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THINGS AS THEY ARE;
...OR THE
Singular Adventures
OF
CALEB WILLIAMS.
By William Godwin.
Amidst the woods the leopard knows his kind;
The tyger prays not on the tyger brood :
Man only is the common foe of man.
i rom this story the Play of the Iron Chest, was taken.
Three Volumes in One.

Williams del. et sculpt.
Suall a rascal, that farms his forty acres, pretend to beard the
Lord of the Manor? I will tread you into paste! Let me advise
vou, scoundrel, to shut up your house, and fy as if the devil
28 behind you!"
Pogt 47.
I LONDON: 3 m
LARINTED and SOLD by s. FISHER, 13,-BARBICAN;
and may be had of all Bcoksellers.
1923.


THE NEW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRARY
ASTOR, LENOX AND
TILDEN FOUNDATIONS
R 1935 L


PREFACE.
The following narrative is intended to answer a
parpose more reneral and important than immediate-
ly appears upon the face of it. The question now
afloat in the world respecting THINGS AS THEY ARE,
is the most interesting that can be presented to the
human mind. While one party pleads for reforma-
tion and change, the other extols in the warmest
terms the existing constitution of society. It seemed
as if something would be gained for the decision of
tiis question, if that constitution were faithfully de-
veloped in its practical effects. What is now pre-
sented to the public is no refined and abstract specu-
lation; it is a study and delineation of things passing
in the moral world. It is but of late that the inesti-
mable importance of political principles has been
adequately apprehended. It is now known to philo-
sophers that the spirit and character of the govern.
ment intrudes itself into every rank of society. But
this is a truth highly worthy to be communicated to
persons whom books of philosophy and science are
never likely to reach. Accordingly it was proposed
in the invention of the following work, to compre-
hend, as far as the progressive nature of a single
story would allow, a general review of the modes of
domestic and unrecorded despotism, by which, man
becomes the destroyer of man. If the author shall
nave taught a valuable lesson, without snbtracting
from the interest and passion by which a performance
of this sort ought to be characterised, be will have
• reason to congratulate himself upon the vebicle he
kas chosen.
MAY 12, 1794
WAR 2011? 4.


PREFACE.
This préface was withdrawn in the original edition
in compliance with the alarms of booksellers. Caiei)
Williams made his first appearance in the world, is
the same month in which the sanguinary plot broke
out against the liberties of Englishmen, which was
happily terminated by the acquittal of its first intend.
ed victims, in the close of that year. Terror was ti.
order of the day; and it was feared that even the
humble novelist might be shewn to be constructively
a traitor.
OCTOBER 29, 1795.


ADVENTURES;
OF
CALEB WILLIAMS.
Vy life has for several years been a theatre of ca-
Inity. I have been a mark for the vigilance of ty-
it ay, and I could not escape. My fairest prospects
e been blasted. My enemy has shown himself
!cessible to intreaties and untired in persecution.
fame, as well as my happiness, has become his
je im. Every one, as far as my story has been
town, has refused to assist me in my distress, and
strated my name. I have not deserved this treat-
t: my own conscience witnesses in behalf of that
cence; my pretensions to which are regarded in
we world as incredible. There is now however little
hope that I shall escape from the toils that universal-
ly heset me. I am incited to the penning of these
nemoirs, only by a desire to divert my mind from the
leplorableness of my situation, and a faint idea that
posterity may by their means be induced to render
ne a justice which my contemporaries refuse. My
story will at least appear to have that consistency,
which is seldom attendant but on truth.
. I was born of humble parents in a remote county
of England ; their occupations were such as usually
fall to the lot of peasants, and they had no portion to.
give me, but an education free from the usual sour-
ces of depravity, and the inheritance, long since lost
by their unfortunate progeny! of an honest fame. I
was taught the rudiments of no science, except read.
ng, writing, and arithmetic. B't I had an inquisitive
mind, and neglected no means of information from
conversation or books. My improvement was geater
than my condition in life afforded room to expect.
There are other circumstances deserving to be
mentioned as having influenced the history of my fu.
tnre life. I was somewhat above the middle stature.
Without heing particularly athletic in appearance or
large in my dimensions, I was uncommonly vigorous
and active. My joints were supple, and I was form-
ed to excel in youthful sports. The habits of my mind
B


4
ADVENTURES OF
nowever were to a certain degree at war with the play
dictates of boyish vanity. I had considerable aver. Ja
sion to the boisterous gaiety of the village gallants,
and contrived to satisfy my love of praise with an un-
frequent apparition at their amusements. My excel-
lence in these respects however gave a turn to my
meditations. I delighted to read of feats of activity,
and was particularly interested by tales in which cor-
poreal ingenuity or strength are the means resorted to
for supplying resources and conquering difficulties. I
inured myself to mechanical pursuits, and devoted
much of my time to an endeavour after mechanical
invention.
The residence of my parents was within the manor
of Ferdinando Falkland, a country squire of consi-
derable opulence. At an early age I attracted the
favourable notice of Mr. Collins, this gentleman's
steward, who used to call in occasionally at my fa-
ther's. He observed the particulars of my progress
with approbation, and made a favourable report to
his master of my industry and genius.
In the summer of the year -, Mr. Falkland vi.
sited his estate in our county after an absence of se-
veral months. This was a period of misfortune to
me. I was then eighteen years of age. My father
Jay dead in our cottage. I had lost my mother some
years before. In this forlorn situation I was surprised
with a message from the squire, ordering me to re-
pair to the mansion-house the morning after my fa.
ther's funeral.
Though I was not a stranger to books, I had no
practical acquaintance with men I had never had
occasion to address a person of this elevated rank,
and I felt no small uneasiness and awe on the present
occasion. I found Mr. Falkland a man of small sta-
tare, with an extreme delicacy of form and appear-
ance. In place of the hard-favoured and inflexible
visages I had been accustomed to observe, every
muscle and petty line of his countenance seemed to
be in an inconceivable degree pregnant with mean-
ing. His manner was kind, attentive, and humane.
His eye was full of animation, but there was a grave
and sad solemnity in his air, which for want of ex:
perience I imagined was the inheritance of the great,
and the instrument hy which the distance between
them and their inferiors was maintained. His look,
bespoke the unquietness of his mind, and frequently
G


CALEB WILLIAMS.
wandered with an expression of disconsolateness and
anxiety. My reception was as gracious and encoura-
ging as I could possibly desire. Mr. Falkland ques-
tioned me respecting my learning, and my concep-
tions of men and things, and listened to my answers
with condescension and approbation. This kindness
soon restored to me a considerable part of my self-
possession, though I still felt restrained by the grace-
fal, brt analtered dignity of his carriage. I have al.
ready said that I was not unacquainted with books.
I had not failed to derive advantage from the oppor-
tunities which offered themselves, and some of those
opportunities were of very fortunate occurrence. But
it is not my purpose to draw out this narrative by un-
necessary detail ; I leave the reader to collect what
my acquisitions had been, from the incidents which
followed. When Mr. Falkland had sufficiently sa-
tisfied his curiosity, he proceeded to inform me that
he was in want of a secretary, that I appeared to
him sufficiently qualified for that office, and that,
if, in my present change of situation, occasioned by
the death of my father, I approved of the employ-
ment, he would take me into his family.
I felt highly flattered by the proposal, and was
warm in the expression of my acknowledgements.
I set eagerly about the disposal of the little property
my father had left, in v:hich I was assisted by Mr.
Collins. I had not now a relation in the world, upon
whose kindness and interpusition I had any direct
claim. But, far from regarding this deserted situa-
ton with terror, I formed golden visions of the sta-
ton I was about to oočapy. I little suspected, that
the gaiety and lightness of heart I had hitherto en-
joved were upon the point of leaving me for ever,
and that the rest of my days were devoted to misery
and alarm.
..My employment was easy and agreeable. It con-
sisted partly of the transcribing and arranging cer-
tain papers, and partly of writing from my niester's
dictation letters of business, as well as sketches of
literary composition. Many of these lutter consisted
of an analytical survey of the plans of different au-
thors, and conjectural speculations upon hints they
afforded, tending either to the detection of their er-
rors or the carrying forward their discoveries. All
of them bore powerful marks of a profound and ele.
gant mind, well stored with literature, and pogo'


6
ADVENTURES OF
sessed of an uncommon share of activity and dis-
crimination.
My station was in that part of the house which was
appropriated for the reception of books, it being my
duty to perform the functions of librarian as well as
secretary. Here my hours would have glided in tran-
quillity and peace, had not my situation included in
it circumstances totally different from those which at-
tended me in my father's cottage. In early life my
mind had been much engrossed by reading and re-
flection. My intercourse with my fellow mortals was
occasional and short. But in my new residence I was
excited by every motive of interest and curiosity to
study my master's character, and I found in it an am-
ple field for speculation and conjecture.
His mode of living was in the utmost degree recluse
and solitary. He had no inclination to scenes of re-
velry and mirth. He avoided the busy haunts of
men; nor did he seem desirous to compensate for
this privation by the confidence of friendship. He
appeared a total stranger to everything which
usually bears the appellation of pleasure. His fea-
tures were scarcely ever relaxed into a smile, nor
did that air which bespoke the unhappiness of his
mind, at any time forsake them. Yet his manners
were by no means such as denoted moroseness and
misanthropy. He was compassionate and considerate
for others, though the stateliness of his carriage and
the reserve of his temper were at no time interrupted.
His appearance and general behaviour toight have
strongly interested all persons in his favour ; but the
coldness of his address, and the impenetrableness of
his sentiments, seemed to forbid those demonstrations
of kindness to which one might otherwise have been
prompted.
Suich was the general appearance of Mr. Falkland;
but his temper was extremely unequal. The distem-
per which afflicted him with incessant gloom, had its
paroxysms. Sometimes he was hasty, peavish and
tyrannical; but this proceeded rather from the tor-
ment of his mind than an unfeeling disposition, and,
when reflection recurred, he appeared willing that
the weight of his misfortune should fall wholly upon
himself. Sometimes he entirely lost his self-posses-
sion, and his behaviour was changed into frenzy. He
would strike his forehead, his brow became knit,
kis features distorted, and his teeth ground one against


CALEB WILLIAMS.
the other. When he felt the approach of these symp-
toms, he would suddenly rise, and, leaving the oc-
cupation, whatever it was, in which he was engaged,
hasten into a solitude apon which no person dared
to intrude.
It must not be supposed that the whole of what I
am describing was visible to the persons about him;
nor indeed was I acquainted with it in the extent here
stated, but after a considerable time, and in gradual
snccession. With respect to the domestics in gene.
ral, they saw but little of their master. None of
them, except myself from the nature of my functions,
and Mr. Collins from the antiquity of his service and
the respectableness of his character, approached Mr.
Falkland, but at stated seasons and for a very short
interval. They knew him only by the benevolence
of his actions, and the principles of inflexible inte-
grity by which he was ordinarily guided; and, though
they would sometimes indulge their conjectures re-
specting his singularities, they regarded him upon
the whole with veneration, as a being of a superior
order.
One day, when I had been about three months in
the service of my patron, I went to a closet, or small
apartment, which was separated from the library by
a narrow gallery that was lighted by a small window
near the roof. I had conceived that there was no
person in the room, and intended only to put any
thing in order that I might find out of its place. As
I opened the door, I heard at the same instant a deep
groan expressive of intolerable anguish. The sound
of the door in opening seemed to alarm the person
within ; I heard the lid of a trunk hastily shut, and
the noise as of fastening a lock. I conceived that
Mr. Falkland was there, and was going instantly to
retire ; but at that moment a voice that seemed super-
naturally tremendous, exclaimed, Who is there? The
voice was Mr. Falkland's. The sound of it thrilled
my very vitals. I endeavoured to answer, but my
speech failed, and being incapable of any other re-
ply. I instinctively advanced within the door into the
room. Mr. Falkland was just risen from the floor
upon which he had been sitting or kneeling. His
face betrayed strong symptoms of confusion. With
a violent effort however, these symptoms vanished,
and instantaneously gave place to a countenance
sparkling with rage. "Villain! cried be, what has


ADVENTURES OF
brought you here ? I hesitated a confused and irrego.
lute answer. Wretch! interrupted Mr. Falkland is
with uncontrolable impatience, you want to ruin me.
You set yourself as a spy upon my actions. But bit-
terly shall you repent your insolence. Do you think
you shall watch my privacies with impunity? I at-
tempted to defend myself. Begone, devil ! rejoined
he. Quit the room, or I will trample you into atoms.
Saying this, he advanced towards me But I was
already sufficiently terrified, and vanished in a mo-
ment. I heard the door shut after me with violence
and thus ended this extraordinary scene. .
I saw him again in the evening, and he was then
tolerably composed. His behaviour, which was al-
ways kind, was now doubly attentive and soothing
He seemed to have something of which he wished to
disburthen his mind, but to want words in which ta
convey it. I looked at him with anxiety and affec.
tion. He made two unsuccessful efforts, shook his
head, and then, putting tive guineas into my hand,
pressed it in a manner that I could feel proceeded
from a mind pregnant with various emotions, though
I could not interpret them. Having done this, he.
seemed immediately to recollect himself, and to take
refuge in the usual distance and solemnity of his
manner.
I easily understood that secrecy was one of thc
things expected from me, and indeed my mind was
too much disposed to meditate upon what I had heard
and seen, to make it a topic of indiscriminate com-
munication. Mr. Collins however and myself hap-
pened to snp together that evening, which was but
seldom the case, his avocations obliging him to he
much abroad. He could not help observing an on-
common dejection and anxiety in my countenance,
and affectionately enquired into the reason. I endea-
voured to evade his questions, but my youth and ig.
norance of the world gave me little advantage for that
purpose. Beside this, I had been accustomed to view
Mr. Collins with considerable attachment, and I con-
ceived from the nature of his situation that there could
be small impropriety in making him my confident in
the present instance. I repeated to him minutely
every thing that had passed, and concluded with a
solemn declaration that, though treated with caprice,
I was not anxious for myself: no inconvenience or
danger should ever lead me to a pusillanimous beha-


ALEB WILLIAMS.
viour; and I felt only for my master, who, with every
advantage for happiness, and being in the highest de-
gree worthy of it, seemed destined to undergo un-
merited distress.
In answer to my communication Mr. Collins in-
formed me that some incidents, of a nature similar to
that which I related, had fallen under his own know-
ledge, and that from the whole he could not help
concluding that our unfortunate patron was at times
disordered in his intellects. Alas, continued he, it
was not always thus ! Ferdinando Falkland was once
the gayest of the gay. Not indeed of that frothy
sort, who excite contempt instead of admiration, and
whose levity argues thoughtlessness rather than feli-
city. His gaiety was always accompanied with dig-
nity. It was the gaiety of the hero and the scholar.
It was chastened with reflection and sensibility, and
never lost sight either of good taste or humanity.
Such as it was however, it denoted a genuine hilarity
of heart, imparted an inconceivable brilliancy to his
company and conversation, and rendered him the
perpetual delight of the diversified circles he then
willingly frequented. You see nothing of him, my
dear Williams, but the ruin of that Falkland who
was courted by sages, and adored by the fair. His
youth, distinguished in its outset by the most unusual
promise, is tarnished. His sensibility is shrunk up
and withered by events the most disgustful to his feel-
ings. His mind was franght with all the rhapsodies
of visionary honour; and, in his sense, nothing but
the grosser part, the mere shell of Falkland, was
capable of surviving the wound that his pride has
sustained.
These reflections of my friend Collins strongly
tended to inflame my curiosity, and I requested him
to enter into a more copious explanation. With this
request he readily complied; as conceiving that, what-
ever delicacy it became him to exercise in ordinary
cases, it would be out of place in my situation; and
thinking it not improbable that Mr. Falkland, but
for the disturbance and inflammation of his mind,
would be disposed to a similar communication. I
shall interweave with Mr. Collins's story, various in-
formation which I afterwards received from other
quarters, that I may give all possible perspicuity to
the series of events. To the reader it may appear
at first sight as if this detail of the preceding life of
.


10
ADVENTURES OF
Mr. Falkland were foreign to my history. Alas, I
know froin bitter experience that it is otherwise. My You
heart bleeds at the recollection of his misfortunes as 9,
if they were my own. How can it fail to do so? To 1
his story the whole fortune of my life was linked;
because he was miserable, my happiness, my name,
and my existence have been irretrievably blasted.
Among the favorite authors of his early years were
the heroic poets of Italy. From themi he imbibed
the love of chivalry and romance. He had too much
good sense to regret the times of Charlemagne and
Arthur. But, while his imagination was purged by a
certain infusion of philosophy, he conceived that
there was in the manners depicted by these celebrated
poets, something to imitate, as well as something to
avoid. He believed that nothing was so well calcu-
lated to make men delicate, gallant and humane, as
a temper perpetually alive to the sentiments of birth
and honour. The opinions he entertained upon these
topics were illustrated in his conduct, which was as-
sidiously conformed to the model of heroism that his
fancy suggested.
* With these sentiments he set out upon bis travels
at the age at which the grand tour is usually made,
and they were rather confirmed than shaken by the
adventures that befel him. By inclination he was
led to make his longest stay in Italy, and here he
fell into company with several young nobleman whose
studies and p:inciples were congenial to his own. By
them he was assiduously courted and treated with
the most distinguished applause. They were delight-
ed to meet with a foreigner, who had imbibed all the
peculiarites of the most liberal and honourable among
themselves. Nor was he less favonred and admired
by the softer sex. Though his stature was small, his
person had an air of uncommon dignity. His dignity
was then heightened by certain additions which were
afterwards obliterated, an expression of frankness,
ingenuity and unreserve, and a spirit of the most ar-
dent enthusiasm. Perhaps no Englishman was ever
in an equal degree idolised by the inhabitants of
Italy.
It was not possible for him to have drunk so deeply
of the fountain of chivalry, without being engaged
occasionally in affairs of honour, all of which were
terminated in a manner that would not have disgra-
ced the chevalier Bayard himself. In Italy the young


CALEB WILLIAMS.
11
jnen of rank divide themselves into two classes, those
who adhere to the pure principles of ancient gallant-
ry, and those who, being actuated by the same acute
sense of injury and insult, accustom themselves to
the employment of hired bravoes as their instruments
of vengeance. The whole difference indeed consists
in the precarious application of a generally received
listinction. The most generous Italian conceives,
hat there are certain persons whom it would be con-
i nination for him to call into the open field. He ne-
ertheless believes that an indignity cannot be expi-
ted but with blood, and is persuaded that the life of
man is a trifling consideration, in comparison of
le indemnification to be made to his injured honour.
aere is therefore scarcely any Italian that would
on some occasions scruple assassination. Men of
pirit among them, notwithstanding the prejudices of
heir education, cannot fail to have a secret convic-
ion of its baseness, and will be desirous of extend-
ng as far as possible the cartel of honour. Real or
affected arrogance teaches others to regard almost the
whole species as their inferiors, and of consequence
incites them to gratify their vengeance without dan-
ger to their persons. Mr. Falkland fell in with some
of these. But bis undaunted spirit and resolute tem-
per gave him a decisive advantage even in such pe-
rilous rencounters. One instance among many of his
manner of conducting himself among this proud and
high-spirited people, it may be proper to relate. Mr.
Falkland is the principal agent in my history; and
Mr. Falkland, in the autumn and decay of his vigour
such as I found him, cannot be completely understood,
without a knowledge of his previous character, as it
was in all the gloss of youth, yet unassailed by ad.
versity, and unbroken in upon by anguish or remorse.
At Rome he was received with particular distinc-
tion at the house of Marquis Pisani, who had an only
daughter, the heir of his immense fortune, and the
admiration of all the young nobility of that metropo-
lis. Lady Lucretia Pisani was tall, of a dignified
form and uncommonly beautiful. She was not defi-
cient in amiable qualities, but her soul was haughty,
and her carriage not unfrequently contemptuous. Her
pride was nourished by the consciousness of her
charms, hy her elevated rank and the universal ado.
ration she was accustomed to receive.
• Among her numerous lovers count Malvesi was the


12
ADVENTURES OF
individual most favoured by her father, nor did his
addresses seem indifferent to her. The count was a
men of considerable accomplishments, and of great
integrity and benevolence of disposition. But he wa
too ardent a lover to be able always to preserve th
affability of his temper. The admirers, whose ar
dresses were a source of gratification to his mistres -
were a perpetual uneasiness to him. Placing his
whole happiness in the possession of this imperiour
beauty, the most trifling circumstances were capable
of alarming him for the security of his pretensions
But most of all he was jealous of the English cava-
lier. Marquis Pisani, who had spent many years in
France, was by no means partial to the suspicione
precautions of Italian fathers, and indulged his daugh
ter in considerable freedoms. His house and Luiz
daughter, within certain judicious restraints, were
open to the resort of male visitants. But above all
Mr. Falk land, as a foreigner, and a person little
likely to form pretensions to the hand of Lucretia,
was received upon a footing of great familiarity. Thi
lady herself, conscious of innocence, entertained i
no scruple about trifles, and acted with the con !
fidence and frankness of one who is superior .
suspicion.
Mr. Falkland, after a residence of several weeks
at Rome, proceeded to Naples. Meanwhile certi i
incidents occurred that delayed the intended nupti i
of the heiress of Pisani. When he returned to ROY
count Malvesi was absent. Lady Lucretia, v 'n
had been considerably amused before with the cor
versation of Mr. Falkland, and who had an active
and enquiring mind, had conceived, in the intervall
between his first and second residence at Rome, ai
desire to be acquainted with the English language,
inspired by the lively and ardent encomiums of our
best authors that she had heard from their country.
man. She had provided herself with the usual mate
rials for that purpose, and had made some progress
during his absence. But upon his return she was for-
ward to make use of the opportunity, which, if missed
might never occur again with equal advantage, o.
reading select passages of our poets with an English
man of uncommon taste and capacity.
This proposal necessarily led to a more frequent
intercourse. When count Malvesi returned, t
found Mr. Falkland established almost as an inmatr


CALEB WILLIAMS.
13
of the Pisani palace. His mind could not fail to be
Struck with the criticalness of the situation. He was
Perhaps secretly conscious that the qualifications of
the Englishman were superior to his own, and be
trembled for the progress that each party might have
made in the affection of the other, even before they
were aware of the danger. He believed that the
match was in every respect such as to flatter the am-
bition of Mr. Falkland, and he was stung even to
madness by the idea of being deprived of the object
dearest to his beart by this tramontane upstart.
He had however a sufficient share of discretion to
go first to demand an explanation of Lady Lucretia.
She, in the gaiety of her heart, trified with his
anxiety. His patience was already exhausted, and
he proceeded in his expostulation in language that
she was by no means prepared to endure with apathy.
Lady Lucretia had always been accustomed to defer-
ence and submission; and, having got over something
like terror that was at first inspired by the imperious
manner in which she was now catechised, her next
feeling was that of the warmest resentment. She
disdained to satisfy so insolent a questioner, and even
indulged herself in certain obliane hints calculated to
strengthen his supicions. For some time she descri.
bed his folly and presumption in terms of the most
ladicrous sarcasm, and then, suddenly changing her
style, bid him never let her see him more except
upon a footing of the most distant acquaintance, as
she was determined never again to subject herself to
so gnworthy a treatment. She was happy that he
had at length disclosed to her his true character, and
would know how to profit of her present experience
to avoid a repetition of the same danger. All this
passed in the full career of passion on hoth sides,
and lady Lucretia had no time to reflect upon what
might be the consequence of thus exasperating
her lover.
Connt Malvesi left her in all the torments of fren-
zy. He believed that this was a premeditated scene,
to find a pretence for breaking off an engagement that
was already all hut concluded; or rather his mind
was racked with a thousand conjectures; he alter-
nately thought that the injustice might be hers or his
own; and he qnarrelled with lady Lucretia, himself
and the whole world. In this temper he hastened to
the hotel of the English cavalier. The season of ex-
D


14
ADVENTURES OF
postulation was now over, and he found himself ir.
resistibly impelled to justify his precipitation with the
lady, by taking for granted that the subject of his
suspicion was beyond the reach of doubt.
Mr. Falkland was at home. The first words of the
count were, an abrupt accusation of duplicity in the
affair of lady Lucretia, and a challenge. The En-
glisbman had an unaffected esteem for Malvesi, who
was in reality a man of considerable merit, and who
had been one of Mr. Falkland's earliest Italian ac.
quaintance, they having originally met at Milan. But
more than this, the possible consequence of a duel
in the present instance burst upon his mind. He had
the warmest admiration for lady Lucretia, though his
feelings were not those of a lover: and he knew that
however her haughtiness might endeavour to disguise
it, she was impressed with a tender regard for count
Malvesi. He could not bear to think that any mis-
conduct of his should interrupt the prospects of so
deserving a pair. Guided by these sentiments, he
endeavoared to expostulate with the Italian. But
his attempts were ineffectual. His antagonist was
drunk with choler, and would not listen to a word
that'tended to check the impetnosity of his thoughts.
He traversed the room with perturbed steps, and even
foamed with anguish and fury. Mr. Falkland, find-
ing that it was all to no purpose, told the count that
if he would return to-morrow at the same hour, he
would attend him to any scene of action he should
think proper to select.
From count Malvesi Mr. Falkland immediately pro-
ceeded to the palace of Pisani. Here he found con-
siderable difficulty in appeasing the indignation of
lady Lucretia. His ideas of honour would by no
means allow him to wiu her to his purpose by disclo-
sing the cartel he had received, though he was se-
cretly determined never to draw his sword in the pre-
sent quarrel; otherwise that disclosure would imme-
diately have operated as the strongest motive with
this disdainful beauty. But, though she dreaded
such an event, the vague apprehension was not strong
enough to induce her instantly to surrender all the
stateliness of her resentment. Mr. Falkland how-
ever drew so interesting a picture of the disturbance
of count Malvesi's mind, and accounted in so flatter-
ing a manner for the abruptness of his conduct, that
this, together with the arguments he adduced, com-


CALEB WILLIAMS.
15
pleted the conquest of lady Lucretia's resentment.
Having thus far accomplished his purpose, he pro-
ceeded to disclose to her every thing that had passed.
The next day count Malvesi apppeared, punctual
to his appointment, at Mr. Falkland's hotel. Mr.
Falkland came to the door to receive him, but re-
quested him to enter the house for a moment, as he
had still an affair of three minutes to dispatch. They
proceeded to a parlour. Here Mr. Falkland left him,
and presently returned leading in lady Lucretia her-
self, adorned in all her charms, and those charms
heightened upon the present occasion by a conscious-
ness of the spirited and generous condescension she
was pow exerting. Mr. Falkland led her up to the
astor
ed count: and she, gently laying
r hand
apon the arm of her lover, exclaimed with the most
attractive grace, Will you allow me to retract the
precipitate haughtiness into which I was betrayed?
The enraptured count, scarcely able to believe his
senses, threw himself upon his knees before her,
and stammered out a reply, signifying that the pre-
cipitation had been all his own, that he only had any
forgiveness to demand, and, though they might par-
don, he could never pardon himself for the sacrilege
he had committed against her and this godlike En-
glishman As soon as the first tomults of his joy
had subsided, Mr. Falkland addressed him thos:
“Connt Malvesi, I feel the utmost pleasure in hav-
ing thus by peaceful means disarmed your resent-
ment, and effected your happiness. But I must con-
fess you put me to a severe tria). My temper is not
less impestuous and fiery than your own, and it is not
ai all times that I should have been thus able to sub-
dye it. Bnt I considered that in reality the original
blame was mine. Though your suspicion was ground.
less, it was not absurd. We have been triffing too
much in the face of danger. I ought not, under the
present weakness of our nature and forms of society,
to have been so assidnous in my attendance upon this
enchanting woman. It would have been little won-
der, if, having so many opportunities, and playing
the preceptor with her as I have done, I had been
entangled before I was aware, and harboured a wish
which I might not afterwards have had courage
to subdue. I owed you an atonement for this im.
pradence.
“But the laws of honour are in the utmost degree


16 - ADVENTURES OF
rigid, and there was reason to fear that, however
anxious I were to be your friend, I might be obliged
to be your murderer. Fortunately the reputation of
my courage is sufficiently established, not to expose
it to any impeachment by my declining your present
defiance. It was lucky however that in our interview
of yesterday you found me alone, and that accident
hy that means threw the management of the affair
into my disposal. If the transaction should become
known, the conclusion will now become known along
with the provocation, and I am satisfied. But, it
the challenge had been public, the proofs I had for-
merly given of courage would not have excused my
present moderation; and, though desirous to have
avoided the combat, it would not have been in my
power. Let us hence each of us learn to avoid haste
and indiscretion, the consequences of which may b.
inexpiable but with blood; and may heaven bles
you in a consort of whom I deem you every way
worthy!"
I have already said that this was by no means the
only instance in the course of his travels, in which
Mr. Falkland acquitted himself in the most brilliar.
manner as a man of gallantry and virtue. He conti-
nued abroad during several years, every one of
which brought some fresh accession to the estimation
in which he was held, as well as to his own impa.
tience of stain or dishonour. At length he thought
proper to return to England, with the intention ci
spending the rest of his days at the residence of his
ancestors
From the moment he entered upon the execution o
this purpose, dictated as it probably was by an una: -
tected principle of duty, his misfortunes took their
commencement. All I have further to state of his
history is the uninterrupted persecution of a malig-
nant destiny, a series of adventures that seemed to
take their rise in various accidents, but pointed to:
one termination. Him they overwhelmed with an
anguish he was of all others least qualified to bear;
and these waters of bitterness, extending beyond
him, poured their deadly venom upon others, I
being myself the most unfortunate of their victims.
The person in whom these calamities originated,
was Mr. Falkland's nearest neighbour, a man of es-
tate equal to his own, by name, Barnabas Tyrre!.
This man, one might at first have supposed of all


CALEB WILLIAMS.
17
others least qualified from instruction, or inclined by
the habits of his life, to disturb the enjoyments of a
mind so richly endowed as that of Mr. Falkland.
Mr. Tyrrel might have passed for a true model of
the English squire. He was early left under the tu-
ition of his mother, a woman of narrow capacity,
and who had no other child. The only remaining
member of the family it may be necessary to notice,
was Miss Emily Melville, the orphan daughter of
Mr. Tyrrel's paternal aunt; who now resided in the
family mansion, and was wholly dependent on the
benevolence of its proprietors. Mrs. Tyrrel ap-
peared to think that there was nothing in the world
so precious, as her hopeful Barnabas. Every thing
must give way to his accommodation and advantage ;
every one must yield the most servile obedience to
his commands. He must not be teased or restricted
by any forms of instruction; and of consequence his
proficiency, even in the arts of writing and reading,
was extremely slender. From his birth he was mus.
cular and sturdy; and, confined to the ruelle of his
mother, he made much such a figure as the whelp-
lion that a barbarian might have given for a lap-dog to
his mistress.
But he soon broke loose from these trammels, and
formed an acquaintance with the groom and the
game-keeper. Under their instruction he proved as
ready a scholar, as he had been indocile and restive
to the pedant who held the office of his tutor. It was
now evident that his small proficiency in literature
was by no means to be ascribed to want of capacity.
He discovered no contemptible sagacity and quick-
wittedness in the science of horse-flesh, and was
eminently expert in the arts of shooting, fishing and
hunting. Nor did he confine himself to these, but
added the theory and practice of boxing, cudgel-play
and quarter-staff. These exercises added tenfold
robustness and vigour to his former qualifications..
· His stature, when grown, was somewhat more than
six feet, and his form might have been selected by a
painter as a model for that hero of antiquity, whose
prowess consisted in felling an ox with his fist, and
devouring him at a meal. Conscious of his advan-
tage in this respect, he was insupportably arrogant,
tyrannical to his inferiors, and insolent to his equals.
The activity of his mind being diverted from the
genuine field of utility and distinction, shewed itself


18
ADVENTURES OF
in the rade tricks of an overgrown lubber. Here, as i
in all his other qualifications, he rose above his com i
petitors; and it it had been possible to overlook the
callous and unrelenting disposition which they mani-
fested, one could scarcely have denied his applause
to the invention these freaks displayed, and the
rough, sarcastic wit with which they were accompa-
nied.
Mr Tyrrel was by no means inclined to permit
these extraordinary merits to rust in oblivion. There
was a weekly assembly at the nearest market-town,
the resort of all the rural gentry. Here he had hithers
to figured to the greatest advantage, as grand master
of the coterie, no one having an equal share of opu-
lence, and the majority, though still pretending to the
rank of gentry, greatly his inferiors in this essential
article. The young men in this circle looked up to
this insolent bashaw with timid respect, conscious of
the comparative eminence that unquestionably belong-
ed to the powers of his mind; and he well knew how
to maintain his rank with an inflexible hand. Fre-
quently indeed he relaxed his features, and assumed
a temporary appearance of affableness and familiarity;
but they found by experience, that, if any one, encon-
raged by his condescension, forgot the deference
which Mr. Tyrrel considered as his due, he was soon
taught to repent bis presumption. It was a tyger that
thought proper to toy with a nouse, the little animal
every moment in danger of being crushed by the fangs
of his ferocious associate. As Mr. Tyrrel had con-
siderable copiousness of speech, and a rich, but un.
disciplined, imagination, he was always sure of an
audience. His neighbours crowded round, and join-
ed in the ready laugh, partly from obsequionsness,
and partly from anfeigned admiration. It frequently
happened however that, in the midst of his good hu-
mour, a characteristic refinement of tyranny would
suggest itself to his mind. When his subjects, en-
couraged by his familiarity, had discarded their pre-
caution, the wayward fit would sieze him, a sudden
cloud overspread his brow, his voice transform from
the pleasant to the terrible, and a quarrel of a straw
• immediately ensue with the first man whose face he
did not like. The pleasure that resulted to others
from the exuberant sallies of his imagination was
therefore not unalloyed with sudden qualnıs of appre-
hension and terror. It may be believed that this des


CALEB WILLIAMS.
19
potism did not gain its final ascendancy withont being
- a contested in the outset. But all opposition was qnel-
led with a high hand by this rural Antæus. By the
ascendancy of his fortune, and his character among
I' his neighbours, he always reduced his adversary to
the necessity of encountering bim at his own weapons,
and did not dismiss him without making him feel his
*presumption through every joint in his frame. The
tyranny of Mr, Tyrrel would not have been so patient-
Fly endured, had not his coloquial accomplishments
perpetually come in aid of that authority which his
rank and prowess originally obtained.
The situation of our synire with the fair, was still
more enviable than that which he maintained among
persons of his own sex. Every mother taught her
daughter to consider the hand of Mr. Tyrrel as the
highest object of her ambition. Every daughter re-
garded his athletic form and his acknowledged prow.
ess with a favorable eye. As no man was adventurous
enough to contest his superiority, so scarcely any wo.
man in this provincial circle would have scrupled to
preter his addresses to those of any other admirer.
His boisterous wit had pfculiar charms for them; and
here was no spectacle more flattering to their vanity
han the seeing this Hercules exchange his club for a
listatt. It was pleasing to them to consider that the
angs of this wild beast, the very idea of which in-
spired trepidation into the holdest hearts, might be
layed with by them with the utmost security.
Sach was the rival that fortune in her caprice had
reserved for the accomplished Falkland. This un.
amed, though not andiscerning, brute, was found ca-
able of destroying the prospects of a man, the most
minently qualified to enjoy and to communicate hap-
iness. The feud that sprung up between them was
ourished by concurring circumstances, till it attain-
da magnitude difficult to be paralleled; and because
hey regarded each other with a deadly hatred, I have
recome an object of misery and abhorrence.
The arrival of Mr. Falkland gave an alarming shock
to the authority of Mr. Tyrrel in the village assembly,
nd in all scenes of indiscriminate resort. His dis-
Position by no means inclined him to withhold him-
elf from scenes of fashionable amusement; and he
nd his competitor were like two stars fated
lever to appear at once above the horizon. The
dvantages Mr. Falkland possessed in the compari-
on are palpable; and, had it been otherwise, the


20
ADVENTURES OF
subjects of his rural neighbour were sufficiently diso!
posed to revolt against his mercyless dominion. They
had hitherto submitted from fear, and not from love;
and, if they had not rebelled, it was only for want of
a leader. Even the ladies regarded Mr. Falkland
with particular complaisance. His polished manners
were peculiarly in harmony with feminine delicacy.
The sallies of his wit were far beyond those of Mr.
Tyrrel in variety and vigour; in addition to which
they had the advantage of having their spontaneous
exuberance guided and restrained by the sagacity of
a cultivated mind. The graces of his person were
enhanced by the elegance of his deportment; and
the benevolence and liberality of his temper were op-
on all occasions conspicuous. It was common indeed
to Mr. Tyrrel, together with Mr. Falkland, to be little
accessible to sentiments of awkwardness and confu-
sion. But for this Mr. Tyrrel was indebted to a self-
satisfied effrontery and a boisterous and overhearing
elocution by which he was accustomed to discomfit
his assailants; while Mr. Falkland with great inge.
nuity and candour of mind, was enabled, by his ex-
tensive knowledge of the world and acquaintance
with his own resources, to perceive almost instanta-
neously the proceeding it most became him to adopt.
Mr. Tyrrel contemplated the progress of his rival,
with uneasiness and aversion. He often commented
upon it to his particular confidents as a thing alto.
gether inconceivable. Mr. Falkland he described as
an animal that was beneath contempt. Diminutive
and dwarfish in his form, he wanted to set up a new
standard of human nature adapted to his miserable
condition. He wished to persuade people that the
human species were made to be nailed to a chair, and
to pore nver books. He would have them exchange
those robust exercises which make us joyous in the
performance and vigourous in the consequences, for
the wise labour of scratching our heads for a rhyme
and counting our fingers for a verse. Monkeys were
as good men as these. A nation of such animals
would have no chance with a single regiment of the i
old English votaries of beef and pudding. He never
saw any thing come of learning, but to make people
foppish and impertinent; and a sensible man would
not wish a worse calamity to the enemies of his na-
tion, than to see them run mad after such pernicious
absurdities. It was impossible that people could se-


CALEB WILLIAMS.
If such were thged upon them allintly, if he were
a
riously feel any liking for such a ridiculous piece of
goods as this outlandish, foreign made Englishman.
But he knew very well how it was : it was a miser
able piece of mummery that was played only in spite
to him. But he swore most vehemently, if he were
not bitterly revenged upon them all!
If such were the sentiments of Mr. Tyrrel, his pa.
tience found ample exercise in the language which
was held by the rest of his neighbours on the same
subject. While he saw nothing in Mr. Falkland but
matter for contempt, they appeared to be never wea-
ry of recounting his praises. Such dignity, such affa-
bility, so perpetual an attention to the happiness of
others, such delicacy of sentiment and expression !
Learned without ostentation, refined without foppery,
elegant without effemiracy! Perpetually anxious to
prevent his superiority from being painſully felt, it
was felt so much the more certainly, and excited con-
gratulation instead of envy in the spectator. It is
scarcely necessary to remark, that the revolution of
sentiment in this rural vicinity, belongs to one of the
most obvious features of the human mind. The rud-
est exhibition of art is at first admired; till a nobler
is presented, and we are taught to wonder at the fa-
cility with which before we had been satisfied. Mr
Tyrrel thought there would be po end to the commen-
dation; and expected when their common acquaint-
ance would fall down and adore the intruder.' The
most inadvertent expression of applause inflicted up-
on him the torment of demons. He writhed with
agony, his features became distorted, and his looks
inspired terror. Such suffering would probably have
soured the kindest temper ; what must have been its
effect upon Mr. Tyrrel's, always fierce, anrelenting
and abrupt?
The advantages of Mr. Falkland seemed by no
means to diminish with their novelty. Every new
sufferer from Mr. Tyrrel's tyranny immediately went :
over to the standard of his adversary. The ladies,
though treated by their rustic swain with more gen-
tleness than the men, were occasionally exposed to
his capricionsness and insolence. They could not
help remarking the contrast between these two lead-
ers in the fields of Venus, the one of whom paid no
attention to any one's pleasure but his own, wbile
the other seemed all good bumonir and benevolence.
It was in vain that Mr. Tyrrel endeavoured to re-
u


