Chapter II: Part 2

But to shew that love and business are not wholly incompatible, his attachment to Delia did not take him off his learning, nor did his application to learning make him forgetful of Delia. He frequently thought of her, wished to see her, and longed for the next breaking-up, that he might re-enjoy that satisfaction, as he knew she intended to stay the whole winter at his father's; but now arrived the time to prove the inconstancy of human nature: he became acquainted with some other little misses, and by degrees found charms in them, which made those he had observed in Delia appear less admirable in his eyes; the fondness he had felt for her being in reality instigated chiefly by being the only one of his own age he had conversed with, a more general acquaintance with others not only wore off the impression she had made, but also kept him from receiving too deep a one from the particular perfections of any of those he now was pleased with:--it is likely, however, that the sight of her might have revived in him some part of his former tenderness, had he found her, as he expected he should, on his next coming to London: but an elder sister she had in the country, happening to die, she was sent for home, in order to console their mother for that loss; so that he had not any trial on that account; and tho' he thought he should have been glad of her society, during his stay in town, yet her absence gave him small anxiety; and the variety of company which came to the house on account of the baptism of a little son his mother-in-law had lately brought into the world, very well atoned for the want of Delia.

Nothing material happening to him during his stay in town at this time, nor in any other of the many visits he made his father while he continued at Eton, I shall pass over those years, and only say, that as he grew nearer to manhood, his passions gathered strength in proportion; and tho' he increased in knowledge, yet it was not that sort of knowledge which enables us to judge of the emotions we feel within ourselves, or to set curbs on those, which to indulge renders us liable to inconveniences.

All those propensities, of which he gave such early indications, and which I attempted to describe in the beginning of this book, now displayed themselves with greater vigour, and according as exterior objects presented, or circumstances excited, ruled with alternate sway: sparing sometimes to niggardliness, at others profusely liberal;--now pleased, now angry;--submissive this moment, arrogant and assuming the next;--seldom in a perfect calm, and frequently agitated to excess.--Hence arose contests and quarrels, even with those whose company in some humours he was most delighted with;--insolence to such whose way of thinking did not happen to tally with his own, and as partial an attachment to those who either did, or pretended to enter into his sentiments.

But as it was only in trivial matters, and such as were meerly boyish, he yet had opportunity of exercising the passions, his behaviour only served to shew what man would be, when arrived at maturity, if not restrained by precept.

He had attained to little more than sixteen years of age, when he had gone through all the learning of the school, and was what they call fit for the university, to which his father not intending him for the study of any particular science, did not think it necessary to send him, but rather to bestow on him those other accomplishments, which are immediately expected from a gentleman of an estate; such as fencing, dancing, and music, and accordingly provided masters to instruct him in each, as soon as he came home, which was about the time of life I mentioned.

As he was now past the age of being treated as a meer child, and also knew better how it would become him to behave to the wife of his father, his mother-in-law seemed to live with him in harmony enough, and the family at least was not divided into parties as it had been, and eighteen or nineteen months past over, without any rub in our young gentleman's tranquility.

Since his childish affection for Delia, he had not been possessed of what could be called a strong inclination for any particular female; though, as many incidents in his life afterwards proved, he had a no less amorous propensity than any of his sex, and was equally capable of going the greatest lengths for its gratification.

He was but just turned of nineteen, when happening to pass by the playhouse one evening, he took it into his head to go in, and see the last act of a very celebrated tragedy acted that night.--But it was not the poet's or the player's art which so much engaged his attention, as the numerous and gay assembly which filled every part of the house.--He was in the back bench of one of the front boxes, from which he had a full prospect of all who sat below:--but in throwing his eyes around on every dazzling belle, he found none so agreeable to him as a young lady who was placed in the next division of the box:--her age did not seem to exceed his own, and tho' less splendid in garb and jewels than several who sat near her, had something in her eyes and air, that, in his opinion, at least, infinitely exceeded them all.

When the curtain dropt, and every one was crowding out as fast they could, he lost not sight of her; and finding when they came out to the door, that she, and a companion she had with her, somewhat older than herself, seemed distressed for chairs, which by reason of the great concourse, seemed difficult to be got, he took the opportunity, in a very polite manner, to offer himself for their protector, as he perceived they had neither friend nor servant with them. They accepted it with a great deal of seeming modesty, and he conducted them through a passage belonging to the house which he knew was less thronged, and thence put them into a hackney coach, having first obtained their permission to attend them to their lodgings, or wherever else they pleased to be set down.

When they arrived at the place to which they gave the coachman a direction, he would have taken leave of them at the door; but they joined in entreating him, that since he had been at the pains of bringing them safe home, he would come in and refresh himself with such as their apartment could supply: there required little invitation to a thing his heart so sincerely wished, tho' his fears of being thought too presuming, would not suffer him to ask it.

