  fpace  of  two 
days ;  and  moreover  had  applied  a  blifter  to 
the  very  fide  where  the  poor  child's  pain 
was; — and  that  me  would  bring  witnefTes 
to  fwear,  that  a  large  difcharge  had  been 
produced  by  the  blifter,  and  that  they  had 
heard  the  apothecary  encouraging  him  to 
drink  plentifully  of  barley-water,  and  other 
weakening  liquors ;  which  treatment  me 
averred  was  enough  to  kill,  not  only  a 
weakly  (tripling  like  her  grandfon,  but 
Samfori  himfelf  even  when  his  hair  was 
at  the  longeft." 

Sir  Robert  replied,  "  That  he  would  not 

pretend  circumftantially  to  refute  her  rea- 

foning,  becaufe  me  had  more  ikill  in  phyfic 

than  he ;  but  ftill  he  could  not  fufpeift  that 

D  4  the 


40  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

the  doctor  or  apothecary  could  have  any  in- 
tention to  kill  his  fon,  becaufe  it  was  plainly 
their  intereft  that  he  mould  recover." 

"  Intereft,  or  not  intereft,"  cried  this  vio- 
lent old  woman,  "  it  is  certain  that  they 
drew  out  all  the  poor  child's  blood,  and  then 
poured  in  nothing  but  watery  liquors  in 
its  place;  and  laftly,  to  prevent  the  dear 
infant  from  dying  with  tolerable  eafe,  they 
had  the  cruelty  to  apply  a  monftrous  blifter 
to  his  fide* — If  you  do  not  call  this  murder, 
I  would  be  glad  to  know  what  you  are 
pleafed  to  call  it  ?" 

"  In  anfvver  to  this,"  Sir  Robert  faid,  "  I 
will  not  take  upon  me  to  call  it  any  thing  ; 
but,  I  thank  God,  I  have  more  charity,  than 
to  fufpect  men  of  committing  a  crime  by 
which  they  know  they  mud  be  out  of 
pocket;  befides,  bleeding  and  bliftering  were, 
perhaps,  the  propereft  things  that  could  be 
done  in  fuch  a  cafe." 

"  That  is  impoffible,"  replied  the  lady ; 
*'  for  they  are  contrary  to  Dr.  Trufles'  me- 
thod." 

"  What  is  his  method  2"  faid  Sir  Robert. 

"  I  will 


EDWARD.  4i 

*'  I  will  inform  you  of  his  method,"  an- 
fwered  me;  "  for  he  acquainted  me  with  it 
himfelf,  which  made  me  employ  him  ever 
lince. — He  orders  no  medicine  but  what  is 
warm  and  comfortable  to  the  flomach  ;  and 
the  regimen  he  prefcribes,  confifts  of  nou- 
rifhing  ibups  and  jellies,  which,  he  fay?, 
fupport  the  fyftem,  and  not  hot  water  and 
bleeding,  like  Doctor  Sangrado,  who  flarvcs 
his  patients." 

"  Who  is  Dodor  Sangrado  r"  faid  Sir 
Robert. 

"  I  know  nothing  farther  about  him,"  re- 
plied me,  "  for  I  never  employed  him  my- 
felf ;  but  I  fuppofe  he  is  fome  Scotch  Doctor, 
for  none  could  have  a  prejudice  in  favour 
of  ftarving,  but  thofe  who  are  accuftomed 
to  it  from  their  infancy." 

"  I  would  not  however  have  you  to  rely 
too  much  on  Dr.  Trufles'  {kill,"  refumed 
Sir  Robert;  "  for  Lady  Dumpling  died  un- 
der his  care  laft  week." 

"  Ah !  that  was  no  fault  of  Dr.  Trufles," 
faid  the  lady,  t{  but  entirely  owing  to  her 
being  ftruck  all  at  once  with  an  apoplexy, 

before 


42  EDWARD. 

before  he  had  time  to  order  any  thing  to 
fupport  the  fyftem; — but  the  Doctor's  me- 
thod was  fucceeding  fo  well  with  her,  that 
£he  was  amazingly  plump,  and  had  eat  a 
very  hearty  meal  only  an  hour  before  the 
apoplexy  feized  her." 

The  Knight  declined  reafoning  any  more 
\vith  her,  but  he  continued  determined  not 
to  begin  a  profecution,  which  he  thought 
would,  in  fpite  of  all  her  arguments,  in- 
volve him  in  expence  to  no  purpofe. 

The  old  lady  then  defired,  "  that  he 
would  at  leaft  remove  George  from  the 
fchool  where  his  brother  was  murdered  ;" 
telling  him,  "  that  there  was  an  excellent 
fchool  at  the  village  near  which  her  houfe 
in  the  country  was; — that  while  the  matter 
inftrucled  boys,  his  wife  took  care  of  girls, 
and  there  were  good  accomodations  for  both. 
She  begged  therefore  that  George  and  his 
fitter  might  be  placed  at  this  fchool,  where 
they  would  have  the  advantage  of  her  fu- 
perintending  both  their  health  and  educa- 


tion." 


Soi 


EDWARD.  43 

Sir  Robert  did  not  think  it  prudent  to 
refufe  this  requeft ;  George  and  his  filter 
were  accordingly  fent  to  this  fchool. 

It  was  well  known  that  Sir  Robert's 
earneft  defire  was  to  be  what  is  called  the 
founder  of  a  family,  and  had  deftined  al- 
moft  the  whole  of  his  fortune  to  his  eldeft 
fon.  George  was  early  informed,  that  he 
would  have  a  very  fmall  portion,  and  that 
his  figure  in  life  would  depend  in  a  great 
meafure  on  his  own  exertions ;  in  confe- 
quence  of  which,  he  did  fhew  a  defire  and 
capacity  for  improvement.  It  is  not  likely 
that  he  would  in  any  cafe  have  become  a 
prodigy  of  genius,  but  there  is  reafon  to  be- 
lieve that  if  the  elder  brother  had  lived, 
George  would  have  been  a  happier  and 
more  refpedable  man  than  he  afterwards 
turned  out  to  be. 

From  the  time  of  his  brother's  death, 
George  perceived  that  he  was  a  perfon  of 
infinitely  more  importance  than  he  had 
been  before. — He  was  now  treated  as  the 
heir  of  an  immenfe  fortune ;  he  was  in- 
formed 


44  EDWARD. 

formed  that  every  thing  was  provided  for 
him,  and  that  all  kind  of  diligence  or  exer- 
tion on  his  part  was  fuperfluous. 

Such  ideas  have  a  tendency  to  form  the 
character  at  a  more  early  period  of  life  than 
is  generally  fufpeded.  There  is  every  reafon 
to  think  that  they  palfied  the  exertions 
of  poor  George  Barnet,  and  made  him  fink 
into  •  that  indolence  from  which  he  never 
emerged. 

The  grandmother  eafily  prevailed  on 
Sir  Robert,  to  removie  him  and  his  filler  to 
the  new  fchool,  where  fhe  promifed  to  pay 
a  very  careful  attention  to  both,  but  kept 
her  promife  only  refpecting  George ;  the 
fifter  fhe  entirely  neglected,  having  taken 
a  prejudice  againft  her  from  the  moment 
fhe  was  chriftened,  and  for  this  cogent  rea- 
fon, becaufe  the  infant,  inftead  of  being 
named  Martha,  which  was  the  old  lady's 
name,  had  been  called  Catherine,  after  her 
own  mother,  againft  whom  the  grand- 
mother's indignation  ftili  exifted.  But  the 
mafter  and  miftrefs  of  this  fchool  being  peo- 
ple of  fome  fenfe  and  integrity,  paid  a  mod 
8  con- 


EDWARD.  45 

confcientious  attention  to  Catherine,  and  it 
was  owing  to  their  care,  Catherine's  docili- 
ty, and  her   grandmother's   total   neglect, 
that  the  girl  made  many  ufeful  acquire- 
ments  during  her   ftay  at  this  boarding- 
fchool.  George,  on  the  other  hand,  had  ac- 
quired nothing  during  the  three  years  he 
remained  there,  except  a  flight  knowledge- 
in  fiftiing,  by  conftant  practice  in  a  neigh- 
bouring pond ;   but  as  he  had  grown  con- 
fiderably  taller,  his    grandmother  thought 
it  time    that  he  fhould   be    removed,  and 
therefore  (he  wrote  the  following  epiftle  to 
her  fon-in-law : 

"  My  dear  Sir  Robert, 

"  I  have  the  pleafure  to  inform  you,  that 
"  our  fweet  George  is  by  far  the  moft  ac- 
"  complifhed  child  of  his  age  I  ever  knew, 
'*  and  promifes  to  be  an  ornament  to  his 
"  king  and  country. — He  has  already  learnt 
"  all  that  can  be  taught  at  the  prefent  fchool, 
"  befides  acquiring  feveral  talents  of  his 
"  own  accord,  by  the  light  of  nature. 

"  He  feems  now  to  have  a  thorough 
"  averfion  to  this  fchool;  therefore  to  keep 

"  him 


46  EDWARD. 

"  him  longer  there  might  damp  his  fpirits^  and 
"  alfo  endanger  his  health;  for  I  underftand 
"  that  feme  of  the  children  are  troubled 
"  with  worms,  which  is  a  very  infectious 
u  diftemper.  I  therefore  propofe,  with  your 
"  permiffion,  to  take  him  home  to  my  own 
"  houfe,  having  engaged  a  man  of  genius, 
"  on  moderate  terms,  as  his  tutor,  and  fitted 
"up  an  apartment  for  them,  which  has  a 
"  view  of  the  London  road,  and  will  pre- 
"  vent  the  boy  from  wearying  when  he  is 
"  at  his  ftudies. 

"  As  to  my  laft  complaint,  about  which 
<c  you  exprefs  fo  much  kind  concern,  it 
"  neither  was  a  flying  gout  as  Dr.  Hum 
"  thought  it,  nor  bilious  according  to  Dr. 
"  Flum,  but  entirely  wind,  which  is  now 
"  happily  difperfed.  Dr.  Truffles  aflures  me, 
"  that  he  knew  this  all  along,  though  he 
"  neve/*  mentioned  it  for  fear  of  alarming 
«me. 

"  My  dear  Sir  Robert,  I  hope  to  hear  by 
"  the  next  poft,  that  you  approve  of  my 
"  plan  refpedting  George  j  for  it  would  be  a 
*'  pity  to  lofe  any  more  time,  as  his  cham- 
"  bers,  as  well  as  the  man  of  genius,  are 

"  ready 


EDWARD.  47 

"  ready  prepared. — When  you  know  the 
"  terms  on  which  I  have  engaged  the  latter, 
"  you  will  own  that  I  have  got  a  great 
"  pennyworth. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  Sir  Robert, 

"  Your  ever  affectionate  mother, 
"  MARTHA  NICHOLSON." 

By  the  return  of  the  poft  ihe  received 
this  anfwer  from  Sir  Robert : 

"  Dear  Madam, 

"  Your  favour  is  before  me.  Cannot  but 
"  approve  of  your  proceedings  refpecting 
**  George,  and  am  happy  to  hear  he  is  fo 
u  accompliihed.  It  is  lucky  that  you  have 
"  made  fo  good  a  bargain  with  a  man  of 
"  genius,  which,  as  I  have  been  told,  is  a 
"  fcarce  commodity  this  fcafon. 

"  Your  old  friend  lady  Pam  called,  in 
"  her  return  from  the  magnetifmg  Doctor, 
"  to  inquire  after  you.  I  fhewed  her  your 
"  letter;  fhe  fays,  the  Doctor  has  almoft 
"  quite  cured  her  of  her  paralytic  diforder, 
"  being  able  to  play  a  little  at  loo  every 
"  evening,  only  her  daughter  is  obliged  to 
"  hold  her  cards. — She  ftrongly  recom- 

"  mends 


48  EDWARD. 

*l  mends  her  Doctor  to  you,  in  cafe  your 
<c  complaint  fhould  return  ;  for  her  Doctor 
"  aflures  her,  thac  all  windy  defeafes  pro- 
"  ceed  from  the  nervous  fyftem,  for  which, 
44  according  to  him,  animal  magnetifm  is 
"  the  only  remedy. — But  in  this  I  own  I 
*'  am  no  judge,  being  with  great  efteem, 

"  Dear  Madam, 

"  Your  dutiful  fon,  and  obedient  fervant, 
"  R.  BARNET." 

Young  Barnet  was  removed  accordingly 
from  the  fcbcol  to  his  grandmother's,  where 
he  was  treated  in  the  moft  delicate  manner, 
and  fed  with  every  dainty  of  the  feaion. 

The  chief  bufmefs  of  the  tutor  was  to 
watch  over  his  health,  accompany  him  when 
he  went  a  riming,  an  amufement  of  which 
he  became  daily  fonder,  and  fometimes  to 
ride  out  with  ]pim  on  horfeback;  but  the 
old  lady  more  frequently  chole  to  take  him 
\fi  the  chariot  when  ihe  herfelf  took  an  air- 
ing ;  and  indeed  (lie  was  for  feveral  years 
his  moft  conftant  companion,  that  he  might 
reap  the  benefit  of  her  inftructions,  and  alfo 
becaufe,  as  (he  herfelf  obferved,  her  prefence 

was 


EDWARD.  49 

was  a  moft  effectual  method  of  deterring  bad 
company  from  approaching  him. 

George  was  not  naturally  a  youth  of  a 
violent  or  a  headftrong  temper  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, he  was  rather  inclined  to  avoid  con- 
teft,  and  yield  to  refinance — Yet  the  excef- 
five  indulgence  of  his  grandmother,  and  the 
conftant  attention  paid  to  all  his  humours  by 
thofe  who  frequented  her  houfe,  gradually 
rendered  him  opinionative  and  conceited;  he 
acquired  the  habit  of  dictating,  and  at  _laft 
could  not  bear  any  difference  in  opinion. — 
Yet,  inftead  of  fupporting  his  opinions  by 
argument,  his  method  of  reafoning  was  to 
repeat  his  afTertions  when  contradicted  with 
more  force  than  he  had  made  them  at  firft : 
if,  for  example,  he  accidentally  faid,  *e  that 
his  horfe  could  trot  fourteen  miles  in  an 
hour,"  and  any  body  hinted  a  doubt,  or  ex> 
prefled  furprife,  he  immediately  aflerted, 
"  that  the  horfe  could  trot  twenty  ;"  and  the 
energy  of  his  affertions  ufually  kept  pace 
with  the  ftrength  of  the  arguments  ufed 
againft  them,  and  the  improbability  of  what 
he  himfelf  fapported. 

VOL.  I.  E 


50  EDWARD. 


CHAP.    VI. 

Eamus 
Quo  ducit  gula.  Hon.' 

A  S  Sir  Robert  Barnet's  mind  was  entire- 
ly engrofled  by  the  purfuk  of  riches,  he 
paid  little  attention  to  the  education  of  his 
fon,  but  allowed  him  to  live  with  his  grand- 
mother till  he  arrived  at  that  age  when 
he  thought  it  would  be  proper  to  inftruft 
the  young  man  in  mercantile  bufmefs.— - 
Sir  Robert  took  a  good  deal  of  pains  to  con- 
vince his  mother-in-law  of  the  propriety  of 
this  meafure,  and  at  laft  prevailed  on  her  to 
agree  to  his  leaving  her  houfe,  and  remov* 
ing  to  his  in  the  city. 

This  alteration  was  iefs  difagreeable  fof 
fome  time  to  George  than  he  expected; 
for  as  it  was  the  feafon  when  turtle  is  mofl 
plentiful,  Sir  Robert  was  in  a  courfe  of  en- 
tertaining and  being  entertained  by  his  city 
friends,  and  his  fon  was  frequently  invited 

to 


EDWARD.  51 

to  the  turtle  and  venifon  feafts  with  which 
thofe  luxurious  traders  regale  each  other. — 
George  had  {hewn  an  early  tafte  for  good 
living,  a  phrafe  which  at  prefent  implies  good 
eating.  This  tafte  was  greatly  improved  at 
his  grandmother's,  who  kept  an  excellent 
cook,  and  fpared  no  expence  on  her  table, 
where  George  heard  many  enlightened  con- 
verfations  on  the  comparative  merit  of  the 
refpective  difhes,  and  became  an  adept  both 
in  the  theory  and  practice  of  this  fcience. 

His  knowledge  of  the  beft  difhes  and  the 
tnoft  delicate  parts  of  each  di(h,  gave  him  a 
vaft  advantage  over  the  ignorant.  Theit 
blunders  were  a  fertile  fubject  of  George's 
ridicule  at  every  feaft.  He  tippM  the  wink 
to  fome  knowing  friend  as  often  as  he  per- 
ceived them  neglecting  the  delicate  bits  and 
devouring  the  coarfe;  he  never  failed  to 
give  a  bad  character  of  every  difh  he  pre- 
ferred, that  it  might  fall  to  his  own  fhare 
or  thofe  of  his  favourites ;  and  on  all  thofe 
occafions  he  looked  as  waggifh  and  ironical, 
as  the  flat  rotundity  of  his  countenance 
Would  permit.  Thus  accompliihed,  George 
E  2  was 


S2  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

was  confidered  as  a  fmart  young  mail 
by  many  of  the  guefts  during  the  feafon 
of  feftivity  and  feafting;  but  it  muft  be 
confefled  at  the  fame  time,  that  this  was  the 
-^pnly  branch  of  his  father's  bufmefs  which 
he  ever  underflcod,  or  in  which  he  had  the 
leafl  wifh  to  take  a  fhare.  Sir  Robert  how- 
ever was  at  confidcrable  pains  to  give  his 
fwi  ufeful  ideas  concerning  commerce  in 
genera],  and  his  own  in  particular — point- 
ing out  fuch  vaft  and  various  fources  of 
wealth,  as  he  thought  would  excite  avidity 
and  ftimulate  exertion : — But  as  George 
bad  been  nurfed  from  his  birth  in  the  lap 
of  affluence,  and  had  hardly  ever  felt  the 
waut  of  money,  it  was  impoffible  to  give 
him  the  fame  ardour  for  accumulating  that 
his  father  had;  befides,  his  faculties  were 
already  too  much  benumbed  with  indolence 
to  bear  trouble  or  application  of  any  kind. 
— The  young  man  was  fo  confcious  of  this 
averfion  to  bufmefs,  that  he  viewed  the 
rich  profpe£ts  which  his  father  pointed  out, 
as  Mofes  viewed  the  land  of  promife,  from 
caount  Nebc,  with  a  certitude  that  by  his 
3  own 


EDWARD.  53 

own  exertions  he   never   could  attain  the 
objecls  he  contemplated. 

In  fpite  of  Sir  Robert's  remonftrances, 
inftead  of  attending  the  counting  houfe, 
George  fpent  his  time  in  parties  to  the 
country,  or  in  lounging  at  the  public  places 
with  a  few  young  men  of  the  city,  in  whom 
the  fruits  of  their  fathers'  induftry  had  pro- 
duced no  other  effect  than  infpiring  them 
with  contempt  for  the  fource  from  which 
they  were  derived. 

Sir  Robert  had  known  young  men,  who 
from  levity  and  thoughtlefTnefs  were  care- 
Jefs  of  reputation;  others  who  difregard- 
ed  the  diftinclions  of  rank  and  titles ; 
he  had  been  acquainted  with  fome  few 
who  were  infenfible  to  the  allurements  of 
beauty.  All  thofe  difpofitions  he  thought 
extraordinary,  yet  ftill  he  could  account 
for  their  exiftence  in  the  human  breaft; 
but  that  any  man,  young  or  old,  fhoukj 
have  a  fair  profpecl:  of  acquiring  an  im-* 
menfe  fortune,  (which  in  Sir  Robert's  opi- 
nion comprehended  reputation,  honours, 
influence,  the  pofleffion  of  beauty,  and  all 
E  3  that 


\ 
54  EDWARD. 

that  is  gratifying  to  the  heart  of  man,) 
and  behold  fuch  a  profpeft  with  indifference, 
was  what  he  could  not  comprehend,  and 
he  thought  it  fo  particularly  improbable 
that  a  child  of  his  could  be  of  fuch  a  dif- 
ppfition,  that  if  he  had  ever  entertained  any 
fufpicions  of  his  wife's  infidelity  this  would 
have  confirmed  them. 

One  day,  after  having  enumerated  the  ad- 
vantages of  a  new  fpeculation  in  trade  which 
he  meditated,  and  endeavoured  to  convince 
his  fon  that  this  alone,  if  carefully  conduct- 
ed, would  prove  a  permanent  fource  of  opu- 
lence, he  added,  "  but  above  all  things  re- 
member, that  this  requires  great  alertnefs, 
activity,  and  attention  on  our  part ;  no 
fcheme  of  this  nature  can  be  rendered  fuc- 
cefsful  without  conftant  and  laborious  at- 
tention for  a  certain  time,  after  which  it 
will  go  on  of  itfelf,  with  a  moderate  in- 
fpedion — and  then,  my  boy,  we  will  enjoy 
the  fruits  of  our  labour." 

Perceiving  that  his  fon  heard  all  this  with 
little  or  no  emotion — "  Good  God  !"  cried 
he,  u  George,  are  you  awake  ?"— "  Awake," 

repeated^ 


EDWARD.  55 

repeated  George,  rubbing  his  eyes — "  I  be- 
lieve fo." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  faid  Sir  Robert, "  for  you 
look'd  as  cold  and  indifferent  as  if  you  had 
been  at  church,  or  as  if  I  had  been  repeat- 
ing one  of  the  fermons  which  parfon  Drow- 
fy  preaches  to  your  grandmother  in  the 
country." 

"  The  very  laft  fermon  I  heard  the  par- 
fon preach,"  faid  George,  "  was  fomething 
to  the  fame  purpofe.'' 

"  To  the  fame  purpofe !  How  do  you 
mean?" 

*«  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  George,  "  it  feem- 
cd  pretty  much  to  the  fame  purpofe  ;  for  the 
whole  tendency  of  his  difcourfe  was,  that 
we  ought  to  watch  and  pray,  and  labour 
without  ceafmg,  that  we  might  enjoy  a  trea- 
fure  hereafter. — And  Jack  Revel,  whom 
my  grandmother  had  coaxed  that  day  to 
church,  whifpered  in  my  ear,  That  is  as 
much  as  to  fay,  make  fure  of  Hell  while 
you  live,  and  you  will  go  to  Heaven  perhaps 
when  you  die." 

E  4  «  Jack 


56  EDWARD. 

"  Jack  Revel  is  a  worthlefs  profligate, 
and  a  fool  befides,"  cried  Sir  Robert ;  "  for 
how  can  the  acquifitioii  of  riches,  which 
makes  a  heaven  on  earth,  be  compared  to 
hell?" 

"  The  labour  of  gathering  them  would 
be  purgatory  to  me,"  anfwered  George. 

After  this  converfation  Sir  Robert  de-* 
fpaired  of  his  fon's  ever  making  any  figure 
as  a  merchant;  inftead  of  teafing  the  young 
man  and  vexing  himfelf  therefore  by  fruit- 
•  lefs  perfuafions,  he  began  to  revolve  in  his 
mind  in  what  line  of  life  his  fon  had  a 
chance  of  making  a  more  decent  appearance. 
Mr.  Quirk  his  attorney  happened  to  call 
on  Mm  while  he  was  meditating  on  the. 
fubjed  j  Sir  Robert  mentioned  it  to  him— ~ 
Mr.  Quirk  had  on  two  or  three  occafions 
been  witnefs  to  young  George's  obftinacy  in 
difpute  and  perfevefance  in  fupporting  a  bad 
caufe: "  On  this  foundation,"  he  faid,  "  there 
was  reafon  to  believe  that  the  young  gentle- 
man was  pcflefled  of  very  promifing  talents 
for  the  bar ;"  but  Sir  Robert  infifted  "  that 
George  was  by  much  too  indolent  for  that 

prp-? 


EDWARD.  57 

profeflion — and  he  feared  had  not  capacity 
fufficient  for  conducting  any  branch  of  com- 
merce ;  we  mud  therefore  think,"  added  he, 
*'  of  fome  kind  of  employment  which  will 
give  him  little  trouble  and  requires  but  a 
moderate  extent  of  capacity." 

"  You  had  beft  put  him  into  parliament 
then,"  faid  Mr.  Quirk;  "that  gives  little 
trouble,  and  has  fucceeded  wonderfully  with 
men  of  as  moderate  capacities  as  are  to  be 
met  with." 

As  feveral  examples,  ftrongly  corrobora- 
tive of  the  attorney's  aflertion,  occurred  to 
Sir  Robert  in  the  inftant,  he  feemed  to  relilh 
the  propofal,  and  invited  Mr.  Quirk  to  flay 
and  dine,  for  there  was  to  be  no  company  but 
George.  The  attorney  confented,  and  after 
dinner  Sir  Robert  aiked  his  fon  "  How  he 
ihould  like  to  be  a  Member  of  the  Houfe  of 
Commons  ?" 

On  Mr.  George's  hefitating,  Mr.  Quirk 
adjoined,  "  it  is  a  very  honourable  fituation 
for  young  men  who  have  nothing  to  do,  and 
it  requires  neither  application  nor  ftudy." 

"What 


58  EDWARD. 

"  What  does  it  require  then  ?"  faid 
George. 

'<  It  requires  money  to  purchafe  a  feat/' 
anfwered  Mr.  Quirk. 

"  Which  I  am  willing  to  advance/* 
added  Sir  Robert. 

"  I  believe  the  houfe  meets  at  the  hour  of 
dinner,"  faid  George,  "and  fome  of  the 
Members  make  defperate  long  fpeeches." 

"  The  young  gentleman's  remark  is  equal- 
ly acute  and  juft,''  rejoined  the  attorney,, 
looking  to  Sir  Robert ;  "  neverthelefs,  I  can 
allure  him,  that  any  Member  may  withdraw 
\vhen  he  is  tired,  whether  at  the  beginning,, 
middle,  or  end  of  a  fpeech.'* 

"  Are  you  abfolutely  certain  of  that  ?' 
added  Mr.  George. 

"  Abfolutely  certain,"  replied  Mr.  Quirk, 
*  otherwife  who  would  be  a  Member  of  Par- 
liament ?" 

"  Not  I,  for  one,"  anfwered  Mr.  George. 

"  You  need  be  under  no  appreh^nfion  of 
that  fort ;  for  no  fuch  ftricl  attendance  as  you 
dread  is  required,"  faid  Mr.  Quirk. 

"  I  Ihould 


EDWARD,  59 

"  I  fhpuld  be  glad  to  know  what  is  ab- 
folutely  requifite  in  a  Member  of  ParliaT 
jnent,"  faid  George, 

"  Only  that  you  fhould  be  able  to  fay 
Ay  or  No,"  faid  Sir  Robert,  a  little  angrily, 
"  Will  that  fatisfy  you  ?" 

"  Very  well,  Sir,"  replied  George,  bowing 
to  his  father ;  "  I  have  now  no  objection  to 
feeing  in  parliament.'* 


CHAP.     VII. 

Crefcit  amor  nummi,  quantum  ipfa  pecunia  crefcit. 

JUVEN. 

>TpHE  contraft  between  the  characters  o£ 
•^  the  father  and  the  fon,  however  great 
it  may  fecm,  in  all  probability  depended  on 
the  different  fituadons  in  which  they  began 
life,  and  not  on  any  great  difference  of  their 
natural  powers  or  difpofitions.  The  former 
fet  out  in  narrow  circumftances,  goaded  to 
early  exertions  by  the  apprehenfions  of 
poverty,  and  a  full  conviction  that  he 
had  nothing  to  rely  upon  but  his  per- 
fonal  diligence;  habit  rendered  application 
in  a  ihort  time  eafy,  and  the  increafing 
•wealth  which  attended  this  application  at 
laft  communicated  to  it  a  fenfe  of  pleafure. 
Whereas  the  latter,  from  the  time  of  his 
brother's  death,  knew  that  he  was  heir  to, 
an  opulent  fortune,  that  his  wants  would 
all  be  fupplied  without  any  labour  of  his 

own. 


EDWARD.  61 

own,  and  being  devoid  of  every  kind  of 
ambition,  lie  was  foon  infected  with  indo- 
lence, a  difeafe  whofe  nature  it  is  to  aug- 
ment every  moment,  and  the  more  hope- 
lefs,  becaufe,  not  being  like  many  other 
diftempers  removable  by  the  mere  efforts  of 
nature,  it  ftands  in  need  of  the  affiftance  of 
art — an  affiftant  which  in  George's  cafe  was 
never  called  in. 

In  many  particulars  the  father  and  Ton 
were  congenial,  both  being  narrow  minded 
and  felfim ;  only  the  felfilhnefs  of  the  father 
appeared  in  his  affiduous  application  to 
one  objed,  to  which  in  his  mind  all  others 
were  fubordinate,  namely,  the  accumulation 
of  wealth ;  whereas  the  felfimnefs  of  the  fon 
manifefted  itfelf  in  the  indulgence  of  eafe 
and  gratification  of  appetite  at  whatever  ex-" 
pence. 

George  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal  his 
predominant  propentities;  he  probably  found 
many  people  to  fympathize  with  him,  and 
therefore  the  pleafiires  of  the  table  formed 
a  principal  topic  of  his  converfation ;  but  a 
fpirit  of  covetoumefs  is  fo  odious  and  un- 

fociable, 


62  fc  D  W  A  R  D. 

fociable,  that  nobody  dare  avow  it,  and 
Sir  Robert  endeavoured  to  conceal  the  fource 
of  his  indefatigable  grafping  as  much  as 
he  could. — He  often  declared,  "  that  he 
thought  himfelf  rich  enough,  and  that  on 
his  own  perfonal  account,  he  had  not  the 
flighted  wilh  for  more ;  but  that  he  confi- 
dered  it  as  an  indifpenfible  duty  to  provide 
liberally  for  his  children, — that  his  fort 
would  foon  marry,  and  probably  have  a 
numerous  family;  he  was  anxious  therefore 
to  fecure  a  provifion  for  them ;  that  hav- 
ing himfelf  received  an  ample  fortune  with 
his  wife,  he  owed  it  to  her  memory  to 
provide  amply  for  all  her  defcendants ;  that 
thefe  confiderations  alone  induced  him  to 
continue  the  toil  of  bufmefs,  and  remain  in 
the  fmoke  of  the  city,  at  a  time  of  life  which 
required  eafe  and  retirement,  and  when 
his  mind  had  loft  all  relifh  for  additional 
wealth." 

Thofe  and  fimilar  pretexts  deceived  no- 
body; all  Sir  Robert  Barnet's  acquaintance 
knew,  that  the  fovereign  paffion  of  his  foul 
was  the  love  of  money,  in  the  indulgence 

of 


EDWARD.  -63 

Df  which  he  confidered  himfelf,  and  himfelf 
only;  and  as  for  his  fon,  and  his  fon's  chil- 
dren who  were  not  yet  born,  he  thought  as 
little  of  them  in  his  exertions  for  wealth 
as  they  did  of  him. 

It  is  curious  to  obferve  the  various  malks 
under  which  men  endeavour  to  conceal  the- 
odious  features  of  permanent  or  increafing 
avarice — yet  they  impofe  on  none,  but 
thofe  who  ufe  them  :  We  are  all  fufficiently 
fliarp-fighted  to  fee  through  the  flimfy  veils, 
under  which  our  neighbours  endeavour  to 
hide  what  is  unamiable  in  their  difpofnions.; 
yet  we  are  weak  enough  to  imagine,  that  the 
fame  piece  of  old  tattered  gauze,  when 
thrown  over  our  own  foibles,  will  be  im- 
pervious to  the  eyes  of  all  mankind. 

The  favourite  wi(h  of  Sir  Robert's  heart 
had  once  been  to  increafe  his  fortune  to  a 
plum,— r"  If  I  were  worth  a  hundred  thou- 
fand  pounds,"  faid  he,  "  I  fhould  be  fatis- 
fied."  When  he  had  acquired  this  however, 
he  felt  the  fame  ardent  defire  for  two  hun- 
dred thoufand  pounds  that  he  formerly  had 
for  one  v  for,  thought  he,  "  if  I  were  once 
*  4  worth 


64  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

worth  two  plums,   I  could   foon   make  a 
third." 

A  new  fource  of  covetoufnefs  and  dif- 
content  fprung  up  in  the  mind  of  Sir  Ro- 
bert about  this  time. 

Curtaj  nefcio  quid  Temper  abeft  reJ. 

An  old  friend  of  his,  who  let  out  in  life 
at  the  fame  time  with  himfelf,  but  remained 
in  very  confined  circumftances  feveral  years 
after  Sir  Robert  was  in  affluence,  returned 
about  this  time  from  the  Eaft  Indies ;  he 
lived  in  great  fplendor,  and  was  reputed  to 
be  worth  above  two  hundred  thoufand 
pounds — That  a  man,  whom  he  had  known 
fo  much  poorer  than  himfelf,  fhould  in  the 
fpace  of  a  few  years  acquire  more  money 
than  he  had  been  able  to  do  in  the  courfe  of 
many,  was  a  reflection  which  deprived  Sir 
Robert  of  all  fatisfacHon  from  the  great 
fortune  he  himfeif  pofleffed,  and  imbittered 
all  his  enjoyments. 

"  All  this  availeth  me  nothing,"  faid 
Haman  the  favourite  of  Ahafuerus,  "  fo.long 
as  I  fee  Mordecai  the  Jew  fitting  at  the 

King's  gate." 

"  My 


EDWARD.  6c 

3 
*'  My  .hundred  thoufand  pounds  availeth 

me  nothing,"  thought  Sir  Robert  Bamet, 
"  as  long  as  this  curfed  old  friend  of  mine 
has  double  that  fum." 

^_  _  -|      A  ff       \      '  ' 

Two  hundred  thoufand  pounds  at  leaft, 
and  as  much  more  as  he  could,  was  .Sir 
Robert  therefore  bent  upon  acquiring,  and 
he  fet  about  it  as  eagerly  as  he  had  done  at 
the  beginning  of  life.  His  efforts  were  for 
fome  time  fuccefsful,  which  redoubled  his 
ardour,  in  the  midft  of  which,  he  made  an 
imprudent  pufh,  and,  inftead  of  raifing  his 
fortune  to  two  hundred  thoufand  pounds,  it 
was  funk  to  ninety  thoufand  j — a  fum  which 
appeared  downright  poverty  in  his  eyes. 

Sir  Robert  Barnet's  voyage  through  life 
had  hitherto  been  remarkably  profperous ; 
wary  and  cautious  at  the  outfet,  he  had 
carefully  fhunned  the  rocks  and  quickfands 
on  which  lefs  prudent  adventurers  ftrike. 
But  when  he  feemed  to  enjoy  a  very  fa- 
vourable gale,  he  was  unexpectedly  driven 
back  by  an  adverfe  guft  to  a  greater  diftance 
from  the  port  he  aimed  at  than  he  had 
been  for  feveral  years. 

VOL.  i.  F  His 


66  EDWARD. 

His  mind  xvas  unable  to  fuftain  the  fhock 
of  fuch  an  unexpe&ed  reverfe  of  fortune. 

Had  Sir  Rpbert  been  lefs  uniformly  pro- 
fperous,  had  fortune  dealt  her  favours  to 
him  with  a  more  fparing  ^and,  had  he  been 
more  accuftomed  to  checks  and  reverfes, 
it  is  probable  that  he  would  either  have  ob- 
viated his  prefent  misfortune,  or  been  able- 
to  fupport  it  with  greater  firmnefs. 

The  fame  man  who  could  not  bear  the 
Jdea  of  being  worth  only  ninety  thoufand 
pounds,  becaufe  he  had  once  poflefTed  above 
one  hundred  thoufand  pounds,  would  have 
lived  tolerably  fatisfied,  with  twenty  thou- 
fand or  much  lefs,  if  he  had  never  poflefled 
more. — The  original  caufe  of  Sir  Robert's 
dejection  of  fpirits  therefore  was,  rather 
that  he  had  at  one  time  acquired  too  much, 
than  that  he  was  ever  reduced  to  too  little. 
He  never  recovered  his  fpirits  after  this 
accident,  and  died  in  a  ihort  time  of  what 
was  called  a  nervous  fever. 


EDWARD.  67 


CHAP.    VHL 

Sedulitas  autem  ftulte  quern  diiigit  urget.  HOR  , 

E  old  lady  bore  the  death  of  Sir  Robert 
with  the  fame  degree  of  real  concern 
that  he  had  done  that  of  his  wife. — George, 
however,  burft  into  tears  when  he  was  told 
of  his  father's  death,  and  feemed  rather  de- 
jeded  for  fome  days  after  it.  Alarmed  left 
his  health  might  fuffer,  the  old  lady  ufed 
every  means  to  comfort  him  and  difpel  his 
affliction ; — alluring  him  that  the  natural 
tendency  of  grief  was  to  injure  the  health 
of  the  living,  without  being  of  any  fervice 
to  the  dead ;  and  that  although  he  were  to 
grieve  himfelf  into  a  confumption,  his  father 
would  after  all  remain  as  dead  as  before. 
Whether  it  was  the  force  or  novelty  of  this 
argument  that  fupported  him,  certain  it 
is  that  George's  health  did  not  greatly 
fuffer  by  his  affliction,  which  diminished 
liis  appetite  fo  little,  that  a  very  fhort  time 
F  2  after 


68  ED  W  A  R  D. 

after  his  father's  death  he  had  a  fevere  fit 
of  indigeftion  from  eating  too  plentifully  of 
turtle. 

His  grandmother  imputed  this  indifpofi- 
tion  to  a  glafs  of  water  which,  with  the  rafh- 
nefs  natural  to  youth,  fhe  {aid  he  had  drank 
in  the  time  of  dinner. — George  himfelf  ex- 
prefled  fome  fufpicions  againft  the  turtle ; — 
but  the  old  lady  vindicated  the  animal's 
character  -with  all  the  ardour  of  affection, 
afferting  its  innocence  not  only  from  her 
own  experience  but  on  the  authority  of 
Dr.  Truffle,  who  thought  it  a  great  fup- 
porter  of  the  fyftem, — and  that  no  fup- 
pofable  quantity  of  that  dim  received  into 
the  fiomach  could  prove  mortal,  of  which 
many  refpedlable  perfons  of  her  acquaint- 
ance, ftill  alive,  were  fufficient  evidence. — 
Whatever  was  the  caufe  of  his  diforder, 
George  was  in  fo  much  diftrefs,  that  Dr. 
Truffle  was  fent  for ;  and  had  he  not  hap- 
pened to  be  otherwife  engaged,  very  pof- 
fibly  the  hiftory  of  Mr.  Barnet  would 
have  terminated  at  this  place. — Whether 
the  reader  would  have  confidered  this  as 
a  fortunate  circumftance  for  himfelf,  or 

not, 


EDWARD.  6g 

not,  it  certainly  was  lucky  for  George 
that  a  phyfician  of  very  different  notions 
from  Dr.  Truffle  attended  him ;  his  grand- 
mother fhewing  infinite  concern  for  the 
young  man,  and  fuperintending  the  admi- 
niftration  of  every  remedy,  without  excep- 
tion. But  all  her  tendernefs  could  not  make 
her  refrain  from  giving  frequent  hints  that 
he  had  brought  it  on  himfelf  by  that  im- 
prudent draught  of  cold  water;  and  the 
wretched  patient  fuffered  little  lefs  from 
the  teazing  of  the  old  lady,  than  from  the 
pain  of  his  bowels. 

The  phyfician  made  his  fecond  vifit,  while 
this  perfevering  old  woman  was  expatiat- 
ing on  the  mifchievous  effects  of  cold  water, 
and  the  wilfulnefs  of  thofe  who  ufe  it. — 
"  But  here  comes  the  doctor,"  cried  fhe, 
"  he  will  confirm  all  I  have  been  faying." 
"  Pray  doctor,"  continued  fhe,  "  is  it  not 
highly  imprudent  to  drink  raw,  cold,  windy, 
unwholefome  liquors  at  dinner." 

"  I  fhould  think  fo,"  replied  the  doftor, 
"  and  at  fupper  equally  fo." 

p  3  "Do 


70  EDWARD. 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  ray  dear,"  faid  fTie^ 
addreffing  herfelf  to  George,  who  was  too 
uneafy  at  the  moment  to  make  any  reply  ? 
Then  turning  to  the  phyfician,.  fhe  rejoined, 
"  and  is  it  not  moft  dangerous  to  begin  to 
take  fuch  drinks  before  the  ftomach  is  ha- 
bituated to  them." 

"  I  fufpeft  that  moft  people  are  rafh 
enough  to  begin  things  before  they  arc 
habituated  to  them,"  replied  the  doctor, 
fin  il  ing. 

tf  Ay  !  doftor,  you  may  langh,"  faid  the 
old  lady,  "  fmce  you  and  your  brethren 
reap  the  benefit  of  thofe  people's  raflinefe 
and  folly :  But  is  it  not  your  ferious  opinion 
that  cold,  windy,  pernicious  liquors  are 
peculiarly  improper  for  a  young  man  like 
my  gracdfon  r" 

"  I  fliould  think  fuch  liquors  as  you  de- 
fcribe  improper  for  young,  old,  and  middle- 
aged,  madam,"  faid  ,the  doctor. 

"  But  efpeciaHy  for  men  of  fortune  like  my 
grandfon,"  refumed  the  lady,  "  who  have  all 
the  comforts  of  life  at  command,  and  who  be- 
ing young  may  expect  to  enjoy  them  long. 
Your  poor  beggarly  people  may  do  as  they 

pleafe. 


E  t>  \V  A  R  IX  71 

pleafe,  for  they  have  nothing  to  lofe ;  but  for 
tmein  my  grandfon's  circumftances  to  throw 
away  his  life  in  fuch  a  manner  is  quite  ;n- 
excufable." 

41  For  when  once  his  life  is  thrown  away/' 
added  the  doctor,  "  he  will  be  reduced  to 
the  fame  circumftances  with  the  poor." 

*'  Ah!  fo  we  are  told,"  faid  throld  lady 
with  a  figh,  "  and  a  very  hard  thing  it  is.'* 
"  But  do  you  not  think  that  there  may  be 
fome  difference  made,"  continued  Ihe,  "be- 
tween the  better  fort  of  people  and  the  in- 
ferior orders  after  all,  doctor  ?  for  if  they 
are  put  exactly  on  the  fame  footing,  the  rich 
will  be  more  feverely  dealt  with." 

"  How  fo?"  faid  the  dodor. 

"  Becaufe,"  replied  fne,  "  the  poor  have 
always  been  accuftomed  to  hardfhips;  and 
ill  ufage  of  any  kind  would  be  a  much  flight- 
er  punifhment  to  them,  than  to  the  rich, 
\vho  have  been  ufed  to  comforts  all  their 
lives." 

"  That  does  make  a  difference,"  rejoined 

the  doctor,  "  and  there  will  be  a  difference 

after  death  alfo,  madam  ;  for  the  rich  will 

£  have 


71  EDWARD. 

have  more  magnificent  funerals,  and  much 
more  comfortable  graves." 

"  That,  is  but  cold  comfort,"  replied  the 
old  lady  with  a  forrowfulface :  "  But.  you 
hear  what  he  has  faid,"  continued  fhe,  turn- 
ing to  her  grandfon,  "  and  if  you  do  not 
profit  by  it,  it  is  neither  his  fault  nor  mine." 
"  I  neither  blame  him  nor  you,"  replied 
George,  with  a  look  of  anguim;  "  but  I 
muft  beg  that  you  will  both  leave  the  room 
for  a  few  minutes." 

Mr.  Barnet  foon  recovered  from  this  com- 
plaint ;  and  although  in  the  courfe  of  his  life 
he  had  many  attacks  of  the  fame  nature,  he 
never  after  could  impute  them  to  the  fame 
caufe,  for  he  never  ventured  on  another 
glafs  of  unmixed  water;  but,  by  his  grand- 
mother's   direction,   always   corrected    the 
raw    and    pernicious   qualities,   which    fhe 
thought  belonged  to  that  liquid,  with  fome 
other  of  a  warmer  nature ;  and  he  continued 
to  live  with  the  old  lady,  in  a  very  comfort- 
able manner,  to  ufe  a  favourite  phrafe  of 
hers,  which  afterwards  became  a  noted  one 
of  Mr.  George's, 


E  D  \V  A  R  D.  73 


CHAP.     IX. 


A  lazy,  lolling  fort, 


Unfeen  at  church,  at  fenate,  or  at  court, 

Of  ever  little fs  loit'rers,  that  attend 

No  caufe,  no  truft,  no  duty,  and  no  friend. 

POPE. 

*  LT HOUGH  the  thread  of  this  old  lady's 
•*^  life  was  of  a  very  tough  texture,  and 
although  fhe  endeavoured  to  fpin  it  out  as 
long  as  poffible,  fhe  could  not  prevent  its 
fnapping  at  laft. 

By  her  laft  will,  fhe  left  her  whole  for- 
tune to  her  grandfon ; — notwithftanding  this 
circumftance,  he  was  uneafy  at  her  death. — 
George  was  more  than  moft  men  the  flave 
of  habit; — he  felt  fuch  a  blank  on  lofing  the 
old  lady,  as  he,  who  was  by  no  means  fer- 
tile in  refources,  was  for  fome  time  at  a  lofs 
how  to  fupply.— -Previous  to  the  death  of  his 
grandmother,  he  had  loft  fome  of  his  ac- 
quaintance ;  but  as  their  deaths  made  lefs 
alteration  in  the  routine  of  his  own  life,  and 

did 


74  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

did  not  interrupt  the  daily  return  of  what 
he  called  his  comforts,  he  forgot  them  very 
fpeedily:  whereas  now  feveral  things  on 
•which  he  put  importance  were  neglected, 
or  prefented  to  him  in  a  lefs  comfortable 
ftyle  than  formerly,  his  grief  for  the  old  lady 
was  of  courfe  more  poignant  and  durable 
than  any  thing  of  the  fame  kind  he  had 
ever  felt  before.  At  the  diflance  of  two 
complete  months  after  (he  had  been,  with 
all  due  honours,  interred,  and  when  no  idea 
of  her  exifted  in  the  memory  of  any  other 
perfon,  Mr.  George  gave  a  linking  proof 
that  a  grateful  recollection  of  her  remained 
in. his;— for  one  day  at  his  own  table,  on 
tafting  a  difli  of  ftewed  carp,  he  exclaimed 
*'  that  the  cook  had  fpoiled  it;"  adding  in  a 
forrowful  tone  of  voice*  and  with  tears  in 
liis  eyes,  "  If  my  'worthy  grandmother  wtre 
alive  ^  I  J):ould  not  be fo Jerked" 

This  oblervation,  though  directly  lev  elled 
at  the  cook,  glanced  obliquely  at  his  fifter 
Catherine,  who  then  fat  at  his  table,  and  on 
whom  he  had  devolved  the  management  of 
his  houfe  after  their  grandmother's  death. 
l  This 


EDWARD.  75 

This  young  lady  had  been  left  but  a.  very 
moderate  fortune  by  her  father;  on  his  death,, 
fhe  went  and  boarded  with  a  female  rela- 
tion.— George,  on  the  other  hand^  had  pre- 
vailed on  his  grandmother,  a  confiderable 
time  before  her  death,  to  take  an  elegant 
houfe  in  the  weft  end  of  the  town,  where 
they  lived  for  one  half  of  the  year^  and 
fpent  the  other  at  her  villa  in  the  country ; — 
he  now  invited  his  filler  to  prefide  over 
both. 

There  are  few  things  in  which  mankind 
make  greater  miftakes  than  in  the  obje&a 
in  which  they  place  their  own  happinefs, 
and  in  their  eftimate  of  the  happinefs  of 
others.— -Mifs  Barnet  was  often  confidered 
as  an  unfortunate  young  woman,  becaufe 
her  father  left  her  a  fmaHer  portion  than  her 
ought,  and  becaufe  fhe  was  not  a  favourite 
of  her  grandmother; — yet  there  is  no  doubt 
that  fhe  was  by  far  the  happieii  in  the  Bar- 
net  family. — Sir  Robert  was  quoted  as  at 
fortunate  man,  and  envied  by  half  the  city 
on  account  of  his  rapid  accumulation  of' 
wealth; — yet  this,  fo  far  from  producing. 

content. 


76  EDWARD. 

content,  only  augmented  covetoufnefs,  made 
him  unable  to  fuftaiu  the  firft  blow  of  ad- 
verfity,  and  rendered  him  the  vidim  of  de- 
ipondency.  And  his  fon  George  was  con- 
iidered  as  one  of  the  luckieft  fellows  in 
life,  becaufe  he  fucceeded  early  to  both  his 
father's  and  grandmother's  fortunes,  which, 
in  fact,  were  what  bribed  him  into  indo- 
lence, and  finally  deprived  him  of  all  that 
gives  relifh  to  exiftence. — To  a  mind  like 
that  of  George,  devoid  of  ambition  and  cu- 
riofity,  the  fpur  of  poverty  was  perhaps  the 
only  thing  which  could  have  roufed  him 
into  that  degree  of  exertion  that  is  necef- 
fary  to  render  a  man  at  all  refpettable  in 
the  eyes  of  others,  or  tolerably  happy 
in  himfelf.  Obliged  to  do  nothing,  he  ne- 
ver knew  what  to  do;  he  found  it  a  diffi- 
cult matter  to  get  through  the  day;  and  as 
this  difficulty  recurred  every  day,  life  on 
the  whole  was  rather  an  oppreffive  bufmefs 
to  him. 

In  town,  his  only  exercife  was  a  lounge 

in  Bond-ftreet,  or  a  ride  in  Hyde  Park ;  and 

his  only  bufmefs  drefling,  for  his  ride,  and 

10  afterwards 


EDWARD.  77 

afterwards  for  his  dinner.  At  one  time  he 
(hewed  fome  fondnefs  for  drefs,  and  it  was 
thought  he  would  have  become  a  fop,  but 
his  natural  and  acquired  indolence  over- 
came that  kind  of  vanity,  and  the  fatigue  of 
dreffing  became  unfupportable  to  him.  The 
happieft  part  of  his  life  was  that  which  fuc- 
ceeded  his  ride,  for  'he  had  then  generally 
an  appetite,  and  was  in  the  well-affured  hope 
of  a  good  dinner ;  but  when  he  had  quite 
fubdued  his  appetite,  having  no  tafte  for 
converfation — no  pieafure  in  reflection — 
no  curiofity  to  gratify — no  ambition  to  ex- 
cite him,  if  he  did  not  fall  afleep,  tedium 
returned,  and  exiftence  became  a  burden ; 
from  which  he  was  folhetimes  tempted 
to  feek  temporary  relief  in  the  moft  per- 
nicious of  all  palliatives,  and  was  in  danger 
of  gradually  finking  into  a  fot;  from  this 
laft  ftage  of  human  degradation  he  was 
faved  by  the  vigilant  exertions  of  his  fifter, 
who  with  infinite  addrefs  diverted  him 
from  that  kind  of  indulgence  as  often 
as  fhe  faw  him  inclined  to  it ;  and  when 
they  dined  alone,  fhe  either  had  com- 
pany engaged  early  after  dinner,  or  per- 

fuaded 


78  EDWARD. 

fuaded  him  to  accompany  her  to  Come  of 
the  theatres,  though  he  had  little  or  no  en^ 
joyment  at  the  playhoufe,  unlefs  when  a 
pantomime,  or  a  play  exceedingly  like  a 
pantomime,  was  exhibited.  He  affected  to 
have  a  tafte  for  mufic,  and  went  occafionally 
to  the  Opera,  where  he  was  extremely  apt  to 
indulge  in  a  {lumber.  Of  all  theatrical  enter- 
tainments, tumbling  and  rope-dancing  af- 
forded him  the  greateft  pleafure,  and  he  was 
allowed  to  be  a  tolerable  critic  in  both. 
He  always  had  a  regular  fupper,  for  al- 
though he  never  had  any  appetite  at  that 
meal,  he  loved  to  pick  a  bit,  merely  to  pafs 
away  the  time;  and  he  went  to  bed  from 
a  wearinefs  of  being  awake,  more  than  any 
need  of  fleep.  Such  was  Mr.  George  Bar- 
net's  life  in  town,  and  it  was  not  a  great 
deal  pleafanter  in  the  country:  he  kept 
hunters,  it  is  true,  but  having  an  early  pro- 
penfity  to  corpulency  he  found  hunting 
by  much  too  fatiguing  an  amufement; 
cock-fighting  and  horfe-racing  were  more 
to  his  tafte,  becaufe  in  thele  all  the  danger 
and  fatigue  belonged  to  his  horfes  and 

cocks; 


EDWARD.  79 

cocks  ;  yet  when  the  victories  of  the  one  or 
the  other  were  mentioned,  George  plumed 
^limfelf  as  much  as  if  he  had  won  them  ia 
perfon,  like  the  general  who  arrogates  to 
hipfelf  the  praife  of  a  fuccefsful  attack 
made,  unknown  to  him,  while  he  was  at 
Dinner  four  miles  from  the  fcene  of  action. 


So  E  D  W  A  R  P. 


C  H  A  P.     X. 

Nee  tarn  veaeris  quantum  lludiofa  culin;c. 

HOR. 

A  s  Mr.  George  Barnet's  fifter  was  more 
indulgent  to  his  humours  than  any 
body  elfe,  he  liked  her  company  better  than 
that  of  any  other  woman ;  and  he  acknow- 
ledged that  he  never  found  things  fo  com- 
fortable when  {he  was  abfent. — So  that  he 
often  prevailed  on  her  to  accompany  him 
to  hcrfe- races,  and  always  to  the  watering- 
places, — to  fome  one  or  other  of  which  he 
went  every  feafon. 

He  himfelf  ufed  to  exprefs  furprife  that 
he  mould  have  any  return  of  this  inclina- 
tion ;  "  for  I  am  no  fooner  at  any  one  of 
thefe  watering-places,"  faid  he,  "  than  in 
fpite  of  their  balls,  and  concerts,  and  lot- 
teries, I  am  fure  to  wifh  myfelf  at  one 
or  other  of  my  own  fnug  comfortable 
houfes." 

Indolence 


EDWARD.  81 

Indolence  increafing  hourly,  Mr.  Barnet 
renounced  the  delights  of  the  watering 
places,  and  determined  to  fpend  his  time 
entirely  at  his  own  houfes;  from  which  he 
feldom  went,  except  to  a  horfe-race  ;  for  he 
ftill  adhered  a  little  to  the  turf.  He  be- 
came, however,  every  day  more  capricious, 
peevifh,  and  querulous  ;  fo  that  it  required 
all  that  affection,  which,  in  fpite  of  the  op- 
pofition  of  their  characters,  his  filter  really 
had  for  him,  to  enable  her  to  live  with  him. 
fo  long  as  fhe  did  ;  and  it  is  probable  that 
fhe  would  have  loft  patience,  and  quitted 
him  foon,  even  although  the  event  I  am 
now  about  to  mention  had  never  taken 
place. 

Mr.  Temple,  a  young  clergyman,  who 
had  a  living  at  no  great  diftance  from  Mr. 
Barnet's  houfe  in  the  country,  paid  his  ad- 
dreffestoMifs  Catharine;  and  their  marriage, 
which  in  due  time  took  place,  furnifhedher 
with  a  fair  pretext  for  leaving  her  brother. 

Mrs.  Temple's  moft  intimate  friend  was 
a  young  lady  of  the  name  of  Lewis,  with 
whom  fhe  had  formed  an  acquaintance  at 

VCH.,  i.  G  the 


82  EDWARD. 

the  boarding-fchool.  Mifs  Lewis  was  niece 
to  the  miftrefs  of  the  fchool,  and  daughter 
of  a  clergyman  in  Wales,  on  whofe  death 
Mifs  Lewis  was  invited  by  her  aunt  to  live 
with  her,  of  which  invitation,  as  the  young 
lady  was  an  only  child,  and  had  loft  her 
mother  previous  to  the  death  of  her  father, 
me  accepted. 

Although  Mr.  Lewis  at  his  death  could 
not  bequeath  to  his  daughter  much  of  that 
fpecies  of  wealth  for  which  there  is  the 
moft  univerfal  demand,  he  had  been  affi- 
duous  during  his  life,  in  conveying  to  her 
another  kind  of  wealth,  in  which  he  was 
himfelf  uncommonly  opulent  j  he  had  from 
her  childhood  enriched  her  mind  with  the 
virtues  of  benevolence  and  refignntion ; 
from  nature  me  derived  an  excellent  under- 
flanding,  and  one  of  the  happieft  tempers 
in  the  world.  Mifs  Lewis  was  about  the 
fame  age  with  her  friend,  but  fhe  had  made 
greater  advances  in  fome  branches  of  know- 
ledge ;  and  Mrs.  Temple  often  mentioned 
her  to  her  hufband  in  terms  equally  affec- 
tionate and  refpeclful. 


EDWARD.  83 

Mifs  Lewis  was  invited  to  pafs  a  few 
weeks  with  the  new  married  couple,  and 
her  company  was  fo  agreeable  to  both,  that 
they  never  ceafed  importuning  the  aunt,  till 
(he  confented  to  allow  her  niece  to  fpend 
the  fummer  with  them;  a  permiflion  which, 
after  a  fhort  vifit  to  the  aunt,  was  extended 
to  the  fucceeding  autumn.  Unable  to  live 
in  the  country  by  himfelf,  Mr.  Barnet  re- 
moved to  town  earlier  than  ufual,  and  when 
there,  his  moft  agreeable  refource  was  driv- 
ing to  Mr.  Temple's  refidence  in  the  coun- 
try. 

The  air  of  affection,  content,  and  cheer- 
fulnefs,  that  Mr.  Barnet  always  found  on  the 
face  of  his  brother-in-law  and  fitter,  form- 
ed a  ftrong  contraft  with  the  expreffion  of 
thofe  countenances  he  left  behind  him  in 
town,  as  well  as  with  his  own  fenfitioas. 

Thcfe  fenfations  were  rendered  more  dif- 
agreeable,  by  fome  very  confiderabie  lofTes 
he  met  with  on  the  turf. 

Notwithflanding  all  the  weaknefs  of  her 

brother's    character,    Mrs.  Temple   had   a 

G  2  great 


84  EDWARD. 

great  affection  for  him,  and  a  very  warm 
defire  to  promote  his  happinefs,  which  (he 
imagined  could  not  be  fo  effectually  done  by 
any  means  as  by  his  marriage  with  Mifs 
Lewis  j — fhe  had  long  had  this  plan  in  her 
head,  and  often  regretted  that  her  brother 
feemed  to  be  little  affected  by  the  attractions 
of  her  friend,  who  was  a  handfbme,  as  well 
as  a  very  accomplished  woman. 

When  fhe  heard  of  her  brother's  recent 
loffes,  fhe  became  more  earned:  than  ever 
for  the  accomplifhment  of  her  plan; — fhe 
faw  that  his  affairs  would  gradually  go  in- 
to confufion,  from  the  extreme  indolence 
of  his  temper;  and  dreaded  that  he  might  be 
precipitated  into  more  expeditious  ruin  by 
gaming : — fhe  thought  thofe  evils  would  be 
prevented,  and  her  brother  fecured  in  all 
the  happinefs  of  which  he  was  fufceptible, 
by  his  marriage  with  a  woman  of  Mifs 
Lewis's  admirable  good  fenfe  and  prudence. 
It  muft  be  confeffed  that  Mrs.  Temple  on 
this  occafion  fhewed  more  folicitude  for 
her  brother's  happinefs,  than  for  her  friend's; 
but  perhaps  fhe  had  a  more  favourable  opi- 
nion 

14 


EDWARD.  8£ 

nion  of  his  character  than  the  reader  en-- 
terrains. 

She  imparted  her  fcheme  to  her  hufband, 
and  prevailed  on  him  to  aflift  her  in  the 
accomplishing  it. 

The  day  after  the  hufband  and  wife  had 
formed  this  treaty  Mr.  Barnet,  dined  with 
them — ^there  was  a  difli  of  ftewed  carp  on 
the  table,  which  Mrs,  Temple  had  taken  care 
to  have  drefled  exactly  to  her  brother's 
tafte  ;  he  eat  heartily  of  it,  and  commended 
it  very  much.  "  Ah !  fifter,"  faid  he,  «  how 
infinitely  better  drefled  this  is,  than  what  we 
once  had  at  my  table,"  referring  to  that  for- 
merly mentioned,  which  brought  his  de<- 
ceafed  grandmother  fo  pathetically  to  his 
recollection. — "  I  acknowledge  it,  brother," 
replied  Mrs.Temple,"and  could,  if  I  pleafed, 
explain  the  reafon  of  it." — She  then  turn- 
ed to  other  fubje&s,  addreffing  her  difcourfe 
to  Mifs  Lewis. 

This  was  a  point  of  too  much  importance 

•with  Mr.  Barnet,  as  his  fifter  well  knew,  for 

him  to  let  flip  without  inveftigation. — The 

G  3  fame 


86  EDWARD.- 

fame  afternoon  he  put  her  in  mind  of  her 
promife,  begging  (he  would  inform  him 
how  {he  came  by  fo  important  an  improve- 
ment. 

"  Really,  brother,"  anfwered  {he,"  I  muft 
confefs  that  I  am  obliged  to  Mifs  Lewis  for 
the  greateft  improvements  I  ever  made." 

"  Say  you  fo  ?"  cried  Barnet,  with  furprife; 
"  I  had  no  idea  that  (he  had  fo  good  a  no~ 
tion  of  cookery." 

€<  There  are  very  few  things  of  import- 
ance of  which  {he  has  not  a  good  notion," 
refumed  Mrs.  Temple.  "  Mifs  Lewis  is  cer- 
tainly a  very  accomplifhed  woman,"  added 
her  hufband. 

"  She  muft  be  an  accompliftied  woman 
indeed"  faid  Baniet; — "  it  was  without  ex- 
ception a  di£h  of  the  beft  ftewed  carp  I  ever 
tafted." 

Mrs.  Temple  obferved  with  fatisfadtion, 
after  this  converfation,  "  that  her  brother 
paid  much  more  attention  to  Mifs  Lewis 
than  he  had  ever  done  before." 

13  Having 


EDWARD.  87 

Having  a  mare  to  run  at  Epfom,  he 
thought  himfelf  obliged  to  attend  the  races 
there ;  but  he  feemed  to  leave  Mr.  Temple's 
with  regret,  and  acknowledged  that,  "  were 
he  to  indulge  his  own  tafte,  he  would  rather 
have  ftaid." 


88  EDWARD. 


CHAP.     XL 

L'  orgueil  a  plus  de  part  que  la  bonte  aux  remontrances 
que  nous  faifons  a  ceux  qui  commettent  des  fautes. 

ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

TT7HEN  the  races  were  over,  Mr.  Barnet 
returned  to  the  hotife  of  his  brother- 
in-law,  with  Mr.  Wormwood,  whom 
he  had  met  at  Epfom. — This  gentleman 
was  his  near  relation,  a  batchelor,  who  fol- 
lowed no  profeffion,  but  lived  on  the  in- 
tereft  of  his  money,  which  produced  a  mo- 
derate annual  fum,  that  he  had  no  great  de- 
fire  of  increalmg.  He  was  one  of  thofe 
men  who  are  apt  to  give  their  advice  before 
it  is  afked,  and  who  teftify  their  good  will 
to  their  friends,  by  informing  them  of  their 
failings.  Mr.  Wormwood  was  a  man  of 
knowledge  and  fenfe,  but  as  he  imagined 
that  he  poflefled  a  greater  ihare  of  both 
than  he  did  in  reality,  and  was  of  a  fatirical 

turn, 


EDWARD.  89 

turn,  the  liberality  with  which  he  beftowed 
advice  was  thought  to  proceed  fully  as  much 
from  pride,  or  indulgence  of  his  own  vein, 
as  from  benevolence.  He  had  made  a  large 
collection  of  prudential  maxims  refpecting 
the  conduct  of  life,  in  the  ufe  of  which  he 
could  not  be  accufed  of  felnfhnefs,  as  he  dif- 
tributed  them  freely  among  his  friends  and 
acquaintance,  without  deriving  much  benefit 
from  them  himfelf.  A  man  of  this  charac- 
ter, it  will  readily  be  believed,  frequently 
difobliged  thofe  he  affected  to  ferve,  and 
fometimes  loft  the  friend  he  intended  to 
warn. 

Mr.  Barnet  had  a  partiality,  however,  for 
his  coufm  Wormwood,  arid  at  this  par- 
ticular time  that  partiality  was  ftronger  in 
his  favour  than  ufual,  for  a  favourite  mare 
of  Mr.  Barnet^having  been  diftanced  at  the 
races,  by  which  he  loft  a  confiderable  fum, 
and  was  in  very  bad  humour ;  but  as  the 
owner  of  the  victorious  hone  was  a  man 
of  whom  Mrf  Wormwood  had  an  ill  opi- 
nion, he  had  gratified  his  friend  by  abufing 

this 


90  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

this   man  all  the  way  as  they  returned  to- 
gether from  Epfom. 

Mr.  Barnet  and  Wormwood  pafled  fome 
days  at  Mr.  Temple's ;  during  this  time  the 
former  paid  unufual  attention  to  Mifs  Lewis, 
and  fometimes  fpoke  in  her  praife  to  Mr. 
Wormwood.  This  did  not  efcape  Mr.  Worm- 
wood's obfervation.  While  they  walked  to- 
gether one  day  in  the  garden,  Barnet  men- 
tioned Mifs  Lewis  two  or  three  times,  and 
once  he  feemed  to  hefitate,  and  appeared 
embarrafled,  like  one  who  has  fomething  on 
his  mind  that  he  does  not  know  how  to 
communicate. 

To  fave  him  farther  trouble  or  circumlo- 
cution, Wormwood  faid,  "  I  have  a  great 
notion  you  wim  to  tell  me  that  you  are  in 
love  with  Mifs  Lewis." 

**  I  don't  know,"  faid  Mr.  Barnet,  after 
a  look  of  furprize,  "  how  you  came  by  that 
notion,  but  I  confefs  I  have  a  great  refpeft 
for  the  lady." 

<{  Yes,  yes,  no  doubt,  you  have  an  amaz- 
ing deal  of  refpect  for  her.  I  dare  be 
fworn  you  think  ib,"  faid  Wormwood. 

"If  I 


EDWARD.  91 

"  If  I  think  fo,  it  muft  be  bccaufe  it  is  fo," 
rejoined  Bar  net. 

"  I  am  not  quite  fo  certain  of  that,"  faid 
Wormwood ;  "  did  you  never  take  a  fancy 
into  your  head  that  was  without  founda- 
tion ?" 

"  Not  fuch  a  fancy  as  this ;  no  man  can 
imagine  he  is  fond  of  a  woman,  unlefs  he  be 
fond  of  her." 

44  There  you  are  quite  miftaken,  my  good 
friend  j  but  it  is  a  very  common  miftake  :  I 
have  known  men,  -who,  from  a  traniient 
glow,  a  mere  freak,  have  imagined  them- 
felves  in  love  with  women,  whom  on  re- 
flection they  hated,  as  they  found  to  be  the 
cafe  immediately  after  marrying  them." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  your  freaks  or  fud- 
den  glows,"  foid  Barnet,  "  but  I  have  a  fin- 
cere  and  well-founded  efteem.  for  Mifs 
Lewis." 

44  A  fincere  and  well-founded  efteem  !" 
repeated  Wormwood,  with  a  fneering  ac- 
cent. 

44  Yes,  to  be  fure,  I  have,"  faid  Barnet, 
angrily. 

"  Lord ! 


92  EDWARD. 

"  Lord  !  Lord !  what  fhort-fighted  ani- 
mals men  are !" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  mean,"  anfwered  Wormwood,  "  that 
it  is  a  very  common  thing  for  good-na- 
tured men  to  be  miftaken,"  replied  Worm- 
wood. 

"  Ay,  and  for  ill-natured  men  alfo,  let  me 
tell  you  that,"  rejoined  Barnet. 

"  You  are  right,  my  good  friend,"  faid 
Wormwood,  "  Men  of  all  defcriptions  are 
liable  to  miftake.s  j  but  the  greateft  of  all  mif- 
takes  is,  for  a  plain  worthy  man  to  fancy 
he  is  in  love,  when  he  is  no  fuch  thing." 

"  May  not  a  plain  worthy  man  be  iu  love 
as  well  as  another  ?"  Barnet  afked. 

"  Not  all  plain  worthy  men,"  anfwered 
Wormwood. 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Becaufe  fome  very  plain  worthy  men 
are  not  fufceptible  of  the  paffion  ;  and  you, 
my  good  friend,  are  of  the  number.0 

"  Not  fufceptible  of  love  !"  repeated  Bar- 
net. 

"Not 


EDWARD.  93 

"  Not  of  the  kind  of  love  now  in  quef- 
tion,"  replied  Wormwood,  with  the  utmoft 
gravity.  "  I  well  know,  my  worthy  friend, 
that  there  is  another  fpecies  of  the  fame 
paffion  to  which  you  have  very  great  fuf- 
ceptibility ;  indeed  no  man,  I  will  venture  to 
affirm,  was  ever  more  in  love  with  ftewed 
carp  ;  or  could  ihew  more  partiality  to  turtle, 
or  to  venifon  when  in  feafon — for  as  the 
wife  man  fays,  and  as  I  have  often  heard 
you  repeat,  there  is  a  feafon  for  every 
thing;  for  venifon  and  turtle,  as  well  as 
for  green  peafe  and  oyfters :  but  our  love 
for  fuch  objeds,  however  amiable  in  them- 
felves,  is  of  a  different  nature  from  what  we 
have  for  the  fair  fex — and  believe  me,  my 
dear  Barnet,  this  whim  which  you  have 
taken  up  about  Mifs  Lewis,  amounts  to  no- 
thing like  the  paffion  of  love  properly  fo 
fo  called." 

"  You  think  not?"  faid  Barnet. 

"  I  am  fure  of  it,"  replied  Wormwood, 
*c  and  befides,  if  you  were  as  much  in  love 
as  you  imagine,  and  could  perfuade  the  lady 
to  become  your  wife,  it  would  be  as  un- 
lucky for  her  as  for  you." 

«  Why 


94  EDWARD. 

"  Why  do  you  think  fo  ?"  faid  Earner. 

"  Becaufe  you  are  not  fuited  to  each 
other — your  characters  are  oppofite." 

"  In  what  refpeft  ?" 

"  In  ail  refpe&s;  yourtaftes  are  quite  dif- 
ferent: the  lady,  I  underftand,  loves  reading ; 
flie  feems  to  be  a  woman  of  reflection  ;  it  is 
well  known  that  you  hate  every  thing  of 
that  kind.  Befides,  Mifs  Lewis  is  a  woman 

of  a  very  clear  underftanding ." 

"  Well,  what  then?"  cried  Barnet,  in  a  rage. 

"  O  !  I  aik  your  pardon,7'  replied  Worm- 
wood, recollecting himfelf;  "I  did  not  mean 
any  thing  ofFenfive,  quite  the  contrary  ; 
your  underftanding  is  in  fome  things  clear 
alfo  ;  but  neverthelefs  your  underftanding  is 
very  different  from  hers,  and  they  never 
wonld  blend  together." 

"  You  really  think  fo  ?"  faid  Barnet. 

"  Really  and  truly,"  anfwered  the  other; 
"  for,  independent  of  the  oppofition  in  your 
taftes  in  general,  you  cannot  but  be  fenfiWe 
that  you  have  a  thoufand  little  whims  and 
peculiarities,  which  your  fervants  are  obliged 
to  iubmit  to,  and  which  your  fifter  was  fo 
obliging  as  to  bear,  yet  no  woman  of 

fenfe 


EDWARD.  95- 

fenfe  and  fpirit  could  endure  ;  and  none  but 
a.  fincere  friend  like  me  would  inform  you 
of." 

"  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you,"  faid  Bar- 
net,  bowing  very  low. 

"  You  will  be  obliged  to  me,  if  what  I 
have  urged  convinces  you  of  your  miftake 
as  to  being  in  love;  and  make  you  refolve 
never  to  think  of  a  wife,  but  to  die  an  old 
batchelor." 

"  An  old  batchelor !  I'll  be  damned  be- 
fore I  die  an  old  batchelor,"  cried  Barnet 
with  indignation. 

"  I  am  of  a  different  opinion,"  anfwered 
Wormwood,  with  coolnefs  ;  "  I  imagine 
you  will  die  an  old  batchelor  before  you  are 
damned." 

"  I  deteft  old  batchelors,"  refumed  Barnet. 
— "  That  curfed  fellow,  whofe  horfe  dif- 
tanced  my  mare,  is  a  very  old  batchelor; 
damn  him,  and  his  horfe  alfo," 

"  Let  us  preferve  reafon  in  our  rage,  my 
worthy  friend,"  faid  Wormwood ;  "  inftead 
of  damning  the  horfe,  if  you  follow  my 
advice,  you'll  purchafe  him ;  and  as  for  the 

man, 


96  EDWARD. 

man,  you  may  truft  that  bufmefs  to  himfelf; 
but  although  you  fliould  hate  him,  pray 
hate  him  for  fomething  elfe,  and  not  for 
being  of  a  clafs  to  which  you  yourfelf  will 
belong." 

"  Never,  never,"  cried  Barnet. 

"  Well,  I  am  convinced  it  will  be  fo,  and 
that  this  whim  of  your  being  fond  of  Mifs 
Lewis  will  foon  pafs  away;  at  any  rate  I 
have  performed  the  duty  of  a  relation  and 
friend.'*  So  faying,  Mr.  Wormwood  went 
into  the  houfe,  leaving  Mr.  Barnet  in  the 
garden. 


EDWARD.  97 


CHAP.    XII. 

Je  veux  une  femme  indulgent?, 

Dont  la  beaute  douce  et  compatiffante, 

A  mes  defauts  facile  a  fe  plier, 

Daigne  avec  moi  me  reconcilier, 

Me  corriger,  fans  prendre  un  ton  cauftique. 

Me  gouverner,  fans  etre  tyrannique, 

Et  dans  mon  coeur  penetrer  pas  a  pas 

Comme  un  jour  doux  dans  des  yeux  delicats. 

VOLTAIRE. 

•n  TTR.  and  Mrs.  Temple  were  walking  on 
•*•*-••  the  other  fide  of  a  hedge  in  the  gar- 
den, and  had  overheard  the  dialogue  be- 
tween Barnet  and  Wormwood; — when  it 
ceafed,  they  turned,  and  joined  the  former. 

Mr.  Temple  had  frequently  obferved  the 
effecT:  of  contradiction,  on  the  irritable  mind 
of  Barnet;  and  it  inftantly  occurred  to  him 
that  this  capricious  difpofition  might  be 
made  ufeful,  in  promoting  the  fcheme  which 
Mrs.  Temple  and  he  had  i n  view. 

"  That  wife  gentleman,"  faid  Barnet, 
pointing  after  Wormwood,  as  Mr.  and 

VOL.  I.  H 


9$  E  D  \V  A  R  D.- 

Mrs. Temple  joined  him ;  "  that  wife  and 
penetrating  gentleman,  has  taken  it  into 
his  head  that  I  fhall  be  an  old  bachelor. 

"  I  do  moft  fmcerely  hope  fo,"  faid  Mr. 
Temple. 

"  Why  fo?"  faid  Earner. 

"  Becaufe  if  you  do  not  live  to  be  an  old 
bachelor,  you  mud  die  very  foon,"  an- 
fwered  Mr.  Temple. 

"  I  fhould  be  glad  to  know  what  is  to 
hinder  me  from  marrying  to-morrow,  if  I 
pleafe,"  faid  Barnet. 

"  You  never  will  pleafe ,  brother,  take  my 
word  for  it;"  replied  Mr.  Temple. 

"  How  are  you  fo  certain  of  that,  Sir  ?" 
cried  Barnet. 

"  Why  truly,  brother,"  replied  Mr.  Tem- 
ple, "  there  are  fome  things  which  one  is 
quite  convinced  of,  without  being  able  to 
give  a  reafon  for  fo  being." 

"  Quite  convinced  !"  cried  Earner; 

"  Yes  truly,  I  may  fay  quite  convinced," 
refumed  Mr.  Temple;  "  yet  I  might  be  at 
a  lofs  to  tell  precifely  why: — But  all  your 
ways  are  the  ways  of  a  bachelor;  the  ge- 
neral 


EDWARD.  99 

neral  expreffion  of  your  countenance  indi- 
cates, I  don't  know  how,  that  you  never 
wall  have  the  courage  to  marry ;  your  drefs 
alfo  and  manner  of  walking  are  all  in  the 
ftyle  of  an  old  bachelor. 

Barnet  flared  in  Temple's  face,  which 
retained  its  gravity  with  admirable  fteadi- 
nefs  j  he  then  looked  at  his  own  legs,  and 
turning  fuddenly  to  Mrs.  Temple,  he  faid, 
"  Pray  fifter  do  you  perceive  any  thing  in 
my  face,  drefs,  or  manner  of  walking,  that 
gives  me  the  air  of  an  old  bachelor  ?" 

"  Why,  brother,"  anfwered  fhe,  "  you  are 
too  young  to  have  the  air  of  a  very  old 
bachelor;  but  I  mud  corifefs  I  have  feen 
fome  very  old  bachelors  who  had  much 
of  your  air  and  manner." 

"O!  you  have,"  cried  Barnet;  "and 
from  which  you  conclude,  no  doubt,  that  I 
ihall  be  a  bachelor  all  my  life." 

"  I  own,  brother,"  Mrs.  Temple  anfwered, 
"  that  I  think  there  is  a  probability  that 
you  will  die  before  you  marry,  but  I  do 
fmcerely  hope  you  will  live  to  be  an  old 
unmarried  man." 

H  2  «  That 


joo  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

*'  That  you  hope  I  fhall  remain  all  my 
life  unmarried,  fitter,"  refumed  Barnet 
\vith  anger,"  I  make  no  manner  of  doubt-; 
but  perhaps  you  may  find  yourfelf  rnif- 
taken,  and  fooner  than  you  think  of,  let 
me  tell  you  that" 

"  Although  that  be  your  opinion,  my 
dear  brother,  and  the  other  mine,"  replied 
Mrs.  Temple  with  meeknefs,  "  why  fhould 
this  put  you  in  a  paflion  ?" 