ADVENTURES OF
strain the ruggedness of his character. His motive
was impatience, his thoughts were gloomy, and h14
courtship was like the pawings of an elephant. It
appeared as if his temper had been more humars
while he indulged it in its free bent, than now that
he sullenly endeavoured to put fetters upon its
excesses.
Among the ladies of the village-assembly already
mentioned, there was none that seemed to engage
more of the kindness of Mr. 'Tyrrel than Miss Har-
dingham. She was also one of the few that had not
yet gone over to the enemy, either because she
really preferred the gentleman who was her oldest
acquaintance, or that she conceived from calcula-
tion this conduct best adapted to insure her success
in a husband. One day, however, she thought pro-
per, probably only by way of experiment, to show
Mr. Tyrrel that she could engage in hostilities, if he
should at any time give her sufficient provocatio.
She so adjusted her manoeuvres, as to be engaged bry
Mr. Falkland as his partner for the dance of the
evening, though without the smallest intention on
the part of that gentleman, who was unpardonably
deficient in the sciences of anecdote and match-
making, of giving offence to his country neighbour.
Though the manners of Mr. Falkland 'were conde-
scending and attentive, his hours of retirement
were principally occupied in contemplations too dig.
nified for scandal, and too large for the altercations
of a vestry, or the politics of an election-borough.
A short time before the dances began, Mr.
Tyrrel went up to his fair inamorata, and enter
into some trifling conversation with her to fill up the
time, as intending, in a few minutes to lead her for-
ward to the field. He had accustomed himself to
neglect the ceremony of soliciting beforehand a pro.
mise in his favour, as not supposing it possible that
any one would dare to dispute his behests; and,
had it been otherwise, he would have thought the
formality unnecessary in this case, his general pre-
ference to Miss Hardingham being notorinus.
While he was thus engaged, Mr. Falkland came
up. Mr. 'Tyrrel always regarded him with avers on
and loathing. Mr. Falkland, however, slided in a
graceful and unaffected manner into the conversation
already begun, and the animated ingennou mess of
his manner was such, as might for the time have


CALEB WILLIAMS.
23
disarmed the devil of his malice. Mr. Tyrrel pro-
bably conceived that his accosting Miss Hardingham
was an accidental piece of general ceremony, and
expected every moment when he would withdraw
to another part of the room.
The company now began to be in motion for the
dance, and Mr. Falkland signified as much to Miss
Hardingham.-Sir, interrupted Mr. Tyrrel abruptly,
that lady is my partner.- I believe not, sir : that
lady has been so obliging as to accept my invitation.
-I tell you, sir, no. Sir, I have an interest in that
lady's affections; and I will suffer no man to intrude
upon my claims. The lady's affections are not the
subject of the present question.—Sir, it is to no pur-
pose to parley. Make room, sir !-Mr. Falkland
gently repelled his antagonist.-Mr. Tyrrell returned
he with some firmness, let us have no altercation is
this business :, the master of the ceremonies is th.
proper person to decide in a difference of this sort,
if we cannot adjust it: we can neither of us intend
to exhibit our valour before the ladies, and shall
therefore chearfully submit to his verdict. D---- me,
sir, if I understand—Softly, Mr. Tyrrel, I intended
you no offence. But, sir, no power on earth shall
prevent my asserting that to which I have once ac-
• quired a claim!
Mr. Falkland uttered these words with the most
unruffled temper in the world. The tone in which
he spoke had acquired elevation, but neither rough-
ness nor impatience. There was a fascination in
his manner, that made the ferociousness of his an-
tagonist subside into impotence. Miss Hardingham
had begun to repent of her experiment, but her
alarm was speedily quieted by the dignified compo-
sure of her new partner. Mr. Tyrrel walked away
without answering a word. He inuttered curses as
he went, which the laws of honour did not oblige
Mr. Falkland to overhear, and which indeed it
would have been no easy task to have overheard
with accuracy. Mr. Tyrrel would not perhaps have
80 easily given up his point, had not his own good
sense presently taught him that, however eager he
might be for revenge, this was not the ground he
should desire to occupy. But, though he could not
openly resent this rebellion against his authority, he
brooded over it in the recesses of a malignant mind;
and it was evident enough that he was accumulating


24
ADVENTURES OF
materials for a bitter account, to which he trusted!
his adversary should one day be brought.
This was only one out of innumerable instance
that every day seemed to multiply, of petty mortif-
cations which Mr. Tyrrel was destined to endure on
the part of Mr. Falkland. In all of them Mr. Falk.
land conducted himself with such unaffected pro-
priety, as perpetually to add to the stock of his re-
putation. The more Mr. Tyrrel struggled with his
misfortune, the more conspicuous and inveterate it
became. A thousand times he cursed his stars,
which took, as ho apprehended, a malicious pleasure
in making Mr. Falkland at every turn the instrumeni.
of his humiliation Smarting iinder a succession of
untoward events, he appeared to feel in the most
exquisite manner the distinctions paid to his adver-
sary, even in those points in which he had not the
slightest pretensions. An instance of this now
occurred.
Mr. Clare, a poet, whose works have done immor-
tal honour to the country that produced him, had
lately retired, after a life spent in the sublimest
efforts of genius, to enjoy the produce of his econo.
my and the reputation he had acquired, in this very
neighbourhood. Such an inmate was looked up to
by the country-gentlemen with a degree of adoration
They felt a conscious pride in recollecting, that the
boast of England was a native of their vicinity; and
they were by no means deficient in gratitude, when
they saw him, who had left them an adventurer, re.
turn into the midst of them in the close of his days
crowned with honours and opulence. The reader is
acynainted with his works; he has probably dwelt
upon them with transport; and I need not remind
him of their excellence. But he is perhaps a
stranger to his personal qualifications. He does not
know that his productions were scarcely more admi-
rable than his conversation. In company he seemed
to be the only person ignorant of the greatness of
his fame. To the world his writings will long remai
a kind of specimen of what the human mind is ca-
pable of performing; but no man perceived their de-
fects so acutely as he, or saw so distinctly how much
get remained to be effected. He alone appeared to
look upon his works with superiority and indiffer-
ence. One of the features that most eminently dis;
tinguished him was a perpetual suavity of manners,


CALEB WILLIAMS.
25
a comprehensiveness of mind, that regarded the
errors of others withont a particle of resentment,
and made it impossible for any one to be his enemy.
He pointed out to men their mistakes with frankness
and" unreserve : his remonstrances produced as
tonishment and conviction, but without uneasiness,
in the party to whom they were addressed: they felt
the instrument that was employed to correct their ir.
regnlarities, but it never mangled what it was in-
tended to heal. Such were the moral qualities that
distinguished him among his acquaintance. The in-
tellectual accomplishments he exhibited, were prin-
cipally a tranquil and mild enthusiasm, and a richness
of conception that dictated spontaneously to his
tongue, and flowed with so much ease, that it was
only by retrospect you could be made aware of the
amazing variety of ideas that had been presented.
Mr. Člare certainly found few men in this remote
situation that were capable of participating in his
ideas and amusements. It has been among the
weaknesses of great men to fly to solitude, and con-
verse with woods and groves, rather than with a
circle of strong and comprehensive minds like their
owu. From the monent of Mr. Falkland's arrival
in the neighbourhood, Mr. Clare distinguished him in
the most flattering manner. To so penetrating a ge-
nius, there was no need of long experience and pa-
tient observation to discover the merits and defects
of any character that presented itself. The materials
of his judgment had long since been accumulated,
and at the close of so illustrious a life, he might al-
most be said to see through nature at a glance.
What wonder that he took some interest in a mind in
a certain degree congenial with his own? But to
Mr. Tyrrel's diseased imagination, every distinction
bestowed on his neighbour seemed to be expressly
intended as an insult to him. On the other hand Mr.
Clare, though gentle and benevolent in his remon-
strances to a degree that made the taking offence
impossible, was by no means parsimonious of praise,
or slow to make use of the deference that was paid
him, for the purpose of procuring justice to merit.
It happened at one of those public meetings at
shich Mr. Falkland and Mr. Tyrrel were present,
that the conversation, in one of the most numerous
sets into which the company was broken, turn;
epon the poetical talents of the former. A lart


26
ADVENTURES OF
who was present, and was distinguished for the
acuteness of her understanding, said, she had been
favoured with the sight of a poem he had just
· written, entitled, an Ode to the Genius of Chivalry,
which appeared to her of exquisite merit. The cu-
riosity of the company was immediately excited. and
the lady added, she had a copy in her pocket, which
· would be very much at their service, provided its
being thus produced would not be disagreeable to the
author. The whole circle immediately entreated Mr.
Falkland to comply with their wishes, and Mr. Clare,
who, was one of the company, inforced their petition.
Nothing gave this gentleman so much pleasure as to
have an opportunity of witnessing and doing justice
to the exhibition of intellectual excellence. Mr.
Falkland had no false modesty or affectation, and
therefore readily yielded his consent.
Mr. Tyrrel accidentally sat at the extremity of
this circle. It cannot be supposed that the turn the
conversation had taken was by any means agreeable
to him. He appeared to wish to withdraw himself,
but there seemed to be some unknown power that as
it were by enchantment retained him in his place,
and made him consent to drink to the dregs the bitter
potion which envy had prepared for him."
The poem was read to the rest of the company by
Mr. Clare, whose elocution was scarcely inferior to
his other accomplishments. Simplicity, discrimina-
tion, and energy constantly attended him in the act
of reading, and it is not easy to conceive a more re-
fined delight than fell to the lot of those who had
the good fortune to be his auditors. The beauties of
Mr. Falkland's poem were accordingly exhibited
with every advantage. The successive passions of
the anthor were communicated to the reader. What
was impetuous and what was solemn were delivered
with a responsive feeling, and a flowing and onla-
boured tone. The pictures conjured up by the crea-
tive fancy of the poet were placed full to view. at
one time overwhelming the soul with superstitious
awe, and at another transporting it with luxuriant
beauty.
· The character of the hearers upon this occasion
has been already described. They were for the
most part plain, unlettered, and of little refinenlent.
Poetrv in general they read, when read at all, from
the mere force of imitation and with few sensations


CALEB WILLIAMS
27
.
L
od of leasure ; but this poem had a peculiar vein of
e glowing inspiration. This very poem would proba-
riy have been seen by many of them with little
pict; but the accents of Mr. Clare carried it home
to tie heart. He ended: and, as the conntenances
& his auditors had before sympathised with the pas-
ng of the composition, so now they emulated each
other in declaring their approbation. Their sensa-
vols were of a sort to which they were little accus-
med. One spoke, and another followed by a sort
of uncontrolable impulse; and the rade and broken
S manner of their conimendations rendered them the
more singular and remarkable. But what was least
¿ to be endured, was the behaviour of Mr. Clare. He
1 returned the manuscript to the lady from whom he
had received it, and then turning to Mr. Falkland,
said, with emphasis and animation-Ha! this is as
s it should be. It is of the right stamp. I have seen
e too many hard essays strained from the labour of a
ė pedant, and pastoral ditties distressed in lack of a
meaning. They are such as you, sir, that we want.
Ś Do not forget, however, that the muse was not given
- i add refinements to idleness, but for the highest
į and most invaluable purposes. Act up to the magni-
trine of your destiny.
moment after, Mr. Clare quitted his seat, and
À with Mr. Falkland and two or three more withdrew.
· As soon as they were gone, Mr. Tyrrel edged further
t into the circle. He had sat silent so long, that he
· geemed ready to burst with gall and indignation.
| Mizhty pretty verses, said he, half talking to him-
į self, and not addressing any particular person : why,
! ay-, the verses are well enough. Swearing- I should
like to know what a ship-load of such stuff is good
for.
Why, surely, said the lady who had introduced
Ir. Falkland's ode on the present occasion, you
must allow that poetry is an agreeable and elegant
amusement.
Elegant, quotha !- Why, look at this Falkland !
A pony bit of a thing! In the devil's name, madam,
do you think he would write poetry if he could do
any thing better?
The conversation did not stop here. The lady ex-
ostulated. Several other persons fresh from the
Pasation they had felt, contributed their share. Mr.
yrrel grew more violent in his invectives, and


28
ADVENTURES OF
found ease in uttering them. The persons who were
able in any degree to check his vehemence were
withdrawn. One speaker after another shrunk back
into silence, too timid to oppose, or too indolent to
contend with the fierceness of his passion. He
found the appearance of his old ascendancy; but he
felt its deceitfulness and uncertainty, and was
gloomily dissatisfied.
In bis return from this assembly, he was accom-
panied by a young man whom similitude of manners
had rendered one of his principal confidents, and
whose road home was in part the same as his own.
One might have thought that Mr. Tyrrel had suffi
ciently vented his spleen in the dialogue he had just
been holding. But he was unable to dismiss from
his recollection the anguish he had endured. Den
Falkland ! said he. What a pitiful scoundrel is here
to make all this bustle about! But women and fools
always will be fools ; there is no help for that!
Those that set them on have most to answer for ; and
most of all Mr. Clare. He is a man that ought to
know something of the world, and past being duped
by gewgaws and tinsel. He seemed too to have
some notion of things : I should not have suspected
him of hallooing to a cry of mongrels without honesty
or reason. B:it the world is all alike. Those that
seem better than their neighbours are only more
artful. They mean the same thing, though they take
a different road. He deceived me for a while, but it
is all out now. They are the makers of the mischief.
Fools might blunder, but they would not persist, if
people that ought to set them right, did not encou-
rage them to go wrong:
A few days after this adventure, Mr. Tyrrel was
surprised to receive a visit from Mr. Falkland. Mr.
Falkland proceeded without ceremony to explain the
motive of his coming.
Mr. 'Tyrrel, said he, I am come to have an ami.
cable explanation with yon.
Explanation! What is my offence ?
None in the world, sir; and for that reason I con-
ceive this the fittest time to come to a right under-
standing.
You are in the devil of a hurry, sir. Are you
clear that this haste will not mar, instead of make
an understanding ?


30
ADVENTURES OF
come when we shall wish we had employed it, and
find it too late. Why should we be enemies ? Our
tastes are different; our parsuits need not interfere,
We both of us amply possess the means of happiness;
we may be respected by all, and spend a long life of
tranquillity and enjoyment. Will it be wise in us
to exchange this prospect for the fruits of strife ? A
strife between persons with our peculiarities and our
weaknesses includes consequences that I shudder
to think of. I fear, sir, that it is pregnant with death
at least to one of us, and with misfortune and remorse
to the survivor.
Upon my soul, you are a strange man! Why trou-
ble me with vour prophecies and forebodings?
Because it is necessary to your happiness! Be.
cause it becomes me to tell you of our danger now,
rather than wait till my character will allow this tran:
quillity no longer!
By quarreling we shall but imitate the great mass
of mankind who could easily quarrel in our place.
Let us do better. Let us show that we have the
magnanimity to contemn petty misunderstandings.
By thus judging we shall do ourselves most substan-
tial honour. By a contrary conduct we shall merely
present a comedy for the amusement of our ac-
quaintance.
Do you think so ? there may be something in that.
D- n me, if I consent to be the jest of any man
You are right, Mr. Tyrrel. Let us each act in the
manner best calculated to excite respect. We nei-
ther of us wish to change roads with the other; let us
each suffer the other to pursue his own track unmo-
lested. Be this our compact; and by mutual forbear.
ance let us preserve mutual peace.
Saying this, Mr. Falkland offered his hand to Mr.
Tyrrel in token of friendship. But the gesture was
too significant. The wayward rustic who seemed to
have been somewhat impressed by what had preced-
ed, taken as he was now by surprise, shrunk back.
Mr. Falkland was again ready to take fire upon this
new slight, but he checked himself.
All this is very unaccountable, cried Mr. Tyrrel.
What the devil can have made you so forward, if
you had not some sly purpose to answer by which I
am to be overreached
My purpose, replied Mr. Falkland, is a manly and
living.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
an honest purpose. Why should you refuse a propos
sition dictated by reason, and an equal regard to the
interest of each ?–Mr. Tyrrel had an opportunity
for pause, and fell back into his habitual character.
Well, sir, in all this I must own there is some
frankness. Now I will return you like for like. It
is no matter how I came by it, my temper is rough,
and will not be controlled. Mayhap you may think
it a weakness, but I do not desire to see it altered.
Till you came, I found myself very well : I liked
my neighbours, and my neighbours humoured me.
But now the case is entirely altered ; and, as long
as I cannot stir abroad without meeting with some
mortification in which you are directly or remotely
concerned, I am determined to hate you. Now, sir,
if you will only go out of the county or the kingdom,
to the devil if you please, so as I may never hear of
you any more, I will promise never to quarrel with
you as long as I live. Your rhymes and your rebus.
ses, your quirks and your conundrums may then be
every thing that is grand for what I care.
Mr. Tyrrel, be reasonable ! Might not I as well
desire you to leave the county, as you desire me? I
come to yon, not as to a master, but an equal. In
the society of men we must have something to en-
dure, as well as to enjoy. No man must think that
the world was made for him. Let us take things as
we find them; and accommodate ourselves as we can
to unavoidable circumstances. .
True, sir, all that is very fine talking. But I re-
turn to my text; we are as God made us. I am nei.
ther a philosopher nor a poet, to set out upon a wild
goose chase of making myself a different man from
what you find me. As for consequences, what must
be must be. As we brew, we must bake. And so,
do you see, I shall not trouble myself about what is
to be, but stand up to it with a stout heart when it
comes. Only this I can tell you, that as long as I
find you thrust into my dish every day, I shall hate
you as bad as senna and yalerian. And d—nme,
if I do not think I hate you the more for coming to-
El day in this pragmatical way when nobody sent for
cel you, on purpose to show how much wiser you are
than all the world besides.
1. Mr. Tyrrel, I have done. I foresaw consequences,
Cut and came as a friend. I had hoped that by mutual
and explanation we should bave come to a better under-


32
ADVENTURES OF
I
standing. I am disappointed; but perhaps when
you coolly reflect on what has passed, you will give
me credit for my intentions, and think that my pro-
posal was not an unreasonable one.
Having said this, Mr. Falkland departed. Through
the interview he, no doubt, conducted himself in a
manner that did him peculiar credit. Yet the warmth
of his temper could not be entirely suppressed: and
even when he was most exemplary, there was an ap-
parent loftiness in his manner that could not fail to
irritate ; and the very grandeur with which he sup-
pressed his passions, operated indirectly as a taunt
to his opponent. The interview was prompted
by the noblest sentiments; but it unquestionably
served to widen the breach it was intended to heal."
For Mr. Tyrrel, he had recourse to his old expe-
dient, and unburthened the tumult of his thoughts to
his confidential friend. This, cried he, is a new ar-
tifice of the fellow to prove his imagined superiority.
We knew well enough that he had the gift of the
gab. To be sure, if the world were to be governed
by words, he would be in the right box. Oh, yes,
he had it all hollow! But what signifies prating? Bu-
siness must be done in an other-guess way than that.
I wonder what possessed me that I did not kick him!
But this is all to come. This is only a new debt ad.
ded to the score, which he shall one day richly pay.
This Falkland hannts me like a demon. I cannot
wake, but I think of him. I cannot sleep, but I see
him. He poisons all my pleasures. I should be
glad to see him torn with tenter-hooks, and to grind
his heart-strings with my teeth. I shall know no
joy, till I see him ruined. There may be some things
right about him; but he is my perpetual torment. The
thought of him hangs like a dead weight upon my
heart, and I have a right to shake it off. Does he
think I will feel all that I endure for nothing ?
: In spite of the acerbity of Mr. Tyrrel's feelings, it
is probable however he did some justice to his rival.
He regarded him indeed with added dislike ; but he
no longer regarded him as a despicable foe. He
avoided his encounter; he forbore to treat him with
random hostility; he seemed to lie in wait for
his victim, and to collect his venom for a mortal
assault.
It was not long after that a malignant distemper
broke out in the neighbourhood, which proved fatal


CALEB WILLIAMS. 33
to many of the inhabitants, and was of unexampled
rapidity in its effect. One of the first persons that
was seized with it was Mr. Clare. It may be con-
ceived what grief and alarm this incident anre
through the vicinity. Mr. Clare was considered by
them as something more than mortal. The equanimity
of his behaviour, his unassuming carriage, his exu-
berant benevolence and goodness of heart, joined
with his talents, his inoffensive wit, and the compre-
bensiveness of his intelligence made him the idol of
all that knew him. In the scene of his rural retreat
at least, he had not an enemy. All mourned the
danger that now threatened him. He appeared to
have the prospect of long life, and of going down to
his grąve full of years and of honour. Perhaps these
appearances were deceitful. Perhaps the intellec.
tual efforts he had made, which were occasionally
inore sudden, violent and unintermitted than a strict
regard to health would have dictated, had laid the
seeds of future disease. But a sanguine observer
would infallibly have predicted, that his temperate
habits, activity of mind and unaltered cheerfulness
would be able even to keep death at bay for a time,
and baffle the attacks of distemper, provided their
approach were not uncommonly rapid and violent.
The general affliction therefore was doubly pungent
upon the present occasion.
Bat no one was so much affected as Mr. Falkland.
Perhaps no man so well understood the value of the
life that was now at stake. He immediately hastened
to the spot; but he found some difficulty in gaining
admission.' Mr. Clare, aware of the infectious na.
ture of his disease, had given directions that as few
persons as possible should approach him. Mr. Falk,
land sent up his name. He was told that he was in-
cluded in the general orders. He was not however
of a temper to be easily repulsed; he persisted with
obstipacy, and at length carried his point, being only
reminded in the first instance to employ those pre-
cautions which experience has approved as most ef-
fectual for counteracting infection.
He found Mr. Clare in his bed chamber, but not
in bed. He was sitting in his night-gown at a bureau
near the window. His appearance was composed
and cheerful, but death was in his countenence. I
had a great inclination, Mr. Falkland, said he, not
to have suffered you to come in; and yet there is not


34
ADVENTURES OF
a person in the world it could give me more pleasure
to see. But upon second thoughts I believe there
are few people that could run into a danger of this
kind with a better prospect of escaping. In your
case, at least the garrison will not, I trust, be taken
through the treachery of the commander. I cannot
tell how it is that I, who can preach wisdom to you,
have myself been caught. But do not be discouraged
by my example. I had no notice of my danger, or I
would have acquitted myself hetter. These strange
seeds of distemper seem to float in the air, and to
fasten upon the frame without its being possible for
as to tell what was the method of their approach.
· Mr. Falkland, having once established himself in
the apartment of his friend, would upon no terms
consent to retire. Mr. Clare considered that there
was perhaps less danger in this choice, than in a fre-
quent change from the extremes of a pure to a tainted
air, and desisted from expostulation. "Falkland, said
he, when you came in, I had just finished making
my will. I was not pleased with what I had formerly
drawn up upon that subject, and I did not choose ir
my present situation to call in an attorney. In fact,
it would Le strange, if a man of sense with pure and
direct intentions should not be able to perform such
a function for himself.
Mr. Clare continued to act in the same easy and
disengaged manner as in perfect health. To judge
from the cheerfulness of his tone and the firmness of
his manner, the thought would never once have oc-
curred to you that he was dying. He walked, he
reasoned, he jested, in a way that argued the most
perfect self-possession. But his appearance changed
perceptibly for the worse every quarter of an hour.
Mr. Falkland kept his eye perpetually fixed upon him
with mingled sentiments of anxiety, and admiration.
· Falkland, said he, after having appeared for a
short period absorbed in thought, I feel that I am
dying. This is a strange distemper of mine. Yes-
terday I seemed in perfect health, and to-morrow I
shall be an insensible corpse. How curious is the
line that separates life and death to mortal men! To
be at one moment active, gay, penetrating, with
stores of knowledge at one's command, capable of
delighting, instructing and animating mankind, and
the next, lifeless and loathsome, an incumbrance
upon the face of the earth. Such is the history of
many men, and such will be mine


CALEB WILLIAMS.
35
om to Fe
iscourage
se stray
possible
proach
himseli
an in a fit
klapder
ad former
ut choose i
please I feel as if I had yet much to do in the world; but
ether it will not be. I must be contented with what is past.
care of the It is in vain that I muster all my spirits to my heart.
In to The enemy is too mighty and too merciless for me;
hatake he will not give me time so much as to breathe.
These things are not yet at least in our power. They
of are parts of a great series that is perpetually flowing.
The general welfare, the great business of the uni-
verse, will go on, thongh I bear no further share in
e promoting it. That task is reserved for younger
and strengths, for you, Falkland, and such as you. We
ihli should be contemptible indeed, if the prospect of
human improvement did not yield us a pure and per-
i fect delight, independently of the question of our
Tem existing to partake of it. Mankind would have little
them to envy to future ages, if they had all enjoyed a se-
afin renity as perfect as mine.
Home Mr. Clare sat up through the whole day, indulging
nimseli in easy and cheerful exertions, which were
is perhaps better calculated to refresh and invigorate
on the frame, than if he had sought repose in its direct
i form. Now and then he was visited with a sudden
In fact pang ; but it was no sooner felt, than be seemed to
and rise above it, and smiled at the impotence of the at-
not tack. Three or four times he was bedewed with
profuse sweats, and these again were succeeded by
and in extreme dryness and burning heat of the skin.
die He was next covered with small livid spots. Symp-
si coms of shivering followed, but these he drove away
with a determined resolution. He then became tran-
mais quil and composed, and after some time decided to
in go to bed, it being already night. Falklandi, said
man he, pressing his hand, the task of dying is not so dif-
me licult as some imagine. When one looks back from
the brink of it, one wonders that so total a subversion
in an take place at so easy a price.
He had now been some time in bed, and, as every
hing was still, Mr. Falkland hoped that he slept.
But in that he was mistaken. Presently Mr. Clare
hrew back the curtain, and looked in the countenance
e type of his friend. I cannot sleep, said he. No, if I
To could sleep, it would be the same thing as to re-
with cover; and I am destined to have the worst in this
beroe Falkland, I have been thinking about you. I do
Cance not know any one whose future usefulness I contem-
metod rate with greater hope. Take care of yourself. Do
dorm sod
je easy as
То јас
firmnesse come of
e hare *
iculi
of an hire
d upon by
admiration
ared for
I that (s
ine, Yes
9-MOITO
thic
ious is the
I men!! could si
ting, wat over
capable de battle
kind, 2 Falkla
umbrance


36
ADVENTURES OF
not let the world be defrauded of your virtues. I
am acquainted with your weakness as well as your
strength. You have an inpetuosity and an impa-
tience of imagined dishonour, that, if once set
wrong, may make you as eminently mischievous, as
you will otherwise be useful. Think seriously of
exterminating this error!
But, if I cannot, in the brief expostulation my pre- i to
sent situation will allow, produce this desirable
change in you, there is at least one thing I can do.
I can put you upon your guard against a mischief Il
foresee to be imminent. Beware of Mr. Tyrrel. Do
not commit the mistake of despising him as an unequalle
opponent. Petty causes may produce great mis- be
chiefs. Mr. Tyrrel is boisterous, rugged and unfeel-
ing; and you are too passionate, too acutely sensible an
of injury. It would be truly to be lamented, if a fi
man so inferior, so utterly unworthy to be compared
with you, should be capable of changing your whole
history into misery and guilt. Think of this. I ex-
act no promise from you. I would not shackle you
with the fetters of superstition; I would have you
governed by justice and reason.
Mr. Falkland was deeply affected with this exposit
tulation. His sense of the generous attention of
Mr. Clare at such a moment, was so great as almost
to deprive him of utterance. He spoke in short sen-
tences and with visible effort. I will behave better,
replied he. Never fear me! Your admonitions shall
not be thrown away upon me.
Mr. Clare adverted to another subject. I have
made you my executor: you will not refuse me this De
last office of friendship. It is but a short time that I lën
have had the happiness of knowing you; but in that in
short time I have examined you well, and seen you
thoroughly. Do not disappoint the sanguine hope I *
have entertained!
I have left some legacies. My former connections,
while I lived amidst the busy haunts of men, as
many of them as were intimate, are all of them dear
to me. I have not had time to summon them about 1
me upon the present occasion, nor did I desire it.
The remembrances of me will, I hope, answer a
better purpose than such as are usually thought of on
similar occasions.
Mr. Clare, having thus unburthened his mind, spoke
no more for several hours. Towards morning Mr


CALEB WILLIAMS.
37
2
10
Falkland quietly withdrew the curtain, and looked
at the dying man. His eyes were open, and were
now gently turned towards his young friend. His
countenance was sank, and of a death-like appear-
ance. I hope you are better, said Falkland in a
half-whisper, as if afraid of disturbing him. Mr.
Clare drew his hand from the bed-clothes, and
stretched it forward ; Mr. Falkland advanced, and
tóok hold of it. Much better, said Mr. Clair in a
voice inward and hardly articulate ; the struggle is
now over; I have finished my part; farewel; re-
member! These were his last words. He lived still
a few hours; his lips were sometimes seen to move;
he expired without a groan.
Mr. Falkland had witnessed the scene with mnch
anxiety. His hopes of a favourale crisis, and his
fear of disturbing the last moments of his friend, had
held him dumb. For the last half hour he had stood
up with his eyes intently fixed upon Mr. Clare. He
witnessed the last gasp, the last little convulsive mo-
tion of the frame. He continued to look; he some-
times imagined that he saw life renewed. At length
he could deceive himself no longer, aud exclaimed
with a distracted accent, And is this all ? He would
have thrown himself upon the body of his friend;
the attendants withheld, and would have forced him
into another apartment, but he struggled from them,
and hung fondly over the bed. Is this the end of ge-
nius, virtne, and excellence? Is the luminary of the
world thus for ever gone? Oh, yesterday! yesterday !
Clare, why could not I have died in your stead?
Dreadful moment! Irreparable loss! Lost in the
very maturity and vigour of his mind! Cut off from
a usefulness ten thousand times greater than any he
had already exhibited! Oh, his was a mind to have
instructed sages, and guided the mortal world! This
is all we have left of him! The eloquence of those
ips is gone! The incessant activity of that heart is
utill! The best and wisest of men is gone, and the
world is insensible of its loss!
Mr. Tyrrel heard the intelligence of Mr. Clare's
death with emotion, hut of a different kind. He
avowed that he had not forgiven him his partial at-
tachment to Falkland, and therefore could not recal
lis remembrance with kindness. But, if he could
1 ave overlooked his past injustice, sufficient care. it
deems, was taken to keep alive his resentment. Falk-


38
ADVENTURES OF
land forsooth attended him on his death-bed, as it
nobody else were worthy of his confidential commu-
nications. But what was worst of all was this ex.
ecutorship. In every thing this pragmatical rascal
throws me behind. Contemptible wretch, that has
nothing of the man about him! Must he perpetually
trample on his betters ? Is every body incapable of
saying what kind of stuff a man is made of ? caught
with mere outside ? choosing the flimsy before the
substantial ? And upon his death-bed too! (Mr. Tyr-
rel with his uncultivated brutality mixed, as usually
happens, certain rude notions of religion.] Sure the
sense of his situation might have shamed him. Poor
wretch! his soul has a great deal to answer for. He
has made my pillow uneasy; and, whatever may
be the consequences, it is he we have to thank
for them.
· The death of Mr. Clare removed the person who
could most effectually have moderated the animositius
of the contending parties, and took away the great
operative check upon the excesses of Mr. Tyrrel.
This rustic tyrant had been held in involuntary re.
straint by the intellectual ascendancy of bis celebra-
ted neighbour ; and, notwithstanding the general
ferocity of his temper, he did not appear till lately
to have entertained a hatred against him. In the
short time that bad elapsed, from the period in which
Mr. Clare had fixed his residence in the neighbour.
hood to that of the arrival of Mr. Falkland from the
continent, the conduct of Mr. Tyrrel had even shown
tokens of improvement. Such was the felicity of
Mr. Clare's manners that, while he corrected, he
conciliated, and excited no angry emotions in those
whose actions were most curbed by the apprehension
of his displeasure. Mr. Tyrrel would indeed have
been better satisfied not to have had even this intru-
der into a circle where he had been accustomed to
reign. But with Mr. Clare he could have no rivals
ship; the venerable character of Mr. Clare disposed
him to submission; this great man seemed to have
survived all the acrimony of contention, and all the
jealous subtleties of a mistaken honour.
The effects of Mr. Clare's suavity however, so far
as related to Mr. Tyrrel, had been in a certain de- !
gree suspended by considerations of rivalship between
this gentleman and Mr. Falkland. And, now that
the influence of Mr. Clare's presence and virtues »


CALEB WILLIAMS.
60
was entirely removed, Mr. Tyrrel's temper broke
out into more criminal excesses than ever. The
added gloom · which Mr. Falkland's neighbourhood
inspired, overflowed upon all his connections; and
the new examples of his sullenness and tyranny
which every day afforded, reflected back upon this
accumulated and portentous feud.
The consequences of all this speedily manifested
themselves. Thic very next incident in the story was
in some degree decisive of the catastrophe. Hi-
therto I have spoken only of preliminary matters,
seemingly unconnected with each other, though lead-
ing to that state of mind in both parties, which had
such fatal effects. But all that remains is rapid and
tremendous. The death-dealing mischief advances
with an accelerated motion, appearing to defy human
wisdom and strength to obstruct its operation.
There was a tenant of Mr. Tyrrel, one Hawkins ;
-I cannot mention his name without recollecting
the painful tragedies that are annexed to it! This
Hawkins had originally been taken up by Mr. Tyrrel,
with a view of protecting him from the arbitrary
proceedings of a neighbouring squire, though he had
now in his turn become an object of persecution to
Mr. Tyrrel himself. The first ground of their con-
Dection was this. Hawkins, beside a farm which he
rented under the abovementioned squire, had a
small freehold estate that he inherited from his
father. This of course entitled him to a vote in the
county elections; and, a warmly contested election
having occurred, he was required by his landlord to
vote for the candidate in wh..se favour he had him-
self engaged. Hawking refused to obey the man-
date, and soon after received notice to quit the farm
be at that time rented.
It happened that Mr. Tyrrel had interested himself
strongly in behalf of the opposite candidate; and,
as Mr. Tyrrel's estate bordered upon the seat of
Hawkins's present residence, the ejected country.
man could think of no better expedient than that of
riding over to this gentleman's mar sion, and relating
the case to him. Mr. Tyrrel beard him thronch
with attention. Well, friend, said he, it is very
true that I wished Mr. Jackman to carry his election;
but you know it is nsual in these cases for tenants to
vote just as their landlords please. I do not think
proper to encourage rebellion. All that is very
al


40
ADVENTURES OF
right, and please you, replied Hawkins ; and I
would have voted at my landlord's bidding for any
other man in the kingdom but squire Marlow. You
must know one day his huntsman rode over my fence,
and so through my best field of standing corn. It
was not above a dozen yards about, if he had kept
the cart-road. The fellow bad served me the same
sauce, an it please your honour, three or four times
before. So I only asked him, What he did that for,
and whether he had not more conscience than to
spoil people's crops of that fashion ? Presently the
squire came up. He is but a poor, weazen-face
chicken of a gentleman, saving your honour's re-
verence. And so he flew into a woundy passion,
and threatened to horse whip me. I will do as much
in reason to pleasure my landlord as arr a tenant he
has; but I will not give my vote to a man that
threatens to horsewhip me. And so, your honour, I
and my wife and three children are to be turned out
of house and home, and what I am to do to main-
tain them God knows. I have been a hard-working
man, and have always lived well, and I do think
the case is main hard. Squire Underwood turns me
out of my farm; and, if your honour do not take me
in, I know none of the neighbouring gentry will, for
fear as they say of encouraging their own tenants to
run rusty too.
This representation was not without its effects
upon Mr. Tyrrel. Well, well, man, replied he, we
will see what can be done. Order and subordina-
tion are very good things; but people should know
how much to require. As you tell the story, I can-
not see that you are greatly to blame. Marlow is a
coxcombical prig, that is the truth on't; and, if a
man will expose himself, why, he must even take
what follows. I do hate a Frenchified fop with all
my soul; and I cannot say that I am much pleased
with my neighbour Underwood for taking the part of
such a rascal. Hawkins, I think is your name?
You may call on Barnes, my steward, io-morrow,
and he shall speak to you.
While Mr. Tyrrel was speaking, he recollected
that he had a farm vacant, of nearly the same value
as that which Hawkins at present rented under Mr.
Underwood. He immediately consulted his steward,
and, finding the thing suitable in every respect of
Hawkins was installed out of hand in the catalogue


CALEB WILLIAMS.
1 of Mr. Tyrrel's tenants. Mr. Underwood extremely
Di resented this proceeding, which indeed, as being
Hi contrary to the understood conventions of the country
È gentlemen, few people but Mr. Tyrrel would have
li ventured upon. He said that there was an end to
E all regulation, if tenants were to be encouraged in
such disobedience. It was not a question of this or
at that candidate, seeing that any gentleman, who was
a trne friend to his country, would rather Jose his
election, than do a thing which, if once established
Ed into a practice, would deprive them for ever of the
power of managing any election. The labouring
people were sturdy and resolute enough of their own
accord; it became every day more difficult to keep
them under any subordination ; and, if the gentle-
men were so ill advised as to neglect the public
e good, and encourage them in their insolence, there
I was no foreseeing where it would end. Mr. Tyrrel
was not of a stamp to be influenced by these remon-
strances. Their general spirit was sufficiently con-
formable to the sentiments he himself entertained;
but he was of too vehement a temper to maintain the
character of a consistent politician; and, however
wrong his conduct might be, he would by no means
admit of its being set right by the suggestions of
Ed others. The more his patronage of Hawking was
criticised, the more inflexibly he adhered to it; and
s he was at no loss in clubs and other assemblies to
& overbear and silence, if not to confute his censurers.
Beside which, Hawkins had certain accomplish-
ments which qualified him to be a favourite with
Mr. Tyrrel. The bluntness of his manner and the
ruggedness of his temper gave him some resemblance
to his landlord; and, as these qualities were likely
to be more frequently exercised on such persons as
bad incurred Mr. Tyrrel's displeasure than upon Mr.
Tyrrel himself, they were not observed without
some degree of complacency. In a word, he every
day received new marks of distinction from his pa-
tron, and after some time was appointed coadjutor
to Mr. Barnes, under the denomination of bailiff. It
was about the same period that he obtained a lease
of the farm of which he was tenant.
Mr. Tyrrel was determined, as occasion offered,
to promote every part of the family of this favoured
dependent. Hawkins had a son, a lad of seventeen,
of an agreeable person, a ruddy complexion, and of
CO