He went up stairs, and found rooms decently furnished, and a maid-servant immediately spread the table with a genteel cold collation; but what he looked upon as the most elegant part of the entertainment, was the agreeable chit-chat during the time of supper, and a song the lady who had so much attracted him, gave him, at her friend's request, after the cloth was taken away.

It growing late, his fears of offending where he already had such an inclination to oblige, made him about to take his leave; but could not do it without intreating permission to wait on them the next day, to receive pardon, as he said, for having by his long stay, broke in upon the hours should have been devoted to repose. Tho' this compliment, and indeed all the others he had made, were directed to both, the regard his eyes paid to the youngest, easily shewed the preference he secretly gave to her; and as neither of these women wanted experience in such affairs, knew very well how to make the most of any advantage. 'If this lodging were mine,' replied the eldest briskly, 'I should have anticipated the request you make; but as I am only a guest, and take part of my friend's bed to-night on account of the hour, will take upon me to say, she ought not to refuse greater favours to so accomplished a gentleman, and from whom we have received so much civility.'

Natura did not fail to answer this gallantry in a proper manner, and departed highly satisfied with his adventure; tho' probably could find less reasons for being so, than those with whom he thought it the greatest happiness of his life to have become acquainted.

Wonderful are the workings of love on a young heart: pleasure has the same effect as pain, and permits as little rest: it was not in the power of Natura to close his eyes for a long time after he went to bed.--He recollected every thing the dear creature had said;--in what manner she looked, when speaking such or such a thing;--how inchanting she sang, and what a genteelness accompanied all she did:--when he fell into a slumber, it was only to bring her more perfectly into his mind; whatever had past in the few hours he had been with her, returned, with additional graces on her part, and her idea had in sleep all the effect her real presence could have had in waking.

With what care did he dress himself the next day:--what fears was he not possessed of, lest all about him should not be exact:--never yet had he consulted the great glass with such assiduity;--never till now examined how far he had been indebted to nature for personal endowments.

His impatience would have carried him to pay a morning visit, but he feared that would be too great a freedom, and therefore restrained himself till after dinner, though what he eat could scarce be called so; the food his _mind_ languished for, being wanting, the body was too complaisant to indulge itself.--After rising from table, not a minute passed without looking on his watch, and at the same time cursing the tedious seconds, which seemed to him increased from sixty to six hundred.--The hour of five at length put an end to his suspence, and he took his way to the dear, well-remembered mansion of his adorable.

He found her at home, and in a careless, but most becoming dishabillee; the other lady was still with her; and told him she had tarried thus long with Miss Harriot, for so she called her, meerly to participate of the pleasure of his good company. Harriot, in a gay manner, accused her of envy, and both having a good share of wit, the conversation might have been pleasing enough to a man less prepossessed than Natura.

The tea equipage was set, and the ceremony of that being over, cards were proposed; as they were three, Ombre was the game, at which they played some hours, and Natura was asked to sup.--After what I have said, I believe the reader has no occasion to be told that he complied with a pleasure which was but too visible in his eyes.--The time passed insensibly on, or at least seemed to do so to the friend of Harriot, till the watchman reminding her it was past eleven, she started up, and pretending a surprize, that the night was so far advanced, told Natura that she must exact a second proof of that gallantry he had shewn the night before, for she had not courage to go either in a chair or a coach alone at that late hour:--this doubtless was what he would have offered, had she been silent on the occasion; and a coach being ordered to the door, he took leave of miss Harriot, though not till he had obtained leave to testify his respects in some future visits.

Had Natura appeared to have more experience of the town, the lady he gallanted home would certainly not have entertained him with the discourse she did; but his extreme youth, and the modest manner of his behaviour on the first sight of him, convinced them he was a person such as they wished to have in their power, and to that end had concerted measures between themselves, to perfect the conquest which, it was easy to perceive, one of them had begun to make over him.

Harriot being the person with whom they found he was enamoured, it was the business of the other to do for her what, it may be supposed, she would have done for her on the like occasion.--Natura was no sooner in the coach with her, than she began to magnify the charms of her fair friend, but above all extolled her virtue, her prudence, and good humour:--then, as if only to give a proof of her patience and fortitude, that her parents dying when she was an infant, had left her with a vast fortune in the hands of a guardian, who attempting to defraud her of the greatest part, she was now at law with him, 'and is obliged to live, till the affair is decided,' said this artful woman, 'in the narrow manner you see,--without a coach,--without any equipage; and yet she bears it all with chearfulness:--she has a multiplicity of admirers,' added she, 'but she assures all of them, that she will never marry, till she knows what present she shall be able to give with herself to the man she shall make choice of.'