"  In  a  paflion,"  exclaimed  Barnet  furi- 
oufly ;  "  who  the  devil  is  in  a  paflion:" 

"  What  puts  it  into  your  head,  my  dear, 
that  your  brother  is  in  a  paflion  ?  don't  you 
fee  he  is  quite  cool?"  faid  Mr.  Temple, 
addrefling  his  wife. 

To  prove  his  coolnefs,  Barnet  began  to 
hum  a  tune:  and  then  wheeled  abruptly 
from  them  and  went  into  the  houfe,  and 
left  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Temple  to  continue  their 
walk. 

Mr.  Barnet  found  Mifs  Lewis  alone,  and 

the  anger  with  which  he  was  kindled  in- 

fpiring  him  with  courage,  he  directly  made 

her  a  propofal  of  marriage  in  a  more  ani- 

6  mated 


EDWARD.  101 

mated  manner,  and  with  a  better  grace,  than 
if  he  had  been  in  his  natural  ftate. 

As  nothing  could  be  lefs  expected,  Mifs 
Le\vis  was  thrown  into  fome  confufiori,  and 
did  not  give  fo  decided  and  peremptory  a 
refufal  as  other  wife  fhe  would  have  done. 
Barnet  preffed  his  fuit  in  a  more  manly 
ftile  than  he  had  ever  before  ufed. 

The  courtfhip  was  interrupted  by  the 
coming  of  company. 

The  fame  evening  Mifs  Lewis  informed 
her  friend  of  her  brother's  propofal,  at 
which  Mrs.  Temple  exprefled  the  greateft 
fatisfaclion,  combating  Mifs  Lewis's  objec- 
tions with  a  zeal  infpired  by  the  affection 
fhe  bore  her  brother. 

Mifs  Lewis  long  withftood  the  importu- 
nities of  her  friend  and  the  continued  ad- 
dreifes  of  Mr.  Barnet,  which  became  every 
day  more  ardent  by  the  provoking  infmu- 
ations  of  Wormwood : — At  laft,  however, 
{he  *was  prevailed  on  to  give  him  her  hand 
in  marriage,  to  the  great  joy  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Temple ;  and  Barnet  had  the  double 
fatisfaction  of  overcoming  the  lady's  re- 
H  3  fiftance, 


102  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

fiftance,  and  confuting  the  afiertions  of  his 
friends. 

Mr.  Barnet  derived  a  degree  of  refpect 
and  importance  in  the  world,  from  his 
marriage  with  a  woman  of  Mifs  Lewis's 
good  fenfe  and  agreeable  manners,  which 
his  own  character  never  would  have  pro* 
cured. 

With  infinite  addrefs,  me  gradually  wean- 
ed him  from  horfe-racing,  cock-fighting, 
every  kind  of  gaming,  and  fome  other 
fources  of  expence,  not  only  luperfluous 
but  alfo  difreptitable. — Her  chief  art  con- 
fifted  in  everlafting  good  humour,  and  in 
rendering  home  fo  comfortable  and  cheerful, 
that  he  loft  all  inclination  to  be  elfewhere, 
and  preferred  domeftic  fociety  to  thofe  ruin- 
ous habits  into  which  he  had  been  led,— — 
His  greateft  enjoyment,  however,  was  a 
good  dinner,  drefled  exactly  to  his  tafte, 
and  a  certain  quantity  of  port  wine  after 
it ;  if  any  accident  difturbed  the  regular  re- 
turn of  this  meal,  or  the  accuracy  of  his 
cookery,  a  misfortune  of  that  magnitude 
baffled  all  the  foothings  of  his  wife;  nothing 

but 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  103 

but  the  lenient  hand  of  time,  and  a  moft 
unexceptionable  dinner  the  following  day, 
could  bring  him  again  into  tolerable  tem- 
per: Mrs.  Barnet  therefore  found  that  a 
good  cook  was  the  mod  powerful  auxiliary 
{he  could  have,  in  her  grand  object  of  pro- 
moting the  happinefs  of  her  hufband;  and 
fhe  fpared  no  labour  or  expence,  until  (he 
engaged  one  more  to  his  tafte  than  any  he 
had  ever  employed  before. — In  the  ar- 
ticle of  drink  her  taik  was  much  eafier; 
for  he  drank  nothing  but  mild  ale  with  his 
victuals,  and  port  wine  after  dinner;  the 
latter  he  preferred  to  the  French  wines, 
which  he  aflerted  were  all  of  too  light  and 
too  frivolous  a  nature,  to  agree  with  an 
English  ftomach;  adding,  in  a  common 
phraie  of  his,  "  this  (lands  to  reafon." 

To  make  her  hufband  in  reality  a  man 
of  fenfe  or  benevolence,  was  not  in  Mrs. 
Barnet's  power;  but  fhe  managed  matters 
fo  as  to  make  him  frequently  appear  fuch: 
he  was  vifited  by  the  moft  refpectable  peo- 
ple in  the  county,  ceconomy  was  combined 
with  hofpitality  in  his  family,  and  he  has 
H  4  been 


104  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

been  heard  to  declare,  that  upon  the  whole 
he  lived  as  Comfortably  with  his  wife  as  he 
had  done  with  his  grandmother. 

Having  prevailed  in  the  great  point  of 
turning   her   hufband  from   habits   which 
led  to  certain  ruin,   Mrs.  Barnet  was  cau- 
tious of  interfering  with  his  taftes  or  whims 
of  a  lefs  important  nature.     As  Barnet  was 
a  man  who   acted   on   all  occafions  from 
humour,  it  was  in  the  power  of  thofe  around 
him,  to  lead  him  or  provoke  him  into  any 
meafure  they  pleafed ;   and  as  nobody  was 
fo  much  with  him  as  his  wife,  fhe  might 
have  managed  him  in  all  refpecls,  had  fhe 
thought  it  proper  or  becoming : — Yet  Mr. 
Barnet  was  fo  little  fenfible  of  this,  that  he 
valued  himfelf  on  the  fteadinefs  of  his  cha- 
racter, in  following  his  own  ideas,  and  never 
being  influenced  by  thofe  of  others-; — but 
of  all  weaknefles,  he  faid,  the  greateft  was, 
that  of  being  biafled  by  women;  and  he 
cxprefled  the  utmoft   contempt   for   thofe 
hufbands  who  are  under  petticoat  govern- 
ment, hinting  fometimes,"  that  this  was  the 
cafe  with  his  brother-in-law  j  but  that  as 

for 


EDWARD.  105 

for  himfelf,  he  was  determined,  riotwith- 
ilanding  the  regard  he  had  for  his  wife, 
never  to  permit  her  to  meddle  in  any  con- 
cern above  her  natural  fphere  and  capa- 
city." 

The  truth  was,  Mrs.  Temple  had  too  high 
an  opinion  of  her  hufband,  to  attempt  to 
govern  him  in  any  thing;  and  Mrs.  Barnet, 
who  had  no  defire  of  governing,  never  in- 
terfered unlefs  when  the  object  was  of  great 
importance. 

The  paffive  difpofition  of  Mrs.  Barnet  in 
this  particular,  was  not  approved  of  by  her 
friend  Mrs.  Temple,  who  imagined,  that  by 
a  little  more  exertion,  the  former  might 
have  turned  her  hufband  from  fome  very 
ill-ad vifed  projects,  and  this  was  fome- 
times  a  fource  of  difpute  between  the  two 
•friends. 

Several  years  after  Mr.  Barnet's  marriage, 
and  immediately  after  the  parim  boy  was 
brought  to  his  houfe,  Mrs.  Temple  blamed 
her  friend  with  more  warmth  th^n  ufual, 
for  not  endeavouring  to  put  a  flop  to  a 

project 


io6  EDWARD. 

projed  of  a  ridiculous  nature,  in  which 
Barnet  had  engaged  with  uncommon  eager- 
nefs;  and  fhe  concluded  her  remonftrance, 
by  declaring,  that  fhe  Ihould  confider  Mrs. 
Barnet  as  the  promoter  of  all  the  fooliih 
projects,  from  which  fhe  did  not  at  leaft 
endeavour  to  divert  her  hufband. 

"  How  am  I  certain  that  it  is  in  my 
power  to  divert  him  from  them?"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet;  "perhaps  the  very  attempt  might 
make  him,  more  eager  to  purfue  them,  and 
unqueftionably  would  in  the  firft  place  pro- 
duce a  difpute,  and  difputes  are  things  I 
always  ftrive  to  avoid,  particularly  with  my 
hufband;  having  often  obferved  that  they 
are  the  fources  of  ill  humour  between  mar- 
ried people,  and  fdmetimes  of  difgufl  and 
hatred.  How  do  I  know  what  degree  of 
enjoyment  he  derives  from  thofe  fchemes 
which  you  think  whimfical?  and  were  I  to 
fucceed  in  diverting  him  from  them,  am  I 
certain  of  fubftituting  others  which  to  him, 
framed  and  conftituted  as  his  mind  is,  will 
afford  him  equal  fatisfadion  or  amufement  ? 
I  am  not,  my  dear  friend,",  continued 

Mrs. 


EDWARD.  107 

Mrs.  Barnet,  "  to  make  my  particular  tafte 
or  turn  of  thought  the  rule  of  his  ;  he  has 
a  right  to  follow  the  dictates  of  his  own 
fancy,  when  it  prompts  him  to  nothing 
criminal  or  hurtful  to  others." 

"  But  this  ftrange  whim  that  he  has 
taken  about  the  houfe^  will  be  hurtful  to 
you,  my  dear,  and  to  your  daughter,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Temple  ;  "  he  has  already  thrown 
away  a  confiderable  fum  of  money  on  it, 
and  will,  if  you  do  not  interfere,  throw 
away  more  every  year." 

"  You  forget,  my  friend,"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet,  "  that  I  brought  no  fortune  to 
your  brother; — am  I  to  attempt  to  con- 
trol him  in  the  ufe  he  makes  of  his 
own  r" 

"  Yes,  certainly  you  are,"  anfwered  Mrs. 
Temple ;  "  and  if  you  remain  paffive  any 
longer,  in  my  opinion  you  neglect  what 
you  owe  to  yourfelf,  to  your  child,  and  even 
to  your  hufband." 

But  to  underftand  the  drift  of  this  con- 
verfation,  it  will  be  requifite  to  mention 
$vhat  had  pafled  previous  to  it. 


io8  E  D  W  A  R  D. 


CHAP.     XIII. 

In  nova  fert  animus  mutatas  dicere  formas 

Corpora.  Ovio. 

A  CERTAIN  houfe  carpenter,  whofe  ufual 
refidence  was  at  London,  occafionally 
vifited  a  relation  who  refided  in  the  village 
near  which  Mr.  Barnet's  houfe  flood: — 
This  carpenter  happened  to  make  a  pur- 
chafe  of  an  agreeable  piece  of  ground,  on 
which  he  built  a  houfe,  which  he  afterwards 
fold  to  very  great  advantage. 

When  Mr.  Barnet  heard  of  this,  he  felt 
fome  uneafmefs  at  the  thought  of  fo  much 
of  his  money  remaining  at  a  moderate  in- 
tereft  in  the  funds,  when  it  might  be  fo 
much  more  advantageoufly  employed,  and 
he  determined  to  follow  the  carpenter's 
example ;  for  this  purpofe  he  alfo  bought 
a  piece  of  ground,  and  procured  the  plan 
of  a  howfe,  more  than  double  the  fize  of 
the  carpenter's,  by  the  fale  of  which,  ac- 
cording 


EDWARD.  109 

cording  to  his  own  calculation,  he  expected 
to  gain  twice  as  much  as  the  carpenter 
had  done;  or  by  letting  it  at  what  he 
thought  a  reafonable  rent,  he  imagined  he 
could  not  fail  to  make  much  more  of  his 
money  than  he  received  in  the  funds. 

Barnet  had  been  ftimulated  to  this  un- 
dertaking by  the  tranfient  fuggeftions  of  ava- 
rice, on  hearing  the  great  profits  of  the  car- 
penter mentioned  in  feveral  companies  in, 
the  .neighbourhood ;  and  this  new  fancy  was 
kept  alive  by  the  pleafure  he  took  in  mewing 
the  plan,  explaining  the  beauties  and  con- 
veniences of  the  houfe  he  intended  to  build  ; 
but  as  the  carpenter's  profits  grew  lefs  arid 
lefs  the  fubjecl:  of  converfation,  and  as  Bar^» 
net's  pleafure  in  difplaying  his  plan  began 
alfo  to  diminim,  it  is  very  probable  that  his 
natural  indolence  would  have  prevented 
him  from  carrying  his  project  farther,  had 
he  not  been  ftimulated  anew,  and  his  almoft 
blunted  purpofe  keenly  whetted  by  the  inter- 
ference of  his  friend  Mr.  Wormwood. 

This  gentleman  happening  to  pay  Mr. 
Barnet  a  vifit,  difapproved  of  the  plan   of 

his 


no  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

his  houfe,  aflured  him,  that  the  carpenter's 
profits  had  been  exaggerated  ;  and  advifed 
him  to  relinquim  a  fcheme  which  would  in- 
jure his  fortune,  and  at  the  fame  time  re- 
der  him  ridiculous. 

Barnet  was  fo  much  {hocked  at  hearing 
a  project,  on  which  he  valued  himfelf  not 
a  little,  treated  in  this  manner,  that  he  was 
unable  to  fpeak,  and  before  he  could  reco- 
ver himfelf,  Wormwood  added,  "  I  fhould 
be  heartily  concerned,  my  good  friend,  to 
think  that  fuch  a  foolifh  and  expenfive 
project  was  ever  to  be  executed ;  but  I  rely 
on  your  ufual  indecifion  and  ficklenefs,  that 
it  never  will." 

This  fpeech  clinched  the  bufmefs;  Bar- 
net  fent  for  the  architect,  agreed  to  his 
terms,  and  the  houfe  was  raifed  with  won- 
derful expedition. 

But  after  the  houfe  was  completely  finilh- 
cd,  and  the  ground  belonging  to  it  neatly 
dreffed,  to  Mr.  Barnet's  aftonimment  nei- 
ther purchafor  nor  tenant  appeared  ; — when 
it  had  remained  in  this  neglected  condition 
for  twelve  months,  "  did  I  not  tell  you," 

faid 


E   D  \V  A  R  D.  iix 

faid  Mr.  Wormwood  to  his  friend  Barnet, 
"  that  this  would  be  the  cafe  ?  now  you  find, 
when  it  is  too  late,  that  you  have  already 
loft  a  whole  year's  intereft  of  your  money." 

"  I  mall  not  lofe  a  fmgle  farthing,"  re- 
plied Barnet  ;  "  for  I  intend  to  add  the  in- 
tereft of  the  money  I  have  expended  to 
the  price  fixed  laft  year;  and  I  will  not 
part  with  the  premifes  for  a  milling  lefs, — 
no,  not  to  my  fifcer." 

The  houfe  flood  empty  another  year — 
nobody  offering  near  the  fum  he  had  fixed 
upon  as  the  loweft  price  for  it. 

"  The  bidders  for  this  villa  of  yours,  are 
very  backward  at  coming  forward,"  faid 
Mr.  Wormwood. 

"  They  mall  gain  nothing  however  by 
their  dilatorineis,"  replied  Barnet ;  "  for  I 
now  mail  infift  on  two  years  intereft  being 
added  to  the  original  price;  and  if  they 
provoke  me  by  much  longer  delay,  I  will 
add  the  inter  ejl  of  the  intereft" 

This  threat,  inftead  of  making  people  hur- 
ry to  the  purchafe,  as  Mr.  Barnet  expected, 
1 4  feemed 


112  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

fcemec!  rather  to  intimidate  them, — he  neve? 
had  a  fmgle  offer  after. 

Finding  this  to  be  the  cafe,  Mr.  Barnet 
refolved  to  make  fuch  improvements  as 
he  imagined  could  not  fail  to  pleafe  people 
of  tafte;  and  render  this  villa  more  mar- 
ketable. 

He  began  by  forming  an  oval  pond,  be- 
tween the  front  of  his  houfe  and  the  river; 
this  pond  he  (locked  with  carp  and  tench, 
and  bought  a  couple  of  fvvans  to  fwim  in 
it; — he  built  a  wooden  room  amidft  the 
branches  of  a  large  beech,  which  flood  in 
a  hollow  behind  the  houfe,  and  made  a 
very  neat  flaircafe  up  to  this  airy  apartment, 
on  the  front  of  which  was  infcribed  in 
letters  of  gold  The  Belvtdere.  He  befpoke 
two  fphinxes  of  the  beft  free-ftone  to  be 
placed  on  a  couple  of  pillars,  on  each  fide 
of  the  gate ;  the  fculptor  happening  to  have 
a  lion  and  an  unicorn  ready  made,  which 
had  laid  long  on  his  hands,  endeavoured  to 
perfuade  Mr.  Barnet  to  take  them  inftead 
of  the~fph.inxes. 

Mr. 


EDWARD.  113 

Mr.  Barnet  at  firft  feemed  to  relifli  the 
propofal,  until  it  was  fuggefted  to  him  by 
his  friend  the  innkeeper,  that  as  he  was 
attached  to  the  party  at  that  time  in  op- 
pofition,  his  friends  might  imagine,  that 
erecting  thefe  two  old  fupporters  of  the 
crown  at  his  gate,  had  the  air  of  relinquifh- 
ing  his  party.  Mr.  Barnet  was  fo  ftriick 
with  the  force  of  this,  that  he  rejected 
the  fculptor's  propofal,  and  infilled  on  his 
own. 

The  fculptor  finding  htm  pofitive  fell  to 
work,  and  did  his  utmoft  to  metamorphofe 
the  lion  and  unicorn  into  acoupleoffphinxes; 
and  it  was  under  this  new  denomina- 
tion, that  they  were  placed  as  centinels 
at  the  gate  of  Mr.  Barnet's  new  edifice; 
yet  it  muft  be  acknowledged  that  they 
ftill  retained  a  caft  of  their  original  charac- 
ters. 

It  was  with  a  view  to  put  an  end  to 

fuch  expenfive  and  ridiculous  projects,  and 

prevent    any   farther   attempt   to    improve 

this  houfe,  that  Mrs.  Temple  began  the  ex- 

VOL,  I.  1  poftulatioa 


ii4  EDWARD. 

poftulation  above  mentioned  with  her  friend: 
but  Mrs.  Barnet  had  fo  great  an  averfion  to 
arguing  with  her  hufband,  or  any  thing  which 
might  be  considered  as  croffing  his  inclina- 
tion, or  difturbing  his  amufements,  that  fhc 
would  not  promiie  to  interfere  directly  nor 
indirectly  in  the  bufinef*  to  which  her  friend 
prompted  her.  At  length  a  thought  ftriking 
her,  "  HI  tell  you  what  I  am  willing  to  do," 
faid  {he  to  Mrs.  Temple  ;  "  and  if  you  will 
aflift  me,  my  dear,  there  is  reafon  to  believe 
we  ftiall  fucceed,  and  it  will  have  nearly  the 
fame  effect  with  your  plan.     I  will  propofe 
to  my  huibarid,  that  we  ourfelves  fhould  re- 
move   to  this  new    houfe;   we  {hall  then 
have  it  in  our  power  to  fell  or  let  that  in 
which  we  refide  at  prefent;    for  this   we 
fhall  foon  find  either  a  purchafer  or  tenant 
at  a  greater  price  or  rent  than  my  hufband 
afks  for  the  other." 

"  But  how  will  you  be  able  to  bear  the 
pond  and  the  belvidere,  and  above  all,  thofe 
two  odious  monfters  at  the  gate?"  faid  Mrs. 
Temple. 

"  I  fliall 


EDWARD. 

"  I  fhall  bear  the  fight  of  all  thefe  with 
very  little  difturbance,  my  dear,"  anfwered 
Mrs.  Barnet ;  "  and  much  better  than  I 
fliould  bear  the  idea  of  plaguing  my  huf- 
band, by  croffing  him  in  things  from  which 
he  feems  to  derive  enjoyment. — Truly,  my 
good  friend,"  added  (he,  "  if  we  begin  to 
turn  into  ridicule  every  amufement  of  our 
neighbours,  that  is  not,  ftriclly  fpeaking, 
ufeful,  and  for  which  we  ourfelves  have  no 
relifh,  we  mail  be  in  danger  of  deftroying 
the  quiet  of  domeftic  life,  and  producing 
an  evil  much  greater  than  that  againft 
which  we  direct  our  fatire.  Befides,  Mr. 
Barnet  has  lately  difplayed  fo  much  good- 
nefs  of  heart,  on  a  particular  occafion, 
as  more  than  compenfates  for  the  little 
whims  we  have  been  fpeaking  of." — Mrs. 
Barnet  then  gave  fuch  an  account  of  the 
adventure  of  the  poor  boy,  as  was  highly 
honourable  to  her  hufband,  to  whom  Ihe 
afligned  the  whole  merit. 

This  converfation  happened  only  a  few 

hours  after  Mrs.  Barnet  had  prevailed  on  her 

hufband  to  take  the  boy.     Mrs.  Temple  no 

I  2  longer 


n6  EDWARD. 

longer  oppofed  her  friend's  plan  of  removing 
ro  the  new  houfe,  and  felling  that  in  which 
jQie  lived  :  but  it  was  not  neceflary  to  put  this 
plan  in  execution;  for  the  very  next  day  a 
young  mulatto,  whofe  father  had  left  him 
«t  confiderable  fortune  in  one  of  our  Weft 
India  iHands,  happening  to  drive  his  phae- 
fon  through  the  village  near  which  this 
curious  fabric  ftood,  one  of  his  horfes  loft 
a  fhoe,  which  obliged  him  to  flop  until  it 
*,vas  replaced.  He  was  accompanied  by 
a  lady  of  the  town,  whom  he  kept ;  and  as 
be  was  then  in  fearch  of  a  country  houfe, 
he  and  his  companion  walked  to  take  a 
view  of  that  which  we  have  been  fpeaking 
of.— The  lady  declared  it  to  be  one  of  the 
moft  tafly  things  of  the  kind  fhe  had  ever 
feen,  and  the  young  gentleman  was  in  rap- 
tures with  the  room  in  the  beech  tree ;  they 
both  were  delighted  with  the  fphinxes; — 
one  of  them,  in  particular,  fixed  the  atten- 
tion of  a  negro  footman  who  attended 
them. — "  You  feem  to  admire  that  creature 
greatly,  Pompey,"  faid  the  Lady  to  the 
footman. 

5  "  Yes, 


EDWARD.  117 

"  Yes,  madam,!  admire  her  very  muchj" 
replied  he  ;  "  and  mafia  fhould  admire  her 
more." 

"How  for"  faid  the  lady. 

"  Becaufe,"  replied  the  footman,  "  fhe 
is  very  like  mafia's  mother,  and  if  fhe  were 
made  of  black  ftone  inftead  of  ivbitet  her 
face  would  be  quite  almcil  the  fame." 

The  young  gentleman  feemed  a  little  out 
of  countenance  at  this  remark,  and  it  was 
fortunate  for  Pompey  that  he  was  in  Eng- 
land, and  not  in  the  Weft  Indies,  when  he 
made  it. 

However,  it  did  not  fo  far  difguft  the 
mulatto  as  to  prevent  him  from  purchafmg 
a  houfe,  which  in  all  other  refpedts  was 
fo  much  to  his  tafte. — He  agreed  at  once 
to  Mr.  Barnet's  demand,  fent  an  upholftercr 
from  London  to  furnifli  the  houfe,  and 
came  foon  after  with  his  miftrefs  to  inhabit 
it. 

Mrs.  Barnet    would    have   brought   the 

poor  boy  home  immediately  after  fhe  had 

i  3  prevailed 


ii8  EDWARD. 

prevailed   on  her  hufband  to  admit  hire; 
but  an  order  from  the  parifh  officers,  who 
had  placed  him  with  the  old  woman,  was 
neceflary,  before  he  could  be  taken  from 
her.     When  Mr.  Barnet  underfbod  this,  he 
highly   obliged   and  furprifed  his  wife,  by 
declaring,  that  as  he  was  under  the  neceflity 
of  going  to   town  within  a  few    days  on 
bufmefs,  he  would  take  that  opportunity  of 
informing  the  parifti  officers  of  his  inten- 
tions refpeding  the  boy;  and  that  after  he 
had  received  the  order,  he  would  call  at  the 
old  woman's  on  his  return,  and  bring  the 
boy  home  with  him.     If  the  reader  be  a 
complaifant  hufband,  whofe  chief  pleafure 
is  to  oblige  his  wife,    he  will  think  this 
piece  of  complaifance  a  thing  of  courfe,  and 
not   worth   recording  ;  but  as  Mr,  George 
Barnet  hardly  ever  thought   of  doing   an 
obliging  thing  to  any  body,  unlefs  when  he 
was  prompted  to  it  by  his  wife,  it  feemed 
neceflary   to   mention   one   thing    of  that 
nature,  which  arofe  from  his  own  proper 
fuggeftion,  and  was  in  all  likelihood  owing 
to  the  extraordinary  good  humour  he  was 


EDWARD.  119 

put  Into  by  the  fortunate  fale  of  the  houfe 
to  the  mulatto.  This  is  the  more  pro- 
bable, becaufe,  as  foon  as  Mr.  Barnet  ar- 
rived in  London,  he  hurried  to  his  friend 
Wormwood,  on  purpofe  to  triumph  over 
him  on  account  of  his  fuccefs  in  that  tranf- 
aftion. — After  informing  him  of  it,  and  of 
the  profit  he  had  gained,  "  Now,"  faid  he, 
**  Mr.  Wormwood,  with  all  your  wifdom, 
what  do  you  think  now?" 

"  Think,"  faid  Wormwood ;  "  I  think 
what  I  have  long  thought,  that  it  is  bet- 
ter to  be  lucky  than  wife.  But  pray," 
added  he,  "  what  is  become  of  the  lion 
and  unicorn?" 

"  What  lion  and  unicorn  ?  I  know  not 
what  you  mean,"  faid  Barnet. 

"  Why,  the  lion  and  unicorn  that  flood 
at  the  gate,"  continued  Wormwood  ;  "  has 
the  mulatto  got  them  to  the  bargain  ?" 

"  You  mean  the  two  fphinxes,"  faid 
Barnet. 

"  Aye,  you   were  pleafed  to  call   them. 

fphinxes,"  replied  Wormwood  j  "  but  I  do 

1 4  allure 


120  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

afTure   you,  my  good  friend,  that  all  the 
fculptor's  labour  was  not  able  to  conceal  the 
original   features  of  our  old  acquaintance 
the  lion  and  unicorn,  which  were  as  fully 
recognized  by  the  whole  country,  when  they 
flood  at  the  gate  of  your  celebrated  fabric, 
as  when  they  were  in  the  fculptor's  court. 
And  let  me  now  tell  you,  my  good  friend, 
that  this  attempt  to  convert  thofe  two  royal 
animals  into   a  couple  of  bafe  Egyptians, 
was  thought  as  difgraceful  to  his  Majefty's 
arms,  as  permitting  them  to  be  placed  over 
the  (hop-doors  of  perfumers,  milliners,  cork- 
cutters,  fhoe-makers,  breeches- makers,  and 
other  tradefmen ;    as  in  every  quarter    of 
London  they  are  now  feen  with  indignation, 
by  all  who  wifh  to  keep  up  the  proper  dif- 
tindtion  between  the  king  and  the  cobler." 

Mr.  Barnet,  having  left  Wormwood,  went 
about  the  principal  bufinefs  that  had  brought 
him  to  town,  and  then  waited  on  the  over- 
feers  of  the  workhoufe  from  which  the  boy 
had  been  fent.  They  had  been  previoufly 
informed  by  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Barnet  of 
his  intentions,  and  immediately  gave  him 

aa 


EDWARD.  121 

an  order  to  the  old  woman,  to  deliver  to  his 
care  Edward  Evilen,  which  was  the  name 
pinned  to  the  child's  cap  when  he  was  firft 
left  at  the  workhoufe,  and  by  which  he  was 
called  while  there. 


12*  EDWARD. 


CHAP.    XIV. 

Let  not  ambition  mock  their  ufeful  toil, 
Their  humble  joys  and  deftiny  obfcure, 
Nor  grandeur  hear  with  a  difdainful  fmile. 
The  fhort  and  fimple  annals  of  the  poor. 

GRAY. 

A  S  Mr.  Barnet,  on  his  return  to  his  own 
houfe,  approached  the  old  woman's 
cottage ,  a  young  man  in  a  very  high  phae- 
ton drove  rapidly  pad  him  over  the  heath, 
His  name  was  Sir  Charles  Royfton;  he  was 
heir  to  a  very  confiderable  eftate,  and  at 
the  age  of  eighteen,  by  the  afliftance  of 
Jews,  and  Chriftians  of  the  fame  latitude  of 
confcience,  contrived  to  fpend  fix  times  as 
much  money  as  he  was  allowed  by  his 
guardians. 

Sir  Charles  looked  frequently  behind  him, 
and  laughed  immoderately,  as  often  as  he 
turned  his  head; — the  footmen  feemed  as 
merry  as  their  matter. 

When 


EDWARD.  123 

When  Mr.  Barnet  came  to  the  part  of 
the  common  nearly  oppofite  to  the  old 
woman's  cottage,  he  found  that  all  this 
mirth  was  occafioned  by  the  phaeton's  hav- 
ing thrown  down  a  feaman  with  a  wooden 
leg,  who  had  not  been  expeditious  enough 
in  getting  out  of  the  way,  as  this  youth 
drove '  along  : — the  feaman  was  fo  much 
bruifed  that  he  could  not  ftand;  a  circle  of 
people  from  the  adjacent  hamlets  fur- 
rounded  him  as  he  lay  on  the  ground. 

Sir  Mathew  Maukim  and  his  lady  flopped 
their  carriage,  and  inquired  what  was  the 
matter. 

"  It  is  a  poor  failor,"  faid  one  of  the 
crowd,"  who  has  been  overturned,  and  fadly 
bruifed  by  a  gentleman  in  a  phaeton.'* 

"  Why  did  not  the  fellow  get  out  of  the 
gentleman's  way  ?"  faid  Sir  Mathew. 

"  He  tried  to  do  fo;  but  it  was  not  in  his 
power  to  run  faft  enough,  being  as  how 
he  has  a  wooden  leg,"  faid  one  of  the 
group. 

"A  wooden  leg!"  cried  Sir  Mathew; 
?  how  came  he  by  a  wooden  leg  r" 

"His 


124  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"  His  real  leg  was  carried  off  by  a  cannon 
bullet  in  a  fea-fight,1'  anfwered  the  lame 
perfon. 

"A  fea- fight!"  repeated  Sir  Mathew; 
"  what  the  devil  took  him  into  a  fea-fight  ?" 

"  He  went  to  fight  for  his  king  and  coun- 
try," anfwered  another,  (a  penfioner  from 
Chelfea  hofpital,)  "  as  was  his  duty." 

«c  Yes,  yes,"  faid  Sir  Mathew,  "  that  was 
his  duty,  to  be  fure ;  we  muft  all  fight  for 
our  king  and  country;  but  he  ought  to  have 
got  out  of  the  gentleman's  way,  for  all  that; 
he  ought  to  have  ftepp'd  a  little  afide  to  let 
him  pafs." 

*'  Why,  pleafe  your  honour,"  faid  theN 
penfioner,  •'  the  gentleman  drove  fo  damn'd 
faft,  that  the  poor  fellow  could  not  get  out 
of  his  way  more  than  of  the  bullet's  ;  if  he 
had  had  time  he  would  have  ftepp'd  a  little 
afide  to  let  them  both  pafs." 

"  Well,  in  my  opinion,"  rejoined  Sir  Ma- 
thew, "  the  gentleman  was  to  blame,  and 
if  he  were  here,  I  fhould  tell  him  fo." 

"  The  poor  man  feems  much  bruifed,  and 
unable  to  move,"  faid  the  penfioner. 

"  Poor 


EDWARD.  125 

"  Poor  creature  !"  cried  Lady  Bab  Mau- 
kifh,  in  a  very  fympathizing  tone,  "  he  is 
much  to  be  pitied." 

"  That  he  is,"  echoed  feveral  voices  from 
the  crowd. 

"  Is  that  boy  the  poor  man's  fon?"  faid 
Lady  Bab,  pointing  to  Edward  Evilen,  who 
fat  by  the  man,  helping  to  fupport  his  head 
with  one  hand,  and  holding  a  piece  of  gin- 
gerbread to  his  mouth  with  the  other; — "is 
that  man  your  father,  child?"  continued 
jQie,  addrefling  Edward. 

"  No,"  replied  he ;  "I  have  no  fa- 
ther." 

"  Where  is  your  mother  ?"  rejoined  Lady 
Bab. 

"  I  have  no  mother  neither,"  anfwered 
the  boy. 

41  What,  are  they  both  dead  ?"  faid  me. 

"  I  can't  tell,"  faid  he ;  «« I  never  faw 
them." 

"  Has  nobody  ever  told  you,  whether 
your  parents  were  dead  or  alive  ?" 

"I  never  faw  anybody  that  knew  them." 

"  What 


126  E  D  W  A  R  D, 

"  What  a  miferable  little  wretch  thou 
muft  be  1"  cried  Lady  Bab,  fhrugging  up 
her  fhoulders. 

"  Well,  but,"  refumed  Sir  Mathew  Mauk- 
ifh,  addreiftng  the  crowd,  "  why  do  you 
not  carry  this  bruifed  man  into  fome  of 
your  houfes  and  put  him  to  bed,  and  give 
him  a  cordial,  and  take  care  of  him  'till  he 
recovers  ?" 

"  Why,  Lord  !  your  honour/'  cried  one 
of  the  people,  "  none  of  us  have  fpare  beds  ; 
moft  of  us  lie  two  or  three  in  a  bed  al-» 
ready." 

"  Ah  !  the  odious  creatures!"  cried  Lady 
Maukifli. 

"  I'll  tell  you,  neighbours,"  faid  one,  who 
•was  well  acquainted  with  the  character  of 
Sir  Mathew  ;  "  we  had  beft  carry  this  poor 
man  to  Sir  Mathew  MaukiuYs  houfej  he 
will  certainly  order  him  to  be  well  taken 
care  of,  and  he  is  much  more  able  than 
any  of  us  to  maintain  him  till  he  reco- 


rers." 


II  "Drive 


EDWARD.  127 

"Drive  on,"  cried  Sir  Mathew,  put- 
ting his  head  haftily  out  of  the  coach  win- 
dow. 

"  Why  do  you  not  drive  on,  firrah," 
fqueaked  Lady  Bab,  from  the  other  win- 
dow. 

"  Ah,  the  odious  creatures !"  faid  the 
old  foldier,  mimicking  Lady  Bab's  voice. 

"  The  devil  drive  you  both  for  a  couple 
of  hard-hearted  niggards,"  cried  the  perfon 
who  knew  Sir  Mathew  and  his  lady. 

"  What  a  pity  to  let  a  man  lie  alone  on 
the  cold  ground  !"  faid  a  young  woman. 

*'  Efpecially  a  fellow  chriftian!"  added 
an  old  one,  who  flood  by  her. 

"  Chriftian  or  Turk,"  faid  the  Chelfea 
penfioner,  "  fmce  nothing  better  can  be 
done,  if  fome  of  you  will  help  me  to  carry 
him  into  my  hut,  I'll  take  the  beft  care  of 
him  I  can,  and  I  know  my  wife  will  make 
him  welcome. — How  fare  you  now,  old 
boy?"  continued  he,  addreffing  the  fea- 
man,  who  feemed  to  recover. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  brother,"  re*- 
plied  the  feaman,  "  only  a  little  damaged  in 

tb* 


128  EDWARD. 

the  larboard  fide,  and  in  the  ftern  j  but  I  hope 
to  live  and  repay  your  confort  and  you  for 
all  your  kindnefs ;  and  if  I  chance  to  meet 
the  frefh-water  fpark  who  ran  foul  of  me, 
mayhap  I  fliall  repay  him  alfo." 

The  failor,  being  carried  into  the  old  fol- 
dier's  hut,  was  laid  on  a  bed  of  ftraw,  pre- 
pared by  his  wife.  At  that  inftant  Evilen, 
who  had  preffed  into  the  hut  with  the 
crowd,  was  called  out  by  the  old  woman, 
who  prefented  him  to  Mr.  Barnet. 

The  boy  feemed  uneafy  when  the  old 
woman  told  him,  that  he  was  to  go  with 
that  gentleman.  "  The  children  are  always 
forry  to  leave  me,  pleafe  your  honour,"  faid 
the  old  woman. 

"  I  am  not  a  bit  forry  to  leave  you,"  faid 
Evilen. 

"  What  are  you  forry  for  then?"  faid 
Barnet. 

"  To  go  with^ow,"  replied  the  boy. 
"  Your  honour  muft  excufe  his  ignorance," 
faid  the  old  woman ;  "  for  he  has  been  but 
a  fhort  time  with  me;  and  was  bred  among 
the  low  Vulgar  at  the  work-houfe." 

"Why 


EDWARD.  129 

"  Why  are  you  forry  to  go  with  me  ?" 
faid  Barnet  to  the  boy. 

"  Becaufe  you  are  a  gentleman,"  he  re- 
plied. 

"  What  makes  you  diflike  gentlefolks  ?" 
Mr.  Barnet  afked. 

"  One  of  them  drove  over  the  poor  failor 
with  the  wooden  leg,  and  then  laughed  at 
him,  when  he  tumbled  on  the  ground,"  faid 
the  boy. 

"  You  muft  not  go,  child,  for  to  prefume 
to  blame  quality  folks,"  faid  the  old  woman ; 
"  which,  to  be  fure,  are  our  betters,  being  by 
the  orders  of  Providence  more  richer  than 
the  poor; — and  although  the  hearts  of  the 
rich  quality,  mayhap,  are  harder  than  ours 
be,  yet,"  continued  fhe,  addreffing  Mr. 
Barnet,  "  that  is  not  their  fault,  for  your  ho- 
nour knows  they  cannot  help  it,  on  account 
of  their  money,  which  would  make  poor 
folks  the  fame,  if  fo  be  that  they  had  it. 
Might  it  not,  pleafe  your  honour?" 

"  Perhaps  it  might,"  faid  Barnet ;  "  there 
is  no  knowing  till  they  are  tried." 

VOL.  I.  K  «  I  wifh 


130  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"  I  wim  I  was  tried,"  faid  the  old  woman, 
'i  juft  for  the  fatisfaction  of  knowing  ; — but 
it  is  not  for  you,"  continued  me,  looking 
at  the  boy,  "  to  throw  dirt  on  the  rich,  for 
mayhap  you  may  fome  day  be  one  of  them, 
yourfelf." 

"  I'd  much  rather  be  a  poor  man,  like 
Nic  the  old  foldier,"  faid  Evilen. 

"  Who  is  Nic  the  old  foldier?'1  Mr.  Bar- 
net  alked. 

"  He  is  a  poor  Chelfea  penfioner,  who 
Jives  with  his  wife  in  that  there  cottage, 
and  fometimes  does  a  job  of  work  to  help 
the  penfion  to  hold  out  to  the  year's  end. 
He  is  liked  very  much  in  thefe  here  parts, 
pleafe  your  honour,  becaufe  he  is  always 
ready  with  his  joke,  and  tells  us  ftories  of 
the  wars,  and  General  Wolf,  and  General 
Quebec,  and  fuch  li -vC  great  commanders ; — 
but  after  all,  he  is  but  a  poor  devil,  with 
hardly  a  whole  rag  to  his  back,  except 
upon  Sundays,  and  upon  the  verfenary  of 
General  Quebec." 

"  What  is  that?"  faid  Barnet. 

"Good 


EDWARD.  131 

"Good  Lord!  does  your  honour  not 
know  the  verfenary  of  General  Quebec  ?" 
cried  fhe. 

"  Not  I,"  faid  Earner. 

"  Well,  that  is  curous,"  faid  the  old  wo- 
man ;  "  but  we  all  know  it  in  thefe  here 
parts,  by  the  means  of  old  Nic.  Good  gra- 
cious, I  wifh  your  honour  but  faw  him  at 
the  verfenary!" 

"  Why,  what  the  devil  is  the  verfenary  ?" 
cried  Barnet. 

"  I'll  tell  you  pirticulary,  pleafe  your  ho- 
nour," faid  {he,  "  if  your  honour  will  only 
have  a  little  patience." 

"  Well,  well,"  cried  Barnet,  "  let  us 
hear." 

"Why,  then,  your  honour  muft  know,  that 
the  verfenary  of  General  Quebec  comes  round, 
like  Chriftmas,  only  once  a  year,  and  then  old 
Nic  appears  in  all  his  glory,  with  his  red  fear- 
let  coat  on  his  back,  and  fierce  cock'd  laced 
hat  on  his  head,  and  a  uniformal  fword  by 
his  fide ;  and  then  he  ftruts  away  to  the  ale- 
houfe,  where  he  ufually  meets  three  or  four  old 
foldiers,  who  comes  there  to  keep  the  verfe- 
K  2  nary 


E  D  W  A  R  D. 

nary  along  with  him ;  and  fo  they  drinks 
the  healths  of  all  the  old  commanders  who 
were  killed  abroad :  and  then  they  begins  to 
tell  ftories  about  the  wars,  and  defcribe  how 
the  battles  were  won  by  the  Engliih,  and 
loft  by  the  French  and  Spaniards ;  for  your 
honour  knows,  that  the  French  and  Spaniards 
never  beat  the  Englifli  in  their  lives,  though 
they  are  two  to  one.  And  then  old  Nic 
gives  a  full  and  true  account  of  how  Ge- 
neral Wolf  was  killed,  and  General  Quebec 
taken  pnlbner ;  and  then  they  defire  blind 
George,  who  was  once  a  grenadier,  and  now 
iells  ballads,  to  ling  the  Britiflj  Grenadiers^ 
which  he  does ;  all  about  Mars  the  god  of 
war,  and  all  the  other  gods  defcending  upon 
fpcars  *,  and  then  they  all  join  in  the  rorus, 
and  beats  the  grenadiers  march  with  their 
tongues,  and  they  are  all  as  drunk  as  lords, 

*  To  underftand  this  it  may  be  neceflary  to  infert  one  ftan7» 
of  the  fong  to  which  the  old  woman  alludes: 

"  Great  Jove,  the  god  of  thunder,  and  Mars,  the  god  of 
war; 

«'  Neptune  with  his  trident,  Apollo  in  his  car, 
««  And  all  the  gods  celeftial,  defcendtd 'frsm  their  fpkerest 
•'  To  view  with  admiration  the  Britifh  Grenadiers." 

and 


EDWARD.  133 

and  then  I  always  helps  Margery  to  carry 

Nic  home.— -And  then — and  then, this 

is  the  verfenary  of  General  Quebec,  pleafe 
your  honour." 

The  old  woman,  who  Teemed  to  be  ani- 
mated with  the  fubject,  fpoke  with  fo  much 
vehemence  in  giving  this  account,  that  Evi- 
len  imagined  me  was  in  a  paffion,  and  had 
been  giving  a  bad  character  of  the  foldier 
to  Mr.  Barnet;  the  boy  therefore  faid,  "  But 
for  all  that  you  have  been  telling,  poor  old 
Nic  took  the  feaman  with  the  wooden  leg 
into  his  houfe." 

"  That  he  did,"  faid  the  old  woman;  "  for 
old  Nic  is  a  good-natured  devil  in  the  main, 
though  he  loves  fport,  and  is  a  little  too 
much  on  the  jokobus  with  his  betters  fome- 
times." 

a  All  your  jokers,"  faid  Barnet,  "  are  in- 
clined, out  of  mere  fpite,  to  throw  them  out 
on  ready-money  people." 

"  But  your  ready-money  people,  as  your 
honour  muft  know,"  faid  the  old  woman, 
"  are  no  ways  inclined  to  throw  it  out  on 
jokers." 

K  3  «  For 


134  EDWARD. 

"  For  which  reafon,"  faid  Barnet,  "  old 
Nic  is  more  merry  than  wife." 

"  Your  honour  is  in  the  right,"  faid  the 
old  woman ;  "  and  that  may  be  the  reafon 
of  his  being  fo  poor;  for  the  rich  are  feldom 
fo  merry  as  one  would  expert,  confidering 
they  have  nothing  to  do,  but  are  often  fad 
and  dull,  as  your  honour  muft  know  by  ex- 
perience. 

"  Is  the  man  with  the  wooden  leg  much 
hurt?"  faid  Barnet. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Evilen,  "  for  he  could 
not  eat  gingerbread." 

"  Poor  man !"  faid  Barnet,  a  little  afFe&ed. 

"  Come  and  fee  him,"  faid  Evilen,  point- 
ing at  the  foldier's  hut ;  "  he  is  in  there." 

"  Hold  your  peace,  ybu  little  fool,"  faid 
the  old  woman  ;  "do  you  think,  his  honour 
will  go  for  to  enter  into  fuch  a  hole. — You 
muft  excufe  him,  pleafe  your  honour,"  con- 
tinued me,  "  he  fpeaks  through  ignorance, 
not  knowing  the  nature  of  gentlefolks ;  but 
he  does  not  mean  to  affront  your  honour, 
more  or  lefs." 

"I  do 


EDWARD.  135 

*'  I  do  not  fuppofe  he  does,"  faid  Barnet ; 
*'  but  there  are  fuch  a  number  of  poor  ob- 
jects, and  diftreffing  ftories,  popping  on  one 
from  every  quarter,  that  my  hand,"  conti- 
nued he,  pulling  out  his  purfe,  "  is  hardly 
ever  out  of  my  purfe  j  but  here,"  added  he, 
putting  half  a  crown  into  the  boy's  hand, 
"  go  and  give  the  feaman  this." 

Evilen  ran  bounding  for  joy.—"  There, 
faid  he  to  the  failor,  the  geutl  ^man  in  the 
coach  fends  you  that." 

"  God  blefs  the  gentleman,  and  you  both, 
my  dear  boy,'*  faid  the  feaman. 

"  Amen,"  cried  the  foldier. — "  I  am  glad 
to  fee  any  thing  good  come  from  a  coach  at 
laft." 

"  Now,"  faid  Barnet,  when  Evilen  re- 
turned, "  I  am  going  to  carry  you  to  a  good 
friend  of  yours." 

"  Ah,"  cried  the  old  woman, "  this  worthy 
gentleman  is  going  to  take  you  to  the  lady 
who  was  fo  kind  to  you." 
"  Are  you  ?"  cried  the  boy. 
"  I  am,  indeed,"  faid  Barnet. 

K  4  «  Let 


136  EDWARD. 

"  Let  us  go  then,"  faid  he,  grafping  Mr. 
Barnet's  hand. 

Having  made  a  fmall  prefent  to  the  old 
•woman,  Mr.  Barnet  ordered  the  coachman 
to  drive  home. 

Evilen  afked  frequently  as  they  drove 
along,  if  they  were  near  the  lady's  houfe, 
and  he  ihewed  the  ftrongeft  figns  of  joy  at 
the  end  of  their  journey,  when  he  faw  Mrs. 
Barnet. 

The  neglect  which  this  poor  boy  had  ex- 
perienced in  general,  and  the  hard  ufage  he 
had  received  from  fome  individuals,  ren- 
dered him  peculiarly  fenfible  to  the  kindnefs 
ef  Mrs.  Barnet,  which  kindled  within  his 
young  bofom  fuch  a  glow  of  gratitude  and 
affection  as  he  had  never  felt  before. 

Mrs.  Barnet  could  not  help  perceiving 
this,  and  was  equally  pleafed  with  that  in- 
genuoufnefs  of  difpofition,  and  quicknefs  of 
apprehenfion,  of  which  he  gave  daily  proofs ; 
and  which  ingratiated  him  more  and  more 
with  this  good  woman,  who  felt  augment- 
ing fatisfaction  in  the  thought  of  faving  fo 
fine  a  boy  from  being  crufhed  by  poverty 

and 


EDWARD.  137 

and  neglect,  and  in  the  hopes  of  bringing 
the  rewards  of  talents  and  integrity  within 
his  reach. 

As  he  had  been  fo  lately  ill,  Ihe  poft- 
poned  boarding  him  at  a  fchool  till  he  fhould 
fully  recover  his  ftrength. 

Meanwhile,  Ihe  ordered  cloathstobe  made 
up,  and  appointed  a  bed  for  him  in  a  clofet 
adjoining  to  her  own  dreffing-room. 

Edward,  in  common  with  all  children,  de- 
rived pleafure,  no  doubt,  from  the  fight  of  his 
new  cloaths,  as  well  as  from  the  other  com- 
forts of  his  prefent  fituation ; — but  his  own 
good  fortune  had  not  the  effect  on  his  mind, 
which  it  has  been  obferved  to  have  on  the 
minds  of  many;  it  feemed  not  even  in  the 
fmalleft  degree  to  render  him  unfeeling  to 
the  misfortunes  of  others,  or  forgetful  of  his 
former  acquaintance.  Of  his  remembrance 
of  the  old  foldier  and  the  failor,  he  gave 
a  fingular  proof  one  day  when  fome  com- 
pany dined  with  Mr.  Barnet;  for,  on  feeing 
more  victuals  fet  on  the  table  than  he 
thought  fufficient  for  the  people  prefent,  he 
&id  aloud,  looking  to  Mr.  Earner,,  "  I  wifh 

old 


i38  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

old  Nichadfome  of  that !" — This  unexpected 
wifh  threw  the  company  into  a  fit  of  laugh- 
ter ;  and  Mrs.  Barnet,  when  fhe  recovered 
herielf,  faid  to  him,  "  why  do  you  wifh  fo, 
child :"— "  Eecaufe,"  anfwered  he, "  it  would 
maintain  him  and  bis  wife  feveral  days,  and 
he  would  give  part  of  it  to  the  poor  bruifed 
jailor." — This  reply  did  not  make  the  matter 
clearer;  but  Mrs.  Barnet  perceiving  that  her 
hufband  underftood  to  what  the  boy  alluded, 
requefted  an  explanation  of  him.  He  de- 
iked  Edward  himfelf  to  inform  the  com- 
pany of  the  whole  ftory  of  the  Chelfea 
penfioner,  and  the  feaman  with  the  wooden 
leg.  Evilen  acquitted  himfelf  of  this  tafk 
in  the  dialect  of  a  child,  it  is  true,  yet 
fo  as  to  intereft  every  one  that  heard 
him,  greatly  affected  the  heart  of  Mrs. 
Barnet,  and  {hewed  the  goodnefs  of  his 
own.  For  as  the  fick  and  weakly  have  in 
general  more  fympathy  with  thofe  labour- 
ing under  difeafe  or  delicacy  of  conflitution, 
than  the  healthy  and  robuft,  fo  this  judicious 
woman  had  obferved,  that  fome  people, 
while  they  feem  to  compaflionate  the  mife- 

ries 


EDWA  R  D.  139 

ries  of  others,  are  only  pitying  themfelves.— • 
Such  people  give  proofs  of  humanity  only 
while  their  feelings  are  kept  alive  by  the 
dread  of  falling  into  misfortunes  fimilar  to 
thofe  which  they  compaflionate  in  others, 
but  the  fame  perfons  being  by  accident  raifed 
above  the  fphere  of  like  calamities,  (hake 
off  their  fympathy,  and  feem  to  change  their 
nature,  like  grubs  converted  into  butterflies; 
who  being  raifed  from  the  duft  on  their 
new  lent  wings,  expand  all  their  finery, 
flutter  from  oae  flowery  object  to  another, 
court  the  fun-fhine,  and  think  no  more  of 
their  old  humble  companions.  Mrs.  Barnet 
therefore  was  highly  pleafed  to  find  that 
Evilen  was  not  of  this  clifpofition,  but  re- 
tained his  fenfibility  towards  the  inhabitants 
of  the  heath,  after  he  himfelf  was  tranfported 
to  a  warmer  region. 


140  E  D  W  A  R  D. 


CHAP.    XV. 

———-Non  in  caro  voluptas 

Summa,  fed  in  teipfo  eft,  tu  pulmemaria  quasre 

Sudar.do.  Ho*i 

T\yfRS.  Barnet  was  not  a  perfon  in  whom 
the  emotions  of  pity  evaporate  in  fighs, 
or  melt  in  tears,  without  any  other  effect — 
nor  one  of  thofe  fafhionable  philanthro- 
pifts,  who  taking  credit  for  an  unlimited 
portion  of  humanity,  by  oftentatious  fymp- 
toms  of  fenfibility,  wipe  their  eyes,  pocket 
their  handkerchiefs,  and  think  no  more 
on  the  wretched,  in  whofe  diftrefs  they 
have  taken  fo  affecting  a  part.  Nobody 
had  heard  Mrs.  Barnet's  fighs,  nor  feen 
her  tears  for  the  maimed  feaman ;  yet  his 
ftory  had  dwelt  in  her  mind,  and  feeling 
a  flrong  defire  to  fee  both  him  and  the 
foldier,  fhe  took  the  refolution  of  driving  to 
the  hut  of  the  latter. 

1 i  That 


EDWARD.  141 

That  me  might  have  the  more  time  for 
this  jaunt,  no  company  being  invited  but 
the  parfon,  fhe  propofed  next  day  to  her  hu£- 
band,  that  they  fhould  dine  a  little  earlier  than 
ufual ;  and  to  induce  him  to  agree  to  her 
propofal,  fhe  hinted  that  two  or  three  of  his 
favourite  dimes  were  ordered  for  dinner. 
.  He  immediately  aflented  ;  but  unfortu- 
nately when  the  dinner  was  ferved,  Mr. 
Barnet  had  little  or  no  appetite,  and  was  in 
very  ill-humour.  It  is  not  quite  clear  whe- 
ther his  ill-humour  deprived  him  of  appetite, 
or  his  want  of  appetite  put  him  into  ill-hu- 
mour ;  but  it  is  certain,  that  he  fat  down  to 
dinner  with  both  thofe  difagreeable  guefls, 
and  as  the  firft  was  greatly  difliked  by  Mr. 
Barnet,  and  the  fecond  by  his  wife,  it  is  pro- 
bable that  neither  was  invited,  but  that  the 
one  introduced  the  other. 

Mr.  Barnet  had  hardly  tafted  the  carp, 
till  he  declared  that  it  was  not  fuffieiently 
done. — It  was  immediately  fent  back  to  the 
cook.  On  its  return,  Barnet  fwore  it  was 
worfe  than  at  tirft,  quite  over-ftewed,  and 
abfolutely  not  eatable — "This  mutton,  how- 
ever, 


14*  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

ever,  is  excellent,  my  dear,"  faid  Mrs.  Bar- 
net,  "  mall  I  have  the  pleafure  of  helping 
you  to  a  little  ?" 

"  No — I  am  iurfeited  with  mutton,"  an- 
fwered  Barnet  pee^v'fhly. — tc  But  I  wi(h  you 
had  only  thought  of  ordering  fome  of  the 
venifon  we  had  yefterday  to  be  ftewed.— * 
I  fhould  have  liked  a  litrle  of  that ;  but 
no  fuch  thing  is  ever  thought  of  in  my 
family." 

As  he  finimed  his  obfervation,  a  footman 
entered  with  a  diih  of  ftewed  venifon. 

"  I  am  glad,  my  dear,"  laid  Mrs.  Barnet, 
*6  that  it  has  happened  to  be  thought  of  to- 
day." 

Barnqt  was  more  difappointed  at  lofmg  a 
pretext  for  venting  his  ill-humour,  than 
pleafed  at  the  appearance  of  the  difh.  After 
fwallowing  a  few  mouthfuls,  he  fent  it  away, 
faying,  "  it  was  fmoked." 

"  Allow  me  to  help  you  to  a  wing  of  a 
chicken,  my  dear,"  refumed  Mrs.  Barnet; 
"  you  ufed  to  like  chicken,  with  a  flice  of 
tongue.1' 


10 


Is 


EDWARD.  i43 

"  Is  the  tongue  fmoked  ?"    faid  Barnet. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  replied  his  wife. 

4<  Then  I  am  for  none  of  either,"  fald 
Barnet ;  "  though,  if  the  tongue  had  been 
fmoked  inftead  of  the  venifon,  I  might 
have  made  a  tolerable  dinner.'1 

Mrs.  Barnet  nodded  to  a  footman,  who 
immediately  withdrew. 

"  It  is  very  hard,"  continued  Mr.  Barnet, 
"  that  they  fhould  have  fpoiled  one  difh,  by 
what  would  have  rendered  the  other  excel- 
lent." 

"  It  is  fortunate,  my  dear,  that  we  chance 
to  have  a  very  good  fmoked  tongue  alfo," 
faid  Mrs.  Barnet ; <c  and  here  it  comes,"  con- 
tinued fhe,  as  the  fervant  returned.  "  Pray 
try  this  wing  with  a  (lice  of  it," 

Barnet,  quite  at  a  lofs  what  fault  to  find 
next,  accepted  the  difh  with  which  his  wife 
preferred  him ;  but  being  entirely  without 
appetite,  after  mincing  the  meat,  and  play- 
ing a  little  with  the  knife  and  fork,  he  gave 
his  plate  to  a  footman,  faying,  "  I  think  I 
fhould  prefer  fomething  cold  ;  but  I  fuppofe 
there  is  no  cold  meat  in  the  houfe," 

u  Forgive 


144-  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

<c  Forgive  me,  my  dear,  you  may  have 
either  a  like  of  cold  beef  or  cold  veal ;  which 
do  you  chufe?"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Is  there  any  cold  mutton  ?"  the  hufband 
afked. 

"  I  do  not  remember  to  have  ever  feen 
you  eat  cold  mutton,"  replied  the  wife. 

"  I  fhould  like  it  very  much  at  prefent, 
however,"  faid  Barnet :  and  having  at 
length  hit  on  what  he  thought  a  juft  caufe 
of  difccntent,  continued  grumbling  till  the 
dinner  was  removed  ;  and  Mrs.  Barnet  now- 
perceiving  that  he  had  more  fatisfa&ion  in 
that,  than  in  any  thing  that  could  be  done  or 
faid  to  pleafe  him,  allowed  him  to  enjoy  it 
without  interruption,  until  he  happened  to 
fay,  "  I  thought  you  intended  to  drive  out 
this  afternoon :" 

Mrs.  Barnet  immediately  took  the  hint, 
wifhed  her  hufband  and  the  parfon  a  good 
afternoon ;  and  taking  Evilen  into  the  car- 
riage with  her,  fhe  ordered  the  coachman 
to  drive  to  the  foldier's  hut. 


EDWARD.          145 


CHAP.    .XVI. 

The  broken  foldier  kindly  bade  to  ftay, 
Sat  by  his  fire,  and  talk'd  the  night  away ; 
Wept  o'er  his  wounds,  or  tales  of  forrow  done, 
Shoulder 'd  his  crutch,  and  fhevved  how  fiejds  were  won. 

GOLDSMITH. 

•IT/HEN  they  drew  very  near  the  hut,  they 
heard  fmging,  and  in  the  intervals  fe- 
yeral  hearty  burfts  of  laughter. 

Mrs.  Barnet  deputed  Evilen  to  acquaint 
the  foldier  with  her  arrival. 

The  boy  found  him  fitting  with  a  large 
tankard  in  his  hand,  between  another  foldier 
and  his  own  wife. 

"  Nic  !"  cried  Evilen,  as  he  rufhed  into 
the  cottage,  "  here  is  a  lady  who  wants  to 
fee  you." 

"  Wants  to  fee  me!"  cried  the  foldier. 

"  I  doubt  you  are  miftaken,   my  dear;  it  is 

long  fmceany  ladies  have  wanted  to  fee  me." 

"  Come   along,0    cried    Evilen,    feizing 

fais  hand,  and  leading  him  to   the  coach, 

Which  having  reached  he  gavu  him  a  pufh 

voi.  i.  L  towards 


146  EDWARD. 

towards  Mrs.  Barnet,   faying,  "  There   is 
honeft  old  Nic !" 

"  I  was  defirous  to  fee  you,  friend,"  faid 
{he,  "  and  of  knowing  what  had  become  of 
the  poor  feaman,  who  received  a  hurt  fome 
time  fince  at  your  door." 

The  foldier  then  informed  her,  that  the 
failor  was  fo  much  recovered  of  his  bruifes, 
that  he  had  fet  out  that  very  morning  on 
the  top  of  a  ftage-coach  for  London,  and 
would  be  that  evening  at  Greenwich  ;  for 
he  belonged  to  the  Hofpital,  from  which, 
having  had  leave  of  abfence  for  a  fortnight, 
he  was  returning  when  the  accident  hap- 
pened to  him. 

"  I  am  glad  he  is  fo  well,"  faid  Mrs.  Bar- 
net,  "  and  I  am  glad  to  fee  you,  becaufe  of 
your  humanity  to  him." 

"  There  was  no  great  matter  of  humanity 
in  what  I  did,  madam,"  replied  the  foldier; 
"  an  old  foldier  could  not  let  a  wounded 
failor  lie  on  the  ground,  when  he  had  a  hut 
to  give  him  flicker  in  ;  one  who  could  act 
fuch  a  part  would  defer ve  to  be  drummed 
out  of  the  army,  inftead  of  enjoying  his 

Majefty's 


EDWARD.  147 

Majefty's  bounty,  as  I  do,  God  Almighty 
blefshim!" 

"  You  have  a  penfion  from  the  Chelfea 
Hofpital  ?"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Yes,  that  I  have,"  cried  the  foldier ; 
"  and  it  is  regularly  paid,  although  I  do  no 
manner  of  duty." 

"  You  were  wounded,  perhaps  ?"  rejoined 
Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  I  was  mot  thrqugh  the  body  at  the  bat- 
tle on  the  heights  of  Abraham,  where  Ge- 
neral Wolf  was  killed,  pleafe  your  ladyfhip  ; 
but  he  had  the  fatisfa&ion  of  knowing  that 
the  enemy  fled  before  he  expired  j  and  well 
he  deferved  fuch  a  death,  for  he  was  an  ex- 
cellent officer." 

"  You  could  do  no  more  duty  as  a  fol- 
dier, after  being  fo  wounded  ?"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet. 

"  Every  bullet,  your  ladyfhip  knows," 
replied  the  foldier,  "  has  its  commiflion ; 
that  which  went  through  my  body  had  riot 
a  commiflion  for  death,  but  only  for  wound- 
ing; and  fo  I  recovered,  and  did  my  duty  the 
following  winter  in  the  action  near  Quebec, 
where  General  Murray  commanded." 

L  3  **  I  hope 


148  EDWARD. 

"  I  hope  you  was   not  wounded  there 
alfo  ?"  faid  Mrs.  Earner. 

4<  Yes,  I  received  a  fhot  in  my  moulder, 
which  difabled  me  from  ufmg  my  firelock  ; 
and  what  is  more  provoking,  it  was  at  the 
beginning  of  the  adion,  and  I  had  only  fired 
three  times  ;  and  fo  being  of  no  farther  ufe, 
I  was  fent  back  to  the  Hofpital,  and  I  faw 
no  more  of  the  battle-,  which  I  fhould  have 
'  been  glad  to  defcribe  to  your  ladyfhip,  if  I 
had  remained. 

"  You  were  long  of  recovering  of  this 
laft  wound  ?"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Very  long,  pleafe  your  ladyfhip,  for  the 
bone  was  hurt ;  I  was  fent  home  and  recom- 
mended to  Chelfea,  which  I  obtained,  and 
am  an  out-penfioner  j  but  although  I  fuffered 
a  good  deal  for  feveral  months  at  firft,  yet, 
thank  God,  I  at  laft  had  fome  intervals  of 
eafe,  and  there  was  not  a  great  deal  of  pain, 
except  when  a  little  bit  of  bone  was  about 
to  throw  off — now  it  feidom  troubles  me; 
but  although  I  have  not  all  the  ufe  of  my 
arm,  I  could  ftill  make  a  fliift  to  draw  a 
trigger  againft  the  French  or  Spaniards,  if 
there  was  occafion." 

"Have 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  149 

*'  Have  you  nothing  to  maintain  you  and 
your  wife,  but  the  fmall  penfion  from  the 
Hofpital  ?"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  O!  yes,"  anfwered  thefoidier;  "  I  can 
do  a  little  work  as  a  gardener,  to  which  I  was 
originally  bred,  that  is,  when  my  ihoulder 
is  not  very  painful ;  and  my  wife  is  a  very 
careful  and  induftrious  woman,  and  ftill 
able  to  gain  a  little  alfo,  and  fo  we  have 
great  reafon  to  be  thankful,  being  by  the 
king's  bounty  and  God's  goodnefs  enabled 
not  only  to  maintain  ourielves,  but  alfo  to 
entertain  a  friend  fometimes,  which  I  confefs 
we  were  doing  juft  now;  for  as  your  lady- 
fhip  knows,  life  is  but  a  roughilh  journey, 
at  beft  j  and  fo  Margery  and  I  love  tojtrew 
the  way  over  'with flowers ,  asthefonggoes." 
"  And  pray,"  laid  Mrs,  Barnet  fmiling, 
"  what  kind  of  flowers  were  you  ftrewing 
juft  now  ?" 

"  Anon  ?"  cried  the  foldier ;  not  quite 
underflanding  the  queftion. 

"  May  I  afc,"  refurned  Mrs.  Barnet, 
"  what  the  prefent  entertainment  with  which 
you  regale  your  friend  confifts  of?'' 


1 50  EDWARD. 

"  It  confifts,"  replied  the  foldier,  "  of  a 
loaf  of  very  good  brown  bread,  an  excellent 
Suffolk  cheefe,  and  a  can  of  gin  and  water." 

Mrs.  Barnet  was  ftruck  at  the  fatisfaction 
with  which  this  poor  foldier,  who  certainly 
had  fome  merit  with  his  country,  enjoyed 
the  fmall  portion  of  good  things  which 
fell  to  his  fhare,  and  the  recollection  of  her 
hufband's  difcontent,  in  the  midft  of  a  far 
more  fumptuous  allotment; — the  contraft 
ftruck  her  fo  forcibly,  that  flie  heaved  a  figh, 
and  for  an  inftant  threw  up  her  eyes. 

The  foldier  miftook  the  fource  of  her 
emotion,  and  thought  fhe  was  comparing 
in  her  mind  the  comforts  of  his  fituation, 
with  the  hardfhips  to  which  many  were 
cxpofed.  Under  this  impreflion  he  added, 
"  I  am  very  fenfible,  madam,  and  fo  is  my 
poor  Margery,  that  we  have  great  reafon  to 
be  thankful  with  our  fituation,  confidering 
that  we  are  how  both  old,  and  that  without 
my  pehfion,  we  could  not  maintain  our- 
felves:  Would  to  the  Lord,  that  every  worthy 
honeft  heart  in  this  wide  world  were  as 
well  provided  for!'* 

"lam 


EDWARD.  151 

u  I  am  fure,"   faid  Mrs.  Barnet,  with  a 
fmile  of  benevolence  to  the  foldier,  "  that  » 
a  heart  fo  eafily  fatisfied  as  yours  ought  not 
to  know  want." 

"  I  hardly  ever  did,  madam,"  faid  he, 
"  particularly  fmce  we  fettled  at  this  place; 
for  we  have  our  hut  for  almoft  nothing ; 
bread,  cheefe,  and  fmall  beer  are  tolerably 
cheap  ;  and  the  gin  is  excellent : — If  your 
ladyfhip  has  occafion  for  any,  I  can  re- 
commend that  at  the  Hog  in  Armour  on  this 
heath,  for  as  wholefome  Holland's  as  any  in 
England." 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,"  faid  Mrs; 
Barnet,  laughing  ;  "  but  pray  what  company 
have  you  with  you ;  you  feemed  very  happy 
and  merry  when  I  came  ?" 

"  We  have*  no  other  company,  pleafe 
your  Ladyfhip,"  replied  the  penfioner, "  but 
a  poor  foldier,  who  I  happened  to  meet  on 
the  road  ;  poor  fellow,  he  .feemed  faint  with 
the  heat,  and  the  weight  of  his  knapfack; 
and  fo,  as  it  was  juft  about  the  time  of  our 
dinner,  I  invited  him  to  {hare  with  Margery 
and  me ;  we  all  fell  to  accordingly,  and  I 
doubt  if  many  people  in  the  parifh  have 
L  4  '  made 


152  EDWARD. 

made  a  better  dinner  than  the  foldier  ancf 
I;  for  we  were  both  ver-y  hungry,  and  as  I 
faid  before,  every  thing  was  good  of  its  kind ; 
as  for  Margery,  fhe  eats  no  great  matter, 
and  hardly  ever  takes  above  one  draught 
of  gin  and  water ;  but  I  confefs  the  ftranger 
and  I  were  beginning  to  get  a  little  merry 
when  your  lady  (hip  arrived." 

"  He  is  a  foldier,  I  think  you  fay  ?"  re- 
fumed  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Of  the  20th,  pleafe  your  ladyfhip," 
anfweredhe;  "  there  is  not  a  finer  regiment 
in  thefervice,  it  was  once  General  Wolf  s." 

"  Here  is  a  crown  for  him,"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet,  *'  it  will  help  him  on  to  his  regi- 


ment." 


"  That  it  will  indeed,"  rejoined  the  pen- 
fioner;  "  efpecially  as,  poor  fellow,  he  feems 
to  ftand  much  in  need  of  a  pak  of  new 
fhoes  ;  thofe  he  has  being  worn  quite 
through,  and  he  can  ill  afford  to  get  another 
pair,  for  he  tells  me  he  is  already  under 
ftoppages." 

"  What  are  ftoppages?"  faid  Mrs.  Bar- 
net. 

"  That 


EDWARD.  153 

*'  That  part  of  a  foldier's  pay^"  anfwered 
he,  "  which  is  Hopped  to  purchafe  necef- 
faries." 

"  If  any  of  a  foldier's  pay  is  flopped," 
faid  Mrs.  Barnet,  "  on  what  does  he  live?'* 

"  On  the  remainder,"  anfwered  the  pen- 
floner. 

"  Why  the  whole  is  but  fixpence  a-day," 
refumed  Mrs.  Barnet;  "  and  to  me  it  feems 
a  miracle  how  they  contrive  to  live  on  it." 
"  Britifh  foldiers  are  famous  for  perform- 
ing miracles,"  replied  the  veteran ;  "  and 
they  actually  perform  a  greater  than  you 
imagine;  for  they  do  contrive  to  live  on  lefe 
than  fixpence  a  day." 

"  Lefs !"  cried  Mrs.  Barnet. 
"  Ay  !  lefsj  madam;  God  love  your  foul !" 
added  the  foldier :  "  a  private  has  not  fix- 
pence  a  day  to  fubfift  on;  are  there  not 
ftoppages  for  fhoes,  and  {lockings,  and 
fhirts  ?  for  thofe  Government  allows  cannot 
ferve  all  the  year  round ;  and  in  fome  regi- 
ments there  are  ftoppages  for  fuperfluous 
articles  of  drefs:— fome  commanding  offi- 
cers pay  for  thefe  out  of  their  own  pockets, 
but  others  do  not;  and  it  is  very  hard  on 
*3  the 


154  EDWARD. 

the  men  to  be  obliged  to  pay  for  fome  kick- 
ihaws  that  are  of  no  ufe,  but  to  make  them 
look  fmarter  on  the  parade,  and  alfo  to  have 
the  flower  puffed  on  their  heads  that  would 
help  to  make  a  pudding  for  their  bellies ; 
in  my  notion,  this  is  not  only  curfedly  hard 
hearted,  but  alfo  damn'd  fooliih,  aiking  your 
ladyihip's  pardon ;  for  what  fignifies  making 
fops  of  Britim  foldiers ;  we  fhall  never  beat 
the  French  at  foppery." 

a  I  fancy  not,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  You  may  fwear  it,  madam,"  added  the 
foldier;  "  your  Frenchmen  are  all  matters  of 
the  art ;  whereas  the  fineft  courtiers  in  Eng- 
land, as  I  have  been  told,  are  mere  journey- 
men ;  and  when  they  try  to  imitate  the  French, 
they  are  like  a  parcel  of  awkward  recruits, 
compared  to  a  company  of  old  foldiers." 

"  I  have  heard  fo  alfo,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Then  why  (hould  we  pretend  to  con- 
tend  with  them  at  their  own  weapons?" 
added  the  foldier;  "  finglifh  foldiers  fhould 
ftick  to  the  old  gun  and  bayonet;  and 
confidering  how  well  they  can  ufe  them 
in  defence  of  their  country,  I  really  do 
think  the  country  might  allow  them  a 
*  7  little 


EDWARD.  155 

little  more  pay; — but  at  prefent,  I  do  allure 
your  ladyfhip,  they  feldom  have  more  than 
fourpence  half- penny,  and  never  above 
fivepence  a-day,  to  fubfift  on." 

"  It  is  too'little  indeed,  friend,"  faid  Mrs. 
Barnet. 

"  But  for  all  that,"  refumed  the  foldier, 
"  if  your  ladyfhip  had  only  feen  how  cheer- 
fully they  afcended  the  precipices,  and  with 
what  fpirit  they  fought  on  the  heights  of 
Abraham,  you  would  have  thought  that 
every  man  had  dined  at  a  fhilling  or- 
dinary." 

"  If  it  depended  on  me,  they  fhould  never 
have  dined  at  a  worfe,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Only  get  an  addition  of  threepence,  or 
even  twopence  a-day,  to  their  pay,  and  that 
will  fatisfy  them,  madam,"  added  the  foldier. 

"  I  heartily  wifli,  my  honeft  fellow,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Barnet,  "  that  it  were  practicable 
to  augment  the  pay  of  both  officers  aad  fol- 
diers  to-morrow." 

"  Practicable!  I  have  been  told,  pleafe 
your  ladyfliip,"  rejoined  the  foldier, 
"  though  I  can  hardly  believe  it,  that  certain 
men,  who  were  never  either  in  the  army 

or 


156  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

or  navy,  but  only  ferve  the  Minifter  at 
home,  are  able  to  lay  by,  within  a  trifle,  as 
much  money  at  the  end  of  the  year  as  even 
a  full  Colonel,  or  a  Captain  of  a  man  of  war, 
who  ferves  his  king  and  country  abroad. 


EDWARD. 


CHAP.     XVII. 

See  yonder  poor  o'er-labour'd  wight, 

So  abjeft,  mean,  and  vile, 
Who  begs  a  brother  of  the  earth 

To  give  him  leave  to  toil ; 
And  fee  his  lordly  fellow  worm 

The  poor  petition  fcorn, 
Unmindful,  tho'  a  weeping  wife 

And  helplefs  offspring  mourn. 

BURNS. 

NSTEAD  of  taking  any  notice  of  what  the 
foldier  faid,  at  the  conclufion  of  the  laft 
chapter,  Mrs.  Barnet  afked,  "  Pray,  did  you 
not  fay  that  you  flill  did  fome  work  as  a 
gardener?" 

"  Yes,  madam,"  replied  he ;  "  for  I  was 
bred  to  the  bufmefsof  a  gardener  in  my  own 
country,  before  I  lifted  as  a  foldier ;  and  I 
am  always  glad  to  be  employed,  when  I  can 
work;  becaufe,  over  and  above  the  wages, 
it  puts  me  in  mind  of  Auld  Lang  Syn  ; 
that  is  to  fay,"  added  the  foldier,  after  he 
had  wiped  his  eyes,  "  of  my  native  country, 

and 


I 


158  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

and  my  relations  and  friends,  who  are  dead 
and  gone.*' 

**  Do  you  never  think  of  returning  to  your 
own  country  ?"  faid  fhe. 

**  I  have  often  thought  of  it,"  anfwered 
the  foldier ;  "  but  I  cannot  leave  Margery, 
•who  loves  England,  which  is  her  native 
country,  as  vrell  as  I  do  mine;  for  (he  is 
blinded  by  prejudice,  and  befides,  fhe  is 
unable  for  the  journey,  fo  I  am  under  the 
neceflrty  of  leaving  my  bones  on  this  fide  of 
the  Tweed." 

"  Did  not  you  fay  that  you  ftill  did 
fome  work  as  a  gardener  ?" 

"  I  do,"  replied  he. 

"  In  whofe  garden  do  you  work  at  pre- 
fer?" 

"  I  ufed  to  work  in  Sir  Mathew  Maw- 
kifhV'  the  foldier  anfwered ; "  but  it  feems 
he  took  offence  at  fome  words  I  threw  out, 
when  the  lame  failor  was  hurt  on  the  heath ; 
and  fo  he  ordered  his  gardener  not  to  employ 
me  any  more." 

"  Did  that  put  you  to  much  inconvem- 
ency?"  Mrs.  Barnet  afked. 

"It 


EDWARD.  159 

"  It  has  proved  a  very  great  lofs,  and  has 
given  me  much  vexation,"  replied  the  fol- 
dier  ;  "  becaufe  what  I  earned  by  garden- 
work,  when  added  to  the  penfion,  enabled 
Margery  and  me  to  aflift  a  poor  neighbour 
now  and  then ;  or  to  give  refrefhment  to  a 
wandering  ftranger,  like  this  tired  foldier  ; 
but  what  made  it  fall  very  hard  was,  that 
after  I  had  been  long  out  of  work,  and 
confequently  without  a  fixpence  of  money, 
poor  Margery  herfelf  chanced  to  fall  fick  ; 
I  was  obliged  to  run  a  little  in  debt  to  pro- 
cure comfortable  affiftance  to  her ;  and  to 
clear  this,  when  fhe  recovered,  I  waited  on 
Sir  Mathew,  and  begged  that  his  honour 
would  allow  his  gardener  to  employ  me 
as  before ;  being  more  eager  than  ever  to 
fave  a  little  money  to  do  juftice  to  my  cre- 
ditors, who  were  all  poor  people,  diftrefled 
for  the  want  of  what  I  owed  them :  but 
Sir  Mathew,  who  has  rather  a  hardim.  kind 
of  a  heart,  called  me  an  infolent  old  rafcal, 
and  fwore  that  I  fhould  never  have  another 
farthing  of  his  money:  and  never  fince 
our  grenadiers  were  repulfed  from  the  in- 
trenchments  at  Montmorenci,  did  I  feel  a 

heavier 


160  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

heavier  heart,  pleafe  your  ladyfhip,  than  I 
returned  with  that  day." 

