"Learn to be wise from others' ill,
And you'll learn to do full well."
As nothing is so repellant of base minds as poverty, soon as Ralph
found that Ben's pistoles were all gone, and his finances reduced to
the beggarly ebb of living _from hand to mouth_, he "_cleared out_,"
and betook himself into the country to teach _school_, whence he was
continually writing fine poetical epistles to Ben, not forgetting in
every postscript, to put him in mind of his dear Dulcinea, the fair
milliner, and to commend her to his kindness. As to Ben, he still
persevered, after Ralph's departure, in his good old habits of
industry and economy--never indulging in tobacco or gin--never
sauntering to taverns or play houses, nor at any time laying out his
money but on books, which he always visited, as frugal lovers do their
sweethearts, at night. But still it would not all do. He could lay up
nothing. The daily postage of Ralph's long poetical epistles, with the
unceasing application of the poor milliner, kept his purse continually
in a galloping consumption. At length he obtained a release from this
unpleasant situation, though in a way that he himself never could
think of afterwards without a blush.
After very frequent loans of money to her, she came, it seems, one
night to his lodgings on the old errand--_to borrow half a guinea_!
when Ben, who had been getting too fond of her, took this opportunity
to offer freedoms which she highly resented.
This Ben tells himself, with a candour that will for ever do him
credit among those who know that the confession of folly is the first
step on the way to wisdom.
"Having, at that time," says he, "no ties of religion upon me, and
taking advantage of her necessitous situation, I attempted liberties
(_another great error of my life_,) which she repelled with _becoming
indignation_. She informed Ralph; and the affair occasioned a breach
between us. When he returned to London, he gave to understand that he
considered all the obligations he owed me as annihilated by this
proceeding; and that I was not to expect _one farthing of all the
monies I had lent him_."
Ben used to say, many years afterwards, that this conduct of his
friend Ralph put him in mind of an anecdote he had some where heard,
of good old Gilbert Tenant: the same that George Whitefield generally
called HELL-FIRE TENANT. This eminent divine, believing _fear_ to be a
much stronger motive with the multitude than _love_, constantly made a
great run upon that passion in all his discourses. And Boanerges
himself could hardly have held a candle to him in this way. Nature had
given him a countenance which he could, at will, clothe with all the
terrors of the tornado. And besides he had a talent for painting the
scenes of dread perdition in such colours, that when aided by the
lightning of his eyes, and the bursting thunders of his voice, it was
enough to start the soul of lion-hearted innocence; what then of
rabbit-livered guilt? The truth is, he wrought miracles in New-Jersey:
casting out devils--the devils of drunkenness, gambling, and lust, out
of many a wretch _possessed_.
Among the thousands whom he thus frightened for their good, was a tame
Indian of Woodbury, who generally went by the name of Indian-Dick.
This poor savage, on hearing Mr. Tenant preach, was so terrified, that
he fell down in the meeting house, and roared as if under the scalping
knife.
He lost his stomach: and even his beloved bottle was forgotten. Old
Mr. Tenant went to see Dick, and rejoiced over him as a son in the
gospel;--heartily thanking God for adding this INDIAN GEM to the crown
of his glory.
Not many days after this, the man of God took his journey through the
south counties of New-Jersey, calling the poor clam-catchers of Cape
May to repentance. As he returned and drew near to Woodbury, lo! a
great multitude! He rejoiced in spirit, as hoping that it was a
meeting of the people to hear the word of God: but the uproar bursting
upon his ear, put him in doubt.
"Surely," said he, "this is not the voice of praise; 'tis rather, I
fear, the noise of drunkenness." And so it was indeed; for it being a
day of election, the friends of the candidates had dealt out their
brandy so liberally that the street was filled with sots of every
degree, from the simple _stagger_ to the _dead drunk_. Among the rest,
he beheld his Indian convert, poor Dick, under full sail in the
street, reeling and hallooing, great as a sachem. Mr. Tenant strove
hard to avoid him; but Dick, whose quick eye had caught the old
pie-balled horse that Tenant rode on, instantly staggered towards him.
Tenant put forth all his horsemanship to avoid the interview. He
kicked old Pie-ball in one flank, and then in the other; pulled this
rein and then that; laid on _here_ with his staff, and laid on
_there_; but all would not do; unless he could at once ride down the
drunken beasts, there was no way of getting clear of them. So that
Dick, _half shaved_ as he was, soon got along side of old Pie-ball,
whom he grappled by the rein with one hand, and stretching forth the
other, bawled out, "_how do? how do, Mr. Tenant?_"
Tenant could not look at him.
Still, Dick, with his arm full extended, continued to bawl, "_how do,
Mr. Tenant, how do?_" Finding that there was no getting clear of him,
Mr. Tenant, red as crimson, lifted up his eyes on Dick, who still,
bold as brandy, stammered out, "_High, Mr. Tenant! d-d-d-don't you
know me, Mr. Tenant? Don't you know Indian Dick? Why, sure, Mr.
Tenant, you are the man that converted me?_"
_"I converted you!" replied Tenant, nearly fainting._
"_Yes_, roared Dick, _I'll be d-d-d-nd, Mr. Tenant, if you an't the
very man that converted me_."
"Poor fellow!" said Tenant, with a heavy sigh, "you look like one of
my _handiworks_. Had God Almighty converted you, you would have looked
like another guess sort of a creature."
From Ben's constantly relating this story of old Tenant and Indian
Dick, whenever he mentioned the aforesaid case of Ralph's baseness,
many of his acquaintance were of opinion, that Ben thereby as good as
acknowledged, that at the time he took Ralph in hand, he did not
altogether understand the art of converting; or, that at any rate, it
would have been much better for Ralph, if, as Mr, Tenant said of
Indian Dick, _God Almighty had converted him_. He would hardly, for
the sake of a harlot, have so basely treated his best friend and
benefactor.