Till now Natura had never asked himself the question how far his passion for Harriot extended, or with what view he should address her; but when he heard she was a woman of condition, and would have a fortune answerable to her birth, he began to think it would be happy for him if he could obtain her love on the most honourable terms.

It would be too tedious to relate all the particulars of his courtship; so I shall only say, that humble and timid as the first emotions of a sincere passion are, he was emboldened, by the extraordinary complaisance of Harriot, to declare it to her in a few days.--The art with which she managed on this occasion, might have deceived the most knowing in the sex; it is not, therefore, surprizing, that he should be caught in a snare, which, though ruinous as it had like to have been, had in it allurements scarce possible to be withstood at his time of life.

It was by such degrees as the most modest virgin need not blush to own, that she confessed herself sensible of an equal tenderness for him; and nothing is more strange, than that in the transport he was in, at the condescensions she made him, that he did not immediately press for the consummation of his happiness by marriage; but tho' he wished for nothing so much, yet he was with-held by the fears of his father, who he thought would not approve of such a step, as the fortune he imagined she had a right to, was yet undetermined, and himself, tho' an elder son, and the undoubted heir of a very good estate, at present wholly dependant on him.--He communicated his sentiments to Harriot on this head with the utmost sincerity, protesting at the same time that he should never enjoy a moment's tranquility till he could call her his own.

She seemed to approve of the caution he testified;--said it was such as she had always resolved religiously to observe herself; 'tho' I know not,' cried she, looking on him with the most passionate air, 'how far I might have been tempted to break thro' all for your sake; but it is well one of us is wise enough to foresee and tremble at the consequences of a marriage between two persons whose fortunes are unestablished.'--Then, finding he made her no other answer than some kisses, accompanied with a strenuous embrace, she went on; 'there is a way,' resumed she, 'to secure us to each other, without danger of disobliging any body; and that is by a contract: I never can be easy, while I think there is a possibility of your transferring your affection to some other, and if you love me with half that degree of tenderness you pretend, you cannot but feel the same anxiety.'

Natura was charmed with this proposition, and it was agreed between them, that her lawyer should draw up double contracts in form, which should be signed and delivered interchangeably by both parties. Accordingly, the very next day, the fatal papers were prepared, and he subscribed his name to that which was to remain in her custody, as she did her's to that given to him. Each being witnessed by the woman with whom he first became acquainted with her, and another person called into the room for that purpose.

Natura now considering her as his wife, thought himself intitled to take greater liberties than he had ever presumed to do before, and she had also a kind of a pretence for permitting them, till at last there remained nothing more for him to ask, or her to grant.

Enjoyment made no abatement in his passion; his fondness was rather increased by it, and he never thought himself happy, but when with her; he went to her almost every night, and sometimes passed all night with her, having made an interest with one of the servants, who let him in at whatever hour he came:--so totally did she engross his mind, that he seemed to have not the least attention for any thing beside: nor was the time he wasted with her all the prejudice she did him:--all the allowance made him by his father for cloaths and other expences, he dissipated in treats and presents to her, running in debt for every thing he had occasion for.

But this was insufficient for her expectations; she wanted a sum of money, and pretending that her law-suit required a hundred guineas immediately, and that some remittances she was to have from the country would come too late, told him he must raise it for her some way or other.

This demand was a kind of thunder-stroke to Natura; not but he doated on her enough to have sacrificed infinitely more to her desires, if in his power; but what she asked seemed so wholly out of reach, that he knew not any way by which there was the least probability of attaining it. The embarrassment that appeared in his countenance made her see it was not so easy for him to grant, as it was for her to ask. 'I should have wanted courage,' said she, 'to have made you this request, had I not considered that what is mine must one day be yours, and it will be your own unhappiness as well as mine, should my cause miscarry for want of means to carry it on.'--'Severe necessity!' added she, letting fall some tears, 'that reduces me to intreat favours where I could wish only to bestow them.'

These words destroyed all the remains of prudence his love had left in him; he embraced her, kissed away her tears, and assured her that though, as he was under age, and had but a small allowance from his father, it was not at this time very easy for him to comply with her demand, yet she might depend upon him for the money the next day, let it cost what it would, or whatever should be the consequence.

He left her that night much sooner than was his custom, in order to consult within himself on the means of fulfilling his promise to her, which, to have failed in, would have been more terrible to him than death.

CHAP. V.

That to indulge any one fault, brings with it the temptation of
committing others, is demonstrated by the behaviour of Natura, and
the misfortunes and disgrace which an ill-judged shame had like to
have involved him in.

