CHAP. V.

Containing certain Adventures which befel Mr Booth in the Prison.

THE remainder of the day Mr Booth spent in melancholy contemplation on his present condition. He was destitute of the common necessaries of life, and consequently unable to subsist where he was; nor was there a single person in town to whom he could, with any reasonable hope, apply for his delivery. Grief, for some time, banished the thoughts of food from his mind; but, in the morning, nature began to grow uneasy for want of her usual nourishment: for he had not ate a morsel during the last forty hours. A penny loaf, which is, it seems, the ordinary allowance to the prisoners in Bridewell, was now delivered him; and, while he was eating this, a man brought him a little packet sealed up, informing him, that it came by a messenger who said it required no answer.

Mr Booth now opened his packet, and, after unfolding several pieces of blank paper successively, at last discovered a guinea, wrapt with great care in the innermost paper. He was vastly surprised at this sight, as he had few, if any friends, from whom he could expect such a favour, slight as it was; and not one of his friends, as he was apprized, knew of his confinement. As there was no direction to the packet, nor a word of writing contained in it, he began to suspect that it was delivered to the wrong person; and, being one of the most untainted honesty, he found out the man who gave it to him, and again examined him concerning the person who brought it, and the message delivered with it. The man assured Booth that he had made no mistake; saying, "If your name is Booth, sir, I am positive you are the gentleman to whom the parcel I gave you belongs.'

"

The most scrupulous honesty would, perhaps, in such a situation, have been well enough satisfied in finding no owner for the guinea; especially when proclamation had been made in the prison, that Mr Booth had received a packet without any direction, to which, if any person had any claim, and would discover the contents, he was ready to deliver it to such claimant. No such claimant being found, (I mean none who knew the contents; for many swore that they expected just such a packet, and believed it to be their property,) Mr Booth very calmly resolved to apply the money to his own use.

The first thing, after redemption of the coat, which Mr Booth, hungry as he was, thought of, was to supply himself with snuff, which he had long, to his great sorrow, been without. On this occasion, he presently missed that iron box which the methodist had so dexterously con

veyed out of his pocket, as we mentioned in the last chapter.

He no sooner missed this box, than he immediately suspected that the gambler was the person who had stolen it; nay, so well was he assured of this man's guilt, that it may, perhaps, be improper to say he barely suspected it. Though Mr Booth was, as we have hinted, a man of a very sweet disposition, yet was he rather over-warm. Having, therefore, no doubt concerning the person of the thief, he eagerly sought him out, and very bluntly charged him with the fact.

The gambler, whom, I think, we should now call the philosopher, received this charge without the least visible emotion either of mind or muscle. After a short pause of a few moments, he answered, with great solemnity, as follows: "Young man, I am entirely unconcerned at your groundless suspicion. He that censures a a stranger, as I am to you, without any cause, makes a worse compliment to himself than to the stranger. You know yourself, friend; you know not me. It is true, indeed, you heard me accused of being a cheat and a gamester; but who is my accuser? Look at my apparel, friend; do thieves and gamesters wear such clothes as these? Play is my folly, not my vice; it is my impulse, and I have been a martyr to it. Would a gamester have asked another to play, when he could have lost eighteen pence, and won nothing? However, if you are not satisfied, you may search my pockets; the outside of all but one will serve your turn, and in that one, there is the eighteen pence I told you of." He then turned up his clothes; and his pockets entirely resembled the pitchers of the Belides.

Booth was a little staggered at this defence. He said, the real value of the iron box was too inconsiderable to mention; but that he had a capricious value for it, for the sake of the person who gave it him: "For though it is not," said he, worth sixpence, I would willingly give a crown to any one who would bring it me again." Robinson answered, "If that be the case, you have nothing more to do but to signify your intention in the prison; and I am well convinced you will not be long without regaining the possession of your snuff-box."

This advice was immediately followed, and with success, the methodist presently producing the box; which, he said, he had found, and should have returned it before, had he known the person to whom it belonged; adding, with uplifted eyes, that the Spirit would not suffer him knowingly to detain the goods of another, however inconsiderable the value was. "Why so, friend?" said Robinson. "Have I not heard you often say, the wickeder any man was the better, provided he was what you call a belicver?"-"You mistake me," cries Cooper, (for that was the name of the methodist,) 66 no man

she gave a loose to her passion, whilst he, in the most affectionate and tender manner, endeavoured to sooth and comfort her; but passion itself did, probably, more for its own relief than all his friendly consolations.