"  No  wonder,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet  j  "  it  was 
enough  to  drive  you  to  deipair." 

"  I  never  give  way  to  defpair,"  replied 
the  foldier,  "  for  it  is  of  no  ufe ;  and  fo  I 
make  it  a  rule  always  to  keep  it  off." 

"  How  do  you  contrive  that  r" 
"  By  always  trufting  to  Providence,  and 
fometimes  taking  a  dram,"  anfwered  he ; 
"  for  is  not  there  a  righteous  God  above 
who  governs  all  ?  and  if  there  is  black 
clouds  and  ftorms  to-day,  may  there  not  be 
fair  weather  to-morrow  ?  and  is  there  not 
more  fun-fhine  than  black  clouds  upon  the 
whole,  even  in  this  world,  which  gives  me 
good  hopes  for  the  next? — And  the  very 
next  day,  pleafe  your  Ladyihip,  the  parfon 
of  this  parifh  hearing  of  my  diftrefs  gave 
me  a  guinea,  which  cleared  me  of  debt; 
and  he  has  fmce  recommended  me  to,  a 
farmer,  who  fometimes  gives  me  a  job  of 
work,  and  pays  me  very  generoufly-^-but 
as  this  cannot  always  be  depended  on,  and 
as  Sir  Mathew  is  wy  enemy,  my  wife  and 

I  are 


EDWARD.  161 

I  are  refolved  to  fhift  our  quarters,  but  have 
not  yet  fixed  where  to  dired:  our  march." 

"  Let  Margery  and  you  dired:  your  march 
to  the  village  where  I  live,"  faid  Mrs.  Bar- 
net  ;  "  I  know  of  a  more  convenient  houfe 
for  you  there  than  that  you  are  now  in ;  and 
{hall  enfure  you  of  conftant  work  as  a 
gardener;  fo  you  may  leave  this  as  foon 
as  you  pleafe." — She  then  gave  him  di- 
redions  where  to  come,  and  having  flipt  a 
guinea  into  his  hand,  which  fhe  told  him 
was  for  himfelf,  fhe  gave  him  half-a- guinea 
more  for  his  gueft,  faying,  "  I  did  not  know 
that  a  poor  foldier  had  both  ftockings  and 
{hoes  to  provide  out  of  his  pay."  She  then 
bid  him  farewell,  in  the  midft  of  the 
foldier's  bleffings,  who,  while  he  poured 
them  in  abundance  on  Mrs.  Barnet,  did 
not  forget  little  Edward. 

A  fliort  time  after  this,  the  foldier  and  his 
wife,  having  difpofed  of  the  moveables  they 
did  not  think  proper  to  take  with  them,  re- 
moved to  the  village  near  which  Mrs.  Bar- 
net  lived,  where  they  found  a  fnug  habita- 
tion ready,  into  which  they  were  conduded 
by  Mr.  Barnet's  footman  and  Edward,  who 
met  them  as  they  entered  the  village. 

VOL.  I.  M 


162  E  D  W  A  R  IX 


CHAP.     XVIII. 

Do  not  as  fome  ungracious  paftors  do, 
Shew  me  the  fteep  and  thorny  way  to  heaven  j- 
Whilit,  like  a  puft  and  recklefs  libertine, 
Himfelf  the  primrofe  path  of  dalliance  treads, 
And  recks  not  his  own  rede. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

•1T7HILE  Mrs.  Barnet  cheriihed  and  culti- 
vated the  feeds  of  candour  and  be- 
nevolence, which  feemed  fpontaneoufly  to 
germinate  in  the  bread  of  this  boy,  fhe  was 
at  pains  to  imprefs  upon  his  mind  the  ne- 
ceffity  of  diligence  and  clofe  application, 
for  the  acquifition  of  thofe  accomplifhments 
which  would  render  him  useful  and  re- 
fpeclable.  She  made  him  fenfible,  even  at 
that  early  age,  of  his  very  peculiar  fituatior>, 
and  explained  in  gentle  terms,  that  he  had 
nothing  to  depend  upon  to  recommend  him 
to  favout  in  the  world,  but  his  perfonal 
talents  and  accomplifhments ;  giving  him 
to  underftand  at  the  fame  time,  that  with 
a  perfcvering  and  vigorous  exertion  of  thefe, 

he 


EDWARD.  163 

he  would  be  more  efteemed  and  more  efti- 
mable  than  thofe  who,  ftarting  in  life  with 
greater  advantages,  were  lefs  attentive  to 
the  means  of  improvement. — This  doctrine 
funk  deep  into  the  boy's  mind,  young  as 
he  was  ;  and  the  rapid  progrefs  he  after- 
wards made  in  various  attainments  was 
probably  owing  to  its  influence. — Above  all, 
Mrs.  Barnet  was  affiduous  to  inculcate  every 
principle  of  religion  and  virtue  of  which 
{he  thought  his  underftanding  fufceptible, 
and  without  which,  ihe  aflured  him,  all 
other  attainments  would  fail  to  render  him 
happy,  either  in  this  world  or  the  next. 

After  fome  inftrudicns  of  this  nature,  flio 
faid  one  day,  "  Well,  my  dear,  I  may  rely 
on  your  promife,  that  you  will  be  very  di- 
ligent at  fchool  ?" 

Edward.  Yes,  indeed  you  may. 

Mrs.  B.  If  you  fhould  deceive  me,  the 
lofs  will  fall  on  yourfelf. 

Ed.  I  don't  care  what  falls  on  myfelf, 
but  I  will  never  deceive  you. 

Mrs.  B.  You  are  fenfible  how  fhame- 
ful  it  is  to  break  a  promife  ?  (The  boy  was 
filent.) 

M  2  Mrs. 


164  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

Mrs.  B.  I  am  perfuadecl  you  never  tell 
lies?  (No  anfwer.) 

Mrs.  B.  What  does  this  mean  ?  Don't 
you  know  that  it  is  a  great  fault  to  tell  what 
is  not  true  ? 

Ed.  Yes,  I  have  been  told  fo. 

Mrs.  B.  Surely  then  you  would  not  be 
guilty  of  it  ?  (He  made  no  anfwer.) 

Mrs,  B.  What !  Do  you  ever  tell  lies  ? 

Ed.  Ye— Yes,  (replied  he  fobbing,)  I 
do  fometimes. 

Mrs.  B.  I  am  very  forry  for  it. 

Ed.  I  am  very  forry  for  it  too. 

Mrs.  B.  How  came  you  to  be  guilty  of 
it  then  ? 

fid.  I  never  was  guilty  of  it,  till  I  was 
feverely  whipt  for  acknowledging  the  truth. 

Mrs.  B.  But  have  you  not  been  told 
that  liars  go  to  hell  ? 

Ed.  Yes,  the  fchool-mafter  of  the  work- 
houfe  told  me  fo. 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  was  you  not -much  more 
afraid  of  going  to  hell  than  of  being  whipt? 

Ed.  No,  I  was  more  afraid  of  being 
whipt  than  of  going  to  hell. 

6  Mrs. 


EDWARD.  t65 

Mrs.  B.  How  came  that ;  for  you  muft 
furely  know  that  hell  is  an  infinitely  greater 
punifhment  ? 

Ed.  Yes,  but  hell  is  a  long  while  after 
this,  and  the  mafter  was  prepared  to  whip 
me  inftantly. 

However  weak  fuch  a  manner  of  think- 
ing may  feem,  Mrs.  Barnet  could  not  be 
furprifed  to  find  it  in  a  child  of  his  age, 
particularly  as  fo  many  men  and  women  of 
every  age  feem  to  be  influenced  by  the 
fame  kind  of  reafoning. 

Refuming  the  converfation,  after  a  (hort 
paufe,  "  Indeed,  my  dear,"  faid  me,  "  you 
have  acted  with  great  folly  and  weaknefs : 
Would  you  agree  to  be  hanged  to-morrow 
rather  than  bear  a  pinch  of  the  ear  to-night  ? 

Ed.  No,  I  would  not. 

Mrs.  B.  But  you  did  fomething  like  this, 
when  rather  than  bear  the  pain  of  being 
whipt,  you  preferred  the  rifle  of  going  to 
hell. 

The  boy  feemed  a  little  embarraffed  by 

this — at  length,  he  faid,  "  At  firft,  when  the 

mafter  told  me  I  mould  go  to  hell  if  I  told 

M  3  lies, 


1 66  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

lies,   I  believed   what   he  faid,  but  after- 
ward I  began  to  doubt  it." 

"  How  could  you  have  any  doubts  re- 
garding what  your  mailer  aflured  you  ?"  re- 
joined £he. 

"  Becaufe  I  afterwards  difcovered,"  an- 
fwered  Edward,  "  that  the  matter  told  lies 
himfelf ;  which  I  thought  he  would  hardly 
have  done,  if  he  had  really  believed  that 
liars  were  fent  to  hell/' 

"  That  matter  is  a  very  bad  man,  and 
has  fet  you  an  ill  example,"  faid  Mrs.  Bar- 
net  ;  "  but  now  that  you  are  forry  for  hav- 
ing been  guilty  of  fuch  a  mean  thing  as 
lying,  I  hope  you  will  avoid  it  in  future — 
I  could  not  love  a  liar." 

"  I  never  will  tell  another  lie  in  all  my 
life,"  replied  he,  with  vehemence ;  "  no, 
not  although  I  were  to  be  whipt  a  dozen 
times  for  telling  the  truth. " 

"  That  is  a  brave  boy,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet; 
"  and  the  way  to  be  loved  and  refpected." 

•The  candour  he  had  difplayed  in  ac- 
knowledging what  he  could  have  fo  eafily 
concealed,  increafed  the  good  opinion  fhe 
had  of  his  character,  and  the  affectionate  in- 

terca 


EDWARD.  167 

tereft  (he  took  in  him ;  while  the  wholefome 
nourimment  with  which  he  was  fupplied, 
and  the  encouragement  he  received  at  Mrs. 
Barnet's  houfe,  had  the  happieft  effect  on 
his  confthudon  and  looks,  and  he  gained 
freih  vigour  and  beauty  every  day.  The  na- 
tural indolence  and  indifference  of  Mr.  Bar- 
net  himielf  was  gradually  overcome  by  the 
charms  of  his  countenance  and  the  amufe- 
ment  of  his  prattle.  To  allow  the  growing 
partiality  to  take  root  in  the  heart  of  her 
hufband,  Mrs.  Barnet  found  pretexts  for 
poftponing  the  boy's  being  fent  to  fchool : 
in  a  fhort  time  however  fhe  perceived  that 
it  would  require  as  much  addrefs  to  prevail 
on  her  hufband  to  allow  him  to  be  boarded  out 
of  the  houfe,  as  it  had  been  to  induce  him 
to  admit  the  boy  into  it:  Mr.  Barnet  how- 
ever agreed,  at  laft,  to  let  him  go ;  and  fhe 
informed  Edward  that  he  was  to  leave 
them  the  following  day.  At  this  news  his 
chearfulnefs  forfook  him,  and  he  feemed 
dejeded. 

"  Nay,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet ;  «  you  muft 
not  look  fo  forrowful  at  the  thought  of  go- 
ing to  fchool." 

M  4  "  It 


i68  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"  It  is  not  for  that,"  faid  he,  ready  to'cry. 

"  If  going  to  fchool  makes  you  look  for- 
rowful,  I  mall  not  love  you,"  continued 
me. 

"  I  do  not  look  forrowful,"  cried  he  ; 
brufhing  the  tears  haftily  from  his  eyes  with 
the  back  of  his  hand,  and  attempting  to 
fmile  in  her  face. 

"  You  ought  not  to  be  forry  to  do  what 
is  for  your  good,"  added  me. 

"  I  will  never  be  forry  to  do  what  you 
choofe,"  replied  he,  "  whether  it  is  for  my 
good  or  not." 


EDWARD.  169 


CHAP.     XIX. 

Et  genus,  et  formam  regina  pecunia  donat; 
Ac  bene  nummatum  decorat  Suadela  Venufque. 

HORAT. 

/•T-VHE  fchool  to  which  Edward  was  fent 
had  once  enjoyed  a  good  reputation, 
through  the  merits  of  the  mailer  by  whom 
it  was  eftablifhed  :  at  his  death,  the  widow 
endeavoured  to  keep  it  up  by  the  means 
of  the  ufhers;  but  me  foon  after  married 
a  man  grofsly  ignorant,  and  in  all  re- 
fpe&s  unfit  for  the  office  of  a  fchool- mafter. 
The  fchool  however  continued  to  thrive 
through  the  ftrength  of  its  former  repu- 
tation. 

Seminaries  of  learning,  as  well  as  parti- 
cular fhops,  are  fometimes  frequented  more 
on  account  of  what  they  have  been,  than 
what  they  are:  fo  many  inftances  of  this 
might  be  produced,  that  it  feems  to  be  a 
prevailing  opinion  in  this  Ifland,  that  talents 
and  genius,  like  cats,  are  raore  attached  to 

particular 


170  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

particular  walls  and  houfes,  than  to  the  per- 
fons  who  refide  within  them. 

Mrs.  Barnet  was  induced  to  board  the  boy 
at  this  fchool,  by  the  advice  of  thofe  whom 
fhe  confidered  as  better  judges  than  herfelf. 

Although  the  head  mafter,  or  rather  the 
undertaker  of  this  fchool,  was  devoid  of  fenfe 
and  knowledge,  one  of  the  ufhers  poflefTed 
a  confiderable  lhare  of  both.  Edward  fortu- 
nately was  put  under  his  particular  care,  and 
was  fcon  diftinguimed  by  the  quicknefs  of 
his  npprehenfion  and  his  affiduity  in  fludy. 
Mrs.  Barnet  was  happy  to  hear  accounts 
of  this  nature,  and  ftill  'more,  when  fhe 
underftood  that  he  was  efteemed  and  loved 
by  his  fchool-fellows. 

After  remaining  here  two  or  three 
years,  he  made  a  diflinguifhed  figure  at  the 
public  examinations,  and  never  failed  to  ob- 
tain one  or  two  of  the  prizes  diftributed  on 
fuch  occafions;  but  he  had  the  misfortune 
at  laft  to  incur  the  difpleafure  of  a  perfon  of 
fuch  importance,  as  entirely  altered  his 
fituation. 

Lady  Lofty,  at  this  time,  lived  at  a  villa 
at  no  great  diftance  from  this  fchool;  which 

tempted 


EDWARD.  i?I 

tempted  her  to  fend  her  nephew,  Lord  Fil- 
lagree,  a  boy  about  two  years  older  than 
Edward,  as  a  boarder  there.  The  refpe&ful 
attention  paid  to  this  young  nobleman  by 
the  mafter  arid  miftrefs,  his  being  fent  for 
every  Friday  evening,  and  carried  back  every 
Monday  morning,  in  his  aunt's  chariot, 
added  to  his  title,  gave  him  an  importance 
among  his  fchool-fellows,  which  his  difpo- 
fition  and  acquirements  would  not  have  pro- 
duced. 

It  had  been  an  eftablifhed  cuftom  with  the 
former  mafter  of  this  fchool,  to  give  the 
boys  fome  general  inftructions  every  Sun- 
day, regarding  their  religious  duties  and 
moral  conduct. — This  was  thought  to  have 
a  good  effed,  and  was  confidered  as  one 
caufe  of  the  profperity  of  the  fchool.  The 
prefent  mafter  was  willing  therefore  to  keep 
up  fuch  a  profitable  inftitution ;  and  although 
utterly  difqualified  for  affifting  the  boys  in 
their  other  ftudies,  he  undertook  the  Sunday 
lectures  himfelf.  His  method  was  to  make 
the  boys  read  portions  of  the  Bible  ;  there  he 
ought  to  have  flopped,  or  at  leaft  have  bor- 
rowed the  explanation  of  fome  abler  com- 
mentator 


172  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

mentator  than  himfelf ;  but  with  a  felf-con- 
ceit,  which  often  attends  ignorance,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  afk  foolifh  queftions,  and  to  make 
ridiculous  remarks  on  the  facred  text. 

As  when,  by  the  fenfation  of  hunger,  a 
man  in  a  weakly  ftate  becomes  fenfible  that 
his  flomach  is  empty,  it  forms  a  favourable 
prefumption;  fo  it  is  much  in  favour  of  him, 
•who  labours  under  a  deficiency  of  know- 
ledge, to  be  fenfible  of  his  ignorance.  But 
when  a  man's  ftomach  is  empty,  if  he  has 
the  fenfation  of  its  being  full,  he  is  certainly 
a  good  deal  out  of  order:  our  fchool-mafter 
laboured  under  this  miftake,  refpecting  his 
head ;  although  uncommonly  empty,  he, 
poor  man!  imagined  it  remarkably  full, 
which  prompted  him,  as  it  has  done  fome 
others,  to  comment  on  the  Bible,  without 
making  any  thing  clearer  or  better  under- 
ftood  than  it  was  before,  except  the  ftate  of 
their  own  underftanding. 

Lord  Fillagree,  contrary  to  cuftom,  had 
been  left  one  particular  Friday  at  fchool, 
owing  to  his  aunt's  being  on  a  vifit ;  (he  was 
to  return  however  on  the  Sunday  morning, 
and  the  fchool  being  on  her  way,  fhe  called 

at 


E  D  AV  A  R  D.  173 

at  the  time  when  the  mailer  was  employed 
in  the  ,  pious  talk  above  mentioned.  Defir- 
ous  of  being  witnefg  to  the  fuperiority  of 
her  young  kinfman  over  plebeian  boys,  fhe 
defired  that  her  prefence  might  make  no 
interruption,  but  that  the  examination  might 
be  continued.  The  mafter,  proud  of  an  op- 
portunity of  difplaying  his  fagacity  in  com- 
menting on  the  fcriptures,  gladly  aflented. 

Her  ladymip  being  feated,  the  mafter 
calkd  up  the  young  Lord,  and  being  fenfible 
that  he  was  apt  to  blunder,  to  avoid  the 
probability  of  leading  him  aftray,  the  maf- 
ter determined  to  take  no  new  path,  but  to 
keep  to  that  which  they  had  frequently  trod- 
den already :  in  conformity  with  this  refo- 
lution,  he  began  with  the  very  firft  chapter 
of  the  Bible. 

"  Pray,  my  Lord,"  faid  the  mafter, 
"  does  your  Lordfhip  recollect  how  long 
time  God  took  to  create  the  world?" 

"  Six  days,"  replied  his  Lordfhip. 

"  Admirably  anftvered,"  faid  the  mafter  ; 
"  and  does  your  Lordfhip  recollect  what  he 
did  on  the  feventh?" 

"He 


174  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

"  He  reded  from  his  work,"  faid  Lord 
Fillagree. 

"  Right,  my  Lord,"  cried  the  matter  ; 
u  from  which,  as  I  have  often  informed 
you,  men  are  mflrucled  to  reft  when  their 
work  is  finifhed,  which  otherwife  they 
might  neglect  to  do;  for  it  is  a  melan- 
choly truth,  that  mankind  in  general  are  too 
apt  to  neglect  their  mod  important  duties. 
Now,  my  Lord,  pray  be  pleafed  to  inform 
me,  who  was  the  firft  man  in  the  world?" 

<c  Adam,"  replied  the  youth  with  quick- 
nefs,  and  looking  with  exultation  to  his 
aunt,  who  fmiled  and  nodded,  by  way  of 
confirmation,  as  if  fhe  had  faid,  You  have 
Lit  on  the  very  perfon. 

"  Very  well  anfwered  indeed,  my  Lord !" 
faid  the  mafter ;  "  Adam  certainly  was  the 
very  firft  man  in  the  whole  world ;  and 
what  puts  this  beyond  all  contraverfy  is, 
that  he  was  created  before  any  other  man, 
woman,  or  child;  therefore  none  but  an 
Atheift  can  deny  that  Adam  was  the  firft 
man  in  the  world. — And  pray,  my  Lord, 
\vho  was  the  •wtfefl  man  in  the  world?" 

8  "  Eve," 


EDWARD.  17- 

"  Eve,"  replied  his  Lordfhip,  with  a  tri- 
umphant air. — At  which  all  the  boys  burft 
into  a  loud  fit  of  laughter,  which  neither  the 
prefence  of  the  countefs,  nor  the  authority  of 
the  mafter,  bawling  filence,  could  fupprefs 
for  fome  minutes;  unfortunately  Ewardrs 
laugh  continued  a  fecond  longer  than  the 
reft. 

"  Your  Lordfhip  mlftcok  the  queftion," 
faid  the  mafter,  eager  to  relieve  him  ;  "  You 
imagined,  no  doubt,  that  I  afked  who  was 
the  wifeft  •woman  in  the  world.  And  to 
that  queftion  your  anfwer  is  very  accurate, 
for  as  Eve  was  \hejirft  woman  in  the  world,, 
{he  muft  have  been  alfo  the  wifefl^  at  that 
time.'' 

But  the  young  Lord  was  too  much  dif- 
turbed  by  the  laughing,  to  avail  himfelf  of 
this  very  ingenious  hint. 

"  No,"  cried  he ;  "  it  was  all  owing  to 
you  yourfelf,.  for  you  put  the  wrong  quef- 
tion, and  afked  queftion  fifth  before  quef- 
tion fourth,  fo  you  did,  for  here  it  is,'* 
(hewing  a  paper,  with  which  he  had  pre- 
•vioufly  been  fupplied,  to  affift  his  me- 
mory : 


176  EDWARD. 

mory:  "  Look  there,  queftion  fourth,  e  Who 
was  the  firft  woman  in  the  world  ?'  anfwer, 
4  Eve;'  but  inftead  of  that,  when  I  ex- 
pelted  queftion  fourth,  you  afked  queftion 
fifth,  that  you  did." 

"  Do  not  cry,  my  dear,"  faid  Lady  Lofty, 
wiping  the  tears  from  his  eyes: — "  You 
anfwered  in  the  right  order,  and  your  mif- 
take  was  all  owing  to  the  diforder  of  others, 
and  the  impertinent  laugh  of  thefe  boys, 
particularly  of  that  pert  jackanapes  there," 
pointing  to  Edward, — "  whom,  let  me  tell 
you,  Sir,"  added  ihe,  turning  to  the  mafter, 
"  you  ought  to  teach  better  manners." 

She  then  withdrew,  taking  the  young 
Lord  with  her,  and  the  mafter  attended  them 
to  the  carriage  with  many  apologies  and 
afiurances  that  his  Lordfhip  fhould  have 
ample  fatisfaction. 


EDWARD.  177 


CHAP.     XX. 

Non  vultus  inftantis  tyranni 

Mente  quatit  folida.  HOR. 

'"TpHE  next  day,  as  foon  as  his  Lordfhip 
returned,  the  mafter,  in  a  formal  ha- 
rangue, endeavoured  to  convince  the  boys 
of  the  indecency  of  their  behaviour ;  he  then 
punifhed  Edward  feverely,  becaufe  of  th£ 
peculiar  enormity  of  his,  and  infifted  that 
each  of  them  fhould  aik  his  Lordftiip's  par- 
don ; — a  ceremony  with  which  all  complied, 
except  Edward  ;  when  it  came'  to  his  turn, 
he  faid  that  having  already  fuffered  one  pu- 
nifhment,  he  thought  it  unjuft  that  he  ihould 
be  fubjected  to  another  for  the  fame  crime. 

The  mafter  told  him,  that  what  was  now 
required  was  not  a  punifhment,  but  a  repa- 
ration due  to  his  Lordfhip. 

Edward  faid,  he  confidered  it  as  more 
fevere  than  the  former,  and  refufed  to  com- 
ply. 

VOL.  i,  N  With 


17$  EDWARD. 

With  an  intemperance  of  manner,  na- 
tural to  the  abject-minded  when  poffefled 
of  power,  the  mafter  infifted  on  his  diredly 
begging  pardon  of  the  young  Lord,  under 
pain  of  being  more  feverely  whipt  than  he 
had  been  already.  Edward  fteadily  refufed. 

The  mafter  then  put  his  threats  in  execu- 
tion ;  and  as  he  pofiefled  in  hardnefs  of  heart 
what  he  wanted  in  underftanding,  he  con- 
tinued the  punimment  with  unprecedented 
cruelty. — Fatigued  himfelf,  and  almoft  out 
of  breath,  "  Now,  Sir,"  faid  he  to  Edward, 
who  had  not  allowed  a  groan  to  efcape 
him,  "  what  is  your  determination  now  ?" 

"  Juft  what  it  was,"  anfwered  the  boy 
with  firmnefs. 

This  anfwer  was  followed  by  a  bur  ft  of 
applaufe  from  fome  of  the  boys; — and  the 
mafter  perceiving  rage  and  the  fpirit  of  mu- 
tiny in  their  countenances,  thought  it  moft 
prudent  not  to  pufh  any  farther  a  conteft 
which  filled  the  fpectators  with  admiration 
of  Edward,  and  might  be  attended  with  dif- 
agreeable  confequences  to  himfelf. 

It  was  impofiible  for  this  young  Noble- 
man, not  to  perceive  that  from  this  time 

the 


EDWARD.  179 

the  generality  of  the  boys  behaved  to  him 
with  a  degree  of  coldnefs  and  neglect, 
Which  all  the  pains  he  took  to  conciliate 
their  minds,  and  all  the  fplendor  of  his  rank, 
could  not  entirely  overcome,  whilft  the  marks 
of  regard  and  affection  they  manifefted  to 
Edward,  were  too  ftrong  and  too  genuine, 
not  to  mortify  his  Lordfhip  exceedingly  ; — 
but  what  gave  him  more  uneafmefs  than 
all  the  reft,  was  to  obferve,  that  a  boy  of  the 
name  of  Clifton,  diftinguimed  for  his  fpirit 
and  vivacity  ftill  more  than  by  the  noble 
family  from  which  he  was  a  defcendant,  and 
the  great  fortune  to  which  he  was  heir,  had 
formed  a  friendfhip  with  Edward,  which 
he  cultivated  with  redoubled  earneftnefs  ever 
fmce  his  punifhment. 

In  the  view  of  ingratiating  himfelf  with 
his  fchool-fellows,  and  mortifying  Edward, 
whom  he  hated,  becaufe  he  was  confcious 
that  Edward  had  fome  reafon  to  hate  him, 
the  young  Lord  defired  his  aunt  to  requeft 
a  holiday  to  the  boys,  for  the  purpofe  of 
giving  a  collation  in  a  Summer  Houfe 
at  the  end  of  her  garden  neareft  the 
K  2  fchool; 


i8a  EDWARD. 

fchooj ;  to  which  they  were  all  invited,  except 
Edward. 

Clifton,  who  was  a  favourite  of  her  Lady- 
fhip,  received  a  particular  invitation;  but  he 
refufed  to  go,  noturithftanding  the  repeated 
acjvice  of  the  mafter.  Clifton,  who  was  about 
the  fame  age  with  Edward,  had  been  acci- 
dentally abfent  from  the  Sunday  examina- 
tion, but  was  witnefs  to  the  fcene  on  the 
Monday  following ;  which  had  excited  in 
his  mind,  admiration  of  Edward,  hatred  of 
the  mafter,  and  contempt  for  his  Lordfhip. 

When  Lady  Lofty  underftood  that  Clif- 
ton was  not  come  with  the  other  boys,  (he 
fent  a  fre(h  meflage.  He  returned  for  an- 
fwer,  that  he  could  not  accept  of  her  invi- 
tation, being  engaged  to  pafs  the  day  with 
his  friend  Edward. 

Her  Ladyfhip  was  exceedingly  exa£- 
perated  by  this  anfwer,  which  converted 
all  her  partiality  for  Clifton  into  hatred,  and 
doubled  her  indignation  againft  his  friend. 

The  growing  friendmip  between  Clifton 
and  Edward  gave  great  fatisfaction  to  Mrs. 
Barnct ;  for  (he  thought  the  former  a  fenfible 

and 


EDWARD.  181 

and  fpirited  boy,  and  hoped  that,  from  his 
connections  and  perfonal  influence,  he  might 
be  of  fervice  to  her  ward  in  his  progrefs 
through  life.  Clifton  had  often  vifited  her, 
in  company  with  his  friend,  and  happening 
to  call  one  day  in  his  abfence,  he  fpoke  of 
him  with  all  the  enthufiaftic  warmth  of 
youthful  friendfhip ;  and  in  the  heat  of 
his  eulogium,  he  alluded  to  the  memorable 
Sunday's  examination. 

As  Edward  himfelf  had  never  mentioned 
it,  Mrs.  Barnet  did  not  underftand  what  he 
pointed  at,  which  when  Clifton  perceived, 
he  gave  a  circumftantiaf  account-  of  the 
xvhole<  in  the  prefence  of  her  hufband,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Temple,  and  Mr.  Wormwood. 
They  were  all  (hocked  at  the  narrative  ;  the 
two  ladies  faid,  that  Edward  mould  be  im- 
mediately removed  from  the  fchool.  Mr; 
Temple  obferved,  that  it  would  be  right  to 
hear  what  the  mafter  had  to  fay  for  himfelf, 
before  any  other  ftep  were  taken.  Mr. 
Wormwood  faid,  that  fuch  a  tyrannical 
blockhead  ought  to  be  expofed  to  public 
ridicule  ;  and  Mr.  Barnet,  whofe  indignation 
N  3  was 


182  EDWARD. 

was  at  the  higheft,  declared  that  he  deferred 
to  be  ftarved. 

Mr.  Temple  went  next  day,  and  ftated 
what  he  had  heard  to  the  mailer.  The  man 
was  for  fome  time  unable  to  make  any  an- 
fwer ;  he  at  length  endeavoured  to  defend 
himfelf;  faying,  "  that  Edward  had  been 
juftly  punimed,  becaufe  it  was  owing  to 
his  indecent  laughter  that  th'e  young  Lord 
had  been  put  into  confufion,  and  had  made 
a  ridiculous  anfwer." 

"Pray,  Sir,"  faid  Mr.  Temple,  "did 
Edward  laugh  at  your  queftion,  or  at  his. 
Lordfhip's  anfwer  ?" 

"  At  the  anfwer,  to  be  fure,"  replied  the 
matter,  with  more  quicknefs  than,  fore- 
thought. 

"  Really,  Sir,"  refumed  Temple,  "  you 
feem  as  incapable  of  reafoning,  as  of  acting 
reafonably.  Since  it  was  the  young  Lord's 
anfwer  he  laughed  at,  how  could  his  laugh- 
ter be  the  caufe  of  the  anfwer?" 

"  How  could  it?"  repeated  the  mafter  in 
confufion. 

«  Unlefs, 


EDWARD.  183 

w  Unlefs,"  continued  Temple,  "  you  mean 
to  aflert  that  the  effect  precedes  the  caufe." 

"  I  do  not  pofitively  aflert  that  it  does," 
faid  the  mafter, — hardly  knowing  what,  he 
was  faying. 

*'  O !  you  do  not  ?"  continued  Temple. 

"  No,  Sir,  not  always,"  faid  the  mafter. 

"  Only  on  extraordinary  occafions,  I  fup- 
pofe,"  added  Temple. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  the  mafter,  "  only  on 
very  extraordinary  occafions,  fuch  a  thing 
might  perhaps  happen." 

"  What  might  happen  ?"  faid  Temple. 

"  That  which  you  juft  now  remarked, 
about  the  effect  of  the  caufe,"  replied  the 
fchoolmafter. 

Mr.  Temple,  ftrrugging  up  his  fhoul- 
ders,  demanded  Edward's  account ;  which 
having  paid,  he  conducted  the  boy  directly 
to  Mr.  Barnet's. 


EDWARD. 


CHAP.     XXL 

Le    caprice  de   notre  humeur   eft    encore  plus  bizarre 
.  que celui  de  la  fortune.  ROCHEPOUCAULT. 

T?DWARI>  was  received  affectionately  by 
Mrs.  Earner,  and  with  kindnefs  by  her 
hufband  ;  who,  during  his  confinement  to 
the  houfe,  found  fome  amufement  in  the 
boy's  company; — for  although  Barnet  never 
could  undergo  the  fatigue  of  reading  hitn- 
felf,  yet  he  could  fometimes  bear  to  hear 
a  few  pages  read  by  another, — and  he  lift- 
ened  with  more  patience  to  the  little  ftories 
which  Edward  felected  for  his  entertain- 
ment, than  he  had  ever  fhewed  on  like, 
occafions  before;  fo1  that  the  boy  was 
not  only  a  fource  of  amufement  to  Mr. 
Barnet,  but  a  powerful  auxiliary  to  his 
wife,  in  the  very  difficult  tafk  of  diverting 
his  caprices,  and  rendering  time  lefs  bur- 
denfome  to  him.  Mr.  Barnet's  fondnefs  for 
Edward  was  attended  with  one  circum- 
ftance  which  might  have  ruined  the  boy 

entirely; 


EDWARD.  18.; 

entirely ;  he  could  not  refrain  from  prefiing 
him  fornetimes  after  dinner,  to  drink  port 
wine.  One  day  after  Mrs.  Barnet  left  the 
room,  Mr.  Wormwood  interpofed,  when 
the  child  was  defired  to  take  another  glafs, 
faying  it  would  injure  his  health. 

"  Pprt  wine,"  replied  Barnet,  "  provided 
it  be  genuine,  can  injure  the  health  of  no 
mortal ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  as  I  myfelf  am 
a  proof,  it  has  a  great  tendency  to  promote 
health—" 

"  And  vivacity,"  added  Wormwood. 

"  Very  true,  coufm  Wormwood,"  faid 
Barnet,  not  remarking  the  irony  •,  *'  for  I 
am  never  in  fo  good  fpirits  as  after  a  .certain 
quantity  of  port,  and  I  have  never  been 
troubled  with  any  co-mplaint  fmce  I  took 
to  port,  except  the  gout,  and  now  and  then 
a  fit  of  indigeftion." 

Wormwood.  Do  you  not  think  thofe  fnf- 
ficient  ? 

Bgrnet.  Certainly,  Mr.  Wormwood  ;  and 
more  than  fufficient :  yet  they  are  not  owing 
to  port,  but  to  the  curfed  claret  and1  bur- 
gundy, -which  I  drank  in  my  youth ;  and 
the  reafon  is  plain. 

Wormwood. 


i86  ED  WARD. 

Wormwood.  I  will  thank  you  for  the  rea- 
fon  ;  for,  plain  as  it  is,  I  cannot  fee  it. 

Barnct.  The  reafon  is,  becaufe  they  are 
weaker,  and  colder  on  the  flomach. 

Wormwood.  Thofe  then  who  have  con- 
fined themfelves  all  their  lives  to  water, 
ihould  have  the  gout  oftener  and  more 
feverely  than  others. 

Barnet.  I  know  nothing  about  water- 
drinkers,  Mr.  Wormood  ;  I  keep  no  fuch 
company :  but  this  I  do  know  by  experience, 
that  genuine  port  wine  never  injured  the 
health  of  man,  woman,  or  child. 

Wormwood.  Your  experience  can  only  ,be 
derived  from  two  of  thofe  claflesj  you  can 
have  none  as  a  woman. 

Ear  net.  True,  nor  as  a  child. 

Wormwood.  That  is  not  quite  fo  clear. 

Barnet.  It  is  as  clear  as  day-light ;  for  I 
never  tafted  port  until  I  was  twenty- five 
years  of  age, 

Wormwood.  Many  people  continue  to  be 
children  beyond  that  period,  coufm ;  and 
I  know  one  who  is  a  very  great  child  even 
at  your  age. 

Mrs. 


EDWARD.  187 

Mrs.  Barnet  happening  to  return  to  the 
room,  her  hufband  faid,  <c  Mr.  Worm- 
wood pretends  that  claret  is  as  wholefome 
as  port ;  now  as  you,  my  dear,  are  fond  of 
neither,  I  appeal  to  you,  as  an  impartial 
judge,  whether  you  have  not  obferved  that 
port  wine  keeps  my  gout  fixed  to  my  feet, 
and  has  never  allowed  it  to  mount  to  my 
head,'1 

Mrs.  Barnet  acknowledged  that  port  wine 
feemed  to  agree  with  her  hufband  better 
than  claret,  and  fhe  thanked  Heaven  that 
the  gout  had  never  attacked  his  head. 

"  And  can  you  prove  to  me,"  faid  Mr. 
Barnet,  turning  with  a  triumphant  air  to 
Wormwood, "  that  I  mould  not  have  had  the 
gout  in  my  head  long  ago,  if  I  had  drank 

as  much  of  your  d d  wafhy  claret,  as  I 

have  done  of  port  ?" 

"  I  confefs,"  replied  Wormwood,  "  that 
I  cannot." 

"  Then  I  would  be  glad  to  know,"  re- 
fumed  Mr.  Barnet,  "  why  poor  Ned  here 
fhould  be  prevented  from  drinking  a  few 
glafles  of  port  wine  ?" 

7  Mr*. 


1 8*  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

Mrs.  Barnet  now  perceiving  what  had 
given  rife  to  the  difpute,  faid  to  her  huf- 
band,  u  That  although  port  was  unqueftion- 
ably  the  propereft  wine  for  people  fubjecl 
to  the  gout,  it  might  difagree  with  thofe 
who  were  not;  if  you  pleafe  therefore,  my 
dear,"  added  fhe,  "  let  Edward  abftain  from 
it,  until  he  fhall  have  had  one  fit;  after  which 
he  may  drink  it  as  you  do,  to  keep  the 
difeafe  from  his  head." 

After  mufing  a  little,  Mr.  Barnet  an- 
fwered,  "  what  you  fay,  my  dear,  ftandsto 
reafon," 

About  this  time,  Mr.  Temple,  who 
thought  very  highly  of  Edward's  abilities, 
recommended  a,  fchool  of  eminence  to  Mrs, 
Barnet,  faying,  "  It  would  be  a  great  pity 
if  fuch  prcmifing  talents  were  loft  for  want 
of  proper  cultivation." 

Mrs.  Barnet  was  of  the  fame  way  of 
thinking,  but  as  her  hufband  had  fhewn 
ill-humour  when  the  former  fchool  accounts 
were  paid,  and  as  fhe  knew  this  new  fchool 
would  be  much  more  expenfive,  fhe  was 
cautious  of  propofirig  that  tjie  boy  fhould 
be  put  to  it. 

Mr. 


EDWARD.  189 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Temple  faw  her  delicacy, 
and  agreed  to  feize  the  firft  opportunity  of 
bringing  about  what  fhe  wilhed,  without 
her  needing  to  interfere. 

They  were  both  at  breakfaft  one  day 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barnet;  Edward  was 
likewife  prefent ;  he  had  made  an  ob- 
fervation  or  two,  which  delighted  the 
whole  company,  but  in  a  particular  manner 
Mrs.  Barnet,  who,  addreffing  her  hufband 
after  Edward  had  left  the  room,  faid, "  I  am 
fure,  my  dear,  that  no  action  of  your  life  ' 
ever  gave  you  more  pleafure,  or  indeed  does 
you  more  credit,  than  your  generous  con- 
duct to  that  fine  boy." 

Mr.  Temple.  Every  body  praifes  you  for 
it. 

Mr.  Barnet.  Yes,  yes,  many  will  praife, 
for  praife  cofts  nothing ;  but  I  fancy  very 
few  will  imitate  me. 

Mrs.  Barnet.  So  much  the  more  honour- 
able for  you,  my  dear. 

Mr.  Temfle.  I  am  convinced  that  the 
boy  will  make  a  moft  refpectable  figure  in 
life,  and  do  great  credit  to  my  brother,  pro* 
vided  he  be  thoroughly  well  educated. 

9  Mr, 


190  EDWARD. 

Mr.  Barnet.  He  is  pretty  well  educated 
already. 

Mr.  'Temple.  Ay,  too  well  in  the  opinion 
cf  fomc  people. 

Mr.  Barnet.  What  people  are  thofe  ? 

Mr.  Temple.  The  people  who  run  about 
proclaiming  that  it  is  folly  in  you  to  fend  a 
boy  to  fchool,  to  be  taught  languages  for 
which  he  can  never  have  any  ufe. 

Mr.  Barnet.  How  do  they  know  what 
wfe  he  may  have  for  the  languages  ? 

Mr.  Temple.  They  aflert  that  you  ought 
to  make  him  a  tradefman. 

Mr.  Barnet.  I  do  not  regard  what  they 
aflert. 

Mr.  Temple.  You  muft  have  fome  regard 
to  the  world's  opinion. 

Mr.  Barnet.  I  do  not  care  fixpence  for 
the  world's  opinion  ;  I'll  judge  for  myfelf 
in  this  as  in  every  thing  elfe. 

Mr.  Temple.  You  cannot  prevent  the 
world  from  judging  alfo  j  and  the  world 
laugh  at  the  folly  of  giving  a  boy  an  edu- 
cation that  would  fit  him  for  one  of  the 

learned 


EDWARD.  i9I 

teamed  profeflions,  when  you  intend  to 
breed  him  a  tradefman. 

Barnet.  Perhaps  neither  you  nor  the 
world,  for  as  wife  as  you  think  yourfelves, 
know  what  I  intend  to  breed  him. 

Mr.  'Temple.  I  hope  at  leaft  you  will  not 
think  of  the  law. 

Mr.  Barnet.  Why  not  the  law,  if  I 
choofe  it  ? 

Mr.  Temple.  Becaufe  the  world  would 
blame  you  very  much. 

Mr.  Barnet.  The  world  may  go  and  be 

d 'd.  Am  I  to  mind  its  fancies  ?  It 

may  think  I  ought  to  breed  the  boy  a  cob- 
ler,  for  aught  1  know. 

Mr.  Temple.  Why  truly,  brother,  I  am 
convinced  that  many  people  would  not  cen- 
fure  you  fo  much  as  they  do,  if  you  were 
to  breed  him  a  cobler. 

Mr.  Barnet.  Oh,  they  would  not !  They 
are  very  obliging,  and  I  fuppofe  you  alfo  ; 
you  would  no  doubt  approve  mightily  of 
Edward's  being  bred  a  cobler? 

Mr.  Temple.  Why  not  ?  I  have  known  fe- 
veral  coblers  who  were  very  honeft  men. 

Mr.  Barnet  was  now  wrought  up  to  a 

violent 


192  EDWARD. 

violent  pafiion,  and  when  this  was  the  cafe 
he  did  not  mind  what  heafTerted.  And  "I," 
exclaimed  heA  "  have  known  feveral  lawyers 
who  were  as  honeft  men  as  your  coolers." 

Mr.  Temple.  Have  you,  indeed ! 

Mr.  Barnet.  Ay,  indeed;  and  honefterthan 
your  coblers,  or  your  fhoemakers,  or  even 
your  parfons  ;  what  do  you  fay  to  that  ? 

Mr.  Temple.  All  I  fhall  fay,  brother,  is, 
that  you  have  been  remarkably  fortunate  in 
your  law  acquaintance. 

Mr.  Barnet.  Fortunate  !  why  there  is  no 
act  of  parliament  I  hope  againft  a,  lawyer's 
being  an  honeft  man. 

Mr.  Temple.  No,  there  are  fupsrfluous 
ads  enough  without  that. 

Here  Mrs.  Barnet  thought  it  right  to  in- 
terpofe,  faying,  "  there  is  no  need  to  deter- 
mine as  yet  what  profeflion  the  boy  is  to  be 
bred  to,  he  has  hitherto — — " 

"  You  had  beft  notinterferc,mydear,"  cried 
Barnet ;  "  for  you  know  that  I  will  be  led  or 
influenced  by  no  mortal,  man,  woman,  or 
child ;  and  I  am  already  determined,  in 
fpite  of  thofe  wife  judges  who  blame  my 
having  the  boy  taught  Latin,  that  he  ftiall 

be 


EDWARD.  193 

be  fent  to  one  of  the  beft  fchools  in  England, 
there  to  learn  as  much  Latin  as  I  pleafe, 
and  neither  more  nor  lefs." 

"  More  Latin  ftill !"  cried  Mr.  Temple. 

"  Ay,  and  Greek  too  if  I  think  proper; 
and  you  may  make  my  compliments  to  your 
friend  the  World,"  faid  Mr.  Barnet,  "  and 
tell  him  fo.'* 

"  I  have  heard,"  Mrs.  Temple  obfervedj 
that  a  man  may  be  a  tolerable  lawyer  with- 
out much  Greek." 

"  That  rriay  be*  fifter,"  rejoined  Mr. 
Barnet ;  "  but  if  I  choofe  that  Edward 
fhould  be  taught  Greek,  it  is  not  the  world's 
chattering  that  fhall  prevent  it." 

"  Drop  the  fubjeft,  my  dear,"  faid  Mr. 
Temple,  addreffing  his  wife,  "  left  you 
{hould  provoke  your  brother  to  have  the 
poor  boy  taught  Hebrew.*' 

Mrs.  Temple  happening  to  laugh  at  her 
hufband's  remark^  Barnet's  wrath  was 
wound  a  peg  higher. 

"  And  if  I  have  a  mind  that  he  fhould 
be  taught  Hebrew,  I  would  be  glad  to  know 
Who  will  hinder  it  ?"  faid  he. 

"  Not  I,  for  one,"  cried  Mr.  Temple ; 

u  on    the    contrary,   if   you    are   refolved 

VOL.  I.  o  on 


194  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

on  it,  I  believe  I  can  recommend  a  Jew 
for  his  inftructor,  who  underftands  Hebrew 
very  well." 

"  There  is  nothing  wond-erful  in  that," 
faid  Barnet  peevifhly  j  "  fmce  Hebrew  is  the 
mother-tongue  of  the  Jews." 

"  But  this  Jew  will  teach  it  him  on  rea- 
fonable  terms,"  replied  Mr.  Temple  ;  "  for 
he  is  an  honeft  man." 

"  You  muft  allow,"  faid  Mrs.  Temple, 
addrefling  her  brother,  "  that  there  is  foine- 
thing  wonderful  in  that? 

"  What  is  moft  wonderful  of  all,"  faid 
Mr.  Temple,  "  is,  that  your  brother  fhould 
dream  of  the  boy's  being  taught  a  lan- 
guage which  will  be  fo  ufelefs  to  him, 
and  one  in  which  there  are  fo  few  books 
written." 

*'  It  does  not  become  a  man  of  your 
cloth,"  replied  Barnet,  "  to  fay  any  thing 
in  disparagement  of  Hebrew  ;  you  muft  al- 
low that  there  is,  at  lead,  one  good  book  in 
that  language ;  although  you,  like  many 
other  of  your  brethren  perhaps,  may  not 
underftand  it  in  the  original." 

"  I  beg,  my  dear  brother,"  anfwered 
Temple,  with  a  fmile,  "  that  you  will  not 


E  D  \V  A  R  D.  19  5 

be  fo  very  fevere  ;  I  only  mean  to  hint  that 
it  is  impoflible  to  pafs  through  life  without 
the  world's  cenfure." 

"  Damn  the  world  and  its  cenfure  both,'* 
cried  Barnet ;  "  Edward  fhall  have  as  com- 
plete an  education  as  any  boy  in  England, 
coft  what  it  will,  and  there  is  an  end  of  the 
matter." 

It  was  no  doubt  painful  to  fuch  a  woman 
as  Mrs.  Barnet,  to  perceive  that  even  in 
thofe  parts  of  her  hufband's  conduct  which 
did  him  moft  credit,  he  always  acted  from 
paffion,  caprice,  OF  fome  childifh  motive  ; — • 
but  fuch  was  the  character  of  the  man. 
She  was  content,  therefore,  to  adopt  fuch  a 
behaviour  as  led  him  to  benevolent  actions, 
without  regarding  his  motives. 

A  fhort  time  after  this  converfation,  it 
was  determined  that  Edward  mould  be  fent 
to  the  very  fchool  that  Mr.  Temple  had  re- 
commended ;  and  he  then  told  Mr.  Barnet 
that,  to  prove  that  he  would  not  join  with  the  - 
world  in  blaming  his  brother-in-law,  he  in- 
tended to  accompany  the  boy  to  the  fchool, 
which  he  accordingly  did;  recommending 
him  to  the  mafter,  who  was  his  friend,  as  • 
02  a  boy 


196  EDWARD. 

a  boy  of  promifmg  talents  and  an  excellent 
difpofition.  This  character  from  Mr.  Temple 
gave  an  impreffion  in  favour  of  Edward, 
whofe  fituation  became  flill  more  agreeable 
foon  after,  by  his  friend  Clifton  coming  to 
the  fame  fchool. 

The  character  which  Mr.  Temple  gave 
him  was  fully  fupported  by  Edward  at  this 
fchool :  yet  the  advantages  he  reaped,  when 
he  returned  to  Mr.  Barnet's  in  the  vacations,. 
were  of  more  value,  perhaps,  than  all  he  ac- 
quired during  the  reft  of  the  year  ;  for  Mrs. 
'  Barnet  neglected  no  opportunity  of  inflilllng 
honourable  principles  into  his  mind.  Ed- 
ward liftened  with  delight  to  herinftruction?, 
not  only  on  account  of  their  being  confo- 
nant  to  every  idea  of  virtue  which  he  could 
form,  but  likewife  on  account  of  the  love 
and  veneration  in  which  he  held  his  in- 
ftructreis. 

While  fo  many  things  contributed  to 
make  Edward's  fituation  in  Mr.  Harriet's 
family  pleafant,  one  circumftance  tended  to 
render  it  difagreeable.  Mention  has  been 
made  of  Mr.  Barnet's  daughter:  it  was  this 
girl's  misfortune  to  be  the  darling  of  her 
3  father; 


EDWARD.  197 

father ;  next  to  ftewed  carp,  there  was  no- 
thing on  earth  he  loved  fo  much  as  her. 
She  was  a  brunette  like  her  mother,  and 
had  the  fineft  black  eyes  and  mod  lively 
look  that  can  be  imagined, — of  courfe, 
nothing  could  be  more  unlike  the  vacancy 
of  Mr.  Barnet's  face,  than  the  fprightly 
looks  of  his  daughter. 

Yet  he  was  often  told,  by  thofe  who  were 
inclined  to  flatter  him,  that  ihe  was  very 
like  him,  which  he  believed,  and  believed  at 
the  fame  time,  what  he  often  told  her,  that 
flie  was  the  prettied  girl  in  the  world. 

Mr.  Barnet's  extreme  indulgence  to  his 
daughter,  and  the  compliments  he  paid  to 
her  beauty,  gave  much  vexation  to  the  mo- 
ther, who  dreaded  their  effects  on  the  tem- 
per and  difpofition  of  the  girl.  Mrs.  Barnet 
had  earneftly  tried  to  prevail  on  her  hufband 
to  abftain  from  praifmg  the  girl's  looks,  and 
from  gratifying  her  in  whatever  fhe  fhew- 
ed  any  inclination  for ; — -but  all  Mrs.  Bar- 
net's  endeavours  were  fruitlefs ;  for  in 
praifmg  and  gratifying  his  daughter,  he  gra- 
tified himfelf,  which  had  more  weight  with 
Barnet,  than  all  the  remonftrances  of  his 
o  3  wife, 


198  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

wife,  or  than  any  other  confideration.  Mrs. 
Barnet  therefore  thought  herfelf  obliged  to 
facrifice  the  pleafure  fhe  had  propofed  te 
herfelf,  of  entirely  educating  and  forming 
the  mind  of  her  daughter,  and  placed  her 
in  a  boarding  fchool  in  the  capital. — Al- 
though Barnet  did  not  quite  reliih  this  plan, 
he  did  not  long  oppofe  it ;  for,  on  reflection, 
he  faid,  that  it  flood  to  rcafon  that  mothers 
could  not  be  fuppofed  to  be  able  to  educate 
their  daughters  fo  well  as  thofe  women  who 
made  a  trade  of  it. 

The  fame  motive  which  prompted  Mrs. 
Barnet  to  fend  her  daughter  to  the  boarding 
fchool,  determined  her  in  keeping  the  girl 
there  feveral  years  :  fhe  returned  however 
to  her  father's  houfe  at  certain  periods 
every  year,  which  were  alfo  the  periods  in 
which  Edward  returned  from  fchool.  He 
always  behaved  to  her  with  the  refpect  due 
to  the  child  of  his  benefactors;  and  endea*- 
voured,  by  every  honourable  means  that 
his  young  imagination  could  fuggeft,  to  de- 
ferve  her  regard  and  acquire  her  good  will, 
But  perceiving  the  cold  manner  in  which 
{he  received  his  attentions,  and  mocked  at 


EDWARD.  199 

the  haughty  ftile  in  which  fhe  fpoke,  when 
fhe  deigned  to  fpeak  to  him  at  all,  he  fhrunk 
into  a  referve  and  diftance  of  deportment, 
very  different  from  what  he  aflumed  to 
either  of  her  parents. 

Mrs.  Barnet  obferved  fomething  of  her 
daughter's  haughty  manner,  and  the  effect 
it  had  on  him,  although  both  the  young 
Lady  and  the  boy  endeavoured  to  conceal 
them  from  her. 

Being  concerned  at  this,  on  her  daughter's 
account,  Ihe  fpoke  to  her  on  the  fubjecl:,  and 
ended  her  remonftrance  by  obferving,  that 
fhe  would  give  an  ill  impreffion  of  her 
own  difpofition,  by  behaving  in  fuch  a 
manner  to  anybody,  but  particularly  to  one 
of  fo  amiable  a  character  as  Edward. 

This  reproof  feemed  to  increafe  the  girl's 
ill  will  towards  him,  which  broke  out  in 
the  manner  that  will  appear  in  the  next 
Chapter. . 


04 


200  EDWARD, 


CHAP.     XXII. 

Difcourage  cunning  in  a  child  j    cunning  is  the  ape  of 
wifdom.  LOCKE. 

TV/TRS.  Barnet  had  received  a  prefent  of  a 
beautiful  piece  of  china,  which  fhe  va- 
lued above  its  real  worth  on  account  of  the, 
perfon  who  gave  it. 

It  was  placed  with  other  pieces  of  china 
on  a  chimney  piece  in  the  drawing  room  j 
and  Mrs.  Barnet  often  gave  directions,  par- 
ticularly to  her  daughter,  that  it  fhould  not 
be  removed  from  its  place. 

One  forenoon  during  the  Summer  vaca- 
tion, Edward  fat  in  this  room  reading,  when 
Mifs  Barnet  entered  with  Mifs  Fuller,  ano- 
ther young  Lady,  to  whom  flie  wifhed  to 
{hew  this  fine  piece  of  china. 

Unmindful  of  her  mother's  injunction, 
"  I  will  bring  it  to  the  window,"  faid  Mifs 
Barnet  to  her  companion,  "  and  then  you 
will  fee  it  better." 

"  Pray, 


EDWARD.  201 

"  Pray,  Mifs  Louifa,  be  careful  not  to  let 
it  fall,"  faid  Edward ;  "  for  you  know  it 
would  make  your  mamma  fo  uneafy." 

"  That  is  no  bufmefs  of  yours,"  faid  Mifs 
Barnet,  tartly;  and  at  the  fame  inftant  fhe 
feized  the  china  with  fuch  quicknefs  and  fo 
little  caution,  that  it  dipt  from  her  fingers 
and  was  broken  to  pieces  on  the  hearth. 

They  all  flood  for  fome  time  in  filent 
aftonifhment;  but  fhe  who  had  occafioned 
the  misfortune  was  the  firft  who  recovered 
her  prefence  of  mind. 

'c  Were  we  all  to  cry  our  eyes  out,"  faid 
Mifs  Barnet,  "  it  would  not  mend  the  vafe  ; 
but  I  have  thought  of  what  will  fave  us  from 
blame." 

She  immediately  ran  out  of  the  room, 
and  returning  a  few  minutes  after  with  a 
cat  in  her  arms ;  "  Be  gone  into  the  gar- 
den," faid  flie  to  the  young  Lady  and  Ed- 
ward ;  then  throwing  the  cat  on  the  floor, 
{he  fhut  the  door  of  the  room,  and  followed 
them  into  the  garden. — "  Now,"  cried  Mifs 
Barnet,  ready  to  burft  with  laughter,  "  my 
mother  will  think  her  favourite  cat  has 

broken 


E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

broken  the  vafe — and,  if  fhefhould  make 
any  farther  inquiry,  you  have  only  to  de- 
clare, as  I  fhall  do,"  added  fhe,  looking  at 
Edward,  "  that  you  know  nothing  at  all  of 
the  matter." 

"  I  hope,"  faid  he,  "  that  your  mother 
will  afk  no  queftions  of  me  on  the  fubject." 

"  But  in  cafe  fhe  fhould,  you  will  tell  her 
plainly,  that  you  know  nothing  about  it  ?" 

Edward  made  no  anfwer. 

"  You  will  tell  her  that  you  know  nothing 
of  the  matter  ?"  repeated  Mifs  Barnet,  witU 
a  raifed  voice. 

"  I  will  tell  her  no  fuch  thing,"  faid  Ed- 
ward calmly. 

"  Why  not?"  cried  (he. 

"  Becaufe,  I  will  not  tell  a  lie,"  anfwered 
he. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  fay  that  7  would?" 

"  I  meant  to  fay  what  I  repeat,  Mifs 
Louifa,"  replied  Edward  ;"  that  for  my  own 
part  I  will  not." 

"  Did  you  ever  fee  fuch  a  faucy  compa- 
nion ?"  faid  Mifs  Barnet  to  Mifs  Fuller,  as 
be  withdrew. 

"  O! 


EDWARD.  203 

"  O  !  yes,  very  often,  my  dear,"  replied 
the  other,  fmiling. 

"  Well,  you  may  laugh  as  you  pleafe," 
rejoined  Mifs  Barnet,  "  but  what  he  laid 
implied  that  he  thought  me  a  liar.'* 

"  What  he  thinks,  my  dear  Louifa,  is 
of  little  importance,"  replied  Mifs  Fuller; 
"  provided  we  are  ourfelves  confcious  that 
we  are  incapable  of  falfehood." 

At  this  remark,  Mifs  Barnefs  face  became 
of  the  deepeft  fcarlet. 

When  Mrs.  Barnet  returned  to  the  draw- 
ing room,  me  faw  her  favourite  vafe  lying 
in  pieces  on  the  hearth.  The  cat  rumed  out 
as  foon  as  the  door  was  opened  ;  but  as  Mrs. 
Barnet  had  left  Edward  reading  in  the 
room,  and  was  certain  that  no  cat  was  there 
when  me  left  it,  ihe  could  not  avoid  fuf- 
pecting  that  he  had  accidentally  broken  the 
vafe,  and  had  afterwards  fhut  up  the  cat  in 
the  room  to  prevent  the  fufpicion  from  fall- 
ing on  himfelf. — This  betrayed  a  degree  of 
cunning  which  me  did  not  like,  and  of  which 
me  had  never  before  feen  any  inftance  in 
him.  She  was  fenfible  that  to  fome  people 
a  trick  of  that  kind  would  appear  only  a 
1 5  proof 


204  EDWARD. 

proof  of  clevernefs  in  a  boy  of  his  age; 
but  fhe  had  hitherto  confidered  him  as  fu- 
perior  to  a  device  of  this  nature)  and  fhe 
felt,  that  if  it  were  clear  that  he  had  ftooped 
to  ufe  it,  fhe  never  would  be  able  to  efteem 
and  love  him  as  fhe  had  done.  And  fo 
painful  is  it  to  a  benevolent  mind,  to  have 
favourable  impreflions  of  any  one  removed, 
and  to  receive  unfavourable  ones  in  their 
place,  that  Mrs.  Barnet  would  much  rather 
have  loft  the  value  of  a  hundred  fuch  vafes, 
than  have  had  her  good  opinion  of  this 
poor  boy  thus  diminifhed.  She  gathered 
up  the  fragments  of  the  vafe,  and  locked 
them,  in  her  cupboard,  without  making  any 
inquiry.  At  dinner  fhe  remarked  that  Ed- 
ward was  graver  and  more  penfive  than 
ufual,.  which  increafed  her  fufpicions. 

She  faid  nothing  all  that  day,  in  the 
hopes  that  he  would  fpontaneoufly  acknow- 
ledge what  he  had  done.  — She  contrived 
opportunities  of  being  alone  with  him,  and 
behaved  in  the  moft  affectionate  manner ; 
addreffirrg  him  even  with  more  franknefs 
and  affability  than  ufual,  on  purpofe  to 
imooth  the  way  to  the  avowal  which  fhe  fo 

much 


EDWARD.  205 

much  defired ;  and  at  night  fhe  retired 
to  her  bed-chamber  chagrined  becaufe  he 
had  not  made  it,  and  vexed  at  thinking 
this  poor  friendlefs  boy  lefs  worthy  of  her 
efteem  than  fhe  had  formerly  imagined. 

Next  day  being  alone  with  him,  fhe  faid 
a  little  unexpectedly,  "  Pray,  Ned,  do  you 
know  any  thing  of  the  breaking  of  the  vafe 
which  flood  on  the  drawing  room  chim- 
ney?" 

Unwilling  to  tell  what  he  knew,  and  con- 
fufed  with  the  queftion,  he  made  no  anfwer. 

His  uneafmefs  and  confufiori  confirmed 
her  fufpicions. 

"  When  I  left  you  reading  in  the  room 
the  vafe  was  whole,  was  it  not  ?"  faid  fhe. 

"  Yes  it  was,"  anfwered  he. 

"  You  were  alone,"  refumed  fhe  ;  "  there 
was  ?iot  fo  much  as  a  cat  in  the  ro,om  with 
you  when  I  left  it,"  added  fhe. 

Greatly  diftrefied  at  this  remark,  the  boy 
feemed  more  and  more  confuted. 

"  Accidentally  breaking  a  piece  of  china," 
continued  Mrs.  Barnet,  "  is  a  trifle;  the 
means  which  feem;  to  have  been  ufed  to 
conceal  it,  I  view  in  a  different  light,  and  it 

gives 


206  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

gives  me  pain  to  think  that  thofe  I  love  are 
capable  of  artifices  which  betray  cunning 
at  the  expence  of  candour." 

Edward  wiped  the  tears  from  his  eyes, 
but  faid  nothing. 

"  I  thought  you  too  wife  and  manly  tc 
be  cunning,"  continued  Mrs.  Barnet. 
The  boy  feemed  much  diftrefTed, 
"  Perhaps,'*  refumed  Mrs.  Barnet ;  "  you1 
\vifh  to  give  ibme  explanation  of  this  mat- 
ter/* 

**  I  can  give  no  explanation,*'  faid  he,  in 
a  voice  half  iuppretled  with  anguifh ; — "  but 
—but — Oh  !  I  am  very  unhappy.'* 

"  Nay,  my  dear,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet,  moved 
by  the  diftrefs  in  which  £he  faw  the  boy  j 
"  there  is  no  need  to  be  very  unhappy ;  it 
was  natural  for  you  to  imagine  I  fhould  be 
mneafy  at  the  lofs  of  the  vafe,  and  you  could 
not  bear,  I  fuppofe,  to  be  thought  the  caufe 
of  my  uneafmefs. — I  am  fure  fuch  a  thought 
would  give  you  pain." 

u  Indeed  it  would,"  faid  he,  in  a  voice 
hardly  articulate. 

"  When  fuch  an  accident  happens  again, 
believe  me,  rr.y  dear,  your  beft  courfe  wiff 

be 


EDWARD.  207 

be  to  avow  it  honeftly,  without  racking 
your  invention  for  devices  to  conceal  it." 

Having  faid  this,  Mrs.  Barnet  left  him 
in  more  uneafmefs  of  mind  than  he  had 
ever  felt  before. 

Notwithftanding  the  palliating  terms  me 
had  made  ufe  of,  Edward  faw  that  Mrs. 
Barnet  was  much  difpleafed ;  and  it  coft 
him  a  fevere  flruggle  to  bear  the  idea  of 
her  difpleafure ;  but  when  he  reflected 
that  he  could  not  do  himfelf  juflice  with- 
out accufing  the  daughter  of  his  bene- 
fadrefs,  and  conveying  to  the  mother's 
breaft  more  vexation  than  {he  felt  in  think- 
ing him  blame-worthy,  he  determined  to 
remain  filent,  and  actually  returned  to  fchool 
•without  giving  the  leaft  hint  on  the  fub- 


208  E  D  W  A  R  II. 


CHAP.    XXIIL 

Virtue  itfelf  'fcapes  not  calumnious  ftrokes; 
The  canker  galls  the  infants  of  the  fpring, 
Too  oft  before  their  buttons  be  difclofed, 
And  in  the  morn  and  liquid  dew  of  youth 
Contagious  blafhnents  are  moil  imminent. 

SHAKE  SPEARS* 

T\ yriss  Barnet  remained  a  month  with  her 
•*•*•*•  parents  after  Edward  left  them  ;  her 
refentment  againft  him  increafed,  he  had 
made  her  look  mean  in  her  own  eyes.  She 
felt  therefore  a  difagreeable  fenfation  as 
often  as  his  name  was  mentioned.  When 
this  is  the  cafe,  few  have  the  candour 
to  confider  whether  it  originates  in  any 
fault  of  their  own,  or  of  the  perfon  at  the 
mention  of  whofe  name  the  difagreeable 
feeling  recurs — perhaps  Mifs  Barnet  wag 
incapable,  coolly  and  confiderately,  of  doing 
an  effential  injury  to  this  boy  ;  but  the 
painful  fenfation  which  fhe  felt  when  fhe 
thought  of  him,  made  her  without  defign 

fpeak 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  209 

fpeak  of  him  fometimes  in  an  injurious  ftile, 
and  at  one  time  in  the  hearing  of  her 
mother. 

Mrs.  Barnet  hinted  at  the  unfairnefs  of 
taking  advantage  of  his  abfence  to  infmuate 
any  thing  to  his  prejudice  ;  adding,  that  Ed- 
ward was  incapable  of  fpeaking  againft  peo- 
ple in  their  abfence. 

"  What  is  nearly  as  bad,  however,"  re- 
plied the  daughter ;  "  he  is  capable  of 
fpeaking  with  infolence  and  injuflice  to 
people  in  their  prefence" 

"  Edward  is  as  incapable  of  the  one  as  the 
other,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  He  told  me  the  other  day,  in  pretty 
plain  terms,  that  I  was  a  liar,"  faid  the 
daughter. 

Mifs  Barnet  guefling  by  her  mother's 
look  that  (he  did  not  believe  her,  faid, 
"  Mifs  Fuller  was  prefent  when  he  did  fo." 

Some  vifitors  being  at  the  inftant  an- 
nounced, the  dialogue  between  the  mother 
and  daughter  ended. 

Although  Mrs.  Barnet  did  not  immediately 
refume  the  fubjecl  of  this  converfation  with 

VOL.  i.  p  her 


2io  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

her  daughter,    fhe   refolved   to  inveftigate 
the  truth  of  the  accufation  ;  and  for  that 
purpofe,  after  making  a  vifit  to  a  family  in 
the  neighbourhood,  fhe  called  one  forenoon 
on  Mifs  Fuller,   who  had  returned  to  her 
father's  houfe,  and  afked  whether  fhe  had 
ever  heard   Edward  fay  any  thing   unbe- 
coming to  Louifa.  The  young  lady  declared 
fhe  never  had.     "  He  may  have  been  pro- 
voked tp  it,"  refumed  Mrs.  Barnet,  "  but 
I  have  reafon  to  think  he  behaved    with 
fome  degree  of  infolence  in  your  prefence." 
Mifs  Fuller  now  recollected  what  had  pafled 
when  the  vafe  was  broken,  and  related  the 
whole  candidly  as  it  had  pafled. 

Mrs.  Barnet's  mind  was  now  divided  be- 
tween admiration  of  Edward's  conduct  and 
uneafmefs  on  account  of  her  daughter's ; 
but,  eager  to  remove  from  the  heart  of  Ed- 
ward that  pain  which  her  miftaken  notion  of 
his  conduct  had  produced,  fhe  gave  way,  in 
the  firft  place,  to  the  moft  pleafmg  emotion 
of  the  two,  and  immediately  after  arriving  at 
her  own  houfe,  fhe  wrote  to  him  as  fol- 
lows : 

"My 


EDWARD.  211 

"  My  dear  Edward, 
"  You  have  reafon  to  be  hurt  at  the  ftyle 
in  which  I  fpoke  to  you  a  little  before  you 
left  us,  and  perhaps  it  ftill  gives  you  pain  to 
think  that  I  difapprove  of  any  part  of  your 
conduct,  even  while  you  are  confcious  that 
my  difapprobation  proceeds  from  miftake  ; 
I  haften  therefore  to  inform  you,  that  the 
miftake,  which,  from  the  moft  honourable 
and  delicate  motives,  you  left  me  in,  exifts 
no  longer.  I  am  fully  acquainted  with 
every  particular  of  the  affair  to  which  you 
muft  know  I  now  allude ;  the  whole  of  your 
behaviour,  on  that  occafion,  and  your  mo- 
tives for  not  explaining  it  to  me,  are  now 
evident,  and  render  you  dearer  to  me  than 
ever. 

"  From  the  pleafure  you  now  feel  you 
will  be  confirmed  in  the  truth  of  what  I  have 
often  told  you,  that  the  approbation  of  a 
perfon's  own  mind  is  the  nrft  reward  for 
acting  honourably ;  and  future  experience 
will  convince  you,  that  fuch  conduct,  to  ufe 
the  words  of  a  man  of  great  wit  and  ^reat 
good  fenfc, 

p  2  Itaves 


E  D  W  A  R  D, 

.  leaves  behind 

A  lading  pleafure  in  the  mind, 
Which,  by  remembrance,  will  affuage- 
Grief,  ficknefs,  poverty,  and  age; 
And  ftrongly  (hoot  a  radiant  dart 
To  fhine  through  life's  declining  part. 


That  you  may  perfevere  in  that  virtuous 
courfe  which  alone  leads  to  happinefs  here, 
and  fecures  it  hereafter,  is  the  prayer  of,  dear 
Edward,  your  aflured  friend, 

"  JANE  BARNET." 

This  letter  operated  like  a  cordial  on  the 
drooping  fpirits  of  Edward,  who  had  begun 
fcveral  letters  containing  general  afTurancea 
of  his  not  being  fo  much  to  blame  as  fhe 
might  believe  ;  but  ftill  dreading  that  they 
might  lead  to  a  difcovery  of  Mifs  Barnet's  be- 
haviour, which  he  knew  would  give  vexa- 
tion to  her  mother,  he  ended  by  throwing 
each  letter  in  the  fire. 

After  Mrs.  Barnet  had  gratified  her  na- 
tural difpofition  to  redrefs  an  injury,  and 
communicate  pleafure  by  writing  to  Ed- 
ward, fhe  remembered  that  the  painful  duty 
of  remonftrating  with  her  daughter  re- 

mained 


EDWARD.  213 

mained  unfulfilled.  Afraid,  however,  of  the 
effect  which  ftating  her  conduct  in  the 
heinous  light  which  it  appeared  to  herfelf 
might  have  on  the  young  lady's  mind,  me 
fpoke  to  her  in  the  following  terms : 

"  I  find,  my  dear,  that  you  entirely  miftook 
what  Edward  faid,  when  you  defired  him  to 
conceal  from  me  the  accident  by  which  the 
vafe  was  broken.     It  was   not  unnatural, 
however,  in  you,  to  be  provoked  with  any 
expreffion  that  could  poffibly  be  conflrued 
into  fo  foul  a  reproach  as  that  of  lying—- 
the mifapprehenfion  of  a  fentence  has  often 
led  people  of  the  beft  difpofitions  and  inten- 
tions into  error  ;  for,  on  a  very  narrow  ban's 
of  miftake,  a  vaft  ftructure  of  falfehood  may 
be  raifed  to  the  ruin  of  the  moft  meritorious 
character.     The  quicknefs  of  your  temper, 
my  dear  Louifa,  led  you  into  an  error,  in 
repeating  to  me  what  Edward  faid,  which 
might  have  made  an  impreflion  highly  in- 
jurious  to  his  character,  had  it  not  been 
prevented  by  my  obtaining  a  real  ftate  of 
what  pafled  from  your  friend  Mifs  Fuller, 
who  is  fo  partial  to  you  as  to  take  the  whole 
p  3  blame 


214  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

blame  of  breaking  the  vafe  on  herfelf,  de- 
claring that  it  proceeded  from  her  impatient 
curiofity  to  fee  it,  and  your  eagernefs  to 
gratify  her.  The  lofs  of  the  vafe,  however, 
gives  me  little  or  no  uneafmefs ;  but  had  it 
given  me  a  great  deal,  it  would  have  been 
entirely  difperfed  by  the  fatisfaction  of  find- 
ing that  Edward  has  not  behaved  in  the 
manner  that  ftruck  you,  and  that  you  are 
incapable  of  wilful  m  ifreprefentation." 

Had  Mrs.  Barnet  ftated  her  daughter's 
conduct  in  the  worft  light,  the  young  lady 
was  of  a  temper  to  have  attempted  a  jufti- 
fication  ;  and  what  we  once  are  led,  or 
provoked  to  juftify,  we  are  apt  to  repeat : 
whereas,  inftead  of  attempting  any  defence 
or  apology,  Mifs  Barnet  was  fo  much  af- 
fected with  the  delicacy  of  her  mothe'r's 
remonftrance,  that  me  ftood  fpeechlefs,  with 
her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  which  Mrs. 
Barnet  obferving,  gently  fqueezed  her  hand 
and  left  the  room.  Mifs  Barnet  was  no 
fooner  alone  than  fhe  burft  into  tears, 
and  continued  weeping  for  a  confiderable 
time. 

Her 


EDWARD.  215 

Her  heart  informed  her,  that  her  con- 
dud:  did  not  deferve  the  palliations  it  had 
received  ;  and  although  nothing  pleafed  her 
fo  much,  in  general,  as  her  mother's  praife, 
yet,  on  the  prefent  occafion,  it  rather  dif- 
trefled  her,  becaufe  fhe  was  confcious  fhe 
did  not  deferve  it. 


2i6      '        EDWARD. 


CHAP.     XXIV. 

A  fmile  eternal  on  his  lip  he  wears, 

Which  equally  the  wife  and  worchlefs  /hares. 

In  gay  fatigues,  this  moft  undaunted  chief, 

Patient  of  idlenefs  beyond  belief, 

Moft  charitably  lends  the  town  his  face, 

For  ornament  in  every  public  place  ; 

As  fare  as  cards,  he  to  th'  aflembly  comes, 

And  is  the  furniture  of  drawing-rooms. 

YOUNG. 


continued  to  purfue  his  fludies 
with  the  approbation  of  his  matters,  and 
with  equal  fuccefs  and  tranquillity,  till  his 
old  enemy  Fillagree  was  placed  at  the  lame 
fchool. 

This  youth  had  remained  at  the  former 
for  a  confiderable  time  after  Clifton  and 
Edward  had  left  it  ;  and,  by  the  abject  con- 
nivance of  the  matter,  had  domineered  over 
the  other  boys  without  control,  to  the  great 
augmentation  of  his  native  ftock  of  arro- 
gance, which,  indeed,  was  the  only  acquifi- 
tion  he  made.  He  was  now  fent  by  Lady 
Lofty  to  this  new  feminary. 

As 


EDWARD.  217 

As  Earl  Torpid,  father  to  Lord  Fillagree, 
was  ftill  in  exiftence,  it  is  incumbent  on  us  to 
account  for  the  youth  being  fo  much  at  the 
difpofal  of  his  aunt,  at  a  period  of  his  life 
when  the  character  is  fuppofed  to  receive  its 
deepeft  and  mod  permanent  impreffions  ; 
and  in  performing  this  talk,  it  will  be  ne- 
ceflary  to  give  a  few  anecdotes  refpefting 
other  branches  of  this  illuftrious  family. 

Lord  Torpid  was  thought  as  polite  a 
nobleman  as  any  about  court  j  there  was  a 
bowing,  fmiling  attentivenefs  in  his  manner, 
which  thofe,  who  were  ignorant  that  it  was 
the  effecT:  pf  mere  habit,  miftcok  for  an  in- 
dication of  good  will.  Lord  Torpid  was 
incapable  of  doing  a  rude  thing  ;  but  a  corn 
on  his  own  toe  gave  him  more  concern  than 
the  greateft  misfortune  that  could  befal  any 
of  his  acquaintance,  including  thofe  he 
called  his  friends.  He  patted  his  time  at 
court,  at  the  opera,  at  concerts,  in  loung- 
ing, and  at  his  toilet.  He  was  vifited  twice  a 
week  by  a  dentift,  who  had  the  fuperintend- 
ence  of  his  teeth  ;  an  operator  for  the  nails 
regularly  infpedled  thofe  of  his  Lordfhip's 
fingers  and  toes  as  often.  It  was  obferved, 

that 


2i8  EDWARD. 

that  on  the  remaining  three  days  of  the 
week  the  noble  Lord  was  much  at  a  lofs 
what  to  do  with  himfelf,  when  the  hour 
arrived  which  thofe  different  artifts  were  in 
life  to  occupy. 

It  was  obferved  above,  that  he  was  in  ex-* 
iftence  at  the  period  of  which  we  have  been 
treating.     This,  indeed,  is  the  utmoft  that 
could  be  faid  at  any  period  of  his  life,  and 
more  than  a  cautious  perfon  would  have  ven- 
tured to  affirm  at  fome  particular  times,  when 
he  feemed  to  have  as  little  feeling  as  a  corpfe. 
This  was  peculiarly  obfervable  at  the  play-* 
houfe,  for,  although  he  never  went  till  the  play 
was  ended  from  tafte,  he  was  fometimes  ob^ 
liged  to  attend  before  it  began  from  duty ; 
and  there  he  contemplated  Mrs.  Siddons  in 
Belvidera  and  Lady  Randolph  with  the  fame 
compofure  that  he  heard  the  lullaby  of  Lord 
•  in  the  Koufe  of  Peers.    His  friends 

endeavoured  to  explain  this,  by  faying  that 
his  Lordfhip,  like  many  other  refpe&able 
people,  had  no  relifh  for  tragedy.  And 
when  it  afterwards  appeared  that  he  was 
equally  unmoved  with  the  genuine  nature 
and  exquifite  pleafantry  of  Mrs.  Jordan, 

they 


EDWARD.  219 

they  were  forced  to  add,  that  his  Lordfliip 
alfo  refembled  thofe  refpe&able  people  who 
have  no  relifh  for  comedy. 