Never had Natura experienced so cruel a night; a thousand stratagems came into his head, but for some reason or other all seemed alike impracticable, and the morning found him in no more easy a situation.--He put on his cloaths hastily, and resolved to go to all the acquaintance he had in the world, and try the friendship of each, by borrowing what sums he thought they might be able to spare: but first, going into his father's closet, as was his custom every morning to pay his duty to him, he found a person with him who was paying him a large sum of money: the sight of what he so much wanted filled him with inexpressible agitations:--he would have given almost a limb to have had in his possession so much of that shining ore as Harriot expected from him; and wished that some sudden accident, even to the falling of the house, would happen, that in the confusion he might seize on some part of the treasure he saw before him.

The person, after the affair which brought him there was over, took leave of the father of Natura, who having thrown the money into his bureau, to a large heap was there before, waited on him down stairs, without staying to lock the drawer.

Often had Natura been present when his father received larger sums than this, and doubtless had the same opportunity as now to make himself master of some part, or all of it; but never till this unhappy exigence had the least temptation to do so.--It came into his head that the accident was perfectly providential, and that he ought not to neglect the only means by which he could perform his promise;--that his father could very well spare the sum he wanted, and that it was only taking before the time what by inheritance must be his own hereafter.--In this imagination he opened the drawer, and was about to pursue his intention, when he recollected that the money would certainly be missed, and either the fault be laid upon some innocent person, who might suffer for his crime; or he himself would be suspected of a thing, which, in this second thought, he found so mean and wicked, that he was shocked almost to death, for having been capable of even a wish to be guilty of it.--He shut the drawer again,--turned himself away, and was in the utmost confusion of mind, when his father returned into the room; which shews that there is a native honesty in the human nature, which nothing but a long practice of base actions can wholly eradicate: and I dare believe that even those we see most hardened in vice, have felt severe struggles within themselves at first, and have often looked back upon the paths of virtue, wishing, tho' fruitlesly, to return.

Natura, however, did not give over his pursuit of the means of performing his promise: on the contrary, he thought himself obliged by all the ties of love, honour, and even self-interest, to do it; but difficult as he believed the task would be, he found it much more so than he could even have imagined: his intimacy being only with such, as being much of his own age, and like him were at an allowance from their parents or guardians, it was not in the power of any of them to contribute a large sum toward making up that he wanted; the most he got from any one being no more than five guineas, and all he raised among the whole amounted to no more than twenty, and some odd pounds.

Distracted with his ill fortune, he ventured to go to an uncle he had by the mother's side, and after many complaints of his father's parsimony, told him, that having been drawn into some expences, which, though not extravagant, were more than his little purse could supply, he had broke into some money given him to pay his taylor, whom he feared would demand it of his father, and he knew not how far the ill-will of his mother-in-law might exaggerate the matter; concluding with an humble petition for twenty guineas, which he told him he would faithfully return by degrees.

As Natura had the character of a sober youth, the good old gentleman was moved by the distress he saw him in, and readily granted his request, tho' not without some admonitions to confine for the future his expences to his allowance, be it ever so small.

Thus Natura having with all his diligence not been able to raise quite half of the sum in question, was quite distracted what to do, and as he afterwards owned, more than once repented him of those scruples which had prevented him from serving himself at once out of his father's purse; tho' had the same opportunity again presented itself, it is scarce possible to believe by the rest of his behaviour, that he would have made use of it, or if he had, that he could have survived the shame and remorse it would have caused in him.

In his desperation he ran at last to the house of a noted money-scrivener, a great acquaintance of the family, and in his whose hands his father frequently reposed his ready cash: to this man he communicates his distress, and easily prevails with him to let him have fifty pounds, on giving him a note to pay him an hundred for it when he should come of age, his father having said he would then make a settlement on him.

This, however, was still somewhat short of what Harriot had demanded; but he left his watch at a pawn-broker's for the rest; and having compleated the sum, went transported with joy, and threw it into the lap of that idol of his soul; after which, he was for some days perfectly at ease, indulging himself with all he at present wished for, and losing no time in thought of what might happen to interrupt his happiness.

But while he battened in the sun-shine of his pleasures, storms of vexation were gathering over his head, which, when he least expected such a shock, poured all their force upon him.

The first time his uncle happened to see his father, he fell on the topic of the necessity there was for young gentlemen born to estates, and educated in a liberal manner, to be enabled to keep his equals company; adding, that if the parsimony of a parent, denied them an allowance, agreeable to their rank, it might either drive them to ill courses, or force them to associate themselves only with mean, low-bred people, among whom they might lose all the politeness had been inculcated into them. The father of Natura, well knowing he had nothing to answer for on this account, never suspected this discourse was directed to him in particular, and joined in his brother-in-law's opinion, heartily blaming those parents, who, by being too sparing to their children, destroyed all natural affection in them, and gave them some sort of an excuse for wishing for their death:--he thanked God he was not of that disposition, and then told him what he allowed per quarter to Natura, 'with which,' added he, 'I believe he is intirely satisfied.' The other replying, that indeed he thought it more than sufficient, the conversation dropped; but what sentiments he now began to conceive of his nephew it is easy to conceive; the father however thought no farther of this, till soon after the scrivener came to wait on him:--he was a perfect honest man, and had lent Natura the money meerly to prevent his applying to some other person, who possibly might have taken advantage of his thoughtlessness, so far as even to have brought on his utter ruin, too many such examples daily happening in the world: to deter him also from going on in this course, he demanded that exorbitant interest for his money abovementioned, which, notwithstanding, as he assured his father, in relating to him the whole transaction, he was far from any intention to make him pay.

