CHAPTER XC.

Peregrine commences Minister's Dependant--Meets by Accident with Mrs.

Gauntlet--And descends gradually in the Condition of Life.

This reception, favourable as it was, did not please Peregrine, who had

too much discernment to be cajoled with general promises, at a time

when he thought himself entitled to the most particular assurance. He

accordingly signified his disgust to his introductor, giving him

to understand, that he had laid his account with being chosen

representative of one of those boroughs for which he had been

sacrificed. His lordship agreed to the reasonableness of his

expectation, observing, however, that he could not suppose the minister

would enter upon business with him on his first visit; and that it

would be time enough at his next audience to communicate his demand.

Notwithstanding this remonstrance, our hero continued to indulge his

suspicion and chagrin, and even made a point of it with his patron, that

his lordship should next day make application on his behalf, lest the

two seats should be filled up, on pretence of his inclinations being

unknown. Thus importuned, my lord went to his principal, and returned

with an answer, importing that his honour was extremely sorry that Mr.

Pickle had not signified his request before the boroughs in question

were promised to two gentlemen whom he could not now disappoint, with

any regard to his own credit or interest; but, as several persons who

would be chosen were, to his certain knowledge, very aged and infirm, he

did not doubt that there would be plenty of vacant seats in a very short

time, and then, the young gentleman might depend upon his friendship.

Peregrine was so much irritated at this intimation, that, in the first

transports of his anger he forgot the respect he owed his friend, and

in his presence inveighed against the minister, as a person devoid of

gratitude and candour, protesting, that if ever an opportunity should

offer itself, he would spend the whole remains of his fortune in

opposing his measures. The nobleman having given him time to exhaust

the impetuosity of his passion, rebuked him very calmly for his

disrespectful expressions, which were equally injurious and indiscreet;

assured him that this project of revenge, if ever put in execution,

would redound to his own prejudice and confusion; and advised him to

cultivate and improve, with patience and assiduity, the footing he had

already obtained in the minister's good graces.

Our hero, convinced of the truth, though not satisfied with the occasion

of his admonitions, took his leave in a fit of sullen discontent, and

began to ruminate upon the shattered posture of his affairs. All that

now remained of the ample fortune he had inherited was the sum he had

deposited in his lordship's hands, together with fifteen hundred pounds

he had ventured on bottomry, and the garrison, which he had left for the

use and accommodation of the lieutenant; and, on the per contra side

of his account, he was debtor for the supply he had received from the

receiver-general, and the money for which he was bound in behalf of his

friend; so that he found himself, for the first time of his life, very

much embarrassed in his circumstances. For, of the first half-year's

interest of his ten thousand, which was punctually paid, he had but

fourscore pounds in bank, without any prospect of a farther supply

till the other term, which was at the distance of four long months. He

seriously reflected upon the uncertainty of human affairs: the ship with

his fifteen hundred pounds might be lost; the gentleman for whom he was

security might miscarry in this, as well as in his former projects, and

the minister might one day, through policy or displeasure, expose him to

the mercy of his dependant, who was in possession of his notes.

These suggestions did not at all contribute to the ease of our

adventurer's mind, already ruffled by his disappointment. He cursed

his own folly and extravagance, by which he was reduced to such an

uncomfortable situation. He compared his own conduct with that of some

young gentlemen of his acquaintance, who, while he was squandering

away the best part of his inheritance, had improved their fortunes,

strengthened their interest, and increased their reputation. He was

abandoned by his gaiety and good-humour, his countenance gradually

contracted itself into a representation of severity and care, he dropped

all his amusements and the companions of his pleasure, and turned his

whole attention to the minister, at whose levees he never failed to

appear.

While he thus laboured in the wheel of dependence, with all that

mortification which a youth of his pride and sensibility may be supposed

to feel from such a disagreeable necessity, he one day heard himself

called by name, as he crossed the park; and, turning, perceived the wife

of Captain Gauntlet, with another lady. He no sooner recognized the kind

Sophy, than he accosted her with his wonted civility and friendship;

but his former sprightly air was metamorphosed into such austerity, or

rather dejection of feature, that she could scarce believe her own eyes,

and, in her astonishment, “Is it possible,” said she, “that the gay Mr.