Having vented this in a large flood of tears, she became pretty well composed; but Booth unhappily mentioning her father, she again relapsed into an agony, and cried out, "Why, why will you repeat the name of that dear man? I have disgraced him, Mr Booth; I am unworthy the name of his daughter." Here passion again stopped her words, and discharged itself in tears.

After this second vent of sorrow, or shame, or, if the reader pleases, of rage, she once more recovered from her agonies. To say the truth, these are, I believe, as critical discharges of nature as any of those which are so called by the physicians, and do more effectually relieve the mind than any remedy with which the whole materia medica of philosophy can supply it.

When Mrs Vincent had recovered her faculties, she perceived Booth standing silent, with a mixture of concern and astonishment in his countenance; then addressing herself to him with an air of most bewitching softness, of which she was a perfect mistress, she said, "I do not wonder at your amazement, Captain Booth, nor indeed at the concern which you so plainly discover for me, for I well know the goodness of your nature; but, O, Mr Booth, believe me, when you know what hath happened since our last meeting, your concern will be raised, however your astonishment may cease. O, sir, you are a stranger to the cause of my

sorrows."

"

"I hope I am, madam," answered he; " for I cannot believe what I have heard in the prison. Surely, murder" At which words she started from her chair, repeating, "Murder! Oh, it is music in my ears! You have heard, then, the cause of my commitment, my glory, my delight, my reparation! Yes, my old friend; this is the hand, this is the arm that drove the penknife to his heart. Unkind Fortune! that not one drop of his blood reached my hand. Indeed, sir, I would never have washed it from it. But though I have not the happiness to see it on my hand, I have the glorious satisfaction of remembering, I saw it run in rivers on the floor. I saw it forsake his cheeks; I saw him fall a martyr to my revenge. And is the killing a villain to be called murder? Perhaps, the law calls it so: Let it call it what it will, or punish me as it pleases. Punish me! no, no, that is not in the power of man; not of that monster man, Mr Booth. I am undone, am revenged, and have now no more business for

life; let them take it from me when they please."

Our poor gentleman turned pale with horror at this speech; and the ejaculation of “ Good heavens! what do I hear?" burst spontaneously from his lips. Nor can we wonder at this, though he was the bravest of men; for her voice, her looks, her gestures, were properly adapted to the sentiments she expressed. Such, indeed, was her image, that neither could Shakespeare describe, nor Hogarth paint, nor Clive act, a fury in higher perfection.

"What do you hear?" reiterated she; "you hear the resentment of the most injured of women. You have heard, you say, of the murder; but do you know the cause, Mr Booth ? Have you, since your return to England, visited that country where we formerly knew one another? Tell me, do you know my wretched story? tell me that, my friend."

Booth hesitated for an answer. Indeed, he had heard some imperfect stories, not much to her advantage. She waited not till he had formed a speech, but cried, "Whatever you may have heard, you cannot be acquainted with all the strange accidents which have occasioned your seeing me in a place, which, at our last parting, was so unlikely that I should ever have been found in; nor can you know the cause of all that I have uttered, and which, I am convinced, you never expected to have heard from my mouth. If these circumstances raise your curiosity, I will satisfy it."

He answered, that curiosity was too mean a word to express his ardent desire of knowing her story. Upon which, with very little previous ceremony, she began to relate what is written in the following chapter.

But, before we put an end to this, it may be necessary to whisper a word or two to the critics, who have, perhaps, begun to express no less astonishment than Mr Booth, that a lady, in whom we had remarked a most extraordinary power of displaying softness, should, the very next moment after the words were out of her mouth, express sentiments becoming the lips of a Dalilah, Jezebel, Medea, Semiramis, Parysatis, Tanaquil, Livilla, Messalina, Agrippina, Brunichilde, Elfrida, Lady Macbeth, Joan of Naples, Christina of Sweden, Catharine Hays, Sarah Malcolm, Con. Philips,* or any other heroine of the tender sex, which history, sacred or profane, ancient or modern, false or true, hath recorded.