42
ADVENTURES OF
quick and lively parts. This lad was in an uncom-
mon degree the favourite of his father, who seemed
to have nothing so much at heart as the future wel-
fare of his son. Mr. Tyrrel had noticed him two or
three times with approbation; and the boy, being
fond of the sports of the field, bad occasionally fol-
lowed the hounds, and displayed various instances
both of agility and sagacity in presence of the squire.
One day in particular, he exhibited himself with an-
common advantage ; and Mr. Tyrrel without farther
delay proposed to his father to take him into his fa-
mily, and make him whipper-in to his hounds, till
he could provide him with some more lucrative ap-
pointment in his service.
This proposal was received by Hawkins with va-
rious marks of mortification, He excused hiinself
with hesitation for not accepting the offered favour;
said the lad was in many ways useful to him; and
hoped his honour would not insist upon depriving
him of his assistance. This apology might perhaps
have been sufficient with any other man than Mr.
Tyrrel; but it was frequently observed of this gen-
tleman that, when he had once formed a determina.
tion however slight in favour of any measure, he
was never afterwards known to give it up, and that
the only effect of opposition was to make him cager
and inflexible in pursuit of that to which he had be.
fore been nearly indifferent. At first he seemed to
receive the apology of Hawkins with good humour,
and to see nothing in it but what was reasonable;
but afterwards, every time he saw the boy his desire
of retaining him in his service was increased, and
he more than once repeated to his father the good
disposition in which he felt himself towards him.
At length he observed, that the lad was no more to
be seen mingling in his favourite sports, and be be-
gan to suspect that this originated in a determination
to thwart him in his projects.
Roused by this suspicion, which was not of a na-
ture with Mr. Tyrrel to brook a delay, he sent for
Hawkins to confer with him. Hawkins, said he, in
a tone of displeasure, I am not satisfied with you.
I have spoken to you two or three times about this
lad of yours, whom I am desirous of taking into
favour. What is the reason, sir, that you seem un-
thankful and averse to my kindness? You ought to
know that I am not to be trifled with. I shall not be


CALEB WILLIAMS.
43
contented, when I offer my favours to have them re-
jected by such fellows as you. I made you what
you are; and, if I please, can make you more help-
less and miserable than you were when I found you.
Have a care!
An it please your honour, said Hawkins, you have
been a very good master to me, and I will tell you
the whole truth. I hope you will na be angry. This
lad is my favourite, my comfort, and the stay of my
age.
Well, and what then? Is that a reason you
should hinder his preferment?
Nay, pray your honour, hear me. I may be very
weak for aught I know in this case, but I cannot
help it. My father was a clergyman. We have all
of us lived in a creditable way; and I cannot bear
to think that this poor lad of mine should go to ser-
vice. For my part, I do not see any good that
comes by servants. I do not know, your honour,
but, I think, I should not like my Leonard to be such
as they. God forgive me, if I wrong them! But
this is a very dear case, and I cannot bear to risk
my poor boy's welfare, when I can so easily, if you
please, keep him out of harm's way. At present
he is sober and industrious, and, without being pert
or surly, knows what is clue to him. I know your
honour, that it is main foolish of me to talk to you
thus ; hut your honour has been a good master to
me, and I cannot
Mr. Tyrrel had heard the whole of this harangue
in silence, because he was too much astonished to
open his mouth. If a thunderbolt had fallen at his
feet, he could not have testified greater surprise.
He had thvaght that Hawkins was so foolishly fond
of his son, that he could not bear to trust him out of
his presence; but had never in the slightest degree
suspected what he now found to be the truth.
Oh, ho, you are a gentleman, are you? A pretty
gentleman truly! Yonr faiher was a clergyman
Your family is too good to enter into my service!
Why, you impudent rascal! was it for this that I
took you up, when Mr. Underwood dismissed you
for your insolence to him? Have I been nursing a
e viper in my hosom? Pretty master's manners will
m he contaminated truly! He will not know what is
da due to him, but will be accustomed to obey orders !
You insufferable villain! Get out of my sight! De.
a be


44
ADVENTURES OF
pend upon it, I will have no gentlemen on my er
tate! I will off with them, root and branch, bag
and baggage! So, do you hear, sir ? come to me
to-morrow morning, bring your son, and ask my
pardon; or take my word for it, I will make you so
miserable, you shall wish you had never been born..
This treatment was too much for Hawkins's pa-
tience. There is no need, your honour, that I
should come to you again abont this affair. I have
taken up my determination, and no time can make
any change in it. I am main sorry to displease your
worship, and I know that you can do me a great deal
of mischief. But I hope you will not be so hard-
hearted, as to ruin a father only for being fond of his
child, even if so be that his fondness should make
him do a foolish thing. But I cannot help it, your
honour : you must do as you please. The poorest
neger, as a man may say, has some point that he
will not part with. I will lose all that I have, and
go to day-labour, and my son too, if needs must;
but I will not make a gentleman's servant of him.
Very well, friend; very well! replied Tyrrel,
foaming with rage, Depend upon it, I will remem-
ber you! Your pride shall have a downfal! I
sware it! is it come to this? Shall a rascal, that
farms his forty acres, pretend to be heard the lord
of the manor ? I will tread you into paste! Let
me advise you, scoundrel, to shut up your house, and
fly as if the devil was behind you! You may think
yourself happy, if I be not too quick for you yet, if
you escape in a whole skin! I would not suffer such
a villain to remain upon my land a day longer, if I
could gain the Indies by it!
Not so fast, your honour, answered Hawkins stor-
dily. I hope you will think better of it, and see that
I have not been to blame. But, if you should not,
there is some harm that you can do me, and some
harm that you cannot. T'hough I am a plain work.
ing man, your honour, do you see ? yet I am a man
still. No; I have got a lease of my farm, and 1
shall not quit it o'thaten. I hope there is some law
for poor folk, as well as for rich ones. .
Mr. Tyrrel, unused to contradiction, was pro-
voked beyond bearing at the courage and independent
spirit of his retainer. There was not a tenant apon
his estate, or at least not one of Hawkins's medj.
ocrity of fortune, whom the general policy of land


46
ADVENTURES OF
a fortnight before the season of harvest, and laid the
whole under water. He ordered his servants to pull
away the fences of the higher ground during the
night, and to turn in his cattle to the utter destruc-
tion of the crop. These expedients however applied
to only one part of the property of this unfortunate
man. Bat Mr. Tyrrel did not stop here. A sudden
mortality took place among Hawkins's live stock, at-
tended with very suspicious circumstances. Haw-
kins's vigilance was strongly excited by this event.
and he at length succeeded in tracing the matter so
accurately, that he conceived he could bring it home
to Mr. Tyrrel himself.
Hawkins had hitherto carefully avoided, notwith-
standing the injuries he had suffered, attempting to
right himself by legal process, being of opinion that
law was better adapted for a weapon of tyranny in
the hands of the rich, than for a shield to protect the
humbler part of the community against their usur-
pations. In this last instapce however he conceived
that the offence was so atrocious, as to make it im-
possible that any rank could protect the culprit
against the severity of justice. In the sequel he saw
reason to applaud himself for his former inactivity in
this respect, and to repent that any motive had beer
strong enough to persuade him into a contrary
system.
This was the very point to which Mr. Tyrre!
wanted to bring him, and he could scarcely credit
his good fortune, when he was told that Hawkins
had entered an action. His congratulation upon this
occasion was immoderate, as he now conceived the
the ruin of his late favourite was irretrievable. A
consulted his attorney, and urged him by every mo.||
tive he could devise to employ the whole series of hi
subterfuges in the present affair. The direct repellie
of the charge exhibited agaiast him was the leas
part of his care; the business was, by affidavit
motions, pleas, demurrers, flaws and appeals, !
protract the question from term to term and from I
court to court. It would, as Mr. Tyrrel argued, bl
the disgrace of a civilized country, if a gentleman
when insolently attacked in law by the scum of tl
earth, could not convert the cause into a question -
the longest purse, and stick in the skirts of his a
versary till he had reduced him to beggary
Mr. Tyrrel however was by no means so far e


CALEB WILLIAMS.
TUU
grossed by his law-suit, as to neglect other methods
of proceeding offensively against his tenant. Among
the various expedients that suggested themselves
there was one, which, though it tended rather to
torment than irreparably injure the sufferer, was not
rejected. This was derived from the particular situ-
ation of Hawkins's house, barns, stacks, and out,
bouses. These were placed at the extremity of a
strip of land connecting them with the rest of the
farm, and were surrounded on three sides by fields
in the occupation of one of Mr. Tyrrel's tenants most
devoted to the pleasures of his landlord. The road
to the market-town ran at the bottom of the largest
of these selds, and was directly in view of the front
of the honse. No inconvenience had yet arisen from
that circumstance, as there bad always heen a broad
path, that intersected this field, and led directly from
Hawkins's house to the road. This path, or private
road, was now by concert of Mr. Tyrrel and his
obliging tenant shut up, so as to make Hawkins a
sort of prisoner in his own domains, and oblige him
to go near a mile about for the purposes of his
25 traffic.
Yonng Hawkins, the lad who had been the origi-
nal subject of dispute between his father and the
squire, had much of his father's spirit, and felt an
uncontrolable indignation against the successive acts
of despotism, of which he was a witness. His re.
sentment was the greater, because the safferings to
which his parent was exposed, all of them flowed
from affection to him, at the same time that he could
pot propose removing the ground of dispute, as by
80 doing, he would seem to fly in the face of his fa.
ther's paternal kindness. Upon the present occasion,
be without asking any counsel hut of his own impatient
resentment, he went in the middle of the night and
let removed all the obstructions that had heen placed in
trit. the way of the old path, broke the padlocks that had
til been fixed, and threw open the gates, In these
free operations he did not proceed unobserved, and the
ist next day a warrant was issued for apprehending
ma him. He was accordingly carried before a meeting
it of justices, and by them committed to the county
Pou jail, to take his trial for the felony at the next assizes.
isa Mr. Tyrrel was determined to prosecute the offence.
with the greatest severity; and his attorney, having
are made the proper enquiries for that purpose, undertook


CALEB WILLIAMS.
49
I
ever required. Mr. Tyrrel proceeded without remis-
sion in his machinations; Hawkins's affairs every
day grew more desperate; and the squire, watching
the occasion, took the earliest opportunity of seizing
upon his remaining property in the mode of a distress
for rent. .
It was precisely in this stage of the affair that Mr
Falkland and Mr. Tyrrel accidentally met in a private
road near the habitation of the latter. They were
on horseback, and Mr. Falkland was going to the
house of the unfortunate tenant who seemed apon
the point of perishing under his landlord's malice.
He had been just made acquainted with the tale of
this persecution. It had indeed been an additional
aggravation of Hawkins's calamity that Mr. Falk-
land, whoso interference might otherwise have saved
him, had been absent from the neighbourhood for a
considerable time. He had been three months in
London, and from thence had gone to visit his es.
tates in another part of the island. The proud and
self-confident spirit of this poor fellow always dis-
posed him to depend as long as possible upon his
own exertions. He had avoided applying to Mr.
Falkland, or indeed indulging himself in any manner
in commụnicating and hewailing his hard hap, in the
beginning of the contention; and, when the extre-
mity grew more urgent, and he would have been
willing to recede in some degree from the stubhorn-
ness of his 'measures, he found it no lunger in his
power. After an absence of considerable duration,
Mr. Falkland at length returned somewhat unex-
pectedly; and, having learned among the first arti-
cles of country intelligence the distresses of this
unfortunate yeoman, he resolved to ride over to his
house the next morning, and surprise him with all
the relief it was in his power to bestow.
At sight of Mr. Tyrrel in this unexpected ren-
counter, his face reddened with indignation. His
first feeling, as he afterwards said, was to avoid
him; but, finding that he must pass him, he con-
cerved that it would be want of spirit not to acquaint
him with his feelings on the present occasion.
Mr. Tyrrel, said he somewhat abruptly, I am sorry
for a piece of news which I have just heard.
And pray, sir, what is your sorrow to me?
A great deal, sir It is caused by the distresses
of a poor tenant of yours, Hawkine. If your stew-


ADVENTURES OF ;
ard have proceeded without your authority, I think
it right to inform you of what he has done; and, if
be have had your authority, I would gladly persuade
you to think better of it.
Mr. Falkland, it would be quite as well if you
would mind your own business, and leave me to mind
mine. I want no monitor, and I will have none.
You mistake, Mr. Tyrrel; I am minding my own
business. If I see you fall into a pit, it is my busi-
ness to draw you out and save yonr life. If I see
you pursuing a wrong line of conduct, it is my busi-
nuss to set you right and save your honour.
Zounds, sir, do not think to put any of your co-
nundrums upon me! Is not the man my tenant? Is
not my estate my own? What signifies calling it
mine, if I am not to have the direction of it? Sir,
I pay for what I have; I owe no man a penny; and
I will not put my estate to nurse to you, nor the best
he that wears a head.
It is very true, said Mr. Falkland, avoiding any
direct notice of the last words of Mr. Tyrrel, that
there is a distinction of ranks. I believe that dis-
tinction to be a good thing, and necessary to the
peace of mankind. But, however necessary it may
be, we must acknowledge that it puts some hardship
upon the lower orders of society. It makes one's
heart ache to think that one man is born to the inhe.
ritance of every superfluity, while the whole share of
another, without any demerit of his, is drudgery and
starving; and that all this is indispensible. We that
are rich, Mr. Tyrrel, must do every thing in our
power to lighten the yoke of these unfortunate people.
We must not use the advantage that accident has
given us, with an unmerciful hand. Poor wretches !
they are pressed almost beyond bearing as it is; and
if we unfeelingly give another turn to the machine,
they will be crushed into atoms.
This picture was not without its effect even upon
the obdurate mind of Mr. 'Tyrrel.-Well, sir, I am
no tyrant. I know very well that tyranny is a bad
thing. But you do not infer from thence that these
people are to do as they please, and never to meet
with their deserts ?
Mr. Tyrrel, I see that you are shaken in your ani-
mosity. Suffer me to hail the new-horn benevolence
of your nature. Go with me to Hawkins. Do not
let us talk of his deserts! Poor fellow! he has aut


CALEB WILLIAMS.
51
fered almost all that human nature can endure. Let
your forgiveness upon this occasion be the earnest of
good neighbourhood and friendship between you and
me.
No, sir, I will not go. lown there is something in
what you say. I always knew you had the wit to
make good your own story, and tell a plausible tale.
But I will not be come over thus. It has always
been my character, when I had once conceived a
scheme of vengeance never to forego it; and I will
not change that character. I took up Hawkins when
every body forsook him, and made a man of him;
and the ungrateful rascal has only insulted me for my
pains. Curse me, if ever I forgive him! It would
be a good jest indeed, if I were to forgive the inso-
lence of my own creature, at the desire of a man
like you that has been my perpetual plague.
For God's sake, Mr. Tyrrel, have some reason in
your resentment! Let us suppose that Hawkins has
behaved unjustifiably, and insulted you. Is that an
offence that can never be expiated ? Must the father
be rained, and the son hanged, to glut your resent-
ment?
D-n me, sir, but you may talk your heart ont;
you shall get nothing of me. I shall never forgive
myself for having listened to you for a moment. I
will suffer nobody to stop the stream of my resent-
ment; if I ever were to forgive him, it should be at
nobody's intreaty but my own. But, sir, I never will.
If he and all his family were at my feet, I would
order them all to be hanged the next minute, if my
power were as good as my will.
And that is your decision, is it? Mr. Tyrrel, I am
ashamed of you! Almighty God! to hear you talk
gives one a loathing for the institutions and regula-
tions of society, and would induce one to fly the very
face of man! But, no! society casts you out; man
abominates you. To wealth, no rank can buy out
your stain. You will live deserted in the midst of
your species; you will go into crowded societies,
and no one will deign so much as to salute you. They
will fly from your glance, as they would from the
gaze of a basilisk. Where do you expect to find the
hearts of flint, that shall sympathize with yours ?
You have the stamp of misery, incessant, undivided,
unpitied misery!..
Thus saying, Mr. Falkland gave spurs to his horse,
9.-


52
ADVENTURES OF
rudely pushed beside Mr. Tyrrel, and was prosently
out of sight. Flaming indignation annihilated even
his favourite sense of honour, and he regarded his
neighbour as a wretch with whom it was impossible
even to enter into contention. For the latter, he re.
mained for the present motionless and petrified.
The glowing enthusiasm of Mr. Falkland was such
98 might well have unnerved the stoutest foe. Mr.
Tyrrel. ir. spite of himself. was blasted with the
compunctions of guilt, and unable to string himself
for the contest. The picture Mr. Falkland had
drawn was prophetic. It described what Mr. Tyrrel
chiefly feared ; and what in its commencements he
thought he already felt. It was responsive to the
whispering of his own meditations; it simply gave
body and voice to the spectre that haunted him, and
to the terrors of which he was an hourly prey.
By and by, however, he recovered. The more he
had been temporarily confounded, the fiercer was his
resentment when he came to himself. Such hatred
never existed in a human bosom, that did not mark
its progress with violence and death. Mr. Tyrrel
however felt no inclination to have recourse to per-
sonal defiance. He was the farthest in the world
from a coward; but his genius sunk before the ge-
nius of Falkland. He left his vengeance to the dis-
posal of circumstances. He was secure that his ani-
mosity would neither be forgotten nor diminished by
the interposition of any time or events. Vengeance
was his nightly dream, and the uppermost of his
waking thoughts.
Mr. Falkland had departed from this conference
with a confirmed disapprobation of the conduct of
his neighbour, and an unalterable resolution to do
every thing in his power to relieve the distresses of
Hawkins. But he was too late. When he arrived,
he found the house already evacuated by its master.
The family was removed nobody knew whither:
Hawkins was absconded; and, what was still more
extraordinary, the boy Hawkins had escaped on the
very same day from the county jail. The enquiries
Mr. Falkland set on foot after them were fruitless;
no traces could be found of the catastrophe of these
unhappy people. That catastrophe I shall shortly !
have occasion to relate ; and it will be found preg.
nant with horror, heyond what the blackest misan
thropy could readily have suggested.


64
ADVENTURES OF
municate her sentiments, which were never of the
cynical cast, without modification or disgnise. Be-
side the advantages Emily derived from Mrs. Jake-
man, she was permitted to take lessons from the
masters who were employed at Tyrrel Place for the
instruction of her cousin; and indeed, as the young
gentleman was most frequently indisposed to attend
to them, they would commonly have had nothing to
do, had it not been for the fortunate presence of Miss
Melvile. Mrs. Tyrrel therefore encouraged the stu-
dies of Emily on that score ; in addition to which she
imagined'that this living exhibition of instruction might
operate as an indirect allurement to her darling Bar.
nabas, the only species of motive she would suffer to
be presented.
Emily, as she grew up, displayed an upcommon
degree of sensibility, which under her circumstances
would have been a source of perpetual dissatisfaction,
had it not been qualified with an extreme sweetness
and easiness of temper. She was far from being en-
titled to the appellation of a beanty. Her person
was petite and trivial : her complexion savoured of
the brunette ; and her face was marked with the
small pox, sufficiently to destroy its eyenness and po-
lish, though not enough to annihilate its expressinn,
But though her appearance was not beautiful, it did
not fail to be in a high degree engaging. Her com-
plexion was at once healthful and delicate; her long
dark eye-brows adapted themselves with facility to
the various conceptions of her mind; and her looks
bore the united impression of on active discernment
and a good humoured frankness. The instruction she
had received, as it was entirely of a casual nature,
exempted her from the evils of untutored ignorance
, but not from a sort of pative wildness, arguing a mind
incapable of guile itself, or of suspecting it in others.
She amused without seeming conscious of the refined
sense which her observations contained ; or rather,
having never been debauched with applause, she set
light hy her own qualifications; and talked from the
pure gaiety of a youthful heart acting upon the stores
of a just understanding, and not with any expectation
of being distinguished and admired.
The death of her aunt made very little change in
her situation. This prudent lady, who would have
thought it little less than sacrilege to have considered
Miss Melvile as a branch of the stock of the Tyrrel's;


CALEB WILLIAMS.
took no other notice of her in her will, than baresy
putting her down for a hondred pounds in a catalogue
of legacies to her servants. She had never been ad-
mitted into the intimacy and confidence of Mrs. Tyr-
rel; and the young sqaire, now that she was left un-
der bis sole protection, seemed inclined to treat her
with even more hberality than is mother had done.
He had seen ber grow up under his eye, and there-
fore, though there were but six years difference in
their ages, he felt a kind of paternal interest in her
welfare. Habit had rendered her in a manner pe-
cessary to him, and in every recess from the occuya-
tions of the field and the pleasures of the table, he
found himself solitary and forlorn without the society
of Miss Melvile. Nearness of kindred and Emily's
want of personal beauty prevented him from ever
looking on her with the eyes of desire. Her accom-
· plishments were chiefly of the customary and super
ficial kind, dancing and music. Her skill in the first
led him sometimes to indulge her with a vacant cor-
ner in his carriage when he went to the peighbouring
assembly; and, in whatever light he might himself
think proper to regard her, he would have imagined
his chambermaid, introduced by him, intitled to an
undoubted place in the most splendid circle. Her
musical talents were frequently employed for his
amusement. She had the honour occasionally of
playing him to sleep after the fatigues of the chase;
and, as he had some relish for harmonious sounds,
she was frequently able to soothe him by their means
from the perturbations of which bis gloomy disposi-
tion was so eminently a slave. Upon the whole, she
might be considered as in some sort his favourite
She was the mediator to whom bis tenants and do
mestics, when they had incurred his displeasure,
were accustomed to apply; the privileged companion
that could approach this lion with impunity in the
midst of his roarings. She spoke to him without fear:
ber solicitations were always good-natured and dis-
interested ; and, when he repulsed her, he disarm-
ed himself of half his terrors, and was contented to
smile at her presumption.
Such had been for some years the sitaation of Miss
Melvile. Its precariousness had been beguiled, by
the cheerfulness of her own temper, and the oncom-
mon forbearance with which she was treated by her
savage protector. But his disposition, always bratal
in
in


66
ADVENTURES OF
had acquired a gradual accession of ferosity since the
settlement of Mr. Falkland in his neighbourhood. is
He now frequently forgot the gentleness with which
he had been accustomed to treat his' good-natured
cousin. Her little playful arts were not always suc-
cessful in softening his rage; and he would some.
times turn npon her blandishments with an impatient
steroness that made her tremble. The careless ease
of her disposition however soon effaced these impres-
sions, and she fell without variation into her old
habits.
A circumstance occurred about this time, which
gave peculiar strength to the acrimony of Mr. Tyrrel,
and ultimately brought to its close the felinity, that
Miss Melvile, in spite of the frowns of fortune, had
hitherte enjoyed. Emily was exactly seventeen when
Mr. Falkland returned from the continent. At this
age she was peculiarly susceptible of the charms of
beauty, grace, and moral excellence, when united in
a person of the other sex. She was imprudent, pre-
cisely because her own heart was incapable of guile.
She had never yet felt the sting of the poverty to
which she was condemned, and had not reflected on
the insuperable distance that custom has placed be-
tween the opnlent and the poorer classes of the com-
munity. She beheld Mr. Falkland, whenever he
was thrown in her way at any of the public meetings,
with admiration; and, without having precisely ex-
plained to herself the sentiments she indulged, her
eyes followed him through all the changes of the
scene with eagerness and impatience. She did not
see him, as the rest of the assembly did, born to one
of the amplest estates in the county, and qualified to
assert his title to the richest heiress. She thought
only of Falkland, with those advantages which were
most intimately his own, and of which no persecu-
tion of adverse fortune had the ability to deprive him.
In a word, she was transported when he was pre-
sept; he was the perpetual subject of her reveries
and her dreams; but his image excited no sentiment
in her mind beyond that of the immediate pleasure
she took in his idea.'
The notice Mr. Falkland bestowed on her in re.
turn appeared sufficiently encouraging to a mind so.
full of prepossession as that of Emily. There was a
particular complacency in bis looks when directed
towards her. He had said in a company, of which


CALEB WILLIAMS.
—-
one of the persons present repeated his remarks to
Miss Melvile, that she appeared to him amiable and
interesting, that he felt for her unprovided and des-
titute situation, and that he should have been glad to
be more particular in his attention to her, had he not
been apprehensive of doing her a prejudice in the
suspicious mind of Mr. Tyrrel. All this she con-
· sidered as the ravishing condescension of a superior
nature ; for, if she did not recollect with sufficient
assiduity his gifts of fortune, she was on the other
hand filled with reverence for his unrivalled accom-
plishments. But, while she thus seemingly disclaim-
ed all comparison between Mr. Falkland and herself
she probably cherished a confused feeling as if some
event, that was yet in the womb of fate, might recon-
cile things apparently the most incompatible. Fraught
with these prepossessions, the civilities that had once
or twice occurred in the bustle of a public circle the
restoring her fan which she had dropped, or the dis-
embarrassing her of an empty tea cup, made her
heart palpitate, and gave birth to the wildest chi-
meras in her deluded imagination.
About this time an event happened that helped to
give a precise determination to the fluctuations of
Miss Melvile's mind. One evening, a short time af-
ter the death of Mr. Clare, Mr. Falkland bad been to
the house of his deceased friend in his quality of ex-
ecator, and by some accidents of little intrinsic im-
portance had been detained three or four hours later
than he expected. He did not set ont upon his re-
turn till two o'clock in the morning. At this time, in
a situation so remote from the metropolis, every thing
is as silent as it would be in a region wholly uninha-
bited. The moon shone bright: and the objects
around being marked with strong variations of light
and shade, gave a kind of sacred solemnity to the
scene. Mr. Falkland had taken Collins with him,
the business to be settled at Mr. Clare's, being in some
respects similar to that to which this faithful domes-
tic had been accustomed in the routine of his ordin-
ary service. They had entered into some conversa-
tion, for Mr. Falkland was not then in the habit of
obliging the persons about him by formality and re
serve to recollect who he was. The attractions of
the scene made him break off the talk somewhat ah.
ruptly, that he might enjoy it without interruption.
They had not rode far, before a hollow wind seemed


ADVENTURES OF
to rise at a distance, and they could hear the hoarse
roarings of the sea. Presently the sky on one side
assamed the appearance of a reddish brown, and a
sudden angle in the road placed this phenomenon di-
rectly before them. As they proceeded, it became
more distinct, and it was at length snfficiently visible
that it was occasioned by a fire. Mr. Falkland put
spurs to his horse ; and, as they approached, the oba
ject presented every instant a more tremendous ap-
pearance. The flames ascended with fierceness;
they embraced a large portion of the horrizon; and,
as they carried up along with them numerous little
fragments of the materials that fed them, impregnated
with fire, and of an extremely bright and luminous
colour, they presented no inadequate image of the
eruption of a volcano.
The flames proceeded from a village directly in
their road. There were eight or ten houses already
on fire, and the whole seemed to be threatened with
immediate destruction. The inhabitants were in the
utmost consternation, having had no previous expe-
rience of a similar calamity. They conveyed with
haste their moveables and furniture into the adjoining
fields. When any of them had eff
as it could be attemptəd with safety, they were un-
able to conceive any farther remedy, but stood wring-
ing their hands and contemplating the ravages of the
fire in an, agony of powerless despair. The water
that could be procured, in any mode practised in that
place, was but as a drop contending with a whole
element in arms. The wind in the mean time was
rising, (and the flames spread with imore and more
rapidity.
Mr Falkland contemplated this scene for a few
minutes, as if ruminating with himself as to what
could be done. He then directed some of the coun-
try people about him to pull down a house, next to
one that was wholly on fire, but which itself was not
yet touched. They seemed astonished at a direction
which implied a voluntary destruction of property,
and considered the task as too much in the heart of
the danger to be undertaken. Ohserving that they
were motionless, he dismounted from his horse, and
called upon them in an authoritative voice to follow !
him. He ascended the house in an instant, and pre-
sently appeared upou the top of it as if in the midst of
the dames. Having with the assistance of two or
deftanto
cted th:


CALEB WILLIAMS.
59
three of the persons that followed him most closely.
- and who by this time had supplied themselves with
whatever tools came next to hand, loosened the sup-
port of a stack of chimnies, he pushed them head.
long into the midst of the fire. He passed and re-
passed along the roof; and, having set people to
work in all parts, descended in order to see what
could he done in any other quarter.
At this moment an elderly woman hurst from the
midst of a house in flames. The utmost consterna-
tion was painted in her looks ; and, as soon as she
could recollect herself enough to have a proper idea
of her situation, the subject of her anxiety seemed
in an instant to be totally changed. Where is my
child ? cried she, and cast an anxious and piercing
look among the surrounding crowd. Oh, she is lost!
she is in the midst of the flames! Save her! save
her! my child! She filled the air with heart-rending
shrieks. She turned towards the house. The peo-
ple that were near endeavoured to prevent her, but
she shook them off in a moment. She entered the
passage ; viewed the hideous ruin ; and was then
going to plunge into the blazing staircase. Mr. Falk-
land saw, pursued, and seized her by the arm; it
was Mrs. Jakeman. Stop! he cried, with a voice
of grand, yet benevolent, authority. Remain you
in the street ! I will seek, -and will save her!--Mrs.
Jakeman obeyed. He charged the persons who
were near to detain her; he enquired which was the
apartment of Emily. Mr. Jakeman was upon a visit
to a sister who lived in the village, and had hrought
Emily along with her. Mr. Falkland ascended a
neighbouring house, and entered that in which Emily
was, by a window in the roof.
He found her already awaked from her sleep; and
becoming sensible of her danger, she had that in.
stant thrown upon her a part of her garments. Such
is the almost irresistible result of feminine habits ;
but, having done this, she examined the surrounding
objects with all the wildness of despair. Mr. Falk-
land entered the chamber. She flew into his arms
with the rapidity of lightning. She embraced and
clang to him, with an impulse that did not wait to
204 consult the dictates of her onderstanding. Her emo-
tions were indescribable In a few short moments
she had lived an age in love. In two minutes Mr.
t" Falkland was again in the street with his lovely hor-


CALEB WILLIAMS.
61
resources, the promptitude with which every thing
was conceived, and the cautious, but daring wisdom
- with which it was executed. All was fairy-land and
enchantment in the tenour of her artless tale; you
saw a beneficent genius surveying and controling the
whule, but could have no notion of any human means
by which bis purposes were effected.
.Mr. Tyrrel listened for awhile to these innocent
effusions with patience; he could even bear to hear
the man applauded by whom he had just obtained so
considerable a benefit. But the theme by amplifica.
tion became nauseous, and he at length with some
roughness put an end to the tale. Probably upon re-
collection it appeared still more insolent and intole-
rable than while it was passing; the sensation of
gratitude wore otl, but the hyperbolical praise that
had been bestowed still haunted his memory, and
sonnded in his ear: Emily had entered into the con-
federacy that disturbed his repose. For herself, she
was wholly unconscious of offence, and upon every
occasion quoted Mr. Falkland as the model of ele-
gant manners and true wisdom. She was a total
stranger to dissimulation; and she could not conceive
that any body beheld the object of her admiration
with less partiality than herself. Her artless love
became more fervent than ever. She flattered her-
self that nothing less than a reciprocal passion could
have prompted Mr. Falkland to the desperate at-
tempt of saving her from the flames; and she trusted
that this passion would speedily declare itself, as
well as induce the object of her affection to overlook
- her comparative unworthiness.
Mr. Tyrrel endeavoured at first with some modera-
tion to check miss Melvile in her applauses, and to
convince her hy various tokens that the subject was
disagreeable to him. He was accustomed to treat
her with kindness. Emily on her part was disposed
to yield an unreluctant obedience, and therefore it
was not difficult to restrain her. But upon the very
. next occasion her favourite topic would force its way
to her lips. Her obedience was the acquiescence of
of a frank and benevolent heart; but it was the
most difficult thing in the world to inspire her with
fear. Conscious herself that she would not hurt a
· worm, she could not conceive that any one would
· harbour cruelty and rancour against her. Her temper
had preserved her from obstinate contention with the
K


62
ADVENTURES OF
persons under whose protection she was placed ; and,
as her compliance was unhesitating, she had had no ex-
perience of a severe and rigorous treatment. As
Mr. Tyrrel's objection to the very name of Falkland
became more palpable and uniform, Miss Melvile in-
creased in her precaution. She would stop herself
in the half-pronounced sentences that were meant to
his praise. This circumstance had necessarily an
ungracious effect; it was a cutting satire upon the
imbecility of her kinsman. Upon these occasions
she would sometimes venture upon a good-humoured
expostulation: Dear sir! well. I wonder how you
can be so ill-natured! I am sure Mr. Falkland would
do you any good office in the world: till she was
checked by some gesture of impatience and fierceness.
At length she wholly conquered her heedlessness
and inattention. But it was too late. Mr. Tyrrel
already suspected the existence of that passion which
she had thoughtlessly imbibed. His imagination, in-
genious in torment, suggested to him all the different
openings in conversation, in which she would have
introduced the praise of Mr. Falkland, had she not
been placed under this unnatural restraint. Her pre-
sent reserve upon the subject was even more insuffer.
able then her former loquacity. All his kindness
for this unhappy orphan gradually subsided. Her
partiality for the man who was the object of his un-
bounded abhorrence, appeared to him as the last per-
secution of a malicious destiny. He figured hiinself,
as Mr Falkland had described him, “ about to be des
serted by every creature in human forin," all men,
under the influence of a fatal enchantment, approving
only what was sophisticated and artificial, and hold.
ing the rude and genuine offspring of nature in mor.
tal antipathy. Impressed with these gloomy presages,
he saw Miss Melvile with no sentiments but those of
rancorous aversion; and, accustomed as he was to
the uncontrouled indulgence of his propensities, he
determined to wreak upon her a signal revenge,
Mr. Tyrrel consulted his old confident respecting
the plan he should pursue, who, sympathising as he
did in the brutality and insolence of his friend, had
no idea that an insignificant girl, withont either
wealth or beauty, ought to be allowed for a moment
to stand in the way of the gratifications of a man of
Mr. Tyrrel's importance. The first idea of her now
uprelenting kins puan was to thrust her from his doors,


64
ADVENTURES OF
1
ness as well as the delicate frame of the bird, that
warbles unmolested in its native groves.
When therefore she heard from her kinsman the
proposal of Mr. Grimes for a husband, she was for a
moment silent with astonishment at so unexpected
a suggestion. But, as soon as she recovered her
speech, she replied: No, sir, I do not want a husband.
You do! Are not you always bankering after the
men? It is high time you should be settled..
Mr. Grimes! No, indeed! when I do have a
husband, it shall not be such a man as Mr. Grimes
neither.
Be silent! How dare you give yourself such unuc-
countable liberties?
Lord, I wonder what I should do with him. You
might as well give me your great rough water-dog,
and bid me make him a silk cushion to lie in my
dressing-room. Beside, sir, Grimes is a common
labouring man, and I am sure I have always heard
my aunt say that ours is a very great family.
It is a lie! Our family? Have you the impudence
to think yonrself one of our family?
Why, sir! was not your grandpapa my grand-
papa ? How then can we be of a different family?
. For the strongest reason in the world. You are
the daughter of a rascally Scotchman, who spent
every shilling of my aunt Lucy's fortune, and left
you a beggar. You have got a hundred pounds, and
Grimes's father promises to give him as much. How
dare you look down upon your equals ?
Indeed, sir, I am not proud. But indeed and in-
deed, I can never love Mr. Grimes. I am very
happy as I am: why should I be married?
Silence your prating! Grimes will be here this af-
ternoon. Look that you behave well to him. If
you do not, he will remember and repay, when you
least like it.
Nay, I am sure, sir, you-you are not in earnest ?
Not in earnest ! D- n me, but we will see that.
I can tell what you would be at. You had rather be
Mr. Falklands's miss, than the wife of a plain down-
right yeoman. But I shall take care of you.-Aye,
this comes of indulgence. You must be taken down,
miss. You must be taught the difference between
high-flown notions and realities. Mayhap you may
take it a little in dudgeon or so. But never mind


CALEB WILLIAMS.
65
that all be
determined to
cordingly rep
that. Pride always wants a little smarting. If you
shonid be brought to shame, it is I that shall bear
the blame of it.
The tone in which Mr. Tyrrel spoke was so dif-
ferent from any thing to which miss Melvile had been
accustomed, that she felt herself wholly unable to
determine what construction to put upon it. Some-
times she thought he had really formed a plan for im-
posing upon her a condition, that she could not bear
80 much as to think of. But presently she rejected
this idea as an unworthy imputation upon her kins-
man, and concluded that it was only his way, and
that all he meant was to try her. To be resolved
however she determined to consult her constant ad-
viser, Mrs. Jakeman, and accordingly repeated to
to her what had passed. Mrs. Jakeman saw the
whole in a very different light from that in which
Emily had conceived it, and trembled for the future
peace of her beloved ward.'
Lord bless me, my dear mamma! cried Emily,
(this was the appellation she delighted to bestow
upon the good housekeeper) you cannot think so ?
But I do not care. I will never marry Grimes, hap-
pen what will. :
But how will you help yourself? My master will
oblige you.
Nay, now you think you are talking to a child in.
deed." It is I am to have the man, not Mr. Tyrrel.
Do you think I will let any body else choose a hus-
band for me? I am not such a fool as that neither.
Ah, Emily! you little know the disadvantages
of your situation. Your cousin is a violent man,
and perhaps will turn you out of doors, if you op-
pose him."
Oh, mamma, it is very wicked of you to say so.
I am sure Mr. Tyrrel is a very good man, though he
be a little cross now and then. He knows very well
that I am right to have a will of my own in such a
thing as this, and nobody is punished for doing what
is right.
Nobody ought, my dear child. But there are very
wicked and tyrannical men in the world.
Well, well, i will never believe my cousin is one
of those.
I hope he is not.
And, if he were, what then? To be sure I should
he very sorry to niake him angry.