Pickle should be so much altered in such a short space of time!” He made

no other reply to this exclamation, but by a languid smile; and asked

how long she had been in town; observing, that he would have paid his

compliments to her at her own lodgings, had he been favoured with

the least intimation of her arrival. After having thanked him for his

politeness, she told him, it was not owing to any abatement of her

friendship and esteem for him, that she had omitted to give him that

notice; but his abrupt departure from Windsor, and the manner in which

he quitted Mr. Gauntlet, had given her just grounds to believe that they

had incurred his displeasure; which suspicion was reinforced by his long

silence and neglect from that period to the present time. She observed

it was still farther confirmed, by his forbearing to inquire for Emilia

and her brother: “judge, then,” said she, “if I had any reason to

believe that you would be pleased to hear that I was in town. However,

I will not detain you at present, because you seem to be engaged about

some particular business; but, if you will favour me with your company

at breakfast to-morrow, I shall be much pleased, and honoured to boot,

by the visit.” So saying, she gave him a direction to her lodgings;

and he took his leave, with a faithful promise of seeing her at the

appointed time.

He was very much affected with this advance of Sophy, which he

considered as an instance of her uncommon sweetness of temper; he

felt strange longings of returning friendship towards Godfrey; and the

remembrance of Emilia melted his heart, already softened with grief and

mortification. Next day he did not neglect his engagement, and had the

pleasure of enjoying a long conversation with this sensible young lady,

who gave him to understand that her husband was with his regiment; and

presented to him a fine boy, the first-fruits of their love, whom they

had christened by the name of Peregrine, in memory of the friendship

which had subsisted between Godfrey and our youth.

This proof of their regard, notwithstanding the interruption in their

correspondence, made a deep impression upon the mind of our adventurer,

who having made the warmest acknowledgments for this undeserved mark

of respect, took the child in his arms, and almost devoured him with

kisses, protesting before God, that he should always consider him with

the tenderness of a parent. This was the highest compliment he could pay

to the gentle Sophy, who again kindly chid him for his disdainful and

precipitate retreat, immediately after her marriage; and expressed an

earnest desire of seeing him and the captain reconciled. He assured her,

nothing could give him greater satisfaction than such an event, to which

he would contribute all that lay in his power, though he could not help

looking upon himself as injured by Captain Gauntlet's behaviour,

which denoted a suspicion of his honour, as well as contempt for his

understanding. The lady undertook for the concession of her husband,

who, she told him, had been extremely sorry for his own heat, after

Mr. Pickle's departure, and would have followed him to the garrison, in

order to solicit his forgiveness, had he not been restrained by certain

punctilios, occasioned by some acrimonious expressions that dropped from

Peregrine at the inn.

After having cleared up this misunderstanding, she proceeded to give an

account of Emilia, whose behaviour, at that juncture, plainly indicated

a continuance of affection for her first lover; and desired, that

he would give her full powers to bring that matter also to an

accommodation: “For I am not more certain of my own existence,” said

she, “than that you are still in possession of my sister's heart.” At

this declaration, the tear started in his eye. But he shook his head,

and declined her good offices, wishing that the young lady might be much

more happy than ever he should be able to make her.

Mrs. Gauntlet, confounded at these expressions, and moved by the

desponding manner in which they were delivered, begged to know if

any new obstacle was raised, by some late change in his sentiments or

situation. And he, in order to avoid a painful explanation, told

her, that he had long despaired of being able to vanquish Emilia's

resentment, and for that reason quitted the pursuit, which he would

never renew, howsoever his heart might suffer by that resolution; though

he took Heaven to witness, that his love, esteem, and admiration of her,

were not in the least impaired. But the true motive of his laying aside

his design, was the consciousness of his decayed fortune, which, by

adding to the sensibility of his pride, increased the horror of another

repulse. She expressed her concern for this determination, both on his

own account, and in behalf of Emilia, whose happiness, in her opinion,

depended upon his constancy and affection; and she would have questioned

him more minutely about the state of his affairs, had not he discouraged

the inquiry by seeking to introduce another subject of conversation.

