A few days ago we were terribly alarmed by my uncle’s fainting at the
ball--He has been ever since cursing his own folly, for going thither at
the request of an impertinent woman. He declares, he will sooner visit
a house infected with the plague, than trust himself in such a nauseous
spital for the future, for he swears the accident was occasioned by the
stench of the crowd; and that he would never desire a stronger proof of
our being made of very gross materials, than our having withstood the
annoyance, by which he was so much discomposed. For my part, I am very
thankful for the coarseness of my organs, being in no danger of
ever falling a sacrifice to the delicacy of my nose. Mr Bramble is
extravagantly delicate in all his sensations, both of soul and body. I
was informed by Dr Lewis, that he once fought a duel with an officer
of the horseguards, for turning aside to the Park-wall, on a necessary
occasion, when he was passing with a lady under his protection. His
blood rises at every instance of insolence and cruelty, even where he
himself is no way concerned; and ingratitude makes his teeth chatter. On
the other hand, the recital of a generous, humane, or grateful action,
never fails to draw from him tears of approbation, which he is often
greatly distressed to conceal.
Yesterday, one Paunceford gave tea, on particular invitation--This man,
after having been long buffetted by adversity, went abroad; and Fortune,
resolved to make him amends for her former coyness, set him all at once
up to the very ears in affluence. He has now emerged from obscurity,
and blazes out in all the tinsel of the times. I don’t find that he is
charged with any practices that the law deems dishonest, or that his
wealth has made him arrogant and inaccessible; on the contrary, he
takes great pains to appear affable and gracious. But, they say, he
is remarkable for shrinking from his former friendships, which were
generally too plain and home-spun to appear amidst his present brilliant
connexions; and that he seems uneasy at sight of some old benefactors,
whom a man of honour would take pleasure to acknowledge--Be that as it
may, he had so effectually engaged the company at Bath, that when I went
with my uncle to the coffeehouse in the evening, there was not a soul
in the room but one person, seemingly in years, who sat by the fire,
reading one of the papers. Mr Bramble, taking his station close by
him, ‘There is such a crowd and confusion of chairs in the passage to
Simpson’s (said he) that we could hardly get along--I wish those
minions of fortune would fall upon more laudable ways of spending their
money.--I suppose, Sir, you like this kind of entertainment as little as
I do?’ ‘I cannot say I have any great relish for such entertainments,’
answered the other, without taking his eyes off the paper--‘Mr Serle
(resumed my uncle) I beg pardon for interrupting you; but I can’t resist
the curiosity I have to know if you received a card on this occasion?’
The man seemed surprised at this address, and made some pause, as
doubtful what answer he should make. ‘I know my curiosity is impertinent
(added my uncle) but I have a particular reason for asking the favour.’
‘If that be the case (replied Mr Serle) I shall gratify you without
hesitation, by owning that I have had no card. But, give me leave,
Sir, to ask in my turn, what reason you think I have to expect such an
invitation from the gentleman who gives tea?’ ‘I have my own reasons
(cried Mr Bramble, with some emotion) and am convinced, more than ever,
that this Paunceford is a contemptible fellow.’ ‘Sir (said the other,
laying down the paper) I have not the honour to know you; but your
discourse is a little mysterious, and seems to require some explanation.
The person you are pleased to treat so cavalierly, is a gentleman of
some consequence in the community; and, for aught you know, I may also
have my particular reasons for defending his character’--‘If I was not
convinced of the contrary (observed the other) I should not have gone so
far’--‘Let me tell you, Sir (said the stranger, raising his voice) you
have gone too far, in hazarding such reflections’.
Here he was interrupted by my uncle; who asked peevishly if he was
Don Quixote enough, at this time of day, to throw down his gauntlet as
champion for a man who had treated him with such ungrateful neglect.