66
ADVENTURES OF
What then? Why then my poor, dear Emily
would be a beggar. Do you think I could bear to
see that?
No, no. Mr. Tyrrel has just told me that I have a
hundred pounds. But, if I had no fortune at all, is
not that the case with a thousand other folks ? Why
should I grieve, for what they bear and are merry?
Do not make yourself uneasy, mamma. I am de-
termined that I will do any thing rather than marry
Grimes ; that is what I will.
Mrr. Jakeman could not bear the uneasy state of
suspense in which this conversation left her mind,
and went immediately to the squire to have her
doubts resolved. The manner in which she proposed
the question sufficiently indicated the judgment she
had formed of the match.
That is true, said Mr. Tyrrel, I wanted to speak
to you about this affair. The girl has got unaccount-
able notions in her head. that will be the ruin of her.
You perhaps can tell where she had them. But, be
that as it will, it is high time something should be
done. The shortest way is the best, and to keep
things well while they are well. In short I am de
termined she shall marry this lad: you do not know
any harm of him, do you? You have a good deal
of influence with her, and I desire, do you see?!
that you will employ it to lead her to her good: you:
had best, I can tell you. She is a pert vixen! By
and by she would be a wh--e, and at last no better
than a common troll, and rot upon a cungbil, if I
were not at all these pains to save her from de- !
struction. I would make her an honest farmer's
wife, and my pretty miss cannot bear the thoughts
of it!
In the afternoon Grimes came according to ap-
pointment, and was left alone with the young lady.
Well, miss, said he, it seems the squire has a mind
to make us man and wife. For my part, I cannot
say I should have thought of it. But, being as how
the squire has broke the ice, if so be as you like of
the match, why I am your man. Speak the word,
a nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse; and
then, do you see, why there is no more to be said.
Emily was already sufficiently mortified at the uni
expected proposal of Mr. Tyrrel. She was con- i
tounded at the novelty of the situation, and still


Emily
ar to
are a
Why
erry
de
nam
ted
mind
her
OSAT
ant



London, Published Aug 7,1824 by S. Fisher.
W. Eopwood, der
7. C. Renolds, souty.
Tell Mip, it seems the Squire has a
mined to make us man and wre, Say the
word; I am you man, we shall rúlı on
main will together.
Page 67.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
more at the incultivated rudeness of her lover,
which even exceeded her expectation. This confu-
sion was interpreted by Grimes into diffidence.
Come, come, never he cast down. Put a good
face upon it. What though? My first sweetheart
was Bet Butterfield, but what of that? What must
be, must be ; grief will never fill the belly. She
was a fine strapping wench, that is the truth of it!
Five foot ten inches, and as stout as a trooper. Oh,
she wonld do a power of work! Up early and down
late ; milked ten cows with her own hands; on with
her cardinal, rode to market between her panniers,
fair weather and foul, hail, blow or snow. It would
have done your heart good to have seen her frost-
bitten cheeks, as red as a beefen from her own or-
chard! Ah, she was a maid of nettle ; would ronıp
with the harvest-nsen, slap one upon the back, wres-
tle with another, and had a rogue's trick and a joke
for all round. Poor girl! she broke her neck down.
stairs at a christening. To be sure I shall never
meet with her fellow! But never yon mind that! I
do not doubt that I shall find more in you opon fixther
ncqnaintance. As coy and hashful as you seem, I
dare say you are rogue enough at bottom. When
I have touzled and rumpled you a little, we shall
see. I am no chicken, miss, whatever you may
think. I know what is what, and can see as far into
a milstone as another. Ay, ay; you will come te.
The fish will snap at the bait, never doubt it. Yes,
yes, we shall rub on nain well together.
Émily by this tirae had in some degree mustered
up her spirits, and began, though with hesitation, to
thank Mr. Grimes for his good opinion, but to con-
Sess that she could never be brought to favour his ad.
dresses. She therefore intreated him to desist from
all further application. This remonstrance on her
part would have become more intelligible, had it not
the been for his hoisterous manners and extravagant
chearfulness, which indisposed him to silence, and
made him suppose that at half a word he had a suf-
ficient intimation of another's meaning. Mr. Tyrrel
in the mean time was too impatient, not to interrupt
the scene before they could have time to proceed far
in explanation; and he was stadious in the sequel to
prevent the young folks from being too intimately
acquainted with each other's inclinations. Grimes


68
ADVENTURES OF
of consequence attributed the reluctance of Miss
· Melvile to maiden coyness, and the skittish shyness
of an unbroken colt. Indeed had it been otherwise,
it is not probable that it would have made any ef
fectual impression upon him; as he was always ac-
customed to consider women as made for the recrea-
tion of the men, and to exclaim against the weakness
of people who taught them to imagine they were to
judge for themselves.
As the suit proceeded, and Miss Melvile saw more
, of her new admirer, her antipathy increased. But,
though her character was unspoiled by those false
wants which frequently make people of family mi-
serable while they have every thing that nature re-
quires within their reach, yet she had been little
used to opposition, and was terrified at the growing
sternness of her kinsman. Sometimes she thouglıt
of flying from a house which was now become her
dungeon; but the habits of her youth, and her igno-
'rance of the world made her shrink from this project
when she contemplated it more nearly. Mrs. Jake.
man indeed could not think with patience of young
Grimes as a husband for her darling Emily, but her
prudence determined her to resist with all her might 1
the idea on the part of the young lady of proceedings
to extremities. She could not believe that Mr.
Tyrrel would persist in such an unaccountable perse.
cution, and she exhorted Miss Melvile to forget for
a moment the unaffected independence of her cha.
racter, and pathetically to deprecate Mr. Tyrrel's
obstinacy. She had great confidence in the ingen-
ous eloquence of her ward. Mrs. Jakeman did not
know what was passing in the breast of the tyrant.
· Miss Melvile complied with the suggestion of her
mamma. One morning, immediately after breakfast,
she went to her harpsichord, and played one after
another several of those airs that were most the
favourites of Mr. Tyrrel. Mrs. Jakeman was re-
tired; the servants were gone to their respective
employments. Mr. Tyrrel would have gone also..
- his mind was untuned, and he did not take the plez.
sure he had been accustomed to take in the musica!
· performances of Emily. But her finger was nov
more tasteful than common. Her mind was probably
wrought up to a firmer and bolder tone by the reco
:lection of the cause she was going to plead, at tht
same time it was exempt from those incapacitating


70
ADVENTURES OF
js a rough rustic lout, like Orson in the story-book.
He wants a wife like himself. He would be as un-
easy and as much at a loss with me, as I with him.
Why should we both of us be forced to do what
neither of us is inclined to? I cannot think what
could ever have put it in your head. But now, for
goodness' sake, give it up! Marriage is a cerious
thing. You should not think of joining two people
for a whim, who are neither of them fit for one ano-
ther in any respect in the world. We should feel
mortified and disappointed all our lives. Month
would go after month, and year after year, and I
could never hope to be my own but hy the death of a
person I ought to love. I am sure, sir, you cannot
mean me all this harm. What have I done, that I
should deserve to have you for an enemy?
I am not your enemy. I tell you that it is neces.
sary to put you out of harm's way. But, if I were
your enemy, I could not be a worse torment to you
than you are to me. Are not you continually singing
the praises of Falkland? Are not you in love with
Falkland ? That man is a legion of devils to me!
I might as well have been a beggar! I might as well
have been a dwarf or a monster! Time was when :
I was thonght entitled to respect. But now, de-
bauched by this Frenchified rascal, they call me
- rude, surly, a tyrant! It is true that I cannot talk
in finical phrases, flatter people with hypocritical
praise, or suppress the real feelings of any mind!
The scoundrel knows his pitiful advantages, and in-
sults me upon them without ceasing. He is my rival
and my persecutor. And at last, as if all this were
not enough, he has found means to spread the pesti-
lence in my own family. You, whom we took up out
of charity, the chance-born brat of a stolen marriage !
you, must turn upon your benefactor, and wound me
in the point that of all others I could least bear. If
I were your enemy, should not I have reason ?
Conld I ever inflict upon you such injuries as you
have made me suffer? And who are you? The
lives of fifty such cannot atone for an hour of my un-
easiness. If you were to linger for twenty years
upon the rack, you would never feel what I have
felt. But I am your friend. I see which way you
are going, and I am de ermined to save you from
this thief, this hypocriti al destroyer of us all.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
71.
Every moment that the mischief is left to itself, it
does but make had worse, and I am determined to
save you out of hand.
The angry expostulations of Mr. Tyrrel suggested
new ideas to the tender mind of Miss Melvile. He
had never confessed the emotions of his soul so ex-
plicitly before ; but the tempest of his thoughts suf-
fered him to be no longer master of himself. She
gaw with astonishment that he was the irreconcilable
foe of Mr. Falkland. whom she had fondly imagined
it was the same thing to know and admire; and that
he harboured a deep and rooted resentment against
herself. She recoiled without well knowing why be-
fore the ferocions passions of her kinsman, and was
convinced that she had nothing to hope from his im-
placable temper. But her alarm was the prelude of
firmness and not of cowardice.
No, sir, replied she, indeed I will not be driven
any way that you happen to like. I have been used
to obey you, and in all that is reasonable I will obey
you still. But you wrge me too far. What do you
tell me of Mr. Falkland ? Have I ever done any
thing to deserve your unkind suspicions ? I am in-
nocent, and will continue innocent. Mr. Grimes
is well cnongh, and will no doubt find women that
like him. But he is not fit for me, and torture shall
not force me to be his wife.
Mr. Tyrrel was not a little astonished at the spirit
which Emily displayed upon this occasion. He had
calculated too securely upon the general mildness
and suavity of her disposition. He now endeavoured
to qualify the harshness of his former sentiments,
by a tremendous oath.
And so you can scold, can you? You expect every
body to turn out of his way, and fetch and carry, just
as you please? I could find in my heart-But you
know my mind. I insist upon it that you let Grimes
court you, and that you lay aside your sulks, and
give him a fair hearing. Will you do that? If then
you persist in your wilfulness, why there, I suppose,
is an end of the matter. Do not think that any body
is going to marry you, whether you will or no. You
are no such mighty prize, I assure you. If you knew
your own interest, you wonld be glad to take the
young fellow, while he is willing.
Miss Melvile rejoiced in the prospect, which the


72
ADVENTURES OF
last words of her kinsman afforded her, of a termi-
nation at no great distance to her present persecu-
tions. Mrs. Jakeman, to whom she communicated
them, congratulated Emily on the returning modera-
tion and good sense of the squire, and herself on
her prudence, in having urged the young lady to this
happy expostulation. But their mutual felicitations
lasted not long. Mr. Tyrrel informed Mrs. Jakeman
of the necessity in which he found himself of send-
ing her to a distance upon a business which would
not fail to detain her several weeks; and though the
errand by no means wore an artificial or ambiguous
face, the two friends drew a melancholy presage
from this ill-timed separation. Mrs. Jakeman in the
mean time exhorted her ward to persevere, reminded
her of the compunction which had already been ma-
nifested by her kinsman, and encouraged her to hope
every thing from her courage and good temper.
Emily on her part, though grieved at the absence of
her protector and counsellor at so interesting a crisis,
was unable to suspect Mr. Tyrrel of such a degree,
either of malice or duplicity, as could afford ground
for serious alarm. She congratulated herself upon
her delivery from so alarming a persecution, and
drew a prognostic of future success from this happy
termination of the first serious affair of her life.
She exchanged a state of fortitude and alarm for her
former pleasing dreams respecting Mr. Falkland.
These she bore without impatience. She was even
taught by the uncertainty of the event to desire to
prolong rather than abridge a situation, which might
be delusive, but which was not without its pleasures.
Nothing could be further from Mr. Tyrrel's inten-
tion than to suffer his project to be thus terminated.
No sooner was he freed from the fear of his house-
keeper's interference, than he changed the whole
system of his conduct. He ordered Miss Melvile to
be closely confined to her own apartment, and de-
prived of all means of communicating her situation
to any one out of his own house. He placed over
her a female servant, in whose discretion he could
confide, and who, having formerly been honoured
with the amorous notices of the squire, considered
the distinctions that were paid to Emily at Tyrrel
Place as an usurpation upon her more reasonable
claims The squire himself did every thing in his


CALEB WILLIAMS.
73
power to blast the young lady's reputation, and re:
presented to his attendants these precautions as ne-
cessary, to prevent her from eloping to his neigh-
bour, and planging herself in total ruin.
As soon as Miss Melvile had been twenty-four
hours in durance, and there was some reason to sup-
pose that her spirit might be subdued to the emer.
gency of her situation, Mr. Tyrrel thought proper to
go to her, to explain the grounds of her present
treatment, and acquaint her with the only means by
which she could hope for a change. Emily no sooner
saw him, than she turned towards him with an air of
greater firmness than perhaps she had ever assumed
in her life, and accosted him thus :
Well, sir, is it you? I wanted to see yon. It
seems I am shut up here by your orders. What
does this mean? What right have you to make a
prisoner of me? What do I owe you? Your mother
left me a hundred pounds: have you ever offered to
make any addition to my fortune?' But, if you bad,
I do not want it. I do not pretend to be better than
the children of other poor parents : I can maintain
myself as they do. I prefer liberty to wealth.-
I see you are surprised at the resolution I exert.
But ought I not to turn again, when I am tram.
pled upon ? I should have left you before now,
if Mrs. Jakeman had not overpersuaded me, and
if I had not thought better of you, than by
your present behaviour I find you deserve. But
now, sir, I intend to leave your house this moment,
and insist upon it that you do not endeavour to pre-
vent me.
Thus saying, she rose, and went towards the
door, while Mr. Tyrrel stood thunderstruck at her
magnanimity. Seeing however that she was upon
the point of being out of the reach of his power,
he recovered himself, and pulled her back.
What is in the wind now? Do you think, strum-
pet, that you shall get the better of me by sheer im-
pudence? Sit down! rest you satisfied !-So you
want to know by what right you are here, do you?
By the right of possession. This house is mine,
and you are in my power. There is no Mrs. Jake-
man now to spirit you away ; no, nor no Falkland to
bully for you. I have countermined you, don me,
and blown up your schemes. Do you think I will be


74
ADVENTURES OF
11
contradicted and opposed for nothing? When did
you ever know any body resist my will without being.
made repent? And shall I now be brow-beaten by
a chitty-faced girl?-I have not given you a fortune?.
Who brought you up? I will make you a bill for
clothing and lodging. Do not you know that every
creditor has a right to stop his runaway debtor? You
may think as you please; but here you are till you
marry Grimes. Heaven and earth shall not prevent
but I will get the better of your obstinacy!.
Ungenerous, unmerciful man! and so it is enough
for you that I have nobody to defend me! But I ain
not so helpless as you may imagine. You may im-
prison my body, but you cannot conquer my mind,
Marry Mr. Grimes! And is this the way to bring
me to your purpose ? Every hardship I suffer puts
still further distant the end for which I aru thus un-
justly treated. “You are not used to have your will
contradicted !” When did I ever contradict it?
And in a concern that is so completely my own shall
my will go for nothing ? Would you lay down this
rule for yourself, and suffer no other creature to take
the benefit of it? I want nothing of you; how dare
you refuse me the privilege of a reasonable being,
to live unmolested in poverty and innocence? What
sort of a man do you show yourself, you that lay
claim to the respect and applause of every one that
knowi you?
The spirited reproaches of Emily had at first the
effect to fill Mr. Tyrrel with astonishment, and make
him feel abashed and overawed in the presence of
this unprotected innocent. But his confusion was
the result of surprise. When the first emotion wore
off, he cursed himself for being moved by her ex-
postulations ; and was ten times more exasperated
against her for daring to defy his resentment, at a
time when she had every thing to fear. His desnotic
and unforgiving propensities stimulated him to a de-
gree little short of madness. At the same time his
habits, which were pensive and gloomy, led him to
meditate a variety of schemes to punish her obsti-
vacy. He began to suspect that there was little
hope of succeeding by open force; and therefore
determined to have recourse to treachery.
He found in Grimes an instrument sufficiently
adapted to his purpose. This fellow, without an


CALEB WILLIAMS.
75
atom of intentional malice, was fitted by the mere
coarseness of his perceptions for the perpetration of
the greatest injuries. He regarded both injury and
advantage merely as they related to the gratifications
of appetite ; and considered it as essential in true
wisdom to treat with insult the effeminacy of those,
who suffer themselves to be tormented with ideal
misfortunes. He believed that no happier destiny
could befal a young woman than to be his wife, and
conceived that that termination would amply. com-
pensate for any calamities she might suppose herself
to undergo in the interval. He was therefore easily
prevailed upon by certain temptations which Mr.
Tyrrel knew how to employ, to take part in the plot
into which Miss Melvile was meant to be betrayed.
Matters being thus prepared, Mr. Tyrrel proceed.
ed through the means of the jailor (for the experience
he already had of personal discussion did not in-
-cline him to repeat his visits), to play upon the tears
of his prisoner. This woman, sometimes under pre.
tence of friendship, and sometimes with open ma-
lice, informed Emily from time to time of the prepa-
rations that were making for her marriage. One
day “the squire had rode over to look at a neat little
farm which was destined for the habitation of the
new-married couple,” and at another “ a quantity of
live stock and household furniture was procured, that
every thing inight be ready for their reception.” She
then told her “ of a licence that was bought, a par-
son in readiness, and a day fixed for the nuptials."
When Emily endeavoured, though with increased
misgivings, to ridicule these proceedings as absolutely
nugatory without her consent, her artful gouveruante
related various stories of forced marriages, and as-
sured her that neither protestations, nor silence, nor
fainting would be of any avail, either to suspend the
ceremony, or to set it aside when performed.
The situation of Miss Melville was in an eminent
degree pitiable. She had no intercourse but with her
persecutors. She had not a human being with whom
to consult, and who might afford her the smallest de-
gree of consolation and encouragement. She had
courage ; but it was neither confirmed nor directed
by the dictates of experience. It could not there-
fore be expected to be so inflexible as with better in-
formation it would no doubt have been found. She
had a clear and noble spirit; but she had some of


70
ADVENTURES OF
her sex's errors. Her mind sunk under the uniform
terrors with which she was assailed, and her health
became visibly impaired.
Her firmness being thus far undermined, Grimes,
in pursuance of his instructions, took care in his next
interview to throw out an insinuation, that for his
own part he had never cared for the match, and,
since she was so averse to it, would be better pleased
that it should never take place. Between one and
the other, however, he was got into a scrape, and
now he supposed he must marry, will he, nill he.
The two squires would infalliby rnin him upon the
least appearance of hackwardness on his part, as
poor Hawkins had been ruined before. Emily was
rejoiced to find her admirer in so favourable a dispo-
sition; and earnestly pressed him to give effect to
this humane declaration. Her representations were
full of eloquence and energy. Grimes appeared to
be moved at the fervency of her manner; but ob-
jected the resentment of Mr. Tyrrel and his land-
lord. At length, however, he suggested a project,
in consequence of which he might assist her in her
escape, without its ever coming to their knowledge,
as indeed there was no likelihood that their saspi-
cions would fix upon him. To be sure, said he, you
have refused me in a disdainful sort of a way, as a
man may say. Mayhap you thought I was no better
than a brute. But I hear you no malice, and I will
show you that I am more kind-hearted than you have
been willing to think. It is a strange sort of a va-
gary you have taken, to stand in your own light, and
disoblige all your friends. But, if you are resolute,
do you see? I scorn to be the husband of a lass that
is not every bit as willing as I; and so I will even
help to put you in a condition to follow your own in-
clinations.
Emily listened to these suggestions at first with
eagerness and approbation. But her fervency some-
what ahated, when they came to discuss the minute
parts of the undertaking. It was necessary, as
Grimes informed her, that her escape should he ef-
fected in the dead of the night. He would conceal
himself for that purpose in the garden, and be provi-
ded with false keys, by which to deliver her from her
prison. These circumstances were by no means
adapted to calm her perturbed imagination. To
throw herself into the arms of the man, whose inter-


CALEB WILLIAMS
77
course she was employing every method to avoid, and
whom ander the idea of a partner for life she could
least of all men endure, was no doubt an extraordi.
nary proceeding. The attendant circumstances of
darkness and solitude aggravated the picture. The
situation of Tyrrel Place was uncommonly lonely: it
was three miles from the nearest village, and no less
than seven from that in which Mrs. Jakeman's sister
resided, under whose protection Miss Melvile was
desirous of placing herself. The ingenuous character
of Emily did not allow her once to suspect Grimes of
intending to make an angenerous and brutal advan-
tage of these circumstances; but her mind involun-
tarily revolted against the idea of committing herself
alone to the disposal of a man, whom she had lately
been accustomed to consider as the instrument of her
treacherous relation.
After having for some time revolved these consi-
derations, she thought of the expedient of desiring
Grimes to engage Mrs. Jakeman's sister to wait for
her at the outside of the garden. But this Grimes
peremptorily refused. He even fell into a passion at
the proposal. It showed very iittle gratitude, to de-
sire him to disclose to other people his cuncern in this
dangerous affair. For his part he was determined,
in consideration of his own safety, never to appear in
it to any living soul. If miss did not believe him,
when he made this proposal out of pure good nature,
and would not trust him a single inch, she might even
see to the consequences herself. He was resolved
to condescend no further to the whims of a person
who in her treatment of him had shown herself as
proud as Lucifer himself.
Emily exerted herself to appease his resentment;
bnt all the eloquence of her new confederate could
not prevail upon her instantly to give up her objection.
She desired till the next day to consider of it.. The
day after was fixed by Mr. Tyrrel for the marriage
ceremony. In the mean time she was pestered with
intimations in a thousand forms of the fate that so
nearly awaited her. The preparations were so con-
tinued, methodical and regular, as to produce in her
the most painful and aching anxiety. It her heart
attained a moment's intermission upon the subject,
her female attendant was sure by some sly hint or
sarcastical remark, to put a speedy termination to
her tranquillity. She felt herself, as she afterwards
M


ADVENTURES OF
remarked, alone, uninstructed, just broken loose as
it were from the trammels of infancy, without one
single creature to concern himself in her fate. She,
who till then had never known an enemy, had now
for three weeks not seen the glimpse of a human
countenance, that she had not good reason to consi-
der as wholly estranged to her at least, if not unre-
lentingly bent on her destruction. She now, for the
first time, experienced the anguish of never having
knowu her parents, and being cast upon the charity
of people with whom she had too little equality to
hope to receive from them the offices of friendship.
The succeeding night was filled with the most
anxious thoughts. When a momentary oblivion stole
upon her senses, her distempered imagination con-
jared up a thonsand images of violence and falshood,
she saw herself in the hands of her determined
enemies, who did not hesitate by the most daring
treachery to complete her ruin. Her waking thoughts
were not more consoling. The struggle was too
great for her constitution. As morning approached,
she resolved at all hazards to put herself into the
hands of Grimes. This determination was no sooner
made, than she felt her heart sensibly lightened.
She could not conceive any evil which could resolt
from this proceeding, that deserved to be put in the
balance against those which, iuder the roof of her
kinsman, appeared unavoidable.
When she communicated her determination to
Grimes, it was not possible to say whether he re
ceived pleasure or pain from the intimation, H.
smiled indeed, but his smile was accompanied by a
certain abrupt ruggedness of countenance, so that i.
might equally well be the smile of sarcasm or ot
congratulation. He however renewed his assurance
of fidelity to his engagements and punctuality o!
execution. Meanwhile the day was intersperse.
with nuptial presents and preparations, all indicatin
the firinness as well as security of the directors o:
the scene. Emily had hoped that, as the crisis ap
proached, they might have remitted something of
their usual diligence: She was resolved in that case,
if a fair opportunity had offered, to give the slip both
to her jailors, and to her uew, and reluctantly chosen
confederate. But, though extremely vigilant for that
purpose, she found the execution of this idea imprac
ticable.


80 · ADVENTURES OF
motion had been at rest. By and by she conceind
she overheard a noise as of buzzing and low-mut-
tered speech. Her heart palpitated; for a second
time she began to doubt the honesty of Grimes. The
suggestion was now more anxious than before ; but
it was too late. Presently she heard the sound of a
key in her chamber door, and the rustic made his
appearance. She started, and cried, Are we dis-
covered? did not I hear you speak ? Grimes ad-
vanced on tiptoe with his finger to his lip. No, no,
replied he, all is safe! He took her by the hand,
led her in silence out of the house, and then across
the garden. Emily examined with her eye the doors
and passages as they proceeded, and looked on all
sides with fearful suspicion, but every thing was as
vacant and still as she herself could have wished.
Grimes opened a back-door of the garden already
unlocked, that led into an unfrequented lane. There
stood two horses ready equipped for the journey, and
fastened by their bridles to a post not six yards dis-
tant from the garden. Grimes pushed the door after
them. By Gemini, said he, my heart was in my
mouth. As I comed along to you, I saw Mun.
coachey, pop along from the back-door to the sta-
bles. He was within a hop, step and jump of me.
But he had a lanthorn in his hand, and he did not
see me, being as I was darkling. Saying thus, he
assisted Miss Melvile to mount.--He troubled her
little during the route. On the contrary, he was re-
markably silent and conteniplative, a circumstance
by no means disagreeable to Emily, to whom his
conversation had never been acceptable.
After having proceeded about two miles, they
turned into a wood, through which the road led to
the place of their destination. The night was ex-
tremely dark, at the same time that the air was soft
and mild, it being now the middle of summer.
Under pretence of exploring the way, Grimes con-
trived. when they had already penetrated into the
midst of this gloomy solitude, to get his horse
abreast with that of Miss Melvile, and then, sud-
denly reaching out his hand, seized hold of her
bridle. I think we may as well stop here a bit,
said he.
Stop! exclaimed Emily with surprise. Why
should we stop ? Mr. Grimes, what do you mean?"
Come, come, said he never trouble yourself to


CALEB WILLIAMS.
81
wonder. Did yon think I were such a goose, to take
all this trouble merely to gratify your whim ? l'faith,
nohody shall find me a pack-horse, to go of other
folks' errands, without knowing a reason why. I
cannot say that I much vinded to have you at first;
but your ways are enough to stir the blood of my
grandad. Far fetched and dear hought is always re-
lishing. Your consent was so hard to gain, that squire
thought it was surest asking in the dark. A' said
; however a' would have no such doings in his house,
1 and so, do you see? we are comed bere.
For God's sake, Mr. Grimes, think what you are
about! You cannot be base enough to ruin a poor
creature who has put herself under your protection !
Ruin! no, no, I will make an honest woman of
you, when all is done. Nay, none of your airs ; no
tricks upon travellers! I have you here as safe as a
horse in a pound; there is not a house nor a shed
within a mile of us: and, if I miss the opportunity
call me spade. Faith, you are a delicate morsel, and
there is no time to be lost.!
Miss Melvile had but an instant in which to collect
her thoughts. She felt that there was little hope of
softening the obstinate and insensible brute in whose
power she was placed. But the presence of mind
and intrepidity annexed to her character, did not now
desert her. Grimes had scarcely finished his ha-
rangue, when with a strong and unexpected jerk she
disengaged the bridle from his grasp, and at the same
time put her horse upon full speed. She had scarce-
ly advanced twice the length of her horse, when
Grimes recovered from his surprise, and pursued her,
inexpressibly mortifyed at being so easily overreach-
ed. The sound of his horse behind served but to
rouse more completely the mettle of that of Emily:
whether by accident or sagacity the animal pursued
without a fault the narrow and winding way; and the
chace continued the whole length of the wood.
At the extremity of this wood there was a gate.
The recollection of this softened a little the cutting
disappointment of Grimes, as he thought himself se-
cure of putting an end by its assistance to the career
of Emily, nor was it very probable that they should
find any body to interrupt him in the dead and silence
of the night. By the most extraordinary accident
however they found a man on horseback in wait at
this gate. Help help! exclaimed the affrighted


82
ADVENTURES OF
Emily ; thieves! murder! help! The man was Mr.
Falkland. Grimes knew his voice, and therefore,
though he attempted a sort of sullen resistance, it was
feebly made. Two other men, whom by reason of
the darkness he had not at first seen, and who were
Mr. Falkland's servants, hearing the bustle of the re-
encounter, and alarmed for the safety of their mas-
ter, rode up; and then Grimes, disappointed at the
loss of his gratification, and admonished by conscious
guilt, shrunk from farther parley, and rode off in si-
lence.
It may seem strange that Mr. Falkland should thus
a second time have been the saviour of Miss Mel-
vile, and that under circumstances the most anex-
pected and singular. But in this instance it is easily
to be accounted for. He had heard of a man who
Jurked about this wood for robbery or some other had
design, and that it was conjectured this man was
Hawkins. Mr. Falkland's compassion had already
been strongly interested in behalf of this victim of ru-
ral tyranny; he had in vain endeavoured to find him
and do him good ; and he easily conceived that, is
the conjecture which had been made in this instance
proved true, he might have it in is power not only to
do what he had always intended, but further, to save
from a perilous offence against the laws and society,
a man who appeared to have strongly imbibed the
principles of justice and virtue. He took with him
two servants, because, going with the express design
of encountering robbers, if robbers should he founa,
he believed he should be inexcusable if he did not go
provided against possible accidents. But he had di.
rected them, at the same time that they kept within
call, to be out of the reach of being seen; and it was
only the eagerness of their zeal that had brought them
up thus early in the present encounter.
This new adventure promised something extra dr.
dinary. Mr. Falkland did not immediately recog-
nize Miss Melvile, and the person of Grimes was that
of a total stranger whom he did not recollect to have
ever seen. But it was easy to understand the merits of
the case, and the propriety of interfering. The re.
solute manner of Mr. Falkland, combined with the
dread which Grimes, oppressed with the sense of
wrong, entertained of the opposition of so elevated a
personage, speedily put the ravisher to flight. Emi.
ly was left alone with her deliverer. He found her


ADVENTURES OF
the young man at last appeared before him, more
dead than alive. Grimes he compelled to repeat
the particulars of the tale; which he had no sooner
done than he once again slunk away, shocked at the
execrations with which Mr. Tyrrel overwhelmed
him. Grimes was no coward ; but he reverenced
the inborn divinity that attends upon rank.as Indians
worship the devil. Nor was this all. The rage of
Mr. Tyrrel was so ungovernable and fierce, that few
hearts conld have been found so stoat as not to have
trembled before it with a sort of unconquerable infe.
riority.
• He ‘no sooner ohtained a moment's pause than he
began to recall to his tempestuous mind the various
circumstances of the case. His complaivis were bit-
ter; and in a tranquil observer might have produced
the united feeling of pity for his sufferings, and hor-
ror at his depravity. He recollected all the precau-
tions he had used; he could scarcely find a flaw in
the process; and he cursed that blind and malicious
power that delighted to cross his most deep laid de-
signs. Of this malice he was beyond all other human
beings the obiect. He was mocked with the shadow
of power; and when he lifted his hand to smite, it
was struck with sudden palsy. To what purpose had
heaven given him a feeling of injury and an instinct
to resent, while he could in no case make his resent-
ment felt! It was only necessary for him to be the
enemy of any person, in order to that person's being
insured against the reach of misfortune. What in
sults, the most shocking and repeated, had he not re-
ceived from this paltry girl! And by whom was she
now torn from his indignation ? By that devil that
haunted him at every moment, that crossed him at
every step, that fixed at pleasure bis arrows in his
heart, and made mows and mockery at his insuffer-
able tortures.
There was one other reflection that increased his
anguish, and made him careless and desperate as to
his future conduct. It was in vain to conceal from
himself that his reputation would be cruelly wounded
by this event. He had imagined that, while Emily
was forced into this odious marriage, she would be
obliged by decorum, as soon as the event was decid.
ed, to draw a veil over the compulsion she had suffer
ed. But this security was now lost, and Mr. Falk-
land would take a pride in publishing his dish nour.


CALEB WILLIAMS
85
'Though the provocations he had received from Miss
Melvile, would in his own opinion have justified him
in any treatment he should bave thought proper to
inflict, he was sensible the world would see the mat.
ter in a very different light. This reflection augment.
ed the violence of his resolutions, and determined
him to refuse no means by which he could transfer
the anguish that now preyed upon his own mind, to
that of another."
Meanwhile, the composure and magnanimity of
Emily had considerably subsided. the moment she
believed herself in a place of safety. While danger
and injustice assailed her with their menaces, she
found in herself a courage that disdained to yield.
The succeeding appearance of calm was 'more fatal
to her. There was nothing now powerfully to foster
her courage, or excite her energy. She looked back
at the trials she had passed, and her soul sickened at
the recollection of that which, while it was in act, she
had had the fortitude to endure. Till the period at
which Mr. Tyrrel had been inspired with this cruel
antipathy: she had been in all instances a stranger to
anxiety and fear. Uninored to misfortune, she had
suddenly and without preparation been made the sub-
ject of the most infernal malignity. When a man of
robust and vigorous constitution has a fit of sickness,
it produces a more powerful effect than the same in-
disposition upon a delicate valetudinarian. Such was
the case with Miss Melvile. She passed the soc-
ceeding night sleepless and uneasy, and was found
in the morning with a high fever. Her distemper re-
sisted for the present all attempts to assuage it, tho'
there was reason to hope that the goodness of her
constitution, assisted by tranquillity and the kind.
ness of those about her, would ultimately surmount it.
On the second day she was delirious. On the night
of that day she was arrested at the suit of Mr. Tyrrel
for a debt contracted for board and necessaries for
the last fourteen years.
The idea of this arrest, as the reader will perhaps
recollect, first occurred in the conversation between
Mr. Tyrrel and Miss Melvile soon after he had
thought proper to confine her to her chamber. But
at that time he had probably no serious conception of
ever being induced to carry it in execution. It had,
merely been mentioned by way of threat, and as the
suggestion of a mind whose habits had long been ac-


86
ADVENTURES OF
customed to contemplate every possible medium of
turanny and revenge. But now that the unlooked
for rescue and escape of his poor kinswoman had
wrought up his thoughts to a degree of insanity, and
that he revolved in the gloomy resources of nis mind
how he inight hest shake off the load of disappoint-
ment which oppressed him, the idea recurred with
double force. He was not long in forming his resom
lution ; and, calling for Barnes, his steward, immedi.
ately gave him directions in what manner to proceed.
· Barnes had been for several years the instrument
of Mr. Tyrrel's injustice. His mind was hardened
by use, and he could without remorse officiate as the.
spectator, or even as the author and director, of a
scene of vulgar distress. But even he was some-
what startled upon the present occasion. The cha-
racter and conduct of Emily ir Mr. Tyrrel's family
had been without a blot. She had not a single ene
my; and it was impossible to contemplate her youth,
her vivacity, and her guiłeless, innocence, without
emotions of sympathy and compassion.
. Your Worship?-I do not understand you !-Ar-,
rest Miss-Miss Emily!
Yes,--I tell you ! - What is the matter with you?
-Go instantly to Swineard, the lawyer, and bid him
finish the business out of hand!
Lord love your honor! Arrest her! Why, she does
not owe you a brass farthing ; she always lived upon
your charity!
Ass! Scoundrel! I tell you she does owe me:-
owes me eleven hundred pound.--The law jastifies it
-What do you think laws were made for ?I do
nothing but right, and right I will have.
· Your honour, I never questioned your orders in
my life ; but I must now. I cannot see you ruin
Miss Emily, poor girl! nay, and yourself too, for the
matter of that, and not say which way you are going.
I hope you will bear with me. Why, if she owed
you ever so much, she cannot be arrested. She is
not of age.
Will you have done ?-Do not tell me--of It can-
not, and It can. It has been done before, and it
shall be done again. Let him dispute it that dares !
I will do it now and stand to it afterwards. Tell
Swineard,--if he make the least boggling, it is as
much as is life is worth ;-he shall starve by inches.
Pray, your honour, think better of it. Upon my
life, the whole country will cry shame of it.





London, Published Sept 18, 1824, by S. Fisher.

W. Hopwood del
1. C Reynolds sculp.
Pay, your honour, said Barnes, think better on
it. Upon my life, the whole country will cry
shame on it.
Page 87


CALEB WILLIAMS
87
Barnes ! What do you mean? I am not used
to be talked to, and I cannot bear it! You have
been a good fellow to me upon many occasions.-But,
if I find you out for making one with them that dis-
pute my authority, vengeance fall'on me, if I do not
make you sick of your very life!
I have done, your honour. I will not say another
word, texcept this. I have heard as how that Miss
Emily is sick a-bed. You are determined, yon sa'y,
to put her in jail:- You do not mean to kill her Í
take it.
Let her die! I will not spare her for an hour.
I will not always be insulted. She had no consider-
ation for me, and I have no mercy for her.-I am in
for it! They have provoked me past bearing, and
they shall feel me! Tell Swineard, in bed or up,
day or night, I will not hear of an instant's delay.
Such were the directions of Mr. Tyrrel, and in
strict conformity to his directions, were the proceed-
ings of that respectable limb of the law he employed
upon the present ocoasion. Miss Melvile had been
delirious through a considerable part of the day on
the evening of which the hailiff and his follower ar-
rived. By the direction of the physician whom M.
Falkland had ordered to attend her a composing
draught was administered ; and, exhaustedas sie was
by the wild and distracted images that for several
hours had haunted her fancy, she was ’now sunk into
a refreshing slamber. Nrs. Hammond, the sister of
Mrs. Takeman, was sitting hy her bed side, full of
compassion for the lovely sofferer, and rejoicing in
the calm tranquillity that had just taken possession of
her, when a little girl, the only child of Mrs. Ham-
mond, opened the street door to the rap of the bailiff.
He said he wanted to speak with Miss Melvile, and
the child answered that she would go tell her mother.
So saying, she advanced to the door of the back-rooni
upon the ground floor, in which Emily lay; but the
moment it was opened, instead of waiting for the
appearance of the mother, the bailiff entered along
with the girl.
Mrs. Hammond looked up. Who are yon, said
she? Why do you come in here? Hush ! be quiet!
I must speak with Miss Melvile.
Indeed, but you must not. Tell me your husiness.
The poor lady has been light-headed all day. She
is just fallen asleep, and must not be disturbed.