At  an  early  period  of  his  life  he  was 
greatly  influenced  by  what  was  called  Ton  ; 
fo  much  indeed  as  in  the  important  ftep  of 
marriage,  to  overpower  his  love  of  money, 
which  afterwards  became  his  ftrongeft  paf- 
fion.  As  every  Englishman,  with  the  title  of 
Lord,  communicates  that  of  Lady  to  his 
wife,  he  of  courfe  has  it  in  his  power  to 
acquire  fortune  by  marriage  if  he  pleafes. 
The  greater  number  of  Englifh  Lords,  in- 
cluding the  Scotch  and  Irim,  certainly  avail 
themfelves  of  this  advantage.  Lord  Tor- 
pid, however,  did  not ;  which  remains  to  be 
accounted  for. 

A  handfome  young  lady,  the  daughter  of 
a  gentleman  of  moderate  fortune  and  a  nu- 
merous family,  was  prefented  at  court.  As 
fhe  was  genteelly  connected,  me  was  foon  in- 
troduced into  all  the  famionable  circles ;  her 
gaiety  and  good  humour  were  fuperior  to 
her  beauty;  her  manners  were  peculiarly 
pleafmg,  and  fhe  was  more  admired  by  the 
men,  and  imitated  by  the  women,  than  any 

woman 


E  D  W  A  R  D. 

woman  in  England.  Lord  Torpid,  who 
was  acquainted  with  the  family,  had  often 
feen  her  at  her  father's  houfe,  before  Ihe 
appeared  at  court,  without  taking  any  parti- 
cular notice  of  her  ;  indeed  his  Lordfhip 
never  admired  any  thing  till  it  became  the 
admiration  of  others.  The  torrent  of  praife 
which  flowed  on  this  young  lady  directed 
his  Lordfhip's  peculiar  attention  to  her.  One 
day,  at  the  drawing-room,  he  heard  a  very 
great  Perfonage  declare,  that  fhe  was  one  of 
the  prettieft  girls  in  England.  He  faw  the 
furrounding  circle,  by  their  bows,  nods, 
and  fmiles,  announce  that  they  were  all  of 
the  fame  opinion.  That  very  evening, 
Lord  Torpid  fell  afleep  in  the  conviction 
that  he  was  defperately  in  love  with  her ; 
and  the  next  day  he  informed  her  father  of 
his  paflion,  and  made  the  daughter  an  offer 
of  his  hand. 

Of  all  this  young  lady's  male  acquaint- 
ance Lord  Torpid  was  precilely  the  perfon 
who  interefted  her  the  leaft  ;  but  (he  was  of 
an  eafy  and  complying  temper.  All  her  re- 
lations allured  her,  that  Lord  Torpid's  pro- 
pofal  was  the  moil  fortunate  thing  that  could 

have 


EDWARD.  22J 

have  happened  to  her  family,  and  that  fhe 
herfelf  would  be  perfectly  happy,  becaufe 
fhe  would  have  all  that  the  world  can  afford. 
Her  father  left  her  entirely  to  follow  her 
own  inclination  ;  and  as  fhe  had  a  great  in- 
clination to  be  a  Countefs,  fhe  followed  the 
advice   of  her  relations,  and  accepted   his 
Lordfhip's    offer.     A   little   after  his  mar- 
riage, Lord  Torpid  began  to  fufpect  that  he 
had  laboured  under  a  miftake  in  thinking 
himfelf  in  love,  and  he  was  fully  convinced, 
that  however  deeply  he  had  been  in  it,  he 
was  now   completely  out    of  it ;    and   his 
lady   was  equally  convinced,  that  her   re- 
lations had  been  miftaken  in  thinking  that 
this    marriage    would    make    her    happy ; 
and  however  fond  fhe  herfelf  had  been  of 
the  title  of  Countefs,  fhe  now  thought  fhe 
had  bought  it  at  a  price  far  above  its  value. 
When  fhe   married,   her  hufband  was  an 
objecl:  of  indifference  to  her.      This   ftate, 
which  lafted  about  a    month,  might  have 
been  called  the  honey-moon,  when  com- 
pared with  what  followed.  The  young  lady 
had   pafled  her  life,   before  fhe  became  a 

Countef?, 


±22  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

Countefs,  in  gaiety  and  good  humour,  moftly 
in  the  -country,  at  the  houfe  of  her  father, 
or  at  the  houfes  of  his  friends,  fond  of  her 
companions,  and  greatly  beloved   by  them 
all,  on  account  of  her  eafy,  gay,  and  accom- 
modating difpofition.  The  infipid  folemnity 
of  her  hufband  damped  the  natural  chearful- 
nefs  of  her  heart.  The  languid  monotony  of 
his  converfation  ;  the  repetition  of  the  fame 
frigid  phrafes  benumbed  her  defire  of  pleaf- 
ing,  and  her  power  of  attention.     Her  vi- 
vacity forfook  her  ;  fhe  fell  into  low  fpirits; 
they  increafed  towards  the  end  of  her  preg- 
nancy, and  fhe  died  eight  days  after  fhe  had 
been  delivered  of  Lord  Fillagree.  Although 
Lord  Torpid  was  certainly  not  a  paflionate 
lover  of  women,  he  loved  children  Hill  lefs ; 
he  often  faid,  that  all  children  were  bores, 
and  that  a  man's  own  children  were  greater 
bores  than  any  other.    Lord  Torpid,  befides 
one  brother  confiderably  younger  than  him- 
felf,  had  two  fillers.     One  of  the  latter  had 
tnade  an  imprudent  marriage  in  point  of 
circumftances ;  and  his  Lordfhip,  who  had 
taken  little  notice  of  her  before  her  marriage, 
took  none  after  it.  He  feemed  as  little  inte- 

rcftcd 


EDWARD.  223 

retted  about  his  other  fitter,  until  he  under- 
ftood  that  {he  was  courted  by  Lord  Lofty, 
a  peer  of  great  fortune,  and  feventy  years 
of  age.  Lord  Torpid  then  waited  on  her,  and 
perceiving  that  fhe  was  rather  averfe  to  the 
match,  he  obferved,  that  it  was  natural  for 
her  to  feel  repugnant  on  fuch  an  occafion  ; 
but  that  fhe  ought  to  confider  that  what  was 
difagreeable  in  the  bufmefs  would  be  fhort- 
lived,  and  what  was  advantageous  would  be 
permanent ;  for  he  was  convinced  Lord 
Lofty  could  not  live  above  one  year.  • 

This  overcame  his  fitter's  repugnancy ; 
Ihe  gave  her  hand  to  Lord  Lofry;  he  de- 
clared himfelf  the  happieft  of  men,  and 
furvived  his  happinefs  three  months  and 
one  night.  His  fortune  and  title  defcend- 
ed  to  a  fon  by  a  former  marriage.  Lady 
Lofty  was  left  an  ample  jointure,  and  a 
confiderable  fum  in  ready  money.  As  her 
hufband's  relations  had  little  or  no  connec- 
tion with  her  after  his  death,  me  was  in- 
clined to  renew  her  intimacy  with  her  bro- 
ther, which  had  been  interrupted  for  fomc 
time.  Meeting  him  one  evening  at  a  con- 
cert, {he  enquired  after  his  fon ;  my  Lord 
4  informed 


224  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

informed  her,  that  he  had  not  feen  him  fof 
a  week  paft,  becaufe  the  child  had  been  ill  of 
a  fever,  which  ftill  continued,  but  he  under- 
•  ftood  that  the  phyfician  thought  him  better  ; 
he  therefore  took  it  for  granted  that  he 
would  recover. 

Lady  Lofty  was  proceeding  to  make  far- 
ther enquiries  concerning  the  child,  but  his 
Lordfhip  begged  (he  would  fufpend  her  cu- 
riofity  till  another  opportunity,  as  the  mufi- 
cians  were  juft  about  to  begin. 

Her  ladyfhip  called  the  following  day  to 
fee  her  nephew.  She  found  him  not  entire- 
ly out  of  danger.  She  earneftly  recom- 
mended a  tea-fpoonful  of  the  fyrup  of 
•violets  to  be  given  to  the  child  every  four 
hours,  fhakingthe  phial,  which  me  faid  had 
faved  her  own  life.  The  phyfician  made 
DO  objection  to  this  prefcription.  The  child 
was  fomewhat  better  the  next  dar,  and  gra- 
dually recovered.  The  phyfician  did  not 
difpute  the  merit  of  this  cure  with  her 
Ladyfhip,  and  from  that  time  fhe  feemed 
every  day  fonder  of  her  nephew.  Some 
imagined  that  her  partiality  proceeded 
wholly  from  the  pieafing  reflection  that  fhe 
i ;  had 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  225 

had  faved  his  life  ;  others  imagined  that  it 
was  partly  owing  to  his  hair  being  of  a 
fiery  red,  which  was  alfo  the  colony  of  her 
Ladyfhip's  ;  fhe  herfelf  indeed  called  it  au- 
burn ;  and  Ihe  turned  off  a  favourite  maid, 
whom  fhe  overheard  faying,  that  the  hair 
of  both  her  lady  and  the  child  was  juft  as. 
auburn  as  a  carrot.  But  whatever  this  par- 
tiality of  Lady  Lofty  proceeded  from,  it  was 
fo  great  that  fhe  propofed  to  take  the  boy 
home  to  her  own  houfe,  and  to  be  at  the 
entire  expence  of  his  education — a  propofal 
that  was  joyfully  agreed  to  by  Lord  Torpid. 

One  of  Lady  Lofty 's  favourite  topics  of 
converfation,  after  fhe  took  young  Fillagree 
under  her  peculiar  care,  was  the  refemblance 
(lie  found  between  the  chara&er  and  difpo- 
fition  of  the  young  Lord,  and  what  was 
recorded  of  fome  of  the  moft  celebrated  of 
his  anceftors  ;  for  her  Ladyfhip  was  deeply 
read  in  the  hiftory  of  Jier  own  family,  and 
particularly  well  acquainted  with  the  mar- 
riages of  all  the  different  branches,  wjiich 
indeed  was  the  moft  memorable  of  their 
exploits  for  the  laft  century. 

VO;L.  i,  Q,  Although 


226  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

Although  young  Filiagree  had  not  all  the 
penetration  that  his  aunt  imagined,  he  had 
enough  to  difcover  the  power  he  had  over 
her  affections,  which  he  exerted  to  pro- 
cure whatever  he  took  a  fancy  for.  She, 
on  her  part,  took  pleafure  in  gratifying  his 
defires  ;  but  they  became  fo  unreafonable, 
that  {he  fometimes  hefitated.  Whenever 
this  was  the  cafe,  the  young  Lord  fell  into 
fuch  violent  fits  of  crying  and  fobbing,  as 
terrified  her  into  compliance,  left  he  fhould 
fall  into  convulfions,  orburft  a- blood  veflel. 
On  thefe  occafions  Lady  Lofty  informed 
her  confidential  friends,  that  in  this  her 
nephew  followed  the  example  of  his  grand- 
father, who,  fhe  underftood,  had  been 
fubjecl:  to  crying  and  fobbing  all  his  life- 
time, and  yet  had  made  a  diftinguifhed 
figure,  'as  one  of  the  Lords  of  the  Bed- 
chamber, in  the  reign  of  George  the  Firft. 

Young  Lord  Filiagree  was  alfoapt  to  take 
fancy  for  every  tame  animal,  bird,  or  beaft, 
that  he  threw  his  eyes  on,  and  oblige  his 
aunt  to  purchafe  them,  much  contrary  to 
her  own  inclination  ;  fo  that  her  houfe  in 
the  country  was  made  a  kind  of  menagerie. 

Her 


EDWARD.  227 

Her  only  confolation  was,  that  in  this  he 
united  the  taftes  of  his  great-uncle  the  Go- 
nernor,  who  was  fo  fond  of  dogs,  that  he 
always  flept  with  two  or  three  in  the  room 
with  him  ;  and  of  her  own  grandmother, 
who  bad  the  fame  predilection  for  cats. 

When  crying  and  fobbing  had  been  fo 
often  ufed,  that  they  began  to  fail  in  their 
effects,  the  bey  tried  other  ways  and  means 
of  extorting  what  he  wifhed  for :  having 
feen  a  repeating  watch  of  peculiar  con- 
ftruclion  and  high  price  in  the  pofTefTion  of 
a  gentleman  who  dined  one  day  with  his 
aunt,  he  extorted  one  of  the  fame  kind 
from  her,  by  threatening  to  go  out  in  a 
frofty  morning  without  a  great  coat.  He 
obliged  her  to  purchafe  a  horfe  for  him  at 
an  extravagant  price,  as  the  only  condition 
on  which  he  would  abftain  from  going  a 
fifhing  in  rainy  weather.  The  capricious 
tyranny  of  the  boy's  temper  augmented,  as 
is  ufuai,  by  being  indulged  ;  and  while  he 
refufed  to  make  the  leaft  facrifice  of  his 
own  taftes  or  humour  on  any  confideration, 
he  feemed  to  expect  that  all  around  him 
fhould  accommodate  to  his.  A  few  days 
Q_  2  befor« 


228  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

before  Fillagree  went  to  the  new  fchool, 
his  father,  who  had  not  feen  him  above  two 
or  three  times  fmce  Lady  Lofty  had  taken 
him  under  her  management,  happened  to 
call  at  her  houfe  in  the  country  ;  he  had  a 
gentleman  who  was  related  to  the  family 
in  the  carriage  with  him  ;  they  ftaid  to  dine 
with  her  Ladyfhip,  and  were  rather  inclined 
to  remain  till  next  day;  but  feveral  pretty 
ftrong  inftances  of  the  difpofition  above 
mentioned  were  exhibited  by  young  Fillagree 
during  dinner.  In  Lord  Torpid  they  occa- 
fioned  no  emotion  ;  but  the  gentleman 
feemed  fomewhat  furpiifed  at  the  boy's 
petulance.  Lady  Lofty,  remarking  this,  faid, 
"  I  have  always  made  it  a  rule  not  to  check 
any  thing  that  indicated  fpirit  in  my  ne- 
phew ;  our's  has  always  been  diftinguifhed 
as  a  high-minded  family,  and  your  fon,  my 
Lord,  at  different  times,  exhibits  flrokes  of 
character,  which  are  fometimes  miftaken 
for  caprices,  but  are  in  reality  indications  of 
his  pofleffing  the  diflinguifhing  virtues  of 
many  of  hrs  anceftors.  To  go  no  farther 
back  than  cur  great  great  grandfather, 


The 


EDWARD.  229 

The  Earl,  who  had  before  begun  to  wifh 
to  be  gone,  and  now  dreaded  that  he  would 
be  entangled  in  the  thread  of  the  large  clew 
of  family  anecdote,  which  he  faw  his  fifter 
ready  to  unwind,  fuppreffing  a  yawn,  faid, 
"  I  vow  to  God,  my  dear  fifter,  I  am  al- 
ready convinced  of  all  you  were  going  to 


"  You  may  be  convinced,  brother,"  faid 
Lady  Lofty,  "  but  I  queftion  whether  this 
gentleman  is." 

"  Upon  my  honour,"  faid  the  gentleman, 
"  I  am  every  bit  as  much  convinced  as  his 
Lordfhip." 

"  If  you  are  both  convinced,"  replied 
Lady  Lofty,  greatly  difappointed,  "no  more 
need  be  faid." 

"  Not  a  word  more,  my  dear  fifter,"  re- 
joined Lord  Torpid,  ringing  the  bell  ;  after 
which  he  ordered  his  carriage,  and  fet  out 
with  his  companion  for  London. 

When  they  had  proceeded  a  little  way, 
the  gentleman  hinted  the  efFed  which  her 
Ladyfhip's  indulgence  might  have  on  the 
character  of  Lord  Fillagree. 

Q^  3  "I  have 


230  ED  \V  A  R  D. 

"  I  have  little  doubt,"  faid  Lord  Torpid, 
"  of  her  making  him  one  of  the  m oft  ca- 
pricious whelpb  in  England." 

*'  How  then  can  you  permit  him  to  re- 
main with  her  another  hour?" 

"  For  this  good  reafon,"  replied  his  Lord- 
ihip  ;  "  that  it  faves  me  a  great  deal  of  trou- 
ble and  a  good  deal  of  expence ;  and  me, 
on  the  contrary,  is  fond  of  working  on  the 
rough  materials  of  which  Fillagree's  cha- 
racter is  compofed. 

"  And  fo,"  rejoined  the  gentleman, 
"  your  Lordfhip  has  configned  your  foQ 
into  her  hands, 

• to  develope,  if  fhe  can, 

And  hew  the  block  off,  and  get  out  the  man," 

"  Exa&ly  fo,"  faid  his  Lordmip  yawn- 
in,  and  then  falling  afleep. 


EDWARD.  231 


CHAP.     XXV. 

Upbraid,  ye  ravening  tribes,  our  wanton  rage> 
For  hunger  kindles  you  and  lawlefs  want ; 
But  lavilh  fed,  in  nature's  bounty  roll'd, 
To  joy  in  anguifh,  and  delight  in  blood, 
Is  what  your  horrid  bofom  never  knew, 

THOMSbN. 

HAD  Lord  Filtagree's  ill  habits  been  lefs 
Confirmed,  or  had  he  remained  Jonger 
than  he  did  at  the  fchool  where  he  was  now 
placed,  he  might  have  reaped  confiderable 
benefit  from  being  among  a  fet  of  boys  who 
would  not  bear  his  arrogance,  and  under 
matters  who  gave  it  no  protection. 

The  petulance  of  his  malice  was  fre- 
quently pointed  againft  Edward  ;  but  moft 
of  his  attempts  to  mortify  him  ended  in 
the  mortification  of  the  aggreflbr.  On 
one  occafion,  when  a  number  of  the  boys 
were  playing  at  cricket  in  a  field  near  the 
fchool,  and  in  the  prefence  of  one  of  the 
umers,  a  perfon,  who  was  looking  on,  being 
ftruck  with  the  fymmetry,  vigour,  arid  ad- 

drefs 


EDWARD. 

drefs  of  Edward,  afked  a  boy,  who  had 
come  to  fchcol  only  the  preceding  day, 
\vho  Edward  was  ? 

The  boy  anfwefed,  "He  did  not  know." 

Lord  Fillagree,  overhearing  the  quef- 
tion  and  anfwer,  burft  into  laughter,  and 
faid,  "  You  have  afked  a  queflion,  Sir,  very 
difficult  to  be  anfwered  j  nobody  knows 
who  the  devil  he  is.1* 

Edward  heard  the  laugh,  and  fufpeding, 
by  the  looks  of  the  byftanders  being  all 
directed  to  him,  that  Fillagree  had  faid 
fomething  infulting,  he  walked  coolly  up 
to  him,  "  May  I  requeft  of  your  Lord- 
{hip  to  repeat  what  you  have  juft  faid  ?" 

u  All  I  have  faid,"  replied  Fillagree  in 
a  fcoffing  manner,  "  is,  that  nobody  knows 
v;hat  you  are ;  you  have  the  misfortune, 
Sir,  not  to  be  known." 

"  And  all  I  fay  in  return,"  replied  Ed- 
ward, "  is,  that  every  body  knows  what  you 
are  ;  you  have  the  misfortune,  my  Lord,  to 
be  known." 

The  laugh  was  now  turned  againft  Filla- 
gree ;  but  Edward  returned  to  cricket  with- 
out joining  in  it. 

This 


EDWARD.  233 

This  tended  to  augment  Lord  Fillagree's 
hatred  againft  Edward,  which  a  frefh  inci- 
dent exalted  to  the  higheft  point.  The 
young  Lord  was  fond  of  a  diverfion,  which, 
to  the  difgrace  of  human  nature,  was  for- 
merly practifed,  at  a  particular  feafon  of  the 
year,  in  the  ftreets  of  London  and  in  many 
villages  of  Great  Britain ;  it  confifted  of 
tying  a  cock  to  a  ftake,  and  throwing  flicks 
at  the  poor  animal  till  he  was  killed  or  un- 
able to  (land. 

This  horrid  diverfion  was  revived, 
through  his  Lordfhip's  patronage,  by  a  fel- 
low who  lived  near  the  fchool.  The  young 
Lord  himfelf,  by  dint  of  practice,  had  ac- 
quired fuch  fuperior  dexterity,  that  while 
other  boys  paid  but  a  fmall  pittance  for  a 
throw,  the  man  declared  he  would  not  af- 
ford one  to  his  Lordfhip  much  under  the 
full  price  of  the  cock.  This  diftindion 
•was  fo  flattering  to  the  groveling  ambition 
of  the  young  Lord,  that  he  confidered  it  as 
an  ample  compenfation  for  the  wretched 
figure  he  made  as  a  fcholar.  Although 
nobody  liked  better  to  ileep  in  a  found  fkin, 
yet  nothing  delighted  him  fo  much  as  be- 
9  holding 


234-  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

holding  others,  whether  men  or  beafts, 
bruifing  and  mangling  each  other  ;  indeed, 
no  kind  of  amufement  Teemed  to  intereft 
him,  unlefs  ibme  circum  fiances  of  cruelty 
belonged  to  it.  When  he  walked  in  the 
fields,  his  great  pleafute  confided  in  throw- 
ing ftones  at  all  the  birds,  or  other  unrefift- 
ing  animals,  that  he  could  reach.  Saunter- 
ing alone,  immediately  behind  the  fchooi, 
one  morning,  he  faw  a  tame  pigeon,  a"  fa- 
vourite of  the  matter's,  feeding  a  few  yards 
from  him  ;  after  attentively  looking  around, 
and  believing  that  nobody  faw  him,  he 
threw  a  {tone,  and  killed  the  pigeon  on  the 
fpot. 

Whatever  pleafure  could  be  derived  from 
the  coniciouinefs  of  fuch  an  exploit,  his 
Lordmip,  no  doubt,  enjoyed  it ;  but  he 
could  have  none  from  the  applaufe  of 
others.  The  bird  being  uncommonly  beau- 
tiful and  familiar  with  all  the  boys,  was  not 
only  the  mailer's  favourite,  but,  what  feldom 
happens  to  favourites,  was  generally  be- 
loved. The  young  Lord  therefore  durft 
not  truft  his  greateft  intimate  with  the- 
knowledge  of  this  a£t,  but  retired  with  ail 
j  i  fpeed 


EDWARD.  235 

fpeed  to  a  diftance,  that  he  might   not  be 
fufpeaed. 

Clifton,  Edward,  and  another  boy,  how- 
ever, had,  from  a  back  window  of  the 
ichool,  *een  the  whole  tranfaclion. 

"  Let  us  go  tliiectly,"  faid  the  boy,  "  and 
acquaint  the  mafter." 

"  /{hall  nor,"  faid  Edward,  "  and  I  hope 
neither  of  you  will." 

"  To  my  knoxvledge,"  faid  the  other, 
u  he  hates  you,  and  would  do  you  every 
mifchief  in  his  power." 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  Edward  ;  "  and  if 
he  mould  continue  to  hate  me,  I  am  deter- 
mined that  it  (hall  be  without  caufe." 

"  I  don't  like  to  be  a  tale-bearer  more 
than  you,"  faid  the  boy  ;  Cl  but  it  is  a  pity 
that  he  mould  efcape  unpuniflied  for  fuch 
an  a&ion." 

"  He  fhall  not  efcape,"  cried  Clifton. 
Edward  earneftly  begged  that  they  would 
not  mention  what  they  had  fee  a  ;  repre- 
fenting,  that  although  the  deed  deferved 
punifhment,  it  was  beneath  them  to  appear 
as  informers  ;  that  as  they  were  known  to 
be  on  bad  terms  with  his  Lordihip,  it  would 

appear 


236  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

appear  as  if  they  were  actuated  by  re- 
venge. 

UI  own  that  I  am  actuated  by  revenge," 
cried  Clifton ;  "  I  will  avenge  the  poor 
pigeon's  death  ;  for  although  I  fcorn  to  in- 
form, I  will  pick  a  quarrel  with  him,  and 
fight  him." 

"  You  had  not  beft  pick  a  quarrel  with 
him  on  this  fcore,"  laid  Edward  ;  "  fmce 
that  would  certainly  lead  to  the  mafter's 
knowledge  of  the  whole  affair,  which  would 
be  doing  in  a  fecret  and  indirect  manner 
what  you  fcorn  to  do  openly." 

"  Well,  perhaps  you  are  right,"  faid 
Clifton ;  "  I  fhall  therefore  fay  nothing 
about  this  bufmefs,  either  to  the  mafter  or 
himfelf." 

This  was  agreed  to  ;  but  an  incident  of  a 
fingular  nature  brought  the  whole  to  light  a 
fhort  time  after. 

Lord  Fillagree  had  found  it  difficult  to 
introduce  the  amufement  of  throwing  at 
cocks  among  the  boys  ;  many  of  them, 
however,  were  fond  of  cock-fighting  •,  and 
although  interdicted  by  the  mafter,  fome 
cf  them  fecretly  kept  cocks  for  that  purpofe. 

Lord 


EDWARD.  237 

Lord  Fillagree  was  particularly  fond  of 
this  amufement,  and  was  prefent,  as  often 
as  he  poffibly  couid,  at  all  the  cock  matches 
that  were  fought  in  the  neighbourhood. 
The  moft  eminent  cock-fighter  in  thefe 
parts  was  a  butcher.  This  man  had  one  very 
line  cock,  which  had  won  feveral  battles, 
and  gained  him  a  good  deal  of  money  ; 
but  one  day,  being  tempted  by  what  he 
thought  an  advantageous  bet,  when  the  bird 
was  almoft  exhaufted  with  repeated  victo- 
ries, this  wretch,  with  the  unfeeling  cold- 
nefs  of  a  covetous  heart,, matched  him  with 
a  frefh  cock.  The  generous  animal  began 
this  lafl  combat  with  unabated  fpirit ;  but  it 
loon  appeared,  from  his  feeble  attacks  and 
tottering  fteps,  that  although  his  courage 
was  intire,  his  ftrength  was  wafted ;  his  op-  ' 
ponent  ftruck  him  a  blow  which  was 
deemed  mortal  ;  he  lay  without  motion 
on  the  ground,  and  the  victory  was  declared 
in  favour  of  the  frefh  cock. 

The  wounded  veteran,  however,  did  not 
expire  on  the  fpot,  as  was  expected  ;  but 
after  fome  time  fhevved  figns  of  recovery. 
Neverthelefs,  the  lofs  of  his  money  threw 

the 


2^S  EDWARD. 

the  man,  if  fuch  a  brute  may  be  called  a 
man,  into  fo  violent  a  rage>  that,  unmind- 
ful of  the  paft  merit,  and  unmoved  at  the 
mangled  condition  of  the  panting  animal, 
"  Damn  him,"  cried  the  wretch,  "he  will 
never  gain  me  another  milling  by  fighting  ; 
but  he  is  ftiil  worth  throwing  at,  and  ib, 
my  Lord,"  continued  he,  addrefTmg  Lord 
Fillagree,  t:  for  half  a  crown,  you  may  have 
a  throw  at  him  at  the  ufual  diftance." 

The  young  Lord  accepted  the  offer ;  and 
the  helplefs  animal  would  have  fallen  a  fa- 
crifice  to  the  rafe  and  wanton  cruelty  of 
two  creatures,  in  many  refpecls  his  infe- 
riors, had  not  Edward  accidentally  pafTed 
that  way.  After  being  informed  of  the 
circum (lances,  he  pulled  out  feven  or  eight 
fhillings,  all  the  money  he  had  in  his  pocket, 
and  offered  them  to  the  butcher  for  the 
cock,  that  he  might  fave  fo  fine  an  animal 
from  a  fate  fo  cruel  and  unmerited. 

"  No,  curfe  him,"  cried  the  butcher,  "  he 
has  loft  me  a  damnation,  fum  of  money; 
and  I  mail  at  leaft  have  the  pleafure  of  fee- 
ing his  brains  beat  out." 

Edward 


EDWARD.  239 

Edward  threw  down  the  money,  fnatched 
up  the  cock,  and  declared  he  would  not 
fuffer  him  to  be  thrown  at. 

Fillagree  faid,  "  the  cock  was  the  man's 
property  ;  that  he  had  a  right  to  do  with 
him  what  he  pleafed." 

A  boy,  of  the  name~of  \Vormly,  an  ob- 
fequious  companion  of  the  young  Lord, 
fupporfed  his  opinion,  which  encouraged 
Fillagree  to  lay  hold  of  Edward,  and  en- 
»deavour  to  take  the  cock  from  him  by  vio- 
lence. After  being  requefted  in  vain  to  de- 
fift,  he  was  checked  by  a  blow  from  Ed- 
ward, which  brought  blood  from  the  young 
Lord's  nofe. 

The  butcher,  on  making  the  fame  at- 
tempt, met  with  the  fame  kind  of  rebuke 
from  Clifton  ;  who,  with  another  boy,  had 
juft  come  up.  The  butcher  returned  Clif- 
ton's blow  with  fuch  a  force  as  brought  that 
youth  to  the  graund,  where  he  received  a 
fecond  from  Fillagree.  The  butcher, 
Wormly,  and  Fillagree,  were  now  fiercely 
attacked  by  Edward  and  the  other  boy ; 
and  on  Clifton's  recovering  and  joining 

them, 


EDWARD. 

them,  Fillagree  took  to  flight,  Wormly  fol- 
lowed him  ;  and  the  butcher  bellowed  for 
mercy. 

"  You  ought  to  be  afhamed  to  pronounce 
the  word,  villain,"  iaid  Edward  ;  "  but 
what  you  would  not  {hew  to  this  poor  bird, 
which  merited  fo  much,  we  will  fhew  to 
you,  though  you  deferve  none."  So  fay- 
ing, he  begged  his  friends  to  fpare  the  fel- 
low ;  and  defiring  him  again  to  take  up 
the  money  he  had  thrown  down,  as  the 
price  of  the  cock,  he  and  his  companions 
walked  away  j  Edward  carrying  the  cock 
with  him,  which  indeed  he  had  never 
quitted,  having  fought  all  the  time  wi,th  his 
right  hand  only. 


EDWARD.  241 


CHAP.     XXVI. 

They  that  on  glorious  anceftors  enlarge 
Produce  their  debt,  inftead  of  their  difcharge. 

YOUNG. 


following  day  the  butcher  had  the 
impudence  to  make  a  formal  com- 
plaint to  the  head  mafter  of  the  fchool,  that 
Edward  had  firft  robbed  him  of  his  cock, 
and  then,  in  conjunction  with  Clifton  and 
another  boy,  had  beaten  him  unmercifully 
—  adducing  Fillagree  and  Wormly  as  wit- 
nefles  ;  who  not  only  fupported  the  butch- 
er's accufation  in  every  point,  but  added 
frefh  matter  of  charge  on  their  own  ac- 
count ;  but  in  the  courfe  of  the  examina- 
tion the  true  ftate  of  the  cafe  was  made  ma- 
nifeft  ;  the  boy,  who  with  Clifton  and  Ed- 
ward had  been  witnefs  to  the  killing  of  the 
pigeon,  felt  fo  much  indignation  at  Filla- 
gree's  accufation  of  Edward,  who  had  acted 
fo  different  a  part  refpecting  him,  that  he 
informed  the  mafter  of  that  incident  alfo. 
VOL.  I.  R  "  Why 


242  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"  Why  did  you  not  inform  me  of  this 
immediately  after  it  happened?"  faid  the 
matter. 

"  So  I  would,"  replied  the  boy,  "  had 
I  not  be  en  prevented  by  Edward  himfelf, 
who  fcorned  to  appear  as  an  evidence  againft 
one  whom  he  knew  to  be  his  enemy."  He 
then  told  the  mafter  all  that  patted  between 
Clifton,  Edward,  and  himfelf,  at  the  time. 
Lord  Fillagree  was  fo  confounded  at  this 
teftimony,  with  the  applaufe  it  procured 
to  Edward,  and  the  difgrace  it  threw  on 
himfelf,  that  he  was  unable  to  offer  a  word 
in  his  own  defence,  and  feemed  over- 
whelmed with  confcious  guilt. 

The  mafter  then  turning  to  the  butcher, 
laid,  "  If  there  is  no  law  to  punifh  fuch  un- 
provoked and  deteftable  wickednefs  as  you 
have  manifefted,  it  is  owing  to  its  not  having 
entered  into  the  mind  of  the  legiilature  that 
ever  there  could  exift  a  wretch  capable  of  it. 
Your  horrid  conduct  has  proved  what  could 
not  before  be  imagined,  and  you  muft 
henceforth  be  held  in  abhorrence  by  every 
perfon  endowed  with  a  fmgle  fpark  of  hu- 
manity. As  for  the  young  man  of  whom 

you 


EDWARD.  243 

you  have  had  the  effrontery  to  complain, 
all  the  world  muft  approve  of  his  conduct, 
as  much  as  they  muft  deteft  yours.  Go, 
vile  wretch,  hide  yourfelf  from  the  eyes  of 
humanity,  to  which  you  are  a  difgrace." 

The  butcher  flunk  away  amidft  the  hifles 
of  the  boys.  The  mafter  then  addrefled 
himfeif  to  Fillagree  in  thefe  words  :  "  You 
deferve  to  be  feverely  punifhed,  both  for 
killing  the  pigeon,  arid  alfo  for  offering  to 
abet,  in  any  way,  the  odious  rage  of  that  vile 
fellow.  I  am  content,  however,  to  pafs 
over  your  behaviour  without  farther  notice, 
becaufe  the  pigeon  was  mine,  and  alfo  in 
confideration  of  what  you  now  fuffer,  from 
the  wretched  figure  you  make  in  the  eyes 
of  your  fchool-fellows,  which  I  am  willing 
to  hope  will  be  fufficient  to  work  a  favour- 
able change  in  your  behaviour." 

Having  faid  this,  the  mafter  difmiffed 
the  boys  ;  they  attended  Edward  with  the 
moft  genuine  marks  of  applaufe,  while 
Fillagree  fneaked  off  to  his  chamber,  abafhed 
and  confounded  at  the  iffue  of  an  affair, 
R  2  from 


244  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

from  which  he  had  flattered  himfelf  with 
the  gratification  of  his  revenge. 

It  was  not  in  the  mailer's  power  entirely 
toabolifh  cock- lighting,  although  he  took 
great  pains  to  make  the  boys  relinquish  a 
diverfion,  the  tendency  of  which  is  to 
harden  the  heart,  and  to  infufe  a  reliih  for 
fights  of  cruelty  and  bloodmed.  There 
feems  to  be  fome  principle  in  nature  which 
renders  the  fight  of  righting  highly  inte- 
refting  to  the  generality  of  mankind.  In 
this  country,  the  only  mortal  combats 
which  are  permitted,  and  prevail  as  a  public 
amufement,  are  thofe  of  cocks;  but  the 
ihocking  fcenes  which  were  adted  on  the 
Roman  amphitheatres  prove  to  what  a 
height  this  tafte  for  bloody  fpe&acles  may 
be  brought  in  a  whole  nation.  To  behold 
men  cut  and  mangle  each  other;  to  ex- 
pofe  them  to  be  torn  in  pieces  righting 
with  wild  beads,  became  the  favourite  en- 
tertainment of  that  people,  and  increafed 
to  iuch  a  degree,  that  all  other  amufements 
became  comparatively  infipid  ;  ,_they  re- 


EDWARD.  245 

mained  whole  days  in  the  amphitheatres, 
feafting  their  eyes  on  thefe  horrid  fcenes, 
from  which  the  calls  of  bufmefs  or  duty 
were  often  too  feeble  to  draw  them.  Were 
the  Romans  of  a  different  nature  from  the 
reft  of  mankind  ?  or,  Were  the  hearts  of  that 
people  gradually  hardened  by  the  horrid 
policy  of  permitting  fuch  fpe&acles  ?  Is  it 
clear  that  thofe  who  take  delight  in  viewing 
cocks  mangle  and  kill  each  other,  but  think 
with  horror  of  what  pafled  on  the  Roman 
amphitheatres,  would  not  gradually  come 
to  relifh  the  combats  of  gladiators  and  of 
wild  beafts,  if  fuch  combats  were  permitted 
by  the  government  and  laws  of  the  country? 
Mankind  are  efTentially  the  fame  in  all  cli- 
mates; the  points  in  which  they  differ  are 
few  and  trifling  when  compared  with  thofe 
in  which  they  agree.  Britons  are  more 
humane  than  the  Romans,  becaufe  their 
government  is  better,  their  laws  milder,  and 
becaufe  the  fame  fcenes  of  cruelty  are  riot 
exhibited  before  their  eyes.  The  poet's 
obfervation  refpecting  vice  in  general  is 
peculiarly  true  when  applied  to  fcenes  of 

cruelty : 

R  3  Which 


246  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

Which  to  be  hated  need  but  to  be  feen  ; 
Yet  feen  too  oft,  fami!:;'  -  with  her  face, 
We  firft  end:.-,-?,  then/j/y,  than  embrace, 

If  then  a  good  government  is  one  of  the 
moft  powerful  engines  for  precluding  na- 
tional vice  and  promoting  national  virtue, 
is  it  not  the  duty  of  every  Englishman  to 
do  what  is  in  his  power  for  the  prefervation, 
not  of  the  forms  only,  but  the  ipirit  of  that 
free  Conftitution  which  was  eftablifhed  in 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland  in  the  year 
1688? 

A  few  hours  after  the  fcuffle  about  the 
cock  took  place,  Lord  Fillagree  had  written 
a  very  partial  account  of  it  to  his  aunt,  Lady 
Lofty,  imagining  that  fhe  would  write  to 
the  matter  on  the  fubjeft,  and  expecting 
that  her  Ladyfhip's  letter  would  make  him 
declare  againft  Edward,  and  in  his  own  fa- 
vour. In  confequence  of  this  manoeuvre. 
Lady  Lofty  fent  by  cxprefs  a  letter  to  the 
matter,  in  the  following  terms : 

"SIR, 

"  I  have  heard  with  aftonifhment  that  my 
nephew,  the  Right  Honourable  Lord  Filla- 
gree, 


EDWARD.  247 

gree,  was  infulted  in  the  grofleft  manner 
by  a  low  boy,  who  by  fome  overfight  has 
been  admitted  into  your  fchool ;  this  crea- 
ture, I  underftarcd,  is  fupported  by  charity, 
and  came  originally  from  an  hcfpital. 

"  I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  have 
already  punifhed  the  villain  ;  but  I  muft 
farther  infift,  that  he  (hall  be  without 
delay  expelled  ;  this  is  neceflfary  for  your 
own  character,  and  without  it  you  can- 
not expect  that  I,  or  others  of  the  firft 
rank,  will  permit  their  relations  to  remain 
at  your  fchool. 

«  I  am,  &c.  &c.  &c." 

How  much  both  the  young  Lord  and  her 
Ladyfhip  had  miftaken  the  character  of  the 
mafter,  will  appear  by  his  anfwer,  which 
was  as  follows  : 

"  MADAM, 

"  I  have  the  honour  of  your  Ladyfhip's 
letter,  and  muft  fuppofe  that  the  affair  be- 
tween your  nephew  and  young  Edward  has 
been  very  much  mifreprefented  to  you  ;  for 
after  a  very'  full  examination  into  all  the 
R  4  circum- 


348  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

circumftances,   I  can  aflure  your  Ladyfhip 
that  there  is  inconteftible  proof  of  the  lat- 
ter's  having  behaved    through  the    whole 
with  equal  fpirit  and  humanity,  which  in- 
deed is  conformable  to  the  character  I  re- 
ceived of  him  when  he  firft  came  to  the 
fchool,  and  which  he  has  fupported  ever 
fince  he  has  been  in  it.     With  regard  to  the 
unfortunate  circumftance   in    this  youth's 
fituation,  to  which  you  allude,  I  have  only 
to  obferve,   that  whatever   his  birth  may 
be,   his  difpofition,    talents,   and  conduct, 
are  fuch  as  would  do  credit  to  the   moft 
illuftrious. 

"  Your  Ladyftiip  muft  therefore  perceive, 
that  if  expulfion  were  a  meafure  neceflary 
to  be  adopted  on  the  prefent  occafion,  he 
is  not  the  perfonon  whom  it  would  be  ex- 
ercifed ;  and  even  had  his  behaviour  been 
as  blameable  as  it  is  praifeworthy,  it  is  my 
duty  to  inform  your  Ladyihip,  that  his  pu- 
nimment  would  neither  have  been  increafed 
jior  diminimed  by  what  you  might  injijl 
upon,  nor  by  the  opinion  of  peribns  of  any 
other  rank,  except  that  of  mafter  of  tliis, 

fchool. 


EDWARD.  249 

fchool.  As  your  Ladyfhip  has  been  pleafed 
to  hint  at  what  you  think  neceflary  for  my 
own  character,  that  being  a  point  which 
touches  me  only,  it  would  be  unreafonable 
to  expect  that  you  fhould  give  yourfelf 
farther  trouble  about  it. 

*'  I  am,  with  all  duerefpeft,  your  Ladyfhip's 
moft  obedient  humble  fervant, 
JOSEPH  GEORGICS." 

The  immediate  confequence  of  this  letter, 
as  the  mafter  expected,  was  Lord  Fillagree's 
removal  from  the  fchool.  From  this  time 
the  Countefs  often  fpoke  againft  this  parti- 
cular feminary,  and  public  fchools  in  ge- 
neral, which  {he  defcribed  as  the  nurferies 
of  licentioufnefs  and  hot-beds  of  fedition, 
where  ranks  were  too  much  confounded, 
and  where  drudging  afliduity  and  vulgar 
acutenefs  were  fometimes  permitted  to 
triumph  over  the  higheft  diftinctions  of 
birth ;  and  fhe  exprefled  her  furprife  that 
the  fons  of  the  nobility  were  not  kept 
diftinct  from  thofe  of  commoners,  by  being 

placed 


250  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

placed  in  feparate  chambers  when  at  fchooJ, 
as  the  peers  and  commoners  are  in  parlia- 
ment, by  which  means  the  fuperiority  of 
the  nobility  over  commoners,  in  all  praife- 
worthy  endowments,  would  be  as  evident 
in  the  public  fchools  as  it  is  in  parliament. 


EDWARD. 


CHAP.     XXVII. 

-.  -  We  might  have  fpared  our  coming  hither, 
Fruitlefs  to  me,  though  fruit  be  here  to  excefs. 

MILTOJT. 


and  Edward  remained  a  confi- 
derable  time  at  this  ichool,  which  proved 
advantageous  to  both,  not  only  on  account 
of  the  progrefs  they  made  in  claflical  lite- 
rature, but  alfo  from  the  fer  vices  they  reci- 
procally rendered  each  other.  Clifton's  at- 
tachment to  Edward  drew  the  attention 
of  feveral  perfons  of  rank  on  the  latter,  by 
whom  otherwife  he  probably  never  would 
have  been  noticed  ;  and  the  high  efteem 
in  which  Clifton  was  held  by  Edward,  gave 
the  former  an  importance  in  the  eyes  of  a 
few  diicerning  men,  which  he  would  not 
have  derived  from  his  fortune  and  birth. 

The  period  at  lad  arrived  when  Clifton's 
relations  thought  proper  that  hefliould  go  to 
che  Univerfity  ;  and  when  the  two  youths 
feparated  at  the  fummer  vacation,  they  ex- 

prefled 


252  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

prefled  mutual  hopes  of  meeting  there, 
Mrs.  Harriet's  inclination  was,  that  Edward 
fhould  have  a  complete  education  in  the 
firft  place  j  and  that  he  fhould  then  be  left 
to  his  own  choice,  with  refpect  to  his  pro- 
feflion.  With  this  view,  fhe  wifhed  that  he 
fhould  pafs  fome  time  at  one  of  the  Univer- 
fities  ;  but  while  fhe  was  confidering  how 
to  render  this  meafure  agreeable  to  her 
hufband,  an  incident  took  place  which 
faved  her  all  farther  thought  on  that  head. 

An  old  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Barnet's  hap- 
pened to  call  upon  him  one  day,  when  his 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  Temple,  and  his  coufm 
Wormwood  were  with  him.  In  the  courfe 
of  converfation,  the  gentleman  mentioned 
his  intention  of  fending  his  ion,  a  youth  of 
eighteen,  to  one  of  the  Univerfuies. 

"  I  prefume,"  faid  Mr.  Wormwood; 
"  your  fon  is  intended  for  the  church." 

"  No,  Sir,"  replied  the  gentleman ;  "  he 
has  always  fhewed  an  averfion  to  the 
church." 

"  He  is  intended,  perhaps,  for  the  fludy  of 
phyfic,"  refumed  Wormwood. 

"So 


EDWARD. 

"  So  far  from  it,"  faid  the  gentleman, 
4<  that  he  loaths  phyfick  more,  if  poflible, 
than  divinity." 

"  Your  fon  may  make  a  very  refpedable 
figure  in  life,  for  all  that,"  faid  Mr.  Barnet ; 
"  for  I  muft  own  I  was  very  much  of  his 
tafte  at  his  age." 

"  Well,  but  what  advantage,"  refumed 
Wormwood,  "  do  you  propofe  to  your  fon 
from  fpending  two  or  three  years  at  the 
Univerfity  ?" 

"  In  the  firft  place,"  replied  the  gentle- 
man, "  he  will  be  removed  for  two  or 
three  years  from  the  fedudions  of  London, 
which  I  think  a  very  great  advantage." 

"  A  very  great  advantage,  indeed !" 
added  Mr.  Barnet. 

"  It  is  an  advantage,  however,"  faid  Mr. 
Wormwood,  "  that  he  might  reap  in  patting 
his  time  in  any  county  of  England,  Middk- 
fex  excepted." 

"  That  is  very  true  likewife,"  rejoined 

Barnet,  after  a  little  mufmg — "  Yes,  to  be 

fure,  he  is  as  clear  of  the  feductions  of  Lon- 

12  don 


254  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

don  in  Cornwall  or  Cumberland*  as  at  Ox- 
ford." 

"  The  greateft  inducement  to  ftudy  is  the 
pleafure  it  affords,"  refumed  Wormwood  ; 
"  if  your  Ion  has  a  tafte  for  ftudy,  he  will 
indulge  it  wherever  he  goes." 

"  I  cannot  fay,  that  hitherto  he  has 
(hewn  any  tafte  for  it,"  anfwered  the  gentle- 
man. 

"  You  had  beft  wait  till  he  does  fliew  a 
little,"  faid  Wormwood,  "  before  you  fend 
him  to  the  Univerfity ;  for  although  fuch 
a  tafte  may  be  ftrengthened  and  improved, 
it  feldom  is  created  there." 

"  It  is  precifely,  becaufe  he  has  betrayed 
a  diftafte  for  ftudy  every  where  elfe,  that  I 
have  taken  the  refolution  of  obliging  him, 
much  againft  his  own  inclination,  to  pafs  a 
couple  of  years  at  the  Univerfity,  in  the 
hopes  that  he  may  acquire  a  fondnefs  for 
it  there,"  faid  the  gentleman. 

"  Why,  Sir,  you  may  juft  as  well  fhut  a 
man  up  in  a  cathedral  for  a  couple  of  years, 

on 


EDWARD.  255- 

on  purpofe   to   give  him  a   tafte  for  the 
church,"  rejoined  Wormwood. 

"  You  muft  allow,"  faid  the  gentleman, 
"  that  it  is  impoffible  for  a  young  man  to 
be  fo  diffipated  at  a  feminary  of  learning  as 
in  the  capital." 

"  I  will  allow  that  it  is  impoffible  to 
be  diffipated  in  the  fame  manner,"  faid 
Wormwood  ;  '*  but  lounging  all  the  morn- 
ing, and  drinking  port  all  the  evening,  are 
as  unlikely  to  create  a  tafte  for  fludy,  as 
paffing  the  fame  time  at  Hyde  Park  and 
the  Theatres." 

"  The  accefs  which  ftudents  have  to  the 
public  libraries  is  furely  a  great  advantage," 
refumed  the  gentleman. 

"  I  am  told,"  anfwered  Mr.  Wormwood, 
"  that  your  own  library  in  the  country  is 
an  excellent  one." 

"  Not  equal  to  thofe  in  the  Univerfities," 
faid  the  gentleman ;  "  and  if  ftudents  do 
not  profit  by  them  there,  it  is  their  own 
fault." 

"  If  my  fon  were  to  raifpend  the  time  al- 
lotted for  ftudy,  it  would  afford  me  no  con- 
folation,"  replied  Mr.  Wormwood,  "  that 
H  it 


256  EDWARD. 

it  was  his  own  fault ;  neither  would  it  maker 
much  difference,  whether  this  happened  at 
the  Univerfity  or  at  my  own  houfe  ;  only, 
at  the  latter  I  fhould  probably  be  fooner  ac- 
quainted with  it.'* 

"  He  may  attend  the  public  lectures  at 
the  Univerfity,"  added  the  gentleman. 

"  Whether  it  is  owing  to  their  being  ill- 
attended  to,  or  from  fome  other  caufe,  I 
cannot  fay,"  anfwered  Mr.  Wormwood ; 
"  but  I  believe  thefe  are  pretty  much  laid 
afide." 

"  If  they  are,"  faid  the  gentleman,  "  ftill 
there  are  many  perfons  to  be  found  at  our 
Univerfities  exceedingly  well  qualified  to 
affift  young  gentlemen  in  their  ftudies." 

"  There  certainly  are,"  refumed  Worm- 
wood ;  "  but  as  your  fon  will  need  but  one, 
he  will  reap  no  additional  advantage  by- 
going,  where  there  are  many." 

"  He  may  be  privately  inftructed  at  ei- 
ther Univerfity,"  faid  the  gentleman. 

"  Not  more  privately,"  anfwered  Worm- 
wood, "  than  at  your  houfe  in  the  coun- 
try." 

. 

"  One 


EDWARD.  257 

"  One  perfon  cannot  teach  another  every 
thing,"  faid  the  gentleman  ;  "  particularly 
one  of  my  fon's  age." 

"  My  dear  Sir,"  rejoined  Mr.  Worm- 
wood, "  I  am  fo  far  from  thinking  that  one 
man  can  teach  another  every  thing,  that  I 
have  long  had  a  notion  that  no  man  can 
teach  another  any  thing." 

"  How  do  people  acquire  learning,  then  ?" 
faid  the  gentleman. 

"  They  teach  themfelves,"  anfwered 
Wormwood. 

"  But  what  becomes  of  thofe  who  cannot 
take  that  trouble  r"  the  other  afked. 

"  They  learn  little  or  nothing,"  anfwered 
Wormwood  ;  "for  although  a  little  Latin 
and  Greek  may  be  whipt  into  a  boy  at 
fchool,  whether  he  will  or  will  not,  all  is 
foon  forgot,  if  they  do  not  afterwards  culti- 
vate thofe  languages  from  tafte.  Believe  me, 
therefore,  Sir,  that  until  your  fon  has  ac- 
qqired  a  real  fondnefs  for  fludy,  until  he 
finds  it  one  of  the  enjoyments  of  his  life, 
to  which  he  is  led  by  the  pleafure  it  pro- 
duces, it  will  be  of  little  importance  to  fend 
him  to  the  Univerfity.  Indeed,  if  be  is  fent 

VOL.  i.  s  contrary 


258  EDWARD. 

contrary  to  his  own  inclination,  the  proba- 
bility is,  that  his  diflike  to  ftudy  and  literary 
fociety  will  increafe  there  ;  whereas,  if  he 
had  already  fome  tafte  for  fuch  purfuits  and 
fuch  fociety,  he  would  himfelf  be  impatient 
to  go  there;  his  tafte  would  be  improved, 
and  he  might  acquire  more  literary  know- 
ledge than,  perhaps,  he  could  in  the  fame 
time,  and  with  equal  application  any  where 
elfe.  All  depends  on  his  own  turn  of  mind  ; 
without  a  ftrong  defire,  nothing  can  be 
learnt  at  your  fon's  age.  Where  many  maf- 
ters  are  employed,  it  generally  happens  that 
the  leaft  is  learnt ;  but  he  that  is  fond  of 
ftudy  will  foon  find  thofe  who  can  aflift 
him." 

The  gentleman,  after  a  cc*nfiderable 
paufe,  refumed.  "  Mod  of  the  young  men 
of  rank,  in  this  country,  pafs  two  or  three 
years  at  one  or  other  of  the  Univerfities ; 
an  early  acquaintance  and  friendfhip  with 
fome  of  them  may  be  highly  advantageous 
to  my  fon,  as  it  has  been  to  many  others." 

"  I  have  heard  that  argument  fo  often 
ufed,"  faid  Wormwood, "  as  a  reafon  for  fend- 
ing young  men  to  the  Univerfities,  that  I 

begin 


EDWARD.  259 

Begin  to  think  it  has  more  extenfive  weight 
than  any  other  ;  it  operates  on  the  mind  like 
the  great  prizes  in  the  lottery  j  people  are  fo 
much  tempted  by  them  as  to  forget  that  it  is 
a  lofmg  game  on  the  whole ;  and  that  the 
acquaintance  and  example  of  thofe  high- 
born youths  may  lead  others  into  habits  and 
purfuits  which  will  more  than  counterba- 
lance all  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from, 
their  friendfhips,  although  there  were  a  cer- 
tainty of  retaining  them.  Befides,"  continued 
he,  "  if  your  greateft  inducement  in  fending 
your  fon  to  an  Univerfity  is  his  forming  an 
acquaintance  with  men  of  quality,  I  imagine 
I  could  put  you  on  a  plan  which  would  give 
him  a  ftill  better  chance  of  fucceeding." 

"  Pray  what  is  that  ?"  cried  Barnet. 

"  Send  him  to  Newmarket  and  the  gam- 
ing-houfes,"  anfwered  Wormwood. 

"  I  believe  there  is  fomething  in  that," 
cried  Mr.  Barnet ;  "  for  there  is  Tom, 
Sweepftakes,  whofe  father  was  a  ccok,  and 
who  never  ftudied  any  thing  but  hazard  and 
horfe-racing  ;  yet  he  is  hand  and  glove 
with  a  greater  number  of  Lords  and  Duke$ 
than  any  fellow  of  any  Univerfity." 

s  a  Mr* 


260  EDWARD. 

Mr.  Temple,  who  hitherto  had  liftencd 
to  the  converfation  without  taking  any  part, 
now  addrefled  himfeif  to  Wormwood  in  the 
following  terms : — 

"  After  all  you  hare  faid,  it  is  evident, 
that  the  utmoft  which  can  be  done  to  ren- 
der a  feminary  of  education  ufeful,  is  to- 
unite  in,  it  as  many  inducements  to  ftudy  as 
we  can,  and  exclude  whatever  corrupts  the 
morals,  and  tends  to  promote  difiipation, 
Thofe  objects  are,  in  fome  degree,  accom- 
plimed  at  our  Univerfities;  tvhere  the  tafte 
of  the  ftudent  may  be  formed  to  literature 
by  the  fociety  and  converfation  of  men  of 
letters,  where  he  has  a  command  of  the  heft 
books  in  every  branch  of  learning,  is  ftimu- 
lated  by  emulation  and  by  literary  rewards, 
while  he  is  fequeftered  from  the  fplendid 
luxuries  of  life,  the  diflipating  amufements 
of  the  capital,  from  afTemblies,  operas,  plays, 
and  has  nothing  prefented  to  his  view  but 
fuch  objects  as  favour  contemplation,  and 
excite  the  defire  of  intellectual  improve- 
ment. There  is  not,  indeed,  an  abfolute 
obligation  on  the  young  men  to  ftudy;  they 

are 


EDWARD.  261 

are  not  compelled  to  their  tafks,  norterrified 
to  exertion  by  the  fame  means  that  are  ufed 
at    inferior  feminaries — and    you  yourfelf, 
Mr.  Wormwood,  have  admitted,  that  after  a. 
certain  age  whatever  a  perfon  learns   effec- 
tually, he  acquires   by  his  own  voluntary 
efforts ;  and  that  thofe  who  rely  on  the  la- 
bour of  teachers  learn  little  or  nothing.   At 
our  Univerfities,  no  doubt,  as  every  where 
fife,  many  young  men  are  averfe  to  fludy, 
fond   of  pleafure,  and  incapable  of  fteady 
application.     The  ablefl  inftrudtors,  and  the 
beft   inftructions,    will  be   of  little    uie    to 
youths  of  fuch  difpofitions,  and  they  will 
receive  as  little  literary  improvement  at  the 
Univcrfity  as  they  would  have  done  had 
they  palled  the  fame  time  in  the  country  or 
in  the  capital.     The  fair  queftion  is,  Whe- 
ther a  young  man,  with  a  tafte  for  letters, 
and  a  defire  for  knowledge,  has  it,  or  has  it 
not  in  his  power  to  improve  himfelf  more 
at  the  Univerfity,  than  he  could  in  the  fame 
time  any  where  elfe  in  this  kingdom  ?  Now, 
that    the    inducements    to    fludy,   and    the 
means  of  literary  improvement,  are  united 
there  as  fuccefsfully  as  in  any  other  part  of 
s  3 


EDWARD. 

this  liland,  or  in  Europe,  feems  probable, 
from  this  obfervation,  that  no  country,  or 
feminary  of  learning  in  Europe,  has  pro- 
duced a  greater  number  of  eminently  learned 
men  than  England,  the  moll  diftinguiftied 
of  whom,  were  educated  at  its  Univer-? 
Titles." 

Mr.  Wormwood,  finding  himfelf  unpre- 
pared to  make  a  ferious  anfwer  to  Mr. 
Temple's  obfervation,  was  driven  to  the 
fubterfuge  of  attempting  a  jeft,  inftead  of 
an  argument ;  he  faid,  with  a  carelefs  air, 
"  This  fertility  of  learning  is,  no  doubt, 
owing,  in  a  great  meafure,  to  the  quantities 
of  port  wine  which  is  drank  at  the  Uni- 
verfities." 

Mr.  Temple  not  deigning  to  make  any 
return  to  this,  the  converfation  took  a  dif- 
ferent turn. 

The  fame  evening  Mr.  Barnet,  who  never 
underftood  irony,  however  obvious,  being 
alone  with  his  coufm  Wormwood,  faid  to 
him,  "  I  never  knew  that  port  wine  was  fo 
much  relifhcd  at  the  Univerfities." 

"  Relilhed  !"  cried  Wormwood,  whom 
the  claret  he  had  drank  after  dinner  had 

put 


EDWARD.  263 

put  him  in  a  gayer  mood  than  ufual;  "  that 
//  is,  (continued  he,)  moft  of  the  ftudents, 
over  and  above  all  their  other  improve-* 
ments,  acquire  at  the  Univerftties  a  decided 
tafte  for  port  wine.** 

"  It  is  the  beft  tafte  they  can  acquire,** 
faid  Mr.  Barnet ;  "  for  it  is  not  only  the 
cheapeft,  but  alfo  the  wholefomeft  wine 
they  can  drink — I  have  always  found  it  fo.'* 
"  It  does  not  infpire  thofe  light  airy  fan- 
cies,'* faid  Wormwood,  "  which  your  thin 
iparkling  French  wines  produce,  but  folid, 
fubftantial,  and  weighty  converfation.** 

"  I  have  always  found  it  fo,**  repeated 
Mr.  Barnet. 

"  Port  wine  infpires  politics  as  copioufly 
as  the  ftreams  of  Caftalia  did  poetry,*'  con- 
tinued Wormwood. 

"  As  for  my  part,"  faid  Mr.  Barnet,  "  I 
never  tafte  any  flream  whatever ;  but  I 
have  been  told  that  the  greateft  politician 
in  the  kingdom  drinks^  nothing  but  port 
wine.'* 

"  How  could  he  otherwife  have  ftood  fo 
long  againft  oppofition  ?"  rejoined  Worm-- 
wood.'* 

34  "IfufpecV 


264  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"  I  fufpca,"  faid  Mr.  Barnet,  "  that  the 
leading  Members  of  Oppofition  deal  too 
much  in  your  frifky  French  wines,  and  in 
that  fame  ftream  you  mentioned." 

"  You  think,  perhaps,  they  had  belter 
apply  to  the  great  politician^c/ar  mentioned, 
for  a  portion  of  his  port,"  faid  Worm- 
wood. 

"  That  is  my  real  opinion,"  anfwered 
Barnet. 

"  It  mud  be  owned,"  faid  Wormwood, 
tc  that  a  very  great  many  people  in  this  coun- 
try are  of  the  fame  opinion." 

Here  the  dialogue  was  interrupted  by 
Mrs.  Barnet's  joining  them. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  too  much  to  affcrt 
that  Mr.  Barnet  was  determined  to  fend 
Edward  to  the  Univerfity,  entirely  by  the 
hopes  of  his  acquiring  a  tafte  for  port  wine, 
and  fo  becoming  a  more  agreeable  compa- 
nion to  Barnet  himfelf ;  but  he  certainly 
often  regretted  that  the  boy  did  not  relifh 
it,  and  was  fomctimes  a  little  cut  of  humour 
with  his  wife  for  encouraging  him  in  his 
abftinence  ;  and  it  is  alfo  certain  that  the 
day  after  this  converfation  with  Worm- 
wood, 


EDWARD.  265 

ptrood,  he  told  Mrs.  Barnet  that  he  was  re- 
folved  to  fend  Edward  to  the  Univerfity,  on 
purpofe  to  finifh  his  education.  Mrs. 
Barnet  approved  highly  of  this  meafure, 
which  was  put  in  execution  a  fortnight  after. 

The  friendfhip  which  had  fo  long  fub- 
fifted  between  Edward  and  Clifton  conti- 
nued with  undiminifhed  fervour  at  the 
Univerfity,  notwithftanding  a  corifiderable 
difference  in  their  characters. 

The  latter  difplaying  a  fire  and  impetuo- 
fity  of  temper  which  often  overleaped  the 
bounds  of  prudence  or  propriety,  while  the 
pafilons  of  the  other  were  more  under  the 
control  of  reflection. 

This  difference  feemed  to  have  arifen 
from  their  oppofite  fituations  in  life,  more 
than  from  any  original  difference  in  their 
difpofmons  or  natural  powers.  One  being 
nobly  defcended,  the>.  heir  of  a  confider- 
able  fortune,  fplendidly  connected,  fur- 
rounded  by  thoie  who  admired  his  viva- 
city and  encouraged  his  diffipation.  The 
dependent  (late  in  which  the  other  was 
placed  Simulated  exertion  and  awakened 
circumfpedtion.  The  firft  ftate  often  pro- 
1  duces 


266  EDWARD. 

duces  an  arrogant  and  unfeeling  character. 
This  was  prevented  in  Clifton  by  early  hints 
from  his  mother,  who,  notwithstanding  her 
life  of  fafhionable  diffipation,  was  a  woman 
of  good  underftanding  and  great  benevo- 
lence. The  fecond  ftate  fometimes  finks 
the  mind  into  defpondency  ;  or,  which  is  a 
ilill  greater  misfortune,  by  fuggefting  flat- 
tery and  fawning,  produces  an  abject  cha- 
ra&er  ;  this  was  prevented  in  Edward  by 
£  native  fund  of  firmnefs  and  manly  pride* 


E  D  \V  A  R  n  267 


CHAP.     XXVIII. 

As,  forc'd  from  wind-guns,  lead  itfelf  can  fly, 

And  pond'rcus  flugs  cut  fwiftly  through  the  fky  } 

As  clocks  to  weight  their  nimble  motion  owe, 

The  wheels  above  urged  by  the  load  below  ; 

Him  emptinefs  and  dulnefs  could  infpire, 

And  were  hi$  elafticity  and  fire.  POPE. 

y\  T  the  Univerfity  Edward  became  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  companions  of  his 
friend  Clifton,  the  natural  carelefsnefs  and 
gaiety  of  whofe  temper  rendered  him  lefs 
delicate  in  his  choice  than  he  ought  to  have 
been  in  lo  important  an  article;  the  relifli 
he  had  for  whatever  was  fingular  and  ridi- 
culous in  character  led  him  fometimes  to 
prefer  the  company  of  thofe  who  were  fo 
diftinguifhed  to  more  eftimable  ibciety; 
from  this,  more  than  from  being  his  kinf- 
man,  proceeded  that  degree  of  intimacy 
which  fubfifted  between  him  and  Mr. 
Carnaby  Shadow.  This  young  man  was  the 
fon  by  a  former  marriage  of  Lady  Maukifh, 
3  who 


268  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

who  was  nearly  related  to  Clifton's  mother  ; 
he  was  of  courfe  fon-in-law  to  Sir  Ma^ 
thew  Maukiih,  \vhofe  behaviour  to  the 
lame  failor  on  the  heath  it  is  hoped  the 
reader  has  not  forgot.  As  Sir  Mathew  is 
about  to  appear  again  on  the  icene,  it  will 
be  proper  to  give  ibme  account  of  his  birth 
and  parentage. 

It  xvas  fortunatf  for  Sir  Mathew,  who 
valued  himfelf  for  being  much  of  a  gentle- 
man, that  he  was  born  in  the  city  of  Lon- 
don ;  for  had  he  been  born  elfewhere, 
there  is  a  chance  that  he  never  would  have 
pafTed  for  a  gentleman  at  all ;  for  it  is  only 
in  London  that  people  of  the  fphere  of  life 
in  which  his  progenitors  moved  could  have 
accumulated  fuch  a  quantity  of  riches,  a*, 
by  the  courtefy  of  England,  procures  the 
title  of  gentleman  to  the  meaneft  of  man- 
kind. 

Yet  as  often  as  Sir  Mathew  had  occafion 
to  mention  his  family  he  pronounced  the 
v/ord  rerun  do  ore,  and  with  as  ilrong  em- 
phafis  as  if  it  had  been  emblazoned  with 
the  proudeft  hieroglyphics  of  heraldry. 

AH 


EDWARD.  2% 

All  we  could  ever  learn,  however,  either 
from  written  annals  or  oral  tradition,  con- 
cerning the  houfe  of  Maukim,  is,  that  the 
grand-father  of  the  prefent  Sir  Matthew 
was  renowned  for  one  of  the  beft  furniihed 
ilop-mops  in  Wapping ;  and  that  his  father 
was  for  many  years  an  eminent  oilman 
in  the  environs  of  Drury-lane.  His  mo- 
ther likewife  diftinguifhed  herfelf  by  va- 
rious improvements  in  the  myfteries  of 
fmoaking  and  pickling,  fo  that  the  very 
beft  fmoaked  tongues  and  niceft  pickles  in 
London  were  thought  to  be  prepared  and 
fold  by  her. 

By  the  joint  efforts  of  this  rcfpedlable 
couple  they  accumulated  a  confide rable  for- 
tune, with  part  of  which  they  purchafed  a 
moderate  eftate  at  no  great  diftance  from 
London,  to  which,  in  the  wane  of  life,  " 
they  retired  with  their  family,  confiding  of 
a  fon  and  daughter.  The  latter  died  young  ; 
the  fon  had  an  UniverGty  education,  and  on, 
the  death  of  his  father  came  into  the  pof- 
feftion  of  a  very  confiderable  fortune, 
which  it  was  the  ruling  paffion  of  his  min<f 
to  increafe  j  he  difdained  however  to  enter 

into 


*7o  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

into  any  of  thofe  lines  of  life  which  are 
called  commercial,  but  determined  to  pur- 
fue  riches  with  all  the  affiduity  of  a  trader 
in  a  different  path.  His  plan  was  to  get 
into  parliament,  where  he  thought  his  ge- 
nius could  not  fail  to  conduct  him  to  greater 
wealth  and  importance.  One  confideratiOn 
afflicted  him;  he  thought  he  obferved  in 
the  minifter  rather  a  prejudice  againft  men 
of  genius ;  that  he  chofe  to  place  in  fome 
of  the  mod  lucrative  offices  and  nearefl  to 
himfelf,  perfons  of  acknowledged  dulnefs 
and  devoid  of  eloquence :  he  regretted 
this,  but  expected  that  he  fhould  have 
addrefs  fufficient  to  create  an  exception  in 
his  own  favour.  It  was  generally  allowed 
that  Sir  Mathew  poflefTed  a  very  large  fhare 
of  vanity  ;  yet  it  was  fometimes  a  fubjedt  of 
difpute  whether  he  was  not  more  avari- 
cious than  vain.  In  forming  his  acquaint- 
ance, his  rule  was  to  connect  himfelf  with 
tbofe  who  might  affift  him  in  his  advance- 
ment in  life,  and  never  require  his  affiftance 
in  return :  he  affiduoufly  cultivated  the 
acquaintance  of  the  opulent  and  powerful, 
literally  obferving  a  maxim  which  had  been 

often 


EDWARD.  271 

often  repeated  to  him  by  his  father — . 

Such  a  man  as  you  would  be, 
Draw  unto  fuch  company. 

By  a  few  years  conftantly  employed  in 
making  this  collection,  he  formed  at  laft, 
what  he  thought,  a  brilliant  afTortment  of 
friends  ;  it  muft  be  confefled,  however,  that 
it  confided  of  a  few  fortunate  knaves,  a 
confiderable  number  of  wealthy  fools,  and 
fome  noble  Lords,  mightily  inclined  to  be  of 
the  firft  clafs,  but  really  belonging  to  the 
fecond. 

Sir  Mathew's  views  enlarged  with  his 
fuccefs  ;  as  he  rofe  in  the  fcale  of  import- 
ance, his  ambition  augmented  in  force,  vires 
acquirit  eundo.  He  had  no  fooner  purchafed 
a  feat  in  parliament,  than  he  looked  with 
the  eyes  of  confidence  to  fome  lucrative 
and  diftinguiihed  office.  Such  a  mark  of 
the  minifter's  attention  he  thought  he  had 
a  claim  to  on  various  accounts,  particularly 
on  that  of  his  eloquence  ;  a  talent,  which,  in 
his  own  opinion,  he  pofleffed  in  an  eminent 
degree,  and  which  he  was  fond  of  difplay- 
iflg  even  in  private  company.  He  ufually 

fpoke, 


272  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

fpoke,  on  the  moft  frivolous  fubjeds,  iri 
fuch  a  declamatory  ftile,  and  delivered  the 
rnoft  common-place  fentiments  with  fuch 
force  of  emphafis  and  gefliculation,  that  an 
inattentive  hearer  might  have  miftaken  his 
verbofity  for  the  dictates  of  wifdom  and 
profound  reflection. 

He  attempted  to  impofe,  in  the  fame 
manner,  on  the  Houfe  of  Commons,  and 
for  this  purpofe  he  ftudied  a  few  fpeechesj 
and  pronounced  them  with  all  the  pomp  of 
an  aclor,  and  all  the  emphafis  of  gefticu- 
lation  ;  hut  the  energy  of  his  delivery  could 
not  give  weight  to  matter  fo  fpecifically 
light ;  it  was  like  firing  loofe  feathers  from 
the  mouth  of  a  cannon — much  noife  but  to 
no  efFecl.  For,  however  the  Members  may 
be  divided  by  the  fpirit  of  party,  yet  neither 
the  influence  of  Adminiftration,  in  that 
houfe,  nor  the  partiality  of  Oppofition,  can 
fave  dullnefs  from  ridicule,  nor  prevent  wit 
and  eloquence  from  open  applaufe.  So  that 
Mr.  Maukifh's  orations  (for  he  was  not 
then  a  Knight^  were  reduced  to  their  real 
value, -and  heard  with  that  contempt  which 

was  their  due- 

AYhen 


EDWARD. 

When  Mr.  Maukifh  found  that  his  par- 
liamentary talents  did  not  piifti  him  up  the 
ladder  of  fortune  fo  quickly  as  he  expeded, 
he  thought  of  affifting  them  by  an  advan- 
tageous marriage.  He  had  as  high  an  opinion 
of  the  charms  of  his  countenance  as  of  his 
oratory  : — in  the  judgment  of  many,  they 
were  much  on  a  footing,  and  equally  in- 
fipid. 

He  paid  his  addrelfes  to  Lady  Bab  Sha- 
dow, by  birth  a  woman  of  quality,  and 
widow  of  a  gentleman  of  that  name.  It 
Was  generally  faid  that  her  Ladyftiip  had 
married  Mr.  Shadow  from  pure  love  ;  but 
there  was  no  reafon  for  this  afTertion,  except 
that  nobody  could  difcover  in  Mr.  Shadow's 
character  arid  fituation  in  life  any  rational 
inducement  for  a  woman  in  her's  to  marry 
him.  Lady  Bab,  however^  after  his  death, 
called  him  the  bed  of  men,  and  declared 
that  although  fhe  wer.e  to  live  a  thoufand 
years  me  never  would  marry  again,  fo  great 
was  her  refpeel:  for  his  memory.  Mr. 
Maukifh  paid  hjs  addrefles  noitwithftand- 
ing  ;  his  eloquence  .  was  more  fuccefsful 
with  Lady  Bab  than  it  had  been  in  the 
'  VOL.  i»  •?  Houfe 


274  EDWARD; 

Houfe  of  Commons ;  flic  confented  to  marry 
him  a  year  and  one  day  after  the  death  of 
Mr.  Shadow,  and  configned  to  her  fecbnd 
hu&and  all  the  perfonal  charms  ihe  had 
formerly  devoted  to  the  firft:  it  muft  be 
confefled  the  cargo  was  not  fplendid  ;  Mr, 
Maukifti  himfelf  ufed  to  fay,,  that  it  was 
not  a  fet  of  features  or  complexion  that  he 
admired. 

His  afpiring  mind  was  touched  by  con- 
templating her  connections  and  her  favour 
at  court,  which  he  thought  much  greater 
than  it  was  in  reality.  While  fuch  contem- 
plations afforded  him  pleafure,  he  was  fecure 
from  one  fource  of  mortification  that  hum- 
bles the  pride  of  fome  hufbands — the  luftre 
of  his  own  un-derftamling  could  not  be  ob- 
fcured  by  the  brilliancy  of  his  Lady's. 

Lady  Bab  Maukifh  was  unqueftionably  a 
very  weak  woman ;  fome  people  have  af- 
ferted  that  fhe  was,  without  exception,  the 
illlieft  woman  of  quality  about  court. 
This  was  going  too  far,  and  could  be  be- 
lieved only  by  thofe  who  were  better  ac- 
quainted with  Lady  Bab  than  with  fome 
other  Ladies  of  quality  about  court, 

So  co 


EDWARD.  275 

Soon  after  the  marriage,  a  relation  of  her 
Ladyfhip  having  been  created  a  Knight  of 
the  Bath  while  he  was  abroad,  that  gentle- 
man, at  Lady  Bab's  felicitation,  appointed 
Mr.  Maukifh  to  reprefent  him  at  the  inftal- 
ment,  by  which  proxy  he  obtained  the 
honour  of  knighthood,  and  became  Sir 
Mathew  Maukifh.  This  trophy,  which 
generally  terminates  the  vifta  of  ambition 
to  phyficians,  furgeons,  painters,  and  alder- 
men, did  not  fatisfy  that  of  Sir  Mathew 
Maukifh  :  he  ardently  looked  towards  fome 
important  office,  and  had  even  hopes  of 
obtaining  a  peerage  at  no  very  diftant  period. 
Flattering  himfelf  that  he  mould  have  his 
two  predominant  paffions,  avarice  and  am- 
bition, fully  fatisfied.  He  was  difappointed 
in  both  ;  the  firfl  cannot  be  fatisfied,  and  he 
was  not  created  a  Peer. 

Yet  Sir  Mathew  and  his  Lady  were  the 
two  moft  afliduous  attenders  of  the  levee 
and  drawing-room  within  the  bills  of  mor- 
tality. Befides  other  motives,  Sir  Mathevc 
delighted  in  feeing  his  own  name  in  the  lift, 
which,  for  the  edification  of  the  public,  the 
compilers  of  newfpapers  exhibit  of  thofe 
T  2  who 


276  E  D  W  A  &  D. 

who  were  prefent  at  the  laft  levee :  it  was  a 
great  mortification  to  him  for  a  confiderable 
time  to  find  himfelf  neglected ;  but  at 
length  he  fell  on  means  to  have  the  name  of 
Sir  Mathew  Maukifh  always  inferted  among 
the  dijlinguijhed  characters  who  had  been  at 
court  the  preceding  day,  and  Lady  Maukifh 
had  every  article  of  her  drefs  mentioned 
after  every  birth- day. 

But  finding  that  all  this  perfonal  affiduity, 
joined  to  the  influence  of  his  wife's  rela- 
tions and  his  own  parliamentary  talents, 
produced  not  the  defired  effect  ;  perceiving 
that  one  batch  of  Peers  was  created  after 
another,  without  any  notice  being  taken  of 
him ;  he  loft  all  patience  ;  fwore  that  the 
peerage  was  proftituted  in  fuch  a  manner, 
that  it  was  a  difgrace  for  a  gentleman  to  be  of 
the  order  ;  and  that,  for  his  own  part,  "  by 
God,  he  was  determined  never  to  be  a  Peer  j 
— his  Majefty  might  take  it  as  he  pleafed." 