After mutual protestations of friendship and regard, he promised to

visit her often, during her residence in town; and took his leave in a

strange perplexity of mind, occasioned by the images of love, intruding

upon the remonstrances of carking care. He had some time ago forsaken

those extravagant companions with whom he had rioted in the heyday of

his fortune, and begun to consort with a graver and more sober species

of acquaintance. But he now found himself disabled from cultivating

the society of these also, who were men of ample estates and liberal

dispositions; in consequence of which, their parties were too expensive

for the consumptive state of his finances; so that he was obliged to

descend to another degree, and mingle with a set of old bachelors and

younger brothers, who subsisted on slender annuities, or what is called

a bare competency in the public funds. This association was composed of

second-hand politicians and minor critics, who in the forenoon saunter

in the Mall, or lounge at shows of pictures, appear in the drawing-room

once or twice a week, dine at an ordinary, decide disputes in a

coffee-house, with an air of superior intelligence, frequent the pit

of the playhouse, and once in a month spend an evening with some noted

actor, whose remarkable sayings they repeat for the entertainment of

their ordinary friends.

After all, he found something comfortable enough in the company of

these gentlemen, who never interested his passions to any violence of

transport, nor teased him with impertinent curiosity about his private

affairs. For, though many of them had maintained a very long, close, and

friendly correspondence with each other, they never dreamt of inquiring

into particular concerns; and if one of the two who were most intimately

connected, had been asked how the other made a shift to live, he would

have answered with great truth, “Really, that is more than I know.”

Notwithstanding this phlegmatic indifference, which is of the true

English production, they were all inoffensive, good-natured people, who

loved a joke and a song, delighted in telling a merry story, and prided

themselves in the art of catering, especially in the articles of fish,

venison, and wild fowl.

Our young gentleman was not received among them on the footing of a

common member, who makes interest for his admission; he was courted as a

person of superior genius and importance, and his compliance looked upon

as an honour to their society. This their idea of his pre-eminence was

supported by his conversation, which, while it was more liberal and

learned than that to which they had been accustomed, was tinctured

with an assuming air, so agreeably diffused, that, instead of producing

aversion, it commanded respect. They not only appealed to him, in all

doubts relating to foreign parts, to which one and all of them were

strangers, but also consulted his knowledge in history and divinity,

which were frequently the topics of their debates; and, in poetry of

all kinds, he decided with such magisterial authority, as even

weighed against the opinions of the players themselves. The variety of

characters he had seen and observed, and the high spheres of life in

which he had so lately moved, furnished him with a thousand entertaining

anecdotes. When he became a little familiarized to his disappointments,

so that his natural vivacity began to revive, he flashed among them in

such a number of bright sallies, as struck them with admiration, and

constituted himself a classic in wit; insomuch that they began to retail

his remnants, and even invited some particular friends to come and hear

him hold forth. One of the players, who had for many years strutted

about the taverns in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden as the Grand

Turk of wit and humour, began to find his admirers melt away; and a

certain petulant physician, who had shone at almost all the port clubs

in that end of the town, was actually obliged to import his talents into

the city, where he was now happily taken root.

Nor was this success to be wondered at, if we consider that, over and

above his natural genius and education, our adventurer still had the

opportunity of knowing everything which happened among the great, by

means of his friend Cadwallader, with whom he still maintained his

former intimacy, though it was now chequered with many occasional tiffs,

owing to the sarcastic remonstrances of the misanthrope, who disapproved

of those schemes which miscarried with Peregrine, and now took

unseasonable methods of valuing himself upon his own foresight. Nay, he

was between whiles like a raven, croaking presages of more ill-luck from

the deceit of the minister, the dissimulation of his patron, the folly

of the projector, for whom he was bound, the uncertainty of the seas,

and the villainy of those with whom he had entrusted his cash, for

Crabtree saw and considered everything through a perspective of spleen,

that always reflected the worst side of human nature. For these reasons

our young gentleman began to be disgusted, at certain intervals, with

the character of this old man, whom he now thought a morose cynic, not

so much incensed against the follies and vices of mankind, as delighted

with the distress of his fellow-creatures. Thus he put the most

unfavourable construction on the principles of his friend, because he

found himself justly fallen under the lash of his animadversion. Thus

self-accusation very often dissolves the closest friendship. A man,

conscious of his own indiscretion, is implacably offended at the

rectitude of his companion's conduct, which he considers as an insult

upon his failings, never to be forgiven, even though he has not tasted

the bitterness of reproof, which no sinner can commodiously digest. The

friendship, therefore, subsisting between Crabtree and Pickle, had of

late suffered several symptomatic shocks, that seemed to prognosticate

a total dissolution; a great deal of smart dialogue had passed in their

private conversations, and the senior began to repent of having placed

his confidence in such an imprudent, headstrong ungovernable youth.