*88
ADVENTURES OF
That is no business of mine. I must obey orders
Orders ? Whose orders? What is it yoa mear :
At this moment Emily opened her eyes. What
noise is that? I wish you would let me be quiet.
Miss, I want to speak with you. I have got a writ
against you for eleven hundred pound at the suit of
Squire Tyrrel.
At these words both Mrs. Hammond and Emily
were dumb. The latter was scarcely able to annex
any meaning to the intelligence; and, though Mrs.
Hammond was somewhat better acquainted with the
sort of language that was employed, yet in this strange
and unexpected connexion it was almost as mysteri-
ous to her, as to poor Emily herself.
A writ! How can she be in Mr. Tyrrel's debt ? A
writ against a child!
It is no signification putting your questions to us.
We only do as we are directed. There is our autho-
rity. Look at it.
Lord Almighty ! exclaimed Mrs. Hammond, what
does this mean? It is impossible Mr. Tyrrel should
have sent you.
Good woman, none of your jabber to us! Cannot
you read.
This is all a trick! This paper is forged! It is a
vile contrivance to get the poor lady out of the hands
of those with whom only she can be safe. Proceed
upon it at your peril!
Rest you content; that is exactly what we mean to
do. Take my word, we know very well what we are
about.
Why, you would not tear her from her bed ? I tell
you she is in a high fever ; she is light-headed: it
would be death to remove her! You are bailiffs, are
not you? You are not murderers ?
The law says nothing about that. We have orders
to take her sick or well. We will do her no harm;
except so far as we must perform our office, be it how
it will,
Where would you take her? What is it you mean
to do?
To the county jail. Bullock, go order a post-chaise
from the Griffin !
Stay, I say! Give no such orders! Wait only three
hours ; I will send off a messenger express to Squire
Falklard, and I am sure be will satisfy you as to any


CALEB WILLIAMS. '89
- harm that can come to you, without its being neces-
sary to take the poor lady to jail.
We have particular directions against that. We
are not at liberty to lose a minute. Why are not you
gone ? Order the horses to be put to immediately?
Emily had listened to the course of this conversa-
tion, which had sufficiently explained to her whatever
was enigmatical at the first appearance of the bailiffs.
The painful and incredible reality that was thus pre-
sented, effectually dissipated the illusions of frenzy
to which she had just been a prey. My dear madam,
said she to Mrs. Hammond, do not harrass yourself
with useless efforts. I am very sorry for all the trou-
ble I have given you. But my misfortune is inevitable.
Sir, if you will step into the next room, I will dress
myself, and attend you immediately.
Mrs. Hammond began to be equally aware that her
straggles were to no purpose ; but she could not be
equally patient. At one moment she raved upon the
brutality of Mr. Tyrrel, whom she affirmed to be a
devil incarnate, and not a man. At another she ex-
postulated with bitter invective against the hard-
heartedness of the bailiff, and exhorted him to mix
some humanity and moderation with the discharge of
his duty; but he was impenetrable to all she could
urge. 'In the mean while Emily yielded with the
sweetest resignation to an inevitable evil. Mrs.
Hammond insisted that at least they should permit
her to attend her young lady in the chaise; and the
bailiff, though the orders he had received were so pe-
remptory that he dared not exercise his discretion as
to the execution of the writ, began to have some ap-
prehensions of danger, and was willing to admit of
any precaution that was not in direct hostility to his
functions. For the rest he understood, that it was in
all cases dangerous to allow sickness, or apparent
umfitness for removal, as a sufficient cause to inter-
rupt a direct process, and that accordingly, in all
doubtful questions and presumptive murders, the
practice of the law inclined with a laudable partiality
to the vindication of its own officers. In addition to
these general rules he was influenced by the positive
injunctions and assurances of Swineard, and the ter-
ror which through a circle of many miles was annex-
ed to the name of Tyrrel. Before they depart d Mrs.
Hammond dispatched a messenger with a letter of
three lines to Mr. Falkland, informing him of this ex-


ADVENTURES OF
!
$
9
traordinary event. Mr. Falkland was from home
when the messenger arrived, and not expected to re-
turn till the second day; accident seeming in this in-
stance to favour the vengeance of Mr. Tyrrel, for he
had himself been too much under the dommion of an
uncontrolable fury to take a circumstance of this sort
into his estimate.
The forlorn state of these poor women, who were
conducted, the one by compulsion, the other a vo-
lunteer, to a scene so little adapted to their accom-
modation as that of a common jail, may easily be
imagined. Mrs. Hammond however was endowed
with a masculine courage and impetuosity of spirit,
eminently necessary in the difficulties they had to
encounter. She was in some degree fitted by a san-
guine temper, and an impassioned sense of injustice,
for the discharge of those very offices which sobriety
and calm reflection might have prescribed. The
health of Miss Melvile was very materially affected
by the surprise and removal she had undergone at
the very time that repose was most necessary for her
preservation. Her fever became more violent; her
delirium was stronger; and the tortures of her ima-
gination were proportioned to the unfavourable-ness
of the state in which the removal had been effected.
It was highly improbable that she could recover.
In the moments of suspended reason she was per-
petually calling on the name of Falklavd. Tvir. Falk-
land, she said, was her first and only love, and he
should be her husband. A moment after she explains-
ed upon him in a discorsolate, yet reproachful tone,
for his unworthy deference to the prejudices of the
world. It was very cruel of him to show himself so
proud, and tell her that he would never consent to
marry a beggar. But, if he were proud, she was
determined to be proud too. He should see that she
would not demean herself like a slighted maiden, and
that, thongh he could reject her, it was not in his
power to break her heart. At another tirae she ima-
gined she saw Mr. Tyrrel and his engine Grimes,
their hands and garments dropping with blood, and
the pathetic reproaches she vented against them
might have affected a heart of stone. Then the figure
of Falkland presented itself to her distracted fancy,
deformed with wounds and of a deadly paleness, and
she shrieked with agony, while she exclaimed that
such was the general hardheartedness, that no one
i


CALEB WILLIAMS.
91
would make the smallest exertion for his rescue. In
such vicissitudes of pain, perpetually imagining to
herself unkindnesy, insalt, conspiracy and murder,
she passed a considerable part of two days.
On the evening of the second, Mr. Falkland ar-
rived, accompanied by doctor Wilson, the physician
by whom she had previously been attended. The
scene he was called upon to witness was such as to
be most exqnisitely agonizing to a man of his acute
sensibility. The news of the arrest had given him an
inexpressible shock; he was transported out of bim-
self at the unexampled malignity of its author. But,
when he saw the figure of Miss Melvile, haggard,
and a warrant of death written in her countenance, a
victim to the diabolical passions of her kinsman, the
scene seemed too much to be endured. When he
entered, she was in the midst of one of her fits of
delirium, and immediately mistook her visitors for
two as sassins. She asked, where they had hid her
Falkland, her lord, her life, her husband! and de-
manded that they should restore to her his mangled
corpse, that she might embrace him with her dying
arms, breathe her last upon his lips, and be buried in
the same grave. She reproached them with the sor-
didness of their conduct in becoming the tools of her
vile cousin, who had deprived her of her reason, and
would never be contented till he had murdered her.
Mr, Falkland tore himself away from this painful
scene, and, leaving doctor Wilson with his patient,
desired him when he had given the necessary direc-
tions to follow him to his inn.
The perpetual hurry of spirits in which Miss. Mel.
vile had been kept for several days by the nature of
her indisposition, was extremely exhausting to her;
and in about an hour from the visit of Mr. Falkland
her deliriam subsided, and left her in so low a state
as to render it difficult to perceive any marks of life.
Doctor Wilson, who had withdrawn, to soothe, if
possible, the disturbed and impatient thoughts of Mr.
Falkland, was summoned afresh upon this change of
symptoms, and sat by the bed-side during the remain-
der of the night. The situation of his patient was
such as to keep him in momentary apprehension of
her decease. While Miss Melvile lay in this feeble
and exhausted condition, Mrs. Hammond betrayed
every token of the tenderest anxiety. Her sensibi.
lity was habitually of the acutest sort, and the qua-


92
ADVENTURES OF
lities of Emily were such as powerfully to fix her
affection. She loved her like a mother. Upon the
present occasion every sound, every motion made
her tremble. Doctor Wilson had introduced another
nurse in consideration of the incessant fatigue Mrs.
Hammond had undergone ; and he endeavoured by
representations, and even by authority, to compel her
to quit the apartment of the patient. But she was
uncontrolable; and he at length found that he should
probably do her more injury by the violence that
would be necessary to separate her from the suffer.
ing innocent, than by allowing her to follow her in-
clination. Her eye was a thousand times turned with
the most eager curiosity upon the countenance of
doctor \Vilson, without her daring to breathe a ques-
tion respecting his opinion, lest he should answer her
by a communication of the most fatal tidings. In the
mean time she listened with the deepest attention to
every thing that dropped either from the physician or
the nurse, hoping as it were to collect from some
oblique hint the intelligence which she had not cou-
rage expressly to require.
Towards morning the state of the patient seemed
to take a favourable turn. She dozed for near two
hours, and, when she awoke, appeared perfectly
calm and sensible. Understanding that Mr. Falk-
land had brought the physician to attend her, and
was himself in her neighbourhood, she requested to
see him. Mr. Falkland had gone in the mean time
with one of his tenants to bail the debt, and now
entered the prison to enquire whether the young lady
might be safely removed from her present miserable
residence to a more airy and commodious apartment.
When he appeared, the sight of him revived in the
mind of Miss Melvile an imperfect recollection of
the wanderings of her delirium. She covered her
face with her hand, and betrayed the most expres-
sive confusion, while she thanked him with her usual
unaffected implicity for the trouble he had taken.
She hoped she shonld not give him much inore; sho
thought she should get better. It was a shame, she
said, if a young and lively girl as she was, could not
contrive to outlive the trifling misfortunes to which
she had been subjected. But while she said this, she
was still extremely weak. She tried to assume a
cheerful countenance ; but it was a faint effort, which
the feeble state of her frame did not seem sufticient


CALEB WILLIAMS.
93
to support. Mr. Falkland and the doctor joined to
request her to keep herself quiet, and to avoid for
the present all occasions of exertion.
Encouraged by these appearances, Mrs. Hammond
ventured to follow the two gentlemen out of the room,
in order to learn from the physician what hopes he
entertained. Doctor Wilson acknowledged that he
had found his patient at first in a very unfavourable
sitaation, that the symptoms were changed for the
better, and that he was not without some expectation
of her recovery. He added, however, that he could
answer for nothing, that the next twelve hours would
be exceedingly critical, but that if she did not grow
worse before morning, he would then undertake to
answer for her life. Mrs. Hammond, who had bi.
therto seen nothing but despair, now became frantic
with joy. She burst into tears of transport, blessed
the physician in the most emphatic and impassioned
terms, and uttered a thousand extravagancies. Doc-
tor Wilson seized this opportunity to press her to give
herself a little repose, to which she consented, a bed
being first procured for her in the room next to Miss
Melvile's, and she having charged the nurse to give
her notice of any alteration in the patient
Mrs. Hammond enjoyed an interrupted sleep of
several hours. It was already night, when she was
awaked by an unusual bustle in the next room. She
listened for a few moments, and then determined to
go and discover the occasion of it. As she opened
her door for that purpose, she met the nurse coming
to her. The countenance of the messenger told her
what it was she had to communicate, without the use
of words. She hurried to the bed side, and found
Miss Melvile expiring. The appearances that had at
first been so encouraging, were of short duration.
The calm of the morning proved to be only a sort of
lightning before death. In a few hours the patient
grew worse. The bloom of her countenance faderl;
sne drew her breath with difficulty; and her eyes be.
came fixed. Dr. Wilson came in at this period, and
immediately perceived that all was over. She was
for some time in convulsions ; bat, these subsiding,
she addressed the physician with a composed, though
feeble voice. She thanked him for his attention; and
expressed the most lively sense of her obligations to
Mr Falkland. She sincerely forgave her cousin,
and hoped he might never be visited by too acute a
0


94
ADVENTURES OF
recollection of his barbarity to her. She would have
been contented to live ; few persons had a sincerer
relish of the good things of life; but she was well
pleased to die rather than have become the wife of
Grimes. As Mrs. Hammond entered, she turned
her countenance towards her, and with an affection-
ate expression repeated her name. These were her
last words ; in less than two hours from that time she
breathed her last in the arms of this faithful friend.
Such was the fate of Miss Emily Melvile. Per-
haps tyranny never exhibited a more painful memo-
rial of the detestation in which it deserves to be
.held. The idea irresistibly excited in every specta-
tor of the scene, was that of regarding Mr. Tyrrel
as the most diabolical wretch that had ever dishonor.
ed the human form. The very attendants upon this
house of oppression, for the scene was acted upon
too public a stage not to be generally understood, ex
pressed their astonishment and disgust at his unpa-
ralleled cruelty. If such were the feelings of men
bred to the commission of injustice, it is difficult to
say what must have been those of Mr. Falkland.
His whole life had tended to cultivate in him a mind
tremblingly alive to moral good and evil. Upon such
occasions he was unable maturely to collect his
thoughts, and firmly resolve upon the proceeding
which the nature of the case required. His habits
urged him to madness and ungovernable fury. He
could not think of such complicated depravity but
with sentiments of preternatural loathing and horror.
Perhaps the agonies of the wretch broken upon the
wheel, whom the very first sight of the engine of tor-
ture had thrown into convulsions, did not exceed
those of Mr. Falkland in the present situation. He
was therefore deprived for a time of all that compo
sure of mind which is requisite to enable us to act
with discretion. It was necessary to gnard him lik
a madman. The whole office of judging what was
proper to be done under the present circumstances
devolved upon Doctor Wilson.
The Doctor was a man of cool and methodical ha-
bits of acting. One of the first ideas that suggested
itself to him was, that Miss Melvile was a branch of
the family of Tyrrel. He did not doubt of the wil-
lingness of Mr. Falkland to discharge every expence
that might be farther incident to the melancholy re.
mains of this upfortunate victim ; but he conceived


CALEB WILLIAMS.
95
that the laws of fashion and decorum required
some notification of the event to be made to the head
of the family. Perhaps too he had an eye to his in-
terest in his profession, and was relnctant to expose
himself to the resentment of a person of Mr. T'yrrel's
consideration in the neighbourhood. But, with this
weakness, he had nevertheless some feelings in
common with the rest of the world, and must have
suffered considerable violence before he could have
persuaded himself to be the messenger; beside
which, he did not think it right in the present situa-
tion to leave Mr. Falkland.
Doctor Wilson no sooner mentioned these ideas,
than they seemed to make a sudden impression on
Mrs. Hammond, and she earnestly requested that
she might be permitted to carry the intelligence.
The proposal was anexpected ; but the doctor did
not very obstinately refuse his assent. She was de-
termined, she said, to see what sort of impression
the catastrophe would make upon the author of it;
and she promised to comport herself with moderation
and civility. The journey was soon performed.
I am come, sir, said she to Mr. Tyrrel, to inform you
that your cousin, Miss Melvile, died this afternoon.
Died? Yes, sir, I saw her die. She died in my arms.
Died? Who killed her ? What do you mean?
Who killed her? Is it for you to ask that question ?
It was your cruelty and malic- that killed her!
Me ?-my?-Poh! she is not dead-it cannot be
-it is not a week since she left this house.
Will you not believe me? I say she is dead !
Have a care, woman! this is no matter for jesting.
No: though she used me ill, I would not believe her
dead for all the world!
Mrs. Hammond shook her head in token of the
truth of her assertion.
No, no, no, no! I will never believe that!
No, never:
Will you come with me, and convince your own
eyes ? It is a sight worthy of you, and will be a feast
to such a heart as yours !-Saying this, Mrs. Hammond
offered her hand, as if to conduct him to the spot.
Mr. Tyrrel shrunk back.
If she he dead, what is that to me? Am I to an-
swer for every thing that goes wrong in the world ?--
What do you come here for ? Why bring your més-
sages to me?






London, Published tug. 20, 1824, by S. Fisher
W. Hopwood, det
7. Reis, seien
All the world will abhor and curse you , said
M. Hammond, I tell you, Sir, she is dead
you have Murdered the sweetest Lady that live
Page 96.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
97
his situation. Accustomed as he had been to the
cbedience and trembling homage of mankind, he had
imagined they would be perpetual, and that no ex-
ces on his part would ever be potent enough to break
the enchantment. Now he looked round and saw
suller detestation in every face, which with difficulty
restrained itself, and upon the slightest provocation
broke forth with an impetuous tide, and swept away
the mounds of subordination and fear. His large
estate could not purchase civility from the gentry, the
peasantry, scarcely from his own servants. In the
indignation of all around him he found a ghost that
haunted him with every change of place, and a re-
morse that stung his conscience and exterminated
his peace. The neighbourhood appeared more and
more every day to be growing too hot for him to en-
dure, and it became evident that he would ultimately
be obliged to quit the country. Urged by the flagi-
tiousness of this last example, people learned to re-
collect every other instance of his excesses, and it
was no doubt a fearful catalogue that rose up in judg.
ment against him. It seemed as if the sense of pub-
fic resentment had long been gathering strength un-
perceived, and now burst forth into insuppressible
violence.
There was scarcely a human being upon whom this
sort of retribution could have sat more painfully than
upon Mr. Tyrrel. Though he had not a conscious-
ness of innocence prompting him continually to re-
coil from the detestation of mankind as a thing to-
tally unallied to his character, yet the imperiousness
of his temper, and the constant experience he had
had of the pliability of other men, prepared him to
feel the general and undisguised condemnation into
which he was sunk, with uncommon emotions of an-
ger and impatience. That he, at the beam of whose
eye every countenance fell, and to whom in the fierce-
ness of his wrath no one was daring enough to reply,
should now be regarded with avowed dislike and
Created with unceremonious censare, was a thing he
ould not endore to recollect or believe. Srmptoms
f the universal disgust smote him at every instant,
and at every blow he writhed with intolerable an-
goish. His rage was unbounded and raving. He re-
pelled every attack with the fiercest indignation;
while the more he struggled, the more desperate his
situation appeared to become. At length he deter-


98
ADVENTURES OF
mined to collect his strength for a decisive effort, anů
to meet the whole tide of public opinion 171 ð single
scene.
In pursuance of these thonghts he resolved to re-
pair, without delay, to the rural assembly which I
have already mentioned in the course of my story.
Miss Melvile had now been dead one month. Mr.
Falkland had been absent the last week in a distant
part of the country, and was not expected to return
for a week longer. Mr. 'Tyrrel willingly embraced.
the opportunity, trusting that, if he coald now effect
his ré-estalılishment, he should easily preserve the
ground he had gained even in the face of his most
formidable rival. Mr. Tyrrel was certainly not de-
ficient in courage ; but he conceived the present to
be too important an epocha in his life to allow him to
make an unnecessary risk in his chance for future
ease and importance.
There was a sort of bustle that took place at his
entrance into the assembly, it having been agreed by
the gentlemen of the assembly that Mr. Tyrrel was
to he refused admittance, as a person with whom
they did not choose to associate. This vote had al-
ready been notified to him by letter, by the master
of the ceremonies, but the intelligence was rather
calculated with a man of Mr. Tyrrei's disposition to
excite defiance than to overawe. At the door of the
assembly he was personally met hy the master of the
ceremonies, who had perceived the arrival of an
equipage, and who now endeavoured to repeat his
prohibition ; but he was thrust aside by Mr. Tyrrel
with an air of native authority and ineffable contempt
As he entered, every eye was turned upon him.
Presently all the gentlemen in the room assembled
round him. Some endeavoured to hustle him, and
others began to expostulate. But he found the secret
effectually to silence the one set, and to shake off the
other. His muscular form, the well-known emi-
nence of his intellectual powers, the long habits to
which every man was formed of acknowledging his
ascendancy, were all in his favonr. He considered
himself as playing a desperate stake, and had roused
all the energies he possessed to enable him to do
justice to so interesting a transaction. Disengaged
from the insects that had at first pestered him, he
paced up and down the room with a magisterial stride,
and flashed an angry glance on every side. He then


CALEB WILLIAMS.
broke silence. “If any one had any thing to say to
him, he should know where and how to answer him.
He would advise any such person, however, to cop-
sider well what he was about. If any man imagined
he had any thing personally to complain of, it was
very well. But he did expect that nobody there would
be ignorant and rasv enough to meddle with what was
no business of theirs, and intrude into the concerns
of any man's private family"
This being a sort of defiance, one and another gen-
tleman advanced to answer it. He that was first be.
gan to speak; hut Mr. Tyrrel, by the expression of
his countenance and a peremptory tone, by well-
timed interruptions and pertinent insinuations, caused
him first to hesitate, and then to be silent. He seemed
to be fast advancing to the triumph he had promised
himself. The whole company were astonished. They
felt the same abhorrence and condemnation of his
character; but they could not help admiring the cou-
rage and resonrces he displayed upon the present
occasion. They could without difficulty have con-
centred afresh their indignant feelings, but they
seemed to want a leader.
At this critical moment Mr. Falkland ente ed the
room. Mere accident had enabled him to return
sooner than he expected.
Both he and Mr. Tyrrel reddened at sight of each
other. He advanced towards Mr. Tyrrel without a
rooment's pause, and in a peremptory voice asked
im, What he did there?
Here? What do you mean by that? This place is
s free to me as you, and you are the last person
o whom I shall deign to give an account of myself.
Sir, the place is not free to you. Do not you know
you have been voted out? Whatever were your
nghts, your infamous conduct has forfeited them.
Mr. what do you call yourself, if you have any
tling to say to me, choose a proper time and place.
Do not think to put on your bullying airs onder shel-
ter of this company! I will not endure it.
Yon are mistaken, sir. This public scene is the
mly place where I can have any thing to say to you.
If you would not hear of the universal indignation
of mankind, you must not come into the society of
men.-Miss Melvile !-shame upon yon, inhuman,
nurcleuting tyrant! Can you hear her name, and not
sink into the earth? Can you retire into solitude, and
784045A


100
ADVENTURES OF
not see her pale and patient ghost rising to reproach
you? Can you recollect her virtues, her innocence,
her spotless manners, her unresentful temper, and
not run distracted with remorse? Have you not killed
her in the first bloom of her youth? Can you bear
to think that she now lies mouldering in the grave
through your cursed contrivance, that deserved a
crown, ten thousand times more than you deserve to
live ? And do you expect that mankind will ever for
get, or forgive such a deed ? Go miserable wretch;
think yourself too happy that you are permitted to
fly the face of man! Why, what a pitiful figure do
you make at this moment! Do you think that any
thing could bring so hardened a wretch as you are,
to shrink from reproach, if your conscience were
not in confederacy with them that reproached you?
And were you fool enough to believe that any obsti.
nacy however determined could enable you to de-
spise the keen rebuke of justice ? Go, shrink into
your miserable self! Begone, and let me never be
blasted with your sight again!
And here, incredible as it may appear, Mr. Tyrrel
began to obey his imperious censurer. His looks
were full of wildness and horror; his limbs trembled;
and his tongue re used its office. He felt no power
of resisting the impetuous torrent of reproach that
was poured upon him. He hesitated; he was asha-
med of his own defeat; he seemed to wish to deny
it. But his struggles were ineffectual: every attempt
perished in the moment it was made. The general
voice was eager to abash him. As his confusion be-
came more visible, the outcry increased. It swelled
gradually to hootings, tumult, and a deafening noise
of indignation. At length he willingly retired from
the public scene, unable any longer to endure the
sensations it inflicted.
In about an hour and a half he returned. No pre-
caution had been taken against this incident, for
nothing could be more unexpected. In the interval
he had intoxicated himself with large draughts of
brandy. In a moment he was in a part of the room
where Mr. Palkland was standing, and with one
blow of his muscular arm levelled him with the earth.
The blow however was not stunning, and Mr. Falke
land rose again immediately. It is obvious to per-
ceive how unequal he must have been to this species
of contest. He was scarcely risen, before Mr. Tyr-


CALER WILLIAMS.
101
-rel repeated his blow. Mr. Falkland was now upon
his guard, and did not fall. But the blows of his
adversary were redoubled with a rapidity difficult to
conceive, and Mr. Falkland was once again brought
to the earth. In this situation Mr. Tyrrel kicked his
prostrate enemy, and stooped apparently with the in-
tention of dragging him along the floor. All this
passed in a moment, and the gentlemen present had
not time to recover their surprise. They now interfered,
and Mr. Tyrrel once more quitted the apartment.
It is difficult to conceive any event more terrible
to the individual upon whom it fell, than the treat-
ment which Mr.Falkland in this instance experienced.
Every passion of his life was calculated to make him
feel it more acutely. He had repeatedly exerted an
uncommon energy and prudence to prevent the mis-
understanding between Mr. Tyrrel and himself from
proceeding to extremities; but in vain! It was closed
with a catastrophe exceeding all that he had feared,
or that the most penetrating foresight could have sug-
gested. To Mr. Falkland disgrace was worse than
death. The slightest breath of dishonour would have
stung him to the very soul. What must it have been with
this complication of ignominy, base, humiliating and
public ? Could Mr. Tyrrel have understood the evil
he inflicted, even he, under all his circumstances of
provocation, could scarcely have perpetrated it. Mr.
Falkland's mind must have been full of uproar like
the war of contending elements, and of such suffering
as casts contempt on the refinements of inventive
cruelty. He wished no doubt for annihilation, to lie
down in eternal oblivion, in an insensibility, which
compared with what he experienced was scarcely less
enviable than beatitude itself. Horror, detestation,
revenge, inexpressible longings to shake off the evil,
and a persuasion that in this case all effort was pow-
erless, must have filled his soul even to bursting.
One other event closed the transactions of this me-
morable evening. Mr. Falkland was baffled of the
vengeance that yet remained to him. Mr. Tyrrel
was found by some of the company dead in the street,
having been murdered at the distance of a few yards
from the assembly house.
I shall endeavour to state the remainder of this
narrative in the words of Mr. Collins. The reader
has already had occasion to perceive that Mr. Collins
-
-
--
--
-
E


102
ADVENTURES OF
was a man of no vulgar order; and his reflections on
this subject were uncommonly judicious.
“This day was the crisis of Mr. Falkland's history.
From hence took its beginning that gloomy and no-
sociahle melancholy of which he has since been the
victim. No two characters can be in certain respects
more strongly contrasted, than the Mr. Falkland of
a date prior and subsequent to these events. Hitherto
he had been attended by a fortune perpetually pros.
perous. His mind was sanguine ; full of that un-
doubting .confidence in its own powers which pros-
perity is qualified to produce. Though the habits "f
his life were those of a serious and sublime visionar,
they were nevertheless full of cheerfulness and trai-
quillity. But from this moment his pride and the lof y
adventurousness of his spirit were effectually sub-
dued. From an object of envy he was changed into
an object of compassion. Life, which hitherto no
one had more exquisitely enjoyed, became a burthen
to him. No more self-complacency, no more rap
ture, no more self-approving and heart-transporting
benevolence ! He, who had lived beyond any man
upon the grand and animating reveries of the imagi-
nation, seemed now to have no visions but of anguish
and despair. His case was peculiarly worthy op
sympathy, since no doubt, if rectitude and purity of
disposition could give a title to happiness, few men
could exhibit a more consistent and powerful claim
than Mr. Falkland.
“He was too deeply pervaded with the idle and
groundless romances of chivalry ever to forget the
situation, humiliating and dishonourable according
to his ideas, in which he had been placed upon this
occasion. There is a mysterious sort of divinity an-
nexed to the person of a true knight, that makes any
species of brute violence committed upon it indelible
and immortal. To be knocked down, cuffed, kicked,
dragged along the floor! sacred heaven, the memory
of such a treatment was intolerable! No future lus-
tration could ever remove the stain: and, what was
perhaps still worse in the present case, the offender
having ceased to exist, the lustration which the laws
of knight errantry prescribe was rendered impossible:
“In some future period of human improvement it
is probable that that calamity will be in a manner
· unintelligible, which in the present instance contri-


GALEB WILLIAMS. 108;
buted to tarnish and wither the excellenoe of one of
the most elevated and amiable of human minds. If
Mr. Falkland had reflected with perfect accuracy
upon the case, he would probably have been able to
look down with inditference upon a wound, whichi.
as it was, pierced to his very vitale. How much
more dignity than in the modern duellist do we find
in Themistocles, the inost gallant of the Greeks ;
who, when Eurybiades, his commander in chief, in
answer to some of his remonstrances, lifted his cane
over him with a menacing air, accosted him in that
noble apostrophe, Strike, but hear ?
“How would a man of true discernment in such
a case reply to his brutal assailant? “I make it my
boast that I can endure calamity and pain : shall I
not be able to endure the trifling inconvenience that
your folly can inflict upon me? Perhaps a human
being would be more accomplished, if he understood
the science of personal defence ; but how few would
be the occasions upon which he wonld be called to
exert it? How few persons would he encounter so
unjust and injurious as you, if his own conduct were
directed by the principles of reason and benevolence ?
Beside, how narrow would be the use of this science,
when acquired ? It will scareely put the man of deli-
cate make and petty stature upon a level with the
athletic pugilist; and, if it did in some measure se.
cure me against the malice of a single adversary,
still my person and my life, so far as mere force is
concerned, would always be at the mercy of two
Further than immediate defence against actual vio-
lence, it could never be of use to me. The man whu
can deliberately, meet bis adversary for the purpose
of exposing the person of one or both of them to in-
jury, tramples. upon every principle of reason and
equity. Duelling is the vilest of all egotism, treating
the public, which has a claim to all my powers and
exertions, as if it were nothing, and myself, or ra-
ther an upintelligible chimera 1 annex to myself, as
if it were entitled to any exclusive attention. I am
unable to cope with you: what then? Can that cir-
cumstance dishonour me? No; I can only be disho-
noured by perpretating an unjust action. My honour
is in my own keeping, beyond the reach of all man-
kind.' Strike! I am passive. No injury that you can
inflict shall provoke me to expose you or myself to
unnecessary evil. I refuse that; but I am not there.


104
ADVENTURES OF
fore pusillanimous: when I refuse any danger or suf-
fering by which the general good may be promoted,
then brand me for a coward!
“These reasonings, however simple and irresisti-
ble they must be found by a dispassionate enquirer, are
little reflected on by the world at large, and were most
of all uncongenial to the prejudices of Mr. Falkland.
“But the public disgrace and chastisement that had
been imposed upon him, intolerable as they were to
be recollected, were not the whole of the mischief
that redounded to our unfortunate patron from the
transactions of that day. It was presently whispered
that he was no other than the murderer of his antago
nist. This rumour was of too much importance to
the very continnance of his life, to justify its being
concealed from him. He heard it with inexpressible
astonishment and horror; it formed a dreadful addi.
tion to the load of intellectual anguish that already
oppressed him. No man had ever held his reputatiun
more dear than Mr. Falkland ; and now in one day
he was fallen under the most exquisite calamities, a
complicated personal insult, and the imputation of
the foulest of crimes. He might have fled; for no
one was forward to proceed against a man so adored
as Mr. Falkland, or in revenge of one so universally
execrated as Mr. Tyrrel. But flight he disdained.
In the mean time the affair was of the most serious
magnitude, and the rumour unchecked seemed daily
to increase in strength. Mr. Falkland appeared
sometimes inclined to adopt such steps as might have
been best calculated to bring the imputation to a
speedy trial. But he probably feared, by to direct
an appeal to judicature to render more precise an im-
putation, the memory of which he deprecated ; at
the same time that he was sufficiently willing to meet
the severest scrutiny, and, if he could not hope to
have it forgotten that he had ever been accused, w
prove in the most satisfactory manner that the acru-
sation was unjust.
“The neighbouring magistrates at length icon-
ceived it necessary to take some steps upon the sub-
ject. Without causing Mr. Falkland to be appre-
hended, they sent to desire he would appear before
them at one of their meetings. The proceeding being
thus opened, Mr. Falkland expressed his hope that,
if the business were likely to stop there, their in-
vestigation might at least be rendered as solemn as


CALEB WILLIAMS.
105
possible. The meeting was numerous ; every per-
son of a respectable class in society, was admitted
to be an auditor; the whole town, one of the most
considerable in the county, was apprised of the na-
ture of the business. Few trials, invested with all
the forms of judgment, have excited so general an
interest. A trial, under the present circumstances,
was scarcely attainable ; and it seemed to be the
wish both of principal and umpires, to give to this
transaction all the momentary notoriety and deci-
siveness of a trial.
The magistrates investigated the particulars of the
story. Mr. Falkland, it appeared, had left the
rooms immediately after his assailant; and, though
he had been attended by one or two of the gentlemen
to his inn, it was proved that he had left them upon
some slight occasion as soon as he arrived at it, and
that, when they enquired for him of the waiters, he
had already mounted his horse and rode home..
" By the nature of the case, no particular facts
conld he stated in balance against these. As soon
as they had been sufficiently detailed, Mr. Falkland
therefore proceeded to his defence. Several copies
of this defence were made, and Mr. Falkland
seemed for a short time to have had the idea of send-
ing it to the press, though for some reason or other
he afterwards suppressed it. I have one of the co-
pies in my possession, and I will read it to you."
Saying this, Mr. Collins rose, and took it from a
private drawer in his escritoire. During this action,
he appeared to recollect himself. He did not, in the
strict side of the word, hesitate ; but he was
prompted to make some apology for what he was
doing.
“ You seem never to have heard of this memora-
ble transaction; and indeed that is little to be won-
dered at, since the good nature of the world is in-
terested in suppressing it, and it is deemed a dis-
grace to a man to have defended himself from a cri-
minal imputation, though with circumstances the
most satisfactory and honourable. It may be sup-
posed that this suppression is particularly acceptable
to Mr. Falkland; and I should not have acted in
contradiction to his modes of thinking in communi-
cating the story to you, had there not been circum-
stances of peculiar urgency that seemed to render


ADVENTURES OF
the communication desirable.” Saying this, he pro.
ceeded to read from the paper in his hand.
“ Gentlemen,- stand here accused of a crime
the most black that any human creature is capable of
perpetrating. I am innocent. I have no fear that I
shall fail to make every person in this company ac-
knowledge my innocence. In the mean time what
must be my feelings ? Conscious as I am of deserv-
ing approbation and not censure, of having passed
my life in acts of justice and philanthropy, can any
thing be more deplorable than for me to answer to a
charge of murder ? So wretched is my situation,
that I cannot accept your gratuitous acquittal, if you
should be disposed to bestow it. I must answer to
an imputation, the very thought of which is ten
thousand times worse to me than death. I must ex-
ert the whole energy of my mind to prevent my
being ranked with the vilest of men.
“ Gentlemen, this is a situation in which a man
may be allowed to boast. Accursed situation! No
man need envy me the vile and polluted triumph I am
now to gain ! I have called no witnesses to my cha-
racter. Great God! what sort of character is that
which must be supported by witnesses ? But, if I
must speak, look round the company, ask of every
one present, enquire of your own hearts ! Not one
word of reproach was ever whispered against my
character. I do not hesitate to call upon these who
have known me most to afford me the most honour-
able testimony..
“ My life has been spent in the keepest and most
unintermitted sensibility to reputation. I am almost
indifferent as to what shall be the event of this day.
I would not open my mouth upon the occasion, if my
life were the only thing that was at stake. It is not
in the power of your decision to restore to me my
unblemished reputation, to obliterate the disgrace )
have suffered, or to prevent it from being remem
bered that I have been brought to examination upon
a charge of murder. Your decision can never have
the efficacy to prevent the miserable remains of my
existence from being the most intolerable of all
burthens.
“ I am accused of having committed murder upon
the body of Barnabas Tyrrel. I would most joyfully
have given every farthing. I possess, and devoted
DO
ant


CALEB WILLIAMS.
107
--
myself to perpetual beggary, to have preserved his
i life. His life was precious to me, beyond that of all
mankind. In my opinion, the greatest injustice com-
mitted by his unknown assassin was that of defraud-
ing me of my just revenge. I confess that I would
have called him out to the field, and that our en-
counter should not have been terminated hut by the
death of one or both of us. This would have been a
pitiful and inadequate compensation for his unparal-
leled insult, but it was all that remained.
“ I ask for no pity, but I must openly declare that
never was any misfortune so horrible as mine. I
would willingly have taken refuge from the recol-
lection of that night in a voluntary death. Life was
now stripped of all those recommendations for the
sake of which it was dear to me. But even this
consolation is denied me. I am compelled to drag
for ever the intolerable load of existence, upon pen-
alty, if at any period, however remote, I shake it
off, of having that impatience regarded as confirming
a charge of murder. Gentlemen, if by your deci-
sion you could take away my life, without that act
being connected with my disgrace, I would bless the
cord that suspended the hreath of my existence for
ever.
“You all know how easily I might have fled from
this purgation. If I had heen guilty, should I not
have embraced the opportunity? But, as it was, I
could not. Reputation has been the idol, the jewel
of my life. I could never have horne to think that a
human creature in the remotest part of the globe
should believe that I was a criminal. Alas! what a
deity it is that I have chosen for my worship! I have
entailed upon myself everlasting agony and despair!
“I have but one word to add. Gentlemen, I
charge you to do me the imperfect justice that is in
your power! My life is a worthless thing. Put my
honour, the paltry remains of honour I have now to
boast, is in your judgment, and you will each of you,
from this day, have imposed upon yourselves the task
of its vindicators. It is little that you can do for me;
hat it is not less your duty to do that little. May that
God who is the fountain of honour and good, prosper
and protect you! The man who now stands before
you is devoted to perpetual barrenness and blast!
He has nothing to hope for beyond the feeble conso-
lation of this day!"


108
ADVENTURES OF
“You will easily imagine that Mr. Falkland was
discharged with every circumstance of hononr.
Nothing is more to be deplored in human institutions
than that the ideas of mankind should have annexed
a sentiment of disgrace, to a purgation thus satisfac.
tory and decisive. No one entertained the shadow
of a doubt upon the subject, and yet a mere concur-
rence of circumstances, made it necessary that the
best of men should be publicly put upon his defence.
as if really under suspicion of an atrocious crime.
It may be granted indeed that Mr. Falkland had his
faults, but those very faults placed him at a still fur-
ther distance from the criminality in question. He,
was the fool of honour and fame; a man whom in
the pursuit of reputation nothing could divert; who
would have purchased the character of a true, gal-
lant and undaunted hero at the expence of worlds,
and who thought every calamity nominal but a stain
upon his honour. How atrociously absurd to suppose
any motive capable of inducing such a man to play
the part of a lurking assassin? How unfeeling to
oblige him to defend himself from such an imputa.
tion? Did any man, and least of all a man of the
purest honour, ever pass in a moment from a life an-
stained hy a single act of injury to the consummation
of human depravity ?
« When the decision of the magistrates was de.
clared, a general murmur of applause and involun-
tary transport burst forth from every one present. It
was at first low, and gradually became louder. As
it was the expression of rapturous delight and an
emotion disinterested and divine, so there was an
indescrihable something in the very sound, that car-
ried it home to the heart, and convinced every spec-
tator that there was no merely personal pleasure
which ever existed, that would not be foolish and
feeble in the comparison. Every one strove who
should most express his esteem of the amiable ac-
cused. Mr. Falkland was no sooner withdrawn,
than the gentlemen present determined to give a stilí
further sanction to the business by their congratula-
tions. They immediately named a deputation to
wait upon him for that purpose. Every one concur-
red to assist the general sentiment. It was a sort of
sympathetic feeling that took hold upon all ranks and
degrees. The multitude received him with huzzas,
.