Sir  Mathew  had  obferved  pretty  ftrong 
fymptoms  of  weaknefs  in  the  Adminiftra- 
tion,  which,  joined  to  his  ill-humour,  deter- 
mined him  to  vote  with  Oppofition — and 
before  the  end  of  that  very  fefiioo,  he  had 

the 


EDWARD.  277 

thepleafure  of  feeing  the  party  he  had  joined, 
eftablifhed  in  power ;  of  courfe,  all  his  hopes 
revived,  and  his  averfion  to  a  peerage 
abated  every  moment.  But  when  he  thought 
himfelf  in  a  fair  way  of  obtaining  the  ob- 
ject of  his  wifhes,  a  new  Adminiftration 
was  fuddenly  formed  ;  the  party  he  had 
joined  was  turned  out ;  and  he  himfelf  again 
ranked  among  the  opponents  of  Adminiftra- 
tion ;  a  fituation  very  unfuitable  to  the 
mind  of  a  fervile  worfhipper  of  power, 
devoted  to  any  government  or  any  mi- 
nifter,  while  the  one  exifted,  or  the  other 
kept  his  place.  Thus,  by  a  moft  unexpected 
jumble  in  politics,  Sir  Mathew  Maukifh, 
with  fome  other  unfortunate  gentleman, 
whofe  political  creed  was  the  fame  with  his, 
found  himfelf  at  once  fhuffled  into  Oppofi- 
tion,  and  obliged  to  ad  contrary  to  his  de- 
termination and  principles.  Without  one 
fentiment  in-  common  with  the  leaders  of 
the  party  he  had  joined,  and  incapable  of 
tailing  the  fpirit  of  their  converfation,  or 
putting  a  juft  value  on  their  talents,  he  was 
•under  the  neceflity  of  voting  with  them. 
T  3  No 


278  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

No  man  ever  more  heartily  repented  any 
aft  of  his  life  than  Sir  Mathew  Maukifh. 
did  that  unfortunate  fit  of  anger  which 
made  him  defert  the  minifterial  banners,  and 
inlift  with  thofe  who  had  fo  little  chance  of 
ever  having  the  power  to  promote  his  in,- 
?ereft,the  only  motive  which,  in  his  opinion, 
a  man  of  found  judgment  could  have  for 
being  of  either  party,  or,  indeed,  for  being  in 
Parliament  at  all.  And  when  inftances  were 
quoted  of  men  who  are  actuated  by  no  dif- 
cernible  motive  but  a  regard  for  the  inte- 
reft  of  their  country,  he  confidered  them, 
to  whichever  party  they  belonged,  and 
whatever  their  reputation  for  good  fenfe 
might  be,  as  nearly  approaching  to  ideots. 

Sir  Mathew  had  all  poffible  inclination 
to  make  another  wheel,  and  return  to  the 
minifterial  party  ;  but  he  dreaded  the  re- 
fentment  of  his  new  friends,  and  the  ridicule 
•with  which  he  well  knew  they  would  over- 
whelm him  ;  and  therefore,  although  he  was 
determined  to  quit  them,  he  waited  for 
fome  pretext,  and  in  the  meanwhile  he 
attended  the  Houfe  lefs  punctually  than 
formerly.  But  on  his  hinting  an  intention 

of 


£  D  \V  A  Px  D.  279 

,-af  flaying  away  when  a  debate  very  inte- 
•refting  to  the  party  was  expected ;  it  ftruck 
even  Lady  Bab  fo  much,  that  fhe  faid,  "  Do 
you  not  rifk  forfeiting  the  friendship  of  the 
leaders  of  Gppofition,  if  you  do  not  aiFift 
in  promoting  their  meafures  ?"  To  which 
Sir  Mathew  replied,  "  Of  what  value,  my 
dear,  is  the  friendship  of  thcrfe  who  have 
nothing  to  beftow-?  As  for  their  meafures — 
though,   no   doubt,  they  think   them  cal- 
culated to  bring  themfelves   into   power ; 
yet,  what  is  to  be  expected  from  men  who 
never  accomplish   the  object  they  have  in 
view,  or  having  accomplifhed  it,  allow  it 
to  efcape  immediately   after  ?     They   are 
the  moft  unlucky  crew  that  ever  ventured 
on  the  fame  bottom  ;  they  are  conflantly 
in  ftorms,  or  with  the  wind  blowing  di- 
redly  in  their  teeth  ;  and  if,  for  a  won- 
.der,  a  gale   fhould   fpring  -up  in  their  fa- 
vour, when  they  feem  ready  to  reach  their 
long  wi-fhed-for  harbour,  the  wind  veers 
about  in  an  inftant,  and  puff — they  are 
tlown  back  into  the  bleak  and  hoifterous 
ocean  of  Oppofition." 

T4  Sir 


EDWARD. 

Sir  Mathew's  difpleafure  at  both  parties 
gained  on  his  mind  daily,  until  at  length  de- 
tefting  politics,  and  out  of  humour  with  him- 
felf,  he  retired  with  his  Lady  to  the  country 
in  difguft.  Few  of  the  fair  fex  could  be  lefs 
calculated  than  Lady  Bab  Maukifh  to  cure  a 
man  of  difguft  ;  the  ftate  of  mind,  there- 
fore, in  which  he  left  town  gained  ftrength 
in  the  country ;  he  endeavoured,  indeed, 
to  confine  his  ill- humour  to  his  own  family ; 
but,  like  the  bufmefs  of  a  tallow-chandler, 
although  its  effects  were  ftrongeft  at  home, 
yet  it  became  alfo  a  nuifance  to  all  thq 
neighbourhood. 


EDWARD. 


CHAP.    XXIX. 

Their  only  labour  was  to  kill  the  time  ; 

And  labour  dire  it  is,  and  weary  woe. 
They  fit,  they  loll,  turn  o'er  fome  idle  rhyme  ; 

Then  rifing  fudden  to  the  glafs  they  go, 
Or  faunter  forth,  with  tottering  flep  and  flow  ; 

This  foon  too  rude  an  exercife  they  find  ; 
Strait  on  the  couch  their  limbs  again  they  throw» 

Where  hours  on  hours  they  fighingly  reclin'd, 
And  court  the  vapoury  God  foft  breathing  in  the  wind, 

THOMSON. 

A/TR.  Carnaby  Shadow  was  educated  at 
Weftmin,fter  fchool,  from  which  he  was 
in  due  time  fent  to  Oxford;  he  foon  forgot  at 
the  latter  all  that  he  had  been  forced  to  learn 
at  the  former.  After  continuing  three  years 
at  the  Univerfity,  he  pafTed  two  years  in  the 
capital,  without  once  thinking  of  any  fettled 
plan  of  life,  or  any  body  fuggefting  to  him 
that  any  fuch  plan  was  expedient ;  for 
although  his  fortune  was  originally  confi- 
derable,  he  had  already  contrived  to,  diffi- 
pate  all  that  was  left  by  his  father  in  ready 
3  money ; 


.EDWARD. 

money  ;  his  mother's  jointure  abforbed  a 
great  part  of  his  eftate,  and  he  was  reduced 
to  a  very  limited  income.  It  was,  therefore* 
fuggefted  to  Lady  Bab,  by  a  relation  of  her 
late  hufband,  that  it  would  DC  highly  expe- 
dient for  her  fon  to  adopt  fome  profeflion. 
Her  Ladyfhip,  being  ftrongly  imprefied 
with  the  propriety  of  this,  wrote  to  her  fon 
to  come  immediately  to  Sir  Mathew's  ho.ufe 
in  the  country,  as  fire  had  bufinefs  of  great 
importance  to  communicate  to  him. 

Nothing  could  be  more  unfortunately  ex- 
prefTed  than  this  letter,  becaufe  Carnaby  had 
a  kind  of  horror  for  the  very  name  of  bu- 
fmefs,  particularly  if  it  was  of  importance ; 
and  betides,  he  was  not  very  fond  of  his 
mother's  company,  and  had  a  complete 
abhorrence  of  Sir  Mathew's. 

He  therefore  made  one  excufe  after  ano<- 
ther  for  not  leaving  the  town,  being  deter- 
mined not  to  go  near  them  until  this  bufi- 
nefs  of  importance  fhouid  be  terminated. 
Lady  Bab,  however,  became  fo  impatient 
that  fhe  wrote  to  inform  him,  that  fmce  he 
could  not  come  to  the  country,  fhe  had  re- 

folv^d 


EDWARD. 

folved  to  go  to  town,  and  would  expert  that 
he  would  meet  her  on  a  particular  day, 
which  (he  mentioned,  to  fettle  the  important 
bufmefe.  This  terrified  Mr.  Shadow  fo 
much,  that  he  fet  out  directly  for  Bath, 
defiring  the  people  at  his  lodgings  to  lay, 
that  he  had  gone  the  day  before,  and  had 
not  received  her  Ladymip's  letter. 

Difappointed  of  feeing  her  fon,  Lady  Bab 
fent  for  that  relation  of  her  hufband  who 
had  firft  fuggefted  the  propriety  of  Carna- 
by's  applying  to  fome  profeffion.  She  in- 
formed him  of  her  errand  to  town,  and  at  the 
fame  time  afked  his  opinion  refpecling  the 
profeffion  which  it  would  be  moft  proper  for 
her  fon  to  adopt.  The  gentleman  mentioned 
the  army  as  the  moft  honourable ;  adding,that 
he  imagined  her  Ladylhip  mould  purchafe 
an  Enfigncy  in  the  guards  without  delay.  To 
this  Lady  Bab  anfwered,  that  the  fame  idea 
had  ftruck  herfelf ;  but  (he  und.-rfloo'i  that 
the  King  was  a  little  too  apt  of  late  to  lend 
the  guards  abroad  in  time  of  war,  which, 
had  obliged  feveral  valuable  officers  to  lell 
put  of  the  army. 

The 


EDWARD. 

The  gentleman  feemed  a  little  furprifed 
at  her  Ladyfhip's  objection,  and  hinted,  that 
without  feeing  fome  fervice  in  the  time  of 
war  it  would  be  impoffible  to  acquire  the 
knowledge  neceflary  for  a  general  officer, 
which  was  a  rank,  no  doubt,  that  fhe  ex- 
peded  her  fon  would  attain  in  due  time. 

"  I  muft  afk  your  pardon,"  faid  Lady 
Bab  ;  "  I  myfelf  am  acquainted  with  fome 
excellent  general  officers,  who  never  ferved 
abroad,  or  in  the  time  of  war ;  but  my  fon's 
going  into  the  army  is  out  of  the  queftion, 
lince  the  original  ufe  of  the  guards  feems 
to  be  quite  altered." 

"  Pray  what  does  your  Ladyfhip  think 
was  the  original  ufe  of  the  guards  ?"  faid 
the  gentleman. 

"  To  defend  the  King  and  Royal  Family 
at  home,"  replied  Lady  Bab;  "  and,  there- 
fore, it  was  natural  to  exped:  that  he  in  re- 
turn would  prevent  them  from  being  ex- 
pofed  to  dangers  abroad ;  but  his  Majefty, 
it  feems,  thinks  otherwife,  and  we  muft  fub- 
mit.  But  as  the  law  is  the  next  honour- 
able profeffion  to  the  army,  I  hope  my  fon 
will  choofe  it  for  his  profeflion.  Having  had 


EDWARD.  285 

an  Univerfity  education,  he  is,  in  all  re- 
fpects,  fitted  for  that  line  of  life,  in  which 
his  family  connections  can  help  his  promo- 
tion, as  effectually  as  they  could  had  he 
chofen  the  army." 

The  gentleman  perceiving  that  her  La- 
dyfhip  afked  his  advice,  as  is  ufual,  on  a 
point  which  fhe  had  already  decided,  did 
not  take  the  trouble  to  ftate  the  objections 
which  occurred  to  him  againil  her  project ; 
and,  in  compliance  with  her  requeft,  he 
propofed  it  to  Carnaby  on  his  return  to 
town. 

Although  this  gentleman  put  the  pro- 
pofal  in  the  moft  favourable  light,  to  render 
it  agreeable  to  Carnaby,  yet,  as  he  could 
not  avoid  hinting  the  neceffity  of  Ji  it  dying 
the  law  before  it  could  be  turned  to  any  ac- 
count, the  youth  was  fomewhat  alarmed; 
he  had  been  forced  to  ftudy  fo  greatly  againft 
his  appetite  at  Weftminfter,  that  he  retained 
an  averfion  to  it  all  the  time  he  was  at  Ox^ 
ford,  and  ftill  felt  a  little  fqueamifh  when 
the  word  ftudy  was  mentioned. 

But  on  being  afterwards  aflurect  by  an 
ekl  chum,  that  to  give  him  a  right  to  prac-* 

tife 


E  D  W  A  R  D. 

tife  law,  it  was  not  ftudying,  but  eating,  that 
was  requifite ;  that  the  former  was  entirely 
optional,  and  often  omitted  by  thofe  who 
are  called  ftudents  of  the  law.  What  was 
indifpenfably  necefTary  was,  that  he  fhould 
eat  commons  twelve  times;  that  this  mufl 
take  up  five  years  to  all  who  have  not  been 
educated  in  one  or  other  of  the  Englifh 
Univerfities  ;  whereas  if  they  have  had  that 
advantage,  two  years  would  be  deducted,  of 
courfe  he  might  be  called  to  the  bar  within 
three  years,  provided  that  he  paid  his  quar- 
terly dues  for  twelve  terms. 

Carnaby  was  a  good  deal  relieved  by  this 
account  of  the  matter,  and  as  he  was  a  little 
in  want  of  money  and  expected  a  fupply 
from  his  mother,  he  vvifhed  to  conciliate 
her  as  much  as  poflible,  and  gave  her  to 
underftand  that  he  had  no  objection  to  the 
ftudy  of  law,  and  was  ready  to  begin  when, 
fhe  pleafed. 

Lady  Bab  was  delighted  with  this  in- 

ftance    of    compliance   in     her    fon :    fhe 

immediately  caufed  the  genteeleft  chambers 

that  could   be  had   to  be  taken  for  him. 

1 3  Carnaby 


£  B  W  A  K  0. 

Carnaby  mentioned  a  confiderable  fum  that 
would  be  neceflary  to  purchafe  law  books. 
But  Lady  Bab  had  already  taken  care  of 
that,  having  procured  from  an  eminent 
lawyer  of  her  acquaintance  an  ample  lift  of 
books,  which  .fhe  informed  her  fon  were 
already  ordered,  and  would  be  fent  to  his 
chambers  as  foon  as  they  could  be  got 
ready.  This  was  fomewhat  of  a  difap- 
pointment  to  Carnaby,  who  had  no  inten- 
tion to  expend  on  books  the  whole  fum  he 
expected  to  be  advanced  for  his  library. 
It  was  fome  confolation  however  when  he 
faw  them  brought  home,  and  arranged  ac- 
cording to  their  various  ranks  on  the 
{helves  ;  for  his  mother  had  ordered  them 
to  be  all  bound  in  red  morocco  and  mag- 
nificently guilt,  fo  that  they  had  more  the 
appearance  of  a  gay  afiembly  of  officers  of 
the  guards,  all  glittering  in  their  full  uni- 
forms, than  being  related  in  the  fmalleft 
degree  to  the  fable  brotherhood  of  Weft- 
minfter-hall. 

When  Garnaby  did  not  know  what  to 
do  with  himfelf,  which  was  often  the  cafe, 
he  fometimes  made  a  journey  to  Oxford  to 

fee 


E  D  W  A  R  D. 

fee  his  young  coufm  Clifton,  and  became  ac* 
quainted  with  all  his  companions.  Being 
confiderably  older  than  any  of  them,  and 
looked  on  as  a  man  of  fafhion,  thofe  youths 
were  highly  flattered  by  being  of  the  party 
when  he  came  to  pafs  ^a  day  or  two  with 
Clifton,  who  was  too  apt  to  be  enticed  to 
return  the  vifit,  and  fometimes  perfuaded 
Edward  to  accompany  them  to  the  capita^ 
where  Carnaby  made  them  acquainted  with 
companions  far  more  dangerous  than  him- 
felf. 

At  the  Univerfity,  Carnaby  had  been  con- 
fidered  as  one  of  the  beft-natured  fellows  in 
the  world  ;  he  feemed  to  have  no  object 
nor  will  of  his  own,  but  continually  agreed 
to  whatever  was  propofed  by  others  ;  and 
when  no  one  was  at  hand  to  fuggeft  what 
ihould  be  done,  he  lounged  from  one  place 
to  another,  fo  entirely  devoid  of  thought, 
that  when  he  returned  home  he  could  no 
more  give  any  account  of  where  he  had 
been  than  if  his  legs  had  walked  away  with 
his  head  and  body,  without  confulting  the 
former  in  the  leaft  .on  the  fubjedt.  This 
indolence  and  indifference  extended  even  to 

his 


EDWARD.  289 

his  drefs  which  alarmed  Lady  Bab  with  the 
apprehenfion  that  he  would  degenerate  into 
a  floven.     Her  Ladyfhip,  however,  was  not 
allowed  to  remain  long  under  this  dread ; 
for  foon  after  he  came  to  town,  he  took  a 
new  turn,  and  from  a  floven  became  a  fop. 
Although  Carnaby  had  frequently  found 
time  a  great  load  at  the  Univerfity,yet  on  his 
firft  coming  to  London  he  thought  it  equally 
oppreffive  ;  for  it  had  been  reprefented  to 
him,  that  eating  and  keeping  terms  were  not 
all  that  was  neceflary  to  give  the  reputation 
of  knowledge  in  the  law ;  that  it  was  alfo 
incumbent  on  him,  at  certain  feafons  of  the 
year,  to  remain  feveral  hours  every  day  in 
his  chambers ;  and,  as  often   as  any  body 
called  for  him,  to  be  found  with  two  or 
three  large  law  folios  open  on  the  table  be- 
fore him.    This  Carnaby  thought  fo  intoler- 
able a  flavery,  that  although  he  was  aflured 
of  its  being  the  univerfal  practice,  he  never 
fubmitted  to  it,  except  when  he  knew  that 
Lady  Maukifli  was  in  town,  becaufe  ihe  was 
apt  to  carry  her  acquaintance  to  admire  the 
library  and  learning  of  her  fon.  But  as  foon 
VOL.  i.  u  as 


29o  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

as  he  knew  that  fhe  had  fet  out  for  the 
country,  he  neglected  his  folios,  and  turned 
his  attention  to  drefs. 

A  bias  to  this  kind  of  foppery  is  a  mis- 
fortune to  a  mind  of  any  vigour,  which  is 
capable  of  being  turned  to  objects   of  im- 
portance ;  but  to  a  mind  entirely  relaxed 
by  indolence  it  may  rather  be  an  advantage, 
by  warding  off  wearinefs,  and  precluding  a 
tafte  for  drinking  or  other  pernicious  re- 
fources. — It    certainly    helped   Carnaby  to 
get    over     many    an    hour    which    hung 
heavy  on  his  hands;  for  the  accuracy  and 
minutenefs  with  which  he  attended  to  all  the 
variations  of  drefs,  as  they  appeared  on  the 
great  leaders  of  famion,  were  aftonifhing  to 
thofe  who  were  acquainted  with  his  former 
indifference  and  inattention.     And  as  foon 
as  he  made  any  new  difcovery,  whether  in 
the  height    of  the   cape   of  the  frock,  the 
cut   of  its   fleeve,  or  in  the  length  of  the 
breeches,  he  communicated  it  to  his  own 
taylor,  by  whofe  rapid  induftry,  although 
Carnaby  was  merely  a  copier,  he  fometimes 
pafl"ed  for  the  original  inventor.     And  as 

boots 


EDWARD.  291 

boots  and  buckfkin  breeches  are  eflential 
articles  in  a  Britifh  coxcomb's  wardrobe,  he 
was  profufely  provided  with  both ;  indeed 
none  of  the  moft  eminent  collectors  of  the 
age,  a  few  perfons  of  high  rank  and  fortune 
excepted,  furpafled  him  in  the  variety  of 
Twitches,  horfe-whips,  fhoe-buckles,  fhirt- 
pins,  feals,  and  watch  chains,  which  adorned 
his  mufeum.  The  hair-drefTer,  with  the  help 
of  the  fportfman's  calender  and  Harris's  lift, 
cleared  him  without  a  great  deal  of  yawning 
of  two  hours  immediately  before  dinner; 
after  which  he  was  feldom  at  a  lofs,  having 
the  play-houfe  or  opera  till  eleven  at  night, 
and  Ranelagh  or  the  tavern  until  three  in  the 
morning,  when  he  was  not  engaged  to 
fome  ball  or  private  dance,  to  which  and 
to  dinner  he  received  frequent  invitations; 
which,  with  the  cards  of  his  vifitors,  were 
attentively  placed  on  his  chimney,  fuch  as 
were  graced  with  titles  being  confpicuoufly 
muftered  in  the  front,  while  the  lower 
order  occupied  the  center  and  rear  ranks. 


u  2 


292  EDWARD. 


CHAP.     XXX. 

Creatures  of  every  kind  but  ours 
Will  comprehend  their  natural  powers  ; 
While  we,  whom  reafon  ought  to  fway, 
Miitake  our  talents  every  day.  SWIFT. 

/CLIFTON  and  Edward  happened  to  be  at 
Carnaby's  chamber  one  day,  when 
Lady  Bab  Maukifh  entered.  Clifton  had 
always  been  a  great  favourite  with  her  La- 
dyfhip ;  but  flie  had  heard,  with  indigna- 
tion, that  he  had  formed  an  intimacy  with 
a  youth  of  low  birth,  and  had  intended  to 
take  the  firft  opportunity  of  remonftrating 
with  him  on  the  impropriety  of  fuch  an 
improper  connection  ;  but  when  Clifton 
prefented  Edward  to  her,  fhe  was  fo  (truck 
with  the  beauty  and  fymmetry  of  his  face 
and  perfon,  that  me  changed  her  refolution, 
and  engaged  all  the  three  to  dine  with  her 
the  day  following  ;  and  afterwards  made 
Clifton  promife  to  vifit  her  in  the  country, 

and 


EDWARD.  293 

and  bring  his  friend  with  him,  as  foon  as 
they  could  leave  the  Univerfity  for  a  week 
or  two. 

The  two  youths  went  foon  after,  and 
were  accompanied  by  Carnaby  ;  they  were 
received  with  kindnefs  by  Lady  Bab,  and 
with  the  appearance  of  it  by  Sir  Mathew, 
who  thought  it  his  intereft  to  pay  refped; 
to  one  of  Clifton's  family,  and  on  his  ac- 
count was  alfo  civil  to  Edward.  Although 
Sir  Mathew  lived  at  no  great  diftance  from 
Mr.  Barnet's  family,  they  were  little  ac- 
quainted ;  he  defpifed  Barnet  as  a  mere  cit, 
unconnected  with  people  of  quality — but  at 
prefent  Sir  Mathew  had  a  point  to  carry 
in  the  country,  in  which  he  had  no  hopes 
of  fucceeding,  if  Barnet,  whofe  intereft  was 
more  affected  by  it  than  that  of  any  other, 
fhould  oppofe  him.  This  circumftance  Sir 
Mathew  communicated  to  his  Lady,  and 
they  directly  began  to  cultivate  an  acquaint- 
ance with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barnet,  which 
grew  to  fome  degree  of  intimacy. 

Sir  Mathew  invited  them  to  dinner,  while 

Clifton  and  Edward  were  with  him.     Mifs 

Barnet  had  left  her  boarding-fchool  fome 

u  3  time 


294  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

time  before,  but  fhe  was  at    this  period  at 
Brighton    with   Mrs.    Temple,    who   had 
gone  there    on     account  of    her    health. 
Carnaby  alfo  happened  to  be  abfent  from 
this   dinner,    which   gave    Lady  Maukifh 
more    freedom  to    expatiate  on    the   pro- 
mifing    tale-:ts   and    high   expectations   of 
her  fon,  and  the  figure  he   was  likely  to 
make  as  a  lawyer  and  ftatefman  ; — this  was 
&  favourite  topic  with  her  Ladyfhip. 

Mr.  Barnet  happened  to  obferve,  "  that 
if  he  fhould  turn  out  to  be  a  good  lawyer, 
there  was  no  need  of  his  being  a  ftatefman 
alfo." 

"  It  is  of  importance,  however,"  faid  Sir 
Mathew,  "  to  a  man  who  is  in  Parliament 
to  be  at  the  fame  time  of  a  profeffion,  be- 
caufe  that  circumftance  can  do  him  no 
harm  while  his  friends  are  in  power,  and 
may  be  of  great  ufe,"  added  he,  with  a  figh, 
u  in  cafe  they  fhould,  by  any  curfed  acci- 
dent, be  turned  out." 

"  What  is  the  beft  profeffion,  do  you 
think,  for  a  ftatefman  to  be  of?*'  faid  Mr, 
Barnet. 

"No 


EDWARD.  295 

"  No  profeffion  is  fo  lucrative  as  the  law," 
anfwered  Sir  Mathew. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  rejoined  Mr. 
Barnet ;  "  the  mercantile  is  as  lucrative  at 
lead." 

"  The  mercantile  leads  to  riches,  but  not 
to  honours,"  faid  Lady  Maukilh. 

"  It  is  a  great  honour  to  be  rich,  an  pleaie 
your  Ladyfhip,"  faid  Mr.  Barnet. 

"  I  was  juft  going  to  fay  fo,"  added  Sir 
Mathew. 

"  But  it  is  ftill  greater  honour,"  rejoined 
Lady  Maukifh,  "  both  to  be  rich,  and  Lord 
Chancellor  of  England." 

"  I  do  not  fully  perceive,"  faid  Mr. 
Barnet,  after  ruminating  a  little,  "  how  the 
Lord  Chancellor  (begging  your  Ladyfhip' s 
pardon)  conies  to  be  introduced  at  pre- 
fent." 

"  I  made  the  obfervation,  Mr.  Barnet," 
replied  Lady  Maukifh,  "  becaufe  my  fon  is 
to  be  immediately  called  to  the  bar ;  and 
confidering  his  connections  and  abilities, 
there  can  be  little  doubt,  fooner  or  later,  of 
his  arriving  at  that  dignity  ;  which  proves 
u  4  that 


296  EDWARD. 

that  the  profeffion  of  law  is  preferable  for 
him." 

<c  Pufh  round  the  bottle,  Mr.  Worm- 
wood," faid  Sir  Mathew,  a  little  out  of 
countenance,  and  wifhing  to  change  the 
fubjecT;  of  difcourfe. 

"  I  beg  leave  to  drink  the  health  of  my 
Lord  Chancellor  Garnaby  Shadow,"  faid 
Mr.  Wormwood  filling  a  bumper. 

Obfervingthatfome  relations  of  Carnaby's 
who  were  prefent,  feemed  ftill  more  uneafy 
than  Sir  Mathew  ;  and  that  Mr.  Wormwood 
was  fliarpening  all  the  weapons  of  his  ri- 
dicule, Mrs.  Barnet  put  her  hufband  in 
mind  that  they  had  a  good  way  to  drive, 
and  had  beft  order  the  carriage." 

They  fet  out  a  little  after,  and  were  ac- 
companied in  the  coach  by  Mr.  Worm- 
wood. 

.  What  Lady  Maukifh  had  faid  refpeding 
the  profeffion  of  the  law  had  made  a  ftrong 
impreffion  on  the  mind  of  Mr.  Barnet; 
after  a  pretty  long  filence,  he  afked  his  wife 
abruptly,  "  If  fhe  did  not  think  that  the 
bufmefs  of  a  lawyer  was  one  of  the  beft  that 
a  young  man  could  be  bred  to  ?" 

7  It 


EDWARD.  297 

It  ftruck  Mrs.  Barnet  at  the  inftant,  that 
her  hufband's  queftion  regarded  Edward,  as 
Mr.  Barnet  had,  on  former  occafions, 
fpoken  to  her  refpecting  the  profeffion  he 
ought  to  be  bred  to  ;  but  me  had,  with  her 
ufual  addrefs,  procraftinated  any  decifion 
on  that  head,  until  he  fhould  have  remained 
a  fufficient  time  at  the  Univerfity,  which 
being  now  accomplished,  fhe  anfwered,"  that 
the  bufmefs  of  a  lawyer  was  one  of  the  heft 
that  a  young  man  could  follow,  provided  that 
he  was  thoroughly  well  educated,  of  quick 
parts,  and  capable  of  ftrong  application." 

"  I  am  precifely  of  the  fame  way  of 
thinking,"  refumed  Mr.  Barnet ;  "  which 
makes  me  very  much  repent  my  not  having 
followed  that  profeffion  myfelf,  according  to 
my  grandmother's  advice." 

Mrs.  Barnet  was  fo  much  dunned  with 
this  obfervation,  that  (he  could  hardly  draw 
her  breath.  Her  hufband  continued  : — 

"  If  I  had  entered  at  the  Temple  when 
my  grandmother  firft  propofed  it,  I  fhould 
have  certainly  been  at  this  moment  Chief 
Juftice  of  the  Common  Pleas,  inftead  of 
the  prefent  Chief  Juftice." 

"  Without 


E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"  Without  difputing  the  probability  of 
the  thing,"  faid  Mr.  Wormwood,  "  I  do 
not  lee  the  abfolute  certainty  of  it,  even  al- 
though you  had  taken  your  grandmother's 
advice." 

Mr.  Wormwood  had  no  fooner  finifhed  his 
obfervation,  than  Mrs.  Barnet  threw  him 
fuch  a  look  of  difapprobation  as  determined 
himtofupprefs  his  farcafmsand  irony  for  the 
reft  of  the  journey  ;  for  he  had  the  higheft 
refpect  for  her,  and  was  unwilling  to  dif- 
oblige  her. 

But  Mr.  Barnet diredlyanfwered,"  I  muft 
of  courfe  have  been  Chief  Juftice  before 
him,  becaufe  he  did  not  enter  as  a  ftudent 
at  any  of  the  Inns  of  Court  until  a  full 
year  after  my  grandmother  propofed  that  I 
fhould." 

Perceiving  figns  of  diftrefs  in  his  wife's 
countenance,  "  I  fee,  my  dear,"  continued 
Mr.  Barnet,  "  that  this  makes  you  uneafy, 
and  therefore  I  am  forry  I  mentioned  it, 
and  will  endeavour  never  to  mention  or 
put  you  in  mind  of  it  again  ;  although  I 
muftconfefs  that  it  is  curfedly  provoking  to 
reflect  that  I  have  loft  fo  good  a  place, 

merely 


EDWARD.  299 

merely  by  a  little  childiih  obftinacy  ;  for  I  am 
told  that  an  exceeding  good  falary  is  annex- 
ed to   the  office  of  Chief  Juftice  ;  and  every 
body  knows  that  a  Judge  has  nothing  to  do 
but  to  fit  on  a  cumion  and  deliver  his  opi- 
nion, which,  be  it  right  or  wrong,  nobody 
dares    contradict ;  befides,  no  fet  of   men 
live  better  than  your  Judges,  as   I  myfelf 
can  atteft,   having   fometimes   dined  with 
them  at  the  aflizes," 

Mrs.  Barnet  being  unable,  arid  Worm- 
wood afraid  to  fpeak,  a  confiderable  filence 
enfued  3  at  length  Barnet  refumed. 

"  Pray,  my  dear,  was  it  not  for  a  public 
oration  that  Edward  obtained  one  of  the 
gold  medals,  when  he  was  at  fchool  ?" 

"  The  laft  he  got,"  replied  Mrs.  Barnet, 
"  was  for  a  Latin  oration,  which  was  much 
admired." 

"  Well,"  refumed  Mr.  Barnet,  "  itjlands 
to  reafan  that  he  could  make  Englifh  ora- 
tions fully  as  well,  and  for  them,  inftead  of 
two  or  three  gold  medals,  he  may  get  two 
or  three  thoufand  golden  guineas,  perhaps, 
in  one  year.*' 

s  "  I  do 


5oo  EDWARD. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,  my 
dear,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  I  mean,"  replied  her  hufband,  "  that 
Edward  had  beft  become  a  lawyer,  and  make 
orations  in  Weftminfter-Hall.  I  am  con- 
vinced he  will  fucceed  every  bit  as  well  as 
Mr.  Garnaby  Shadow,  for  all  Lady  Bab's 
boafting." 

"  I  am  convinced  of  that  alfo,  my  dear," 
faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Then  it  does  not  fignify  talking,"  re- 
joined her  hufband,  "  Edward  fhall  begin 
to  ftudy  the  law  without  more  delay ;  for 
who  knows,  my  dear,  but  that  he  may  ob- 
tain the  promotion  I  miffed,  and  thereby  be 
enabled  to  reimburfe  me  for  all  the  expence 
I  have  been  at  on  his  account." 

Barnet  had  a  fincere  regard  for  Edward  ; 
nobody's  company  gave  him  more  fatis- 
fa&ion,  and  Mrs.  Barnet  found  little  diffi- 
culty in  making  him  advance  all  the  money 
neceflary  for  the  youth's  education  and  ex- 
pences  ;  yet  the  native  meannefs  of  Barnet' s 
mind  was  ever  apt  to  difcover  itfelf,  in  fpite 
of  all  the  pains  his  wife  took  to  give  him  a 

more  generous  way  of  thinking. 

Perceiving 


EDWARD.  301 

Perceiving  that  fhe  blufhed  at  what  he 
had  laft  faid,  he  immediately  added,  "  Do 
not  imagine  that  I  grudge  the  expence  I 
have  been  at  on  Edward's  account;  I  only 
fay,  my  dear,  that  it  would  be  zfatisfaftlon 
if  he  were  in  a  fituation  to  enable  him  to 
fhew  his  gratitude." 

"  It  is  impoflible  to  be  more  grateful  than 
he  is,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  That  I  would  ri{k  my  life  upon,"  added 
Wormwood. 

"  I  do  not  difpute  it,"  rejoined  Barnet ; 
"  though  I  muft  confefs  that  I  have  known 
people  who  profefled  a  vaft  deal  of  gratitude 
as  long  as  they  were  unable  to  make  any 
return  for  the  benefits  they  had  received, 
and  yet  feemed  to  have  very  little  when 
they  had  it  in  their  power  to  repay  them." 

"  I  am  certain  that  our  Edward  is  not  of 
that  difpofition,"  faid  Mrs.  Barnet,  with 
earneftnefs, 

"  I  hope  not,"  replied  her  hufband,  "  and 
I  do  not  think  he  is ;  all  that  I  fay  is,  that  it 
will  be  a  fatlsfaftion  to  me,  and  alfo  to  you,  I 
dare  to  fay,  to  fee  him  repay  the  whole  ex- 
pence  we  have  been,  at  on  his  account,  in- 
cluding 


302  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

eluding  the  lawful  intereft,  becaufe  that 
would  put  his  gratitude  out  of  doubt ; 
and  after  all,  it  would  detract  nothing  from 
my  generofity,  fince  I  could  not  be  pofi- 
tively  certain  when  I  advanced  the  money 
on  his  account,  whether  he  ever  would 
have  the  power  and  inclination  to  repay  me 


or  not." 


I  will  anfwer  for  the  inclination,"  cried 
Mrs.  Barnet. 

"  Truly,  my  dear,"  replied  herhufband, 
"  if.  he  has  not  the  power,  the  inclination  is 
a  mere  matter  of  moonmine ;  for  [which 
realbn,  if  he  never  has  the  one,  I  {hall 
not  trouble  you,  nor  any  body  elfe,  to  be- 
come refponfible  for  the  other." 

When  they  came  home,  Mrs.  Barnet  went 
directly  to  her  own  apartment,  and  left  the 
two  gentlemen  feated  in  the  parlour. 

"  I  mould  be  glad  to  know,  my  good 
friend/'  faid  Wormwood,  "  whether  you  do 
not  feel  very  comfortable,  when  you  reflect 
on  the  fervices  you  have  rendered  to  fo 
fine  a  young  man  as  Edward  ?" 

14  To  be  fure  I  do,"  aiifwered  Barnet ; 

"  I  have  felt  fomething  of  that  nature  almoft 

14  every 


EDWARD.  303 

every  day  fmce  my  wife  firft  brought  him 
to  the  houfe." 

"  Perhaps  you  have  had  nearly  as  much 
fatisfaction  in  fuch  reflections,  as  in  the  re- 
colle£tion  of  the  mod  magnificent  dinner 
you  ever  gave  ?" 

"  A  great  deal  more,"  replied  Barnet ; 
"  for  I  recollect  having  given  magnificent 
dinners  to  people  I  hate." 

"  Poffibly,"  continued  Wormwood,  "  the 
reflections  I  allude  to  have  been  as  com- 
fortable to  you  as  even  the  befl  dinner  you  • 
ever  eat  yourfelf." 

"  I  cannot  fay  quite  fo  much  as  that,"  re- 
plied Barnet ;  "  becaufe  nothing  can  be  fo 
comfortableas  a  good  dinner  while  one  is 
eating  it ;  though  it  fometimes  lies  a  little 
heavy  on  the  ftomach  after  it  is  over ; 
whereas  the  reflections  you  mention  makes 
one's  heart  the  eafier  and  lighter  the  longer 
they  continue.'* 

"  The  wifeft  thing  we  can  do  then,  my 
friend,"  faid  Wormwood,  "  is,  to  lay  in 
{lore  that  kind  of  nourishment  which  ^is 
the  moftpleafant  of  digeftion." 

Edward 


304  EDWARD. 

Edward  himfelf  had,  like  moft  youths  at 
a  certain  age,  an  inclination  for  the  army, 
and  had  given  Mrs.  Barnet  fome  hints  to 
that  purpofe  ;  but  fhe  being  averfe  to  that 
plan,  did  not  encourage  it,  and  he  loft  hopes 
of  it  fo  much,  that  when  the  fcheme  of  his 
ftudying  law  was  propofed  to  him,  as  the 
moft  agreeable  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barnet,  he 
exprefled  no  reludtance,  although  he  was  by 
no  means  fond  of  the  profeflion. 


EDWARD,  305 


CHAP.     XXXL 

Virtue  may  be  affail'd,  but  never  hurt  ; 
Surpriz'd  by  unjuft  force,  but  not  enthrall'd; 
Yea  even  that  which  mifchief  meant  moft  harm, 
Shall  in  the  happy  trial  prove  moft  glory;     ; 
But  evil  on  itfelf  jhall  back  recoil. 

, If  this  fail, 

The  pillar'd  firmament  is  rottennefs, 

And  earth's  bafe  built  on  ftubble.  MILTON. 

AN  occurrence  took  place  a  little  before 
this  period,  which  did  much  honour  to 
Edward. 

He  had  been  long  fond  of  the  exercife  of 
fkating,  in  which,  as  in  moft  others,  he  dif- 
played  uncommon  addrefs.     While  he  was 
indulging  himfelf  in  this  amufement,  with 
many  others,  the  ice  broke  under  one  young 
man  at  a  place  where  the  water  was  deep 
enough   to   have  drowned    him ;  all    who 
were   near  him   fled    immediately   to   the 
fhore.     Edward,  at  fome  diftance,  and  with 
the  graceful  rapidity  of  the  feathered  mer- 
VOL.  i.  X  cury, 


£  D  W  A  R  D. 

cury,  was  gliding  over  the  furface  when  he 
faw  the  confufion,  and  heard  an  exclama- 
tion, that  young  Lord  Fillagree  would  cer- 
tainly be  drowned.  He  immediately  checked 
his  courfe,  and  then  moved    towards   the 
youth,  whom  he  beheld  holding  by  the  edge 
of  the  ice,  and  ftruggling  to  extricate  him- 
felf ;  but  as  often  as  he  made  an  effort  to 
get  out  of  the  water,  the  ice  broke,  and  he 
again  fell  in. — Several    who  obferved   Ed- 
ward's intention  called  to  him  not  to  pro- 
ceed, for  if  he  did,  he  could  only  lofe  his 
own  life,  without  faving  the  other's.     Not- 
withftanding  this  prudent  advice,  he  per- 
fifted  in  advancing  towards  the  young  man, 
who  defpairing  of  the  fuccefs  of  his  own 
efforts,  kept  his  hands  and  arms  above  the 
found  part  of  the  ice,  and  cried  loudly  and 
incefTantly  for  affiftance.     As  Edward  ap- 
proached, he  begged  him  to  be  filent,  and 
then   holding     his    handkerchief    by    one 
corner,  he   threw   the    other  to    Fillagree, 
at  the  fame  time  extending  his  arm  to  the 
utmoft,  that  he  might  keep  the  weight  of 
his  own  body  as  far  as  poflible  from  the 
broken  part  of  the  ice,  and  that  the  found 

might 


EDWARD.  307 

might  have  the  better  chance"  of  fuftaining 
the  youth  when  he  fhould  get  upon  it. — At 
that  inftant  a  failor,  who  had   not  before 
been  on  the  ice,  but  viewed  the  fcene  from 
the   fhore,   ran    towards    Edward,    calling 
"  avaft,  avaft,  brother  ;  the  fliders  on  which 
you  ftand  have  no  hold  j  that  fqualling  lub* 
her  is  more  likely  to  drag  you  to  the  bottom 
than  you  to  heave  him  above  board^  or  tow 
him  afhore ;    catch  faft  hold   of  this   here 
with  your  larboard  hand.'*     So  faying,  he 
jerked  the  end  of  a  piece  of  rope  to  Edward, 
while  he  himfelf  flood  firm  on  the  ice,  hold- 
ing the  other  end,     "  Now,  boys,  bear  & 
haiuV'  cried  he  ;   "  hilloa,  pull  away."     It 
now    appeared     that     the     weakeft     parts 
of    the  ice  had  been   already  broken    by 
the    repeated     exertions     of    the     young 
Lord  ;   for  when  by  a   new  effort  he  got 
above    the   ice  it  did   not  give  way;    and 
holding  by  the  end  of  the  handkerchief,  he 
was  pulled  to  a  fafe  part  of  the  ice  by  Evi- 
len  and  the  failor. — The  latter,   after  con- 
templating the  young  Lord  with  a  look  cf 
contempt,  faid,  "  Zounds,  what  afqualling, 
you  did  make,  friend;    d— n  me  if  I  have 
X  2  not 


308  EDWARD. 

not  feen  a  whole  fhip's  crew  go  to  the  bot- 
tom with  lefs  noife  than  came  from  your 
{ingle  jaw-port." 

Edward  could  not  help  laughing  at  this 
fpeech  of  the  failor.  Whether  it  was  the 
fhivering  condition  in  which  Lord  Fillagree 
was  that  deprived  him  of  recollection,  or 
his  being  offended  at  the  failor' s  fpeech  and 
Edward's  laughing,  cannot  be  known,  but 
he  certainly  went  away  with  all  the  expe- 
dition he  could,  and  without  faying  a  word 
to  either. 

Edward  then,  fhaking  the  failor  by  the 
hand,  offered  him  a  guinea  for  his  afliftance 
in  faving  the  young  Lord  from  being 
drowned. 

"  He  is  not  worth  the  money,  by 
G— d,"  faid  the  failor. 

Edward  begged  him  to  take  it. 
"  Well,  fmce  you  infift  upon  it,  matter, 
I'll  accept  of  your  guinea,"    refumed  the 
failor  ;   "  but  on  my  confcience  you  have  a 
hard  bargain." 

Lord  Fillagree  went  abroad  foon  after, 
without  waiting  on   Edward,  or  ever  ex- 
any  fenfe  of  obligation. 

At 


EDWARD.  309 

At  that  time  Edward  was  involved  in  a, 
fpecies  of  diftrefs  which  he  had  hitherto 
been  unacquainted  with.  A  young  man 
happened  to  be  prefent  when  he  received  a 
remittance  from  Mrs.  Barnet  to  clear  off  his 
year's  accounts,  and  fupply  him  with  mo- 
ney for  the  immediate  exigencies  of  the  pre- 
fent term.  This  youth  earaeflly  applied  to 
Edward  for  the  ufe  of  the  whole,  on  a 
plaufible  pretext,  and  with  the  ftrongeft 
aflurances  of  repaying  it  within  a  certain 
time.  Edward  relying  upon  this,  entrufted 
him  with  the  whole  ;  but  two  days  be- 
fore the  term  of  repayment,  the  borrower 
left  the  Univerfity  in  many  people's  debt. 
This  event  afflicted  Edward  very  •  much. 
Several  tradefmen  had  given  in  their  ac- 
counts, with  intimation,  that  they  were 
in  great  need  of  the  money.  When  he 
reflected  on  the  generofity  which  Mrs. 
Barnet  had  always  (hewn  in  regulating 
his  allowance,  it  augmented  his  diftrefs ; 
he  felt  the  greateft  reluctance  from  commu- 
nicating this  affair  to  her  j  he  would  have 
applied  with  lefs  uneafmefs  to  Clifton,  but 
X  on 


5io  EDWARD. 

on  his  firft  going  to  the  Univerfity,  fhe  had 
advifed  him  never  to  borrow  money  from 
his  fellow-ftudents.  Befides,  Clifton  had 
been  for  fome  time  at  the  houfe  of  the  Earl 
of  Frankvil,  to  whom  he  was  related.  As 
Oxford  was  on  the  road  between  this  noble- 
man's houfe  and  the  capital,  he  always  fent 
for  Clifton  as  he  patted,  arid  the  youth  had 
prefented  Edward  to  him  ;  in  confequence 
of  which,  and  of  the  ftile  in  which  Clifton 
fpoke  of  his  companion,  Edward  had  bee?i 
invited  with  Clifton  to  Frankvil-houfe.  This 
invitation  he  had  declined. 

When  Clifton  returned,  he  a  flu  red  Ed- 
ward that  he  was  a  prodigious  favourite 
with  the  Earf,  who  had  heard  of  his  adven- 
ture with  Lord  Fillagree.  "  Notwithstanding 
his  regret  that  the  puppy  was  not  drowned," 
added  Qifton,  "  the  Earl  admires  your  con- 
duel;  exceedingly,  and  he  told  me  in  exprefs 
terms  that  I  fhould  not  be  a  welcome  gueft 
at  Frankvil-houfe,  unlefs  I  took  you  with 
me  ;  and  repeatedly  in  the  hearing  of  a 
pretty  numerous  company  expreffed  a 
ftrong  inclination  to  ferve  you;  and  what 

he 


EDWARD.  311 

he  exprefled  I  am  fure  he  fihcerely  wimes 
to  have  an  opportunity  of  performing,  for 
he  is  in  all  refpe&s  a  man  of  honour." 

While  the  two  friends  were  talking  on 
this  fubject,  a  letter  was  delivered  to  Ed- 
ward. He  &ewed  marks  of  indignation 
while  he  read  it. 

"  That  epiftle  does  not  feem  of  an  agree- 
able tenor,"  faid  Clifton. 

*'  Yet  it  relates  to  Lord  Frankvil  and  you," 
replied  Edward,  handing  him  the  letter — • 
which  Clifton  read  as  follows : 

"SlR, 

"  This  will  inform  you  that  the  living- of 
.  i  is  juft  become  vacant ;  it  is  in  the 

gift  of  the  Earl  of  Frankvil.  The  writer  here- 
of is  willing  to  pay  into  your  hands  the 
ium  of  500!.  provided  you  will  ufe  all  your 
influence  with  his  Lordmip  to  beftow  that 
living  on  a  certain  clergyman  of  great  piety 
uad  learning,  who  will  be  mentioned  to 
you.  You  mall  have  fecurity,  I  fay,  that 
jcol.  will  be  paid  to  you  upon  the  above 
clergyman  being  appointed  to  the  living; 
and  200!.  mall  be  advanced  to  you  imme- 
diately, provided  you  make  an  earneft  ap- 
x  4  plication 


312  EDWARD. 

plication  for  this  purpofe,  and  engage  his 
Lordmip's  relation,  the  Honourable  Mr. 
Clifton,  to  join  in  the  fame. 

"  If  you  approve  of  this,  direct  a  line  to 

A.  B.  at  the coffee -houfe,   to  be  left 

till  called  for.  Mention  where  and  when 
you  can  be  fpoken  with  by  a  friend  of  the 
writer  of  this.  Secrecy  and  honour  may 
be  relied  on." 

"  I  am  fure  that  I  have  feen  this  man's 
writing  before,"  faid  Clifton,  when  he  had 
finifhed  ;  and  I  have  a  very  ftrong  fufpicion 
that  this  pious  epiftle  is  the  production  of  a 
certain  obfequious  gentleman  who  only  left 
this  Univerfity  laft  year.  I  forget  his  name ; 
he  who  made  up  fo  much  to  me,  and  whom 
you  may  remember  I  could  never  endure. 
On  fame  pretence  or  other,  however,  he 
called  on  Lord  Frankvil,  and  was  kept  to 
dinner  on  the  very  day  when  his  Lordfhip 
exprefTed  fo  much  regard  for  you.  He 
ought  to  be  expofed." 

"  The  real  writer  of  this  letter  deferves 
to  be  expofed,"  replied  Edward  ;  "  but  as 
by  making  any  noife  on  this  fubjedt  we 

rifk 


EDWARD.  3I3 

rifk  throwing  a  fufpicion  on  a  man  who 
perhaps  is  incapable  of  fuch  bafenefs,  this 
is  the  beft  way  of  difpofmg  of  it."  So 
faying,  he  took  up  the  letter  and  threw  it 
in  the  fire. 

"  Well,"  faid  Clifton ;  «  but  might  not 
fome  good  be  extracted  from  this  informa- 
tion ?  Have  you  no  friend  whom  you 
might  recommend  to  his  Lordmip  on  this 
occafion  ?" 

"  I  have  no  right  to  think  that  his  Lord- 
(hip  would  mind  my  recommendation ;  but 
I  have  a  friend  to  whom  I  lie  under  the 
ftrongeft  of  all  obligations.  I  would  go  to 
the  Indies  to  ferve  him  ;  he  is  a  man  who 
would  do  honour  to  any  patronage." 

"  You  mean  Mr.  Temple,"  faid  Clifton. 

"  I  certainly  do,"  replied  Edward  ;  "  and 
you  cannot  conceive  what  a  pleafure  you 
would  do  me  by  applying  to  my  Lord 
for " 

"  I  will  do  what  you  pleafe,"  replied 
Clifton ;  "  but  can  tell  you  beforehand, 
that  his  Lordmip  will  not  have  the  fmalleft 
fcruple  or  ceremony  in  refufmg  me ;  where- 
as, 


3H  EDWARD. 

as,  if  you  make  the  application,  in  the  hu- 
mour he  is  in,  I  do  believe  you  have  a  great 
chance  of  fucceeding." 

Edward,  however,  flill  thought  he  could 
not  with  propriety  addrefs  my  Lord  on  fuch 
a  fubjedt;  but  he  at  laft  agreed,  on  condi-* 
tion  that  Clifton  would  join  him  in  the  ap- 
plication. No  anfwer  came  from  his  Lord- 
fhip  for  three  weeks,  and  Edward  was 
uneafy  in  the  thoughts  of  having  yielded  to 
his  friend's  importunity.  At  length  Clifton 
received  a  letter  from  Lord  Fraqkvil  in  the 
following  terms; 

"  There  are  many  things  in  which  your 
opinion,  my  dear  Jack,  would  have  great 
vreight  with  me ;  but  I  confefs  that  in 
choofing  a  clergyman  I  mould  not  have 
thought  of  afking  it.  When  I  exprefTed  a 
defire  of  ferving  your  friend  Edward,  I 
literally  meant  himfelf,  and  not  another  at 
his  recommendation ;  however,  in  confe- 
quenceof  your  conjunct  letter,  I  have  made 
inquiry  refpeding  Mr.  Temple,  of  whom  I 
have  received  fo  excellent  a  character,  that 
I  fhall  write  to  him  in  a  few  days  to  inform 

him 


EDWARD.  .,,£ 

him  of  his  appointment.  As  I  now  con- 
fider  the  recommending  of  fuch  a  man  as  a 
fervice  done  to  myfelf,  you  will  inform 
Edward  that  my  inclination  to  be  of  fervice 
to  him  is  increafed  by  this  appointment. 

"  Yours,  very  fincerely, 

"  FRANKVIL." 

A  very  fhort  time  after  this  letter  had 
been  read  to  Edward,  he  took  poft  for 
Frankvil-houfe,  to  thank  the  Earl  for  fo 
great  a  mark  of  regard  ;  and  at  the  fame 
time  to  beg  of  his  Lordmip  to  conceal  from, 
Mr.  Temple  whatever  part  Edward  himfelf 
had  taken  in  the  bufniefs, 

"  Why  fhould  you  preclude  him  from  the 
pleafure  of  knowing  who  are  his  friends  ?" 
faid  the  noble  Lord. 

<c  He  knows  very  well,"  replied  Edward, 
"  that  it  is  the  pride  of  my  life  to  be  con- 
fidered  as  his  friend ;  but  I  have  a  ftrong 
reafon  for  wifhing  that  he  fhould  not  know 
that  I  ever  prefumed  to  mention  him  to 
your  Lordfhip." 

The 


316  EDWARD. 

The  noble  Lord  then  aflured  him  that  it 
fliould  be  as  he  defired. 

Edward's  reafon  was  founded  on  an  idea 
that  Mr.  Temple  might  be  a  little  hurt  in 
having  it  believed  that  he  was  indebted  for 
this  piece  of  good  fortune  to  the  recommend- 
ation of  an  obfcure  youth ;  and  that  it 
would  afford  him  fatisfa&ion  to  think  he 
derived  it  from  the  influence  of  his  own 
reputation  on  the  mind  of  the  Earl. 


EDWARD.  317 


CHAP.     XXXII. 

Dullnefs  with  tranfport  eyes  the  lively  dunce, 
Rememb'ring  fhe  herfelf  was  pertnefs  once. 

POPE. 

CJIR  Mathew  Maukifh  and  his  Lady  con- 
tinued to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barnet  with  the  greateft  affi- 
duity  ;  it  was  more  difficult  for  her  Lady- 
fhip  to  fucceed  with  Mrs.  Barnet  than 
for  Sir  Mathew  to  gain  on  the  mind  of  her 
hufband.  What  rendered  Lady  Maukilh's 
company  more  agreeable,  however,  than  it 
otherwife  would  have  been  to  Mrs.  Bar- 
net,  was  the  favourable  manner  fhe  always 
fpoke  of  Edward,  who  had  now  left  the 
Univerfity,  and  had  chambers  in  the  Terri- 
ple.  He  pafled  moft  of  the  recefs  at  Mr. 
XBarnet's  houfe  in  the  country,  and  Lady 
Maukifli's  vifits  were  more  frequent  while 
he  was  there  than  at  other  times.  Her  La- 
dyfhip  often  recommended  to  the  youth  to 
cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  her  fon,  who, 
7  from 


5i8  EDWARD, 

from  his  fuperior  knowledge  and  experi* 
ence,  fhe  obeferved,  would  be  an  ufeful  ad* 
vifer  to  a  young  man  juft  beginning  the  ftudy 
of  law  ;  and  to  Mr.  Barnet  fhe  hinted,  that 
Carnaby's  talents  and  connections  would 
fpeedily  raife  him  to  fituations  in  which  he 
might  be  of  great  ufe  to  Edward.  She 
exprefled,  however,  fome  regret  that  her 
fon  had  unfortunately  neglected  being  called 
to  the  bar,  which  he  was  entitled  to  have 
been  at  the  preceding  term,  and  enjoined 
Edward  to  put  him  in  mind,  when  he  re- 
turned to  town,  to  take  the  neceflary  fteps 
for  that  purpofe  at  the  enfuing  one. 

When  Edward  returned  to  London,  he 
called  one  day  on  his  friend  Clifton,  with 
whom  he  found  Mr.  Carnaby  Shadow, 
who  immediately  propofed  that  they  fhould 
dine  together  at  a  tavern  ;  Clifton  readily 
aflented  ;  and  Carnaby  faid,  that  as  he  was 
on  his  way  to  Hyde-Park,  he  fhould  order 
dinner  at  the  tavern  as  he  pafled.  He  then 
left  them,  and  mounted  his  horfe,  which 
was  at  the  door,  and  which  being  a  new 
15  purchafe, 


EDWARD.  319 

purchafe,  be  was  impatient  to  exhibit  in  the 
ftreets  and  in  the  Park. 

"  What  an  eafy  tempered  good-natured 
fellow  he  is,"  faid  Edward. 

"  But  wonderfully  infipid  in  a  morn- 
ing," faid  Clifton. 

"  I  obferve  that  you  are  more  apt  to  pufh 
the  bottle  when  he  is  in  company,  than  at 
other  times,"  faid  Edward  ;  "  you  are  never 
at  reft  till  you  get  him  half  tipfy." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Clifton  ;  "and  don't 
you  know  the  reafon  ?" 

"  I  cannot  fay  I  do,5'  anfwered  Edward. 

"  Becaufe,"  faid  Clifton,  "  fmall-beer, 
when  brifk  and  frothy,  is  fometimes  agree- 
able enough  ;  but  when  flat,  there  is  no 
fwallowing  it." 

When  they  met  at  dinner,  and  when  Mr. 
Shadow  had  attained  what  Clifton  thought, 
his  moft  amufmg  point,  Edward,  recollect- 
ing Lady  Bab's  injunction,  told  him,  that 
his  mother  was  impatient  for  his  appearance 
at  the  bar  as  a  Counfellor. 

"  To  tell  you  a  fecret,"  faid  Carnaby,  "  I 
would  juft  as  foon  appear  at  the  bar  as  a 
prifoner.' T 

"  That 


320  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"That  is  a  fecret,  which  I  confefs  I 
fhould  not  have  expeded  from  one  of  the 
profeflion  you  have  chofen." 

"  D — n  the  profeffion  !"  cried  Carnaby; 
"  it  was  none  of  my  choofmg ;  I  hate  it 
mortally." 

"  What  reafon  can  you  have  for  fo  ftrong 
an  averfion  ?" 

"  What  reafon !  What  reafon  !"  repeated 
Carnaby  ;  "  a  very  good,  a  very  folid  rea- 
fon." 

"  That  I  mould  expe£t,  of  courfe,"  faid 
Edward. 

"  Clearly,"  added  Clifton,  "  as  it  has  fo 
much  weight  with  you  !  but,  after  all,  on 
what  is  it  founded  ?" 

"  On  what  is  it  founded  !"  exclaimed 
Carnaby ;  "  why  on  thofe  curfed  eternal 
periwigs  which  Counfellors  are  obliged  to 
wear  in  all  weathers,  when  they  appear  at  the 
bar ;  no  confideration  on  earth  could  pre- 
vail on  me  to  make  myfelf  look  fo  like  a 
gigg  j  and  if  I  were  willing,  I  don't  believe 
my  head  could  fupport  one  of  thofe  hideous 
periwigs  for  an  hour  together." 

"You 


EDWARD.  -2i 

o 

«'  You  think  then,"  faicl  Clifton,  "  that  to 
be  a  lawyer  it  is  neceflary  to  hare  a  very 
ftrong  head." 

"  Whatever  is  necefTary,  my  averfion  to 
thofe  d — d  periwigs  is  unfurmountable." 

"  That  is  unlucky,"  faid  Edward,  "  con- 
fidenng  what  Lady  Maukifh  has  in  view  for 
you.'* 

"  True,"  cried  Clifton  ;  "  for  if  you 
boggle  fo  much  at  the  tie-wig  of  a  fimple 
counfellor,  how  could  you  fupport  that 
enormous  weight  of  periwig  which  the 
head  of  every  Chancellor  of  Great  Britain 
is  doomed  to  bear  ?" 

"  They  ihall  doom  my  head  to  the  block 
fooner,"  replied  Carnaby. 

"  Only  imagine,"  rejoined  Clifton,  "  to 
be  awfully  feated  on  a  wool-pack,  during 
a  whole  feffion  of  parliament." 

"  Dreadful !"  cried  Carnaby. 

<c  Seffions  after  feffions,"  added  Clifton. 

*c  Shocking!  mocking  !"  exclaimed  Car- 
naby. 

"  Not  to  mention  the  chance  of  a  trial 
by  impeachment  at  Weftminfter-Hall,"  laid 
Edward. 

VOL.  i.  Y  ic  Name 


322  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

<l  Name  it  not,"  cried  Carnaby. 
"  There  obliged  to  remain,"  continued 
Edward,  tl  from  winter  to  midfummer,  in 
fight  of  all  manner  of  perfons^  hearing  exa- 
minations and  crofs-examinations,  fpeeches 
and  replies,  fufficient  to  confound  the 
cleared  head  in  Chriftendom,  even  although 
it  were  not  buried  in  a  voluminous  mafs  of 
horfe-hair." 

"  Fogh  !  Fogh !"  cried  Carnaby. 
"  He  is  almoft  choaked  with  the  bare 
idea,"  faid  Clifton. 

"  Eh  gad,  and  fo  I  am!"  refumed  Car- 
naby ;  "  and  rather  than  be  fuffocated  in 
that  lingering  manner,  I  would  choofe  to  be 
buried  at  once  in  my  cool  grave." 

"  This,  however,  is  fuppofing  the  word 
that  could  happen,"  refumed  Edward ;  "  for 
even  if  you  were  to  proceed  in  the  profeflion 
of  a  lawyer,  you  might  poffibly  efcape 
being  buried  alive  in  a  Chancellor's  wig  ;  at 
all  events  I  think  you  ought  to  make  an 
effort  to  pleafe  your  mother,  by  appearing, 
for  once  at  lead,  in  the  wig  of  a  Coun- 
fcllor." 

"  Curfc 


EDWARD.  323 

"  Curfe  efforts,"  cried  Carnaby  ;  "  I  al- 
ways detefted  them,  and  never  could  make 
one  in  my  life." 

"  Forgive  me,"  faid  Edward  ;  "  I  think 
I  could  put  you  in  mind  of  a  very  vigorous 
effort,  which  Mr.  Clifton  and  I  were  wit- 
neffes  to  your  making  of  your  own  ac- 
cord." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,"  faid 
Carnaby. 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Clifton. 

"  Do  you  not  remember,"  refumed  Ed- 
ward, "  our  calling  one  morning  at  your 
chambers,  when  we  found  you  ftruggling, 
with  all  your  might,  to  fqueeze  yourfelf 
into  a  new  pair  of  buckfkin  breeches? 
I  am  fure  I  fhall  never  forget  the  ftrenuous 
efforts  you  made  on  that  occafion." 

"  Ay,  on  that  occafion,  you  {hewed  your- 
felf capable  of  the  moft  laudable  exertions," 
rejoined  Clifton. 

"  The  moft  pains-taking  man  on  earth 
could  not  have  pufhed  more  earneftly  to 
gain  a  livelihood  for  himfelf  and  family," 
added  Edward,  "  than  you  did  to  carry 
your  point  on  that  occafion." 

Y  2  "  Yes," 


E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Carnaby ;  "  but  that  was 
a  different  affair." 

"  It  muft  be  confefled,"  added  Clifton, 
"  that  ftudying  law  is  one  thing,  and  pulling 
on  a  pair  of 'breeches  is  another.'* 

"Affuredly,"  refumed  Edward;  "  for 
many  people  drop  the  one,  who  wifh  to 
wear  the  other  all  their  lives." 

"  What  I  meant  to  fay,"  replied  Carnaby, 
"  was,  that  ftudying  the  law  is  a  bore,  and 
difturbs  ones  head  ;  whereas — 

"  Tight  breeches,"  faid  Clifton,  "  pinch 
elfewhere." 

"  I  remember,  however,"  rejoined  Car- 
naby, <f  that  on  the  occafion  you  allude  to, 
I  was  very  much  puzzled  whether  to  pro- 
ceed or  draw  back." 

"  Like  Macbeth,  you  recollected,"  faid 
Edward,  "  that 

• fhould  you  wade  no  more, 

Returning  were  as  tedious  as  go  o'er.0 


EDWARD.  325 

CHAP.     XXXIII. 
Dangerous  Connexions. 

the  time  that  Edward  left  the  Uni- 
fity  he  had  been  principally  intent  on 
the  ftudy  of  hiftory,  the  nature  of  govern- 
ment, the  fpirit  of  laws  in  general,  and 
other  kinds  of  knowledge  which  are  rather 
preparatory  to,  than  forming  a  part  of  the 
bufmefs  of  a  lawyer. 

His  mind  being  delighted  with  thefe 
ftudies,  he  purfued  them  with  eagernefs  and 
fuccefs. 

But  when  he  came  to  apply,  faimfelf  to 
the  ftudy  of  the  municipal  law,  and  the 
forms  of  the  Courts,  he  found  it  more 
laborious,  becaufe  lefs  entertaining,  and  he 
was  the  more  readily  led  into  diffipation. 
No  young  man  could  have  more  natural  eafe 
and  lefs  affected  wifdom ;  his  diflike  of 
formality  and  referve  was  fometimes  made 
ufe  of  by  his  young  companions,  as  a  means 
Y  3  to 


326  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

to  feduce  him  to  be  of  their  parties.  In 
general,  his  good  fenfe  and  fleadinefs  ena- 
bled him  to  reject  their  propofals,  except 
when  they  were  fupported  by  his  friend 
Clifton,  whofe  fondnefs  for  humour  made 
him  find  entertainment  in  the  ridicule  as 
well  as  the  talents  of  thofe  with  whom  he 
kept  company.  As  Edward  feldom  could  refift 
the  importunities  of  Clifton,  he  fometimes 
had  caufe  to  repent  the  exceffes  into  which 
he  was  led,  the  effeds  of  which  generally 
extended  a  day  or  two  beyond  that  in  which 
they  were  committed ;  fo  that  one  night, 
difagreeably  fpent  with  Carnaby  and  his 
companions,  generally  loft  two  days  ftudv; 
to  Edward. 

Among  Carnaby's  mofl  intimate  com- 
panions, one  was  devoted  to  the  bottle, 
another  to  play  ;  the  firft,  whofe  name  was 
Myrtle,  had  early  in  life  lived  two  years 
with  a  relation  in  the  country,  who  being 
an  habitual  drunkard,  had  gradually  feduced 
him  into  frequent  intoxication.  This 
young  man  had  once  promifed  better  things. 
At  the  time  on  which  he  firft  went  to  refide 
this  unfortunate  relation,  he  was  of  an 

aftive 


EDWARD.  327 

active  temper,  of  a  moft  obliging  difpofi- 
tion,  a  lover  of  fincerity,  with  great  natural 
quicknefs,  fome  defire  of  fame, — the  moft 
blefled  of  all  difpofitions  for  a  man  of  for- 
tune ;  becaufe  it  is  the  fource  of  improve- 
ment, arid  the  beft  prefervative  againft  that 
rniferable  bane  of  men  of  fortune,  ennui.  Of 
all  the  contrivances  to  exclude  this  intruding 
demon  from  the  mind  of  man,  the  moft 
debafmg  and  deftrudive  is,  the  ufe  of  in- 
toxicating liquors ;  that  pernicious  habit 
blunts  all  defire  of  improvement,  deadens 
emulation,  obfcures  the  underftanding,  finks 
the  foul  into  iluggilhnefs,  renders  men  in- 
fenfible  to  the  love  of  reputation,  familia- 
rizes them  with  the  idea  of  contempt,  and 
extinguifties  every  enjoyment  but  that 
maudlin  delirium  excited  by  fpirituous  li- 
quors, which  foon  hurries  them  to  their 
graves. 

Poor  Myrtle  was  advancing  to  this  de- 
plorable ftate  ;  he  rofe  every  morning  with 
a  confufed  head  and  heart,  filled  with  re- 
morfe  ;  his  nerves  unftrung,  and  his  temper 
unfupportable.  For  thofe  complaints  he 
fought  a  cure  in  the  very  fource  of  his  dif- 
Y4  eafe; 


328  EDWARD. 

eafe  5     and    did    not    recover  any    degree 
of  eafe    and   good  humour    until    he    had 
lodged  a  confiderable  quantity  of  flrong  li- 
quor  in  his  ftomach  :   this  proved  a  moft 
treacherous    palliative  ;     all    his    ailments 
recurring  with  augmented  force  the    fuc- 
ceeding  day,    and   requiring    an    increafed 
dole  to  alleviate  them.     The  only  comfort- 
able part  of  his  life,  therefore,  (if  any  part 
of  fuch  a  life  could  be  called  comfortable,) 
began  fome  time  after  dinner  ;  as  for  the 
dinner  itfelf  it  afforded  him  none,  fo  com- 
pletely was  his  appetite  deftroyed  ;  but  after 
a  certain  number  of  glailes,  his  ill-humour 
gradually  diminimed,  and  as  the  bottle  con- 
tinued to  circulate,  he  advanced  in  cheer- 
fulnefs  to  a  certain  point,  at  which  his  ideas 
from  gay  became  confufed,  acquiring  every 
moment  more  and  more  obfcurity,  until  he 
was  carried,  in  a  ftate  of  ftupor,  to  bed. 

Having  thus  perverted  the  faculties  of  the 
youth's  mind,  and  blunted  all  his  powers  of 
enjoyment,  his  obliging  relation  died,  and 
left  him  a  large  eftate  to  enjoy ;  and  the 
young  man  was  often  quoted  as  one  of  the 
moft  fortunate  men  m  the  kingdom. 

Mr. 


EDWARD.  329 

Mr.  Shuffle  was  Carnaby's  other  compa- 
nion. He  in  reality  hated  wine,  although 
he  fometimes  affected  a  great  difpofition  for 
jolity  ;  he  then  promoted  drinking,  while, 
with  all  the  addrefs  he  was  matter  of,  he 
patted  the  bottle,  and  often  afiumed  the  ap- 
pearance of  being  fluttered  when  his  fenfes 
were  quite  clear,  which  appeared  as  foon 
as  the  cards  or  dice  were  introduced  ;  but  if 
Uy  any  accident,  in  fpite  of  his  caution  and 
addrefs,  he  felt  his  memory  or  prefence  of 
mind  difturbed,  no  intreaty  could  prevail  ga 
Jjim  to  play. 


350  E  D  Vv  A  R  D. 


CHAP.     XXXIV. 

Nil  habet  infelix  paupertns  durius  in  fe, 
Quam  quod  ridiculos  ho;nines  facit. 

JUVEN. 

.  O.rnaby  Shadow  was  a  lofer  by  both 
his  companions;  one  injured  his 
health,  the  other  his  purfe.  Although  he 
had  no  tafte  for  wine,  and  difliked  gaming, 
he  was  in  danger  of  falling  a  facrihce  to 
both,  from  a  weaknefs  he  had  in  common 
with  many  better  men;  namely,  an  inability 
of  refifting  felicitation.  Had  Mr.  Myrtle 
and  Mr.  ShurBe  been  men  of"  rank,  or 
greatly  diftinguifhed  as  men  of  famion-, 
Carnaby  would  infallibly  have  become  a 
drunkard  or  a  gamefter ;  but  as  they  were 
neither,  he  never  thought  of  them  when, 
they  were  out  of  his  fight,  and  never  fell 
into  their  peculiar  vices  but  from  their  im- 
portunity. Carnaby  had  another  weaknefs 
of  a  lefs  dangerous,  but  a  more  ridiculous 

nature ; 


EDWARD.  331 

nature  ;  that  of  imitating  the  drefs  and  pe- 
culiarities of  every  famionable  man  with 
whom  he  was  acquainted.  If  he  happened 
to  pafs  a  fhort  time  with  a  perfon  of  this 
defcription  who  fpoke  quick,  Carnaby's 
words  were  obferved  foon  after  to  flow 
more  rapidly  than  ufual  ;  and  this  increafed 
velocity  continued  until  he  met  with  a 
more  diftinguimed  perfon  who  fpoke  flow  ; 
but  if  that  perfon  was  abfolutely  a  ftutterer, 
Garnaby  was  obferved  to  take  as  much  pains 
to  check  certain  words,  as  his  noble  model 
did  to  pronounce  them.  He  was  at  one 
time  feized  with  a  convulfive  (hake  of  his 
head,  which  lafted  near  two  months  ;  at 
another  he  feemed  to  be  almoft  deaf,  and 
was  not  cured  of  the  affectation  till  a  cer- 
tain noble  Lord  had  quite  recovered  his 
hearing.  Carnaby  had  always  {hewn  a 
partiality  for  red  wines ;  but  on  hearing  a 
noble  Duke  declare  that  he  preferred  white, 
Mr.  Shadow,  for  a  confiderable  fpace  of 
time,  confined  himfelf  to  Sherry  and  Cham- 
pagne. Thefe  ridicule?,  joined  to  his  ex- 
ceffive  good  nature,  rendered  his  company 
highly  amufing  to  Mr.  GHfton,  whofe  en- 
joyment 


3.52  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

joyment  was  greatly  -increafed  when  he 
could  pcrfuadc  Edward  to  partake  in  it. 
On  one  occafion,  Carriaby  having  engaged 
Mr.  Clifton  to  accompany  him  to  certain 
races,  the  latter  prevailed  on  Edward  to  be 
erf  the  party.  The  day  after  the  three 
young  gentlemen  had  fet  out,  Mr.  Shuffle 
called  at  Carnaby's  lodgings,  and  under- 
Handing  from  the  fervant  that  on  their  re- 
turn from  the  races  they  intended  to  dine 
at  a  particular  inn  on  the  road,  at  no  great 
diftance  from  town,  he  formed  the  defign 
of  meeting  them  there.  Without  explain- 
ing his  intentions  to  Mr.  Myrtle,  he  per- 
fuaded  him  to  accompany  him  in  a  vifit  to 
an  acquaintance  of  both,  who  had  a  houfe 
near  the  fame  road,  but  feveral  miles  farther 
from  town  than  the  inn  in  queftion.  Mr. 
Shuffle's  fcheme  was  to  meet  the  three 
youths  at  the  inn,  and  to  engage  them  in 
play  after  dinner,  when  Myrtle  ihould  have 
warmed  them  with  wine. 

When  Mr.  Shuffle  and  Myrtle  arrived  at 
the  inn,  they  faw  Edward  and  Carnaby 
(landing  in  the  court.  The  latter  told  them 
they  had  juft  arrivecj;  that  Clifton  had  left 

them 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  33} 

them  immediately  after  the  races  to  vifit  a 
relation,  but  they  expected  two  other  gen- 
tlemen, for  whom  they  had  ordered  dinner, 
and  that  he  hoped  Mefirs.  Shuffle  and  Myr- 
tle would  be  of  the  party.  Although 
Shuffle  was  difappointed  when  he  heard 
that  Clifton  was  not  to  come,  he  exprefled 
much  joy  at  this  accidental  rencontre,  as  he 
called  it,  and  accepted  the  invitation. 
Myrtle  went  directly  to  inquire  about  the 
wines,  and  took  a  glafs  of  Madeira  by  way 
of  trial. 

In  paying  the  laft  poft,  Shuffle  finding 
there  was  an  overplus  of  nine  {hillings, 
gave  it  to  the  two  poftillions  who  had 
driven  Myrtle  and  him. 

As  he  ordered  this  ample  recompence 
with  a  loud  and  boafting  voice,  he  was 
heard  by  another  poftillion  who  at  that  in- 
ftant  drove  a  chaife  and  pair  into  the  court. 
A  decent  looking  woman,  but  whofe  fear- 
tures  bore  the  marks  of  forrow  and  adver- 
fity,  ftepped  out  of  the  chaife ;  me  imme- 
diately inquired  if  any  ftage  coach  for 
London  was  expected  to  pafs  foon ;  and 

being 


334  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

being  told  that  one  would  pafs  withvn  half 
an  hour,  fhe  faid  that  provided  there  was 
room  fhe  would  proceed  by  that  conveyance. 
She  then  paid  the  poftillion  his  fare,  and 
gave  him  a  (hilling  for  himfelf.  The  fel- 
low looking  at  it  fcornfully,  faid,  with  an 
infolent  tone  to  the  lady,  "  What  is  this 
for,  miftrefs."  To  which  fhe  mildly  re- 
plied, "  I  am  forry,  friend,  I  cannot  afford 
to  give  you  any  more  at  prefent ;  for  to  fay 
the  truth,  I  have  fcarcely  money  fufficient 
to  clear  my  expences  to  London." 

"  If  I  had  known  as  much,"  retorted  the 
fellow,  "  damn  me  if  I  fhould  have  driven 
fo  faft.  Ay,  Jack,"  continued  he,  ad- 
drefiing  one  of  the  poftillions  who  had 
driven  Shuffle  and  Myrtle,  "  you  have  met 
with  two  generous  gentlemen,  but  I  have 
picked  up  a  fhiiling  b — ch,  by  God." 

"  You  don't  expect  always  to  have  the 
bed  luck,  do  you?"  faid  the  other.  "  Don't 
you  remember  the  laft  time  we  met  that  I 
received  only  eighteen  pence  for  driving 
two  officers  fixteen  miles,  and  I  faw  you 
get  half  a  crown  for  bringing  one  maa 


ten." 


13  "What 


EDWARD.  335 

"  What  the  devil  could  you  expeft  from 
two  beggarly  officers  in  the  army  ?"  refumed 
the  firft  poftillion;  "  whereas  the  gentleman 
that  I  drove  that  day  was  a  matter  butcher 
in  Clare  market." 

At  the  commencement  of  this  dialogue, 
the  lady  had  walked  into  the  inn.  The 
grooms  and  footmen  who  filled  the  court 
applauded  the  pofiillion's  wit  with  loud 
laughter,  in  which  they  were  joined  by 
Shuffle  and  Carnaby.  Edward  was  other- 
wife  affeded. 

Having  followed  the  lady  into  a  parlour, 
he  found  her  wiping  her  eyes  with  her 
handkerchief. 

"  Pray,  Madam,^'  faid  he,  "  do  not  al- 
low the  brutality  of  that  fellow  to  affecl: 
you  too  much ;  he  is  really  not  worth  your 
notice." 

"  I  know  it,  Sir,"  faid  the  lady ;  "  and 
it  is  not  his  rudenefs  that  afie&s  me ;  but 
the  reflection  on  my  own  irreparable  mif- 
fortune,  in  the  lofs  of  him,  who  ufed  to 
protect  me  from  fuch  infults."  Here 
flie  burft  anew  into  tears,  and  continued 

fpr 


F  T>  W  A  R  D. 

forfome  minutes  to  fob  as  if  her  heart  were 
breaking. 

When  (he  feemed  to  hax^e  recovered  her- 
felf  a  little,  "  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me, 
Madam,"  faid  Edward,'  in  the  moft  refpect- 
ful  manner  ;  "  but  I  heard  you  hint  that 
your  finances  were  flender  at  prefent  ;  may 
I  beg  therefore  that  you  will  oblige  me  by 
accepting  of  this  trifle,  till  you  are  in  eafier 
circumftances." 

The  lady,  looking  with  furprize  at  him, 
faid,  "  You  are  extremely  good,  Sir  ;  but  I 
believe  I  have  money  enough  to  carry  me 
to  town,  where  I  am  not  without  hopes  of 
getting  a  fupply  e'er  it  be  long." 