Never was astonishment greater than that in which the father of Natura was now involved;--the discourse of his brother-in-law now came fresh into his mind, and he recollected some words which, tho' he did not observe at the time they were spoken, now convinced him had a meaning which he could not have imagined there was any room for.--He had no sooner parted from the scrivener, than he flew to that gentleman, and having related to him what had passed between him and the scrivener, conjured him, if he could give him any farther lights into the affair, not to keep him in ignorance: on which the other thought it his duty to conceal nothing, either of the complaints, or request had been made him by his nephew:--after some exclamations on the extravagance and thoughtlessness of youth, the afflicted father went in search of more discoveries, which he found it but too easy to make among the tradesmen, all of whom he found had been unpaid for some time.

It would be needless to go about to make any description of the confusion of mind he was in:--he shut himself in his closet, uncertain for some time how he should proceed; at last, as he considered there was not a possibility of reclaiming his son from whatever vice had led him thus all at once into such extravagancies, without first knowing what kind of vice it was; he resolved to talk to him, and penetrate, if possible, into the source of this evil.

Accordingly the next morning he went into the chamber where Natura was yet in bed; and began to entertain him in the manner he had proposed to himself:--first, he let him know, that he was not unacquainted with every step he had taken for raising a sum, which he could not conceive he had any occasion for, as well as his having with-held the money he had given him to discharge his tradesmen's bills:--then proceeded to set before his eyes the folly and danger of having hid, at his years, any secrets from a parent; concluding with telling him, he had yet a heart capable or forgiving what was past, provided he would behave in a different manner for the future.

What Natura felt at finding so much of what he had done revealed to his father, was greatly alleviated, by perceiving that the main thing, his engagement with Harriot, was a secret to him:--he did not fail to make large promises of being a better oeconomist, nor to express the most dutiful gratitude for the pardon the good old gentleman so readily offered; but this he told him was not sufficient to deserve a re-establishment in his favour, he must also give him a faithful account by what company, and for what purposes he had been induced to such ill husbandry; 'for,' added he, 'without a sincere confession of the motives of our past transactions, there can be little assurances of future amendment.'

Natura to this only answered, that it was impossible to recount the particulars of his expences, and made so many evasions, on his father's still continuing to press his being more explicit, that he easily perceived there would be no coming at the truth by gentle means; and therefore, throwing off at once a tenderness so ineffectual, he assumed all the authority of an offended parent, and told the trembling Natura, that since he knew not how to behave as a _son_, he should cease to be a _father_, in every thing but in his authority:--'be assured,' said be, 'I shall take sure measures to prevent you from bringing either ruin or disgrace upon a family of which you are the first profligate:--this chamber must be your prison, till I have considered in what fashion I shall dispose of you.'

With these words he flung out of the room, locking the door after him; so that when Natura rose, as he immediately did, he found himself indeed under confinement, which seemed so shameful a thing to him, that he was ready to tear himself in pieces:--it was not the grief of having offended so good a father, but the disgrace of the punishment inflicted on him, which gave him the most poignant anguish, and far from feeling any true contrition, he was all rage and madness, which having no means to vent in words, discovered itself in sullenness:--when the servant to whom he intrusted the key came in to bring him food, he refused to eat, and could scarce restrain himself from throwing in the man's face what he had brought.

It is certain, that while under this circumstance, he was agitated at once by every different unruly passion:--pride, anger, spleen, thinking himself a man, at finding the treatment of a _boy_, made him almost hate the person from whom he received it.--The apprehensions what farther meaning might be couched in the menace with which his father left him, threw him sometimes into a terror little different from convulsive;--but above all, his impatience for seeing his dear Harriot, and the surprize, the grief, and perhaps the resentment, he imagined she must feel on his absenting himself, drove him into a kind of despair.

In fine, unable to sustain the violence of his agitations, on the third night, regardless of what consequences might ensue from giving this additional cause of displeasure to his father, he found means to push back the lock of his chamber, and flew down stairs, and out at the street-door with so much speed, that it would have been impossible to have stopped him, had any one heard him, which none happened to do, it being midnight, and all the family in a sound sleep.