‘For my part (added he) I shall never quarrel with you again upon this
subject; and what I have said now, has been suggested as much by my
regard for you, as by my contempt of him’--Mr Serle, then pulling off
his spectacles, eyed uncle very earnestly, saying, in a mitigated
tone, ‘Surely I am much obliged--Ah, Mr Bramble! I now recollect your
features, though I have not seen you these many years.’ ‘We might
have been less strangers to one another (answered the squire) if
our correspondence had not been interrupted, in consequence of a
misunderstanding, occasioned by this very--, but no matter--Mr Serle, I
esteem your character; and my friendship, such as it is, you may freely
command.’ ‘The offer is too agreeable to be declined (said he); I
embrace it very cordially; and, as the first fruits of it, request that
you will change this subject, which, with me, is a matter of peculiar
delicacy.’
My uncle owned he was in the right, and the discourse took a more
general turn. Mr Serle passed the evening with us at our lodgings; and
appeared to be intelligent, and even entertaining; but his disposition
was rather of a melancholy hue. My uncle says he is a man of uncommon
parts, and unquestioned probity: that his fortune, which was originally
small, has been greatly hurt by a romantic spirit of generosity, which
he has often displayed, even at the expence of his discretion, in favour
of worthless individuals--That he had rescued Paunceford from the lowest
distress, when he was bankrupt, both in means and reputation--That
he had espoused his interests with a degree of enthusiasm, broke with
several friends, and even drawn his sword against my uncle, who had
particular reasons for questioning the moral character of the said
Paunceford: that, without Serle’s countenance and assistance, the other
never could have embraced the opportunity, which has raised him to this
pinnacle of wealth: that Paunceford, in the first transports of his
success, had written, from abroad, letters to different correspondents,
owning his obligations to Mr Serle, in the warmest terms of
acknowledgement, and declared he considered himself only as a factor
for the occasions of his best friend: that, without doubt, he had made
declarations of the same nature to his benefactor himself, though this
last was always silent and reserved on the subject; but for some years,
those tropes and figures of rhetoric had been disused; that, upon his
return to England, he had been lavish in his caresses to Mr Serle,
invited him to his house, and pressed him to make it his own: that he
had overwhelmed him with general professions, and affected to express
the warmest regard for him, in company of their common acquaintance; so
that every body believed his gratitude was liberal as his fortune; and
some went so far as to congratulate Mr Serle on both.
All this time Paunceford carefully and artfully avoided particular
discussions with his old patron, who had too much spirit to drop
the most distant hint of balancing the account of obligation: that,
nevertheless, a man of his feelings could not but resent this shocking
return for all his kindness: and, therefore, he withdrew himself from
the connexion, without coming to the least explanation or speaking
a syllable on the subject to any living soul; so that now their
correspondence is reduced to a slight salute with the hat, when they
chance to meet in any public place; an accident that rarely happens, for
their walks lie different ways. Mr Paunceford lives in a palace, feeds
upon dainties, is arrayed in sumptuous apparel, appears in all the pomp
of equipage, and passes his time among the nobles of the land. Serle
lodges in Stall-street, up two pair of stairs backwards, walks a-foot
in a Bath-rug, eats for twelve shillings a-week, and drinks water
as preservative against the gout and gravel--Mark the vicissitude.
Paunceford once resided in a garret; where he subsisted upon
sheep’s-trotters and cow-heel, from which commons he was translated to
the table of Serle, that ever abounded with good-chear; until want of
economy and retention reduced him to a slender annuity in his decline of
years, that scarce affords the bare necessaries of life.--Paunceford,
however, does him the honour to speak of him still, with uncommon
regard; and to declare what pleasure it would give him to contribute in
any shape to his convenience: ‘But you know (he never fails to add) he’s
a shy kind of a man--And then such a perfect philosopher, that he looks
upon all superfluities with the most sovereign contempt. Having given
you this sketch of squire Paunceford, I need not make any comment on his
character, but leave it at the mercy of your own reflection; from which
I dare say, it will meet with as little quarter as it has found with
Yours always, J. MELFORD BATH, May 10.
To Mrs MARY JONES, at Brambleton-hall.