"  Why  fhould  you  run  any  rifk, 
Madam  ?"  replied  he  with  earneftnefs; 
"  you  may  not  find  your  friends  directly 
on  your  arrival ;  what  I  offer  is  a  trifle — 
only  five  guineas — for  which  I  have  no 
immediate  ule,  and  you  mall  repay  them 
when  you  pleafe.  I  earneftly  beg  your 
acceptance  of  them.  Pray  do,  Madam,  you 
will  indeed  oblige  me  very  much." 

The  lady  defiring  to  know  to  whom  flic 

was  obliged,  and  taking  his  addrefs,  at  length 

10  yielded 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  337 

yielded  to  his  intreades,   and  accepted  the 
five  guineas. 

When  Edward  withdrew,  to  his  pleafure 
and  furprife  he  met  Mr.  Temple  in  the  paf- 
fage.  That  gentleman  had  arrived  fome 
hours  before  on  his  way  to  London,  and 
had  been  detained  at  the  inn  by  an  incident 
that  mail  be  explained  in  due  time. 

While  he  fat  in  an  upper  room,  he  had 
heard  the  laughter  of  the  grooms  and  foot- 
men, and  on  one  of  the  waiters  entering, 
he  afked  what  was  the  occafion  of  all  that 
mirth  ?  "  They  are  laughing,"  anfwered 
the  fellow,  "  at  a  kind  of  a  gentlewoman 
who  is  juft  arrived  in  a  pod  chaife.  Scarcely 
having  money  enough  to  hold  out  the  re- 
maining polls,  me  could  give  the  poftillion 
only  a  milling,  which  to  be  fure  is  a  little 
upon  the  fhabby  order  in  fuch  rainy  wea- 
ther ;  and  me  now  fits  moping  by  herfelf, 
until  the  arrival  of  the  ftage  coach,  which 
to  be  fure  is  more  fitter,  an'  pleafe  your 
honour,  for  fuch  fecond-hand  gentry,  than 
a  poft  chaife." 

VOL.  i.  z  Mr, 


338  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

Mr.  Temple  defired  to  be  fhewn  where 
the  Lady  Was,  in  a  manner  that  indicated 
difpleafure. 

"  I  meant  no  offence,  pleafe  your  ho* 
nour,"  faid  the  waiter.  "  I  always  refpects 
the  cloth,  becaufe  they  orders  the  beft  of 
whatever  is  in  the  houfe,  and  fometirnes 
allows  to  waiters  genteelly." 

Mr.  Temple  having  again  defired  to  be 
{hewn  to  the  Lady,  was  informed  that  a 
gentleman  was  with  her.  Waiting  until  he 
could  fpeak  to  her  alone,  he  met  Edward, 
and  being  at  the  fame  inftant  told  that  the 
Lady  was  difengaged,  he  defired  Edward 
to  wait  a  few  minutes  for  him  in  another 
room.  Mr.  Temple  himfelf  then  went  to- 
the  parlour  in  which  the  Lady  was,  and  in 
the  moft  delicate  terms  made  her  an  offer  of 
the  fame  nature  with  that  which  he  had 
prevailed  on  her  to  accept. 

"  This  is  very  furprifing,"  exclaimed  the 
X.ady,  "  that  two  propofals  of  this  na- 
ture ihould  be  made  to  me  in  one  day." 
She  then  affured  him  that  he  had  been  anti- 
cipated in  his  generous  intention,  and  that 


EDWARD.  339 

{he  no  longer  ftood  in  need  of  the  affiftance 
he  feemed  fo  willing  to  lend. 

Mr.  Temple  had  no  notion  that  Edward 
tvas  the  perfon  who  had  been  with  the  Lady 
when  he  met  him  in  the  paffage  ;  but  he 
fhewed  great  fatisfaclion  as  foon  as  he  dif- 
covered  from  her  defcription  that  it  was  fo. 

"  I  prefume,  Sir,"  faid  the  Lady,  "  that 
charming  youth  is  a  near  relation  of  yours; 
fure  I  am,  your  fouls  are  akin.'* 

Mr.  Teonple  bowed  without  farther  ex- 
planationj  and  then  hinted  a  defire  that  fhe 
would  place  the  fame  confidence  in  him  that 
Jhe  had  in  Edward,  and  oblige  him  by  ac- 
cepting his  offer  alfo.  To  this  the  Lady 
replied, "  that  (he  was  not  quite  fatisfied  with 
herfelf  for  having  yielded  to  the  intreaties 
of  his  friend.  "  It  is  poflible,"  continued  fhe, 
"  that  I  may  not  have  need  of  the  money 
he  has  lent  me  ;  but  there  was  fo  much 
goodnefs  in  his  motive  for  making  me  the 
offer,  fo  much  candour  and  benevolence  in 
his  countenance,  and  fuch  delicate  earneft- 
nefs  in  his  manner,  that  I  found  them  irre- 
fiftible ;  and  when  I  accepted,  it  was  really 
zs  in 


340  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

in  fome  degree  to  oblige  him.  The  fams 
motives  would  have  made  the  fame  impref- 
(ion,  continued  (he,  had  your  humane  pro- 
pofal  preceded  his  ;  but  you  fee,  my  good 
Sir,  there  is  no  longer  the  fame  neceffity." 

Mr.  Temple  feeming  uneafy  at  her  per- 
fifting  in  her  refufal,  the  Lady  added,  "  I 
am  exceedingly  fenfible,  Sir,  of  your  good- 
nefs ;  and  although  your  young  friend  was 
in  too  much  hurry  to  hear  my  ftory,  per- 
haps you  will  have  patience  to  learn  fome- 
thing  of  the  perfon  you  are  fo  ready  to 
oblige." 

She  then  informed  Mr.  Temple,  that 
ihe  was  the  widow  of  an  officer  of  the  ar- 
tillery, who  had  died  in  the  Weft  Indies ; 
that  me  had  one  fon,  a  youth  of  about  thir- 
teen, who  was  at  fchool  in  London  ;  that 
ihe  nad  hardly  any  thing  to  maintain  her- 
felf  and  this  boy,  except  the  penfion  of  a 
fubaltern  officer's  widow ;  that  me  had  been 
living  with  a  relation  in  the  country  for  a 
conliderable  time,  on  purpofe  to  enable  her 
to  pay  her  fon's  expences  at  fchool,  and  was 
now,  on  her  way  to  town  to  fee  her  fon,  and 

make 


EDWARD.  341 

make  interefl  to  get  him  received  as  a  cadet 
on  the  eftablifhinent  at  Woolwich. 

Mr.  Temple  faid,  he  was  happy  fhe  had 
informed  him  of  her  errand  to  London, 
becaufe  he  had  hopes  that  it  would  be  in 
his  power  to  promote  her  views,  as  he  had 
the  honour  of  being  known  to  the  Mafter- 
General  of  the  Ordnance,  and  would  cer- 
tainly fpeak  to  him  in  favour  of  her  fon ; 
adding,  that  from  the  known  attention  he 
paid  to  the  duties  of  his  office,  and  the  pa- 
tronage he  willingly  beftowed  on  the  fons 
of  officers,  there  was  little  room  to  doubt  of 
fuccefs, 

The  Lady  poured  forth  a  profufion  of 
grateful  acknowledgments  to  Mr.  Temple, 
while  he  wrote  in  his  pocket-book  the  name 
and  iltuation  of  the  fchool  where  her  fon 
was,  with  her  own  addrefs,  that  he  might 
know  where  to  find  them  in  London. 

The  waiter  entered  to  inform  her  that  the 
flage-coach  was  arrived ;  that  he  had  fe- 
cured  her  a  place,  as  one  of  the  paflengers 
was  to  go  no  farther  in  the  coach  ;  and  that 
it  would  not  proceed  for  near  an  hour,  by 
Z  3  vrhich 


342  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

which  time  he  hoped  that  the  rain,  which 
was  very  violent,  would  abate. 

On  leaving  the  Lady,  Mr.  Temple  found 
Edward  in  the  pafTage.  The  coachman 
having  affifted  a  young  woman  with  an 
infant  in  her  arms,  from,  the  coach-box, 
was  leading  her,  drenched  with  rain,  and 
the  water  pouring  from  her  clothes,  into 
the  kitchen.  Edward  and  Mr.  Temple 
followed  them.  Sir  George  Royfton,  who 
has  been,  already  mentioned,  and  Colonel 
Snug,  of  whom  the  reader  will  know  more 
hereafter,  flood  before  the  fire  ;  they  waited 
for  frefh  horfes  to  their  chaife. 

"  If  that  creature  comes  hither,"  cried 
the  Colonel ;  "  by  G — d  we  {hall  be  all 
afloat !" 

Edward  drew  a  large  chair  near  the  fire, 
and  expreffing  fympathy  at  the  ftate  ihe 
was  in,  defired  the  woman  to  fit  down. 

"  I  do  not  mind  myfelf,"  faid  the  poor 
woman  ;  "  but  I  fear  for  my  child." 

Her  apprehenfions  were  without  founda- 
tion ;  for  when  the  rain  began  fhe  had 
pulled  off  her  cloak,  and  ftript  herfeff  of 

fome 


EDWARD.  343 

ibme  other  parts  of  her  drefs,  to  fcreen  the 
infant ;  and  although  fhe  herfelf  had  been 
foon  wet  to  the  {kin,  when  the  cloak  and 
other  wrappings  were  removed,  the  child's 
uiual  clothes  were  found  quite  dry. 

While  the  mother,  ftill  apprehenfive  that 
her  child  might  have  fuffered,  examined 
him  with  affectionate  folicitude,  the  infant 
ieemed  alarmed  at  the  number  of  ftrange 
faces  that  were  gazing  on  him,  which  Ed  ward 
remarking,  gently  prefled  the  woman's 
head  nearer  the  child,  an$l  at  the  fame  in- 
ftant  tickling  the  cheek  of  the  latter,  re- 
peated from  Virgil's  eclogue — 

Incipey  parve  pnert  rifu  cognofcert  inatrem. 

The  infant,  as  if  it  had  uriderftood  the 
•words,  diflipated  the  mother's  fears,  and  re- 
paid her  care  by  immediately  fmiling  in 
her  face. 

Edward  then  whifpered  the  Landlady  to 
take  the  poor  woman  into  a  bed-chamber, 
and  give  her  a  dry  gown  and  cloak,  for 
which  he  would  indemnify  her. 

The  Landlady  did  as  fhe  was  defired. 

z  4  "  Pool 


344  EDWARD. 

"  Poor  young  woman," faid  the  coachman, 
as  fhe  left  the  room,  "  I  am  forry  there  was 
not  room  for  her  within  the  coach  ;  fhe  has 
been  expofed  to  the  rain  above  two  hours  ; 
and  I  am  fure  fhe  is  drenched  to  the  {kin, 
and  is  much  to  be  pitied." 

"  She  looks  like  a  new-ducked  w — re," 
faid  Sir  George  Royfton,  with  a  laugh. 

"  She  is  not  handfome  enough  to  be  of 
that  profefTion,"  laid' Colonel  Snug. 

"  A  woman  under  misfortunes  has  a  right 
to  be  pitied,  pleafe  your  honours,"  faid  the 
coachman, "whetherfhe is  handfome  or  not." 

"  She  may  have  a  right  to  what  fhe 
pleafes  ;  but  nobody  ever  troubles  their  heads 
with  thofe  who  are  not  handfome,"  rejoined 
Sir  George, 

"  Handfome  is  who  handfome  does^  pleafe 
your  honours,"  faid  the  coachman  ; — "  this 
poor  woman  pulled  the  clothes  from  her 
o'.vn  back,  and  expofed  herfelf  to  the  florin 
to  protect  her  child-^-that  is  what  I  calls 
handfome." 

fct  Ay,  my  good  fellow,"  laid  Mr.  Temple, 
clapping  tfye  coachman's  fhoulder ;  "  and 

what 


EDWARD.  345 

•what  every  humane  and  feeling  man  will 
call  handfome." 

"  Parfons,  to  be  fure,  are  in  general  men 
of  feeling,"  faid  Colonel  Snug,  fneeringly. 

"  Brave  men  are  generally  humane,"  xe» 
plied  Mr.  Temple,  fixing  the  Colonel ; 
"  and  when  a  foldler  is  otherwife,  he  difho- 
nours  his  profeffion." 

"  The  rain  was  fo  violent,  and  continued 
fo  long,"  refumed  the  coachman,  "  that  I 
fear  the  poor  woman  will  fuffer  in  her 
health." 

**  Thofe  creatures  never  fuffer  in  their 
health,"  faid  Snug  ;  "  I  have  feen  foldiers 
wives,  with  children  on  their  backs,  keep 
pace  with  the  men  on  a  march  in  the  midft 
of  froft  and  fnow,  and  I  never  heard  of 
their  being  the  worfe  for  it." 

"  It  is  nothing  to  thofe  who  are  ufed  to 
it,"  added  Sir  George  Royfton. 

Mr.  Temple,  fupprefling  his  indignation 
at  this  difcourfe,  and  addrefling  the  coach- 
man, faid,  "  Friend,  you  feem  to  take  fome 
intereft  in  this  poor  woman ;  pray  what  do 

you  know  of  her  ?" 

«  All 


346  EDWARD. 

"  All  that  I  know,  pleafe  your  honour, 
about  this  here  young  woman  juft  gone  out 
is,  that  her  hufband  is  a  lea- faring  man ; 
xvho  was  taken  by  a  prefs-gang  in  theftreets 
of  London  about  a  month  ago,  and  fent  to 
Portfmouth.  When  fhe  heard  of  this,  flie 
followed  him  without  more  delay,  notwith- 
ftanding  her  grief  for  ftich  an  accident; 
whereof  fhe  took  her  child  with  her,  and 
remained  there  until  the  fliip  on  which  her 
hufband  was  aboard  failed,  and  moft  of  her 
money  was  expended  on  neceilaries  to  fit  him 
out,  which  flie  fent  to  him  after  {he  came 
afhore,  by  the  boatfwain,  although  her  huf- 
band, like  an  honed- hearted  failor,  had  de- 
fired  her  not  to  do  it,  for  fear  of  diftreffing 
her  ;  and  fo,  being  fhort  of  money,  fhe  took 
a  feat  on  the  outfide  of  my  coach,  and  to  be 
fure  fhe  diji  nothing  but  cry  and  figh, 
although  I  faid  all  I  could  to  comfort  her, 
by  telling  her  of  a  relation  of  my  own 
whofe  hufband  went  to  fea,  and  left  hei' 
with  five  children,  inftcad  of  one  ;  and  he 
was  abfent  for  nine  years  without  her  ever 
feeing  him,  and  yet  he  returned  at  laft  in 

perfect 


E  D  \V  A  R  D.  347 

perfect  health,  and  with  a  good  deal  of 
money,  about  a  month  after  his  wife's  death. 
I  told  the  poor  woman  all  this  to  keep  up 
her  fpirits,  faying,  that  I  hoped  the  fame 
would  not  happen  to  her,  as  to  the  article  of 
dying,  but  only  as  to  her  hufband's  return- 
ing in  perfect  health,  and  with  a  good  deal 
of  money  ;  but  all  I  could  fay  was  not  able 
to  comfort  her." 

"  I  hope  you  was  able  to  comfort  her, 
however,"  faid  Colonel  Snu.g,  "  when  me 
was  ftripped  ;  for  I  think  you  told  us  me 
ftripped  herfelf  at  laft?" 

"  When  the  rain  began,"  anfwered  the 
coachman,  "  me  ftripped  herfelf  of  part  of 
her  clothes  to  fhelter  her  child  ;  and  without; 
difparagement,  I  hope  that  you,  nor  none 
of  your  relations,  ever  ftript  for  a  more 
fmful  purpofe." 

"  Do  you  know,  friend,  to  whom  Ihe 
goes  when  me  arrives  in  London,"  faid  Mr. 
Temple. 

"  She  told  me,"  replied  the  coachman, 
"  that  {he  was  going  to  her  hufband's  mo- 
ther, who  is  a  poor  woman  who  lives  in 

Holborn. 


348  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

Holborn.  Her  own  father  is  butler  to  Mr. 
Bloffom,  a  rich  nabob  from  the  Eaft  In- 
dies ;  but  he  was  fo  enraged  at  her  quitting 
her  fervice  to  marry  the  failor,  that  he  has 
not  feen  her  fince,  although  the  failor  is  of 
an  honeft  character  and  a  handfome  man  ; 
but  handfomenefs  in  ahufband,  pleafe  your 
honour,  is  nothing  to  a  father,  although  it 
is  a  great  deal  to  a  daughter.'* 

a  I  am  very  well  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Bloffom,"  faid  Mr.  Temple  ;  «  and  I  will 
fpeak  to  him  on  the  fubject,  and  I  hope  he 
will  prevail  on  his  butler  to  receive  his 
daughter  with  kindnefs,  and  provide  for 
her  and  her  child  till  her  hufband  fliall 
return." 

ct  God  Almighty  blefs  you,  my  good  Sir, 
for  your  intention,"  cried  the  poor  woman, 
who  returned  to  the  kitchen  with  the  Land- 
lady, and  had  overheard  Mr.  Temple;  "but 
my  father,  who  is  a  very  honeft  man,  is  fo 
paffionate,  that  it  will  be  difficult  to  bring 
him  to  confent  to  take  me  home  ;  and  if  he 
did,  he  would  be  apt  to  fpeak  of  my  deav 

Richard 


EDWARD. 

Richard  in  a  way  that  would  break  my 
heart." 

Mr,  Temple  defired  her  to  make  herfelf 
eaiy,  as  he  fhould  take  care  to  mention  the 
affair  in  fach  a  manner  as  would  reconcile 
her  father." 

Sir  George  furveyed  her  with  aftonuli- 
ment ;  he  could  hardly  believe  (he  was 
the  fame  whom  he  had  feen  fhivering 
with  cold  and  drenched  with  rain  a  little 
before.  Anxiety  for  her  child  had  likewife 
contributed  to  drive  the  rofe  from  her  cheek, 
impair  the  luftre  of  her  eye,  and  to  give  her 
the  fickly  look  of  dejection.  The  altera- 
tion of  drefs,  the  refreshment  {he  had  taken, 
and  above  all  the  cheering  fmiles  of  her  in- 
fant, had  now  reftored  the  native  beauty  of 
her  countenance,  which  was  alfo  augment- 
ed by  the  glow  of  gratitude. 

"  Upon  my  foul,  my  dear,  I  am  glad  to  fee 
you  fo  much  recovered,"  faid  Sir  George ; 
"  I  was  afraid  you  had  fuffered  from  the  rain. 
As  for  the  gentleman  in  whofe  fervice  your 
father  is,  he  is  my  intimate  friend.  O,  I  am 
convinced  that  he  and  I  together  will  fooa 

prevail 


£  D  W  A  k  D. 

prevail  on  him  to  be  reconciled  t6  you;  and, 
hark  you,  (added  he,  drawing  her  a  little 
afide,  and  fpeaking  in  a  low  voice,^  you  will 
call  on  me  after  to-morrow  j  there  is  my  ad- 
drefa;  I  mall  by  that  time  have  ieen  your 
father,  and  will  probably  have  good  news 
to  impart ;  in  the  mean  time  here  is 
fomething  to  purchafe  clothes  for  your 
child."  So  faying,  he  flipped  a  guinea 
into  her  hand  with  his  card. 

By  this  time  Colonel  Snug  was  feated  in 
Royfton's  carnage,  which  had  arrived  the 
moment  before.  When  Sir  George  was 
ftepping  in  after  him,  he  was  followed  to 
the  door  of  the  chaife  by  the  young  wo- 
man, who  with  an  air  of  mpdefty  and  gra- 
titude returned  him  thanks.  Colonel  Snug 
was  fomewhat  ftruck  alfo  with  the  favour- 
able alteration  in  the  appearance  of  the 
young  woman;  and  obferving  that  there 
were  a  good  many  fpe&ators,  he  was 
prompted  by  oftentation,  with  a  flight 
mixture  of  good- will,  to  exhibit  his  ge- 
nerofity. 

8  "  La 


EDWARD.  35< 

"  La  Plume,"  he  called  with  an  air  of 
dignity,  as  he  drew  on  his  glove ;  "  La 
Plume,  give  this  young  woman  a  couple  of 
guineas  on  my  account.'* 

When  the  poor  woman  had  exprefled 
her  thankfulnefs  for  this  frefh  inftance  of 
liberality,  La  Plume  came  to  the  fide  of  the 
chaife,  and  informed  the  Colonel  that  his 
money  was  already  expended  all  to  within; 
a  few  {hillings,  and  defired  five  guineas 
more  from  his  matter  that  he  might  give- 
two  to  the  woman,  and  keep  the  reft  for 
future  difburfements. 

"  Blockhead,"  cried  the  Colonel,  "  why 
did  you  not  tell  me  fo  before  I  drew  on  my 
gloves;  it  is  impofTible  for  me  now  to 
fumble  for  my  purfe ;  poftillion,  drive 
on."  The  poftillion  obeyed,  and  the  car- 
riage difappeared. 

The  ruftic  group  who  were  witnefTes  to 
this  fcene  were  {hocked ;  curfes  againft  the 
Colonel  burft  from  every  mouth,  and  when 
they  came  to  comment  upon  his  conduct,. 
the  general  conftruclion  was,  that  he  had 
ordered  the  two  guirieas  to  be  given  from 

flieer 


35*  EDWARD. 

fheer  vanity,  knowing  that  his  valet  had 
no  money,  and  that  the  order  could  not  be 
executed.       In   this,   however,   they   were 
miftaken.      Colonel  Snug    had   really   be- 
lieved that  his  fervant  had  forne  guineas  of 
his    money    remaining,    and    he    intended 
bonafide  that  two  of  them  fhould  have  been 
given  to  the  woman.     The  Colonel  was  in 
the  habit  of  profufion,  and  although  always 
in  debt,   he  was  never  in  want,  and  there- 
fore put  little  value  on  fmall  fums.     He  had 
ordered  the  money  to  be  given,  becaufe  he 
was  pleafed  with  the  woman's  face,  becaufe 
(he  had  attracted  the  people's  attention,  and 
becaufe  parting  with  two  guineas  by  a  word 
to  his  valet,  gave  him  no  trouble ;   whereas 
pulling  off  his  glove   gave   him   a   little. 
The  fpedlators  had  no  idea  that  any  man 
could  ib  cruelly  difappoint  a  perfon  in  the 
poor  woman's  circumftances,  merely  to  fave 
himfelf  fo  very  fmall  a  piece  of  trouble  j  for 
the  moft  felfifh  villager  has  no  conception 
of  that  degree  of  felfifhnefs  and  infenfibi- 
lity  to  the  feelings  of  others  which  exifts 
among  the   fons    of  luxury  and  floth  in 
5  capitals, 


EDWARD.  353 

capitals,  where  the  heart  is  rendered  callous 
by  the  daily  exhibition  of  profufion  con- 
trafted  with  want,  mifery  with  mirth,  and 
where  people  are  fo  often  the  witnefles  or 
accomplices  of  the  ruin  of  friends  or  ac- 
quaintance. 


VOL.  I.  A  A 


354  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

CHAP.    XXXV. 


La  charite  fanflifie  les  adions  les  plus  communes,  e? 

vertus. 
ROCHEFOUCAULD. 


i'orgueil  corrompt  les  plus  fublimes  vertus. 


part  of  the  foregoing  converfa- 
tion,  Edward  had  fettled  every  article 
regarding  the  young  woman,  and  the  ftage- 
coach  being  ready,  the  landlady  informed 
her  that  the  clothes  fhe  had  borrowed  were 
now  her  own,  the  young  gentleman  having 
paid  for  them,  and  for  an  infide  paflage  for 
her  in  the  coach. 

The  poor  woman,  unable  to  exprefs  her 
gratitude,  burft  into  tears. 

Mr.  Temple,  having  handed  the  officer's 
widow  into  the  carriage,  next  lent  his  affift- 
ance  to  this  woman.  —  "  Dry  up  your  tears," 
good  woman,"  faid  he,  u  and  ftep  in  ;  but 
led  me  advife  you  not  to  go  near  the  gentle- 
man who  whifpered  you,  until  I  have  pre- 
vailed on  your  father  to  fee  you,  which 

I  (hall 


EDWARD.  355 

I  fhall  endeavour  to  do  as  foon  as  I  get  to 
London." 

She  affured  him,  that  fhe  would  obferve 
his  advice  ;  and  the  coach  drove  away. 

When  he  turned  about  he  found  Mr. 
Shuffle  and  Carnaby  (landing  behind  him  ; 
they  had  come  in  fearch  of  Edward,  who 
prefented  Mr.  Temple  to  Shuffle  as  a  friend 
of  his,  whom  he  had  prevailed  on  to  dine 
with  them. 

In  a  mort  converfation  which  Mr.  Tem- 
ple had  apart  with  Edward,  immediately 
before  they  fat  down  to  dinner,  the  former 
afked  whether  Edward  intended  to  proceed 
to  London  that  evening,  or  remain  with 
thofe  gentlemen  at  the  inn  ? 

Edward  anfwered,  "  That  Mr.  Shadow 
and  he  himfelf  were  determined  to  go  to 
town  very  ibon  after  dinner." 

"  As  for  Mr.  Shadow's  determinations," 
faid  Mr.  Temple,  *i  you  ought  to  be  fuffi- 
ciently  acquainted  with  him  to  know,  that 
their  execution  depends  more  on  the  will  of 
the  company  in  which  he  is  than  his  own  ; 
A  A  2  and 


356  EDWARD. 

and  from  what  I  have  heard  of  two  of  his 
prefent  companions,  I  think  it  is  moft  likely 
that  the  one,  by  pufhing  the  bottle,  and  the 
other,  by  propofing  gaming,  will  detain  him 
here  for  this  night." 

"  He  fhall  remain  without  me,  then,*' 
faid  Edward  ;  "  for  I  am  refolved  to  go  to 
tdwn." 

It  was  then  agreed,  that  in  cafe  Carnaby 
chofe  to  remain,  Edward  fhould  fet  out 
with  Mr.  Temple,  who  mentioned,  at  the 
fame  time,  his  having  been  already  detained 
much  longer  than  he  originally  intended  ; 
and  that  he  now  waited  for  a  perfon  with 
vrhom  he  had  fome  bufmefs,  and  who 
would  probably  call  for  him  before  they  had 
done  dinner  ;  foon  after  which  he  would 
order  the  chaife." 

During  the  dinner  Myrtle  called  for  a 
variety  of  wine,  and  was  continually  in- 
viting one  or  other  of  the  company  to 
drink. 

Mr.  Temple  drank  two  glafles  with  him, 
but  refufed  when  he  propofed  a  third. 

"  I  never 


EDWARD.  357 

"  I  never  knew  a  man  of  your  pro- 
feffion," faid  Shuffle,  addreffing  Mr.  Tem- 
ple, "  who  did  not  love  his  bottle." 

"  I  have  known  feveral  of  yours," 
replied  the  latter,  "  who  liked  to  keep 
themfelves  quite  cool,  and  therefore  de- 
clined it." 

As  Shuffle  lived  by  gaming,  and  knew 
thathe  was  looked  on  as  a^ro/^fo/gamefter, 
this  reply  pinched  him  a  little  ;  however, 
after  a  fhort  paufe,  he  faid:  "  My  profeffion  ! 
I  have  no  profeffion  but  that  of  a  gentle- 
man, Sir." 

"  And  did  you  never  know  a  gentleman, 
Sir,"  anfvvered  Mr.  Temple,  "  who  liked  to 
keep  himfelf  cool,  and  therefore  Declined 
drinking  J" 

"  Gentlemen!  I  fpoke  of  clergymen," "" 
jfaid  Shuffle. 

"  They  are  included  in  the  other  clafs," 
faid  Mr.  Temple ;  "  and  in  general  fupport 
the  character  as  honourably  as  the  men 
of  any  profeflion  whatever,  without  ex- 
cepting thofe,  Sir,  who  profefs  to  be  gen- 
tlemen and  nothing  elfe." 

A  A  3  Mr» 


358  EDWARD. 

Mr.  Shuffle  was  of  a  difpofition  to  be  in- 
folent,  when  he  could  with  fafety,  and  pe- 
culiarly inclined  to  be  witty  on  the  clergy. 
Mr.  Temple's  manner  convinced  him,  that 
it  would  be  prudent  to  reierve  certain  jokes 
which  he  had  ready  prepared  on  that  fub- 
ject  for  fome  other  opportunity.  After  a 
fhort  paufe  the  converfadon  became  more 
amicable. 

About  an  hour  after  dinner,  Mr.  Temple 
called  for  a  bill,  faying  he  was  obliged  to  go 
to  town. 

This  demand  for  the  bill  was  repeated  by 
Mr.  Shuffle,  who  heartily  wifhed  him  gone, 
as  he  felt  himfelf  in  conficlerable  reftraint 
in  his  prefence,  and  feared  that  he  would 
be  a  bar  to  fome  of  his  projects.  He  was 
vexed,  however,  when  she  heard  Edward 
propofe  to  Carnaby  that  they  mould  go  alfo. 

This  being  violently  oppofed  by  Mr. 
Myrtle,  Carnaby  declared  that  he  could  not 
think  of  quitting  good  company  fo  foon. 

"  Then,"  faid  Edward,  "  as  I  am  under 
that  neceffity,  I  will  be  obliged  to  Mr. 
Temple  for  a  place  in  his  chaife." 

In 


EDWARD.  359 

In  collecting  the  bill,  Shuffle  made  fuch  a 
demand  from  each  as  left  eighteen  (hillings 
for  the  waiter. 

Mr.  Temple,  after  paying  his  proportion, 
obferved,  that  this  was  a  great  deal  too 
much. 

"  Pray  what  would  you  be  for  giving 
him  >"  faid  Shuffle. 

"  The,  third  part,  at  the  utmoft,"  replied 
Mr.  Temple  j  "  and  in  giving  more  I  (hould 
think  I  did  wrong." 

"  What  would  you  do  with  the  remain- 
ing twelve  ihillings  ?"  faid  Shuffle.  "  I  will 
be  damned  fooner  than  take  a  fixpence 
ofi," 

"  There  is  no  need  of  the  alternative," 
faid  Mr.  Temple,  "  as  I  think  the  twelve 
{hillings  may  be  better  difpofed  of  than 
either  by  giving  them  to  the  waiter,  or  re- 
fuming  them  ourfelves." 

They  all  agreed  that  he  fhould  difpofe  of 
them  as  he  pleafed.  Mr.  Temple  then  rung 
the  bell,  and  defired  that  the  young  man 
who  waited  below  to  fpeak  to  him  might 

be  fent  up. 

A  A  4          "  Gentlemen," 


360  EDWARD. 

"  Gentlemen,"  faid  he,  addrefiing  the 
company,  "  I  arrived  here  this  morning  a 
confiderable  time  before  any  of  you  ;  and,  as 
I  pafled  into  the  parlour,  I  faw  the  youth  I 
have  now  fent  for  pay  half-a-crown  to  the 
waiter  for  a  bottle  of  wine  ;  he  was  pale, 
emaciated,  and  feemed  to  ftand  more  in 
need  of  victuals  than  of  drink  ;  he  had,  be- 
fides,  a  look  of  forrow  which  interefted  me. 
*  Is  that  wine  for  your  own  drinking,  my 
lad  r  faid  I.  <  God  forbid  !'  anfwered  he, 
with  a  look  of  horror. 

"  On  my  inquiring  farther,  he  told  me, 
that  his  aunt  was  ill  of  a  putrid  fore  throat ; 
that  the  apothecary  had  fent  fome  powders 
of  Jefuits  bark,  with  directions  that  they 
fhould  be  taken  in  port  wine.  I  afked,  if 
he  himfelf  was  at  the  expence  of  this  ?  Be- 
fore he  could  arifwer,  the  Oftler,  who  flood 
by,  faid,  '  Ay,  that  he  is,  and  of  the  apothe- 
cary's drugs  alfo.* 

« «  Well,'  refumed  the  youth,  '  and  fo  I 
ought ;  did  not  fhe  maintain  me  when  I 
was  a  helplefs  child,  after  my  father  and 

mother's 


EDWARD.  361 

mother's  death,  and  prevent  my  coming  on 
the  parim.  ?' 

f  '  It  is  not  every  one,  however,  that 
would  do  the  fame,'  replied  the  Oilier  ; 

*  but   thou  art    a  worthy    foul,    Joe,  and 
God's  bleffing  will  follow  thee.— This  poor 
young  fellow,'    continued  the  Oftler,   ad- 
dreffing  me,  *  has  taken  as  much  care  of  his 
aunt  as  if  (he  had  been  his  mother.7 

"  '  Well,  and  fo  I  ought,'  faid  the  youth  ; 

*  (he  took  as  much  care  of  me  as  if  I  had 
been  her  fon.' 

"  I  then  afked  him,'*  continued  Mr. 
Temple,  "  by  what  means  he  was  enabled 
to  maintain  his  aunt.  He  anfwered  that 
he  was  a  houfe-carpenter,  and  gained 
fornetimes  two  (hillings,  and  fometimes  half- 
a-crown  a-day.  The  Oftler  again  broke 
in,  faying,  That  the  young  lad  had  almoft 
killed  himfelf,  by  working  extra  hours,  as 
he  called  ir,  to  procure  neceflaries,  and 
dodor's  ftuff  to  his  aunt ;  adding,  that,  to 
his  knowledge,  the  very  coat  that  ought  to 
be  on  his  back  was  at  that  moment  in  pawn 
for  that  purpofe* 

"  What 


362      .        EDWARD. 

"  4  What  care  I  for  a  coat  ?'  faid  the  youth ; 
*  if  my  aunt  recovers,  I  will  foon  get  ano- 
ther  coat ;  but  if  fhe  die,  where  fhall  I  find 
4  fo  kind  a  relation  ?' 

"  Here  the  tears  flowed  from  his  eyes ; 
and  I  confefs,  gentlemen,"  continued  Mr. 
Temple,  "  I  was  much  touched  with  the 
dutiful  and  generous  behaviour  of  this 
young  man ;  and but  here  he  is." 

It  was  evident  from  the  youth's  wan  face, 
and  emaciated  perfon,  that  very  little  of  his 
v/ages  had  been  fpent  on  his  own  diet. 

"  Well,  Joe,''  faid  Mr.  Temple ;  "  how 
did  you  leave  your  aunt  ?" 

"  Much  better,"  replied  he,  "  thanks  be 
to  God  and  your  honour ;  fhe  has  taken 
two  of  the  powders  and  three  glafles  of 
wine,  and  is  fo  much  revived  that  the 
apothecary  now  thinks  fhe  will  recover 
entirely." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  faid  Mr.  Temple  ; 
. "  and  have  to  inform  you,  that  thofe  gentle- 
men defire  you  will  accept  of  twelve  fhil- 
lings  to  affift   yourfelf  and  her  until ,  her 
health  is  quite  re-eftablifhed." 

"lam 


EDWARD.  363 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  the  gentlemen," 
faid  Joe  ;  "  but  the  fix  bottles  of  wine  you 
fent  from  the  inn,  and  the  guinea  you 
gave  me " 

"  Well,  well,"  interrupted  Mr.  Temple, 
"  fay  no  more  of  that ;  but  here  take  the 
gentlemen's  money,  and  when  you  are  able 
to  come  to  town,  call  where  I  directed." 

Joe  retired,  and  Mr.  Temple  faid,  <c  I 
hope,  gentlemen,  you  are  all  fatisfied  that 
the  money  is  better  beftowed  than  as  was  at 
firft  propofed." 

All  gave  a  ready  aflent,  except  Mr. 
Shuffle ;  who  faid  :  "  After  all,  I  do  not 
fee  that  there  was  any  nece/Tity  of  retrench- 
ing from  the  waiter  on  purpofe  to  give  to 
this  man  ;  but  to  (hew  that  I  approve  of 
his  conduct  to  his  aunt,  and  can .  be  as 
charitable  as  any  man,  although  I  love  to 
pay  waiters  genteelly,  Here,  Landlord,  here 
are  two  guineas,  which  I  defire  may  be 
added  to  the  guinea  which  I  find  Mr.  Tem- 
ple has  already  beftowed  on  him." 

"  Since  that  is  the  cafe,"   cried  Myrtle, 

who  had  drank  a  great  deal  more  than  any 

12  of 


364  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

of  the  company,  "  d — n  me  if  Mr.  Tern- 
pie,  although  he  is  a  parfon,  fliall  be  more 
charitable  than  me  ;  and  fo  I  defire,  Mr, 
Landlord,  that  you  will  forthwith  fend  Joe  a 
dozen  of  this  very  port,  and  put  it  to  my 
account,  that  Joe  and  his  aunt  may  get 
jovial  together,  when  Mr.  Temple's  fix  botr 
ties  are  exhaufted." 

"  I  always  loved  to  be  in  the  fafhion," 
laid  Mr.  Garnaby  Shadow ;  "  and  fmce 
charity  feems  to  be  the  prefent  ton,  I  do 
not  choofe  to  be  left  like  a  quiz  out  of  the 
mode  j  that  the  poor  woman  and  her  ne- 
phew, therefore,  may  be  able  fully  to  relifh 
all  this  port  wine,  I  beg  the  landlord  may 
alfo  fend  her  a  roafted  chicken,  or  whatever 
dim.  (he  likes  better,  every  day,  until  fhe 
u  quite  well,  with  a  good  large  difh  of 
beef  fteaks  for  Joe,  to  put  a  little  more  flefh 
on  the  poor  devil's  bones  ;  and  I  promife  to 
pay  his  bill  at  fight,  which  is  more  than  I 
ever  did  to  my  taylors." 

"  I  heartily  hope,  gentlemen,"  faid  Mr. 
Temple,  "  that  the  faihion  you  have  begun 
will  become  general  and  have  a  long  run ; 

and 


EDWARD.  365 

and  I  am  happy  to  find  that  our  meeting 
to-day  has  proved  fo  beneficial  to  two  peo- 
ple who  feem  fo  well  to  deferve  your 
bounty.  It  is  fortunate  for  Mr.  Shuffle 
that  he  can  afford  to  be  at  once  charitable 
and  lavifh.  I  am  not  in  that  fituadon  ;  my 
finances  oblige  me  to  pay  waiters  and  pot- 
tillions  no  more  than  their  due,  that  I  may 
be  enabled  to  pay  trades-people  the  whole 
of  theirs,  and  ftill  have  fomething  to  beftow 
upon  the  neceffitous."  Having  faid  this,  he 
and  Edward  took  leave  of  the  company. 

As  they  went  down  flairs  Mr.  Shadow's 
fervant  offered  to  affift  Edward  on  with 
his  great  coat.  "  I  fhall  not  put  it  oa 
at  prefent,"  faid  he,  taking  the  coat  from 
the  fervant,  and  ftepping  into  a  room, 
beckoned  Joe  to  follow  him.  "  Here," 
faid  he,  "  Joe,"  after  he  had  fhut  the  door, 
"  here  is  a  coat  which  encumbers  me,  I 
have  a  notion  it  will  fuit  you  ;  try  it  on." 

"  Lord,Sir,"  faid  Joe, "  I  fhould  be  afhamed 
to  put  on  your  honour's  coat ;  befides  the 
night  is  very  cold,  and  your  honour  " 

"  Never  mind  my  honour,"  faid  Edward, 
interrupting  him,  "  but  on  with  the  coat. 

Come, 


366  EDWARD. 

Come,  hold  out  your  arm,   Yes,  I  thought 
it  would  fit  you." 

"  It  fits  me  to  be  fare,"  faid  Joe  ;  "  but 
it  is  too  fine." 

"  Well,  Joe,  wear  it  for  my  fake,  and  I 
hope  you  will  never  be  under  the  neceffity 
of  pawning  it,  either  on  your  own  account 
or  your  aunt's."  So  faying,  he  flew  out  of 
the  room,  and  darting  into  the  carriage, 
where  Mr.  Temple  was  already  feated,  they 
drove  off. 

They  had  no  fooner  left  the  room,  than 
Mr.  Shuffle  faid  ;  "  Now  I  fhould  be  glad 
to  know  what  is  the  parfon's  real  view  in 
all  this  flourilh  about  this  fellow  Joe." 

Myrtle.  What  view  could  he  have  but  to 
ferve  the  man  ? 

Shuffle.  I  cannot  tell  what  view  he  had,  but 
I'll  be  fhot  if  that  was  the  whole  of  it. 

Carnaby.    Why  do  you  doubt  it  ? 

Shuffle.  Becaufe  all  parfons  are  hypo- 
crites ;  and  I  never  knew  any  of  them  that 
had  not  fome  motive  of  intereft  in  what- 
ever they  did. 

Landlord.  I  afk  pardon  for  putting  in 
my  word,  gentlemen ;  but  I  muft  fay  that 

I  have 


EDWARD.  367 

I  have  known  Mr.  Temple  do  feveral  things 
quite  of  a  piece  with  his  behaviour  to  the 
poor  lad. 

Shuffle.  I'll  be  hanged,  then,  if  he  has 
not  done  them  on  purpofe  that  you  might 
trumpet  his  fame  through  the  country  for 
charity  and  benevolence. 

Landlord.    He  muft  have  engaged  many 
trumpeters  befides  me,  pleafe  your  honour  ; 
for  I  hardly  ever  hear  his  name  mentioned 
but  fome  perfon  in  the  company  has  fome- 
thing  of  that  nature  to  record  of  him. 
Sbitffle.   Pihaw  !  it  is  all  orientation. 
As    Mr.   Shuffle    pronounced    this,    he 
turned    contemptuoufly   his   back    on    the 
Landlord,    who   left  the  room  ;   and  then 
addrefiing  Carnaby,  he  faid : 

Shiiffle.  Do  you  imagine  that  all  the  fufs 
which  your  friend  Edward  made  about  the 
woman  proceeded  from  pure  love  alfo  ? 

Carnaby.  Why  faith,  I  (hould  think  fo; 
for  the  woman  feemed  to  be  in  great  diftrefs 
about  her  child. 

Shuffle.  Diftrefs  !  to  be  fure  (he  was  in 
diftrefs ;  but  what  was  her  diftrefs  to  him? 

Carnaby. 


368  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

Carnaby.  Very  little,  one  might  natu- 
rally think  ;  but  Edward  is  {angular  in  that 
way ;  you  can  have  no  conception  how 
much  I  have  feen  him  moved  at  the  diftrefs 
of  people  with  whom  he  had  no  connection, 
and  in  whom  he  ought  naturally  to  have 
had  no  concern.  I  perceived  that  he  was 
exceedingly  moved  with  the  coachman's 
ftory  about  the  woman  and  child. 

Shuffle.  If  he  is  to  be  taken  in  with 
affecting  ftories,  he  may  have  one  told  him 
at  the  corner  of  every  ftreet  in  London. 
Beggars  never  were  fo  numerous ;  one 
would  be  tempted  to  think  that  half  the 
town  was  ftarving  of  hunger  ;  but  for  my 
part  I  make  it  a  rule  never  to  give  any 
thing  to  a  ftreet  beggar. 

Carnaby.  That  is  a  very  good  rule  when 
you  are  in  a  carriage  and  can  drive  paft 
them  ;  but  how  do  you  do  when  you  are 
a  foot,  particularly  if  you  are  caught 
knocking  at  a  door  ? 

Shuffle.  Why  then  indeed  I  am  undex 
the  fame  neceffity  of  furrendering  my  mo- 
ney as  if  a  piftol  were  held  to  my  breaft. 
jo  Every 


EDWARD.  369 

Every  idea  of  chanty  is  equally  out  of  the 
queftion  in  both  cafes  ;  though  in  the  one 
the  money  is  demanded  for  God's  fake, 
and  in  the  other  for  my  own  fake. 

Carnaby.  I  do  remember  being  once 
fmgled  out  by  a  terrible  woman  with  an 
enormous  belly,  who  ftuck  to  me  bawling 
for  charity  the  whole  length  of  Piccadilly, 
Being  determined  not  to  give  her  a  farthing, 
I  was  quickening  my  pace  to  (hake  her  off, 
when  unluckily  I  met  a  Lady  of  my  ac- 
quaintance, and  flopped  to  fpeak  to  her. 
The  hideous  wretch  with  the  belly,  taking 
advantage  of  the  incident,  renewed  her 
clamour  fo  loud  and  fo  woefully,  that  I 
was  afraid  the  monfler  would  have  been 
delivered  in  the  open  ftreet,  and  fo  I  wa* 
obliged  to  throw  her  a  fhilling,  which  put 
an  end  to  her  labour  and  my  pangs  at  once. 

Shuffle.  And  many  of  the  fimpletons  who 
faw  you  thought,  I'll  be  fworn,  that  you 
gave  her  the  (hilling  from  a  motive  of  cha- 
rity, juft  as  the  blockhead  of  a  Landlord 
imagines  that  the  parfon's  behaviour  to  Joe 
proceeded  from  pure  benevolence.  No, 

VOL.  i.  '     B  B  no, 


370  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

no,  it  is  all  a  farce ;  men  of  fenfe  knovr 
better,  and  you  may  depend  upon  it  that 
your  friend  Edward  has  taken  a  fancy  for 
the  woman,  and  has  appointed  her  to  meet 
him  in  town.  You  may  remember  that 
after  her  drefs  was  put  a  little  in  order  me 
looked  pretty  and  piquant  enough. 

Myrtle.  She  looked  pretty  to  be  fure ; 
but  I  am  convinced  fhe  is  a  modeft  woman 
for  all  that. 

Shuffle.  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by 
a  modeft  woman. 

Myrtle.  A  woman  of  chaftity. 

At  this  Shuffle  burft  into  a  horfe-laugh, 
in  which  he  was  joined  by  Carnaby,  who 
exclaimed  in  the  intervals,  "  Chaftity  ! 
that  is  a  good  one !" 

Myrtle.  Not  with  (landing  all  your  mirth, 
I  think  I  underftand  women  as  well  as  either 

b 

of  you,  and  from  the  appearance  and  man- 
ner of  the  failor's  wife,  I  am  willing  to 
bet  a  hogihead  of  claret  on  her  being 
modeft. 

Shuffle.  It  would  be  taking  an  advantage 
of  you  ;  you  have  already  drank  a  little 

too 


EDWARD.  371 

too  much.  Chaftity  !  why  it  never  was 
much  the  mode  among  women  of  her  rank  ; 
and  you  muft  know,  my  dear  fellow,  how 
very  irkfome  the  fafhion  has  been  to  fome 
of  the  fupeHor  orders,  and  how  difficult  they 
find  it  to  fupport  that  kind  of  reputation 
which  is  ftill  confidered  as  indifpenfable  on, 
certain  occafions.  This  piece  of  old  eti- 
quette they  think  may  have  fuited  the  buck- 
ram reign  of  Queen  Befs,  but  is  a  griev- 
ance that  requires  to  be  redrefled  at  prefent. 
The  failor's  wife,  however,  is  not  afFecled 
by  this  reftraint,  as  the  parfon  knows,  who 
I  fufpeft  underftands  women  better  than 
you. 

Carnaby  joined  Mr.  Shuffle  in  his  jokes 
againft  the  parfon  and  the  failor's  wife ;  but 
as  the  reader  might  not  think  them  fo  en- 
tertaining as  the  two  gentlemen  themfelves 
did,  they  are  omitted. 


BB  2 


372  E  D  W  A  R  D. 


CHAP.     XXXVI. 

— —  What  his  hard  heart  denies 
His  charitable  vanity  fupplies.  POPE. 

£,OON  after  Mr.  Temple  and  Edward  were 

feated  in  the  poft  chaife,  the  following 
dialogue  took  place. 

Edward.  Of  all  the  hardeners  of  the 
heart,!  believe  avarice  is  the  greateft. 

Temple.  I  believe  fo  too ;  for  when  that 
cold  paffion  gets  hold  of  the  heart,  it  con- 
tracts it  even  beyond  the  expanding  influence 
of  vanity  ;  and  you  may  therefore  obferve, 
that  thorough-paced  mifers  are  devoid  of 
vanity. 

Edward.  It  is  clear  that  the  gentlemen 
we  have  left  are  not  thorough-paced  mifers. 

Temple.  I  am  afraid,  however,  that  the 
bounty  which  flows  from  unworthy  mo- 
tives is  generally  ill  applied. 

Edward. 


EDWARD.  373 

Edward.  The  effect  is  good,  whatever 
the  motive  may  be.  The  bounty  flows  at 
leaft  from  the  rich  to  the  poor. 

Temple.  I  believe  that  ill  applied  liberality 
does  more  harm  than  good.  If  the  extra- 
vagant manner  in  which  fome  people  re- 
ward waiters  and  poftillions  had  no  other 
effect  than  making  money  pafs  from  one 
fet*of  worthlefs  perfons  to  another,  there 
would  be  no  caufe  of  regret ;  but  the  ill 
confequences  of  this  abfurd  prodigality  is 
more  extenfive,  and  often  proves  a  real  in- 
conveniency  to  the  community  in  general. 
You  yourfelf  was  a  witnefs  to  the  infolent 
behaviour  of  the  poftillion  to  the  Lady  in 
the  court  of  the  inn ;  this  was  entirely 
owing  to  the  ill  directed  profufion  of  fuch 
people  as  thofe  we  have  quitted ;  if  that 
fellow  had  not  been  accuflomed  to  receive 
more  than  his  due  from  the  prodigal  and 
oftentatious,  he  would  not  have  treated 
that  diftrefled  Lady  with  fuch  brutal  info- 
lence.  Thofe  who  pay  poftillions  and 
'  waiters  with  fuch  childifli  profufion  are  the 
original  caufe  of  their  infolence  to  people, 
B  B  3  who, 


374  EDWARD. 

who,  whether  from  choice  or  neceffity,  pay 
them  no  more  than  their  due. 

Edward.  The  prodigality  you  condemn 
in  thofe  gentlemen  proceeds  merely  from 
inattention,  or  contempt  of  money. 

'Temple.  If  the  profufion  were  univerfal, 
or  extended  to  a  great  number  of  other 
objects,  I  ihould  be  of  your  opinion.  If, 
for  example,  they  were  equally  lavifh  to  the 
unfortunate  houfe-keeper,  whole  diftrefles 
occafionally  come  to  their  knowledge,  or  if 
they  overpaid  the  induftrious  tradefman 
with  the  fame  liberality  with  which  t'hey 
overpay  waiters  at  inns,  taverns,  and  gam- 
ing-houfes,  I  (hould  impute  their  prodiga- 
lity to  difregard  of  money  ;  but  when  I 
fee  the  fame  men  who  are  fo  laviih  to  the 
latter,  pafs  the  naked  beggar  without  emo- 
tion, lend  a  deaf  ear  to  the  tale  of  domeftic 
diftrefs,  and  evade  the  payments  of  their 
juft  debts,  I  cannot  impute  their  condudt 
to  inattention  or  contempt  of  money. 

Edward.  To  what  then  do  you  impute 
thofe  gentlemen's  liberality  to  poftillions 
and  waiters  ?  Do  you  imagine  they  have 

any 


EDWARD.  375 

any  particular  kindnefs  for  that  clafs  of 
men  ? 

Temple.  I  think  they  have  a  kindnefs  to 
none  of  the  human  race  ;  every  bit  as  little 
to  thofe  to  whom  they  are  fo  prodigal  as  to 
others.  After'they  have  enjoyed  the  parade 
of  throwing  them  the  money,  they  do  not 
care  if  thofe  who  received  it  fell  and  broke 
their  necks,  or  were  hanged  the  next  day. 

Edward.  But  ftill  there  muft  be  fome 
caufe  for  this  peculiar  liberality  to  waiters 
and  poftillions ;  for  the  gentlemen  in  quef- 
tion,  thoughtlefs  as  you  think  them,  muft 
acl:  from  fome  motive  or  other. 

Temple.  It  is  not  eafy  to  account  for  any 
part  of  the  behaviour  of  thofe  whofe  ge- 
neral conduct  is  marked  with  inconfiftency. 
In  this  particular  inftance  I  think,  however, 
it  may  be  done.  You  may  have  obferved 
that  thofe  who  have  the  leaft  bufinefs  are 
often  in  the  greateft  hurry  ;  we  fee  people 
pofting  with  the  rapidity  of  couriers,  as  if 
the  fate  of  the  empire  depended  on  their 
fpeed,  who,  when  they  came  to  the  end  of 
their  journey,  have  nothing  to  do,  and  there- 
B  B  4  fore 


£  D  W  A  R  D. 

fore  return  with  the  fame  expedition  to  the 
place  from  whence  they  ftarted  :  but.  they 
cannot  have  all  this  impatience  gratified 
without  being  lavifh  to  the  drivers  ;  for 
thofe  fellows  will  not  kill  their  matter's 
horfes  for  nothing.'  Befides,  many  of  the  fine 
gentlemen  in  queftion  are  fond  of  the  cring- 
ing attention  and  prompt  fervility  of  waiters 
and  footmen,  from  fome  of  whom  com- 
mon civility  is  no  more  to  be  had,  without 
bribery,  than  the  fuffrages  of  venal  voters  at 
an  election.  Be  allured,  my  young  friend, 
that  thofe  who  lavifh  their  cafh  in  this 
manner,  or  who  rifk  great  fums  at  play, 
although,  they  do  not  apply  their  money  to 
proper  ufes,  have  no  contempt  for  it. 

Edward.  It  feems  aftoniming,that  any  man 
in  his  fenfes,  and  independent  circumftances, 
can  ri(k  that  blefled  ftate  for  the  chance 
of  attaining  any  poflible  fortune,  or  the  en- 
joyment of  the  moil  expenfive  luxuries. 

Temple.   Efpecially  as  the  moft  expenfive 

luxuries    are    not    the   pleafanteft.      The 

true  way  of  calculating  the  rifks  in  gaming 

is  not  by  the  quantity  of  money,  but  by  the 

6  quantity 


EDWARD.  377 

quantity  of  happinefs  that  is  to  be  loft  or 
gained  ;  and,  according  to  this  rule,  it  will 
appear,  that  he  who  would  ftake  ten  thou- 
fand  pounds,  being  his  whole  fortune, 
againft  a  million,  upon  an  equal  throw, 
would  make  an  imprudent  bet. 

Edward.  I  am  clearly  of  that  opinion. 
Temple.  But  if  thofe  are  blameable  who 
throw  away  their  own  fortunes  or  happi- 
nefs, what  do  you  think  of  thofe  who  rifle 
the  fortunes  of  others  ? 

Edward.    You    mean    thofe   mercantile 
adventurers,  who,  having  the  reputation  of 
being    rich,   but   confcious    that    they   are 
worth  nothing,  riik  the  money  they  have 
borrowed  in  projects  of  commerce,  which,  if 
fuccefsful,   the  gain   will  be  their's,  and  if 
otherwife,  the  lofs  is  for  their  creditors. 
Temple.   I  did  not  fpeak  of  them. 
Edward.  I  know  not,  then,  to  what  clafs 
of  men  you  allude. 

Temple.  This  Mr.  Shuffle,  whom  we 
have  juft  parted  with,  is  of  the  clafs  to 
whom  I  allude.  He  is  indebted  to  every 

friend 


378  EDWARD. 

friend  or  relation  whom  he  could  prevail  on, 
under  any  pretence,  to  lend  him  money  ;  this 
money  he  immediately  ri(ks  at  the  gaming- 
table. But,  although  he  has  been  often  fuc- 
cefsful,  and  enabled  to  pay  all  his  creditors, 
he  has  always  either  fpent  the  money  in  lux- 
urious profufion,  or  laid  it  up  in  a  fund  for 
future  gaming.  He  pays  no  legal  debt  until 
he  is  forced  by  law.  All  his  creditors  who, 
from  delicacy  or  affection,  have  abftained 
from  ufmg  thefe  means,  remain  unpaid. 
I  have  heard,  that  he  even  prevailed  on  his 
mother  to  fell  great  part  of  her  jointure,  to 
relieve  him  on  an  emergency ;  and  that  fhe 
was  reduced  to  great  difficulties,  and  neg- 
lected by  him  before  her  death.  This  plan 
of  taking  advantage  of  the  partiality  of 
friends  and  relations  is  the  bafeft  of  all  kinds 
of  fwindling  ;  and  if  thofe  who  practife  it, 
who  amount  to  a  confiderable  number 
in  this  virtuous  capital,  were  to  declare  in 
plain  Englifli  the  fentiments  on  which  their 
conduct  was  founded,  each  of  them  would 
addrefs  his  friend  or  relation  to  the  folio w- 
12  ing 


EDWARD.  379 

ing  effed  : — "  Sir,  or  Madam,  I  know  you 
have  a  greater  friendftiip  or  regard  for  me 
than  any  other  perfon  of  my  acquaintance  ; 
I  mall  therefore  cheat  you  out  of  as  much 
money  as  I  poflibly  can.  As  for  my  other  cre- 
ditors, I  mall  pay  them  all  I  owe  them,  be- 
caufe  they  would  throw  me  in  prifon  if  I  did 
not ;  but  as  you  love  me  too  much  to  pro- 
ceed to  fuch  extremities,  I  cannot  bear  the 
thoughts  of  paying  you  a  fmgle  fixpence, 
whatever  inconvenience  you  may  fuffer 
from  the  want  of  your  money." 

Edward.  I  am  filled  with  horror  ;  but  1 
cannot  help  thinking  that  what  you  "have 
heard  of  Shuffle  has  been  exaggerated  ;  I 
cannot  believe  that  any  man  on  earth  could 
aftfo. 

Temple.  I  mould  be  happy  to  think,  my 
dear  Edward,  that  you  would  be  of  your 
prefent  opinion  twenty  years  hence. 

Edtvard.  At  all  events  I  will  warn  Car- 
naby,  and  put  him  on  his  guard  againft 
Shuffle. 

Temple. 


380  E  'D  W  A  R  D. 

Temple.  He  will  not  prbfit  by  your 
warning  ;  he  is  too  -vain,  and  too  felf-fuf- 
ficient. 

Edward*  I  know  Mr.  Shadow  to  be 
rather  a  weak  man,  and  fomewhat  of  a 
fop  ;  but  I  do  not  think  him  vicious  or  un- 
feeling. 

'Temple.  There  are  exceptions,  no  doubt ; 
but  in  general  nothing  is  more  unfeeling 
than  a  fop,  nor  any  animal  more  com- 
pletely felfifh.  I  have  feen  one  of  them 
grudge  a  crown  to  a  tradefman,  and  the 
next  minute  pay  three  guineas  with  plea- 
fure  for  a  fwitch.  I  have  known  another 
call  every  day  for  a  fortnight  to  obferve  the 
progrefs  of  a  new  phaeton  he  had  ordered 
to  be  built,  while  he  was  with  difficulty 
prevailed  on  to  pay  a  fingle  vifit  to  a  friend 
confined  with  illnefs.  A  ball,  a  horfe-race, 
a  new  dancer,  the  lateft  fafhion,  intereft 
him  more  than  any  thing  of  real  import- 
ance. The  mind  of  a  fop,  regardlefs  of 
what  is  valuable,  attaches  itfelf  to  thofe 
trifling  objects  only  which  the  vortex  of 

fafhion 


EDWARD.  381 

fafhion  whirls  within  its  reach.  Nothing 
of  moment  can  adhere  to  what  is  fo  eflen- 
tially  flimfy,  like  rubbed  amber,  which, 
without  influencing  any  fubftance  of 
weight,  attracts  all  the  ftraws  and  chaffs 
that  are  near  it. 


382  E  D  W  A  R  D. 


CHAP.     XXXVII. 

Inter  caufas  malorum  noftrorum  eft,  quod  vivimus  ad 
fxemplum,  nee  ratione  componimur,  fed  confuetudine  ab- 
ducimur.  SENEC.  EPIST. 

E  converfation  having  been  inter- 
rupted  by  the  change  of  horfes,  a  long 
filence  took  place,  during  which  Edward  was 
abforbed  in  thought ;  at  length  Mr.  Temple 
faid,  "  I  perceive  we  are  near  the  end  of  our 
journey,  but  before  we  feparate,  I  feel  my- 
felf  difpofed.  to  give  you  a  little  advice,  if 
you  are  in  the  humour  of  receiving  it." 

Edward  beginning  to  declare  how  much 
he  fhould  think  himfelf  obliged,  Mr.  Tem- 
ple1 added,  "  Advice,  you  know,  my  dear 
fellow,  is  a  kind  of  commodity  which  peo- 
ple in  general  are  more  apt  to  give  than 
willing  to  receive — it  cofts  nothing. 

Edivard.  Forgive  me — That  experience 
which  enables  a  perfon  to  give  good  advice 
may  have  coft  a  great  deal. 

Temple. 


EDWARD.  383 

Temple.  The  beftowing  it,  however,  does 
not  make  a  man  the  poorer. 

Edward.  It  may  be  a  very  valuable  pre- 
fent,  notwithftanding ;  for,  (afluming  fome- 
what  of  a  theatrical  accent,)  "  He  that  gives 
me  good  advice,  gives  that  which,  not  im- 
poveriming  him,  may  make  me  rich  in- 
deed." 

Temple.  It  were  a  thoufand  pities  not  to 
make  you  rich,  fmce  you  think  you  can  be 
fo  at  fo  cheap  a  rate. 

Edward.   I  am  all  attention. 

Temple.  To  begin  then,  I  advife  you  to 
avoid  gaming. 

Edward.    Gaming  ! 

Temple.   Yes,  and  drinking. 

Edward.  Why  I  have  not  the  fmalleft 
tafte  for  either. 

Temple.    I  know  it. 

Edward.  How  then  can  you  think  it 
necefTary  to  caution  me  againft  them  ? 

Temple.  Becaufe  the  caution  may  be 
ufeful. 

Edward.  Againft  gaming  and  drinking! 

Temple. 


384  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

Temple.    Yes,  gaming  and  drinking  ; 
Hsec  funt  quse  noftra  liceat  te  voce  moneri. 

Ecfavard.  You  fay  that  you  know  that  I 
have  no  tafte  for  them  ? 

Temple.  And  therefore  I  think  it  may  be 
of  life  to  caution  you  againft  that  complai- 
fance  to  the  tafte  of  others,  which,  by  habit, 
creates  a  tafte,  where  it  did  not  before 
exift  ;  becaufe  \vhen  allowed  to  grow  and 
take  root  by  habit,  all  caution  is  fuperfluous. 
I  have  lived  thus  long  in  the  'world,  and 
have  known  few  inftances  of  gamefters 
leaving  ofTplay,  until  both  their  money  and 
credit  were  exhaufted  ;  and  hardly  one 
drunkard  who  ever  reformed. 

Edward.  I  have  fuch  an  averflon  to  one, 
and  fo  little  propenfity  to  the  other,  that  I 
fhall  have  no  occafion  for  exercifing  the 
virtue  of  felf-denial  in  abftaining  from 
both. 

Temple.  Perhaps  not  yet.  I  have  known 
young  men  who,  at  your  time  of  life,  feemed 
to  have  an  averfion  to  the  one,  and  no  tafte 
for  the  other ;  and,  by  keeping  company 

with. 


EDWARD.  385 

with  gamefters  and  drunkards,  became  the 
victims  of  drinking  and  gaming.  I  re- 
member this  poor  fellow  Myrtle  a  fprightly 
young  man,  not  in  the  lead  addicted  to 
drinking,  until  from  mere  eafmefs  of  difpo- 
fition,  and  a  dread  of  ridicule,  he  fwallowed 
every  night  a  greater  quantity  of  wine  than 
he  liked,  in  compliance  with  the  felicitation 
of  thofe  who  liked  a  greater  quantity  of 
wine  than  he  could  fwallow  ;  and,  to  avoid 
the  imputation  of  a  milk-fop,  he  has  be- 
come a  fot. 

"  His  companion  Mr.  Shuffle  was  origi* 
nally  fond  of  hunting  and  country  amufe* 
ments,  lived  a  good  deal  on  his  eftate  in  the 
country,  and  (hewed  no  tafte  for  gaming  be- 
yond a  moderate  bet  on  a  cricket  match  ;  but 
being  elected  a  member  of  a  club,  where  he 
was  often  witnefs  to  very  deep  play,  and 
tempted  with  the  eafe  and  expedition  with 
which  he  faw  money  acquired  by  fomeof  his 
acquaintance,  he  felt  a  defire  of  imitating 
them ;  the  confequence  of  which  was,  his  lof- 
ing  a  fum  which  diftrefted  him  confiderably 
to  pay ;  this  he  determined  to  recover,  and 

YOL.  i.  c  c  then 


386  EDWARD. 

then  to  quit  gaming  for  ever.  He  began 
the  attempt,  I  have  been  told,  with  caution, 
but  being  laughed  at  for  refufmg  deep  bets, 
where  he  was  allured  the  chance  was  in  his 
favour,  and  feeing  thofe  who  accepted  them 
admired  for  their  fpirit,  he  caught  more 
courage,  increafed  in  fpirit  every  night,  and 
at  length  had  fpirit  enough  to  lofe  his  whole 
fortune.  Of  late,  I  understand,  he  has  been 
more  lucky,  and  is  now  fomewhat  raifed  in 
point  of  circumftances,  but  greatly  funk  in 
that  of  reputation.  In  fhort,  my  dear  Ed- 
ward, I  am  convinced  that  although  there 
are  excefTes  into  which  young  men  are 
fometimes  led,  from  too  great  indulgence 
to  natural  propensities,  thofe  of  drinking 
and  gaming  are  not  of  the  number.  To  ac- 
quire a  tafle  for  the  one,  a  ftrong  reluctance 
muft  be  overcome  ;  and  the  other,  being  a 
continual  exercife  of  the  paffion  of  avarice, 
cannot  be  fuppofed  natural  to  youth  ;  yet, 
when  acquired,  they  engrofs  every  faculty 
of  the  mind,  rule  with  the  mod  tyrannic 
fway,  and  often  lead  to  debafement,  infamy, 
and  ruin.  It  is,  therefore,  before  the  tafte  is 

acquired, 


EDWARD.  387 

acquired,  and  while  the  reluctance  is  unfub- 
dued,  that  advice  and  Warning  can  be  of  any 
utility;  and  one  of  the  mod  important  pieces 
of  advice  that  can  be  given  to  the  genera- 
lity of  young  men  at  their  entrance  into  life  is, 
that  they  do  not  facrifice  their  own  taftes  to 
thofe  of  others.   This  is  the  more  requifite, 
becaufe  that  modefty  and  diffidence,  which 
belongs  to  men  of  the  moft  amiable  charac- 
ter, inclines  them  to  give  up  their  own  judg- 
ment to  perfons  of  higher  felf-fufficiency 
and     inferior    understandings.      And    we 
daily  fee   thofe  who  are  fond  of  the  ex- 
ercife  of  reafon,  and  have  pleafure  in  re- 
flection, facrifice  their  reafon  in  complaifance 
to  men  who  cannot  bear  their  own  thoughts, 
and  are  never  comfortable  until  they  have 
drowned  reflection.     We  alfofee  thofe  who 
are  formed  for  the  enjoyment  of  fociety,  and 
who  covet  nobody's  money,  led  into  gaming 
by  men  who  have  no  enjoyment  but  play. 
People  of  weak  characters,  who  are  the  moft 
ready,  ought  to  be  the  moft  (hy  to  imitate 
others;  for   as  valetudinarians,  who  have 
c  c   2  not 


•     E  D  W  A  -R  D. 

not  ftrength  of  conftitution  to  throw  off 
their  old  difeafes,  are  in  the  greateft  danger 
of  finking  under  a  new  contagion  ;  fo  thofe 
who  have  not  ftrength  of  mind  to  correct 
their  own  foibles,  are  the  moft  likely  to  re- 
tain every  frefh  ridicule  or  fafhionable  fop- 
pery that   they  once   adopt.     As  for  my 
own  part,  I  have  fuch  a  defpicable  opinion 
of  thejervum  pecus  imitatorum^  that  I  fhould 
think  it  lefs  contemptible  to  be  an  original 
than  a  copy,  even  in  things  reprehenfible ; 
and  if  I  fhould  ever  become  a  drunkard,  it 
fliall  be  becaufe  I  myfelf  find  pleafure  in  the 
tafte  and  effect  of  wine,  and  not  becaufe 
other  people  do ;  or,  if  I  fhall  ever  rifk  my 
money  at  play,  it  lhall  be  when  I  myfelf 
become   covetous,    and   not  becaufe    Mr. 
Shuffle,  or  any  other  of  my  acquaintance, 
is  fo.    On  the  fame  principle,  when  I  be- 
come a  faunterer  from  one  public  place  of 
entertainment  to  another,  it  (hall  be  after 
I  have  loft  all  tafte  for  ftudy  and  conver- 
fation,  and  not  merely  in  imitation  of  Mr* 

Carnaby 


EDWARD.  389 

Carnaby  Shadow,  and  fafhionable  people  of 
the  fame  caft. 

"  There  is  yet  another  fpecies  of  imi- 
tation, my  dear  Edward,  which  has  ruined 
greater  numbers  than  ail  the  reft  put  to- 
gether ;  that  is,  when  the  poor  imitate  the 
wealthy.  A  man  in  confined  circum- 
ftances  may  be  placed  in  fituations,  no 
doubt,  where  there  is  a  call  for  fpending 
more  than  he  can  afford ;  in  that  cafe,  he 
muft  yield,  with  a  good  grace,  to  the  ne- 
ceffity  ;  and,  afterwards,  he  muft  have  the 
firmnefs  to  retrench  his  expences  till  the 
cxcefs  is  compenfated;  but  he  muft  through 
life  refift  the  felicitations  of  thoughtlefs 
profligates,  and  the  unfeeling  rich,  who 
fee  the  diftrefs  of  their  acquaintance  with 
indifference,  to  whom  the  expence  that 
ruins  him  is  a  trifle,  and  who  will  be  the 
firft  to  abandon  and  laugh  at  him,  after 
leading  him  to  the  door  of  a  jail. 

"  Here,    my    dear   Edward,   ends    our 

journey  and  my  tedious  lecture  ;  but  if  you 

will  come  and  dine  with  me  to-morrow, 

g  C  3  I  pro- 


390  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

I  promife  you  a  bit  of  mutton  and  a  bottle 
of  excellent  claret,  without  a  morfel  of 
advice." 

To  this  propofal  Edward  willingly  af- 
fented,  and,  calling  a  coach,  ftepped  into  it, 
and  drove  to  his  chamber?. 


EDWARD. 


39* 


CHAP.     XXXVIII. 

Self-love  thus  pufh'd  to  focial,   to  divine, 

Gives  thee  tc  make  thy  neighbour's  bleffing  thinr 


HE  following  morning  Edward  called  on 
Mr.  Temple  before  breakfaft,  telling 
him  that  he  felt  an  inclination  to"  accom- 
pany him  to  the  father  of  the  poor  woman 
who  had  married  the  failor,  that  they  might 
unite  their  endeavours  to  prevail  on  the 
man  to  be  reconciled  to  his  daughter. 

"  I  fancy  I  am  indebted  for  this  early 
vifit  to  your  fufpecting  I  had  forgot  the 
failor's  wife,"  faid  Mr.  Temple.  "  I  thank 
you  very  cordially,  my  young  friend,  for 
reminding  me  of  this  engagement  ;  we  fhall 
go  together  after  breakfaft,  for  although  I 
hope  it  would  not  have  efcaped  me,  the 
fooner  a  duty  of  this  kind  is  performed  the 
better.'1 

r  c  4  They 


392  EDWARD. 

They   went   accordingly.      The   matter 
being  abfent,    Mr.  Temple  told  the  butler 
that  his  principal  bufmefs  was  with  himfelf, 
and  regarded  a  virtuous  woman  to  whom 
any  man  in  England  might  be  proud  of 
being  related.     He  proceeded  to  mention 
his  daughter  in  terms  of  the  higheft  regard; 
both  he  and  Edward  put  her  affectionate 
behaviour  to  her  child,   and  the  whole  of 
her  conduct,  in  fuch  a  light,  that  the  man 
xvas  entirely  foftened,  and  having  expreffed 
a  deiire   of   feeing  her,   Mr.  Temple  took 
him  into  his  carriage,  and  drove  directly 
to  the  houfe  of  the  mother-in-law  in  Hoi- 
born,   where  they  found  the  failor's  wife 
with  her  child.     It  foon  appeared  that  the 
butler's  cruelty  had  not  proceeded  from  an 
unfeeling  heart,  but  from  a  fudden  guft  of 
pride,  which  had  frozen  his  natural  affec- 
tion, joined  to  an  obftinate  temper,  which 
made  him  punifh  himfelf  rather  than  not 
punifh  a  daughter  whom  he  loved.     The 
perfuafion  of  Mr.  Temple  overcame  his  ob- 
ftinacy ;  the  fight  of  his  daughter  melted 
his  heart ;  and  the  man's  affections  flowed 
5  in 


EDWARD.  393 

in  their  natural  courfe,  and  with  augmented 
force.  From  this  time  he  took  more  delight 
than  ever  in  the  company  of  his  daughter; 
he  became  very  fond  of  his  grandfon ;  he 
rendered  the  old  woman's  fituation  more 
comfortable ;  his  own  life  became  much 
happier;  and  he  fmcerely  joined  the  mo- 
ther and  wife  in  wifhing  for  the  fafe  return 
of  the  failor ;  in  which  wifh  they  were  all 
gratified  the  following  year. 

When  they  withdrew  from  the  reiterated 
blefiings  of  this  happy  family,  Mr.  Temple 
having  reminded  Edward  that  he  would 
expert  to  fee  him  at  dinner,  waited  on  the 
Matter  General  of  the  Ordnance,  and  had 
the  fatisfaction  of  fucceeding  in  his  applica- 
tion for  the  fon  of  the  officer's  widow. 
Mr.  Temple,  impatient  to  communicate 
this  good  news  to  the  mother,  drove  to  her 
lodgings  in  the  city,  and  informed  her  that 
her  fon  would  be  received  into  the  Academy 
as  foon  as  he  mould  prefent  himfelf. 

Mr.  Temple,  having  enjoyed  the  happinefs 
which  this  information  conveyed  to  the 
Lady,  was  taking  his  leave,  but  fhe  prefled 

him 


394-  EDWARD. 

him  to  ftay  until  her  fon,  whom  (lie  exped- 
ed  every  minute,  fhould  return.  Mr.  Tem- 
ple faid  that  he  would  find  fome  other  op- 
portunity of  feeing  the  young  gentleman  ; 
but  he  muft  deny  himfelf  that  fatisfadion  at 
prefent,  becaufe  he  had  bufmefs  to  tranfacl: 
before  dinner.  The  Lady  feemed  much 
difappointed  in  the  thought  of  his  not 
feeing  her  fon  ;  "  For  I  am  fare,  faid  (lie, 
it  would  afford  you  fatisfaclion  to  find  that 
the  perfon  for  whom  you  have  fo  generoufly 
interefled  yourfelf,  is  one  of  the  braveft, 
worthieft,  fweeteft  youths  in  the  world.'* 

Mr.  Temple  could  not  comprehend  how 
he  fhould  find  all  this  in  the  young  man's 
appearance ;  but  he  plainly  perceived  that 
the  mother  was  convinced  of  it,  and  that 
{he  would  be  mortified  if  he  did  not  fee 
her  fon  ;  he  therefore  ftayed  until  the  youth 
arrived.  There  certainly  was  nothing  very 
interesting  in  his  face,  perfon,  or  manner. 
The  Lady  prefented  him  to  Mr.  Temple 
with,  exultation  ;  he  received  the  young 
man  with  every  mark  of  kindnefs ;  afked 
him  a  few  queftions ;  gave  him  fome  in- 

ftrudicns 


EDWARD.  395 

ftru£tions  refpeding  his  conduct  at  the  Aca- 
demy, and  congratulated  the  Lady  on  her 
having  fo  fine  a  young  man  for  'her  fon. 
He  then  left  her  the  happieft  woman  in 
England,  and  pretty  well  convinced  that 
her  fon,  if  he  lived,  would  become  one  of 
the  beft  engineers  in  the  fervice,  and  might 
not  improbably  one  day  be  at  the  head 
of  the  Board  of*  Ordnance.  Thole  of  the 
readers  who  have  no  children  may  fufpect 
that  this  Lady  was  a  very  foolifh  woman ; 
but  thofe  who  are  mothers  will  allow  that 
{he  may  have  dill  been  a  woman  of  good 
fenfe. 

When  Mr.  Temple  arrived  at  his  own 
houfe,  he  found  that  Edward  had  been 
waiting  above  an  hour. 

"  I  wifliyou  joy,"  faid  Edward,  «  for  I 
fee  by  the  cheerfulnefs  of  your  countenance 
that  you  have  been  fuccefsful." 

"  That  I  have,"  replied  Mr.  Temple  ; 
"  and  I  fhall  fit  down  to  dinner  with  very 
great  fatisfaclion."  He  then  recounted  the 
particulars  of  his  vifit  to  the  oiTicer*s  wi«. 
dow. 

i  "  How 


396  EDWARD, 

"  How  fortunate  was  it,"  faid  Edward, 
"  that  you  chanced  to  ftop  at  the  inn  ;  and 
how  grateful  ought  you  to  be,  my  good  Sir, 
to  poor  Joe  the  carpenter,  and  to  this  Lady, 
for  affording  you  the  mearxs  of  fo  much 
enjoyment." 

"  I  confefs  it,"  rejoined  Mr*  Temple-; 
**  both  you  and  1  muft  have  a  partiality  for 
thofe  who  in  any  way  contribute  to  our 
happinefs.  The  recollection  of  having  been 
of  fervice  to  that  worthy  lad  and  his  aunt,  as 
well  as  to  the  Lady  and  her  fon,  conveys  a 
pleafmg  kind  of  fenfation,  which  I  cannot 
cxprefs." 

"  Shakefpeare  could,"  replied  Edward  ; 
"  it  comes  over  the  heart  as  foft  mufic  docs 
over  the  ear ; 

•    '        Like  the  fvveet  fouth, 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets:* 

"  It  is  moft  fortunate  for  men  to  hava 
hearts  fo  framed  that  they  derive  pleafure 
from  fuch  recollections.  Men  of  that  con- 
ftrudion  are  ftimulated  to  do  good  to  others 
for  their  own  fake." 

"Do 


£  D  W  A  R  D.  397 

"  Do  you  not  think,"  replied  Edward, 
44  that  fuch  a  motive  degrades  benevolence  ? 
I  fhould  love  to  find  fome  nobler  motive  for 
doing  good." 