That he went directly to the lodgings of Harriot, I believe my reader will make no doubt; but perhaps her character does not yet enough appear, to give any suspicion of the reception he found there.

In effect, she was no other than one of those common creatures, who procure a miserable subsistance by the prostitution of their charms; and as nature had not been sparing to her on that score, and she was yet young, though less so than she appeared thro' art, she wanted not a number of gallants, who all contributed, more or less, to her living in the manner she did: several of these had happened to come when Natura was with her; but she having had the precaution to acquaint them with her design of drawing in this young spark for a husband, they took the cue she gave them, each passing before him either for a cousin, or one of the lawyers employed in her pretended suit.

It was with one of these equally happy, tho' less deluded rivals of Natura, that finding he did not come, she had agreed to pass this night; and her maid, as the servants of such women, for the most part, imitate their mistresses, happened to be at the door, either about to introduce, or let out a lover of her own;--the sight of a man at that time of night, with one who belonged to his beloved, immediately fired Natura with jealousy:--he seized the fellow by the collar, and in a voice hoarse with rage, asked him what business he had there? To which the other replied only with a blow on the face, the wench shrieked out, but Natura was either stronger or more nimble than his competitor; he presently tripped up his heels, and ran up stairs.--Harriot and her lover hearing somewhat of a scuffle, the latter started out of bed, and opened the chamber-door, in order to listen what had occasioned it, just as Natura had reached the stair-case.--If his soul was inflamed before, what must it now have been, to see a man in his shirt, and just risen from the arms of Harriot, who still lay trembling in bed:--he flew upon him like an incensed lion; but the other being more robust, soon disengaged himself and snatching his sword, which lay on a table near the door, was going to put an end to the life of his disturber; when Harriot cried out, 'Hold! hold!--for heaven's sake!--It is my husband!'--Natura having no weapon wherewith he might defend himself, or hurt his adversary, revenge gave way to self-preservation; and only saying, 'husband, no;--I will die rather than be the husband of so vile a woman,' run down with the same precipitation he had come up.

Impossible it is to describe the condition of his mind when got into the street:--his once violent affection was now converted into the extremest hatred and contempt;--he detested not only Harriot, and the whole sex, but even himself, for having been made the dupe of so unworthy a creature, and could have tore out his own heart, for having joined with her in deceiving him.--Having wandered about some time, giving a loose to his fury, the considerations of what he should do, at last took their turn:--home he could not go, the servant who used to admit him knew nothing of his being out, and he durst not alarm the family by knocking at the door, having passed by several times, and found all fast.

In this perplexity, as he went through a street he had not been used to frequent, he saw a door open, and a great light in a kind of hall, with servants attending:--he asked one of them to whom it belonged, and was told it was a gaming-house, on which he went in, not with any desire of playing, but to pass away some time; finding a great deal of company there, he notwithstanding engaged himself at one of the tables, and tho' he was not in a humour which would permit him to exert much skill, he won considerably.

The company did not break up till five in the morning, and he then growing drowsy, and yet unable to find any excuse to make to his father, he could not think of seeing his face, so went to a bagnio to take that repose he had sufficient need of, the fatigues of his mind having never suffered him to enjoy any sound sleep, since his father's discovery of the extravagance he had been guilty of.

On his awaking, the transaction of the preceding night returned to his remembrance with all its galling circumstances, and the more he reflected on his disobedience to his father, the less he could endure the thoughts of coming into his presence:--in fine, that shame which so often prevents people from doing amiss, was now the motive which restrained him from doing what he ought to have done.--Had he immediately gone home, thrown himself at his father's feet, and confessed the truth, his youthful errors had doubtless merited forgiveness; but this, though he knew it was both his duty, and his interest, he could not prevail on himself to do; and to avoid the rebukes he was sensible were due to his transgressions, he resolved to hide himself as long as he could from the faces of all those who had a right to make them.

In fine, he led the life of a perfect vagabond, sculking from one place to another, and keeping company with none but gamesters, rakes, and sharpers, falling into all manner of dissolution; and whenever his reason remonstrated any thing to him on these vicious courses, he would then, to banish remorse for one fault, fly to others, yet worse, and more destructive.

It is true, he often looked back upon his _former_ behaviour, and was struck with horror at comparing it with the _present_;--the reflection too how much his mother-in-law might take advantage of the just displeasure of his father against him, to prejudice him in his future fortune, even to cause him to be disinherited, sometimes most cruelly alarmed him; yet, not all this, nor the wants he was plunged in on an ill run at play, (which was the sole means by which he subsisted) were sufficient to bring him to do that which he now even wished to do, tired with the conversation of those profligates, and secretly shocked at the scenes of libertinism he was a daily witness of.