We desire such critics to remember, that it is the same English climate in which, on the lovely 10th of June, under a serene sky, the amorous Jacobite, kissing the odoriferous zephyr's breath, gathers a nosegay of white roses to deck

the whiter breast of Celia; and in which, on the 11th of June, the very next day, the boisterous Boreas, roused by the hollow thunder, rushes horrible through the air, and, driving the wet tempest before him, levels the hope of the husbandman with the earth,-dreadful remembrance of the consequences of the Revolution!

Again, let it be remembered, that it is the self-same Celia, all tender, soft, and delicate, who, with a voice, the sweetness of which the Sirens might envy, warbles the harmonious song in praise of the young Adventurer; and again, the next day, or, perhaps, the next hour, with fiery eyes, wrinkled brows, and foaming lips, roars forth treason and nonsense in a political argument with some fair one of a different principle.

Or, if the critic be a Whig, and consequently dislikes such kind of similies, as being too favourable to Jacobitism, let him be contented with the following story:

I happened, in my youth, to sit behind two ladies in a side-box at a play, where, in the bal cony on the opposite side, was placed the inimitable By C—s, in company with a young fellow, of no very formal, or, indeed, sober appearance. One of the ladies, I remember, said to the other, "Did you ever see any thing look so modest and so innocent as that girl over the way? What pity is it such a creature should be in the way of ruin, as I am afraid she is, by her being alone with that young fellow!" Now this lady was no bad physiognomist; for it was impossible to conceive a greater appearance of modesty, innocence, and simplicity, than what Nature had displayed in the countenance of that girl; and yet, all appearances notwithstanding, I myself (remember, critic, it was in my youth) had, a few mornings before, seen that very identical picture of all those engaging qualities in bed with a rake at a bagnio, smoking tobacco, drinking punch, talking obscenity, and swearing and cursing, with all the impudence and impiety of the lowest and most abandoned trull of a soldier.

CHAP. VII.

In which Miss Matthews begins her History.

MISS MATTHEWS having barred the door on the inside as securely as it was before barred on the outside, proceeded as follows:

"You may imagine I am going to begin my history at the time when you left the country; but I cannot help reminding you of something which happened before. You will soon recollect the incident; but, I believe, you little know the consequence either at that time or since. Alas! I could keep a secret then: now, I have no secrets; the world knows all; and it is not

worth my while to conceal any thing. Well, you will not wonder, I believe,—I protest, I can hardly tell it you even now. But I am convinced you have too good an opinion of yourself, to be surprised at any conquest you may have made. Few men want that good opinion; and, perhaps, very few had ever more reason for it. Indeed, Will, you was a charming fellow in those days; nay, you are not much altered for the worse now, at least in the opinion of some women; for your complexion and features are grown much more masculine than they were."

Here Booth made her a low bow, most probably with a compliment; and, after a little hesitation, she again proceeded:-" Do you remember a contest which happened at an assembly betwixt myself and Miss Johnson, about standing uppermost? You was then my partner, and young Williams danced with the other lady. The particulars are not now worth men◄ tioning, though, I suppose, you have long since forgot them. Let it suffice that you supported my claim, and Williams very sneakingly gave up that of his partner, who was, with much difficulty, afterwards prevailed to dance with him. You said, (I am sure I repeat the words exactly,) that you would not for the world affront any lady there; but that you thought you might, without any such danger, declare, that there was no assembly in which that lady (meaning your humble servant) was not worthy of the uppermost place; nor will I,' said you, suffer the first duke in England, when she is at the uppermost end of the room, and hath called her dance, to lead his partner above her.'

"What made this the more pleasing to me was, that I secretly hated Miss Johnson. Will you have the reason? why, then, I will tell you honestly; she was my rival. That word perhaps astonishes you, as you never, I believe, heard of any one who made his addresses to me; and, indeed, my heart was, till that night, entirely indifferent to all mankind. I mean, then, that she was my rival for praise, for beauty, for dress, for fortune, and, consequently, for admiration. My triumph on this conquest is not to be expressed, any more than my delight in the person to whom I chiefly owed it. The former, I fancy, was visible to the whole company, and I desired it should be so; but the latter was so well concealed, that no one, I am confident, took any notice of it. And yet you appeared to me that night to be an angel! You looked, you danced, you spoke,-every thing charmed me!"

"Good heavens!" cries Booth, " is it possible you should do me so much unmerited honour, and I should be dunce enough not to perceive the least symptom?”