CALEB WILLIAMS. 109
and was
honan.
Situtions
nered
atisfac
Shadow
concut-
hat the
Ejenee.
crime.
sad his
. He
om in
- who
gal
-rids. •
stain
pose
play!
ng to
puta
the
they took his horses from his carriage, dragged him
in triumph, and attended him many miles in his re-
turn to his own habitation. It seemed as if a public
examination upon a criminal charge, which had hi-
therto heen considered in every event as a brand of
disgrace, was converted in the present instance into
an occasion of enthusiastic adoration and unex-
ampled honour.
« Nothing could reach the heart of Mr. Falkland.
He was not insensible to the general kindness and
exertions ; but it was too evident that the melan-
choly that had taken hold of his mind was in-
vincible.
“It was only a few weeks after this memorable
scene that the real murderer was discovered. Every
part of this story was extraordinary. The real mur-
derer was Hawkins. He was found with his son
under a feigned name at a village at about thirty
miles distance, in want of all the necessaries of
life. He had lived here from the period of his flight
in so private a manner, that all the enquiries that had
been set on foot by the benevolence of Mr. Falkland
or the insatiable malice of Mr. Tyrrel had been insuf-
ficient to discover him. The first thing that had led
to the detection was a parcel of clothes covered with
blood that were found in a ditch, and which, when
drawn out, were known by the people of the village
to belong to this man. The murder of Mr. Tyrrel
was not a circumstance that could be unknown, and
suspicion was immediately roused. A diligent search
being made, the rusty handle with part of the blade
of a knife was found thrown in a corner of his lodiya
ing, which being applied to a piece of the point of a
knife that had been broken in the wound, appeared
exactly to correspond. Upon further enquiry, two
rustics, who had been accidentally on the spot, re-
membered to have seen Hawkins and his son in the
town that very evening, and to have called after
them, and received no answer, thongh they were
sure of their persons. Upon this accumulated evi-
.dence both Hawkins and his son were tried, con-
demned, and afterwards executed. In the interval
between the sentence and execution, Hawkins con-
fessed his guilt, with many marks of compunction ;
though there are persons by whom this is denied;
but I have taken some pains to enquire into the fact,
tion
de.
- It
an
ar-
ure
and
sho
aco
WD,
still
ula-
to
cur-
4 of
and
zas,


110
ADVENTURES OF
and am persuaded that their disbelief is precipitate
and groundless.
“ The cruel injustice that this man had suffered
from his village tyrant, was not forgotten upon the
present occasion. It was by a strange fatality that
the barbarous proceedings of Mr. Tyrrel seemed
never to fall short of their completion; and even his
death served eventually to consummate the ruin of a
man he hated, a circumstance which, if it could have
come to his knowledge, would perhaps have, in some
measure, consoled him for his untimely end. This
poor Hawkins was surely entitled to some pity, since
his being finally urged to desperation, and brought,
together with his son, to an ignominious fate, was
originally owing to the sturdiness of his virtue and
independence. But the compassion of the public
was in a great measure shut against him, as they
thought it a piece of barbarous and unpardonable
selfishness, that he had not rather come boldly for-
ward to ineet the consequences of his own conduct,
than suffer a man of so much public worth as Mr.
Falkland, and who had been so desirous of doing
him good, to be exposed to the risk of being tried
for a murder that he had committed.
“ From this time to the present, Mr. Falkland has
been nearly such as you at present see him. Though
it be several years since these transactions, the im-
pression they made is for ever fresh in the mind of
our unfortunate patron. From thenceforward his
habits became totally different. He had before been
fond of public scenes, and acting a part in the midst
of the people among whom he immediately resided.
He now made himself a rigid recluse. He had no
associates, no friends. Inconsolable himself, he
yet wished to treat others with kindness. There
was a solemn sadness in his manner, attended with
the most perfect gentleness and humanity. Every
body respects him, for bis benevolence is unalter.
able; but there is a stately coldness and reserve in
his behaviour, which makes it difficult for those
about him to regard him with the familiarity of af-
fection. These symptoms are uninterrupted, except
at certain times when his sufferings become in
able, and he displays the marks of a furious insanity.
At those times his language is fearful and mysterious,
and he seems to figure to himself by turns every
le.
Mtoler.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
sort of persecntion and alarm which may be sup-
posed to attend upon an accusation of murder. But,
sensible of his own weakness, he is anxious at such
times to withdraw into solitude ; and his domestics in
general know nothing of him bat the uncommnnica-
tive and haaghty, but mild dejection that accompanies
every thing he does.”
· I have stated the narrative of Mr. Collins, inter-
spersed with such other information as I was able to
collect, with all the exactness that my memory, as
sisted by certain memorandums I made at the time,
will afford. I do not pretend to warrant the authen-
ticity of any part of these memoirs, except so much
as féll ander my own knowledge, and that part shall
be stated with the same simplicity and accuracy,
that I would observe towards a court which was to
decide in the last resort upou every thing dear to me.
The same scrupulous fidelity restrains me from al-
tering the manner of Mr. Collins's narrative to adapt
it to the precepts of my own taste; and it will soon
be perceived how essential that narrative is to the
elucidation of my own history.
The intention of my friend in this communication
was to give me ease; but he in reality added to my
embarrassment Hitherto I had had no intercourse
with the world and its passions; and, though I was
not totally unacquainted with them as they appear in
books, this proved of little service to me when I
came to witness them myself. The case seemed en
tirely altered, when the subject of those passions
was continually before my eyes, and the events had
happened but the other day as it were, in the very
neighbourhood where I lived. There was a connec-
tion and progress in this narrative, which made it al
together unlike the little village incidents I had
hitherto known. My feelings were successively in
terested for the different persons that were brought
upon the scene. My veneration was excited for
Mr. Clare, and my applause for the intrepidity of
Mrs. Hammond. I was astonished that any human
creature should be so shockingly pervertedas Mr.
Tyrrel. I paid the tribute of my tears to the memory
of the artless Miss Melvile. I found a thonsand
fresh reasons to admire and love my master.
At first I was satisfied with thus considering every
incident in its obvious sense. But the story I had
aearl was for ever in my thoughts, and I was pecu-


112
ADVENTURES OF
liarly interested to comprehend its full import. I
turned it a thousand ways, and examined it in every
point of view. In the original communication, it ap.
peared sufficiently distinct and satisfactory; but, as
I brooded over it, it gradually became mysterious.
There was something strange in the character of
Hawkins. So firm, so sturdily honest and just, as
he appeared at first; all at once to become a mur.
derer! His first behaviour under the prosecution,
how accurately was it calculated to prepossess one
in his favour! To be sure, if he were guilty, it was
unpardonable in him to permit a man of so much
dignity and worth as Mr. Falkland, to suffer under
the imputation of his crime! And yet I could not
help bitterly compassionating the honest fellow,
brought to the gallows, as he was, strictly speaking,
by the machinations of that devil incarnate, Mr.
Tyrrel. His son too, that son for whom he volun-
tarily sacrificed his all, to die with him at the same
tree; surely never was a story more affecting!
Was it possible after all that Mr. Falkland should
be the murderer? The reader will scarcely believe;
that the idea suggested itself to my mind that I would
ask him. It was but a passing thought; but it serves
to mark the simplicity of my character. Then I re-
collected the virtues of my master, almost too sub-
live for human nature; I thought of his sufferings so
p yrampled, so unmerited; and chid myself for the
e picion. The dying confession of Hawkins recur-
red io my mind; and I felt that there was no longer
a possibility of doubting. And yet what was the
meaning of all Mr. Falkland's agonies and terrors ?
In fine, the idea having once occurred to my mind,
it was fixed there for ever. My thoughts fluctuated
from conjecture to conjecture, but this was the centre
about which they revolved. I determined to place
myself as a watch upon my master.
- The instant I had chosen this employment for my.
self, I found a strange sort of pleasure in it. To do
what is forbidden always has its charms, because we
have an indistinct apprehension of something arbi-
trary and tyrannical in the prohibition. To be a spy
upon Mr. Falkland! That there was danger in the
employment served to give an alluring pungency to
the choice. I remembered the stern reprimand I
had received, his terrible looks; and the recollec-


CALEB WILLIAMS.
113
upallied
tion gave a kind of tingling sensation, not altogether
ind to enimvment. The further I advanced, the
more the sensation was irresistible. I seemed to
myself perpetually upon the brink of being counter-,
mined, and perpetually roused to guard my designs.
The more impenetrable Mr. Falkland was deter-
mined to be, the more uncontrolable was my curiosi-
ty. Through the whole my alarm and apprehension
of personal danger, had a large mixture of frankness
and simplicity, conscious of meaning no ill, that
made me continually ready to say every thing that
vas upon my mind, and would not suffer me to be.
ieve that, when things were brought to the test, any
one could be seriously angry with me.
These reflections led gradually to a new state of
ray mind. When I had first removed into Mr.
Falkland's family, the novelty of the scene rendered
me cautious and reserved. The distant and solemn
manners of my master seemed to have annihilated
my constitutional gaiety. But the novelty by degrees
wore off, and my constraint in the same degree di-
minished. The story I had had now heard, and the
curiosity it excited, restored to me activity, eagerness
and courage. I always had a propensity to com-
municate my thoughts; my age was of course in-
clined to talkativeness; and I ventured occasionally
in a sort of hesitating way, as if questioning whether
such a conduct might be allowed, to express my
sentiments as they arose, in the presence of Maj'
Falkland.
The first time I did so, he looked at me with an
air of surprise, made me no answer, and presently
took occasion to leave me. The experiment was
soon after repeated. My master seemed half in-
clined to encourage me, and yet doubtful whether
he might venture. He had long been a stranger to
pleasure of every sort, and my artless and untaught
remarks appeared to promise him some amusement.
Could an amusement of this sort be dangerous ? In
this uncertainty he could not probably find it in his
heart to treat with severity my innocent effusions.
I needed but little encouragement: for the perturba-
tion of my mind stood in want of this relief. My
implicity, arising from my being a total stranger to
en intercourse of the world, was accompanied with
* mind in some degree cultivated with reading, and,


114
ADVENTURES OF
i
perhaps not altogether destitute of observation and
talent. My remarks were therefore perpetually
unexpected, at one time implying extreme ignorance:
and at another some portion of acuteness, but at all
times having an air of imocence, frankness and
courage. There was still an apparent want of de-
sign in the manner, even after I was excited accu-
rately to compare my observations, and study the
inferences to which they led; for the effect of old
kabit was more visible, than that of a recently con
ceived purpose which was scarcely yet mature. Mr.
Falkland's situation, was like that of a fish that
plays with the bait employed to entrap him. By my
manner he was in a certain degree encouraged to lay
aside his usual reserve and relax his stateliness; till
some abrupt observation or interrogatory stung him
into recollection, and brought back his alarm. Still
it was evident that he bore about him a secret
wound. Whenever the cause of his sorrows was
touched, thaugh in a manner the most indirect and
remote, his countenance altered, his distemper re-
turned, and it was with dificulty that lie could sup-
press kis emotions, sometimes conquering himself
with painful effort, and sometimes bursting into a
sort of paroxysm of insanity, and hastening to bury
himself in solitude. These appearances ſ too fre-
quently interpreted into grounds of suspicion, though
I might with equal probability and more liberality
have ascribed them to the cruel mortifications he
had encountered in the objects of his darling ambis
tion. Mr. Collins had strongly urged me to se crecy;
and Mr. Falkland, whenever my gesture or his con-
sciousness impressed hina with the idea of my know-
ing more than I expressed, looked at me with wistful
earnestness, as questioning what was the degree of
imformation I possessed, and how it was obtained.
But again, at our next interview, the simple vivacity
of my manner restored his tranynillity, obliterated
the emotion of which I had been the cause, and
placed things afresh in their former situation. The
longer this humble familiarity on my part had conti-
med, the more effort it would require to suppress it;
and Mr. Falkland Was neither willing to mortify me
by a severe prohibition of speech, nor even perhaps
to make me of so much consequence as that proli.
bition might seem to imply. Though I was carious,


CALEB WILLIAMS,
115
it must not be supposed that I had the object of my
engniry for ever in my mind, or that my questions
and inuendos were perpetually regulated with the
cunning of a grey-headed inquisitor. The secret
wound of Mr. Falkland's mind was much more uni-
formly present to his recollection than to mine ; and
a thousand times he applied the remarks that occur-
red in conversation; when I had not the remotest
idea of such an application, till some singularity in
his manner brought it back to my thoughts. The con-
sciousness of this morbid sensibility, and the imagi-
nation that its influence might perhaps constitute the
whole of the case, served probably to spur Mr.
Falkland again to the charge, and connect a senti-
ment of shame with every project that suggested
itself for interrupting the freedom of our intercourse.
I will give a specimen of the conversations to
which I allude; and, as it shall be selected from
those which began upon topics the most general and
remote, the reader will easily imagine the disturb
ance that was almost daily endured by a mind so
tremblingly alive as that of my master.
Pray, sir, said I, one day as I was assisting Mr.
Falkland in arranging some papers, previously to
their being transcribed into his collection, how came
Alexander of Macedon to be surnamed the Great ?
How came it? Did you never read his history ? .
Yes, sir.
Well, Williams, and could you find no reasons
there?
Why, I do not know, sir. I could find reasons why
he should be famous; but every man that is talked
of, is not admired. “Judges differ about the merits
of Alexander. Doctor Prideaux says in his Con-
nections, that he deserves only to be called the Great
Cut-throat, and the author of Tom Jones has written
a volume to prove that he and all other conqueror's
onght to be classed with Jonathan Wild.
Mr. Falkland reddened at these citations.
Accursed blasphemy! Did these anthors think
that by the coarseness of their ribaldry, they could
destroy his well earned fame? Are learning, sensi-
bility and taste no securities to exempt their pos-
sessor from this vulgar abuse? Did you ever read,
Willams, of a man more gallant, generous and
free? Was ever mortal so completely the reverse of
every thing engrossing and selfish? He formed to



98
mined to collect
to meet the wh
scene.
In pursuance
pair, without d
have already
Miss Melvile
Falkland had
part of the cou
for a week lo
the opportunity
his ré-establis
ground he had
formidable riv
ficient in cour
be too importa
make an unne
ease and impo
There was
entrance into t
the gentlemer
to be refused
they did not
ready been
of the cerein
calculated wi
excite defianc
assembly he
ceremonies,
equipage, and
prohibition ; !
with an air of
As he enter
Presently all
round him.
others began
effectually to
other. His
nence of his
which every
ascendancy,
himself as pla
all the energ
justice to so
from the ins
paced up and
and flashed a
ADVENTURES OF
falime image of excellence, and his only
and was to realise it in his own story. Remem-
bres giving away everything when he set ont upon
stand pedin, professedly reserving for him-
n g but hope. Recollect his heroic confi-
in Philips, the physician, and his entire and
benable friends for Ephestion. He treated
De antireur of Darius with the most cordial
th , and the nerable Srsigambis with all the
demes and attention of a son to his mother.
Never take the moment, Williams, upon such a
o f clerical pedant ora Westminster jus-
te Bramme for yourself, and you will find in
Almera med of honu, generosity and disin-
ter s , who, for the cultivated liberality
w h , na the unparalleled grandeur of his
s stand alme the spectacle and adml-
b allages of the world.
time thing for us to sit here and
n e i git. But shall I forget what a
s
bestowed in erecting the monu-
t his time is the the common dis-
me t ido Dhid na be overrun nations
beurd of lim, but for his de-
How mum ed thousands of lives
hiszert? What must I think
les while the massacred for a crime
this restes me hundred and fifty
hem till hand sold into slavery; two
m ed in their mal defence of their
era strange sort of creature,
a
Te hartily than him
o astratie md run over the face of
w
ebbing hot blame
liberal.
w
The m ian , Williams, is
manat blame te for it Bat
This will become more liberal. The
m ed thirsund men is at first sight
h at that is realitate a bundred
m ert hana bundred thousand
mind, Willing the generation of
s time that trenght to love. This
of anderhe set out in a great
i lle mukisd: he delivered the
from the storicity and degra
the Persian marchy; and, thoagh le
Te
m
me
be
pasg.


CALEB WILLIAMS. 117
cut off in the midst of his career, we may easily per-
ceive the vast effects of his project. Grecian litera,
ture and cultivation, the Seleucidæ, the Antiochu.
ses, and the Ptolomies followed, in nations which
before had been sunk to the condition of brutes:
Alexander was the builder as notoriously as the des
stroyer of cities.
And yet, sir, I am afraid that the pike and the
battle-axe are not the right instruments for making
mon wise. Suppose it were admitted that the lives
of men were to be sacrificed without remorse if a
paramount good were to result, it seems to me as if
murder and massacre were but a very left-handed
way of producing civilisation and love. But pray,
do not you think this great hero was a sort of a mad-
man? What now will you say to his firing the pa-
lace of Persepolis, his weeping for other worlds to
conquer, and his marching his whole army over the
burning sands of Lybia, merely to visit a temple,
and persuade mankind that he was the son of Jupiter
Ammon?
Alexander, my boy, has been much misunderstood.
Mankind have revenged themselves upon him by
misrepresentation, for having so far eclipsed the rest
of his species It was necessary to the realising his
project that he should pass for a God. It was the
only way by which he could get a firm hold upon the
veneration of the stupid and bigoted Persians. It
was this, and not a mad vanity, that was the source
of his proceeding. And how much had he to strug.
gle with in this respect in the unapprehending obsti:
nacy of some of his Macedonians ?
Why then, sir, at last Alexander did but employ
means that all politicians profess to use, as well as
he. He dragooned men into wisdom, and cheated
them into the pnrsuit of their own happiness. But
what is worse, sir, this Alexander in the paroxysm of
his headlong rage spared neither friend nor foe. Yox
will not pretend to justify the excesses of his ungo-
vernable passion. It is impossible sure that a word
can be said for a man whom a momentary provoca-
tion can hurry into the commission of murders
The instant I had uttered these words, I felt what
it was that I had done. There was a magnetical
sympathy between me and my master, so that their
etteert was not sooner produced upon him, than any


118 ADVENTURES OF
own mind reproached me with the inhumanity of the
allusion.' Our confusion was mutual. The blood for-
sook at once the transparent complexion of Mr.
Falkland, and then rushed back again with rapidity
and fierceness. I dared not utter a word, lest i
should commit a new error, worse than that into
which I had just fallen. After a short, but severe
struggle to continue the conversation, Mr. Falkland
began with trepidation, but afterwards became
calmer:
You are not candid—Alexander-You must learn
more clemency-Alexander, I say, does not deserve
this rigour. Do you remember his tears, his remorse,
his determined abstinence from food, which he could
scarcely be persuaded to alter ? Did not that prove
acute feeling and a rooted principle of equity ?--
Well, well, Alexander was a true and judicious
lover of mankind, and his real merits have bee;
little comprehended.
I know not how to make the state of my mind at
that moment accurately understood. When one
idea has got possession of the mind, it is scarcely
possible to keep it from finding its way to the lips
Error, once committed, has a fascinating power, like
the eyes of the rattlesnake, to draw us into a second
error. It deprives us of that proud confidence in
our own strength, to which we are indebted for so
much of our virtue. Curiosity is a restless propen-
sity, and often does but hurry us forward the more
irresistibly, the greater is the danger that attends
its indulgence.
Clitus, said I, was a man of very coarse and pro
voking manners, was he not ?
Mr. Falkland felt the full force of this appeal.
He gave me a penetrating look, as if he would see
my very soul. His eyes were then in an instant
withdrawn. I could perceive him seized with a con-
valsive shnddering, which, though strongly counter-
acted, and therefore scarcely visible, had I know
pot what of terrible in it. He left his employment,
strode about the room in anger, his visage gradually
assumed an expression as of supernatural barbarity,
he quitted the apartment abruptly, and flung the door
with a violence that seemed to shake the house.
· Is this, said I, the fruit of conscious guilt, or of
the disgust that a man of honour couceives at guilt
undeservedly imputed ?


CALEB WILLIAMS.
119
The reader will feel how rapidly I was advancing
to the brink of the precipice. I had a confused ap-
prehension of what I was doing, but I could not
stop myself. Is it possible, said I, that Mr. Falk-
land, who is thus overwhelmed with a sense of the
unmerited dishonour that has been fastened upon
him in the face of the world, will long endure the
presence of a raw and unfriended youth, who is
perpetually bringing back that dishonour to his re-
collection, and who seems himself the most forward
to entertain the accusation ?
I felt indeed that Mr. Falkland would not hastily
incline to dismiss me, for the same reason that re-
strained him from many other actions which might
seem to savour of a too tender and ambiguous sensi.
bility. But this reflection was little adapted to com-
fort me. That he should cherish in his heart a grow-
ing hatred against re, and that he should think him-
self obliged to retain me a continual thorn in his
side, was an idea by no means of favourable augury,
to my future peace.
It was some time after this that, in clearing out a
case of drawers, I found a paper that by some acci.
dent had slipped behind one of the drawers, and
been overlooked. At another time perhaps my cu-
riosity might have given way to the laws of decorom,
and I should have restored it unopened to my master,
its owner. But my eagerness for information had
been too much stimulated by the preceding incidents
to allow me at present to neglect any occasion of ob-
taining it. The paper proved to be a letter written
by the elder Hawkins, and from its contents seemed
to have been penned when he had first been upon
the point of absconding from the persecutions of Mr.
Tyrrel. It was as follows.
Honourable Sir,
I have waited some time in daily hope of
voor honour's return into these parts. Old Warnes
and his dame, who are left to take care of your house,
tell me, they cannot say when that will be, nor justly
in what part of England you are at presen. For my
share, misfortune comes so thick upon me, that I
must determine upon something (that is for certain),
and out of hand. Our squire, who I must own at
first used me kindly enougl:, though I am afraid that
was partly out of spite to squire Underwood, has
since determined to be the ruin of me. Sir, I have


ADVENTURES OF
been no craven ; I fought it up stoutly; for after all.
you know, God bless your honour! it is but a man
to a man; but he has been too much for me.
· Perhaps if I were to ride over to the market-towe
and enquire of Munsle, your lawyer, he could tell
me how to direct to y... But having hoped and waited
o' this fashion, and all in vain, has put me upon other
thoughts. I was in no hurry, sir, to apply to you;
for I do not love to be a trouble to any body. I kept
that for my last stake. Well, sir, and now that has
failed me like, I am ashamed as it were to have
thought of it. Have not I, thinks I, arms and legs
as well as other people? I am driven out of house
and home. Well, and what then? Sure Iarx't a
cabbage, that if you pull it out of the ground, it must
die. I am pennyless. True ; and how many hun.
dreds are there that live from band to mouth all the
days of their life? (Begging your honour's pardon
thinks I, if we little folks had but the wit to do for
ourselves, the great folks would not be such maggoty
changelings as they are. They would begin to look
about them.
• But there is another thing that has swayed with me
more than all the rest. I do not know how to tell you,
sir-my poor boy, my Leonard, the pride of my life,
has been three weeks in the county jail. et is true
indeed, sir. Squire Tyrrel put him there. Now,
sir, every time that I lay my head upon my pillow
under my own little roof, my heart smites me with
the situation of my Leonard. do not mean so
much for the hardship; I do not so much matter that.
I do not expect him to go through the world upan
velvet; I am not such a fool. But who can tell what
may hap in a jail ? I have been tfiree times to see
him; and there is one man in the same quarter of
the prison that looks so wicked! I do not much fancy
the looks of the rest. To be sure Leonard is as good
a lad as ever lived. I think he will not give his mind
to such. But, come what will, I am determined ke
shall not stay among them twelve hours longer. ]
am an obstinate old fool perhaps; but I have takep
it into my head, and I will do it. Do not ask mer
what. But if I were to write to your honour, and
wait for your answer, it might take a week or tex
days more. I must not think of it!
Squire ?yrrel is very headstrong, and you, your
honour, might be a little hottish or 80. No, I would


CALEB WILLIAMS.
121
not have any body quarrel for me. There has been
mischief enough done already; and I will get myself
out of the way. So I write this, your honour, merely
to upload my mind. I feel myself equally as much
bound to respect and love you, as if you had done
every thing for me that I believe you would have
done if things had chanced differently. It is most
likely you will never hear of me any more. If it
should be so, set your worthy heart at rest. I know
myself too well ever to be tempted to do any thing
that is really bad. I have now my fortune to seek in
the world. I have been used ill enough, God knows.
But I bear no malice; my heart is at peace with all
mankind; and I forgive every body. It is like enough
that poor Leonard and I may have hardship enough
to undergo, among strangers and being obliged to
hide ourselves like housebreakers or highwaymen.
But I defy all the malice of fortone to make us do
an ill thing. That consolation we will always keep
against all the crosses of a heart-breaking world.
God bless you!
So prays,
Your honour's humble servant
to eummand,
BENJAMIN HAWKINS.'
I read this letter with considerable attention, and
it necasiuned me many reflections. To my way of
thinking it contained a very interesting picture of a
blunt, downright, honest mind. It is a melancholy
consideration, said I to myself; but such is man!
To have judged from appearances one would have
snid, This is a fellow, to have taken forteme's buffets
and rewards with an incorruptible mind. And yet
see where it all ends! This man was capable of af
terwards becoming a murderer, and finishing his life
at the gallows. O poverty! thou art indeed omnipo-
tent! Thou grindest us into desperation; thou con-
foundest all our boasted and most deep-rooted prin-
ciples; thou fillest us to the very brim with malice
and revenge, and renderest ns capable of acts of
unknown horror! May I never be visited by thee in
the fulness of thy power!
· Having satisfied' my curiosity with respect to this
paper, I took care to dispose of it in such a manner
as that it should be found by Mr. Falkland; at the
same time that, in obedience to the principle which
at present governed me with absolute dominion, F


122
ADVENTURES OF
was willing that the way in which it offered itself to
his attention, should suggest to him the idea that it
had possibly passed through my hands. The next
morning I saw him, and I exerted myself to lead the
conversation, which by this time I well knew how to
introduce, by insensible degrees to the point I desi-
red. After several previous questions, remarks and
rejoinders, I continued:
Well, sir, after all, I cannot help feeling very un:
comfortably as to my ideas of human nature, when
I find that there is no dependence to be placed upon
its perseverance, and that, at least among the illite-
rate, the most promising appearances may end in
the foulest disgrace.
You think then that literature and a cultivated
mind are the only assurance for the constancy of our
principles ?
Um:-why do you suppose, sir, that learning and
ingenuity do not often serve people rather to hide
their crimes, than to restrain them from committing
dem ? History tells us strange things in that respect.
Williains! said Mr. Falkland, a little disturbed,
you are extremely given to censure and severity.
I hope not. I am sure I am most fond of looking
on the other side of the picture, and considering how
many men have been aspersed, and even at some
time or other almost torn to pieces by their fellow
creatures, whom, when properly understood, we
find worthy of our reverence and love.
Indeed, replied Mr. Falkland with a sigh, when I
consider these things. I do not wonder at the dying
exclamation of Brutus, o Virtue ! I sought thee as
a substance, but I find thee an empty name! J am
too much inclined to be of his opinion.
Why to be sure, sir, innocence and guilt are too
much confounded in human life. I remember a very
affecting story of a poor man in the reign of qneen
Elizabeth, who would have infallibly been hanged
for murder upon the strength of circumstantial evi.
dence, if the person really concerned had not been
himself upon the jury, and prevented it.
In saying this I touched the spring that wakened
madness in his mind He came up to me with a fe-
rocious countenance as if determined to force me
into a confession of my thoughts. A sudden pang
however seemed to change his design; he drew back
with trepidation; and exclaimed, Detested be the:


CALEB WILLIAMS.
123
I
universe, and the laws that govern it! Honour, jus-
tice, virtue are all the juggle of knaves! If it were
in my power, I would instantly crush the whole sys-
tem into nothing!
· I replied ; Oh, sir! things are not so bad as you
imagine. The world was made for men of sense to
do what they will with it. Its affairs cannot be bet.
ter than in the direction of the genuine heroes; and,
as in the end they will be found the truest friends of
the whole, so the multitude have nothing to do, but
to look on, be fashioned and admire.
Mr. Falkland made a powerful effort to recover
his tranquillity. Williams! said he, you instruct
me well. You have a right notion of things, and I
have great hopes of you. I will be more of a man.
I will forget the past, and do better for the time to
come. The future, the future is always our own.
I am sorry, sir, that I have given you pain. I am
afraid to say all that I think. But it is my opinion
that mistakes will ultimately be cleared up, justice
done, and the true state of things come to light in
spite of the false colours that may for a time obscure it.
* The idea I suggested did not give Mr. Falkland
the proper degree of delight. He suffered a tempo-
rary relapse. Justice !-he muttered. I do not know
what is justice. My case is not within the reach of
common remedies ; perhaps of none, I only know
that I am miserable. I began life with the best in-
tentions and the most fervid philanthropy; and here
I am--miserable--miserable beyond expression or
endurance.
Having said this, he seemed suddenly to recollect
himself, and re-assume his accustomed dignity and
command. How came this conversation ? cried he.
Who gave you a right to be my confident? Base,
-artful wretch that you are! learn to be more respect-
tul! Are my passions to be wound and unwound by
an insolent domestic ? Do you think I will be an in.
strument to be played on at your pleasnre, till you
have extorted all the treasures of my soul ? Begone,
and fear lest you be made to pay for the temerity you
have already committed.
There was an energy and determination in the ges-
tures with which these words were accompanied that
did not admit of their being disputed. My mouth
was closed ; I felt as if deprived of all share of ac-
tivity, and 'was only able silently and passively to
quit the apartment


124
ADVENTUBES OF
Two days subsequent to this conversation Mr. Falk-
land ordered me to be called to him. [I shall con-
tinue to speak in my narrative of the silent, as well
as the articulate part of the intercourse between us.
His countenance was habitually animated and ex-
pressive, much beyond that of any other man I have
seen. The curiosity, which, as I have said, consti-
tuted at this time my ruling passion, stimulated me
to make it my perpetual study. It will also most pro-
bably happen, while I am thus employed in collecting
together the scattered incidents of my history, that i
shall upon some occasions annex to appearances an
explanation, which I was far from possessing at the
time, and was only suggested to me through the me-
dium of subsequent events.]
Upon this occasion Mr. Falkland's countenance
exhibited an unwonted composure. This composune
however did not seem to result from internal ease.
but from an effort which, while he prepared himself
for an interesting scene, was exerted to prevent his
presence of mind and power of voluntary action from
suffering any diminution.
Williams, said he, I am determined, whatever it
may cost me, to have an explanation with you. You
are a rash and inconsiderate boy, and have given me
much disturbance. You ought to have known that,
though I allow you to talk with me upon indifferent
subjects, it is very improper in you to lead the con-
versation to any thing that relates to my personal con-
cerns. You have said many things lately in a very
mysterious way, and appear to know something moro
than I am aware of. I am equally at a loss to guess
how you came by your knowledge, as of what it con.
sists. But I think I perceive too much inclination on
your part to trifle with my peace of mind. That
ought not to be, nor have I deserved any such treat-
ment from you. But, be that as it will, the guesses
in which you oblige me to employ myself are too pain-
ful. It is a sort of sporting with my feelings, which,
as a man of resolution, I am determined to bring to
an end. I expect you therefore to lay aside all mys-
tery and equivocation, and inform me explicitly what
it is upon which your allusions are built. What is it
you know? What is it you want? I have been too
much exposed already to unparalleled mortification
and bardship, and my wounds will not bear this per.
petual bandling.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
125
I feel, sir, answered 1, how wrong I have been,
and am ashamed that such a one as I should have
given you all this trouble and displeasure. I felt it
at the time; but I have been hurried along I do not
know how. I have always tried to stop myself, but
the demon that possessed me was too strong for me.
I know nothing, sir, but what Mr. Collins told me.
He told me the story of Mr. Tyrrel and Miss Melvile,
and Hawkins. I am sure, sir, he said nothing but
what was to your honour, and proved you to be more
an angel than a man.
Well, sir : I found a letter written by that Haw-
kins the other day: did not that letter fall into your
hands ? Did not you read it?
For God's sake, sir, turn me out of your house.
Punish me in some way or other, that I may forgive
myself, I am a foolish, wicked, despicable wretch.
I confess, sir, I did read the letter.
And how dared you read it? It was indeed very
wrong of you. But we will talk of that by and by.
Well, and what did you say to the letter? You know
it seems that Hawkins was hanged.
I say, sir ? why it went to my heart to read it. I
say, as I said the day before yesterday, that, when
I see a man of so much principle afterwards delibe-
rately proceeding to the very worst of crimes, I can
scarcely bare to think of it.
That is what you say? It seems too you know, ac-
cursed remembrance ! that I was accused of this
crime? I was silent.
Well, sir. You know too perhaps that, from the
bour the crime was committed,-yes, sir, that was
the date [and, as he said this, there was somewhat
frightful, I had almost said diabolical, in his counte-
nance)-I have not had an hour's peace ; I became
- changed from the happiest into the most miserable
thing that lives ; sleep has fled from my eyes ; joy
has been a stranger to my thoughts; and annihilation
I shonld prefer a thousand times to the being that I
lead. As soon as I was capable of a choice, I chose
honour and the esteem of mankind as a good I pre-
ferred to all others. You know, it seems, in how
many ways my ambition has been disappointed, --I
do not thánk Collins for having been the historian of
my disgrace,-Would to God that night could be
blotted from the memory of man !-But the scene of
that night, instead of perishing, has been a source


126
ADVENTURES OF
of every new calamity to me, which must flow for
ever! Am I then, thus miserable and rained, a pro-
per subject upon which for you to exercise your inge-
nuity, and improve your power of tormenting? Was
it not enough that I was publicly dishonoured ? that
I was deprived by the pestilential influence of some
· demon of the opportunity of avenging my dishononr?
No: in addition to this I have been charged with
having in this critical moment intercepted my own
vengeance by the foulest of crimes. That trial is
past. Misery itself has nothing worse in store for
me, except what you have mtlicted: the seeming to
doubt of my innocence, which after the fullest and
most solemin examination has been completely esta-
blished. You have forced me to this explanation.
You have extorted from me a contidence which I
had no inclination to make. But it is a part of the
misery of my situation, that I am at the mercy of
every creature, however little, who feels himself in-
clined to sport with my distress. Be content. You
have brought me low enough.
Oh, sir! I am not content; I cannot be content !
I cannot bear to think what Úhave done. I shall ne.
ver again be able to look in the face the best of mas-
ters and the best of men. I beg of you, sir, to turn
me out of your service. Let me go and hide myself
where I may never see you more.
Mr. Falkland's countenance had indicated great
severity through the whole of this conversation ; but
now it became more harsh and tempestuous than ever.
How now, rascal! cried he. You want to leave me,
do you? Who told you thai I wished to part with
vou? But you cannot bear to live with such a misera-
ble wretch as I am! You are not digposed to put up
with the caprices of a man so dissatisfied and unjust!
Oh, sir! do not talk to me thus! Do with me any
thing you will, Kill me if you please.
Kill you? (Volumes could not describe the emo-
tions with which this echo of my words was given
and received.)
Sir, I could die to serve you! I love you more
than I can express. I worship you as a being of a
superior nature. I am foolish, raw, inexperienced,
-worse than any of these ;-but never did a thonght
of disloyalty to your service enter into my heart.
Here our conversation ended; and the impression
it made upon my youthful mind it is impossible to del


CALEB WILLIAMS. 127
scribe. I thought with astonishment, even with rap-
ture, of the attention and kindness towards me I dis-
covered in Mr. Falkland through all the ronghness of
his manner. I could never enough wonder at finding
myself, humble as I was by my birth, obscure as I
bad hitherto been, thus suddenly become of so much
importance to the happiness of one of the most en-
lightened and accomplished men in England. But
this consciousness attached me to my master more
eagerly than ever, and made me swear a thousand
times as I meditated upon my situation, that I would
never prove unworthy of so generons a protector.
Is it not unaccountable that, in the midst of all
my encreased veneration for my master, the first tu-
mult of my emotion was scarcely subsided, before
the old question that had excited my conjectures re-
curred to my mind, Was he the murderer ? It was
a kind of fatal impulse that seemed destined to hurry
me to my destruction. I did not wonder at the dis-
turbance that was given to Mr. Falkland by any allu-
sion however distant to this fatal affair. That was as
completely accounted for from the consideration of
his excessive sensibility in matters of honour, as it
would have been upon the supposition of the most
atrocious guilt. Knowing as he did, that such a
charge had once been connected with his name, he
would of course be perpetually uneasy, and suspect
some latent insinuation at every possible opportunity.
He would doubt and fear, lest every man with whom
he conversed harboured the foulest suspicions against
him. In my case he found that I was in possession
of some information more than he was aware of,
without its being possible for him to decide to what it
amounted, whether I had heard a just or unjust, a
candid or calumniatory tale. He had also reason to
suppose that I gave entertainment to thoughts dero-
gatory to his honour, and that I did not form that fa-
vourable judgment which the exquisite refinement of
his ruling passion made indispensible to his peace.
All these considerations would of course maintain in
him a state of perpetual uneasiness. But, though I
conld find nothing that I could consider as justifying
me in persisting in the shadow of a doubt, yet, as I
have said, the uncertainty and restlessness of my
contemplations would by no means depart from me.
The Auctnating state of my mind prodnced a con-
tention of opposite principles, that by turps usurped
.


123
ADVENTURES OF
dominion over my conduct. Sometimes I was in.
fluenced by the most complete veneration for my
master; I placed an unreserved confidence in his in-
tegrity and his virtue, and implicitly surrendered my
understanding for him to set it to what point he
pleased. At other times the confidence, which had
before flowed with the most plenteous tide, began to
ebb ; I was, as I had already been, watchful, inqui-
sitive, suspicious, full of a thousand conjectures as
to the meaning of the most indifferent actions. Mr.
Falkland, who was most painfully alive to every
thing that related to his honour, saw these variations,
and betrayed his consciousness of them now in one
manner and now in another, frequently before I was
myself aware, sometimes almost before they existed.
The situation of both was distressing; we were each
of us a plague to the other; and I often wondered
that the forbearance and benignity of my master was
not at length exhausted, and that he did not deter-
mine to thrust from him for ever so incessant an ob-
server. There was indeed one eminent difference
between his share in the transaction and mine. I had
some consolation in the midst of my restlessness.
Curiosity is a principle that carries its pleasures as
well as its pains along with it The mind is urged by
a perpetual stimulus; it seems as if it were conti-
nually approaching to the end of its race; and, as
the insatiable desire of satisfaction is its principle of
conduct, so it promises itself in that satisfaction an
unknown gratification, which seems as if it were ca
pable of fully compensating any injuries that may be
suffered in the career. But to Mr. Falkland there
was no consolation. What he endured in the inter-
course betweea us appeared to be gratuitous evil.
He had only to wish that there was no such person as
myself in the world, and to curse the hour when his
humanity led him to rescue me from my obscurity,
and place me in his service.
A consequence produced upon me by the extraor-
dinary nature of my situation it is necessary to men-
tion. The constant state of vigilance and suspicion
in which my mind was retained worked a very rapid
change in my character. It seemed to have all the
effect that might have been expected from years of
ohservation and experience. The strictness with
which I endeavoured to remark what passed in the
mind of one man and the variety of conjectures in.


130
ADVENTURES OF
YPE
court of chancery appropriate to that term, became
stronger and more durable than ever. It was no
longer practicable wholly to conceal them from the
family and even from the neighbonrhood. He would
sometimes, without any previous notice, absent him-
self from his house for two or three days, unaccom-
panied by servant or attendant. This was the more
extraordinary, as it was well known that he paid no
visits, nor kept up any sort of intercourse with the
gentlemen of the vicinity. But it was impossible that
a man of Mr. Falkland's distinction and fortune
should long continue in such a practice without its
being discovered what was become of him, though a
considerable part of our county was among the wild-
est and most desolate districts that are to be found in
South Britain. Mr. Falkland was sometimes seen
climbing among the rocks, reclining motionless for
hours together upon the edge of a precipice, or lulled
into a kind of nameless lethargy of despair by the
dashing of the torrents. He would remain for whole
nights together under the naked cope of heaven, in-
attentive to the consideration either of place or time,
insensible to the variations of the weather, or rather
seeming to be delighted with that nproar of the ele-
ments which partially called off his attention from
the discord and dejection that occupied his own mind.
At first, when we received intelligence at any time
of the place to which Mr. Falkland had withdrawn
himself, some person of his bousehold, Mr. Collins or
myself, but most generally myself, as I was always
at home, and always in the received sense of that
word at leisure, went to him to persuade him to re-
turn. But after a few experiments we thought it ad.
viseable to desist, and leave him to prolong his ab-
sence, or to terminate it, as might happen to suit his
own inclination. Mr. Collins, whose grey hairs and
long services seemed to give him a sort of right to be
importunate, sometimes succeeded; though even in
that case there was nothing that could sit more un-
easily upon Mr. Falkland, than this insinuation, as if
he wanted a guardian' to take care of him, or as if
he were, or were in danger of, falling into a state in
which he would be incapable of deliberately con-
trolling his own words and actions. At one time he
would sullenly yield to his humble, venerable friend,
murmuring grievously at the constraint that was put
upon him, hut without spirit enough even to complain


CALEB WILLIAMS. . 131
of it with energy. At another time, even though
complying, he would suddenly burst out in a pa-
paroxysm of resentment. Upon these occasions there
was something inconceivably, savagely terrible in
his anger, that gave to the person against whom it
was directed the most humiliating and insupportable
sensations. Me he always treated at these times
with fierceness, and drove me from him with a ve-
hemence, lof
hemence. lofty, emphatical, and sustained bevond
any thing of which I should have thought human na-
ture to be capable. These sallies seemed always to
constitute a sort of crisis in his indisposition ; and,
whenever he was induced to such a premature re-
turn, he would fall immediately after into a state of
the most melancholy inactivity, in which he usually
continued for two or three days. It was by an ohsti-
nate fatality that, whenever I saw Mr. Falkland in
these deplorable situations, and particularly when i
lighted upon him after having sought him among the
rocks and precipices, pale, emaciated, solitary, and
haggard, the suggestion would continually recar to
me, in spite of inclination, in spite of persuasion, and
in spite of evidence, Surely this man is a murderer!
It was in one of the lucid intervals, as I may term
them, that occurred during this period, that a pea-
sant was brought before him, in his character of a
justice of peace, upon an accusation of having mur-
dered his fellow. As Mr. Falkland had by this time
acquired the repute of a melancholy valetudinarian,
it is probable he would not have been called upon to
act in his official character upon the present occasion,
had it not been that two or three of the neighbouring
justices were all of them from home at once, so that
he was the only one to be found in a circuit of many
miles. The reader, however, must not imagine,
though I have employed the word insanity in descri.
bing Mr. Falkland's symptoms, that he was by any
means reckoned for a madman by the generality of
those who had occasion to observe him. It is true
that his behaviour at certain times was singular and
unaccountable; but then at other times there was in
it so much dignity, regularity and economy; he knew
so well how to command and make himself respect-
ed; his actions and carriage were so condescending,
considerate and benevolent; that, far from having
forfeited the esteem of the unfortunate or the many,
they were loud and earnest in his praises.