His thoughts thus divided and perplexed, he at length fell into a kind of despair; and not caring what became of himself, he resolved to enter on board some ship, and never see England again, unless fortune should do more than he had reason to hope for in his favour.

CHAP. VI.

Shews the great force of natural affection and the good effects it
has over a grateful mind.

If children could be sensible of parental tenderness, or knew what racking cares attend every misdoing of an offending offspring, the heart of Natura would have been so much touched with what his father endured on his account, as to have enabled him to have got the better of that guilty shame, which alone hindered him from submitting to him; but conscious of deferring only the severest reproofs, he could not flatter himself there was a hope of ever being reinstated in that affection he had once possessed, and was too proud to content himself with less.

That afflicted parent being informed of his son's flight, spared no cost or pains to find out the place of his retreat; but all his enquiries were in vain, and he was wholly in the dark, till it came into his head to search a little escritore which stood in his chamber, and of which he had taken away the key: on breaking it open, he found the counterpart of his contract with Harriot, and by that discovery was no longer at a loss for the motives which had obliged his son to raise money, not doubting but the woman was either extremely indigent; or a jilt: but to think the heir of his estate had been so weak as to enter into so solemn and irretrievable an engagement, with a person of either of these characters, gave him an inexpressible disquiet. All his endeavours were now bent on finding her out, not in the least questioning but his son was with her: the task was pretty difficult, the contract discovering no more of her than her name, and the parish in which she lived; yet did the emissaries he employed at last surmount it: they brought him word not only of the exact place where she lodged, but also of her character, as they learned it from the neighbours; they heard also that a young gentleman, whose description answered that of Natura, had been often seen with her, and that she had given out she was married to him.

The father having received this information, consulted with his brother-in-law what course was to be taken, and both being of opinion, that should any enquiry be made concerning Natura, it would only oblige them to quit their lodgings, and fly to some place where, perhaps, it would be more difficult to trace them; it was agreed to get a lord chief justice's warrant, and search her lodgings, without giving any previous alarm.

This was no sooner resolved than put in execution: the father and uncle, attended by proper officers, burst into the house, and examined carefully every part of it; but not finding him, they sought, and perfectly perswaded Harriot could give intelligence of him, they threatened her severely, and here she displayed herself in her proper colours;--nothing ever behaved with greater impudence:--she told them, that she knew nothing of the fool they wanted; but if she could find him, would make him know what the obligations between them exacted from him: in fine, it was easy for them to perceive, there was nothing satisfactory to be obtained from her, and they departed with akeing hearts, but left not the street without securing to their interest a person in the neighbourhood, who promised to keep a continual eye upon her door, and if they ever saw the young gentleman go in, to send them immediate notice.

It is needless to acquaint the reader how fruitless this precaution was: Natura was far from any inclination ever more to enter that detested house, and in that desponding humour, already mentioned, had certainly left the kingdom, and compleated his utter undoing, if Providence had not averted his design, by the most unexpected means.

He was at Wapping, in the company of some persons who used the sea, in order to get into some ship, he cared not in what station, when a young man, clerk to an eminent merchant of his father's acquaintance, happened to come in, to enquire after the master of a vessel, by whom some goods belonging to his master were to be shipped: he had often seen Natura, and though much altered by his late way of living, knew him to be the person whom he had heard so great a search had been made after: he took no notice of him however, as he found the other bent earnestly in discourse did not observe him, but privately informed himself of all he could relating to his business there, and as soon as he came home acquainted his master with the discovery he had made, who did not fail to let his father know it directly.

It is hard to say, whether joy at hearing of his son, or grief at hearing he was in so miserable a condition, was most predominant in him; but the first emotions of both being a little moderated, the consideration of what was to be done, took place:--the clerk having found out that he was lodged in an obscure house at that place, in order to get on board the first ship that sailed, the father would needs go himself, and the merchant offering to accompany him in their little journey, a plan of proceeding was formed between them, which was executed in the following manner.

They went together into a tavern, and sent to the house the clerk had directed, under pretence, that hearing a young man was there who had an inclination for the sea, a master of a ship would be glad to treat with him on that affair.--Natura, happily for him, not having yet an opportunity of engaging himself, obeyed the summons, and followed the messenger:--his father withdrew into another room, but so near as to hear what passed, and there was only the merchant to receive him; but the sight of one he so little expected in that place, and whom he knew was so intimate in their family, threw him into a most terrible consternation. He started back, and had certainly quitted the house, if the merchant, aware of his intention, had not catched hold of him, and getting between him and the door, compelled him to sit down while he talked to him.