"  Find  as  many  motives  for  doing  good 
as  you  can,  my  dear  Edward ;  but  1  hope 
you  will  never  lofe  that  one  ;  becaufe  I  take 
it  to  be  the  moft  adive  and  the  moft 
certain." 

This  led  to  fome  difquifitions,  much  too 
abftrad  for  our  purpofe,  and  which,  after 
the  two  friends  had  agitated  a  long  time, 
they  left  as  they  began,  without  coming  to 
any  fatisfadory  conclufion ;  but  as  we  have 
no  wifh 

On  metaphyfic  ground  to  prance, 

To  fhew  our  paces,  not  one  ftep  advance, 

we  have  determined  to  omit  the  reft  of  this 
dialogue. 


EDWARD. 


CHAP.     XXXIX. 

The  f*e!l  of  pity  not  to  be  confin'd 
WitSjin  the  fcanty  limits  of  the  mind, 
Difdains  the  bank,  and  throws  the  golden  fands 
A  rich  depofit,  on  the  bordering  lands. 

CowrER. 

\X7HEN  Edward  returned  to  his  chambers 
in  the  evening,  he  found  a  letter, 
containing  a  very  preffing  demand  of  pay- 
ment for  an  account  which  had  been  due  a 
confiderable  time.  On  one  or  two  occa- 
fions,  before  he  left  the  Univerfity,  he  had 
exhaufted  the  whole  of  what  he  was  allowed 
for  expences  before  a  third  of  the  term  for 
which  they  were  deftined  was  expired ; 
this  was  partly  owing  to  his  having  been 
led  into  fome  parties  which  he  ought  to 
have  avoided,  arid  partly  to  his  having  paid 
more  attention  to  the  voice  of  chanty  and 
benevolence  than  to  the  ftate  of  his  finances  j 
but  on  all  thefe  occafions  he  had  contrived 

to 


EDWARD.  399 

to  balance  his  profufion  at  the  beginning  of 
the  term  with  fuch  rigid  ceconomy  at  the 
end  of  it,  as  to  preclude  the  neceffity  of 
applying  for  any  other  afliftance.  In  the 
particular  inftance  mentioned  above,  where, 
by  the  fraud  of  a  companion,  he  was  in- 
volved in  a  much  larger  debt  than  he  had 
ever  been  before,  he  had  prevailed  on  his 
principal  creditor  to  be  fatisned  with  a  par- 
tial payment  every  three  months,  until  the 
whole  debt  fhould  be  extinguifhed  ;  but  on 
this  man's  death  the  truftees  for  his  children 
had  ordered  the  letter  to  be  written  which 
Edward  found  at  his  chambers  on  his  return 
from  Mr.  Temple's. 

The  perufal  of  this  epiftle  difturbed  Ed- 
ward greatly.  The  very  laft  time  he  had 
been  at  Barnet-hall  he  had  heard  Mr.  Barnet 
complaining  bitterly  of  certain  demands  of 
money  which  had  come  unexpectedly. 
This  he  was  apt  to  do  from  habit ;  for  his 
wife  had  entirely  arranged  his  affairs,  and 
his  expenditure  was  now  confiderably  un- 
der his  income.  But  Edward  thought  with 
horror  on  any  unufual  demand  being  made 

on 


400  EDWARD. 

on  his  account,  and  confidered  his  having 
riiked  the  money  of  his  benefadors,  and 
putting  them  to  any  inconveniency,  not 
merely  as  imprudent,  but  as  ungrateful. 
This  young  man  having  during  his  child- 
hood been  plunged  in  adverfity,  was  invul- 
nerable to  many  blows  and  crofs  accidents 
under  which  the  profperous  and  effeminate 
would  have  funk.  The  misfortunes  of  his 
birth  had  peculiarly  expofed  him  to  the 
feoff  of  pride  and  the  idiot  iheer  of  wealth; 
thefe,  however,  he  knew  how  to  repel,  and 
had  learned  to  defpife ;  but  remorfe  was  a 
feeling  to  which  he  was  unaccuflomed,  and 
it  preyed  on  his  mind  with  extreme  acute- 
nefs.  Some  parts  of  Mr.  Temple's  conver- 
fation  on  their  return  from  the  country, 
had  awakened  feelings  of  that  nature. 
Among  other  things  he  had  faid,  that  thofe 
•who  offered  to  be  charitable  or  generous  at 
the  expence  of  others^  •were  not  charitable 
nor  generous  at  all.  The  letter  which  Ed- 
ward now  found  at  his  chambers  renewed 
and  augmented  his  difquietude,  and  brought 
Mr.  Temple's  obfervation  with  pain  into 

his 


EDWARD.  401 

Ms  recollection.  What  Mr.  Temple  had 
intended  as  a  warning,  Edward  took  for  a 
reproof:  however  juft,  delicate,  and  well- 
meant  a  remonftrance  may  be,  it  is  apt  to 
create  diflike  to  the  giver  in  the  breaft  of 
the  perfon  to  whom  it  is  given ;  not  only 
becaufe  it  has  an  air  of  fuperiority,  but  alfo 
becaufe  it  conveys  the  painful  fentiment  of 
klf-condemnation.  We  often  fee  the  minds 
of  people  of  this  unhappy  fpecies  of  fenfi- 
bility  alienated  from  their  beft  friends,  their 
benefactors,  even  their  parents,  merely  be- 
caufe they  cannot  bear  the  lead  implication 
of  cenfure  ;  and  this  is  ftill  more  infupport- 
able  if  it  comes  from  thofe  to  whom  we 
have  rendered  good  offices. 

Although  Mr.  Temple  was  perhaps  the 
hrft  who  ever  gave  Edward  the  irkfome 
feeling  above  mentioned,  it  had  an  oppo- 
fite  effect  on  his  mind  ;  he  faw  the  friendly 
motive  from  which  it  fprung,  and  he  re- 
jected every  other  fuggeftion  ;  he  confider- 
ed  Mr.  Temple  more  than  ever  as  his  friend. 
Several  pretty  ftrong  proofs  of  this  young 
man's  ftrength  of  mind  have  been  given, 

VOL.  i.  £  D  but 


402  EDWARD. 

but  none  perhaps  fo  ftrong  and  fo  uncom- 
mon as  this.  He  waited  on  Mr.  Temple 
the  following  day,  and  with  many  expref- 
fions  of  blame  of  his  own  mifconduft,  he- 
unfolded  the  nature  of  his  embarraflments. 
Mr.  Temple  interrupted  his  felf-accufation,. 
and  faid  every  thing  that  could  alleviate  his 
uneafmefs.  "As  for  thefum  you  are  in  imme- 
diate need  of,  fo  far  from  being  inconvenient 
for  me,  my  dear  lad,"  faid  Mr.  Temple,  "  I 
muft  inform  you  that  I  am  richer  now  than 
ever."  He  then  related  his  extraordinary 
good  fortune  in  obtaining  the  living  ;  "  for 
which,"  added  he,  "  I  am  indebted  to 
fome  unknown  benefactor  j  becaufe  being 
unacquainted  with  the  nobleman  who  gave 
it  me,  notwithftanding  his  polite  intimation 
that  he  was  prompted  entirely  by  my  gene-  % 
ral  reputation,  I  am  convinced  it  originates 
in  fome  particular  recommendation  ;  but  be 
that  as  it  may,  it  enables  me  to  advance 
double  the  fum  you  need,  and  here  it  is." 

Edward   having   thanked    Mr.  Temple, 
refufed  to  accept  of  more  than  the  precife 

funv 


EDWARD.  403 

fum  he  needed,  which  he  faid  he  would 
regularly  pay  by  inftalments,  in  the  fame 
manner  he  had  arranged  with  his  former 
creditor.  When  Mr.  Temple  objected  to 
this,  Edward  faid,  "  I  am  difpleafed  with 
myfelf ;  this  is  a  fenfation,  my  good  Sir, 
that  you  are  unacquainted  with ;  but,  take 
my  word  for  it,  it  is  not  pleafant,  and  I 
am  refolved  to  get  free  from  it  as  foon  as 
I  can ;  but  in  my  opinion  that  cannot  be 
done  in  any  other  way  than  by  bearing  the 
burden  of  my  own  imprudence  myfelf,  and 
not  by  placing  it  on  the  back  of  another." 
When  Mr.  Temple  attempted  again  to 
conteft  the  point,  and  prevail  on  him  not 
to  fubjecT:  himfelf  to  fuch  fevere  reftridions, 
Edward  anfwered  with  a  fmile,  "  Pray, 
in  this,  allow  me  my  own  way ;  why 
(hould  you  prevent  a  man,  who  is  in  dif- 
favour  with  himfelf,  from  ufmg  the  only 
means  that  can  reftore  him  to  his  own 
good  graces  ?" 

By  much  the  mofl  painful  circumftance 
in  the  execution  of  this  ceconomical  plan, 

DD    2  tO 


404  EDWARD. 

to  which  however  he  adhered  until  he  had 
accomplished  his  object,  was  its  precluding 
him  from  certain  ads  of  chanty  to  which 
he  had  been  accuftomed.  To  feclude  hiin- 
felf  from  every  other  iburce  of  expence, 
gave  him  infinitely  lefs  uneaimefs.  He  had 
kept  during  a  whole  ieaibn  from  the  opera, 
though  he  was  uncommonly  fond  of  mu- 
fic.  He  was  at  laft  prevailed  on  to  agree 
to  go  to  one  which  was  much  admired. 
While  he  was  dreffing,  he  heard  a  murmur- 
ing of  voices  in  the  paiTage  below  ;  on  in- 
quiry, he  was  told  that  it  was  occafioned  by 
a  workman  who  had  dropped  half  a  guinea 
that  he  had  jull  received  for  his  week's 
wages,  which  could  not  be  found,  and  on 
which  his  own  maintenance,  and  that  of 
his  wife  and  child,  depended.  It  immedi- 
ately ftruck  Edward  that  he  could  aiford  to 
give  the  man  the  half  guinea  by  flaying 
from  the  opera  that  night.  He  accordingly 
lent  him  the  money  and  ftaid  at  home.  On 
another  occafion,  having  been  prevailed 
on  to  promife  to  dine  at  a  tavern  with  fome 
young  men  of  whole  company  he  was  fond, 
9  he 


EDWARD.  405 

he  was  foliated  for  charity  at  the  tavern 
door  by  a  woman  with  an  infant  fuckling 
at  each  of  her  breafts,  and  two  half-naked 
children  following  her.  "  For  heaven's 
fake,  a  penny,"  faid  the  poor  woman,  "  to 
purchafe  fome  bread." — "  We  are  very 
hungry,"  cried  the  children. 

Edward  thrufting  his  hand  in  his  pocket^ 
found  he  had  juft  a  guinea,  and  no  other 
money  of  any  kind.  "  Good  heaven," 
thought  he,  "  I  am  going  to  throw  away 
the  greateft  part  of  this  on  a  dinner,  and 
it  will  maintain  this  poor  woman  and  her 
children  a  fortnight."  He  flipt  the  guinea 
into  the  poor  woman's  hand,  and  return- 
ing directly  to  his  chamber,  he  fent  an  apo- 
logy to  the  company,  and  dined  with,  more 
delight  on  a  mutton  chop  than  he  had  ever 
experienced  from  the  moft  luxurious 
dinner. 

While  Edward  had  a  free  fund  which 
enabled  him  to  perform  certain  acts  of  cha- 
rity, he  indulged  in  every  elegant  amufe- 
ment  for  which  he  had  a  tafte,  and  which 
DD  3  he 


406  EDWARD. 

he  could  comprehend  within  the  limits  oi 
his  allowance}  but  while  he  was  obliged  to 
curtail  the  firft,  he  could  not  bear  to  gratify 
himfelf  in  the  fecond  on  the  occafions  juft 
mentioned. 


EDWARD.  407 


c  H  A  P.    XL. 

L'interet  parle  Routes  fortes  de  langues,  et  joue  toutes 
Tories  de  perfonnages,  meme  celui  de  delinterefle. 

ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

*T*#E  reader  wiH  remember,  that  when 
Mr.  Temple  and  Edward  came  to 
town,  Mr.  Garnaby  Shadow  chofe  to  re- 
main at  the  inn  \  the  confequence  was,  his 
lofing  a  confiderable  fum  of  money  to  Mr. 
-Shuffle.  The  difficulties  which  this  occa- 
lioned  obliged  him  to  apply  for  a  fupply  to 
his  aunt,  a  lady  we  have  not  before  had 
occafion  to  mention.  She  was  eldeft  fitter 
to  Lady  Bab  Maukifh,  with  whom  {he  had 
quarrelled  upon  account  of  her  firft  mar- 
riage with  Mr.  Shadow,  thinking  fuch  an 
alliance  with  a  commoner  difgraceful  to 
their  family.  This  mifunderftanding  be- 
tween the  fifters  continued  until  the  death 
of  Mr.  Shadow,  when  his  widow  mewed 
fuch  an  excefs  of  affliction,  that  her  life  was 
D  D  4  faid 


4o3  E  D  W  A  R  D, 

faid  to  be  in  danger,  on  which  her  fitter, 
whofe  maiden  name  was  Virginia,  relented, 
and  made  a  vifit  to  the  difconfolate  widow. 
This  produced  a  reconciliation ;  for  Lady 
Virginia,  notwithftanding  her  family  pride, 
was  of  an  affectionate  difpofition.  In  the 
courfe  of  this  renewed  intimacy,  Lady  Vir- 
ginia became  fo  exceedingly  fond  of  her 
fitter's  Ton  Carnaby,that  their  mutual  friends 
flattered  themfelves  that  this  circumttance 
would  form  a  bond  of  permanent  union 
between  the  two  fitters  ;  and  fo  it  probably 
would,  had  not  the  wrath  of  Lady  Virginia 
been  re-kindled  in  the  moft  provoking  man- 
ner ;  for  Lady  Bab  not  only  married  ano- 
ther commoner,  but  (he  married  him  at  the 
very  time  that  her  tender-hearted  fitter 
thought  her  in  danger  of  dying  of  grief  for 
the  lofs  of  the  firft.  Her  Ladyfhip  was  fo 
{hocked  with  this  new  ftain  on  the  family, 
that  me  could  not  abftain  from  fome  ftrong 
expreflions  on  the  meannefs  of  her  fitter's 
conduct  in  the  prefence  of  her  maid,  who^ 
being  inclined  to  apologize  for  Lady  Bab, 

obferved, 


EDWARD.  409 

obferved,  "  that  although  a  Lord  was  un- 
doubtedly preferable  as  a  hufband  to  a  Com- 
moner ;  yet,  as  Lady  Bab  had  now  married 
two  Commoners,  {he  might  be  confidered  as 
on  a  footing  with  any  Lady  of  quality,  who 
had  been  the  wife  of  only  one  Lord." 

Lady  Virginia  rejected,  with  indignation, 
the  idea  of  two  Commoners  being  equiva- 
lent to  one  Lord  ;  and  her  ill-humour  was 
augmented,  becaufe  the  maid's  fuggeftion 
reminded  her,  that  her  younger  fitter  had 
been  married  twice,  xvhile  fhe  was  ftill 
without  a  hufband.  She  told  the  maid, 
therefore,  that  her  notion  of  things  was  vul- 
gar and  grofs ;  that  the  circumftance  of  her 
having  had  two  hufbands  aggravated  the 
impropriety  of  her  fitter's  conduct ;  that  the 
utmoft  length  a  woman  of  virtue  could  go, 
was  to  fubmit,  for  once  in  her  life,  to  the 
ceremony  of  matrimony,  and  all  its  odious 
confequences  ;  but  the  idea  of  two  hufbands, 
even  although  they  were  both  Peers,  would 
revolt  the  heart  of  every  woman  of  true 
delicacy. 

"Does 


4io  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

"  Does  your  Ladyfhip  believe,"  laid  the 
maid,  "  that,  befides  your  Ladylhip's  felff 
there  is  a  vaft  number  of  women  of  true 
delicacy  in  England  ?" 

Lady  Virginia,  better  pleafed  with  this 
queftion  than  fhe  had  been  with  the  maid's 
former  obfervation,  anfwered,  with  a  fmile, 
*'  That  fhe  hoped  there  were." 

This  fecond  offence  would  have  produced 
an  irreparable  oreach  between  the  fifters, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  augmenting  affection 
of  Lady  Virginia  for  her  nephew;  who,  as 
he  grew  up,  did  not  permit  her  pafiion  to 
exhale  in  fentiment,  but  brought  it  to  re- 
peated tefts,  which  a  weak  paffion  would 
not  have  flood — and  in  a  fhort  time  all  the 
money  (he  had  inverted  in  the  public  funds 
was  exhaufled.  The  principal  part  of  her 
fortune,  however,  confided  of  a  land  eflate, 
of  which  fhe  was  co-heirefs  with  her  fitter, 
a.  circumflance  which  rendered  it  difficult 
for  Lady  Virginia  to  obtain  money  on 
mortgage. 

After  Mr.  Shuffle  had  received  all  that 
lie  had  won  from  Carnaby,  he  perceived, 

that 


EDWARD.  4M 

that  whatever  his  future  fuecefs  at  play 
might  be,  difficulties  would  occur  refpedting 
the  payment  which  he  was  defirous  of  ob- 
viating, and  with  this  view  he  fuggefted  to 
the  young  man,  that  nothing  could  be  more 
ridiculous  than  for  his  mother's  and  aunt's 
fortunes  to  remain  in  their  prefent  ftate ; 
that  it  would  be  infinitely  more  convenient 
for  them,  and  for  him  alfo,  to  have  it  di- 
vided, that  each  fifter  .might  difpofe  of  her 
own  as  (he  pleafed. 

Carnaby,  being  ftruck  with  the  propriety 
of  this  friendly  hint,  without  much  difficulty 
prevailed  on  Lady  Virginia  to  permit  him 
to  make  the  propofal  to  his  mother,  who 
having  confulted  her  hufband  on  the  fub- 
jecl:,  Sir  Mathew  prefented  Carnaby  with  a 
plan  of  divifion,  by  which  he  faid  both 
fillers  would  be  accommodated,  becaufe 
Lady  Bab  would  have  the  half  which  lay 
neareft  fome  land  of  his,  while  Lady  Vir- 
ginia would  have  that  portion  which  was 
moft  valuable  in  itfelf. 

Carnaby  being  fatisfied  with  this  account 
of  the  matter,  prefented  Sir  Mathew's  plan 

to 


4i2  EDWARD. 

to  his  aunt;  but  when  fhe  fubmhted  it  to 
the  confideration  of  her  fteward,  he  affured 
her  that  Sir  Mathew  had  committed  a  mif- 
take  in  his  eftimate,  as  the  half  defUned  for 
his  fpoufe  was  not  only  the  moft  commo- 
dious from  the  circumftances  he  had  men- 
tioned, but  alfo,  by  much,  the  moil  valuable 
in  all  other  refpecls. 

Carnaby,  on  the  other  hand,  ftill  perfifted 
that  the  eftimate  was  equal  and  fair. 

The  fteward,  on  the  contrary,  aflerted, 
that  the  fuperior  value  of  Lady  Bab's 
portion'  was  fo  evident,  that  nothing  but 
Carnaby's  partiality  .for  his  mother  could 
prevent  him  from  feeing  it.  In  this  aiTer- 
tion  the  fteward  was  miftaken  ;  for  Carnaby 
really  preferred  his  aunt ;  but  the  flighted 
idea  of  conveniericy  to  himfelf  over-ba- 
lanced any  regard  he  had  for  either. 

Lady  Virginia,  being  kept  fteady  by  the 
admonitions  of  her  fteward,  and  other 
friends,withftood  her  nephew's  importunities 
in  this  inftancc,  on  which  he  left  her  difap- 
pointed,and  in  an  exceeding  ill-humour.  He 
even  aflumed  the  airs  of  an  injured  perfon; 

and 


EDWARD.  413 

and  being  convinced  that  (he  would  not  be 
able  to  fupport  his  coldnefs  and  difpleafure, 
he  refrained  from  viiiting  her.  Her  Ladyfhip- 
being  thus  deprived  of  the  pleafure  of  fee- 
ing her  affectionate  nephew,  went  to  pafs 
two  months  at  a  fafhtonable  watering-place, 
at  a  confiderable  diftance  from  London,  and 
near  the  new  living  which  Mr.  Temple  had 
fo  unexpectedly  obtained,  and  to  which  he 
had  lately  tranfported  his  whole  family,  de- 
termined to  make  it  his  chief  refidence. 

Mifs  Louifa  Barnet  accompanied  her  aunt 
on  this  occafion.  The  reader  is  already 
acquainted  with.  Mrs.  Barnet's  reafons  for 
permitting  her  daughter  to  be  often,  and 
for  confiderable  intervals,  abfent  from  her 
father's  family  ;  fhe  had  pafled  moft  of  the 
preceding  feafon  at  London  in  the  family  of 
Mrs.  Eafy,  a  woman  of  character  and  gen- 
teelly connected,  with  whofe  daughter  Mifs 
Barnet  had  formed  a  great  intimacy  at  the 
boarding- fchool.  On  this  account  Mrs. 
Eafy  had  vifited  Mrs.  Barnet,  and  entreated 
her  to  allow  her  daughter  to  pafs  fome  time 
at  her  houfe  in  town,  that  the  two  young 

ladies 


EDWARD. 

ladies  might  cultivate  the  friendfhip  which 
had  begun  at  fchool.  To  this  propofal  Mrs. 
Barnet  aflented  the  more  readily,  as  Mrs* 
Eafy  was  a  widow  Lady,  highly  efteemed 
for  the  real  worth  of  her  character,  and  the 
elegance  of  her  manners,  in  whofe  company 
Mifs  Barnet  had  opportunities  of  being  in*- 
troduced  to  the  mofl  fafhionable  aflemblies. 

The  tafte  which  the  young  lady  acquired 
for  the  amufements  of  the  capital,  during  a 
few  months  refldence  there,  rendered  thofe 
of  the  country  entirely  infipid  to  her.  Mrs. 
Barnet  obierved  this  with  much  pain  at  her 
daughter's  return  to  her  father's  houfe  ;  and 
on  Mrs.  Temple's  defiring  to  have  her 
niece's  company  at  her  new  refldence,  Mrs. 
Barnet  confented  with  pleafure,  as  a  likely 
plan  for  reconciling  her  daughter's  mind  to 
an  abfence  from  London  ;  and  alfo  becaufe 
fhe  could  not  be  in  better  company  than  in 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Temple's,  nor  in  worfe,  in 
fome  refpeds,  than  in  Mr.  Barnet's. 

Mr.  Temple's  houfe  was  fo  near  the  wa- 
tering-place, that  he  was  almoft  daily  there 
with  the  two  ladies.  And  here  the  flight 
3  acquaintance 


EDWARD. 

acquaintance  which  Mifs  Barnet  had  for- 
merly had  with  Lady  Virginia  grew  into  a 
confiderable  degree  of  intimacy.  Lady 
Virginia  was  entirely  obliged  to  her  title 
for  the  obfequious  attention  which  Mifs 
Barnet  paid  her,  and  which  won  her  Lady- 
fhip's  heart  to  fuch  a  degree,  that  fhe  would 
have  been  well  pleafed  to  fee  her  the  wife  of 
her  nephew  Mr.Carnaby  Shadow,  although  it 
had  long  been  her  earneft  wifh  that  he  fhould 
marry  a  woman  of  quality,  and  by  that 
means  drminifh  that  corruption  of  blood 
derived  from  his  father,  which  was  to  'be 
tranfmitted  to  his  own  innocent  children. 
Independent  of  Mifs  Barnet's  beauty  and 
accomplifhments,  Lady  Virginia  was  in- 
duced to  make  this  facrifice,  in  confideratiorr 
of  the  young  lady's  being  the  reputed  heirefs 
of  a  greater  fortune  than  any  unmarried 
woman  of  quality  of  her  acquaintance. 
From  the  inftant  that  this  idea  ftruck  her, 
me  took  every  opportunity  of  founding  the 
praifes  of  her  nephew  in  the  ears  of  Mifs 
Barnet,  defcribing  him  as  the  moft  elegant, 

handfome, 


416  EDWARD. 

handfome,  and  accomplished  youth  in  Eng- 
land. The  young  lady,  however,  had  feen 
Mr.  Carnaby  once  or  twice  at  iome  aflem- 
blies  in  the  capital,  and  had  formed  a  juft 
enough  notion  of  his  value.  As  fhe  heard 
the  exaggerated  praifes  of  the  aunt  with  a 
fmiling countenance,  interrupting  them  only 
with  the  interjections — Admirable  !  Really  ! 
Wonderful !  and  the  like,  Lady  Virginia 
was  periuaded  that  the  young  Lady's  ima- 
gination was  already  warmed  in  favour  of 
Carnaby,  who,  fhe  thought,  had  only  to 
appear,  that  he  might  fecure  his  conqueft 
over  Mifs  Barnet's  heart.  In  this  perfuafion 
Ihe  wrote  to  her  nephew.  Carnaby  re- 
ceived jhe  letter  juft  as  he  had  pulled  en 
his  boots  preparatory  to  his  morning  lounge 
in  Bond-ftreet. 

"  O  ho  !"  cried  he,  as  the  letter  was  de- 
livered to  him  ;  "  this  comes  from  the  old 
girl ;  I  thought  we  fhould  hear  from  her 
foon  ;  let  us  fee  what  (he  has  to  fay." 
Carnaby  then  read  Lady  Virginia's  letter, 
commenting  on  it  as  he  read  in  the  follow- 
ing manner : — 

"My 


EDWARD.  4I7 

"  My  dear  nephew,'*  (Damned  dear,  to 
be  fure,  when  you  refufed  Sir  Mathew's 
plan  of  divifion,  faid  he ;  and  then  recom- 
menced the  reading  as  follows:) 

"  My  dear  nephew,  Notwithftanding  your 
late  unkind  behaviour,  I  have  never  ceafed 
to  be  your  friend,  and  to  think  how  I 
might  be  of  the  moft  effe&ual  fervice  to 
you,  of  which  I  will  give  you  a  convincing 
proof,  if  you  will  fet  out  for  this  place  as 
foon  as  you  receive  this  letter.*'  (So,  fo, 
faid  Carnaby,  interrupting  the  reading,  I 
fuppofe  fhe  has  come  round  at  laft,  and  is  to 
confent  to  the  divifion — Well,  let  us  go  on.) 
u  What  I  have  to  communicate  is  of  the 
greateft  importance  to  your  happinefs  and 
fortune  5" — (Ay,  to  be  fure  it  is  j)  *  but," — 
(But — what  the  devil  is  this  ?) "  but  I  refrain 
from  mentioning  it  nowj"  (Why  the  deuce 
fhould  fhe  refrain  mentioning  what  is 
of  fo  much  importance  ?)  tc  becaufe  it  h 
of  a  nature  not  to  be  trufted  on  paper." 
(The  deed  of  divifion,  undoubtedly,  muft 
be  written  on  parchment,  but  fhe  might 
have  faid,  on  paper •,  that  Ihe  would  agree  to 

VOL.  I.  E  E  it.) 


E  D  W  A  R  D. 

it.)  "  Befides,  if  I  fhould  inform  you  now, 
you  might  mention  it  to  fomebody  before 
you  left  town."  (  Weil,  and  what  if  I 
did  ?)  u  But  that  which  I  have  to  propofe 
to  you  ought  to  be  kept  a  profound  fecret, 
until  it  is  concluded."  ( I  fee  no  great  ufc 
for  that.)  cc  And  you  know,  my  dear 
Cirnaby,  that  you  never  could  keep  a 
fecret  in  your  life."  (  Nor  you  neither, 
my  dear  Lady  Virginia  ;  indeed,  I  am  a 
little  furpifed  at  your  being  able  to  keep  this 
bottled  up  till  you  fee  me  ;  it  would  have 
been  more  in  character,  if  you  had  poured 
it  all  forth  on  the  paper  before  you  folded 
it  up.  But  what  is  this?  faid  he,  looking 
at  the  bottom  of  the  page,  and  feeing  the 
words  turn  over.  Here  is  more !  He 
then  read  on  the  other  page  :)  "  On  fecond 
thoughts,  I  cannot  bear  to  keep  you  in  fuf- 
pence  ;  I  will,  therefore,  inform  you  of  this 
bufmefs  without  any  farther  delay ;  for  I 
know  you  are  naturally  impatient," 
(.Curfe  the  woman,  why  does  not  (lie  out 
with  it  ?)  <c  and  always  was  fo  ever  fince 
your  childhood ;"  (  Egad,  fhe  will  con- 
tinue 


EDWARD.  419 

tinue  prattling  till  the  end  of  the  paper  ;  and, 
perhaps,  forget  the  fecret  at  laft.  But  let 
us  fee,  where  was  I  ?)  "  ever  fmce  your 
childhood  ;  which  difpofition  you  inherited 
from  my  dear  father,  who  was  reckoned 
one  of  the  moft  impatient  Peers  of  the 
realm,  particularly  before  dinner  ;"— 
( Zounds !  this  is  what  the  Duchefs  of 
.  calls  Clijh-ma  claiver.  Well,  what 

comes  next  ?)  "  although  his  Lordfhip  was  a 
man  of  dignified  deportment,  and  a  philofo- 
phical  turn  when  he  was  not  rendered 
peevifli  and  pafiionate  by  hunger  or  contra- 
diction ;  two  things  he  never  could  bear. 
Well,  the  fecret  I  have  to  communicate  to 
you  is  neither  more  nor  lefs  than  this," 
(Thank  heaven,  here  it  comes  at  laft!)  "that 
you  may,  if  you  pleafe,  have  a  beautiful 
young  Lady,  with  a  great  fortune,  in  mar- 
riage; for  I  have  already  prepoflefied  her  en- 
tirely in  your  favour  ;"  (Well,  who  the  devil 
is  this  beautiful  young  Lady?  O  !  here  fhe  is ;) 
*'  and  this  young  Lady  is  Mifs  Louifa  Barnet, 
who,  befides  her  beauty  and  fortune,  is  en- 
£  £  2  dowed 


4ao  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

dowed  with  many  accomplifhments.   That 
fhe  is  not  of  noble  birth,  but  of  mere  city 
extraction,   is,  doubtlefs,   to  be  regretted," 
(I  thought  that  would  be   a  rub,)    parti- 
cularly by  you,  my  dear,  whofe  blood  is  con- 
taminated from  the  fame  polluted  fource ;" 
(Curfe  the  old  malicious  cat !}  "  for  which, 
by  the  by,  I  am  not  to  blame  ;"    (And  am 
I  ?  the  devil  is  got  into  the  woman  ;  am  I  to 
be  blamed  for  this  more  than  fhe  is  ?)  "  for, 
had  your  mother"  (Ay,  to  be  fure  my  mo- 
ther had  fome  hand  in  the  bufmefs)  fol- 
lowed my  advice,  and  married  a  Peer,  then, 
my  dear,"  (Ay,  what  then,  my  dear  ?)  "  you 
would  have  been  of  noble  blood  by  both 
your  parents  ;"  (Hem,  egad  I  am  not  quite 
fure  how  that  might  have  turned  out — let 
me    confider. — My   prefent  mother's    fon 
would  not,  in  that  cafe,  have  been  the  fon 
of  my  late  father  ;  nay,  he  might  not  have 
been  a  fon  at  all,  and  then,  the  Lord  only 
knows  what  would  have  become  of  me  ;   I 
might,  for  what  I  know,  inftead  of  a  boy, 
have   been  a  girl.     I  fhould  not  have  re- 
lifhed  that ;  for  although  I  fhould  have  been 

probably 


EDWARD.  421 

probably  a  very  pretty  girl,  and  although 
women  are  better  off  now  than  in  the  days 
of  yore,  yet  I  fancy  I  am  better  as  I  am. 
Formerly  it  was  a  terrible  bore  to  be  a 
woman  ;  now,  to  be  fure,  they  have  a  good 
deal  more  liberty ;  they  jaunt  about  every 
where  as  freely  as  the  men ;  but  ftill  I 
don't  think  I  fhould  ever  have  been  brought 
to  like  being  a  woman ;  I  could  never  have 
learnt  to  keep  my  feat  on  horfeback  with 
both  legs  on  the  fame  fide,  like  a  woman. 
Between  friends,  I  do  not  think  I  fhould 
ever  have  been  fo  difmterefted  and  fo  affec- 
tionate as  a  woman ;  I  am  convinced  I 
never  fhould  have  been  modeft  like  a  wo- 
man. Then,  there  is  the  bearing  of  chil- 
dren— ah,  that  is  the  very  devil !  It  is  clear 
I  am  much  better  as  I  am  ;  and,  upon  the 
whole,  my  dear  aunt,  I  am  better  pleafed 
that  my  mother  did  not  follow  your  ad- 
vice. But  let  us  fee  what  more  you  have 
to  fay,  added  Carnaby,  and  then  began  again 
to  read  the  letter;)  "  of  noble  blood  by  both 
your  parents  ;  but  that  opportunity  being 
now  loft,  a  marriage  with  this  young  Lady 
E  E  3  will 


422  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

will  be  very  convenient  for  you  in  you,r  pre- 
fent  circumftances,  and  ought  to  be  accom- 
pliftied  without  any  delay.*' 

"  Thank  my  flars,  I  have  reached  the  end 
at  laft,"  cried  he,  after  drawing  a  long  breath. 
Well,  upon  my  foul,  I  have  no  objection,  to 
the  old  girl's  icheme  ;  Mifs  Barnet  is  a  de- 
vilifh  pretty  girl;  Lady  Hornbury  had  her  at 
fome  of  her  aflemblies  ;  the  moft  fafhionable 
young  fellows  in  town  followed  and  admired 
her.  On  my  confcience,  I  believe  ihe.  would 
make  an  excellent  wife  ;  our  houfe  would 
be  always  full  of  the  beft  company.1* 

So  faying,  he  ordered  apoft-chaife-and- 
four,  refolving  to  fet  out  directly  on  a  vifit 
to  his  aunt. 


EDWARD.  423 


CHAP.    XLI. 

j-.'|rtifice  et  le  menfonge  font  da  grandes  marques  etc  la 
foiblefle  et  de  la  petitefie  de  1'efprit  humain,  comme 
la  faufle  monnoie  1'eft  de  la  pauvrete 

ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

1  UST  as  Mr.  Shadow  was  going.  Sir  Georg§ 
•*  Royfton  was  introduced.  Carnaby  had 
long  wifhed  to  be  on  an  intimate  footing 
with  Sir  George,  who  on  his  part  had 
rather  flighted  the  acquaintance.  His  ob- 
ject in  calling  at  prefent  was  to  learn  from 
Carnaby  what  was  become  of  the  failor's 
wife  they  hacj  feen  at  the  inn. 

Sir  George  had  been  greatly  difappointed 
by  her  not  calling  at  his  houfe  as  he  had 
expected,  and  he  now  hoped  that  Mr. 
Shadow  would  be  able  to  give  him  fome 
account  of  her. 

Carnaby  frankly  informed  him  that  he. 

had  been  inquiring  after  her  himfelf,   and 

underftood  that  Mr.  Temple  had    entirely 

£  £  4  reconciled 


424  EDWARD. 

reconciled  her  father,  under  whofe  protec- 
tion fhe  then  was  in  lodgings,  within  a  few 
doors  of  his  matter's  houfe. 

"  Damn  thofe  parfons,"  faid  Sir  George, 
on  hearing  this  account;  "  they  are  the 
moft  officious  fellows  in  the  world,  and 
continually  fp  oiling  fport." 

"  I  expect  a  piece  of  fervice  from  one  of 
them,  however,"  faid  Garnaby  ;  "  perhaps 
from  this  very  Reverend  Mr.  Temple, 
which  I  hope  will  turn  out  very  well." 

"  You  have  no  defign  to  be  married, 
have  you  ?" 

«  My  defign  is  a  fecret." 

"  If  that  be  your  project,  you  expect  a 
great  fortune  of  courfe." 

Carnaby  nodded  and  fmiled. 

"  What !    a  very  great  fortune  ?" 

Another  nod  from  Carnaby. 

This  excited  Sir  George's  curiofity,  and 
he  refolved  to  know  the  name  of  the  Lady. 

"  You  are  too  clofe  and  referved,  no 
doubt,  to  intruft  the  name  of  the  happy 
female  even  with  an  intimate  friend." 

Carnaby 


EDWARD.  425 

Carnaby  was  greatly  pleafed  to  be  in- 
formed from  fuch  good  authority,  that  he 
was  the  intimate  friend  of  a  perfon  of  fuch 
long  eftablifhed  reputation,  as  a  man  of 
fafhion  and  knowledge  of  the  town,  as  Sir 
George  Roy  (Ion. 

Carn.  Nay,  I  fhould  never  have  thought 
of  making  a  myftery  of  the  matter  to  you, 
but  the  fecret  is  my  aunt's. 

Sir  Geo.  I  fufpe&ed  as  much  ;  aunts 
and  mothers  are  wonderful  promoters  of 
matrimony.  Well,  I  can  have  no  intereft 
in  this,  my  dear  Shadow,  but  in  as  far  as 
your  happinefs  and  reputation  are  concerned, 
and  an  aunt  is  no  doubt  a  better  judge  of 
thofe  than  a  friend. 

Carn.  I  am  far  from  being  of  that 
opinion  ;  and  to  {hew  you  that  I  have  no 
kind  of  referve  with  you,  Sir  George,  I  will 
freely  tell  you  that  the  party  fhe  has  in 
view  for  me  is  Mifs  Louifa  Barnet,  who 
you  may  have  feen  laft  winter,  with  Mrs. 
and  Mifs  Eafy,  at  the  opera  and  at  fome  af- 
iemblies  ;  fhe  was  a  good  deal  admired  j  fhe 

is 


426  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

is  an  only  child,  her  father  is  very  rich, 
and  is  old  and  infirm. 

Sir  Geo.  I  remember  to  have  feenthe  girl; 
but  I  had  no  idea  of  her  being  an  enly 
child  ;  I  thought  {he  had  a- brother. 

Cam.  No,  thank  you;  if  fhe  had  a  bro- 
ther, they  fhould  juft  as  foon  perfuade  me 
to  marry  him  as  her. 

Sir  Geo.  Well,  but  are  you  fure  that 
Barnet's  fortune  is  fo  immenfe  ? 

Cam.  Of  that  there  is  no  doubt.  I  have 
heard  Sir  Mathew,  my  father-in-law,  who 
thinks  of  nothing  but  money,  and  knows 
the  ftate  of  all  old  Barnet's  affairs,  declare 
that  he  was  exceedingly  rich. 

This  account  of  Mifs  Barnet's  expecta- 
tions gave  Sir  George  the  idea  of  a  project, 
for  the  accomplishment  of  which  he  deter- 
mined to  turn  Carnaby  from  his  prefent 
purfuit. 

Sir  Geo.  You  call  Barnet  old;  I  have 
feen  the  man,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  my 
friend,  I  do  not  think  him  old  enough  for 
your  purpofe. 

Cam, 


EDWARD.  427 

Cam.  He  is  very  infirm,  befides  being 
old. 

Sir  Gto.  I  do  not  know  what  you  call 
infirm  ;  he  is  as  fat  as  a  hog,  and,  as  I 
have  been  told,  eats  like  a  cormorant. 

Cam.  That  I  confefs  he  does  ;  but  he  is 
laid  up  half  the  year  with  the  gout. 

Sir  Geo.  The  gout,  my  good  friend,  is  a 
difeafe  not  to  be  depended  upon.  Old  La- 
vifh  the  nabob  had  it  for  twenty  years ;  and 
poor  Tom,  his  eldeft  fan,  endured  all  the 
torment  of  Tantalus  for  the  laft  four  years 
of  the  old  fellow's  life.  It  was  doubtful 
whether  the  father  fuffered  moft  from  the 
gout,  or  the  fon  from  difappointment. 
Poor  Tom  often  aflured  me,  when  he  faw 
his  father  recover  fit  after  fit,  that  he  was 
convinced  that  the  gout  is  a  difeafe  which 
prolongs  rather  thanftortens  life  ;  fo  that  I 
would  riot  have  you  to  rely  too  much  on 
the  gout,  for  unqueftionably  it  is  a  very 
deceitful  diftemper. 

Cam.  Independent  of  her  fortune,  how- 
ever, Mifs  Barnet  is  a  very  pretty  girl. 

Sir 


428  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

Sir  Geo.  So  are  fifty  girls  in  London, 
who  may  be  had  for  a  couple  of  guineas. 
I  hope  you  have  no  defign  to  imitate  your 
acquaintance  Bob  Whimfy,  who  propofes 
marriage  to  every  girl  he  meets  with  a  tole- 
rable face  ;  and  who,  becaufe  he  finds  no 
happinefs  in  frifking  from  one  aflembly  to 
another,  imagines  he  is  formed  for  matri- 
mony and  retirement. 

Cam.   Imitate !    Imitate  Whimfy  ! 

Sir  Geo.  I  beg  pardon,  dear  Carnaby ; 
nobody  will  fufpect  you  of  imitation  ;  and 
all  the  world  knows  that  a  man  of  fenfe 
would  never  imitate  a  coxcomb  and  fool ; 
but  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  Whimfy, 
when  you  mentioned  Mifs  Barnet's  beauty 
as  a  reafon  for  marrying  her;  becaufe  in 
my  opinion  her  {hare  of  beauty  is  but  mo- 
derate. She  has  none  of  the  elegant  lan- 
guor of  high  fafhion  ;  fhe  feemed  to  me 
to  be  remarkable  only  for  the  vulgar  bloom 
of  a  milk- maid,  and  the  pert  look  of  a 
French  milliner.  Pray  how  old  is  fhe? 

Carn.   I  fhould  guefs  about  feventeen. 

Sir 


EDWARD.  429 

Sir  Geo.  What  an  awful  age  for  a  wife, 
my  dear  friend !  why  you  can  have  no 
hopes  of  feeing  an  end  to  her ;  had  (he 
been  feventy,  indeed,  I  fhould  have  advifed 
you  to  venture ;  though,  to  fay  the  truth, 
I  had  no  notion  of  your  being  a  marrying 
man.  I  thought  you  would  have  rather 
liked  to  have  been  a  little  longer  at  the 
head  of  fafhion. 

Carn.   Marrying  has  been  a  good  deal 

the  fafhion  of  late. 

Sir  Geo.  Not  near  fo  much  as  keeping. 
Nothing  gives  a  young  fellow  the  air  of  a 
quiz  fo  much  as  being  married. 

Carn.  To  fay  the  truth,  I  ufed  to  have  as 
great  an  averfion  to  being  married  as  any 
man  in  England.  The  fcheme,  I  have  al- 
ready told  you,  is  my  aunt's ;  fhe  has 
brought  it  on  without  confulting  me. 

Sir  Geo.  Then  you  have  a  title  to  break 
it  off  without  confulting  her;  for  depend 
upon  it,  my  young  friend,  that  matrimony 
is  a  curfed  bore  for  one  at  your  time  of 
life  ;  and,  like  a  defperate  throw  at  dice,  it 
3  ought 


43o  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

ought  not  to  be  rifked  until  a  man  is  at  tne 
brink  of  ruin,  and  has  no  other  refource. 

The  effect  of  this  converfation  was,  that 
Carnaby  countermanded  the  poft-chaife, 
and  wrote  to  Lady  Virginia  that  indifpen- 
fable  bufmefs  put  it  out  of  his  power  to 
wait  on  her.  Sir  George  then  prevailed 
on  his  friend  Colonel  Snug  to  invite  Car- 
naby to  accompany  him  to  Newmarket, 
where  he  was  foon  to  go  with  a  fmall 
party  for  the  trial  of  fome  horfes,  which  he 
knew  would  be  flattering  to  Carnaby,  and 
keep  him  from  difturbing  the  project  which 
he  himfelf  had  formed,  and  in  confequence 
of  which  he  fet  out  for  the  Wells  near  Mr, 
Temple's. 


EDWARD.  431 


CHAP.     XLII. 

Veniunt  a  dote  fagitt».  JUVEK. 

CIR  George  had  not  only  fquandered  his 
paternal  eftate,  but  a  large  fum  of  mo- 
ney left  him  by  a  relation.  The  whole  had 
been  diflipated  in  expenfive  living  and 
gaming  ;  no  part  of  it  had  been  beftowed 
from  any  benevolent  or  generous  motive, 
and  very  little  for  any  friendly  or  charitable 
purpofe.  What  Pifo  faid  of  Otho  might 
alf«  be  faid  of  Sir  George — Perderc  ifte  fczef, 
donarc  nefcict.  He  dill  retained,  however, 
a  genteel  perfon,  and  the  airs  and  manners 
of  a  man  of  fafhion.  As  the  extent  of  his 
mortgages  were  not  known,  although  he 
was  poor  in  reality,  he  was  ftill  fo  rich  ia 
refources,  that  he  feemed  as  affluent  as  the 
mod  wealthy.  Having  been  for  fome  time 
reduced  to  that  defperate  ftate  which,  he 
10  thought, 


432  EDWARD. 

thought,  juftified  a  man  of  fenfe  for  marry- 
ing, he  had  already  made  fome  unfuccefsful 
attempts  at  a  match  fuitable  to  his  circtim- 
ftances.  Notwithftanding  his  having  hi- 
therto failed,  his  ill  fuccefs  could  not  be  im- 
puted to  any  romantic  refinement  in  his 
choice,  like  thofe  unreafonable  men  who, 
unmindful  of  their  own  deficiencies,  expect 
every  excellence  of  the  mind  and  body  in 
the  woman  they  honour  with  their  hand. 
Sir  George  was  even  willing  to  wave  cer- 
tain qualities,  which  have  been  thought  by 
the  moft  reafonable  men  neceflary  :  for  ex- 
ample, he  did  not  pofitively  infift  that  his 
fpoufe  fhould  have  either  much  good  fenfe 
or  goodnefs  of  difpofition  ;  and  as  for  that 
modefty,  gentlenefs,  and  even'timidity  of  de- 
portment, which  fome  people  admire  fo  much 
in  thefair  fex,  he  refolved,that  he  would  dif- 
penfe  with  them  alfo,  being  fenfible  that  they 
were  feldom  to  be  met  with  in  that  clafs  of 
women  from  which  alone  he  would  accept 
of  a  wife.  In  fhort,  he  was  determined 
not  to  object  to  any  woman  for  being  ever 
fo  arrogant  and  proud,  provided  her  purfe 

was 


EDWARD.  433 

was  in  proportion  to  her  pride.  What  made 
Sir  George  Royfton  the  more  eafily  dif- 
penfe  with  mental  accomplimments  in  his 
wife  was,  his  being  fully  fatisfied  that  he 
himfelf  pofleffed  a  quantity  fufficient  for 
both.  The  only  article  in  which  he  could 
be  thought  in  the  fmalleft  degree  difficult, 
was  that  in  which  he  was  confcious  of 
being  deficient  himfelf;  in  all  other  points 
he  was  eafy,  and  ready  to  facrifice  his  own 
particular  tafte ;  which  would  have  led 
him  to  prefer  a  very  old  woman,  or  one 
in  a  declining  ftate  of  health,  had  he 
not  made  up  his  mind  not  to  rejecl  any 
woman,  however  youthful  and  healthy  me 
might  be,  who  was  fufficiently  provided  in 
the  main  article ;  and,  therefore,  when 
mention  was  made  of  Mifs  Barnet's  fortune, 
with  the  flattering  circumftance  of  her  fa- 
ther's ill  ftate  of  health,  he  refolved  to  pay 
his  addreffes  to  her,  notwithftanding  her 
youth,  arid  in  defiance  of  every  indication 
of  perfect  health  and  a  lading  conftkution. 

Having  diduaded  Carnaby  from  Ihe  pro- 
fecution  of  a  project  which  he  himfelf  in- 

VOL.  i.  F  F  tended 


434  EDWARD. 

tended  to  adopt,  he  foon  after  appeared  at 
the  Wells  with  a  brilliant  equipage,  and 
accompanied  by  a  young  Peer,  whom  he 
had  prevailed  '.on  to  go  with  him,  for  the 
fame  reafdn  that  he  had  put  his  footmen  in 
new  liveries  ;  and  when  the  fimple  youth 
had,  by  his  title,  ferved  to  give  a  little  eclat  to 
Sir  George's  firft  appearance,  having  no 
farther  ufe  for  him,  but  rinding  his  Lordfhip 
rather  an  incumbrance,  he  prevailed  on  him 
to  return  to  London. 

Sir  George's  firft  care  was  to  pay  his  court 
to  Lady  Virginia,  at  whofe  houfe  he  foon 
met  with  Mrs.  Temple  and  Mils  Barnet; 
he  cultivated  the  favour  of  the  former  with 
the  moft  refpedful  attention  ;  making  it  at 
the  lame  time  fully  underftood  by  the  latter, 
that  it  was  entirely  on  her  account. 

The  rank  which  Sir  Ggorge  Royfton 
fuftained  in  the  world  of  fafliion,  the  eafy 
aiTurance  of  his  manners,  the  elegance  of 
his  drefs,  the  gaiety  of  his  converfation, 
rendered  more  mining  by  the  names  of 
Earls  and  Countefies,  Dukes  and  Duchefies, 
which  were  liberally  interfperfed  through 

all 


EDWARD.  435 

all  hi&  narratives,  rendered  him  agreeable 
to  Lady  Virginia,  who  did  not  fee  his 
drift  fo  well  as  Mifs  Barnet,  while  his  art- 
ful behaviour  to  Mrs.  Temple  gave  her  a 
more  favourable  opinion  of  him  than  might 
feem  confident  .with  her  ufual  good  fenfe 
and  difeernment:  but  who  has  not  remarked 
inftances  of  both  good  fenfe  and  difcern- 
ment being  lulled  by  artful  and  perfevering 
flattery  ? 

Sir  George's  progrefs  in  the  good  graces 
ef  Mifs  Barnet  was  affifted  by  an  incident. 
A  Lady  of  rank  and  beauty  appeared  on  the 
fcene,  and  attracted  univerfal  attention.  As 
Sir  George  was  of  her  acquaintance,  and 
made  a  more  brilliant  figure  than  any  other 
man  at  the  place,  me  expected  that  his 
chief  attention  mould  be  paid  to  her.  As 
this  Lady  was  a  woman  of  quality,  and 
as  Louifa  Barnet' s  heart  was  not  at  all  con- 
cerned in  the  connection  me  wilhed  to 
maintain  with  Sir  George,  (he  would  have 
been  fatisfied  with  a  fair  divifion  of  his  ho- 
mage, but  when  me  found  the  Lady  aiming 
at  the  whole,  me  determined  me  mould  have 
F  F  2  none 


436  EDWARD. 

none  of  it.  From  the  moment  fhe  formed 
this  refolution,  as  often  as  Sir  George,  after 
having  fpoken  to  the  Lady  in  queftion, 
began  to  addrefs  Louifa,  the  latter  aflumed 
fuch  an  air  of  coldnefs,  that  a  ftranger  would 
naturally  have  thought  that  fhe  was  very 
little  acquainted  with  him,  and  wimed  to  be 
lefs. 

Finding  that  the  leaft  attention  paid  to 
the  one  was  incompatible  with  his  views 
on'  the  other,  Sir  George  took  no  more 
notice  of  his  old  acquaintance,  and  was  im- 
mediately taken  into  favour  by  his  new. 

Mifs  Barnet  became  inftantly  attentive  ta 
his  difcourie,  feemed  to  admire  his  bon  motsy 
for  he  had  the  reputation  of  a  wit,  and  {he 
even  heard  his  mod  unfuccefsful  attempts 
with  a  fmile  of  approbation :  he  \vas  her 
conftant  partner  at  the  ailemblies,  and  a 
frequent  vifitor  at  Mr.  Temple's  houfe. 
Hitherto  that  gentleman  had  been  abfent;  his 
arrival  difconcerted  Sir  George's  fcheme  ; 
he  knew  enough  of  the  Baronet's  character 
to  be  perfuaded  that  he  was  an  "exceedingly 
improper  acquaintance  for  Louifa  ;  and  he 

blamed- 


EDWARD.  437 

blamed  his  wife  for  having  countenanced 
that  degree  of  intimacy  on  which  they  were. 

Mrs.  Temple  was  convinced  of  her  error  ; 
this  fhe  owed  to  her  good  fenfe.  She  ac- 
knowledged her  conviction  ;  and  this  pro- 
ceeded from  her  good  temper ;  a  quality 
fully  as  valuable,  and,  perhaps,  more  rare 
than  the  other.  She  expreffed  fo  much  un- 
eafmefs,  that  her  hufband  began  to  juftify, 
inftead  of  continuing  to  blame  her  conduct. 
She  mentioned  to  Mifs  Barnet  what  her 
hufband  had  told  her  refpecling  Sir  George's 
character  and  circumftances.  The  niece  re- 
plied, that  it  could  not  be  expected  that  the 
life  of  a  gay  man  of  fafhion  would,  in  all 
points,  be  agreeable  to  the  fenti merits  of  a 
clergyman  ;  and  as  for  his  circumilances, 
they  were  nothing  to  her. 

Mrs.  Temple  then  advifed  her  niece,  very 
earneftly,  to  "drop  his  acquaintance. 

The  young  Lady  thanked  her  for  the 
friendly  advice,  with  an  air  that  gave  the 
aunt  a  notion  that  fhe  would  not  adopt  it : 
in  this  Ihe  was  confirmed  the  following  day, 
when  fhe  underftood  that  letters  had  pa  (Ted 
F  F  3  between 


438  EDWARD. 

between  Sir  George  and  her  niece  ;  and 
when  fhe  heard  her  expreis  a  defire  of 
going  to  a  ball  at  the  Wells  the  week  fol- 
lowing. With  her  hufband's  approbation, 
Mrs.  Temple  wrote  that  very  day  to  Mrs. 
Barnet. 

Sir  George  Royfton  had  made  fome  at- 
tempts to  gain  the  good  will  of  Mr.  Temple, 
but  was  loon  convinced,  by  the  cold  polite- 
nefs  of  that  gentleman's  behaviour,  that  he 
would  not  fucceed  ;  he  laid  his  account, 
therefore,  with  meeting  obflacles  from  that 
quarter;  but  he  flattered  himfelf  that  oppofi- 
tion  would  provoke  the  young  Lady,  render 
her  lover  dearer  to  her  than  before,  and,  by 
giving  the  intrigue  fomething  of  a  romantic 
air, haften  the  accomplishment  of  his  fcheme. 
He  tried  to  draw  her  into  a  regular  corre- 
fpondence  with  him  by  letters,  but  only  a 
few  notes  had  hitherto  pafTed  between  them, 
and  thefe  related  merely  to  the  intended 
ball :  he  had  fent  his  firft  note  in  a  myfte- 
rious  manner,  but  fhe  returned  her  anfwer 
openly  ;  he  had  even  at  one  time  thrown 
out  a  vague  hint  refpecting  a  jaunt  to  the 

North, 


EDWARD.  439 

North,  and  had  already  made  certain  pre- 
parations for  putting  fuch  a  fcheme  in  exe- 
cution, being  fully  perfuaded  that  he  would, 
in  a  fhort  time,  prevail  on  the  young  Lady 
to  adopt  it. 

In  this,  it  is  probable,  he  over-rated 
the  degree  of  favour  in  which  he  flood 
with  Mifs  Barnet.  She  had  nothing  in  view 
but  the  gratification  of  vanity,  by  engroffing 
the  affiduities  of  the  moft  fafliionable  man 
of  the  place  :  and  this  experienced  man  of 
the  town  was  fo  blinded  by  the  fame  paflion, 
as  to  believe  her  to  be  ferioufly  fond  of 
him  ;  he  imputed  to  love  what  belonged  to 
coquetry. 

How  often  do  we  fee  men  of  experience, 
and  even  fhrewdnefs,  act  as  weakly,  and  of 
courfe  more  ridiculoufly  than  a  girl,  through 
vanity  ! 


FP  4 


440  EDWARD. 


CHAP.     XLIII. 

No  fingle  virtue  we  could  mod  commend, 
Whether  the  wife,   the  mother,   or  the  friend  ; 
For  fhe  was  all  in  that  fupreme  degree 
That  as  no  one  prevailed,  fo  all  was  fhe. 
The  feveral   parts  lay  hidden  in  the  piece  ; 
Th'  occafion  but  exerted  that  or  this. 

DRYUEN. 

JV/TRS.  Barnet  fet  out  for  the  houfe  of  Mr. 
Temple  an  hour  after  receiving  his 
wife's  letter.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Temple 
feemed  as  much  furprifed  at  Mrs.  Barnet's 
arrival,  as  her  daughter  was  in  reality.  She 
entered  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  feemed 
to  he  in  high  fpirits,  and  in  the  beft  hu- 
mour, with  Mifs  Barnet  in  particular. 
She  informed  the  young  Lady,  however, 
that  her  father  was  impatient  to  fee  her  ; 
and  hinted  that  fhe  herfelf  had  fomething 
of  importance  to  communicate,  which  fhe 

would 


EDWARD.  441 

vjrould  referve  until  they  were  in  the  car-  - 
jiage  on  their  return. 

Mifs  Barnet  could  not  ftelp  fhewing  un- 
eafinefs  at  the  mention  cf  her  returning, 
and  began  to  meditate  fome  excufe  or  pre- 
text for  prolonging  her  flay.  This  did  not 
efcape  the  penetrating  eye  of  her  mother, 
who  again  mentioned,  in  terms  calculated 
to  excite  her  daughter's  curicfity,  that  fhe 
had  fometning  of  a  very  interefting  and 
agreeable  nature  to  fpeak  of  to  her.  In 
this  manner  fhe  prevented  her  daughter 
from  making  any  objection  to  returning, 
although  fhe  had  two  or  three  times  deter- 
mined upon  it,  and  was  juft  ready  to  ftate 
her  objections,  when  Mrs.  Barnet  difcon- 
certed  her  plan,  by  roufing  her  curiofity, 
and  turning  her  attention  to  another  fub- 
jecl:.  The  mother  fucceeded  fo  completely, 
that  the  daughter  was  occupied  the  whole 
night  in  thinking  what  the  important  and 
interefting  bufmefs  could  be  which  her  mo~ 
ther  referved  for  her  private  ear  when  they 
fhoulci.  be  tete  a  the  in  the  carriage  ;  and 

3  Mifs 


442  EDWARD. 

Mifs  Harriet's  curiofity  at  laft  became  fo 
vexatious,-  that'  inftead  of  making  objec- 
tions to  their  departure,  fhe  was  ready 
before  her  mother  to  fet  out  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  which  they  did,  after  Mifs  Barnet 
had  written  a  note  to  Sir  George,  to  inform 
him  that  it  would  not  be  in  her  power  to 
dance  with  him  at  the  ball,  becaufe  fhe  was 
obliged  to  accompany  her  mother  home. 

When  Mrs.  Barnet  was  feated  in  the 
carriage,  fhe  had  a  ftory  prepared  for  her 
daughter's  amufement  fufficiently  interefl> 
ing  to  form  the  bafis  of  their  converfation 
during  the  whole  journey,  which  termi- 
nated on  the  very  evening  on  which  Sir 
George  Royfton  was  to  have  met  her  at 
the  ball. 

Mrs.  Barnet  had  determined  from  the 
firft  to  feem  entirely  ignorant  of  her  daugh- 
ter's having  any  acquaintance  with  that 
gentleman,  to  avoid  all  remonftrance,  up- 
braiding, or  difcuflion  on  the  fubjed:, 
having  obferved  that  wounded  vanity,  felf- 
lovc,  and  the  fpirit  of  contradiction  all 
9  take 


EDWARD.  443 

'take   part   on    fuch  oceafions    againft    the 
remonftrator,    and    rather    do    harm    than 
good.     Mifs  Barnet   certainly  had  no  vio- 
lent paffion  for  Sir  George  Royfton ;  but 
who  knows  what  abufing  him,  blaming  her 
for  having  ever  fpoken  to  him,   ordering 
her  never  to  fpeak  to  him  more,   and  fuch 
irritating  meafures,  might  have  produced  ? 
And  who  has  not  known  inftances  of  the 
cooling  embers  of  languid  love  being  kept 
glowing,  and  at  length  kindled  into  a  flame, 
by,  furious  attempts    to  extinguifh   them? 
Every  thing  of  that    nature    Mrs.   Barnet 
avoided    with    the    utmoft    care,  and   ufed 
every  means  in  her  power  to  render  home 
agreeable  to  her  daughter,  and  for  that  pur- 
pofe  fhe  feemed  to  place  full  confidence  in. 
her,   and  to  be  perfectly  fatisfied   with  her 
conduct.  She  obferved  with  concern,  how- 
ever, that  the  young  Lady  herfelf  took  little 
intereft  in  the  objects  around  her,   was  no 
way  entertained  with  the  company  which 
{he  either  met  at  her  father's,  or  with  thofe 
(lie  vifjted  in  the  neighbourhood  ;  that  fhe 

had 


444  E  D  \V  A  R  D, 

had  no  tafte  for  {he   amufements  of  th» 

country,   and  that,  contrary  to  her  natural 

turn,  {he  feemed  fometimes  penfive  or  ab- 

fent  in  the  midft  of  company.     Difturbed 

by  thofe  appearances  in  her  daughter,  Mrs. 

Barnet  began  to  fear  that  in  the  ftillnefs  and 

uniformity  of  rural  life   the  young  Lady's 

jnind  might  be  directed  to  her  late  pretended 

lover,   who  {he   imagined    had   a  ftronger 

hold  of  her  affedions   than  was  really  the 

cafe,  and  who  might  endeavour  to  renew  a 

correfpondence  with  her.     Mrs.  and   Mifs 

Eafy  were  at  this  time  at  Barnet-hall ;  they 

had  come  in  confequence  of  a  very  preffing 

letter   written  by  Mrs.  Barnet   on  the  day 

that  fhe  let  out  for  her  daughter.     She  had 

done  this  with  a  view  of  rendering  home 

the   more    agreeable    to   the    young  Lady. 

But  they   had  been  at  Barnet-hall   only  a 

few  days  when  Mr.  Barnet  was  feized  with 

a  fevere  fit  of  the  gout,  an  accident  which 

never  failed  to  render  the  houfe  intolerable 

to  ftrangers,  and  extremely  difagreeable  to 

thofe  whom  duty  obliged  to  remain  in  it. 

In 


EDWARD. 

In  this  fituation  of  tilings,  Mrs.  Bar'net 
agreed  to  Mrs.  Eafy's  rcqueft,  that  Mifsr 
Barnet  fhould  accompany  Mrs.  and  Mifs 
Eafy  to  London^  in  the  hopes  that  their 
fociety  and  the  amufements  of  the  -capital 
would  produce  that  effect  on  the  former, 
which  the  prefent  circumftances  of  her  own 
family  rendered  improbable  in  the  country. 
And  fhe  was  the  more  anxious  to  obtain 
her  hufband's  confent  that  her  daughter 
fhould  accompany  Mrs.  and  Mifs  Eafy  to 
London,  and  remain  fome  time  there,  be- 
caufe  fhe  had  received  information  that  Sir 
George  Royfton  had  gone  to  Aix  la 
Chapelle. 

He  had  taken  this  ffep  in  confequence 
of  fome  very  interefting  intelligence  from 
London.  One  of  his  principal  creditors  had 
intended  to  have  him  arrefted,  but  had  poft- 
poned  that  meafure  on  being  affured  that 
he  was  on  the  point  of  being  married  to  a 
rich  heirefs.  On  afterwards  hearing  that 
the  heirefs  had  changed  her  mind,  the  cre- 
ditor refumcd  his  former  intentions.  An 

acquaint- 


446  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

acquaintance  of  Sir  George  ferit  him  notice 
of  this  by  expreis.  The  Baronet  left  the 
place  leveral  hours  before-  the  creditor 
reached  it,  and  in  fpite  of  the  diligence 
ufed  by  thofe  who  continued  in  puriuit  of 
him,  Sir  George  got  clear  out  of  the  king- 
dom, and  arrived  fafely  at  Aix  la  Chapelle, 
which  exafperated  the  creditor  fq  highly, 
that  he  perfevered  during  feveral,  hours  in 
pouring  curfes  on  all  governments  without 
diftindion  which  protected  debtors  from 
being  feized  wherever  they  could  be  found, 
and  dragged  home  to  their  native  prilbns. 

This  man's  intemperance  admits  of  forne 
cxcufe  on  account  of  the  money  he  loll ; 
but  the  oppofite  opinions  entertained  by 
the  company  at  this  place  on  the  prcfent 
occafion  are  more  furprifing,  and  ferve  to 
illuftrate  the  common  obfervation,  that 
people's  opinions  in  general  are  derived 
from  their  own  particular  fituation,  more 
than  from  the  real  merits  of  any  difputable 
point. 

Sir  George  Royflon's  adventure  with 
Louifa  Barnct  was  the  prevailing  topic  of 

conver- 


EDWARD.  447 

converfation  at  the  Wells  for  fome  time. 
The  fathers  and  mothers,  particularly  thofe 
wh  prown  up  daughters,  exclaimed 

agairift  him. as  a  needy  fortune-hunter,  of 
courfe  a  villain  of  the  firft  magnitude. 

Sir  George's  creditors  in  general,  form- 
ing a  conquerable  portion  of  the  permanent 
inhabitants,  cenfured  Mifs  Barnet  as  a  co- 
quet and  a  jilt  for  not  having  gone  off  with 
him  to  Scotland  to  be  married,  as  by 
her  inconftancy  many  honeft  induftrious 
tradefmen  would  run  the  rifk  of  lofmg  the 
money  he  owed  them. 

A  genteel  young  man  from  Ireland,  who 
was  paying  his  court  to  a  woman  of  confi- 
derable  fortune,  obferved,  in  a  private  com- 
pany where  this  affair  was  warmly  difcuffed, 
"  that  he  was  forry  to  give  an  opinion  agaipft 
a  Lady,  but  certainly  Mifs  Barnet  had  acted 
with  infmcerity  ;  becaufe  it  appeared  that  fhe 
had  no  intention  of  marrying  Sir  George,  but 
that  her  view  was  merely  to  induce  him  to 
lofe  his  time  in  paying  his  court  to  her  in 
preference  to  others,  with  whom  he  might 
have  fucceeded  j  whereas  Sir  George  had 
behaved  with  fmcerity,  was  ready  to  have 

carried 


44-S  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

carried  her  off,  and  married  her  like  a  ma~ti 
of  honour.'* 

A  Lady  who  had  been  an  heirefsj  on 
whofe  countenance  there  was  a  deep  im- 
preffion  of  melancholy,  who  lived  feparate 
from  her  hufband  on  a  moderate  allowance 
out  of  her  c  wn  fortune,  anfwered,  "Had 
Sir  Gerrge  Royfton  behaved  with  the  fm- 
cerity  of  a  man  of  ftrict  honour,  Sir,  he 
would  have  informed  Mifs  Barnet  that  he 
•was  overwhelmed  with  debt;  that  his  mo- 
tive in  propofing  marriage  to  her  was  not 
love,  but  to  repair  his  own  fortune  from 
the  ruin  of  hers  :  but  as  he  made  no  men- 
tion of  thefe  truths,  and  would  probably 
have  treated  her  cruelly,  had  fhe  become 
his  wife,  there  is  no  room  to  praife  his  fin- 
cerity  or  honour." 

Having  pronounced  this  in  fomewhat  of 
a  broken  voice,  the  Lady  rofe  from  her  feat, 
and  walked  towards  the  window,,  wiping 
her  eyes  with  her  handkerchief. 

When  Mrs.  Barnet  was  certain  that  Sir 
George  Royfton  had  been  obliged  to  go  to 
the  Continent,  and  faw  her  hufband  confined 
with  the  gout,  me  became  not  only  willing 

but 


EDWARD.  449 

but  even  felicitous,  that  Louifa  fhould  go  to 
London  with  Mrs.  and  Mifs  Eafy  ;  but  fhe 
found  a  good  deal  of  difficulty  to  prevail  on 
Mr.  Barnet  to  confent. 

Nothing  could  be  more-oppofite  than  the 
fentiments  of  the  hufband  and  wife  on  this 
head.  Mrs.  Barnet  wifhed  that  her  daugh- 
ter fhould  go  to  London,  becaufe  fhe  well 
knew,  that  when  her  hufband  was  ill  of  the 
gout,  there  would  be  no  amufement  and 
little  comfort  at  Barnet-Hall.  Whatever 
was  agreeable  in  Mrs.  Barnet' s  lot,  and 
whatever  fource  of  happinefs  fhe  had  in  her 
power,  fhe  was  defirous  of  partaking  with 
her  friends ;  and  if  fhe  had  had  the  diftri- 
bution  of  enjoyment,  the  largeft  portion 
would  have  been  dealt  among  them. 

Mr.  Barnet, 'on  the  contrary,  wifhed  his 
daughter  to  remain  for  the  very  reafon  his 
wife  defired  her  away ;  becaufe  home  was  to 
be  the  abode  of  difquiet.  With  fome  peculiar 
marks  of  chara&er,  Mr.  Barnet  had  one  in 
common  with  a  great  many  of  mankind  ; 
but  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  few  poflefs  it  in  fo 
eminent  a  degree ;  and  of  thofe  few  it  were 

VOL.  i.  GO  much 


E  D  W  A  R  D, 

much  to  be  wifhed  that  none  were  to  be 
found  in  the  very  higheft  ranks  of  life,  for 
there  fuch  a  difpofition  is  a  much  greater 
evil  than  it  can  be  in  the  middle  or  inferior 
ranks  of  fociety.     The  peculiarity  alluded 
to  is  this,  that  while  he  gave  himfelf  little 
or     no    concern    about    the    diftrefles   of 
any  of  the   human   race,   he   would  have 
thought  the   whole  human  race  well  em- 
ployed in  relieving   his ;    and  if   any   of 
his  acquaintance  feemed   to  enjoy  eafe  or 
comfort,  when  be  laboured  under  ficknefs 
or  pain,  he  dated  it  as  a  clear  fign  of  a 
felfifh  and  unfeeling  difpofition.  This  being 
Mr.  Barnet's  way  of  thinking,  nothing  can 
be  a  ftronger  proof  of  his  wife's  addrefs, 
and  the  influence  me  had  with  him,  than 
his  confenting  that  his  daughter  mould  go 
to  London  at  the  particular  period  when 
her  refidence  in  the  country  would  have 
been  moft  agreeable  to  him.     As  foon  as 
Mrs.  and  Mifs  Eafy  iet  out  for  the  capital 
with  their  young  friend,  Mrs.  Barnet  invited  l; 
Edward  to  the  country,  in  the  hopes  that 
his  converfation  would  be  fome  compenfa- 
13  tion 


EDWARD.  451 

tion  to  her  hufband  for  the  ab fence  of  her 
daughter.  Her  expectation  was  not  difap- 
pointed  ;  Edward  became  every  day  more 
agreeable  to  Barnet,  and  a  remiflion  of  his 
pain  happening  foon  after,  he  imputed  it 
entirely  to  the  pleafure  he  derived  from  the 
youth's  company,  to  the  great  mortification 
of  the  apothecary,  who  infifted  that  it  was 
the  effect  of  one  of  his  draughts,  which 
Mr.  Barnet  had  vomited  up  two  hours  be- 
fore the  pain  remitted. 

Edward's  manners  were  irre;fiftibly  en- 
gaging, and  his  converfation  of  that  happy- 
nature  that  gains  good-will  to  the  fpeaker, 
while  it  diffufes  good-humour  through  the 
company.  One  unfortunate  effect  flowed 
from  this,  Mr.  Barnet  was  more  peevifh 
than  ufual  as  often  as  Edward  was  out 
of  his  fight.  The  young  man  himfelf, 
however,  was  impatient  to  return  to  thofe 
ftudies  on  which  his  hopes  of  independency 
were  founded;  he  languifhed  to  indulge,  from 
funds  of  his  own  acquiring,  that  continual 
propenfity  which  her  felt  to  acts  of  benevo- 
lence and  liberality  ;  he  was  Hkewife  -eager 

G  G    2  tO 


452  EDWARD. 

to  lighten  the  burden  of  obligation,  the  only 
burden  of  which  he  could  have  wifhed  him- 
felf  relieved,  for  the  exprefs  purpoie  of 
laying  it  upon  others. 

Having  obferved,  however,  that  the  mod 
remote  hint  of  his  going  to  town  was  al- 
ways received  with  ill- humour  by  Mr. 
Barnet,  Edward  was  entirely  filent  on  that 
head  j  but  when  Mrs.  Barnet  faw  her  huf- 
band  confiderably  better,  fhe  deiired  Mr. 
Temple  to  introduce  the  fubjecl,  that  Ihe 
might  endeavour  to  convince  her  hufband 
of  the  expediency  of  Edward's  returning  to 
London.  One  day  after  dinner,  therefore,  Mr. 
Temple  took  occafion  to  obferve,  that  the 
Courts  were  then  fitting,  and  looking  to  Ed- 
ward, "  Is  it  not  time,"  faid  he, "  young  man, 
for  you  to  refume  the  weighty  ftudies  of  the 
law?" 

"  Curfe  the  law  !"  cried  Barnet,  throwing 
on  the  table  the  very  nectarine  he  was  going 
to  bite. 

The  company,  who  perceived  that  this 
burft  of  anger  entirely  proceeded  from  Mr. 
Barnet' s  diflike  to  the  idea  of  the  youth's 
leaving  them,  joined  in  a  laugh  ;  after 

which, 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  453 

•which,  Mr.  Temple  faid,  "  I  hope,  my 
dear  brother,  for  your  fake  more  than  mine, 
that  your  malediction  is  not  directed  againft 
the  gofpcl  as  well  as  the  law  ;  at  any  rate 
you  ought  to  confider  that  Edward  has  been 
here  a  month." 

•  "  A  month  !"  crie-d  Barnet;  <{  he  has  not 
been  here  above  a  week." 

"  It  is  fortunate  for  him,"  refumed  Mr. 
Temple,  "  that  he  can  make  a  month  feem  a 
week  ;  but  you  may  rely  upon  it,  that  he 
has  been  here  juft  three  and  thirty  days." 

"  Well,  well,  it  does  not  fignify,"  faid  Mr. 
Barnet,  peeviihly ;  "  if  it  were  three  and 
forty,  he  fhall  not  leave  us  yet." 

Nobody  could  be  more  convinced  than 
Mrs.  Barnet  of  the  expediency  of  Edward's 
going  to  London  ;  but  fhe  knew  at  the 
fame  time  that  the  moft  likely  way  to  make- 
her  hufband  obftinate  to  retain  him  in  thf 
Country  was  to  infift  at  that  moment  on  the 
propriety  of  his  going  to  town  ;  fhe  there- 
fore changed  the  fubject,  and,  fome  time 
after,  the  converfation  turning  on  the  dan- 
gers to  which  young  men  are  expofed  at 
G  o  3  their 


454  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

their  firft  arrival  in  the  capital,  ihe  hap- 
pened to  remark,  that  it  xvas  fortunate  for 
them  when  they  were  connected  with  peo- 
ple who  were  wifer  and  more  experienced 
than  themfelves,  to  give  them  counfel  and 
advice.  No  more  pafled  at  that  time,  and 
the  company  feparated. 

Mrs.  Barnet  afterwards  feized  a  favour- 
able moment  for  refuming  the  fubjec~r,  and 
at  laft  was  fortunate  enough  to  perfuade  her 
hufband,  that  Edward  ought  to  go  to  Lon- 
don very  foon  ;  but  what  {he  had  accident- 
ally dro'pped  on  the  fubject  of  armjng  a 
young  man  with  good  advice  made  an  im- 
preflion  on  her  huiband  that  fhe  did  not 
expect,  and  prompted  him  to  an  exertion- 
which  (he  certainly  never  intended  he  mould 
make. 


EDWARD. 


CHAP.    XLIV, 

J>Je  faut  il  que  deliberer  ? 
La  Cour  en  Confeillers  foifonne. 
Eft-il  befoin  d'executer  ? 
L'on  ne  rencontre  perfonne. 

DE  LA  FONTAINE. 

R*  Barnet  being  fufficiently  recovered 
to  bear  an  airing  in  the  carriage,  he 
defired  Edward  to  accompany  him  j  and 
when  they  came  to  a  part  where  the  road 
was  uncommonly  fmooth  and  level  for  fe- 
veral  miles,  he  fpoke  to  the  following  effecT: : 
*'  My  dear  Edward,  after  mature  and  deep 
reflection,  I  have  at  length  come  to  the 
opinion,  that  it  will  not  be  for  your  advan- 
tage to  remain  longer  in  the  country  at  pre- 
ient ;  but  that  you  ought  to  fet  out  for  Lon- 
don to-morrow  morning.  You  may  re- 
member that  my  wife  mentioned  the  need 
which  young  men,  ignorant  of  the  world 
GG  4  like 


45  6  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

like  yourfelf,  have  of  good  counfel,  particu-s- 
larly  when  they  refide  in  fuch  a  place  as 
London.  Mrs.  Barnet  does  not  want  for 
fagacity,  as  far  as  her  underftanding  reaches ; 
but  as  that  cannot  go  far  on  account  of  the 
weaknefs  of  her  fex,  me  threw  it  out  as 
a  hint  to  me,  being  confcious  that  (he 
herfelf  is  incapable  of  executing  fuch  a 
tafk.  Accordingly  I  {hall  take  this  op- 
portunity, when  there  is  nobody  prefent  ex- 
cept ourfelves,  to  arm  you  with  fome  ufeful 
rules  for  the  better  regulation  of  your  future 
conduct.  Firft  and  foremen:  then,  I  advife 
you  to  make  yourfelf  matter  of  your  bufi- 
nefs  as  foon  as  poffible  ;  for  I  once  heard 
an  eminent  attorney  declare,  that,  in  your 
profeffion,  lofs  of  time  is  lofs  of  money. 

"  In  London  you  will  fometimes  meet 
"with  people  who  prefer  pleafure  tobufmefs  : 
but  I  counfel  you  to  prefer  bufmefs  to  plea- 
fure j  becaufe,  although  pleafure  is  by  much 
the  moft  agreeable  in  the  mean  time,  yet 
I  have  been  told  by  fome  who  have  made 
the  experiment,  that  bufmefs  affords  mod 

fatisfa&ion  on  reflexion. 