"I assure you," answered she, " I did all I could to prevent you; and yet I almost hated you for not seeing through what I strove to hide. Why, Mr Booth, was you not more

quick-sighted? I will answer for you: Your affections were more happily disposed of to a much better woman than myself, whom you married soon afterwards. I should ask you for her, Mr Booth; I should have asked you for her before; but I am unworthy of asking for her, or of calling her my acquaintance."

Booth stopped her short, as she was running into another fit of passion, and begged her to omit all former matters, and acquaint him with that part of her history to which he was an entire stranger.

She then renewed her discourse as follows: "You know, Mr Booth, I soon afterwards left that town, upon the death of my grandmother, and returned home to my father's house; where I had not been long arrived, before some troops of dragoons came to quarter in our neighbourhood. Among the officers, there was a cornet, whose detested name was Hebbers; a name I could scarce repeat, had I not, at the same time, the pleasure to reflect that he is now no more. My father, you know, who is a hearty wellwisher to the present government, used always to invite the officers to his house; so did he these. Nor was it long before this cornet in so particular a manner recommended himself to the poor old gentleman, (I cannot think of him without tears,) that our house became his principal habitation, and he was rarely at his quarters, unless when his superior officers obliged him to be there. I shall say nothing of his person, nor could that be any recommendation to a man; it was such, however, as no woman could have made an objection to. Nature had certainly wrapped up her odious work in a most beautiful covering. To say the truth, he was the handsomest man, except one only, that I ever saw-I assure you, I have seen a handsomer-but-well. He had, besides, all the qualifications of a gentleman: was genteel, and extremely polite; spoke French well, and danced to a miracle; but what chiefly recommended him to my father was his skill in music, of which, you know, that dear man was the most violent lover. I wish he was not too susceptible of flattery on that head; for I have heard Hebbers often greatly commend my father's performance, and have observed, that the good man was wonderfully pleased with such commendations. To say the truth, it is the only way I can account for the extraordinary friendship which my father conceived for this person; such a friendship, that he at last became a part of our family.

"This very circumstance, which, as I am convinced, strongly recommended him to my father, had the very contrary effect with me. I had never any delight in music; and it was not without much difficulty I was prevailed on to learn to play on the harpsichord, in which I had made a very slender progress. As this man, therefore, was frequently the occasion of my be

ing importuned to play against my will, I be-. gan to entertain some dislike for him on that account; and as to his person, I assure you, I long continued to look on it with great indifference.

"How strange will the art of this man appear to you presently, who had sufficient address to convert that very circumstance, which had at first occasioned my dislike, into the first seeds of affection for him!

"You have often, I believe, heard my sister Betty play on the harpsichord; she was, indeed, reputed the best performer in the whole country.

"I was the farthest in the world from regarding this perfection of hers with envy. In reality, perhaps, I despised all perfection of this kind; at least, as I had neither skill nor ambition to excel this way, I looked upon it as a matter of mere indifference.

"Hebbers first put this emulation in my head. He took great pains to persuade me, that I had much greater abilities of the musical kind than my sister; and that I might, with the greatest ease, if I pleased, excel her; offering me, at the same time, his assistance, if I would resolve to undertake it.

"When he had sufficiently inflamed my ambition, in which perhaps he found too little difficulty, the continual praises of my sister, which before I had disregarded, became more and more nauseous in my ears; and the rather, as music being the favourite passion of my father, I became apprehensive (not without frequent hints from Hebbers of that nature) that she might gain too great a preference in his favour.

"To my harpsichord, then, I applied myself night and day, with such industry and attention, that I soon began to perform in a tolerable manner. I do not absolutely say I excelled my sister, for many were of a different opinion; but, indeed, there might be some partiality in all that.

Hebbers, at least, declared himself on my side, and nobody could doubt his judgment. He asserted openly, that I played in the better manner of the two; and one day, when I was playing to him alone, he affected to burst into a

rapture of admiration, and, squeezing me gently by the hand, said, 'There, madam, I now declare you excel your sister as much in music, as,' added he, in a whispering sigh, you do her, and all the world, in every other charm.'

"No woman can bear any superiority in whatever thing she desires to excel in. I now began to hate all the admirers of my sister; to be uneasy at every commendation bestowed on her skill in music; and, consequently, to love Hebbers for the preference which he gave to mine.

"It was now that I began to survey the handsome person of Hebbers with pleasure. And here, Mr Booth, I will betray to you the grand secret of our sex. Many women, I believe, do,