It was in such paroxysms of displeasure that he prophesied misfortune

to Peregrine, and even told him one morning, that he had dreamed of the

shipwreck of the two East Indiamen, on board of which he had hazarded

his money. But this was no other than a false vision; for in a few

weeks, one of them arrived at her moorings in the river, and he received

a thousand in lieu of eight hundred pounds which he had lent upon bond

to one of the mates. At the same time he was informed, that the other

ship, in which he was concerned, had, in all probability, lost her

passage for the season, by being unable to weather the Cape. He was

not at all concerned at that piece of news, knowing, that the longer he

should be out of his money, he would have the more interest to receive;

and, finding his present difficulties removed by this supply, his heart

began to dilate, and his countenance to resume its former alacrity. This

state of exultation, however, was soon interrupted by a small accident,

which he could not foresee. He was visited one morning by the person

who had lent his friend a thousand pounds on his security, and given

to understand, that the borrower had absconded, in consequence of a

disappointment, by which he had lost the whole sum and all hopes of

retrieving it; so that our hero was now liable for the debt, which he

besought him to discharge according to the bond, that he, the lender,

might not suffer by his humanity. It may be easily conceived that

Peregrine did not receive this intelligence in cold blood. He cursed his

own imprudence in contracting such engagements with an adventurer, whom

he did not sufficiently know. He exclaimed against the treachery of the

projector; and having for some time indulged his resentment in threats

and imprecations, inquired into the nature of the scheme which had

miscarried.

The lender, who had informed himself of the whole affair, gratified his

curiosity in this particular, by telling him that the fugitive had been

cajoled by a certain knight of the post, who undertook to manage the

thousand pounds in such a manner as would, in a very little time, make

him perfectly independent; and thus he delineated the plan: “One half

of the sum,” said he, “shall be laid out in jewels, which I will pawn to

certain persons of credit and fortune, who lend money upon such pledges

at an exorbitant interest. The other shall be kept for relieving

them, so that they may be again deposited with a second set of those

honourable usurers; and when they shall have been circulated in this

manner through a variety of hands, we will extort money from each of the

pawnbrokers, by threatening them with a public prosecution, for exacting

illegal interest; and I know that they will bleed freely, rather than

be exposed to the infamy attending such an accusation.” The scheme was

feasible, and though not very honourable, made such an impression upon

the needy borrower, that he assented to the proposals; and, by our

hero's credit, the money was raised. The jewels were accordingly

purchased, pawned, relieved, and repledged by the agent, who undertook

to manage the whole affair; and so judiciously was the project executed,

that he could have easily proved each lender guilty of the charge.

Having thus far successfully transacted the business, this faithful

agent visited them severally on his own account, to give them

intimation, that his employer intended to sue them on the statute of

usury; upon which, every one for himself bribed the informer to withdraw

his evidence, by which alone he could be convicted; and having received

these gratifications, he had thought proper to retreat into France

with the whole booty, including the original thousand that put them in

motion. In consequence of this decampment, the borrower had withdrawn

himself; so that the lender was obliged to have recourse to his

security.

This was a very mortifying account to our young gentleman, who, in

vain, reminded the narrator of his promise, importing, that he would not

demand the money, until he should be called to an account by his ward;

and observed, that, long before that period, the fugitive might appear

and discharge the debt. But the other was deaf to these remonstrances;

alleging, that his promise was provisional, on the supposition that the

borrower would deal candidly and fairly; that he had forfeited all title

to his friendship and trust, by the scandalous scheme in which he had

embarked; and that his treacherous flight from his security was no proof

of his honesty and intended return; but, on the contrary, a warning, by

which he, the lender, was taught to take care of himself. He therefore

insisted upon his being indemnified immediately, on pain of letting the

law take its course; and Peregrine was actually obliged to part with

the whole sum he had so lately received. But this payment was not made

without extreme reluctance, indignation, and denunciation of eternal war

against the absconder, and the rigid creditor, betwixt whom he suspected

some collusion.

The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle · 第 92 / 108 章