132
ADVENTURES OF
I was present at the examination of this peasant.
The moment I heard of the errand which had brought
this rabble of visitors, a sudden thought struck me.
I conceived the possibility of rendering the incident
subordinate to the great enquiry which drank up all
the currents of my soul. I said, This man is ar-
raigned of murder, and murder is the master-key
that wakes distemper in the mind of Mr. Falkland.
I will watch him without remission. I will trace all
the mazes of his thought. Surely at such a time his
secret anguish must betray itself. Surely, if it he
not my own fault, I shall now be able to discover
the true state of his plea before the tribunal of uner-
ring justice.
I took my station in a manner most favourable to
the object upon which my mind was intent. I could
perceive in Mr. Falkland's features as he entered a
strong reluctance to the business in which he was en-
gaged; but there was no possibility of retreating.
His countenance was embarrassed and anxious ; he
scarcely saw any body. The examination had not
proceeded far, before he chanced to turn his eye to
the part of the room where I was. It happend in this,
as in some preceding instances ; we exchanged a si-
lent look hy which we told volumes to each other.
Mr. Falkland's complexion turned from red to pale,
and from pale to red. I perfectly understood his feel.
ings, and would willingly have withdrawn myself.
But it was impossible; my passions were too deeply
engaged; I was rooted to the spot; though my own
life, that of my master, or almost of a whole nation,
had been at stake, I had no power to change wy
position.
The first surprise, however, having subsided, Mr.
Falkland assumed a look of determined constancy,
and even seemed to increase in self possession much
beyond what could have been expected from his first
entrance. This he could probably have maintained,
had it not been that the scene, instead of being per-
manent, was in some sort perpetually changing. The
inan who was brought before him was vehemently ac-
cused by the brother of the deceased, as having
acted from the most rooted malice. He swore that
there had been an old grudge between the parties,
and related several instances of it. He affirmed that
the murderer had sought the earliest opportunity of
wreaking bis revenge, had struck the first blow, and,


CALEB WILLIAMS.
133
though the contest was in appearance only a common
boxing match, had watched the occasion of giving
a fatal stroke which was followed by the instant death
of his antagonist.
While the accuser was giving in his evidence, the
accused discovered every token of the most poignant
sensibility. At one time his features were convalsed
with anguish, tears unbidden rolled down his manly
cheeks; and at another he started with apparent asto-
nishment at the unfavourable turn that was given to
the narrative, though without betraying any impa-
tience to interrupt. I never saw a man less ferocious
in his appearance. He was tall, well made and
comely. His countenance was ingenuous and bene-
volent, without folly. By his side stood a young wo-
man, his sweetheart, extremely agreeable in her per-
son, and her looks testifying how deeply she interest-
ed herself in the fate of her lover. The accidental
spectators were divided between indignation against
the enormity of the supposed criminal, and compas-
sion for the poor girl that accompanied him. They
seemed to take little notice of the favourable appear-
ances visible in the person of the accused, till in the
sequel those appearances were more forcibly sug-
gested to their attention. For Mr. Falkland, he was
at one moment engrossed by curiosity and earnestness
to investigate the tale, while at another he betrayed
a sort of revulsion of sentiment which made the in-
vestigation too painful for him to support. .
When the accused was called upon for his de..
fence, he readily owned the misunderstanding that
had existed, and that the deceased was the worst
enemy he had in the world. Indeed he was his only
enemy, and he could not tell the reason that had
made him so. He had employed every effort to over-
come his animosity, bat in vain. The deceased had
upon all occasions sought to mortify him, and do him
an ill turn; but he had resolved never to be engaged
in a broil with him, and till this day he had succeed-
ed. If he had met with a misfortune with any other
man, people at least might have thought it matter of
accident; but now it would always be believed that
he had acted from secret malice and a bad heart.
The fact was, that he and his sweetheart had gone
to a neighbouring fair, where this man had met them.
The man had often tried to affront him, and his pas.
siveness interpreted into cowardice, had perhaps
T


134
ADVENTURES OF
encouraged the other to additional rudeness. Find.
ing that he had endured trivial insults to himself with
an even temper, the deceased now thought proper to
turn his brutality upon the young woman that accom-
panied him. He pursued them; he endeavoured in
various manners to harass and vex them; they had
sought in vain to shake him off. The yonng woman
was considerably terrified. The accused exposta-
lated with their persecutor, and asked him how he
could be so barbarous as to persist in frightening a
woman? He replied with an insulting tone, Then the
woman should find some one able to protect her:
people that encouraged and trusted to such a thief as
That, deserved no better! The accused tried every
expedient he could invent; at length he could endure
it no longer; he became exasperated, and challenged
the assailant. The challenge was accepted; a ring
was formed; he confided the care of his sweetheart
to a bystander; and unfortunately the first blow he
struck proved fatal.
The accused added, that he did not care what be.
came of him. He had been anxious to go through
the world in an inoffensive manner, and now he had
the guilt of blood upon him. He did not know but it
would be a kindnesss in them to hang him out of the
way; for his conscience would reproach him as long
as he lived, and the figure of the deceased, as he
had lain senseless and without motion at his feet,
would perpetually haunt him. The thought of this
man, at one moment full of life and vigour, and the
next lifted a helpless corpse from the ground, and all
owing to him, was a thought too dreadful to be en-
dured. He had loved the poor girl who had been the
innocent occasion of this with all his heart, but from
this time he should never support the sight of her.
The sight would bring a tribe of friends in its rear.
One unlucky minute had poisoned all his hopes, and
made life a burden to hiin.-Saying this his counte-
nance fell, the muscles of his face trembled with
agony, and he looked the statue of despair.
This was the story of which Mr. Falkland was
called upon to be the auditor. Though the incidents
were for the most part wide of those which belonged
to the adventures of the preceding volume, and there
had been much less policy and skill displayed on
either part in this rustic encounter, yet there were
many points which, to a man who bore the former
1


CALEB WILLIAMS.
135
strongly in his recollection, suggested a sufficient re-
semblance. In each case it was a human brute per-
sisting in a course of hostility to a man of benevolent
character, and suddenly and terribly cut off in the
midst of his career. These points perpetually smote
upon the heart of Mr. Falkland. He at one time
started with astonishment, and at another shifted his
posture like a man who is unable longer to endure the
sensations that press upon him. Then he new strung
his nerves to stubborn patience. I could see, while
his muscles preserved an inflexible steadiness, tears
of anguish roll down his cheeks. He dared not trust
his eyes to glance towards the side of the room where
I stood; and this gave an air of embarrassment to
his whole figure. But, when the accused came to
speak of his own feelings, to describe the depth of
his compunction for an involuntary fault, he could en-
dure it no longer. He suddenly rose, and with every
mark of horror and despair rushed out of the room.
This circumstance made no material difference in
the affair of the accused. The parties were detained
about half an hour. Mr. Falkland had already heard
the material parts of the evidence in person. At the
expiration of that interval, he sent for Mr. Collins
out of the room. The story of the culprit was con-
firmed by many witnesses who had seen the trans-
action. · Word' was brought that my master was in-
disposed, and at the same time the accused was or.
dered to be discharged. The vengeance of the bro-
ther, however, as I afterwards understood, did not
rest here, and he found a magistrate more scrupulous
or more despotic, by whom the culprit was com-
mitted for trial.
This affair was no sooner concluded than I hasten-
ed into the garden, and plunged into the deepest of
its thickets. My mind was full almost to bursting.
I no sooner conceived myself sufficiently removed
from all observation, than my thoughts forced their
way spontaneously to my tongue, and I exclaimed in
a fit of uncontrolable enthusiasm : « This is the mur.
derer! the Hawkinses were innocent! I am sure of
it! I will pledge my life of it! It is out! It is dis-
covered! Guilty upon my soul!”
While I thus proceeded with hasty steps along the
most secret paths of the garden, and from time to
time gave vent to the tumult of my thoughts in invo-
luntarv exclamations I felt as if my animal system


136
ADVENTURES OF
had undergone a total revolution. My blood boil-
ed within me. I was conscious to a kind of rap.
ture for which I could not account. I was solemn,
yet full of rapid emotion, burving with indignation
and energy. In the very tempest and hurricane of
the passions, I seemed to enjoy the most soul-ravish-
ing calm. I cannot better express the then state of
my mind, than by saying, I was never so perfectly
alive as at that moment.
This state of mental elevation continued for seve.
ral hours, but at length subsided and gave place to
more deliberate reflection. One of the first questions
that then occurred was, What shall I do with the
knowledge I have been so eager to acquire ? I
had no inclination to turn informer. I felt, what I
had no previous conception of, that it was possible
to love a murderer, and, as I then understood it,
the worst of murderers. I conceived it to be in the
highest degree absurd and iniquitous to cut of a man
qualified for the inost essential and extensive utility,
merely out of retrospect to an act which, whatever
were its demerits, could not now be retrieved.
This thought led me to another which had at first
passed unnoticed. If I had been disposed to turn
informer, what had occurred amounted to no evidence
that was admissable in a court of justice. Well then,
added I, if it be such as would not be admitted at a
criminal tribunal, am I sure it is such as I ought not
to admit? There were twenty persons heside myself
present at the scene from which I pretend to derive
such entire conviction. Not one of them saw it in
the light that I did. It either appeared to them a ca-
sual and unimportant circumstance, or they thought
it sufficiently accounted for by Mr. Falkland's infir-
mity and misfortunes. Did it really contain such an
extent of arguments and application, that nobody
but I was discerning enough to see?
But all this reasoning produced no alteration in my
way of thinking. For this time I could not get it out
of my mind for a moment: “Mr. Falkland is the
murderer! He is guilty! I see it! I feel it! I am
sure of it !” Thus was I hurried along by an uncon-
trolable destiny. The state of my passions in their
progressive career, the inquisitiveness and imptience
of my thoughts, appeared to make this determination
unavoidable.
An incident occurred while I was in the garden,


CALEB WILLIAMS. 137
that seemed to make no impression upon me at the
time, but which I recollected when my thoughts
were got into somewhat of a slower motion. In the
midst of one of my paroxyms of exclamation, and
when I thought myself most alone, the shadow of a
man as avoiding me passsed transiently by me at a
small distance. Though I had scarcely caught a
faint glimpse of his person, there was something in
the occurrence that persuaded me it was Mr. Falk-
land. I shuddered at the possibility of his having
overheard the words of my soliloquy. But this idea,
alarming as it was, had not power immediately to
suspend the career of my reflections. Subsequent
circumstances however brought back the apprehen-
sion to my mind. I had scarcely a doubt of its re-
ality, when dinner time came, and Mr. Falkland
was not to be found. Supper and bed-time passed
in the same manner. The only conclusion made by
his servants upon this circumstance was, thot he was
gone upon one of his accustomed melancholy rambles.
The period at which my story is now arrived seem.
ed as if it were the very crisis of the fortune of Mr.
Falkland. Incident followed upon incident in a kind
of breathless succession About nine o'clock the
next morning an alarm was given that one of the
chimnies of the house was on fire. No accident
could be apparently more trivial ; but presently it
blazed with such fary, as to make it clear that some
beam of the house, which in the first building had
been improperly placed, had been reached by the
flames. Some danger was apprehended for the whole
edifice. The confusion was the greater, in conse.
quence of the absence of the master, as well as of
Mr. Collins, the steward. While some of the do.
mestics were employed in endeavouring to extinguish
the flames, it was thought proper that others should
busy theinselves in removing the most valuable move-
ahles to a lawn in the garden. I took some command
in the affair, to which indeed my station in the family
seemed to entitle me, and for which I was thought
qnalified by my understanding and mental resources.
Having given some general directions, I conceived
that it was not enough to stand by and superintend,
but that I shonld contribute my personal labour in the
public concern. I set out for that purpose ; and my
steps by some mysterious fatality were directed to the
private apartment at the end of the library. Here, as


138
ADVENTURES OF
I looked round, my eye was suddenly caught by the
trunk mentioned in the first pages of ay narrative..
My mind was already raised to its atmost pitch.
In a window-seat of the room lay a parcel of chis.
sels and other carpenter's tools. I know not what
infatuation instantaneously seized me. The idea was
too powerful to he resisted. I forgot the business
upon which I came, the employment of the servants
and the urgency of general danger. I should have
done the same, if the apartment round me had been
in flames., I snatched a tool suitable for the purpose,
threw myself upon the ground, and applied with ea:
gerness to a magazine which enclosed all for which
my heart panted. After two or three efforts, in
which the energy of uncontrolable passion was added
to my bodily strength, the fastenings gave way, the
trunk opened, and all that I sought was at once with-
in my reach.
I was in the act of lifting up the lid, when Mr.
Falkland entered, wild, breathless, distraction in his
looks! He had been brought home from a consider-
able distance by the sight of the flames. At the mo-
ment of his appearance the lid dropped down from
my hand. He no sooner saw me, than his eyes
emitted sparks of rage. He ran with eagerness to a
hrace of loaded pistols which hung up in the room,
and, seizing one, presented it to my head. I saw
his design, and sprang to avoid it; but, with the same
rapidity with which he had formed his resolution, he
changed it, and instantly went to the wiudow and
flang the pistol into the court below. He bade me
begone with his usual irresistible energy; and, over-
come as I was already by the horror of the detection,
I eagerly complied.
A moment after a considerable part of the chim.
ney tumbled with noise into the court below, and a
voice exclaimed that the fire was more violent than
ever. These circumstances seemed to produce a
mechanical effect upon my master, who, having first
locked the closet, appeared on the outside of the
house, ascended the roof, and was in a moment in
every place where his presence was required. The
flames were presently extinguished
The reader can with difficulty form a conception of
he state to which I was now reduced. My act was
in some sort an act of insanity ; but how undescriba-
ble are the feelings with which I looked back upon


We
Te.
vitch.
а газ
eness
ants
nare
Deen
ose,
7ea



London, Published Aug
14,1824, by S.Fisher:
7. Rolls, sculp.
H'Hepwood, da
At the moment of M.Falklando' appearance
the lid dropped. He ran to a brace of loaded
Pistols, and presented one to my head.
Page 138


CALEB WILLIAMS.
130
it! It was an instantaneous impulse, a short-livea
and passing alienatior of mind; but what roust Mr.
Falkland think of that alienation ? To any man, a
person who had once shown himself capable of so
wild a flight of the mind, must appear dangerous ;
how must he appear to a man under Mr. Falkland's
circumstances ? I had just had a pistol held to my
head hy a man resolved to put a period to my exist-
ence. That indeed was past; but what was it that
fate had yet in reserve for me! The insatiable ven-
geance of a Falkland, of a man whose hands were
to my apprehension red with blood, and his thoughts
familiar with cruelty and murder. How great were
the resources of his mind, resources henceforth to be
confederated for my destruction! This was the termi-
nation of an ungoverned curiosity, an impulse that
I had represented to myself as so innocent or soʻ
venial!
In the high tide of boiling passion I had overlook-
ed all consequences. It now appeared to me like a
dream. Is it in man to leap from the high-raised
precipice, or rush unconcerned into the midst of
fames? Was it possible I could have forgotten for a
moment the awe-creating manners of Falkland, and
the inexorable fury I should awake in his soul ? No
thought of future security had reached my mind. I
had acted upon no plan. I had conceived no means
of concealing my deed, after it had once been ef-
fected. But it was over now. One short minute had
effected a reverse in my situation, the suddenness of
which the history of man perhaps is unable to pass.
I have always been at a loss to account for my
having plunged thus headlong into an act so mon-
strous. There is something in it of unremarked and
involuntary sympathy. One sentiment flows by ne-
cessity of nature into another sentiment of the same
general character. This was the first instance in
which I had witnessed a danger by fire. All was
confusion around me, and all changed into hurricane
within. The general situation to my unpractised ap-
prehension partook of desperate, and I hy contagion
became alike desperate. At first I had been in soine
degree calm and collected, but that too was a des-
perate effort, and when it gave way, a kind of in-
stant insanity became its suceessor.
I had now every thing to fear. And yet what was
my fault? It proceeded from none of those errors


140
ADVENTURES OF
which are justly held up to the aversion of mankind;
my obiect had been neither wealth, nor the means of
indulgence, nor the usurpation of power. No spark
of malignity had harboured in my sonl. I had al.
ways reverenced the sublime mind of Mr. Falkland;
I reverenced it still. My offence had merely heen a
mistaken thirst of knowledge. Such however it was
as to admit neither of forgiveness nor remission.
This epoch was the crisis of my fate, dividing what
may be called the offensive part, from the defensive
which was the sole business of my remaining years.
Alas, my offence was short, not aggravated by any
sinister intention : but the reprisals I was to suffer,
are long, and can terminate only with my life!
In the state in which I found myself when the re-
collection of what I had done flowed back upon my
mind, I was incapable of any resolution. All was
chaos and uncertainty within me. My thoughts were
too full of horror to be susceptible of activity. I felt
deserted of my intellectual powers, palsied in mind,
and compelled to sit in speechless expectation of the
misery to which I was destined. To my own con-
ception I was like a man, who, though hlasted with
lightning and deprived for ever of the power of mo
tion, should yet retain the consciousness of his situ-
tion. Death-dealing despair was the only idea of
which I was sensible.
I was still in this situation of mind when Mr. Falk-
land sent for me. His message roused me from my
trance. In recovering I felt those sickening and
loathsome sensations, which a man may be supposed
at first to endure who should return from the sleep of
death. Gradually I recovered the power of arrang-
ing my ideas and directing my steps. I understood
that, the minute the affair of the chimney was over,
Mr. Palkland had retired to his own room. It was
evening hefore he ordered me to be called
I found in him every token of extreme distress, ex-
cept that there was an air of solemn and sad com-
posure that crowned the whole. For the present all
appearance of gloom, stateliness and austerity was
gone. As I entered, he looked up, and, seeing who
it was, ordered me to bolt the door. I obeyed. He
himself went round the room, and examined all its
other avenues. He then returned to where I was.
I trembled in every joint of my frame. I exclaimed
within myself, “ What scene of death has Roscius
now to act ?”'


CALEB WILLIAMS. 141
Williams, said he, in a tone that had more in it of
sorrow than resentment, I have attempted your life!
I am a wretch devoted to the scorn and execration of
mankind !- There he stopped.
If there be one being in the whole earth, that feels
the scorn and execration dae to such a wretch more
strongly than another, it is myslf. I have been kept
in a state of perpetual torture and madness. But I
can put an end to it and its consequences; and, so
far at least as relates to you, I am determined to do
it. I know the price, and I will make the pur-
chase.
You must swear, said he. You must attest every
sacrament, divine and human, never to disclose what
I am now to tell you.--He dictated the oath, and I
repeated it with an aching heart. I had no power to
offer a word of remark.
This confidence, said he, is of your seeking, not of
mine. It is odious to me, as it is dangerous to you.
Having thus prefaced the disclosure he had to
make, he paused. He seemed to collect himself as
for an effort of magnitude. He wiped his face with
his handkerchief. The moisture that incommoded
him appeared not to be tears, but sweat.
Look at me. Observe me. It is not strange that
such a one as I should retain lineaments of a human
creature? I am the blackest of villains. I am the
murderer of Tyrrel. I am the assassin of the Haw-
kinses.
I started with terror, but was silent.
What a story is mine! Josulted, disgraced, pollut-
ed in the face of hundreds, I was capable of any act
of desperation. I watched my opportunity, followed
Mr. Tyrrel from the rooms, seized a sharp-pointed
knife that fell in my way, came behind him, and stab-
bed him to the heart. My gigantic oppressor rolled
at my feet.
All are but links of one chain. A blow! A mor-
der! My next business was to defend myself, to tell
so well digested a lie, as that all mankind should
believe it true. Never was a task so harrowing and
intolerable!
Well: thus far fortune favoured me. She favour.
ed me beyond my desire. The guilt was removed
from me, and cast upon another; but this I was to
endure. Whence came the circumstantial evidence
against him, the broken knife and the blood, I am un-


142
ADVENTURES OF
able to tell. I suppose by some miraculous accident
he was passing by, and endeavoured to assist his op-
pressor in the agonies of death. You have heard
Hawkins's story; you have read one of his letters.
But you do not know the thousandth part of the proofs
of his simple and unalterable rectitude that I have
known. His son suffered with him, that son for the
sake of whose happiness and virtue he ruined him-
self, and would have died a hundred times. — I
have had feelings, but I cannot describe them.
This it is to be a gentleman! a man of honour! I
was the fool of fame. My virtue, my honesty, my
everlasting peace of mind were cheap sacrifices to
be made at the shrine of this divinity. But what is
worse, there is nothing that has happened that has in
any degree contributed to my cure. I am as much
the fool of fame as ever. I cling to it as to my last
breath. Though I be the blackest of villains, I will
leave behind me a spotless and illustrious name.
There is no crime so malignant, no scene of blood so
horrible, in which that object cannot engage me. It
is no matter that I regard these things at a distance
with aversion ;- I am sure of it; bring me to the
test, and I shall yield. I despise myself; but thus I
am ; things are gone too far to be recalled.
Why is it that I am compelled to this confidence?
From the love of fame. I should tremble at the sight
of every pistol, or instrument of death that offered
itself to my hands; and perhaps my next murder may
not be so fortunate as those I have already commit-
ted. I had no alternative but to make you my confi.
dent or my victim. It was better to trust you with
the whole truth under every seal of secrecy, than to
live in perpetual fear of your penetration or your
rashness.
Do you know what it is you have done ? To gratify
a foolishly inquisite humour yon have sold yourseli.
You shall continue in my service, but can never share
in my affection. I will benefit you in respect of for-
tune, but I shall always hate you. If ever an unguard-
ed word escape from your lips, if ever you excite my
jealousy or suspicion, except to pay for it by your
death or worse. It is a dear bargain you have made
But it is too late to look back. I charge and adjure
you by every thing that is sacred and that is tremen-
dous, preserve your faith!
My tongue has now for the first time for several
!


CALEB WILLIAMS.
143
years spoken the language of my heart; and the in-
tercourse from this hour shall be shut for ever. I
want no pity. I desire no consolation. Surrounded
as I am with horrors, I will at least preserve my for-
titude to the last. If I had been reserved to a different
destiny, I have qualities in that respect worthy of a
better cause. I can be mad, miserable and frantic,
but'even in frenzy I can preserve my presence of
mind and discretion.
Such was the story I had been so desirous to know.
Though my mind had brooded upon the subject for
months, there was not a syllable of it that did not
come to my ear with the most perfect sense of novel-
ty. Mr. Falkland is a murderer ! said I, as I retired
from the conference. This dreadful appellative “ a
murderer,” made my very blood run cold within me.
He killed Mr. Tyrrel, for he could not control liis
resentment and anger: he sacrificed Hawkins the
elder and Hawkins the younger, because he could
upon no terms endure the public loss of honour: how
can I expect that a man thus passionate and unrelent-
ing will not sooner or later make me his victim ?
Bat, notwithstanding this terrible application of the
story, an application to which perhaps in some form
or other mankind are indebted for pine tenths of their
abhorrence against vice, I could not help occasionally
recurring to reflections of an opposite nature. ME.
Falkland is a murderer, resumed I. He might yet he
a most excellent man, if he did but think so.' It is
the thinking ourselves vicious then, that principally
contributes to make us vicious ?
Amidst the shock I received from finding, what I
had never suffered myself constantly to believe, that
my suspicions were true ; I still discover new cause
of admiration for my master. His menaces indeed
were terrible. But, when I recollected the offence
I had given, so contrary to every received principle
of civilized society, so insolent and rude, so intoler-
able to a man of Mr. Falkland's elevation, and in
Mr. Falkland's peculiarity of circumstances, I was
astonished at his forbearance. There were indeed
sufficiently obvious reasons why he might not choose
to proceed to extremities with me. But how different
from the fearful expectations I had conceived were
the calmness of his behaviour and the regulated mild-
ness of liis language ! In this respect I for a short
biur imagined that I was emancipated from the mis.


144
ADVENTURES OF
chiefs which had apalled me, and that in having to
do with a man of Mr. Falkland's liberality, I had no-
thing rigorous to apprehend.
It is a miserable prospect, said I, that he holds up
to me. He imagines that I am restrained by no prin-
ciples, and deaf to the claims of personal excellence.
But he shall find himself mistaken. I will never be-
come an informer. I will never injure my master :
and therefore he will not be my enemy. With all
his misfortunes, and all his errors, I feel that my soul
yearns for his welfare. If he have been criminal,
that is owing to circumstances; the same qualities
under other circumstances would have been, or ra-
ther were, sublimely beneficent.
My reasonings were no doubt infinitely more fa-
vourable to my master than those which human be-
ings are accustomed to make in the case of such as
they style great criminals. This will not be wonder-
ed at, when it is considered that I had myself just
been trampling on the established boundaries of obli-
gation, and therefore might well have a fellow feel.
ing for other offenders. Add to which, I had known
Mr. Falkland from the first as a beneficient divinity.
I had observed at leisure, and with a minuteness
which could not deceive me, the excellent qualities
of his heart, and I found him possessed of a mind
beyond comparison, the most fertile and accomplish-
ed I had ever known.
But, th Jugh the terrors which had impressed me
were considerably alleviated, my situation was nota
withstanding sufficiently miserable. The ease and
light-heartedness of my youth were for ever gone.
The voice of an irresistible necessity had command-
ed me to “sleep no more.” I was tormented with a
secret of which I must never disburthen myself; and
this consciousness was at my age a source of perpe,
tual melancholy. I had made myself a prisoner, in
the most intolerable sense of that term, for years,
perhaps for the rest of my life. Though my prudence
and discretion should be invariable, I must remember
that I should have an overseer, vigilant from conscious
guilt, full of resentment at the unjustifiable means by
which I had extorted from him a confession, and
whose lightest caprice might at any time decide upon
every thing that was dear to me. The vigilance even
of a public and systematical despotism is poor, com-
pared with a vigilanca which is thus goaded by the


CALEB WILLIAMS. 145
cution to a
ontien
du
most anxious passions of the soul. Against these
species of persecution I knew not how to invent a
refuge. I dared neither fly from the observation of
Mr. Falkland, nor continue exposed to its operation.
I was at first indeed lulled in a certain degree to se.
curity upon the verge of the precipice. But it was
not long before I found a thousand circumstances per-
petually reminding me of my true situation. Those
I am now to relate are among the most memorable.
In no long time after the disclosure Mr. Falkland
had made, Mr. Forester, his elder brother by the
mother's side, came to reside for a short period in
our family. This was a circumstance peculiarly ad-
verse to my master's habits and inclinations. He had
broken off, as I have already said, all intercourse of
Visiting with his neighbours. He debarred himself
every kind of amusement and relaxation. He shrunk
from the society of his fellows, and thought he could
never be sufficiently buried in obscurity and solitude.
This principle was in most cases of no difficult exe-
a man of firmness. But Mr. Falkland knew
not how to avoid the visit of Mr. Forester. This
gentleman was just returning from a residence of se-
veral years upon the continent, and his demand of an
apartment in the house of his half-brother, till his
own house at the distance of thirty miles should be
prepared for his reception, was made with an air of
confidence that scarcely admitted of a refusal. Mr.
Falkland could only say that the state of his health
and spirits was such, that he leared a residence at
his house would be little agreeable to his kinsman ;
and Mr. Forester conceived that this was a disqualifi-
cation which would always augment in proportion as
it was tolerated, and hoped that his society, by induc-,
ing Mr. Falkland to suspend his habits of seclusion,
would be the means of essential benefit. Mr. Falk-
land opposed him no further. He would have been
sorry to be thought unkind to a kinsman for whom he
had a particular esteem; and the consciousness of
not daring to assign the true reason, made him cau-
tions of adhering to his objection.
The character of Mr. Forester was in many res-
pects the reverse of that of my master. Like him
he had seen much of the world; but to judge of him
from the unfashioned bluntness of his manner, you
would have thought he had never stirred from
fire-side. Yet under this rude exterior it was easy


146
ADVENTURES OF
to distinguish various knowledge, nice discrimina-
tion, and a strong and active mind. He disclaimed
exaggeration of every kind, at the same time that he
was himself one of its grossest dupes. He affected
the ruggedness of the cynic who sees every thing in
the most splenetic colours, at the same time that his
heart was really full of the most friendly and bene-
volent affections. He affected a harsh and unrelent-
ing character, which, when it has once conceived
animosity, is inaccessible to mediation ; though it is
probable that where the offence had been only to
himself, the slightest degree of ingennogs confession
would have found him uncommonly placable. He
was positive in all things, even where good sense
required him to be sceptical; and he roughly imput-
ed perverseness, where true wisdom would have
tanght him to correct mistake. The same inconsis-
tency followed him throughout. Full of originality
and genius, he pretended to despise them in others
His favourite principle was to care nothing for what
the world should say, and to aim only at doing right.
So long as that debt was discharged, he would not
stoop to purchase, at the expence of moving a finger,
the applause of mankind in preference to their hatred.
He thought too meanly of that applause, to be willing
to acknowledge himself flattered with its possession,
or mortified at encountering the directly opposite.
He believed that the credit which is sometimes given
to men of ability. was the dishonest gains of a combi-
nation, not the just reward of merit; and he took
pleasure in stating this opinion in its harshest form.
He held that an honest ploughman is a more useful
member of society, than all the poets and philoso-
phers that ever existed. In a word, Mr. Forester
was one of those men who, with every seeming re-
quisite for the discovery of important truth, are all
their lives in subjection to the most contemptible pre-
judices.
The peculiarities of this gentleman's character were
not undisplayed in the scene to which he was now in.
troduced. Having much kindness in his disposition.
he soon became deeply interested in the unhappiness
of his relation. He did every thing in his power to
remove it; but his attempts were rude and unskilful.
He exhorted his host to rouse up his spirit, and defy
the foul fiend; but the tone of his exhortations found
no sympathetic chord in the mind of Mr. Falkland,


CALEB WILLIAMS.
147
The more he explained the articles of his creed, the
more irreconcileable did they appear with those of
my master. He had not the skill to carry conviction
to an understanding so well fortified in error; and the
less so, as the effort of his reflections had long been
turned, rather to a bold and masculine enunciation of
principles, than to analysing the rudiments out of
which they were formed. In a word, after a thou-
sand efforts of kindness to his entertainer, he drew
off his forces, growling and dissatisfied with his own
impotence, rather than angry at the obstinacy of Mr.
Falkland. He felt no diminution of his affection for
him, and was sincerely grieved to find that he did
him so little good. Both parties in this case did jus-
tice to the merits of the other; at the same time that
the disparity of their humours was such, as to prevent
the stranger from being in any degree a dangerous
companion to the master of the house. They had
scarcely any points of contact in their characters;
Mr. Forester was incapable of giving Mr. Falkland
that degree either of pain or pleasure, which can raise
the soul into a tumult and deprive it for a while of
tranquillity and self-command.
Our visitor was a man, notwithstanding appear-
ances, of a peculiarly sociable disposition, and where
he was neither interrupted nor contradicted, consider-
ably loqnacious. He began to feel himself painfully out
of his element upon the present occasion. Mr. Falk-
land was devoted to contemplation and solitude. He
put upon himself some degree of restraint upon the
arrival of his kinsman, though even then his darling
habits wonld break out. But, when they had seen
each other a certain number of times, and it was suf-
ficiently evident that the society of either would be a
burthen rather than a pleasure to the other, they con-
sented, by a sort of silent compact, that each should
be at liberty to follow his own inclination. Mr. Falk-
land was in a certain sense the greatest gainer by this.
He returned to the habits of his choice, and acted, as
nearly as possible, just as he would have done if Mr.
Forester had not been in existence. But the latter
was wholly at a loss. He had all the disadvantages
of retirement, without being able, as he might have
done at his house, to bring his own associates or his
own amusements about him.
In this situation he cast his eyes upon me. It was
his principle to do every thing that his thoughts sug-


148
ADVENTURES OF
gested, without caring for the forms of the world. He
saw no reason why a peasant, with certain advan-
tages of edụcation and opportunity, might not be as
eligible a companion as a lord; at the same time that
he was deeply impressed with the venerableness of
old mstitutions. Reduced as he was to a kind of last
resort, he found me better qualified for his purpose
than any other person of Mr. Falkland's household.
My habitual simplicity was probably agreeable to him;
and, be it observed by the way, he loved to counte-
nance the appearance of talents, while he professed
to be their enemy.
The manner in which he began this sort of corres-
pondence was sufficiently characteristical. It was
abrupt; but it was strongly stamped with essential
benevolence. It was blant and humorous; but there
was attractiveness, especially in a case of unequal
intercourse, in that very rusticity by which he level-
led himself with the great bulk of his species. He
- had to reconcile himself, as well as to invite me ; not
to reconcile himself to the postponing an aristocrati.
cal vanity, for of that he had a very slender portion,
but to the trouble of invitation, for he loved his ease.
All this produced some irregularity and indecision in
his own mind, and gave him a whimsical impression
to his behaviour.
On my part I was by no means ungrateful for the
distinction that was paid me. My mind had been re-
laxed into temporary dejection, but my reserve had
no alloy of moroseness or insensibility. It did not
long hold out against the condescending attentions of
Mr. Forester. I became gradually heedful, encou-
raged, confiding. I had a most eager thirst for the
knowledge of mankind ; and, though no person
perhaps ever purchased so dearly the instructions
he received in that school, the inclination was in no
degree diminished. Mr. Forester was the second
man I had seen uncommonly worthy of my analysis,
and who seemed almost as much deserving to be stu-
died as Mr. Falkland himself. I was glad to escape
from the uneasiness of my thoughts; and, while en-
gaged with this new friend, I forgot the criticalness
of the evils with which I was hourly menaced.
Stimulated by these feelings I was what Mr. Fo
rester wanted, a diligent and zealous hearer. I was
strongly susceptible of impression; and the alternate
impressions my mind received, visibly displayed them-
no alloy of morainst the condesally heedful


CALEB WILLIAMS.
149
„selves in my countenance and gestures. The obser-
vations Mr. Forester had made in his travels, the set
of opinions he had formed, all amused and interested
me. His manner of telling a story, or explaining his
thonghts was forcible, perspicuous and original ; his
style in conversation had an uncommon zest, which,
while it seemed to disdain ornament, was unconsci-
ously interspersed with the boldest figures; and often
wandered into all the vehemence of oratory, while it
affected to be blunt, simple and abrupt. "Nor was
the part I sustained upon these occasions without its
recommendations. Man necessarily loves an inter-
change of ideas; and where, as was the case with
Mr. Forester, he has been so spoiled as to shrink from
this interchange upon equal terms, he accepts with
peculiar pleasure, by way of compromise, short, in-
frequent, and modest suggestions. Such were the
conditions of oar intercourse. It is not to be won-
dered at therefore, that every day rendered it more
intimate and co
Mr. Falkland was destined to be for ever unhappy;
and it seemed as if no new incident could occur,
from which he was not able to extract food for this
imperious propensity. He was wearied with a per-
petual repetition of similar impressions, and entertain-
ed an invincible disgust against all that was new.
The visit of Mr. Forester he regarded with antipathy.
He was scarcely able to look at him without shud-
dering; an emotion which his guest perceived, and
pitied as the result of habit and disease, rather than of
judgment. None of his actions passed unremarked;
the most indifferent excited uneasiness and appre-
hension. The first overtures of intimacy between me
and Mr. Forester probably gave birth to sentiments
of jealousy in the mind of my master. At this time
he intimated to me that it was not agreeable to him,
'that there should be much intercourse between me
and his visitor.
What could I do? Young as I was, could it be
expected that I should play the philosopher, and put
a perpetual curb upon my inclinations? Imprudent
thuugh I had been, could I voluntarily subject myself
to an eternal penance, and estrangement from hq.
man society? Could I discourage a frankness so per
fectly in consonance with my wishes, and receive in
an ungracions way a kindness that stole away my
heart?