"Ic 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  457 

tf  It  is  ufual  for  young  lawyers  to  di- 
rect their  attention  to  a  knowledge  of 
the  practise  cf  fome  particular  court, 
with  a  view  to  diftinguiih  themfelves  in 
it ;  but  I  advife  you  to  acquire  a  tho? 
rough  knowledge  of  the  practice  of  all  the 
courts  without  exception,  that  you  may 
have  as  much  bufmefs  as  you  pleafe  in 
each,  and  then  you  may  adhere  to  that 
which  you  find  the  mcfi  profitable.  Elo- 
quence, you  may  depend  upon  it,  is  of  con- 
fiderable  ufe  in  the  exercife  of  your  pro- 
feffion  ;  I  recommend  it  to  you,  therefore, 
to  excel  all  your  cotemporaries  in  that  ar- 
ticle. Judgment  and  good  fenfe  are  alfo  of 
fervice  to  thofe  who  pra£tife  the  law,  and 
you  have  been  remarked  for  putting  a  great 
deal  of  meaning  in  a  few  words.  I  remem- 
ber to  have  heard  Mr.  Temple  aflert,  that 
in  a  few  obfervations  which  you  made  one 
day  after  dinner  at  my  table,  there  was 
more  fenfe  arid  meaning  than  in  all  that 
fell  from  Sir  Mathew  Maukifh,  who  made 
an  harangue  on  the  fame  fubject  that  Lifted 
an  hour.  I  muft  inform  you,  however, 
15  that 


458  EDWARD. 

that  Mr.  Wormwood  remarked  at  the  fame 
time,  that  although  condenfing  a  great  deal 
of  matter  in  a  few  words  is  admired  on 
fome  occafions,  yet,  in  law,  it  is  thought 
more  beneficial  to  involve  a  fmall  quantity 
of  meaning  in  a  profufion  of  words;  this 
kind  of  eloquence,  he  aflured  me,  was 
greatly  in  vogue,  not  only  in  law-papers,  but 
likewife  at  the  bar.  He  mentioned  alfo  fome 
other  places,  where  the  fame  fpecies  of  ora- 
tory gains  ground  daily.  It  will  there- 
fore be  proper  that  you  pay  fome  attention 
to  acquire  an  art  fo  much  in  famion.  I 
forbear  to  mention  thofe  other  places,  be- 
caufe  I  do  not  wilh  to  give  offence  to  either 
Houfe  of  Parliament,  and  far  lefs  to  the 
church,  being  firmly  attached  both  to  church 
and  king,  although  I  never  go  either  to 
church  or  court,  not  from  want  of  refpec~t,but 
merely  becaufe  I  find  them  both  extremely 
tirefome.  I  beg,  however,  that  you  will  not 
mention  what  I  have  faid,  regarding  the  elo- 
quence of  the  parliament  and  pulpit,  to  our 
neighbour  Sir  Mathew  Maukifh,  becaufe  he 
would  naturally  think  I  meant  a  wipe  at  his 

parlia- 


EDWARD.  459 

parliamentary  fpeeches.  You  will  alfo  con- 
ceal what  I  have  faid  from  my  brother  Tem- 
ple, who  cannot  bear  that  any  thing  Ihould  be 
infinuated  againft  the  eloquence  of  thepulpit. 

"  Women,  my  dear  Edward,  have  been 
always  confidered  as  very  dangerous  crea- 
tures for  young  men  :  As  there  is  the  greateft 
collection  of  them  in  the  capital,  London, 
of  courfe,  is  thought  the  moft  dangerous 
place  in  England  for  an  inexperienced 
youth.  Perhaps  you  may  think  that  you 
cannot  properly  be  fo  called,  having  had 
fome  experience  of  the  women  of  the  coun- 
try ;  but  I  muft  inform  you,  that  they  are, 
in  fome  refpeds,  different  fro«i  the  women 
of  the  town ;  fo  that  you  ought  not  en- 
tirely to  form  your  notions  of  the  one,  from, 
your  knowledge  of  the  other :  in  this  you 
are  in  danger  alfo  of  being  milled  by  the 
denomination  fometimes  given  to  the  latter^ 
who  are  vulgarly  called  women  of  pleafure, 
although  they,  not  unfrequently,  turn  out 
to  be  women  of  pain. 

"  You  ought  to  avoid  bad  habits  of  every 
kind,  becaufe  habit  when  indulged  becomes 

a  fecond 


E  D:\V  A  R  D. 

a  fecond  nature,  and  requires  very  great 
frrengthof  mind  to  overcome.  This  degree  of 
philofophy  and  flrength  of  mind, 'however, 
I  myfelf  have  exercifed,  for  I  acknowledge 
that  in  my  youthful  years  I  was  a  little  given 
to  wcrnen,  yet,  notwithftanding  the  power 
of  habit,  I  have  now,  by  dint  of  realbn  and 
refleclion,  almoil  entirely  got  the  better  of 
that  dangerous  propenfity,  I  mention  thi$ 
for  your  encouragemeht. 

"  It  may  be  proper  alfo  to  mention,  that 
homely  women  are  the  leaft  dangerous ; 
when  you  are  obliged  therefore  to  be  in 
female  fociety,  you  had  bed  attach  yoarfelf 
to  that  clafs  kiflead  of  the  handfome,  who 
are  more  apt  to  lead  young  men  aftray,  to 
the  ruin  of  their  reputation,  and,  which  is 
wprfe,  even  to  the  injury  of  their  health.  This 
is  not  only  my  opinion,  but  it  \vas  that  of 
Solomon,  the  wifeft  man  that  ever  lived  ; 
who  gave  many  excellent  rules  againft  the 
allurements  of  beautiful  and  wanton  women. 
But  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  that  his  wif- 
dom  appears  more  confpicuo>-'s  in  his  precepts 
than  in  the- manner  ia  which  he  himfelf 

obferved 


EDWARD.  461. 

obferved  them ;  from  which  it  is  evident 
that  we  ought  to  obferve  his  precepts  and 
not  follow  his  example.  I  could  add  fome 
ether  ufeful  inftrucTions,  but  being  of 
opinion  that  it  is  better  to  make  but  mode- 
rate exactions  of  young  people  with  a  great 
probability  of  their  being  fulfilled,  than  by 
requiring  a  great  deal  to  run  the  rifk  of 
fome  being  neglected,  1  fhall  terminate  my 
admonitions  here." 

As  Mr.  Barnet  ended  this  difcourfe,  which 
had  been  prepared  with'  more  previous  re- 
flection than  any  he  had  ever  before  made, 
a  gentleman  of  the  neighbourhood  rode  up 
to  the  carriage  with  the  ufual  inquiry  about 
the  health  of  his  family.  This  interruption 
was  very  agreeable  to  Edward,  who  kept  the 
moft  profound  filence  while  Mr.  Barnet. 
fpoke,  and  would  have  been  much  at  a  lofs 
what  anfwer  to  have  made;  for  however 
ridiculous  the  admonitions  appeared,  and 
notwithstanding  his  having  a  natural  talent 
for  feizing  the  ridiculous  in  whatever  he  , 
heard  or  obferved,  he  never  would  permit 
himfelf  to.  indulge  in-  a  (ingle  expreffion  at 

the 


46z  EDWARD. 

the  expence  of  Mr.  Barnet;  the  fame  ab- 
furdities  which  would  have  entertained  him 
in  another,  always  gave  him  pain  when  they 
came  from  him. 

Edward  fet  out  for  London  the  following 
merning  as  had  heen  determined,  and  took 
poffeffion  of  his  chambers  in  the  Temple. 


EDWARD.  463 


CHAP.     XLV. 

O  life  !  how  pleafing  is  thy  morning, 
Young  Fancy's  rays  the  hills  adorning  ! 
Cold  paufing  Caution's  leiTons  {corning, 

We  frifk  away, 
Like  fchool-boys,  at  th6  expefted  warning, 

To  joy  and  play. 

We  wander  there,  we  wander  here, 
We  eye  the  rofe  upon  the  brier, 
Unmindful  that  the  thorn  is  near 

Among  the  leaves  ; 
And  though  the  puny  wound  appear, 

Short  while  it  grieves. 

BURKS, 

ss  Louifa  Barnet  was  rather  below  the 
middle  fize  of  women,  her  perfon  well 
proportioned  and  elaftic,  her  hair  dark 
brown,  in  great  profufion,  and  arranged  with 
the  attention  requifite  to  give  it  the  grace- 
ful flow  of  negligence,  her  complexion 
tending  to  brown;  {he  had  fine  teeth,  and 

black 


464  £  D  W  A  R  D. 

black  eyes  of  an  uncommon  vivacity,  her 
other  features  were  not  unexceptionable  j 
yet  in  many  men's  opinionj  fhe  was  on  the 
whole,  more  attractive  than  fome  beauties 
of  high  renown,  whofe  countenances  and 
perfons  were  generally  pronounced  more 
regular  and  perfect.  Mifs  Barnet  was  fond 
of  admiration,  not  only  from  thofe  whofe 
judgment  fhe  valued,  but  alfo  from  thofe 
whofe  opinion,  in  other  matters,  fhe  dif- 
regarded.  Her  prejudices,  whether  againft 
or  in  favour  of  any  perfon,  were  more 
violent  than  lading  ;  the  impreflions  made 
on  her  mind,  however  ftrong  they  feemed 
to  be,  required  the  prefence-  and  affiduities 
of  the  perfon  who  made  them,  to  prevent 
their  being  effaced.  She  had  never  hi- 
therto feen  any  man  who  had  much  in- 
terefted  her,  when  fhe  met  Mr.  Clifton, 
at  a  very  numerous  afTembly  to  which 
fhe  accompanied  Mrs.  and  Mifs  Eafy. — ' 
Mifs  Barnet  had  feen  him  but  feldcm, 
fince  he  left  the  Univerfity.  This  young 
man's  connections,  hjs  fortune,  the  elegance 

of 


E  D  W  A  R,-  D.  465 

of  his  perfon  and  manners,  his  difpofi- 
tion  to  gallantry,  and  above  all,  the  par- 
tiality which  fome  Ladies  of  diftinguifhed 
rank  and  beauty  had  {hewn  him,  gave  him 
a  degree  of  importance  in  the  fafhionable 
circles,  feldoin  attained  at  his  age.  His 
mother,  Lady  Ann  Clifton,  had  been 
brought  up  in  the  centre  of  fafhion,  had 
remained  in  it  during  her  hufband's  life, 
and  refumed  her  place  at  a  decent  interval 
after  his  death.  She  had  poflefled  a  great 
fhare  of  beauty,  the  duration  of  which  had 
been  much  abridged  by  a  town  life.  Her 
form  was  ftill  elegant,  and  her  manners 
highly  obliging  and  agreeable. — She  had 
refufed  feveral  propofals  for  a  fecond  mar- 
riage, which  by  the  world  in  general 
would  have  been  thought  advantageous  : 
whether  thefe  refufals  proceeded  from  a 
perfonal  diflike  to  the  parties,  or  from  a 
formed  refolutlon  againft  a  fecond  mar- 
riage, is  uncertain.  She  was  exceffively 
fond  of  her  fon,  and  as  vain  of  his  ac- 
complimments,  as  at  an  earlier  period  of 
her  life,  me  had  been  of  her  own  beauty  ; 
VOL,  i.  H  H  {he 


466  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

{he  was  accufed  of 'being  pleafed  even  with 
his  fuccefs  in  gallantry,  particularly  with 
his  attachment  to  Lady  Hornbury,  a 
woman  of  diftinguifhed  beauty,  whofe 
hufband  was  not  fo  delicate  refpeding  his 
wife's  chaftity,  as  Julius  Caefar  is  faid  to 
have  been  ;  for  his  Lordfhip  continued  to 
live  with  her,  notwithftanding  the  fufpi- 
cions  that  prevailed  againft  it.  Lady  Ann 
Clifton  was  the  lefs  uneafy  on  account  of 
her  Ton's  connection  with  Lady  Hornbury, 
becaufe  fhe  imagined  it  diverted  him  from 
amours  more  injurious  to  his  own  health, 
or  which  might  have  proved  more  ruinous 
to  others.  Lady  Ann's  free  manner  of 
thinking  on  fuch  fubjeds  was  thought  the 
more  extraordinary,  becaufe  her  own  cha- 
racter was  unimpeached  in  that  eflential 
article.  Mifs  Barnet  was  ftruck  with  the 
improvement  in  Mr.  Clifton's  manner  and 
whole  appearance,  fmce  (he  had  laft  feen 
him;  he  alfo  derived  confequence  in  her 
eflimation,  from  the  whifper  of  approbation 
that  followed  him  through  the  room,  and 
by  perceiving  that  feveral  young  ladies 

could 


EDWARD.  467 

could  not  conceal  their  fatisfadion  while  he 
continued  to  converfe  with  them,  nor  their 
uneafmefs  when  he  quitted  them  to  addrefs 
another.  She  was  particularly  ftruck  by 
what  fhe  overheard  Lady  Townly  remark 
to  a  Lady  fitting  next  her,  pointing  to 
Clifton  ;  "  That  young  fellow  is  one  of  the 
moft  dangerous  rakes  in  England ;  he  has 
already  turned  the  heads  of  feveral  women 
of  rank,  and  gives  more  uneafmefs  to  huf- 
bands  than  half  the  profligates  about  town." 
While  Mifs  Barnet  was  meditating  on  this 
eulogium,  fhe  was  addrefled  by  Mr.  Worm- 
wood ;  but  the  ufual  compliments  which 
pafled  between  them,  did  not  prevent  her 
from  obferving  that  Clifton  continued 
longer  than  ufual  fpeaking  to  one  Lady, 
whofe  drefs  made  rather  a  more  liberal 
difplay  of  her  charms,  than  the  fafhion 
permitted.  A  Gentleman  at  that  moment 
tapping  Wormwood  on  the  fhoulder,  in- 
quired who  the  gay  Lady  was  who  had 
hold  of  young  Clifton. 

H  H  2  «  That 


EDWARD. 

"  That  gay  Lady,"  replied  Wormwood, 
in  his  farcaftic  ftile,  "  is  the  celebrated 
Mrs.  Dafh,  a  beauty  of  ten  years  ftanding ; 
ihe  feems  to  dread  that  the  artillery  of  her 
eyes  begin  to  flacken  fire  and  lofe  their  ef- 
fect, which  has  determined  her  to  open  a 
mafked  battery,  that,  as  you  fee,  draws 
general  attention,  and  I  am  told  has 
grievoufly  wounded  the  Earl  of  Hornbury. 
I  wonder  where  his  Lordfhip  is  at  this 
inftant ;  for  he  is  fo  jealous,  that  he  cannot 
bear  to  fee  any  man  fpeak  to  Mrs.  Dafh, 
and  would  be  mad  were  he  to  know  with 
what  fatisfadtion  fhe  liftens  to  Clifton." 

"  Lord  Hornbury,"  replied  the  Gentle- 
man, "  is  the  laft  man  in  England  I 
fhould  have  fufpected  of  being  jealous, 
particularly  of  Mr.  Clifton." 

"  Why  fo  ?"    faid  Wormwood. 

"  Becaufe,"  anfwered  the  other,  "  Clif- 
ton's attachment  to  his  own  Lady  feems 
to  give  his  Lordfhip  no  manner  of  unea*- 
fmefs." 

"  That  is  true  enough,"  rejoined  Worm- 
wood; "  but  it' would  feem,  that  my  Lord 
14  has 


EDWARD.  469 

has  been  fo  long  aecuftomed  to  her 
Lady/hip's  ivay^  that  he  can  bear  any 
thing  from  her-,  whereas  Mrs.  Dafh  is  a 
new  flame;  he  wifhes  her  to  be  confidered 
as  his  mtftrefs)  and  there  are  men  fo  very 
delicate,  that  they  cannot  endure  to  be 
cuckolded  by  any  woman  except  their  own 
wives: — but  here  comes  her  Ladyfliip ;  you 
will  prefently  fee  her  draw  Clifton  from 
Mrs.  Dafh,  and  like  a  complaifant  wife, 
leave  that  Lady  open  to  the  addrefles  of  his 
Lordfhip,  in  cafe  he  fhould  arrive." 

During  this  dialogue,  Mifs  Barnet  feemed 
to  be  occupied  with  fomething  elfe,  but  in 
reality  fhe  had  liftened  to  it  with  attention ; 
{he  obferved  that  Lady  Hornbury  had  no 
fooner  caught  fight  of  Clifton,  than  he 
left  Mrs.  Dafh  and  haftened  to  her  Lady- 
fliip.  Lady  Hornbury  had  preferved  her 
beauty  longer  than  moft  women,  but  had 
not  been  fo  fortunate  with  refpedt  to  her 
reputation;  perhaps  the  perfevering  eclat 
of  the  firft  was  one  caufe  that  the  fecond 
was  attacked  with  peculiar  feverity  by  fome 
of  her  own  fex. 

HH  3  The 


470  EDWARD. 

The  town  had  given  her  a  pretty  nume- 
rous fucceflion  of  lovers ;  all  of  whom,  as 
was  generally  aflerted,  had  reafon  to  com- 
plain of  her  inconftancy,  but  few  of  her 
cruelty  ;  the  moft  malicious,  indeed,  made 
no  fcruple  of  declaring,  that  fhe  had  made 
them  all  happy  in  their  turn ;  but  as 
this  was  never  legally  afcertained,  her 
Ladyfhip  maintained  her  fituation  in  fo- 
ciety  as  ufual.  Her  general  reception,  in 
what  they  called  the  beft  aflemblies,  gave 
much  offence  to  fome  fcrupulous  females, 
who  infifted,  that  there  was  as  ftrong 
ground  for  excluding  her,  as  thofe  women 
whofe  delinquency  was  made  manifeft  in  a 
public  court ; — becaufe,  added  they,  "  What 
every  body  fays  mnjl  be  true" 

To  this  however  it  was  anfwered,  that  the 
preceding  maxim,  although  often  repeated 
in  converfation,  had  not  as  yet  been  adopt- 
ed in  law,  and  that  as  falfehood,  cheating 
at  cards,  calumny,  and  ingratitude,  even 
when  detected,  did  not  exclude  the  guilty 
from  the  aflemblies  in  queftion,  it  might 
feem  unjuft  to  punifh  with  fuch  feverity, 

upon 


EDWARD.  471 

upon  mere  fufpicion,  a  crime  lefs  heinous 
in  itfelf,  and  to  which  there  is  more 
temptation. 

That  there  is  more  temptation  was  paf- 
fionately  denied  by  the  moft  violent  of 
thofe,  who  moved  the  Bill  of  Exclufion.  It 
would  be  difficult  perhaps  to  afcertain  this 
point  with  accuracy;  but  it  was  generally 
believed,  that  thofe  who  were  the  moft 
violent  and  inexorable  againft  Lady  Horn- 
bury,  were  fully  as  much  offended  at  her 
beauty,  as  with  her  conduct.  Mils  Barnet 
was  infpired  with  a  defire  to  engage  Clif- 
ton's attention,  which  me  had  never  felt 
before,  and  which  probably  me  would  not 
have  felt  now,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
formidable  account  me  had  juft  heard  of 
him,  and  the  univerfal  wifh  me  perceived 
among  the  Ladies  to  be  noticed  by  him ; 
fhe  had  befides  fome  inclination  to  vex 
and  triumph  over  Lady  Hornbury,  who, 
(he  imagined,  had  behaved  to  her  with 
haughtinefs.  Mifs  Barnet  was  no  wife 
intimidated  in  her  defigns  on  the  heart 
of  Clifton,  by  the  charms  of  her  Ladyfhip, 
H  H  4  which 


472  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

which  having  the  difadvantage  of  being 
older,  could  harldly  be  thought  equal,  and 
were  in  Louifa's  opinion  far  inferior  to 
thofe  fhe  beheld  every  morning  in  her 
looking-glafs. 

Mr.  Clifton,  as  (he  had  for  fome  time 
been  expecting,  accofted  her,  with  the  ufual 
inquiries  refpecting  her  family,  which  lead- 
ing into  other  converfation,  he  was  more 
flruck  than  he  had  ever  been  with  the 
fprightlinefs  of  her  obfervations.  Few  wo- 
men could  be  more  agreeable  than  Mifs 
Barnet  when  fhe  pleafed,  and  fhe  never 
had  been  more  difpofed  to  feem  fo  than  at 
prefent ; — there  was  a  vein  of  farcafm  in 
her  remarks,  and  a  familiarity  in  her  man- 
ner, which  her  mother  had  ftrove  in  vain 
to  correct ;  but  as  her  obfervations  were  as 
lively  as  they  were  fevere,  and  above  all 
as  fhe  was  very  handfome,  her  converfa- 
tion was  pleafmg  to  the  men;  the  laft  cir- 
cumftance,  however,  did  not  render  her 
more  agreeable  to  the  women  in  general, 
and  feveral  Ladies  in  the  company  began 
to  think  her  converfation  with  Clifton  con- 
tinued 


EDWARD.  473 

tinned  too  long.  This  was  not  the  opinion 
of  the  parties  themfelves ;  they  became 
every  inftant  more  agreeable  to  each  other, 
when  a  Gentleman  fent  by  LadyHornbury 
informed  Mr.  Clifton  that  her  Ladylhip 
expeded  him  to  make  up  her  party  at 
cards. 

Mr.  Clifton  having  bowed  to  the  Gen- 
tleman, refumed  his  difcourfe  with  Mifs 
Barnet. 

"  Did  you  not  hear  the  fummons  ?'* 
faid  fhe. 

"  Yes,"  replied  he,  "  but  there  is  time 
enough." 

"  I  fear  her  Ladyfhip  will  be  impatient," 
refumed  Mifs  Barnet. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  that  may  be,"  faid 
Clifton,  "  but  I  plainly  fee  you  are  impa- 
tient that  I  fhould  leave  you." 

"  I  am  certainly,"  replied  Mifs  Barnet, 
'*  becaufe  I  know  that  nothing  would  ren- 
der you  fo  miferable  as  any  mifunder- 
ftanding  with  her  Ladyfhip. " 

"May 


474  EDWARD. 

"  May  I  afk,  if  you  intend  being  at  the 
Opera  to-morrow  evening?"  faid  Mr. 
Clifton. 

Mifs  Barnet.  I  believe  Mrs.  Eafy  intends 
to  go  ;  if  fo  I  fhall  accompany  her. 

Clifton.  I  hope  I  fhall  find  room  in 
her  box. 

Mifs  Barnet.  As  for  room,  I  dare  fwear 
there  will  be  abundance,  but  the  box  has 
one  inconvenience — 

Clifton.  You  do  not  hear  the  fmging 
perfectly  ? 

Mifs  Barnet.  Pardon  me,  we  hear  very 
well. 

Clifton.  You  do  not  fee  the  dancing 
diftinftly  ? 

Mifs  Barnet.  O !  very  distinctly,  no  box 
can  be  better  placed  for  feeing ;  but  it  is 
inconveniently  fituated. 

Clifton.  I  cannot  conceive  how  a  box 
at  the  Opera  can  be  ill  fituated,  in  which 
you  both  hear  and  fee  perfectly. 

Mifs  Barnet.  Can  you  not  conceive  that 
people  may  go  to  the  Opera  more  for 

the 


EDWARD.  475 

the  purpofe  of  being  feen,  than  for  either 
feeing  or  hearing  ? 

Clifton.      I  had  forgot  that. 

Mifs  Barnet.  Nay,  I  only  mentioned 
it  to  fhew  you,  that  a  thing  might  exift 
which  you  could  not  conceive  ;  but  as  for 
Mrs.  Eafy's  box,  the  inconveniency  I  al- 
luded to  is,  that  in  it  people  are  as  diftincl;- 
ly  feen  as  they  fee,  which  you  will  con- 
fider,  no  doubt,  as  an  unfortunate  cir- 
cumftance. 

Clifton.    Howfo? 

Mifs  Barnet*  Why,  it  is  diredly  oppofite 
to  that  of  theCountefs  of  Hornbury's. 

Clifton  (laughing).  In  fpite  of  that  alarm- 
ing circumftance,  with  your  permiffion,  I'll 
venture  into  it  to-morrow  night. 

Mifs  Bar  net.  You  are  a  bold  man ;  but 
in  the  mean  time,  pray  obey  her  Ladyfhip's 
fummons,  for  do  you  fee  my  Lord  has  juft 
come,  and  might  take  it  amifs  that  you 
ftiould  keep  his  wife  waiting,  unlefs — added 
{he,  with  a  fly  look,  and  then  flopped. 

Clifton.   Unlefs  what? 

Mifs 


476  EDWARD. 

Mtfs  Barnef.  Unlefs  you  expect  that  he 
will  pardon  your  neglect  of  his  wife  in  con- 
fideration  of  the  attentions  you  feem  willing 
to  beftow  on  Mrs,  Dam. 

Clifton.  Where  did  you  pick  up  all  this 
fcandal  ? 

Mifs  Barnet.  All  over  the  town.  We 
made  a  vaft  number  of  vifits  of  late — but 
pray  be  gone;  here  comes  a  fecond  meflage; 
her  Lady  {hip's  eyes  dart  lightning,  and  we 
may  have  thunder,  if  you  do  not  make  off 
direaiy. 

Clifton  anfwered  her  only  by  a  fmile,  and 
then  joined  Lady  Hornbury's  party.  He 
loft  his  money,  and  fpoke  little. 

"  It  might  have  been  imagined,"  faid 
Lady  Hornbury,  "  that  the  lofs  of  your 
money  affected  your  fpirits,  had  you  been 
in  high  fpirits  when  you  began  to  play." 

"  It  is  not  eafy  to  appear  in  high  fpirits 
with  a  head-ach,"  faid  Clifton  ;  and  foon 
after,  on  pretence  that  his  head-ach  in- 
creafed,  he  left  the  aflembly. 

Contrary  to  his  ufual  cuftom,  Mr,  Clifton 
was  at  the  Opera  the  following  evening  be* 

fore 


EDWARD.  477 

fore  the  curtain  was  drawn  up  ;  he  went 
to  Mrs.  Eafy's  box,  as  foon  as  he  faw 
her  arrive  with  her  daughter  and  Mifs 
Barnet.  After  paying  his  compliments  to 
them,  fome  other  acquaintance  of  Mrs. 
and  Mifs  Eafy  entered  the  box,  and 
while  they  entertained  her  and  her  daugh- 
ter, Clifton  converfed  with  Mifs  Barnet. 
She  was  relating  fomething  to  him,  when 
fuddenly  flopping  in  the  middle  of  the 
narrative,  flie  faid,  "  You  fhall  hear  the 
reft  another  time,  but  you  muft  be  gone 
now  ! " 

Clifton.   Why,  what  is  the  matter  ? 

Mifs  Barnet.  Do  you  not  fee  Lady 
? 

Clifton.   Pray  continue. 

Mifs  Barnet.  Heaven  forbid  that  my  un- 
lucky ftory  fhould  detain  you  a  moment ! 

Clifton.   I  beg  you  will  go  on. 

Mifs  Barnet.  What !  with  the  crime  of 
yefterday  unexpiated — but,  perhaps  you 
have  feen  her  Ladyfhip  this  morning,  and 
have  already  obtained  her  pardon  ? 

Clifton.   I  beg  you  will  proceed. 

Mifs 


478  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

Mifs  Bamet.  You  have  been  with  her 
then  ?  I  muft  be  fatisfied  in  this  point. 

Clifton.  I  have  not  feen^her  Ladyfhip 
fmce  laft  night. 

Mifs  Barnet.  Monftrous !  but  look,  her 
eye  has  caught  you  5  why  don't  you  haften 
to  her  ? 

Clifton.  Becaufe,  if  you  will  allow  me, 
I  would  rather  flay  where  I  am. 

Mifs  Barnet.  Nay,  it  is  out  of  tendernefs 
for  you  that  I  am  anxious  for  your  going  ; 
only  behold  how  angry  {he  feems — Pray  be 
gone. 

Clifton.  I  will  not  flir  until  you  have 
finifhed  your  ftory. 

Mifs  Barnet.  Have  a  care  what  you  fay ; 
I  can,  if  I  pleafe,  fpin  out  a  ftory  like  the 
Sultanefs  in  the  Arabian  Nights  Entertain- 
ment. 

Clifton.  Spin  away  then,  O  beauteous 
Scherazade  !  I  am  all  attention. 

Mifs  Barnet.  Since  it  is  your  pleafqre, 
moft  mighty  Father  of  the  Faithful,  I  will 
proceed,  though  confcious  that  the  tale  is 
all  unworthy  of  the  fublime  highnefs  of 

your  Majefty's  ears. 

Here 


EDWARD.  479 

Here  Clifton  burft  into  a  violent  fit  of 
laughter,  in  which  he  was  accompanied  by 
Mifs  Barnet  and  Mifs  Eafy.  The  exceffive 
gaiety  which  prevailed  in  Mrs.  Eafy's  box, 
through  the  whole  evening,  feemed  to  throw 
a  gloom  on  that  immediately  oppofite  to  it ; 
and  Lady  Hornbury's  ill-humour  was  ap- 
parent to  all  prefent. 

Mr.  Clifton  remained  to  the  end  of  the 
opera,  and  did  not  quit  Mrs.  Eafy  until  he 
handed  her,  her  daughter,  and  Mifs  Barnet, 
into  the  carriage  ;  fo  that  the  triumph  of  the 
latter  over  Lady  Hornbury  was  complete. 

The  fatisfaclion  which  Mifs  Barnet  de- 
rived from  this  triumph,  with  theincreafing 
partiality  fhe  felt  for  Mr.  Clifton,  intoxi- 
cated her  fo  much,  that  fhe  did  not  fuffici- 
ently  weigh  the  nature  and  tendency  of  his 
afliduities,  nor  the  drift  of  his  language, 
which  was  gay,  nattering,  and  gallant,  in 
the  higheft  degree,  but  kept  entirely  clear 
of  any  hint  of  a  nature,  which  alone  could 
have  rendered  it  prudent  or  proper  for  the* 
young  Lady  to  have  liftened  to  him  in  the 
diftinguifhed  manner  flie  did.  Mifs  Barnet 
4  was 


480  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

•was  pleafed  with  Clifton's  fprightlinefs,  de- 
lighted with  the  idea  of  mortifying  Lady 
Hornbury,  and  of  engrofling  the  affiduities 
of  a  man,  whofe  attentions  were  fo  much 
defired  by  the  moft  fafhionable  of  her  fex 
and  acquaintance:  charmed  with  the  prefent 
gratification  of  her  vanity,  future  confe- 
quences  never  diiturbed  the  gaiety  of  her 
reflections. 


EDWARD.  481 


CHAP.     XLVI. 

Ce  qui  fe  trouve  de  moins  dans  la  galanterie,  c'eft  de 
1'amour.  ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

PEW  young  men  are  endowed  with  a  ftea- 
dinefs  of  judgment  fufficient  to  fecure 
them  from  the  vanity  which  the  attentions 
and  favours  of  beauty  are  fo  apt  to  create  : 
it  has  been  doubted  whether  Alcibiades  de- 
rived more  pride  from  the  victories  he 
gained  over  his  enemies  in  the  field,  than 
from  thofe  he  obtained  over  the  hearts  of  his 
fair  countrywomen. 

The  marked  partiality  with  which  Clifton 
had  been  diftinguifhed  by  the  women  from 
the  time  that  he  firft  appeared  in  the  circles 
of  fafhion,  had  already  begun  to  fwell  his 
heart  with  a  degree  of  pride  and  felf-import- 
ance  that  did  not  naturally  belong  to  it, 
while  the  converfation  and  example  of  cer- 
tain men  of  gallantry,  of  much  longer 
{landing  than  himfelf,  inclined  him  to  con- 

VOL.  I.  II  fider 


482  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

fider  the  arts  of  fedudion  pracYifed  on  wo- 
ment  as  venial,  in  companion  with  any- 
other  fpecies  of  perfidy. 

It  has  been  already  mentioned,  that  Lady 
Ann  Clifton  viewed  her  fon's  gallantries  in  a 
lighter  manner  than  they  deferred.  When 
fhe  underftood  that  he  was  fo  often  with 
Mifs  Earner,  fhe  laid  to  him,  one  day,  "  I 
fhould  be  forry  to  think  you  had  formed 
any  plan  of  playing  the  fool  with  that 
girl  ;  if  you  have,  1  heartily  hope  that 
flie  will  have  the  wit  to  efcape  your  fnares; 
but  I  am  ftill  more  folicitous  that  you 
{hould  efcape  Uer's.  Mifs  Barnet  is  one  of 
the  prettied  brunetts  I  ever  faw,  and  does 
not  want  addrefs  j  the  excellent  character  of 
her  mother  has  procured  her  the  efteem  of 
all  who  know  her  ;  but  I  could  not  bear  to 
be  connected  with  that  ridiculous  man  the 
father ;  and  as  I  do  not  often  play  the  moni- 
tor, or  interfere  at  all  in  your  amufements, 
I  expect,  my  dear  Jack,  that  you  will  fpare 
me  fuch  a  mortification,  and  give  me  full 
aflurance,  that  you  have  no  idea  of  marriage 

in  the  prefent  cafe." 

To 


EDWARD.  483 

To  this  remonftrance  Clifton,  in  the  mod 
ferious  manner,  declared,  that  he  had  not ; 
and  then  added,  with  a  fmile,  that  if  it 
would  give  his  mother  any  farther  fati£- 
fadion,  he  would  promife  never  to  marry 
in  his  life. 

Lady  Ann  replied,  "  That,  fo  far  from, 
expe&ing  any  fuch  promife,  the  greateft 
happinefs  to  which  me  looked  forward  in 
life  was  founded  on  the  hope  of  feeing  him 
•well  married  ;  but  (he  was  perfuaded,  that 
a  confiderable  alteration  muft  take  place  in 
his  manner  of  life  and  manner  of  think- 
ing, before  me  could  wifh  to  fee  it  take 
place. 

"  Reft  fatisfied,  my  dear  Madam,  that  I 
have  no  fuch  plan  at  prefent,"  faid  Clifton, 
and  immediately  retired. 

As  this  youth's  attachment  to  Lady 
Hornbury  had  been  brought  about  more 
by  her  Ladyfhip's  manoeuvres,  than  by 
his  own,  he  had  lefs  to  reproach  himfelf 
with  in  that,  than  fome  of  his  other 
intrigues ;  but  notwithftanding  that  the 
i  i  2  natural 


484  EDWARD. 

natural  candour  of  his  mind  had  been 
in  fome  degree  perverted,  as  above- 
mentioned,  he  was  not  perfectly  free 
from  compunction,  on  account  of  that 
train  of  life,  which  his  paffions  and 
vanity  led  him  into.  Keen  in  the  pur- 
fuit  of  pleafure,  he  fpent  lefs  of  his 
time  with  Edward  than  formerly ;  but 
he  valued  no  man's  approbation  fo  much, 
and  he  would  have  felt  lighter  at  heart, 
when  reflecting  on  fome  parts  of  his 
own  conduct,  had  he  been  able  to  bring 
his  friend  to  fee  it  in  the  fame  palliative 
light  that  fome  others  did.  With  a  view 
to  procure  himfelf  this  kind  of  confo- 
lation,  Clifton  ibme'times  introduced,  as  a 
fubjedl:  of  converfation,  the  arts  of  de- 
ceit fo  often  practifed  in  what  is  called 
gallantry,  and  which  Jie  treated  with  that 
partiality  which  men  ufually  have  for 
their  own  failings.  On  fuch  occafions 
Edward  did  not  ufe  the  qualifying  terms 
employed  by  his  friend,  who  therefore 
found  himfelf  always  difappointed  in  the 

pal- 


EDWARD.  485 

palliations  he  wiihed  for.  Clifton,  in  a 
controverfy  on  this  fubjed  one  day,  fpoke 
of  gallantry  as  a  game* 

*'  Are  you  not  {hocked,"  faid  Edward, 
"  at  the  unfairnefs  of  the  flakes?  Does  not 
the  man  play  at  a  moft  ungenerous  ad- 
vantage ?  What  proportion  is  there  be- 
tween the  ruin  the  woman  rifks,  and  the 
inconveniencies  to  which  the  man  may  be 
fubjected  ?  What  would  you  think  of  the 
cautious  gamefler,  who  would  endeavour 
to  perfuade  an  eafy  youth  to  flake  a  thou- 
fand  pounds  againfl  a  milling  ?  " 

"  As  you  are  no  Jofeph  in  your  prac- 
tice, my  friend,"  replied  Clifton,  "  one 
might  expecl:  lefs  feverity  in  your  ex- 
preflions." 

"  Without  infifling  on  the  difference," 
faid  Edward,  "  that  there  is  between  fe- 
ducing  a  woman  into  what  me  ivi/bes  to 
avoid)  arid  being  a  party  with  her  in 
what  me  is  refolvcd  to  do,  I  will  not  at- 
tempt to  juflify,  either  in  myfelf  or  you, 
my  dear  Clifton,  what  I  know  to  be 
J I  3  wrong  \ 


486  EDWARD. 

wrong  :  if  we  cannot  aft  as  we  ought, 
let  us  at  leaft  abftain  from  confirming  our 
minds  in  error,  by  vicious  principles,  which 
tend  to  deaden  even  the  defire  of  acting 
better,  and  to  pervert  the  conduct  of  thofe 
whofe  paflions  might  not  have  been  of 
ftrength  fufficient  to  have  drawn  them 
into  erroneous  or  criminal  purfuits." 

Thofe  difputes  had  not  diminifhed  their 
friendihip,  nor  the  entire  confidence  which 
the  two  youths  had  in  each  other.    On  one 
occafion,  when   the   fubject  of  their  con- 
verfation  was  matrimony,  Clifton  declared, 
<*  That  if  by  any  art  on  the  part  of  the 
woman,    or   any  infatuation   of  his    own, 
he  fhould  ever  be  drawn  into  that  fcrape, 
it  would  be  unfortunate  for  both;   becaufe 
a  woman    without  delicacy  would  imme- 
diately   become   odious  in    his    eyes,    and 
to  a  woman  of  delicacy  he  mould  make  a 
ihocking  hufband,  for  his    natural   fickle- 
nefs  was  fuch,    that   no  woman,  however 
amiable   in  .mind  and  perfon,  could  over- 
come it,    being  convinced   that  paflion  in 
him  could  not  furvive  pofleflion  a  fingle 
9  month  ; 


EDWARD.  487 

month  ;  and  that  the  idea  of  diflembling 
affection  in  the  midft  of  indifference, 
was  to  him  infupportable  ;  for  which 
reafon,  when  any  thing  crofs  or  difagree- 
able  had  ever  occurred,  he  had  always 
confoled  himfelf  with  the  reflection,  that 
unlucky  as  it  might  be,  ftill  it  was  but 
a  flight  misfortune,  in  comparifon  with 
that  of  beiog  married ;  and  the  recol- 
lection of  his  being  in  a  much  more 
comfortable  fituation  than  thofe  who 
failed  on  the  boifterous  ocean  of  matri- 
mony, never  failed  to  throw  a  ray  of  fatif- 
fadion  thro'  the  darkeft  gloom  that  his 
mind  had  ever  hitherto  experienced,  not 
becaufe  he  had  any  pleafure  in  the  diftrefs 
of  others,  repeating  from  Lucretius, 

Suave,  mari  mag  no  turbantibus  sequora  ventis, 
E  terra  magnum  alterius  fpeclare  laborem  : 
Ncn  quia  vexari  quemquam  eft  jucunda  voluptas, 
Sed,  quibus  ipfe  mails  careas,  quia  cernere  fuave  eft; 

and  then  added,  that  he  had  been  often 
afhamed  to  repine  at  the  croffeft  accident 
that  befel  himfelf,  when  he  looked  around 
and  fav?  fo  many  married  men,  all  of 
114  whom 


488  ,  EDWARD. 

whom  had,  of  courfe,  more  reafon  to 
complain  of  their  lot,  than  he  had,  and 
yet  fome  of  them  feemed  to  bear  it  with 
wonderful  patience  and  refignation." 

To  fuch  declarations,  which  were  made 
'partly  in  a  ferious  manner,  and  partly  with 
an  air  of  pleafantry,  Edward  replied  in  the 
fame  ftyle. 

**  Very  well,  my  friend,  fmce  you  are 
rcfolved  never  to  marry,  the  fex  muft  bear 
"  it  as  well  as  they  can  ; — but  you  certainly 
have  no  right  to  behave  to  any  one  of 
them,  as  if  you  had  made  a  contrary  refo- 
lution  in  her  favour,  " 


E  D  \V  A  R  D.  489 


CHAP.     XLVII. 

L«  plus  grand  effort  de  I'amuie  n'eft  pas  de  montrer 
nos  defaults  a  un  ami,  c'eft  de  lui  faire  voir  le  fiens. 

ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

r\  N  E  evening  after  he  had  drank  tea  at 
Mrs.  Eafy's,  Clifton  finding  himfelf 
in  no  difpofition  to  go  to  any  of  the  public 
amufements,  and  ftill  lefs  inclined  to  go 
to  bed,  he  drove  to  Edward's  chambers, 
whom  he  rejoiced  to  find  at  home  and 
alone  ;  but  he  was  hardly  feated  when 
Carnaby  Maukifh  entered  :  "  I  am  in  high 
luck,  my  dear  fellows,  in  finding  you 
both,"  faid  Carnaby;  "  I  am  juft  come 
from  the  Playhoufe,  where  a  new  piece 
was  a&ed." 

"  How  did  you  like  it  ?"  faid  Edward. 

"  I  paid  little  or  no  attention  to  it," 
replied  Carnaby ;  "  but  I  joined  with  the 
hhTers." 

"  Why  foT  refumed  Edward. 

"  I  under- 


490  EDWARD. 

"  I  underftand,"  fa  id  Carnaby,  "  that  at 
prcfent,  the  chance  of  being  right  is  greatly 
in  their  favour — Mr.  Wormwood  was  in 
ihe  fame  box,  and  vehemently  of  our  fide  : 
the  piece  however  was  fnatched  from  the 
jaws  of  damnation,  by  the  ability  and 
addrefs  of  the  players ;  for  which  Worm- 
wood fwore  they  deferved  to  be  damned 
themfelves.  He  was  leaving  the  box,  when, 
to  induce  him  to  remain,  I  aflured  him, 
that  if  he  would  only  ftay  till  the  farce 
was  over,  I  would  afterwards  accompany 
him  to  fupper;  he  anfwered  that  he  had 
already  got  fuch  a  furfeit  of  nonfenfe^  that 
he  could  bear  no  more  that  night.  I  then 
offered  to  go  with  him,  without  waiting 
for  the'  farce;  for  to  confefs  the  truth  I 
hate  nonfenfe  as  much  as  he  does,  but 
he  hurried  out,  notwithstanding  all  I  could 
fay,  crying,  *  No,  no,  by  heavens,  I 
cannot  bear  any  more  this  night,'  and  fo 
out  he  flung,  fhutting  the  box-door  with 
violence  after  him  ;  on  which'* 

There  is  no  knowing  how  long  Car- 
caby's  clack  would  have  continued,  had 

it 


EDWARD.  49I 

it  not  been  interrupted  by  a  conjunct  burft 
of  laughter  from  Clifton  and  Edward. 

"  I  am  glad  to  fee  you  fo  merry,  Gen- 
tlemen," faid  Garnaby,  fomewhat  piqued. 

"  Who  could  refrain  from  laughter,  my 
good  fellow,"  faid  Edward,  "  at  the  abfur- 
dity  of  breaking  from  you,  becaufe  he 
was  difgufted  at  the  infipidity  of  a  play  ?" 

"  How  prepofterous  !"  added  Clifton, 
"  for  a  man  to  fly  from  found  fenfe,  be- 
caufe he  was  tired  of  nonfenfe." 

"  Why,  it  muft  i>e  confefled,"  faid  Car- 
naby,  recovering  his  good-humour,  "  that 
i  have  long  fufpected  Wormwood  to  be 
a  very  filly  old  fellow — but  where  fhall 
we  fup?" 

To  this  queftion,  Clifton,  who  was  not 
in  a  humour  for  Carnaby's  company,  an- 
fwered,  "  You  muft  excufe  us  this  night; 
I  have  private  bufmefs  with  Edward,  and 
am  juft  arrived  on  that  account." 

"  Private  bufmefs  ! — egad,  that  is  a  good 
one,"  faid  Carnaby,  "  all  the  world  knows 
that  your  private  bufmefs  is  entirely  with 
the  women;  and  I  heard,  this  very  day, 

that 


49^  EDWARD. 

that  you  had  broken  with  Lady  Horn- 
bury,  and  were  entirely  devoted  to  Mifs 
Barnet." 

Clifton  did  not  reliih  this  obfervation, 
particularly  in  the  hearing  of  Edward;  he 
anfwered  in  fomewhat  of  an  angry  tone, 
that  he  was  furprifed  that  a  man  of  Mr. 
Shadow's  profound  fenfe  mould  retail 
every  falfe  or  idle  obfervation  he  heard. 
— Carnaby  began  to  apologize,  but  Clifton 
interrupted  him,  repeating,  that  he  had 
particular  bufmefs  with  Edward. 

"  It  is  curfed  hard,  however,"  faid  Car- 
naby, "  that  your  bufmefs  mould  be  on 
this  night,  for  I  do  not  know  what  the 
devil  to  do  with  myfelf." 

<c  It  is  furprifmg,  that  you  mould  be  at 
a  lofs  to  pafs  two  hours  in  your  own 
company,"  faid  Edward. 

"  It  may  be  as  furprifmg  as  it  pleafes," 
replied  Carnaby,  as  he  was  leaving  the 
room;  "  but  I'll  be  hanged  if  it  is  not  true, 
for  I  do  not  know  what  the  devil  to  do 
with  myfelf." 

"The 


EDWARD.  493 

«'  The  delightful  fituation  in  which  poor 
Carnaby  declares  himfelf  to  be,"  faid  Cltf- 
ton  to  Edward,  after  the  other  was  gone, 
**•  I  fancy  you  never  experienced  ?" 

"  I  am  certain  I  mould  fometimes  have 
a  tafte  of  it,  however,"  replied  Edward, 
"  were  it  not  for  the  entertainment  which 
thefe  ingenious  gentlemen  afford  me," 
pointing  to  his  books  ;  "  for  to  fay  the 
truth,  I  can  hardly  conceive  how  life,  fhort 
as  it  is,  can  be  paffed  without  many  dreary 
intervals  of  tedium,  by  thofe  who  have  not 
their  bread  to  earn,  if  they  could  not  call 
in  the  afiiftance  of  our  worthy  mute  friends 
there." 

Clifton.  Have  we  net  horfes,  hounds, 
the  theatres,  cards,  and  the  bottle  ? 

Edward.  They  are  all  of  ufe  occafion- 
ally,  no  doubt,  but  the  weather  may  for- 
bid the  two  firft;  the  fame  kind  of  non- 
fenfe  which  difgufted  our  friend  Worm- 
wood, may  drive  us  from  the  third  ;  the 
aflbciation  of  others  is  necefTary  for  the 
fourth,  and  alfo  for  the  fifth,  unlefs  to 
thofe  who  are  already  funk  into  the  low- 
eft 


494  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

eft  ftate  of  wretchednefs  and  degradation  : 
but  the  entertainment  which  books  afford 
can  be  enjoyed  in  the  worft  weather,  can 
be  varied  as  we  pleafe,  obtained  in  folitude, 
and,  inftead  of  blunting,  fharpens  the  un- 
derftanding  ;  but  the  moft  valuable  effect  of 
a  tafte  for  reading  is,  that  it  often  preferves 
us  from  bad  company. 

Clifton.    How  do  you  mean  ? 

Edward.  I  mean,  that  thofe  are  not 
apt  to  go  to  or  remain  with  difagreeable 
people  abroad,  who  are  always  certain  of  a 
pleafant  party  at  home. 

Clifton.  This  happy  turn  of  mind  you 
fcowe  to  Mrs.  Barnet,  Ned. 

Edward.  I  lie  under  infinite  obligations 
to  that  excellent  woman  ;  my  tafte  for  read- 
ing was  firft  cherifhed  and  improved  by 
her  ;  but  the  misfortunes  of  my  childhood 
were,  perhaps,  what  principally  excited  early 
reflection,  and  led  me  to  a  fondnefs  for 
iludy. 

"  What  a  lively  pretty  girl  her  daughter 
has  become  ?"  faid  Clifton,  a  little  abruptly, 

from 


EDWARD.  495 

from  his  thinking  more  on  the  young  Lady 
than  on  what  Edward  had  faid. 

Edward.    Mifs  Barnet  was  always  ib. 
Clifton.     Particularly    of  late  ;    there  is 
fomething  extremely  agreeable  about  her, 
and  Ihe  is  not  deficient  in  wit. 

Edward.  How  could  the  daughter  of 
fuch  a  woman  as  Mrs.  Barnet  have  been 
deficient  in  wit  ? 

Clifton.  No  otherwife,  perhaps,  than  by 
the  accident  of  her  being  alfo  the  daughter 
of  fuch  a  man  as  Mr.  Barnet. 

Edward.  I  fhould  flill  have  expected 
wit  to  predominate  in  their  daughter. 

Clifton  (fmiling).  That  is  to  fay,  that  the 
mother's  wit  is  greater  than  the  father's 
dullnefs,  which  I  meant  not  to  conteft  with 
you. 

Edward  (a  little  warmly).    I  have  not 
admitted  the  latter;  but  of  this  I  am  certain, 
that  Mr.  Barnet  has  performed  acts  of  be- 
nevolence, that  would  do  honour  to  the 
"greateft  wit  in  the  nation. 

Clifton.  I  know  it,  and  honour  him  for 
it,  my  dear  Ned  j  I  wiih  to  fay  nothing  dif- 

refpec>M 


496  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

refpectful  of  Mr.  Barnet,  but  I  was  fpeaking 
of  Mifs  Barnet\  wit,  of  which  fhe  certainly 
has  a  confiderable  fhare,  as  well  as  her 
mother,  although  their  manner  is  fotnewhat 
different. 

Edward.  Mrs.  Barnet's  converfation 
leaves  the  impreflion  that  fhe  pofTefTes  more 
'wit  than  {he  choofes  to  difplay. 

Clifton.  Whereas  her  daughter,  perhaps, 
is  fond  of  exhibiting  all  that  fhe  has. 

Edward.  You  feem  ftrangely  inclined 
to-day  to  draw  inferences  from  what  I  fay ; 
that  I  did  not  mean  ;  Mifs  Barnet  is  equally 
fprightly  and  agreeable ;  but  it  is  naturally 
to  be  expected  that  the  converfation  of  a 
lively  young  woman  will  be  different  from 
that  of  a  woman  of  more  age  and  expe- 
rience. 

To  this  Clifton  anfwered,'  "  Surely, 
furely ;"  and  then  introduced  a  new 
fubjeft  of  converfation  ;  during  which, 
however,  he  fometimes  difcovered  that 
he  was  ftili  occupied  with  that  from 
which  he  had  fo  fuddenly  turned ;  for 
4  once 


EDWARD.  497 

once  or  twice  he  mentioned  Mifs  Barnet, 
inftead  of  another  Lady  of  whom  they  were 
talking. 

Thefe  repeated  inftances  of  abfence  at 
length  ftruck  Clifton  himfelf,  made  him, 
leave  his  friend  fooner  than  he  intended, 
and  were  afterwards  the  caufe  of  his  avoid- 
ing to  fpeak  of  Mifs  Barnet,  and  of  his 
maintaining  great  referve  in  Edward's  pre- 
fence,  when  her  name  was  mentioned  by 
any  other  perfon. 

This  did  not  efcape  the  obfervation  of 
Edward  ;  who  being  afterwards  informed 
from  better  authority  than  that  of  Mr. 
Carnaby  Shadow,  that  Clifton  no  more  vi- 
fited  Lady  Hornbury,  and  was  frequently 
at  Mrs.  Eafy's,  he  took  a  ftrong  fufpicion 
that  Mifs  Barnet  was  the  caufe  of  his  breach 
with  the  one,  and  his  vifits  to  the  other. 

The  unvaried  propriety  of  Edward's  be- 
haviour to  that  young  Lady,  joined  to  the 
general  fweetnefs  of  his  manners,  had  long 
fince  effaced  the  prejudice  which  in  her 

VOL.  i.  K  K  early 


498  E  D  W  A  R  D. 

early  youth  {he  had  entertained  againft  him  ; 
he,  en  his  part,  viewed  with  the  partiality 
of  a  brother  every  good  quality  fhe  poflefled, 
and  felt  an  additional  intereft  in  her,  as  the 
daughter  of  the  perfon  on  earth  for  whom 
he  had  the  higheft  efteem  and  warmeft  af- 
fection; but  that  referve  which  her  former 
conduct  had  obliged  him  to  afiume,  he  ftill 
maintained  towards  her,  notwithstanding 
that  her  behaviour  to  him  was  more  eafy 
and  frank  than  formerly.  This,  without 
weakening  the  efteem  which  Louifa  en-, 
tertained  for  Edward,  rendered  her  lefs 
lively  in  his  company,  than  in  that  of 
others. 

From  the  moment  that  Edward  perceived 
Clifton's  attention  directed  to  Mifs  Barnet, 
he  was  uneafy  on  her  account ;  the  feducing 
graces  of  his  perfon  and  manner,  the  loofe- 
nefs  of  his  principles  in  matters  of  gallantry, 
his  averfioa  to  marriage,  and  her  entire 
want  of  caution,  increafed  his  uneafmefs  the 
more  he  reflected  on  them;  and  he  was 
much  at  a  lofs  how  he  ought  to  act.  The 

referve 


EDWARD.  499 

referve  which  had  been  fo  long  kept  up 
between  him  and  Mifs  Barnet  rendered  it 
difficult  for  him  to  give  her  any  caution  on 
the  fubject ;  and  when  it  occurred  to  him 
to  unfold  the  fource  of  his  uneafmefs  to 
Mrs.  Earnet,  he  fhrunk  from  the  idea  of 
hinting  any  thing  to  the  difadvantage  of  his 
friend.  He  felt  equal  reluctance  againft 
infmuating  any  thing  to  Mifs.  Barnet's  dif- 
advantage, or  which  could,  in  any  way, 
hurt  the  fenfibility  of  her  mother. 

He  refolved  at  laft  to  ifpeak  to  Clifton 
on  the  fubjecl:;  but  as  often  as  he  began 
to  put  his  refolution  into  practice,  being 
himfelf  a  good  deal  agitated,  his  manner  was 
rather  folemn,  and  Clifton  met  his  fo- 
lemnity  with  fo  much  pleafantry,  and 
evaded  his  inquiries  with  fuch  a  carelefsair 
of  jocularity,  as  at  once  defeated  Edward's 
purpofe,  and  diminifhed  his  fufpicions. 

With  whatever    affiduity   Edward    had 

fludied  the  law,  he  had  no  great  defire  for 

following  it  as  a  profeffion.     This  had  been 

long  known  to  Clifton,  who  therefore  had 

K  K   2  been 


500  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

been  exerting  all  his  interefl  with  his  friend?, 
fome  of  whom  were  at  this  time  in  power, 
to  obtain  a  refpectable  fituation  for  Edward, 
which  would  put  him  out  of  the  neceffity 
of  becoming  a  profefled  lawyer. 

Mr.  Clifton,  however,  faid  nothing  of  this 
to  Edward,  until  he  had  good  affurance  of 
fuccefs,  which  he  received  a  little  before  the 
period  we  are   treating  of,  and  was   then 
happy  to  find  that  the  fituation  he  had  in  view 
was  extremely  agreeable  to  Edward,  who 
immediately   acquainted   Mrs.  Barnet,  ex- 
prefling  to  her  that  deep  fenfe  of  gratitude 
which  Clifton's  conduct  had  imprefled   on 
his  mind,  but   of  which  he  had  been  un- 
able to  fay  a  word  to  Clifton   himfelf.     It 
was  agreed  not  to  mention  to  Mr.  Barnet 
what  was  in  view  for  Edward,  until  fuccefs 
was  more  certain.    At  this  particular  time, 
therefore,  Clifton's  mind  was  occupied  with 
two  objects  as  oppofite  as  virtue  and  vice  j  a 
folicitude   to  ferve  the  man  and  ruin  the 
woman  he    loved.     It  might  naturally  be 
thought    that    two   defigns    of    fuch    dif- 

ccrdant 


EDWARD.  501 

cordant  natures  could  not  be  formed  in  the 
fame  breaft ;  thofe  who  think  fo  are  unac- 
quainted with  the  power  of  prejudice  and 
influence  of  manners,  in  perverting  our 
views  of  things. 


3 


502  E  D  W  A  R  D. 


CHAP.     XLVIII. 

Ce    qui  rend  la  vanite    des   autres    infupportable,   c'eft 
qu'elle  blefle  la  notre.  ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

T  ADY  Hornbury  was  piqued  in  the  moft 
fenfible  manner,  at  being  fo  openly  de- 
ferted  by  Clifton  ;  her  vanity  was  much 
more  wounded  than  her  affection  ;  of  the 
firftfhe  had  a  great  deal,  of  the  fecond  a  very 
fmall  quantity  ;  and  what  little  (he  poflefled, 
{he  had  the  faculty  of  turning  from  one  ob- 
ject to  another  with  wonderful  facility,  as 
whim  or  ambition  prompted.  Had  flie  fore- 
feen  the  moment  that  Clifton  was  to  quit 
her,  fhe  would  have  precluded  the  mortifi- 
cation, by  difcharging  him  from  vifiting 
her ;  and  the  blow  being  thus  warded  from 
her  vanity,  fhe  would  have  diredlly  looked 
out  for  a  new  lover,  with  undifturbed  cool- 
nefs  and  circumfpection.  But  the  abrupt 

manner 


EDWARD.  503 

manner  of  Clifton's  quiting  her  had  put  this 
out  of  her  power,  and  produced  nine-tenths 
of  the  uneafmeis  fhe  felt  on  the  fubjedt. 

A  female  friend  of  Lady  Hornbury,  juft 
fuch  a  friend  as  her  Ladyship  was  herfelf, 
entertained  her  one  forenoon  with  a  long 
enumeration  of  circumftanees,  to  prove  how 
much  Mr.  Clifton  was  attached  to  Mifs 
Earner.  This  fhe  did,  under  the  femblance 
of  abufing  Clifton,  but  in  reality  to  enjoy 
her  dear  friend's  mortification ;  and  fhe  con- 
cluded by  hinting,  that  fhe  wquld  write  to 
Mrs.  Barnet,  with  whom  fhe  had  a  flight 
acquaintance,  to  inform  her  of  the  danger- 
ous fituation  in  which  her  daughter  was, 
that  fhe  might  fend  for  her  to  the  country. 
Lady  Hornbury,  who  was  not  entirely 
blind  to  the  real  motives  of  her  friend, 
heard  her  narrative  with  an  air  of  indiffe- 
rence, thanked  her  for  her  obliging  inten- 
tions, begging  however,  that  fhe  would  not 
put  them  in  execution,  on  the  pretence  that 
a  hint  of  that  nature  was  liable  to  malignant 
conftru&ion. 

K  K  4  Lady 


504  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

Lady  Hornbury's  treal  motive  for  pre* 
eluding  Mrs.  Barnet  from  this  information 
was,  that  her  hatred  to  Mifs  Barnet  was 
greater  than  her  love  for  Clifton  had  ever 
been,  and  fhe  actually  wifhed  him  fpeedily 
to  fucceed  in  his  defigns  on  the  young  Lady; 
becaufe  (he  thought  there  was  a  greater 
probability  of  his  becoming  defirous  of  re- 
turning to  herfelf  after  fuccefs  than  before, 
not  that  fhe  wifhed  ever  to  renew  with 
him,  but  merely  that  fhe  might  fhew  the 
world  fhe  had  it  in  her  power,  and  had 
rejected  it. 

From  Mr.  Clifton's  repeated  vifits,  and 
his  particular  attention  to  Mifs  Barnet,  Mrs. 
Eafy  began  to  imagine  that  he  intended  to 
propofe  marriage  to  that  young  Lady,  for 
fhe  had  not  any  fufpicion  of  his  harbouring 
lefs  honourable  defigns  ;  but  fhe  deferred 
giving  any  hint  of  this  to  Mrs.  Barnet,  until 
her  conjecture  fhould  be  fupported  by  ftill 
Wronger  prefumptions. 

Mifs  Barnet  found  her  vanity  gratified, 
and  her  mind  amufed  by  the  gay  converfa- 

tion 


EDWARD.  505 

tion  of  Clifton  ;  the  hours  danced  lightly 
along ;  fhe  was  in  everlafting  good  humour 
and  high  fpirits,  which  never  for  a  moment 
were  lowered  by  reflection.  Mifs  Eafy  was 
fincerely  attached  to  Mifs  Barnet ;  delighted 
with  the  company  of  Clifton  ;  law,  without 
envy,  the  preference  he  and  the  men  in 
general  gave  her  friend,  of  whole  fuperior 
power  of  pleafmg  fhe  was  fenfible;  and 
what  will  appear  to  many  extraordinary, 
her  friendmip  for  Louifa  was  not  dimi- 
nilhed  on  that  account. 

Airs.  Eaiy  had  lately  engaged  a  maid, 
who  had  been  in  Lady  Hornbury's  iervice, 
and  was  fuppofed  to  have  enjoyed  a  good 
deal  of  her  confidence  ;  by  means  of  this 
maid,  who  had  long  been  devoted  to  Clifton, 
he  was  informed,  unknown  to  them,  of 
many  of  their  engagements,  where  he  had 
a  certainty  of  meeting  them,  and  at  what 
hours  he  would  find  them  at  home.  Of  this 
intelligence  Ciifron  made  the  moil  attentive 
ufe;  but  his  behaviour  on  a  particular  occa- 
fion,  when  he  accompanied  the  Ladies  to 
one  of  she  Theatres,  promoted  his  views 

iLore 


5o6  EDWARD. 

more  than  all  the  pains  he  took.  Imme- 
diately after  the  play,  and  before  the  farce, 
he  waited  in.  the  outer  room  until  Mrs. 
Eafy's  coach  fhould  be  called.  While  he 
was  talking  to  that  Lady  and  her  daughter, 
Ivlifs  Barnet  happened  for  an  inftant  to 
fland  a  little  apart,  fo  as  not  to  feem  to 
be  of  the  party :  two  young  fellows  entered 
the  room,  one  of  them  a  little  fluttered  ;  he 
flared  hard  at  Mifs  Barnet ;  fhe  held  down 
her  head  to  avoid  the  boldnefs  of  his  look  ; 
he  then  raifed  the  edge  of  her  hat,  that  he 
might  view  her  face  more  fully,  while  his 
other  hand  approached  her  bofom  :  at  that 
inftant  Clifton  ftruck  him  fo  violent  a  blow 
in  the  face  as  ftaggered  him.  He  fell 
backwards  over  a  form,  and  his  head  ftruck 
againft  the  furbafe  of  the  wall. 

"  Does  any  body  know  this  fellow  ?"  faid 
Clifton,  addrefling  the  fpedtators,  who 
crowded  from  the  paflages  into  the  room  ; 
*'  he  is  certainly  not  a  gentleman." 

"  Yes  he  is,"  faid  the  perfon  who  had 
accompanied  him ;  "  and  one  worth  a  hun- 
dred thoufand  pounds  1" 

6  "  Well," 


EDWARD.  507 

«  Well,"  refumed  Clifton,  «  be  fo  gocd  as 
deliver  him  this  card,  that  he  may  know 
where  to  find  one  who  will  be  at  his  call, 
fhould  he  be  inclined  to  eftablifh  his  claim 
to  the  character  of  a  gentleman  on  another 
foundation."  So  faying,  he  prefented  him 
with  his  addrefs. 

Mrs.  Eafy's  carnage  being  announced  at 
the  fame  time,  he  attended  the  Ladies  to 
it,  was  earneftly  preffed  to  accompany  them 
home,  and  went  accordingly. 

At  fupper  Mrs,  Eafy  exprefled  fears  what 
might  be  the  confequences  of  this  adven- 
ture, and  the  young  Ladies  {hewed  marks 
of  folicitude  on  the  fame  fubject.  The 
breaft  of  Louifa,  in  particular,  glowed  with 
gratitude,  for  the  fplrit  with  which  Clifton 
had  repelled  the  infult  that  had  been  offered 
to  herfelf,  while  fhe  admired  the  dignity  of 
his  conduct  in  the  whole  tranfa£tion. 
Clifton's  converfation  was  particularly  gay 
while  he  remained  with  the  Ladies  ;  but  the 
apprehenfions  they  had  refpecting  what 
might  happen  in  the  morning  prevented 

hi* 


5o8  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

his  gaiety  from  having  its  ufual  effect  on 
them. 

When  Clifton  returned  to  his  lodgings,  he 
told  his  footman,  that  he  fhould  be  at  home 
all  the  following  morning ;  defired  that  he 
might  be  apprifed,  without  delay,  when  any 
gentleman  called  ;  and  that  all  letters  ad- 
drefled  to  him  fhould  be  brought  up  di- 
rectly, whether  he  was  in  bed  or  not. 

He  was  waked  next  morning  to  receive 
a  letter  of  a  different  nature  from  what  he 
expected ;  it  was  from  Mrs.  Eafy's  maid, 
to  inform  him,  that  Mrs.  and  Mifs  Eafy 
propofed  to  go,  immediately  after  breakfaft, 
to  the  city  to  vifit  a  relation,  of  whofe  in- 
difpofition  they  had  been  juft  informed, 
and  that  they  did  not  intend  to  return  till 
near  four  o'clock  ;  that  Mils  Barnet  was  to 
remain  at  home,  and  had  already  given 
orders  that  fhe  fhould  be  denied  to  every 
body  ;  but  neverthelefs,  the  maid  added,  (he 
would  venture  to  difobey,  in  cafe  he  JJjould 
call. 

The    contents   of  this    note    perplexed 

Clifton  a  good  deal.     After  what  had  palled 

9  * 


EDWARD.  ,509 

at  the  play-boufe,  and  after  what  he  himfelf 
liad  faid,  it  would  have  had  an  aukward 
appearance  if  he  fhould  be  from  home  when 
the  perfon  he  expected  called  ;  at  the  fame 
time  he  could  not  bear  the  thoughts  of 
lofing  fuch  an  opportunity  of  being  alone 
with  Mifs  Barnet,  efpecially  as  he  had  fome 
idea,  though  totally  without  foundation, 
that  {he  was  privy  to  the  notice  which  the 
Hiaid  had  given  him. 


5io  E  D  W  A  R  D. 


CHAP.     XLIX. 

With  thee  be  Chaftity,  of  all  afraid, 
Diftrufting  all,  a  wife  fufpicious  maid. 
But  man  the  inoft,  not  more  the  mountain  doe 
Holds  the  fwift  faulcon  for  her  deadly  foe. 

COLLINS. 

TOOTHING  fhould  induce  the  fex  to  more 
circumfpection  than  the  fevere  and 
uncandid  .conftructions  which  are  apt  to  be 
put  on  their  behaviour.  Many  men,  even 
of  thofe  who  are  not  confidered  as  cox- 
combs, or  diftinguimed  for  vanity,  are  prone 
to  conftriie  every  mark  of  attention  to 
themfelves  as  a  proof  of  a  greater  degree  of 
favour  than  was  intended.  In  the  prefent 
inftance  Clifton  did  great  injuftice  to  Mifs 
Barnet ;  who,  although  fhe  was  giddy  from 
youthful  vanity,  imprudent  from  the  great 
vivacity  of  her  character,  and  fufceptible, 
perhaps,  of  having  her  fenfes  furprifed,  yet 

would 


E  p  W  A  R  D.  511 

would  certainly  have  turned  the  treacherous 
maid  to  the  door,  and  refufed  the  vifit  of 
Clifton,  had  me  known  the  information 
that  had  been  fent,  or  fufpected  his  defigns. 
What  renders  his  ungenerous  conftru&ions 
of  her  conduct  ftill  more  revolting  is,  that 
at  the  very  time  he  made  them,  and  was 
meditating  her  ruin,  the  mind  of  the  young 
Lady  was  occupied  with  a  friendly  folici- 
tude  for  his  fafety. 

Clifton  ftaid  at  home  till  a  little  after 
twelve  o'clock  j  he  then  became  too  im- 
patient to  fee  Mifs  Barnet  to  ftay  any 
longer,  and  wrote  a  letter  in  the  following 
terms  : 

"  Indifpenfable  bufmefs  obliges  me  to  go 
out :  I  mall  return  before  four  o'clock,  and 
will  wait  on  you  when  and  where  you  fhall 
be  pleafed  to  appoint. 

"  J.  CLIFTON." 

Having  defcribed  the  perfon  with  whom 
He  had  the  fquabble  and  his  companion,  he 

de  fired 


5i2  E  D  \V  A  R  D. 

defired  the  fervant  to  give  this  note  to  either 
of  them  who  nvght  call ;  and  he  enjoined 
}  the  fervant  to  remain  at  home  all  day,  that 
he  might  not  run  any  rifk  of  miffing 
them. 

Clifton  then  hurried  to  Mrs.  Eafy's, 
knocked  gently  at  the  door,  was  admitted  by 
the  maid,  who, on  different  pretexts,  had  fent 
the  other  fervants  out  of  the  way. 

Louifa  Barnet  was  at  that  time  writing  to 
her  mother  an  account  of  the  play-houfe 
adventure,  containing  a  high  eulogium  on 
the  gallant  behaviour  of  Mr.  Clifton,  and  ex* 
preflive  of  her  own  fears  and  anxieties  re- 
fpedting  what  might  be  the  confequences. 
She  was  in  a  room  commonly  ufed  by 
Mrs.  Eafy  when  (he  did  not  admit  com- 
pany, in  which  her  daughter  and  Louiia 
were  accuftomed  to  read  alternately  to  her, 
while  (he  reclined  on  the  couch. 

Mifs  Barnet  was  carelefsly  drefled,  yet  in 
a  ftyle  more  favourable  to  her  natural  beau- 
ties than  the  moft  refined  arts  of  the  toilet 
could  have  produced. 

The 


EDWARD.  513 

The  maid  announced  Clifton  rather  ab- 
ruptly, faying  "  (he  could  not  help  believ- 
ing that  he  was  not  meant  to  be  included 
in  the  general  order  for  denial."  And  then 
fhe  withdrew. 

Mifs  Barnet,  who  was  at  firft  provoked 
and  difconcerted,  foon  forgot  the  negli- 
gence of  her  own  drefs,  and  the  fingularity 
of  the  maid's  conduct,  in  the  pleafure  of 
feeing  Clifton  in  fafety. 

She  inquired  with  precipitation,  whether 
he  had  heard  any  thing  from  the  play- 
houfe-men,  and  understanding  he  had  not, 
whether  he  expected  to  hear  from  them; 
to  this  Clifton  anfwered,  "  that  he  did  not 
think  about  them." 

"  You  are  certainly  right,"  faid  fhe ; 
"  they  are  not  worth  thinking  of;  they 
afTuredly  are  not  Gentlemen,  and  what- 
ever meflage  fuch  fellows  may  fend,  you 
ought  to  take  no  notice  of  it." 

To  this  obfervation  Clifton  faid  nothing; 
on  which  fhe  repeated  it  earneftly,  looking 
in  his  face  for  an  anfwer. 

VOL.  i.  L  L  He 


5i4  EDWARD. 

He  fmiled,  without  fpeaking. 

She  then  expreffed  her  uneafmefs  at  the 
idea  of  his  having  been  involved  in  any 
trouble  or  danger  on  her  account. 

Treating  with  contempt  the  idea  of 
danger,  he  exprefled  great  fatisfaclion  in 
having  chaftifed  the  author  of  an  infult 
offered  to  her,  declaring  that  he  would 
ever  think  it  the  greateft  honour  that 
could  befall  him,  to  have  it  in  his  power 
to  be  of  any  fervice  to  her,  and  proceeded 
in  warmer  terms,  and  a  more  earneft  man- 
ner than  he  had  ever  ufed  before,  to  aflert 
his  admiration  of  her  beauty  and  accom- 
plifhments,  with  many  profeffions  of  at- 
tachment, accompanied  with  a  prefiure  of 
her  hand,  and  the  moft  feducing  looks  and 
tone  of  voice. 

Had  he  ventured  on  fuch  a  flile  and 
manner  of  addrefs  at  any  other  time,  or 
had  he  aflumed  them  at  once,  Louifa 
would  have  perceived  their  aim,  and 
would  foon  have  thrown  him  out  of  his 
game;  but  for  fome  time  before  Clifton 

entered, 


EDWARD.  515 

entered,  (he  had  been  reflecting  with  gra- 
titude on  his  behaviour  the  preceding 
night,  and  with  folicitude  for  the  danger 
to  which  he  was  flill  expofed;  her  breaft 
glowed  not,  as  formerly,  with  mere  vanity, 
on  account  of  having  drawn  a  man  of 
fafhion  from  the  ftandard  of  a  rival  beauty, 
but  with  efteem  for  him  as  a  man  of  fpirit, 
who  (he  imagined  equally  efteemed  her, 
and  whom  me  confidered  in  the  light  of  a 
benefactor. — The  fatisfadtion  he  exprefled 
in  having  punifhed  a  man  who  had  in- 
fulted  her,  and  the  pleafure  he  would  take 
in  rendering  her  future  fervices,  were  the 
natural  anfwers  to  the  uneafmefs  fhe 
ihewed  on  his  account,  and  led  to  thofe 
vague,  but  warm  declarations  of  attach- 
ment, which  fhe  would  have  difregarded 
at  another  time,  but  which  at  prefent  were 
not  heard  with  fuch  coolnefs,  as  to  leave 
her  all  the  circumfpection  her  fituation 
required. — As  the  enterprifing  fervour  of 
Clifton's  eloquence  gradually  increafed,  her 
emotion  was  alfo  gaining  upon  her,  when 
LL  2  fhe 


5i6  EDWARD. 

{he  was  fuddenly  reftored  to  recolle&ion 
by  a  noife  at  the  door, — a  few  moments 
after  which,  Edward  entered  the  room. 
Clifton  had  juft  had  time  to  gain  the 
•window,  at  which  he  flood,  affecting  an 
air  of  careleflhefs ;  Louifa  was  feated  at  a 
diftance  from  him. 

Edward,  without  (hewing  furprize,  ad- 
drefled  her,  faying,  "  that  as  he  had  heard 
ihe  was  at  home,  he  had  called  to  inquire 
after  Mr.  Barnet's  health,  as  he  fuppofed 
fhe  had  received  accounts  of  it  from  her 
mother."  She  anfwered  with  an  air  of 
referve  not  free  from  confufion ;  he  then 
turned  to  Clifton,  whofe  affected  eafe  was 
\ mixed  with  evident  marks  of  difpleafure : 
• — never  were  three  people  more  at  a  lofs 
to  continue  a  converfation.  Clifton  glowed 
with  refentment  againft  Edward  for  his 
intrufion  ; — Mifs  Barnet's  returning  re- 
flection began  to  make  her  view  it  as  a 
fortunate  circumftance,  but  this  very  idea 
diftrefled  her  at  the  prefence  of  the  one, 
almoft  as  much  as  the  other  ;  and  fhs 

impatiently 


E  D  W  A  R  D.  5i7 

impatiently  wifhed  for  the  abfence  of 
both ;  Edward,  although  fatisfied  with 
his  own  conduct,  felt  pain  on  her  ac- 
count, and  turned  his  eyes  again  on 
Clifton,  to  obferve  if  he  was  inclined  to 
withdraw. 

They  were  all  relieved  in  fome  meafure, 
by  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  and  Mifs  Eafy, 
•who-  having  been  at  the  houfe  of  their 
relation,  were  there  informed,  that  fhe  had 
been  forbid  by  her  phyfician,  to  fee  any 
perfon  whoever,  on  which  they  had  re- 
turned home  directly. 

Mrs.  and  Mifs  Eafy  were  equally  pleafecf 
and  furprifed  at  the  fight  of  Clifton;  ihef  ' 
had  been  converfing  together,  all  the  way 
from  the  city,  on  the  fubject  of  his  quarrel, 
and  had  remained  in  anxious  fufpence 
refpecting  the  confequences. — Immediately 
on  entering  the  room,  they  both  addreffed 
him  with  peculiar  attention,  but  without 
mentioning  or  alluding  to  the  fource  of  this 
uncommon  degree  of  intereft  ;  to  Edward 
they  fpoke  with  their  ufual  civility,  after 

which 


518  EDWARD. 

which  Mifs  Eafy  turning  to  Mifs  Earner, 
exclaimed,  a  little  abruptly,  "  I  under- 
ftood,  my  dear,  that  you  intended  to  em- 
ploy the  whole  morning  in  writing 
letters. " 

"  I  fear,"  faid  Edward,  willing  to  convey 
the  idea  that  Clifton  and  he  had  come 
together,  ct  that  we  intruded  on  Mifs 
Barnet." 

Clifton  darted  an  angry  look  at  him, 
but  Mils  Eafy,  whofe  mind  dwelt  on  the 
danger  to  which  fhe  fuppofed  Mr.  Clifton 
•was  Hill  expcfed,  from  the  two  play-houfe 
gentlemen,  replied,  and  while  ihe  fpoke 
fhe  looked  at  Clifton,  "  I  am  certain  your 
vifits  could  not  appear  to  her  an  intrufion, 
particularly  at  this  time." 

This  remark  tended  to  increafe  the  re- 
fentment  which  Clifton  felt,  however  un- 
juftly,  againft  his  friend,  and  being  em- 
barrafTed  what  to  fay,  or  how  to  behave, 
be  withdrew. 

Edward  continued  the  converfation  with 
Mrs.  and  Mifs  Eafy  for  a  confiderable  time,  ' 

but 


EDWARD. 


519 


but  on  its  being  remarked  that  Mifs  Barnet 
took  no  part  in  it,  and  the  former  afking 
if  fhe  was  not  a  little  indifpofed,  he  took 
his  leave. 


END    OF    THE    FIRST   VOLUME, 


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