He began with asking what had induced him to think of leaving England in the manner he was going to do;--reminded him of the estate to which he was born, the family from which he was descended, and the education which he had received; and then set before his eyes the tenderness with which his father had used him, the grief to which he had exposed him, and above all the madness of his present intentions:--Natura knew all this as well as he that remonstrated to him; but as he had not been capable of listening to his own reflections on that head, all that was said had not the least effect upon him, and the merchant could get no other answer from him, than that as things had happened, he had no other course to take.

The truth was, that as he could not imagine by what means the merchant was apprized of his design, he thought his father was also not ignorant of it; and as he did not vouchsafe either to come in person, or send any message to him from himself, and perhaps was even ignorant that the merchant had any intention of reclaiming him, he looked upon it as a confirmation of his having intirely thrown off all care of him, and in this supposition he became more resolute than ever in his mind, to go where he never might be heard of more.

'What though,' said the merchant, 'you have been guilty of some youthful extravagancies, I am perfectly assured there requires no more than your submitting to intreat forgiveness, to receive: come,' continued he, 'I will undertake to be your mediator, and dare answer I shall prevail.'--'No, sir,' replied Natura, 'I am conscious of having offended beyond all possibility of a pardon;--nor can I ever bear to see my father again.'

The merchant laboured all he could to overcome this mingled pride and shame, which he perceived was the only obstacle to his return to duty; but to no purpose, Natura continued obstinate and inflexible, till his father, having no longer patience to keep himself concealed, rushed into the room, and looking on his son with a countenance which, in spite of all the severity he had endeavoured to assume, betrayed only tenderness and grief.--'So, young man,' said he, 'you think it then my place to seek a reconciliation, and are perhaps too stubborn to accept forgiveness, even though I should condescend to offer it.'

Natura was so thunderstruck at the appearance of his father, and the manner in which he accosted him, that he was far from being able to speak one word, but threw himself at his feet, with a look which testified nothing but confusion: that action, however, denoting that he had not altogether forgot himself, melted the father's heart; he raised him, and forcing him to sit down in a chair close by him; 'Well, Natura,' said he, 'you have been disobedient to an excess; I wish it were possible for your distresses to have given you a remorse in proportion;--I am still a _father_, if you can be a _son._'--He would have proceeded, but was not able:--the meagre aspect, dejected air, and wretched appearance of a son so dear to him, threw him into a condition which destroyed all the power of maintaining that reserve which he thought necessary to his character.

Natura, on the other hand, was so overcome with the unhoped-for gentleness of his behaviour, that he burst into a flood of tears.--Filial gratitude and love, joined with the thoughts of what he had done to deserve a far different treatment, so overwhelmed his heart, that he could express himself no other way than by falling on his knees a second time, and embracing the legs of his father, with a transport, I know not whether to say of grief or joy; continued in that posture for a considerable time, overwhelmed at once with shame, with gratitude, and love:--at length, gaining the power of utterance,--'O sir,' cried he, 'how unworthy am I of your goodness!'--but then recollecting as it were somewhat more; 'yet sure,' pursued he, 'it is not possible you can forgive me all.--I have been guilty of worse than, perhaps, you yet have been informed of:--I am a wretch who have devoted myself to infamy and destruction, and you cannot, nay ought not to forgive me.'

The father was indeed very much alarmed at this expression, as fearing it imported his distresses had drove him to be guilty of some crime of which the law takes cognizance.--'I hope,' said he, 'your having signed a contract with an abandoned prostitute, is the worst action of your life?'

It is impossible to describe the pleasure with which Natura found his father was apprized of this affair, without being obliged to relate it himself, as he was now determined to have done:--all his obduracy being now intirely vanquished, and converted into the most tender, affectionate, and dutiful submission.

'Can there be a worse?' replied he, renewing his embraces, 'and can you know it, and yet vouchsafe to look on me as your son!'--'If your penitence be sincere,' said the good old gentleman, 'I neither can, nor ought refuse to pardon all:--but rise,' continued he, 'and freely give this worthy friend and myself, the satisfaction we require;--a full confession of all your misbehaviour, is the only attonement you can make, and that I can expect from you:--remember I have signed your pardon for all that is past, but shall not include in it any future acts of disobedience, among which, dissimulation, evasion or concealment, in what I demand to be laid open, I shall look upon as of the worst and most incorrigible kind.'

He needed not have laid so strong an injunction on the now truly contrite Natura;--he disguised nothing of what he had done, even to the mean arts of gaming, to which he had been obliged to have recourse after his voluntary banishment from all his friends; and then painted the horrors he conceived at the things he daily saw, and the despair which had induced him to leave England, in such lively colours, that not only his father, but the merchant, were affected by it, even to the letting fall some tears.

But not to be too tedious in this part of my narration, never was there a more perfect reconciliation:--the father till now knew not how much he loved his son, nor the son before felt half that dutiful affection and esteem for his father.