150
ADVENTURES OF
Beside this, I was but in prepared for the servile
kubmission Mr. Falkland demanded. In early life I
was accustomed to be much my own master. When
I first entered into Mr. Falkland's service, my personal
habits were checked by the novelty of my situation,
and my affections were gained by the high accom
plishments of my patron. To novelty and its influ-
ence, curiosity had succeeded. Curiosity, so long as
it lasted, was a principle stronger in my bosom than
even the love of independence. To that I would have
sacrificed my liberty or my life ; I would have sub.
mitted to the condition of a West Indian Negro, or to
the tortnres inflicted by North American savages.
But the turbulence of curiosity had now subsided.
As long as the threats of Mr. Falkland had been
confined to generals, I endured it. I was conscious
of the unbecoming action I had committed, and this
rendered me humble. But, when he went further,
and undertook to prescribe to every article of my
conduct, my patience was at an end. He stretched
his power beyond the limits of policy and prudence,
and thus brought its very existence into question. I
believed that nothing, which his rage irritated by the
most open rebellion could inflict, would he worse
than the slavery he now pretended to impose. I had
been adventurous in the gratification of an infantine
and anreasonable curiosity, and I was resolved not
to he less adventurous, if need were, in the defence
of every thing that can make life a blessing. I was
prepared for an amicable adjustment of interests; I
would undertake that Mr. Falkland should never sas
tain injury through my means; hut I expected in re-
turn that I should suffer no incroachment, hut he left
to the direction of my own widerstanding.
I went on thep to seek Mr. Forester's society with
eagerness; and it is the nature of an intercourse that
does not decline, progressively to increase. Mr.
Falkland observed these symptoms with visible per-
turbation. Whenever I was conscious of their being
perceived by him, I betrayed tokens of confusion;
this did not tend to allay his uneasiness. One day he
spoke to me alone ; and, with a look of mysteriotis,
but terrible import, expressed himself thats :
Young man, take warning ! Perhaps this is the last
time you shall have an opportunity to take it! I will
not always be the hutt of your simplicity and inexpe.
rience nor suffer your weakness to triumph over my


CALEB WILLIAMS, 151
strength! Why do you trifle with me? You little
suspect the extent of my power. At this moment
you are inclosed with the snares of my vengeance,
unseen by you, and at the instant that you flatter your-
self you are already beyond their reach, they will
close upon you. You might as well think of escaping
from the power of the omnipresept God, as from
mine! If you could touch so much as my finger, you
should expiate it in hours and months and years of a
torment, of which as yet you have not the remotest
idea! Remember! I am not talking at random ! I
do not utter a word, that, if yon provoke me, shall not
be executed to the severest letter!
It may be supposed that these menaces were not
without their effect. I withdrew in silence. My
whole soul revolted against the treatment Í epdured,
and yet I could not atter a word. Why could not I
speak the expostulations of my heart, or propose the
compromise I meditated ? It was inexperience, and
not want of strength, that awed me. Every act of
Mr. Falkland contained something new, and I was
unprepared to meet it. Perhaps it will be found that
the greatest hero owes the propriety of his conduct,
to the habit of encountering difficulties and calling
out with promptness the energies of his mind.
I contemplated the proceedings of my master with
the deepest astonishment. Humanity and general
kindness were fundamental parts of his character;
but in relation to me they were sterile and inactive.
His own interest required that he should purchase
my kindness; but he preferred to govern me by ter.
ror, and watch me with unceasing anxiety. I rumi.
nated with the most mournful sensations upon the na-
ture of my calamity. I believed that no human be-
ing was ever placed in a situation so pitiable as mine.
Every atom of my frame seemed to have a several
existence, and to crawl within me. I had but too
much reason to believe that Mr. Falkland's were not
empty words. I knew his ability ; I felt his ascen-
dancy. If I encountered him, what chance had į of
victory? If I were defeated, that was the penalty I
had to suffer? Well then, the rest of my life must be
devoted to slavish subjection ? Miserable sentence!
And if it were, what security have I against the in-
justice of a man, vigilant capricious and criminal? I
envied the condemned wretch upon the scaffold. I
envied the victim of the inquisition in the midst of


152
ADVENTURES OF
his torture. They know what they have to suffer. I
have only to imagine every thing terrible, and then
say, The fate reserved for me is worse than this!
It was well for me that these sensations were tran-
sient: human nature could not long support itself
under what I then felt. By degrees my mind shook
off its burthen. Indignation succeeded to emotions
of terror. The hostility of Mr Falkland excited
hostility in me. I was determined I would never
calumniate him in matters of the most trivial import;
much less betray the grand secret upon which every
thing dear to him depended. But, totally abjuring
the offensive, I resolved to stand firmly upon the de-
fensive. The liberty of acting as I pleased I would
preserve, whatever might be the risque. If I were
worsted in the contest, I would at least have the
consolation of reflecting that I had exerted myself
with energy. In proportion as I thus determined. I
drew off my forces from petty incursions, and felt
the propriety of acting with premeditation and sys-
tem." I runinated incessantly upon plans of deli-
verance, but I was anxious that my choice should
not be precipitately made.
It was during this period of my deliberation and
uncertainty, that Mr. Forester terminated his visit.
He observed a strange distance in my behaviour,
and in his good-natured, rough way reproached me
for it. I could only answer with a gloomy look of
mysterious import, and a mournful and expressive
silence. He sought me for an explanation, but I was
now as ingenious in avoiding, as I had before been
ardent to seek him; and he quitted our house, as he
afterwards told me, with an impression, that there
was some ill destiny that hung over it, which seemed
fated to make all its inhabitants miserable, without
its being possible for a by-stander to penetrate the
reason.
Mr. Forester had left us about three weeks, when
Mr. Falkland sent me upon some business to an es-
tate he possessed in a nei hbouring county about fifty
miles from his principal residence. The road led in
a direction wholly wide of the habitation of our late
visitor. I was upon my return from the place to
which I had been sent, when I began in fancy to
take a survey of the various circumstances of my
condition, and by degrees lost, in the profoundness
of my contemplation, all attention to the surround-


CALEB WILLIAMS.
153
ing objects. The first determination of my mind
was to escape from the lynx-eyed jealousy and des-
potism of Nr. Falkland; the second to provide, by
every effort of prudence and deliberation I could
devise, against the danger with which I well knew
my attempt must be accompanied
Occupied with these meditations, I rode many
miles, before I perceived that I had totally deviated
from the right path. At length I roused myself, and
surveyed the horizon round me; but I could observe
nothing with which my eye was previously acquaint-
ed. On three sides the heath stretched as far as
the eye could reach; on the fourth, I discovered at
some distance a wood of no ordinary dimensions.
Before me scarcely a single track could be found to
mark that any human being had ever visited the spot.
As the best expedient I could devise, I hent my
course towards the wood I have mentioned, and then
pursued as well as I was able the windings of the
inclosure. This led me after some time to the end of
the heath, but I was still as much at a loss as ever
respecting the road I should pursue. The sun was
lul from me by a grey and cloudy atmosphere; I
was induced to continue along the skirts of the wood,
and surmounted with some difficulty the hedges and
other obstacles that from time to time presented
themselves. My thoughts were gloomy and discon-
${}ite; the dreariness of the day, and the solitude
hich surrounded me, seemed to communicate a
Hulness to my soul. I had proceeded a considerable
Way, and was overcome with hunger and fatigue,
when I discovered a road and a little inn at no great
distance. I made up to them, and upon enquiry
found that, instead of pursuing the proper direction,
I had taken one that led to Mr. Forester's rather
than to my own habitation. I alighted, and was en-
tering the house, when the appearance of that gen-
tleman struck my eyes.
Mr. Forester accosted me with kindness, invitea
me into the room where he had been sitting, and en-
quired what accident had brought me to that place.
While he was speaking, I could not help recollect-
ing the extraordinary manner in which we were thus
once more brought together, and a train of ideas was
by this means suggested to my mind. Some refresh-
ment was by Mr. Forester's order prepared for me;
I sat down, and partook of it. Still this thought


154
ADVENTURES OF
dwelt upon my recollection:- Mr. Falkland will
never be made acquainted with our meeting; I have
an opportunity thrown in my way, which if I do not
improve, I shall deserve all the consequences that
may result. I can now converse with a friend, and
a powerful friend, without fear of being watched
and overlooked. What wonder that I was tempted
to disclose, not Mr. Falkland's secret, but my own
situation, and receive the advice of a man of 'worth
and experience, which might perhaps be adequately
done without entering into any detail injurious to my
master ?
Mr. Forester on his part expressed a desire to
learn, why it was I thought myself unhappy, and
why I had avoided him during the latter part of his
residence under the same roof, as evidently as I had
before taken pleasure in his communications. I re-
plied, that I could give him but an imperfect satis-
faction upon these points ; but what I could, I would
willingly explain. The fact, I proceeded, was, that
there were reasons which rendered it impossible for
me to have a tranquil moment under the roof of Mr.
Falkland. I had revolved the matter again and
again in my mind, and was finally convinced that I
owed it to myself to withdraw from his service. I
added, that I was sensible by this half-confidence I
might rather seem to merit the disapprobation of Mr.
Forester than his countenance; but 1 declared my
persuasion that, if he could be acquainted with the
whole affair, however strange my behaviour might
at present appear, he would applaud my reserve.
He appeared to muse for a moment upon what I
had said, and then asked what reason I could have
to complain of Mr. Falkland ? I replied, that I en-
tertained the deepest reverence for my master; I
admired his abilities, and considered him as formed
for the benefit of his species. I should in my own
opinion be the vilest of miscreants, if Į nttered a
whisper to his disadvantage. Bạt all this did not
avail: I was not fit for him; perhaps I was not good
enough for him; at all events I must be perpetually
miserable so long as I continued to live with him.
I observed Mr. Forester gaze upon me eagerly
with curiosity and surprise, but this circumstance I
did not think proper to notice. Having recovered
himself, he enquired, why then, that being the case,
I did not quit his service ? I answered, What he


CALEB WILLIAMS. 155
how touched upon was that which most of all 'con-
tributed to my misfortune. Mr. Falkland was not
ignorant of my dislike to my present situation; per-
haps he thought it unreasonable, unjust; but I knew
that he would never be brought to consent to my
giving way to it.
Here Mr. Forester interrupted me; and, smiling,
said, I magnified obstacles, and overrated my own
importance, adding that he would undertake to re-
move that difficulty, as well as to provide me with a
more agreeable appointment. This suggestion pro.
duced in me a serious alarm. I replied, that I must
intreat him upon no account to think of applying to
Mr. Falkland upon the subject. I added, that per-
haps I was only betraying iny own imbecility ; hút in
reality, unacquainted as I was with experience and
the world, I was afraid, though disgusted with my
present residence, to expose myself upon a mere
project of my own, to the resentment of so consider-
able a man as Mr. Falkland. If he would favour
me with his advice upon the subject, or if he would
only give me leave to hope for his protection in case
of any unforeseen accident, this was all I pres:med
to request; and, thus encouraged, I would venture
to obey the dictates of my inclination, and fly in
pursuit of my lost tranquillity.
Having thús opened myself to this generous friend
as far as I could do it with propriety and safety, he
sat for some time silent with an air of deep reflec-
tion. At length with a countenance of unusual se-
verity he thus addressed me: Young man, I am
afraid you are ignorant of the nature of the tale you
have been telling me. There is mystery in it; there
is something you cannot prevail upon yourself to dis-
close. Mystery always implies somewhere an un-
common portion of wrong ; what am I to think of
you? Are you aware of the prejudice you are cre-
ating against yourself upon the threshold of life?,
I answered that, whatever were the amount of
that prejudice, I must submit. I placed my hope of
a candid construction in the present instance, in the
rectitude of his nature,
He went on : Well, he that as you please. It was
my business to tell you what you were doing. I as-
sure you that I hy no means approve of such con-
duct and I am satisfied no explanation can ever
show it to be what it ought to be." Why should you


CALEB WILLIAMS. 187
What must he think of this? How must he sup
pose I came to that place? The truth, if told, tha
I came there without design, and purely in conse-
quence of having lost my way, must appear to be
the most palpable lie that ever was devised.
Here then I stood detected in the fact of that in-
tercourse which had been so severely forbidden.
But in this instancc it was infinitely worse, than in
those which had already given so much disturbance
to Mr. Falkland. It was then frank and uncon-
cealed; and therefore the presumption was, that it
was for purposes that required no concealment. But
the present interview, if concerted, was in the most
emphatical degree clandestine. Nor was it less pe-
rilous than it was clandestine. It had been forbidden
with the most dreadful menaces, and Mr. Falkland
was not ignorant how deep an impression those me-
naces had made upon my imagination. Such a meet-
ing therefore could not have been concerted under
such circumstances for a trivial purpose, or for any
purpose that his heart did not quake to think of.
Such was the amount of my crine; such was the
agony my appearance was calculated to inspire; and
it was reasonable to suppose that the penalty I had
to expect would be proportionable. The threats of
Mr. Falkland still sounded in my ears, and I was in
a transport of terror.
The conduct of the same man in different circum-
stances is often so various as to render it very diffi-
cult to be accounted for. Mr. Falkland, in this to
him terrible crisis, did not seem to be in any degree
hurried away by his passions. For a moment he was
dumb, his eyes glared with astonishment; and the
next moment as it were, he had the most perfect
calmness and self-command. Had it heen otherwise,
I have no doubt that I should instantly have entered
into an explanation of the manner in which I camo
there, the ingenuousness and consistency of which
conld not but have been in some degree attended
with a favourable event. But as it was, I suffered
myself to be overcome; I yielded as in a former in-
stance to the discomfiting influence of surprise. I
dared scarcely breathe ; I observed the appearances
with equal anxiety and surprise. Mr. Falkland
quietly ordered me to return home, and take along
with me the groom he had brought with him. I
obeyed in silence.


158
ADVENTURES OF
I afterwards understood that he enquired minutely
of Mr. Forester the circumstances of our meeting,
and that that gentleman, perceiving that the meeting
itself was discovered, and guided by habits of frank-
ness, which, when once rooted in a character, it is
difficult to counteract, told Mr. Falkland every thing
that had passed, together with the remarks it had
suggested to his own mind. Mr. Falkland received
the communication with an ambiguons and studied
silence, which by no means operated to my advan-
tage in the already poisoned mind of Mr. Forester.
His silence was partly the direct consequence of a
mind watchful, inquisitive, and doubting, and partly
perhaps was adopted for the sake of the effect it was
qualified to produce, Mr. Falkland not being onwil.
ling to encourage a prejudice against the character of
a person which might one day come in competition
with his own.
As to me, I went home indeed, for this was not a
moment to resist. Mr. Falkland, with a premedita-
tion to which he had given the appearance of acci-
dent, had taken care to send with me a guard to
attend upon his prisoner. I seemed as if conducting
to one of those fortresses, famed in the history of
despotism, fronı whioh the wretched victim is never
known to escape ; and, when I entered my chamber,
I felt as if I were entering a dungeon. I reflected
that I was at the mercy of a man, exasperated at
my disobedience, and who was already formed to
cruelty by successive murders. I had occasionally
indulged in visions of pleasure, authority, and honour,
as the attendants of my maturor years: who has not?
especially who, with an imagination as busy and a
spirit as ardent as mine? All these prospects were
now closed; I was cut off for ever from pursuits that.
I had meditated with ineffable delight; my death
might be the event of a few hours. I was a victim
at the shrine of conscious guilt, that knew neither
rest nor satiety; I should be blotted from the cata-
logne of the living, and my fate remain eternally a
secret; the man who added my murder to his former
crimes, would show himself the next morning, and
be hailed with the admiration and applause of his
species.
In the midst of these terrible imaginations one
idea presented itself that alleviated my feelings.


CALEB WILLIAMS
159
po
This was the recollection of the strange and unac-
countable tranquillity which Mr. Falkland had mani-
fested, when he discovered me in company with Mr.
Forester. I was not deceived by this. I knew that
this calm was temporary, and would be succeeded
by a tumult and whirlwind of the most dreadful sort.
But a man under the power of such terrors as now
occupied me, catches at every reed. I said to my-
self, that this tranquillity was a period it was incupi-
bent upon me to improve; and the shorter its duration
might be found, the more speedy was I obliged to be
in the use of it. I could not endure the thonght that
the apprehensions I now entertained, should be
realised through the neglect of any exertion or even
daring on my part. In a word, I took the resolution,
because I already stood in fear of the vengeance of
Mr. Falkland, to risque the possibility of provoking
it in a degree still more inexpiable, and terminate at
once my present state of uncertainty. Add to which,
I had now opened my case to Mr. Forester, and he
had given me positive assurances of his protection.
This in the present desperation of my fortune was an
idea to which my mind willingly had recourse for
support and consolation.-Instigated by these re-
flections, I sat down to address the following letter
to Mr. Falkland.
.
.
-
Sir,
I have conceived the intention of quitting your
service. This is a measure we ought both of us to
desire. I shall then be, what it is my duty to be, the
master of my own actioạs. You will be delivered
from the presence of a person, whom you cannot
prevail upon yourself to behold without unpleasing
emotions.
Why should you subject me to an eternal penance ?
Why should you consign all my youthful hopes to
suffering and despair? Consult the principles of
humanity that have marked the general course of
your proceedings, and do not let me, I intreat you,
be made the subject of a useless severity. My heart
is impressed with gratitade for your favours. "I sin
cerely ask your forgiveness for the many errors of
my conduct. I consider the treatment I have re,
ceived under your roof as one almost uninterrupted
scene of kindņess and generosity. I shall never


160 ADVENTURES OF
forget my obligations to you, and will never betray
them.
I remain, sir,
Your most grateful, respectful, and dutiful
servant,
CALEB WILLIAMS.
Such was my employment of the evening of a day,
which will be ever memorable in the history of my
life. Mr. Falkland not being yet returned, though
expected every hour, I was induced to make use of
the pretext of fatigue to avoid an interview. I went
to bed. The next morning I was informed, that he
did not come home till late, that he had enquired for
me, and, being told that I was in bed, he said no-
thing further upon the subject. Satisfied in this re-
spect, I went to the breakfasting parlour, and ba-
sied myself for some time in arranging a few books,
and some other little occupations, till Mr. Falkland
should appear. After a little time I heard his step,
which I perfectly well knew how to distinguish, in
the passage. Presently, he stopped, and, speaking
to some one in a sort of deliberate, hut smothered
voice, I overheard him repeat my narne as enquiring
for me. In conformity to the plan I had persuaded
myself to adopt, I now laid the letter I had written
upon the table at which he usually sat, and made my
exit at one door as Mr. Falkland entered at the other
This done, I withdrew in expectation of the event to
a private apartment, a sort of light closet at the end
of the library, where I was accustomed not unfre-
quently to sit.
I had not been here three minutes, when I heard
the voice of Mr. Falkland calling me. I went to him
in the library. That is your letter, said he, throw-
ing it. His manner was that of a man labouring with
some dreadful thought, and endeavouring to give an
air of carelessness and insensibility to his hehaviour.
I think no carriage of any other sort could have pro-
duced a sensation of such inexplicable horror, or
have excited in the person who was most immedi-
ately its object, such an alarm for the event.
My lad, continued he, I believe now you have
played almost all your tricks, and the farce is nearly
at an end! With your apishness and absurdity:
however, you have taught me one thing, and, where:
as hefore now I have winced at them with torture, I.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
161
am now as tough as an elephant. I shall crush you
in the end with the same indifference that I would
any other little insect that disturhed my serenity.
I believe you have decided your fate. I think
myself sure that you will never have done till you
have brought my whole weight upon you. You may
try however. Your only chance is in passiveness. I
am now perfectly insensible to every thing you can
suffer, but I have no pleasure in it. I will let you
alone, if I can.
I am unable to tell what brought about your meet-
ing with Mr. Forester yesterday. It might be design;
it might be accident. But, he it which it wilt, I
shall not forget it. You write me here, that you are
desirous to quit my service. To that I have a short
answer, You shall never quit it with life. If you
attempt it, you shall never cease to rue your folly as
long as you exist. That is my will; and I will not
have it resisted. The very next time you disokay
me in that or any other article, there is an end of
your vagaries for ever. Perhaps your situation may
be a pitiable one; it is for you to look to that. 1
only know that it is in your power to prevent its
growing worse ; no time nor chance shall ever make
it better.
Do not imagine I am afraid of you! I wear an
armour, against which all your weapons are impo-
tent. I have dug a pit for you ; and, whichever way
you move, backward or forward, to the right or to
the left, it is ready to swallow you. Be still! If
once you fall, call as loud as you will, no man on
earth shall hear yonr cries; prepare a tale ever so
plausible, or ever so true. the whole world shall
execrate you as an impostor. Your innocence shall
be of no service to you; I laugh at so feeble a de-
fence. It is I that say it; you may believe what I
tell you. Do you not know, miserable wretch' added
he, suddenly altering his tone, and stamping upon
the ground with fury, that I have sworn to preserve
my reputation whatever he the expence, that I love
it more than the whole world and its inhabitants taken
together? And do you think that yoirshall wound
it? Begone, miscreant! reptile! and cease to con:
tend with unsurmountable power!
The part of my history which I am now relating is
that which I reflect upon with the least complacency.
Why was it that I was once more totally overcome


182
ADVENTURES OF
by the imperious carriage of Mr. Falkland, and up-
able to utter a word ? The reader will be presented
with many occasions in the sequel in which I wanted
neither facility in the invention of expedients, nor
fortitude in entering upon my justification. Persecu-
tion at length gave firmness to my character, and
taught me the hetter part of manhood. But in the
present instance I was irresolute, overawed, and
abashed.
The speech I had heard was the dictate of frenzy,
and it created in me a similar frenzy. It determined
me to do the very thing against which I was thus so-
lemnly warned, and fly from my master's house. I
could not enter into parley with him; I conld no
longer endure the vile subjugation he imposed on me.
It was in vain that my reason warned me of the
rashness of a measure to be taken without concert or
preparation. I seemed to be in a state in which
reason had no power. I felt as if I could coolly sur-
vey the several arguments of the case, perceive
that they had prudence, truth, and common sense on
their side ; and then answer, I am under the guid-
ance of a director more energetic than you.
I was not long in executing what I had thus rapid-
ly determined. I fixed on the evening of that very
day as the period of my evasion. Even in this short
interval, I had perhaps sufficient time for delibera-
tion. But all opportunity was useless to me; my
mind was fixed, and each succeeding moment only
increased the unspeakable eagerness with which I
meditated my escape. The hours usnally observed
hy our family in this country residence were regular;
and one in the morning was the time I selected for my
undertaking. I stole down quietly froin my chamber
with a lamp in my hand; I went along a passage that
led to a small door opening into the garden, and then
crossed the garden to a gate that intersected an elm
walk and a private horse path on the outside.
I conld scarcely helieve my good fortune in having
thus far executed my design with aut interruption.
The terrible images Mr. Falkland's menaces had
suggested to my mind, made me expert impediment
and detection at every step, though the impassioned
state of my mind impelled me to advance with des,
perate resolution. He probably, however, cointed
too securely upon the ascendancy of his sentiments


ADVENTURES OF : 163
ndio when imperiously pronounced, to think it necessary
sente in the present instance to take precautions 'against a
klein sinister event. For myself, I drew a favourable
EN omen as to the final result of my project, from the
smoothness of success that attended it in the outset.
w The first plan that had suggested itself to me was,
to go to the nearest public road, and take the earliest
stage for London. There I helieved I should be
most safe from discovery, if the vengeance of Mr.
Falkland should prompt him to pursue me ; and I did
not doubt, among the multiplied resources of the
metropolis, to find something which should suggest
to me an eligible mode of disposing of my person
and industry. I reserved Mr. Forester in my ar-
rangement as a last resource, not to be called forth
unless for immediate protection from the hand of per-
"Becution and power. I was destitute of that experi-
ence of the world, which can alone render us fertile
in resources, or even enable us to institute a just com-
parison between the resources that offer themselves.
I was like the fascinated animal that is seized with
the most terrible apprehensions, at the same time that
he is incapable of adequately considering for his own
safety.
The mode of my 'proceeding being digested, I
traced with a chearful heart the unfrequented path it
was now necessary for me to pursue. The night was
gloomy, and it drizzled with rain. But these were
circumstances I had scarcely the power to perceive;
all was sunshine and joy within me. I hardly felt
the ground; I repeated to myself a thonsand times,
I am free. What concern have I with danger and
alarm! I feel that I am free; I feel that I will con-
tinue so. What power is able to hold in chains a
mind ardent and determined? What power can
cause that man to die, whose whole soul commands
him to continue to live? I looked back with abhor-
rence to the subjection in which I had been held. I
did not hate the author of my misfortunes ; truth and
justice acquit me of that; I rather pitied the hard
destiny to which he seemed condemned. But I
thought with unspeakable loathing of those errors,
d in consequence of which every man is fated to be
more or less the tyrant or the slave. I was asto-
d nished at the folly of my species, that they did not
rise up as one man, and shake off chains so ignomi-
1


CALEB WILLIAMS.
366
the eventual delay of twenty-four hours from becom-
ing by any untoward event a source of new calamity.
It was by no means advisable to remain at the village
where I now was, during this interval; nor did I
even think it proper to employ it in proceeding on
foot along the great road. I therefore decided upon
making a circuit, the direction of which should seem
at first extremely wide of my intended route, and
then, suddenly taking a different inclination, should
enable me to arrive by the close of day, at a market-
town twelve miles nearer to the metropolis.
Having fixed the economy of the day, and per-
suaded myself that it was the best which under the
circumstances could be adopted, I dismissed for the
most part all farther anxieties from my mind, and
eagerly yielded myself up to the different amusements
that arose. I rested and went forward at the impulse
of the moment. At one time I reclined upon a bank
immersed in contemplation, and at another exerted
myself to analyse the prospects which succeeded
each other. The haziness of the morning was fol-
lowed by a spirit-stirring and beautiful day. With
the ductility so characteristic of a youthful mind, I
forgot the anguish which had lately been my continual
guest, and occupied myself entirely in dreams of
future novelty and felicity. I scarcely ever, in the
whole course of my existence, spent a day of more
various or exquisite gratification. It furnished a
strong and perhaps not an unsalatary contrast to the
terrors which had preceded, and the dreadfal scenes
that awaited me.
In the evening I arrived at the place of my destia
nation, and enquired for the inn at which the coach
was accustomed to call. As I entered the yard, I
was accosted by a man who rode into it at the same
moment, and asked me if my name were Williams.
Though it was already dark when I reached the
town, I had observed this man who passed me on
horseback in the opposite direction, about half a
mile on the other side of the town. There was am
inquisitiveness in his gesture that I did not like, and,
as far as I conld discern his figure, I pronounced bim
an ill-looking man. He had not passed me more
than two minutes before I heard the sound of a horse
advancing slowly hehind me. These circumstances
excited some degree of uneasy sensation in my mind
22


166 ADVENTURES OF
I'first mended my pace; and, this not appearing to
"answer the purpose, I afterwards loitered, that the
horseman might pass me. He did so; and, as I
glanced him, I thought I saw that it was the same
inan. He quickened the pace of his horse, and en-
tered the town. I followed, and it was not long be-
fore I perceived him at the door of an ale-house,
drinking a mug of beer. This however the darkness
prevented me from discovering, till I was in a man-
ner upon him. I pushed forward, and saw him no
more, till, as I have already said, he accosted me in
the inn-yard.
This adventure, while it wss passing, expelled the
gaiety of my mind, and filled me with anxiety. The
apprehension however that I felt, appeared to me
groundless; if I were pursued, I took it for granted
that it would be by some of Mr. Falkland's people,
and not by a stranger; and this man I was sure I had
never seen in my life. The darkness took from me
some of the simplest expedients of precaution. I
determined at least to proceed to the inn, and make
the necessary enquiries.
I no sooner heard the sound of the horse as I en-
tered the yard, and the question proposed to me by
the rider, than the dreadful certainty of what I feared
instantly took possession of my mind. Every inci-
dent connected with my late abhorred situation was
calculated to impress me with the deepest alarm.
My first thought was to betake myself to the fields,
and trust to the swiftness of my flight for safety.
But this was scarcely practicable ; I remarked that
my enemy was alone; and I believed that, man to
man, I might reasonably hope to get the hetter of
him, either by the firmness of my determination, or
the subtlety of my invention.
Thus determined, I replied in an impetuous and
peremptory tone, that I was the man he took me for;
adding, I guess your errand; but it is to no purposé.
You come to conduct me back to Falkland House;
but no force shall ever drag me to that place alive.
I have not taken my resolution without strong rea.
sons; and all the world shall not persuade me to al-
ter it. I am an Englishman; and it is the privilege
of an Englishman to be sole judge and master of his
own actions.
Yon are in the devil of a hurry, replied the man


CALEB WILLIAMS.
167
to guess my intentions, and tell your own But your
guess is right, and mayhap you may have reason to
be thankful that my errand is not something worse.
Sure enough the squire expects you; but I have a
letter, and, when you have read that, I suppose as
how you will come off a little of your stoutness. If
that does not answer, it will then be time to think
what is to be done next.
Thus saying, he gave me his letter, which was
from Mr. Forester, whom, as he told me, he had
left at Mr. Falkland's house. It was as follows:
WILLIAMS,
My brother Falkland has sent the bearer in pur-
suit of you. He expects that, if found, you will re-
turn with him. I expect so too. It is of the utmost
consequence to your future honour and character.
After reading these lines, if you are a villain and a
rascal, you will perhaps endeavour to fly. If your
conscience tells you, “Your are innocent,” you will
out of all doubt come back. Let me know whether
I have been your dupe ; and whether, while I was
won over by your seeming ingenuity, I was the tool
of a designing knave. If you come, I pledge myself
that, if you clear your reputation, you shall not only
be free to go wherever you please, but shall receive
every assistance it is in my power to give. Remen-
ber! I engage for nothing farther than that.
VALENTINE Forester.
. What a letter was this: To a mind like mine,
glowing with the love of virtue, such an address was
strong enough to draw the person to whom it was ad-
dressed from one end of the earth to the other.
Prisons, racks, and gibbets would have shrunk into
nothing in comparison with it. The ideas it suggested
had a tendency to fill the mind, and shut out the pos-
sibility of competition.
I repassed in my thoughts every memorable incin
dent that had happened to me under the roof of Mr.
Falkland. I could recollect nothing, except the at:
fair of the mysterious trunk, out of which the shadow
of an accusation of the nature alluded to in Mr.
Forester's letter could be extorted. In that instance
no doubt my conduct had been highly reprehensible,
and I had never looked back upon it without remorse
and self-condemnation. But I did not believe that it
was of the nature of those actions which can be
I


168
ADVENTURES OF
brought ander legal censure. I still less could per-
suade myself to believe that Mr. Falkland, who shud-
dered at the very possibility of his own detection, and
who considered himself as completely in my power,
would dare to bring forward a subject so closely con-
nected with that topic, which wakened eternal ago-
ny in his soul. In a word, the more I reflected on
the phrases of Mr. Forester's billet, the less could I
imagine the nature of those scenes to which they were
to serve as a prelude
The inscrutableness however of the mystery they
contained was by no means calculated to mitigate my
apprehensions. It served, on the contrary, to give
new pungency to my alarm. It overwhelmed every
quality of my mind ; except my fortitude. What re-
sources had my persecutor at his command ? It was
now that I began to fear him. All the apprehensions
that had before haunted my mind seemed, in compa-
rison with what I now felt, like the gambols of chil-
dren. But what could I do? This was an enemy to
face and not to fly. Tear me to pieces, exclaimed I,
tremendous and incomprehensible genius ! hang up
this miserable carcase to writhe beneath a burning
sun, inflict upon me unheard of and lingering tor-
tures !-that in some part or other of the earth you
might do! Bat my good name shall never be your
victim ! I will be heard; I will be understood ! AH
the arts of hell shall not prevent that! I may be un-
fortunate; but my very persecatrrs shall confess my
innocence!
Friend, said I to the bearer, after a considerable
interval spent in silence; you are right. This is in-
deed a very extraordinary letter you have brought
me; but it answers its purpose. I will certainly go
with you now, whatever be the consequence. No
person shall ever be able to impute blame to me, so
long as I have it in my power to clear myself. .
I conceived that, in the circumstances in which I
was placed by Mr. Forester's letter, it became me to
shew, not merely a willingness, but an alacrity and
impatience to return. We procured a second horse
from the village. We proceeded on our journey in
mutual silence. My mind was occupied again and
again in endeavouring to account for Mr. Forester's
letter ; but none of my attempts were productive of
satisfaction. I knew the inflexibility and sternnesg
of Mr. Falkland's mind in accomplishing the purposes


CALEB WILLIAMS
162
he had most at heart; but I also knew that every
virtuous and magnanimous principle was congenial
to his character.
When we arrived, midnight was already past, and
we were obliged to waken one of the servants to give
us admittance. I found that Mr. Forester had left
a message for me in consideration of the possibility
of my arrival during the night, directing me immedia
ately to go to bed, and to take care that I did not
come weary and exhausted to the business of the fol.
lowing day. I endeavoured to take his advice; but
my alumbers were unrefreshing and disturbed. This
did not discourage me; the singularity of my situa-
tion, my conjectures with respect to the present, my
apprehensions for the future, did not allow me to think
it possible that I would sink into a languid and inac-
tive state.
Next morning the first person I saw was Mr. Fore-
ster. He told me that he did not yet know what Mr.
Falkland had to allege against me, for that he had
refused to know. He had arrived at the house of his
brother by appointment on the preceding day to settle
some indispensible business, his intention having
been to depart the moment the business was finished,
as he knew that conduct on his part would be most
agreeable to Mr. Falkland. But he was no sooner
come than he found the whole house in confusion, the
alarm of my elopement having been given a few hours
before. Mr. Falkland had dispatched servants in all
directions in pursuit of me ; and the servant from the
market-town arrived at the same moment with Mr.
Forester, with intelligence that a person answering
the description he gave had been there very early in
the morning enquiring respecting the stage to London
Mr. Falkland seemed extremely disturbed at this
information, and exclaimed upon me with aerimony
as an unthankful and unnatural villain.
Mr. Forester replied; Have more command of
yourself, sir! Villain is a serious appellation, and
must not be trifled with. English men are free ; and
no man is to be charged with villainy, because he
changes one source of subsistence for another.
: Mr. Falkland shook his head, and with a smile ex-
pressive of acute sensibility said, Brother, brother,
you are the dupe of his art lalways considered him
with an eye of suspicion, and was aware of his de.
gravity. But I have just discovered


170
ADVENTURES OF
Stop, sir! interrupted Mr. Forester. I own!
thought that you might, in a moment of acrimony, he
employing harsh epithets in a sort of random style. "
But if you have a serious accusation to state, we must
not be told of that, till it is known whether the lad
be within reach of a hearing. I am indifferent myself
about the good opinion of others. It is what the
world bestows and retracts with so little thought, that
it is impossible to make any account of its decisions.
But that consideration does not authorise me lightly
to entertain an ill opinion of another. The slenderest
allowance I think I can make to such as I consign to
be the example and terror of their species, is that of
being heard in their own defence. It is a wise prin-
ciple that requires the judge to come into court totally
uninformed of the merits of the cause he is to try ;
and to that principle I am determined to conform as
an individual. I shall always think it right to be se-
vere and inflexible in my treatment of offenders ; but
the severity I exercise in the sequel, must be accom-
panied with impartiality and caution in what is pre-
liminary.
While Mr. Forester related to me these particu.
lars, he observed me ready to break out into some of
the expressions which the narrative suggested, hut he
would not suffer me to speak. No, said he ; I would
not hear Mr. Falkland against you; neither will I
hear you in your defence. I come to you at present
to speak and not to hear. I thought it right to warn
you of your danger, but I have nothing more to do
now. Reserve what you have to say to the proper
time. Make the best story you can for yourself; true,
if truth, as I hope, will serve your purpose ; but, if
not, the most plausible and ingenious you can invent.
That is what self-defence requires from every man
where, as it always happens to a man upon his trial,
he has the whole world against him, and has his own
battle to fight against the world. Farewel; and God
send you a good deliverance! If Mr. Falkland's ac-
cusation, whatever it he, shall appear premature, de-
pend upon having me more zealously your friend
than ever. If not, this is the last act of friendship
you will ever receive from me!
ay be believed that this address, so singular.
so solemn, so big with conditional menace, did not
greatly tend to assuage my anxieties. I was totally
ignorant of the charge to be advanced against me;
It ma


CALEB WILLIAMS. 171
and not a little astonished, when it was in my power
to be in the most formidable degree the accuser of
Mr. Falkland, to find the principles of equity so com-
pletely reversed, as for the innocent, but instructed
individual to be the party accused and suffering, in-
stead of having, as was just, the real criminal at his
mercy. I was still more astonished at the superna-
tural power Mr. Falkland seemed to possess, of bring-
ing back by the most irresistible means the object of
his persecntion within the sphere of his authority; a
reflection auended with some discouragement to that
thirst of independence which now constituted the rul-
ing passion of my mind.
But this was no time for meditation. To the suf-
ferer the course of events is taken out of his direc-
tion, and he is hurried along with an irresistible force,
without finding it within the compass of his efforts to
check their rapidity. I was allowed only a very
short time to recollect myself, when my trial coin-
menced. I was conducted to the library where I
bad passed so many happy and so many contempla:
tive hours, and found there M. Forester and three or
four of the servants already assembled in expecta-
tion of me and my accuser. Every thing was calcu-
lated to suggest to me that I must trust only in the
justice of the parties concerned, and had nothing to
hope from their mercy. Mr. Falkland entered at one
door, almost as soon as I entered at the other.
He began: it has been the principle of my life ne.
ver to infict a wilful injury upon any thing that lives;
I need not express my regret when I find myself
obliged to be the promulgator of a criminal charge.
How gladly would I pass unnoticed the evil I have
sustained; but I owe it to society to detect an offen-
der, and prevent other men from being imposed upon,
as I have been, by an appearance of integrity.
It would be better, interrupted Mr. Forester, to
speak directly to the point. We ought not, though
unwarily, by apologising for ourselves, to create at
such a time a prejudice against an individual, against
whom a criminal accusation will always be prejudice
enough.
I strongly suspect, continued Mr. Falkland, this
young man, who has been peculiarly the object of my
kindness, of having robbed me to a considerable
amount.
What, replied (Mr. Forester, are the grounds of
your suspicion ?


172
ADVENTURES OF
- The first of them is the actual loss I have sustain-
ed in notes, jewels and plate. I have missed bank
notes to the amount of mine hundred pounds, three
gold repeaters of extraordinary value, a complete suit
of diamonds, the property of my late mother, and se-
veral other articles.
And why, continued my arbitrator, astonishment,
grief, and a desire to retain his self-possession 'strong-
ly contending in his countenance avd voice, do you
fix on this young man as the instrument of the depre-
dation ?
I found him on my coming home upon the day when
every thing was in disorder from the alarm of fire,
in the very act of quitting the private apartment
where these things were deposited. He was con-
founded at seeing me, and hastened to withdraw as
soon as he possibly could..
Did you say nothing to him, take no notice of the
confusion your sudden appearance produced ?
I asked what was his errand in that place. He
was at first so terrified and overcome that he could
not answer me. Afterwards with a good deal of fal
tering he said that, when all the servants were en-
gaged in endeavouring to save the most valuable parti
of my property, be had come hither with the same
view; but that he had as yet removed nothing.
Did you immediately examine to see that every
thing was safe?
No. I was accustomed to confide in his honesty,
and I was suddenly called away in the present in-
stance to attend to the increasing progress of the
flames. I therefore only took out the key from the
door of the apartment, having first locked it, and,
putting it in my pocket, hastened to go where my pre
sence seemed indispensibly necessary
How long was it before you missed your property?
The same evening. The hurry of the soene had
driven the circumstance entirely out of my mind, till
going by accident near the apartment, the whole affair,
together with the singular and equivocal behaviour of
Williams, rushed at once upon my recollection. I
immediately entered, examined the trunk in which
these things were contained, and to my astonishment
found the locks broken and the property gone.
What steps did you take upon this discovery ?
I sent for Williams, and talked to him very seri-
vusly upon the subject. But he had now perfectly


CALEB WILLIAMS. 173
recovered his self-command, and calmly and stoutly
denied all knowledge of the matter. "I urged him
with the enormousness of the offence, but it made no
impression. He did not discover either the surprise
and indignation one would have expected from a per-
son entirely innocent, or the upeasiness that generally
attends upon guilt. He was rather silent and reserv-
ed. I then informed him, that I should proceed in a
manner different from what he might perhaps expect.
I would not, as is too frequent in such cases, make a
general search,, for I had rather loose my property
for ever without redress, than expose a multitude of
innocent persons to anxiety and injustice. My sus-
picion for the present unavoidably fixed upon him.
· But in a matter of so great consequence I was deter-
mined not to act upon suspicion. I would neither in-
cur the possibility of ruining him being innocent, nor
be the instrument of exposing others to his depreda-
tions, if guilty. I should therefore merely insist upon
his continuing in my service. He might depend upon
it he should be well watched, and I trusted the whole
truth would eventually appear. Since he avoided
confession now, I advised him to consider how far it
was likely he would come off with impunity at last.
This I was determined on, that the moment he attempt-
ed an escape, I would consider that as an indication
of guilt and proceed accordingly.
What circumstances have occurred from that time
to the present ?
None upon which I can infer a certainty of guilt.
Several that agree to favour a suspicion. From that
time Williams was perpetually uneasy in his situa-
tion, always desirous, as it now appears, to escape,
but afraid to adopt such a measure without certain
precautions. It was not long after, that you, Mr.
Forester, became my visitor. I observed with dis-
satisfaction the growing intercourse between you, re-
flecting on the equivocalness of his character, and the
attempt he would probably make to render you the
dupe of his hypocrisy. I accordingly threatened him
severely, and I believe you observed the change that
presently after took place in his behaviour with rela-
tion to you.
· I did, and it appeared at that time mysterious and
extraordinary.
Some time after, as you well know, a rencounter
took place between you, whether accidental or inten-
Aa


14
ADVENTURES OF
tional on his part I am not able to say, when he con-
fossed to you the uneasiness of his mind without dis-
covering the cause, and openly proposed to you to.
assist him in his flight, and stand in case of necessity
between him and my resentment. You offered, it
seems, to take bim into your service; but nothing, as
be acknowledged, would answer his purpose, that did
not place his retreat wholly oat of my power to dis-
cover.
Did it not appear extraordinary to you that he
shonld hope for any effectual protection from me,
while it remained perpetually in your power to satisfy
me of his um vorthiness?
Perhaps he had hopes that I should not proceed to
that step, at least so long as the place of his retreat
should be unknown to me, and of consequence the
event of my proceeding dubious. Perhaps he confid-
ed in his own powers, which are far from contemp-
tible, to construct a plausible tale, especially as he
had taken care to have the first impression in his fa-
vour. After all, this protection on your part was
merely reserved in case all other expedients failed.
He does not appear to have had any other sentiment
upon the subject, than that, if he were defeated in his
projects for placing himself heyond the reach of jns-
lice, it was better to have bespoken himself a place
in your patronage than to be destitute of every re-
source.
Mr. Falkland having thus finished his evidence,
called upon Robert, the valet to confirm that part of
it which related to the day of the fire.
Robert stated, that he happened to he coming thro
the library that day a few minutes after Mr. Falk
land's being brought home by the sight of the fire, tha
he had found me standing there with every mark oi
pertarbation and fright, that he was so struck with:
my appearance that he could not help stopping to no-
tice it, that he had spoken to me two or three times
before he could ohtain an answer, and that all he
could get from me at last, was that I was the most
miserable creature alive.
He further said that in the evening of the same dar
Mr. Falkland called him into the private apartmen
adjoining to the library, and bid him bring a hamme
and some nails. He then shewed him a trunk stand
ing in the apartment with its locks and fastening &
broken, and ordered him to obscive and remember


176
ADVENTURES OF
In reply to this invitation I spoke nearly as follows:
I am innocent. It is in vain that circumstances are
accumulated against me : there is not a person upon
earth less capable than I of the things of which I am
accused. I appeal to my heart; I appeal to my looks;
I appeal to every sentiment my tongue ever uttered.
I could perceive that the fervour with which I spoke
made some impression upon every one that heard me.
But in a moment their eyes were turned upon the
property that lay before them, and their countenan-
ces changed. I proceeded :
One thing more I must aver; Mr. Falkland is not
deceived: he perfectly knows that I am innocent.
I had no sooner uttered these words, than an in-
voluntary cry of indignation burst from every person
in the room. Mr. Forester turned to me with a look
of extreme severity, and said:
Young man, consider well what you are doing! It
is the privilege of the party accused to say whatever
he thinks proper; and I will take care that you shall
enjoy that privilege in its utmost extent. But do you
think it will conduce in ’any respect to your benefit
to throw out such insolent and intolerable insigga-
tions ?
I thank yon most sincerely, replied I, for yonr car-
tion; but I well know what it is that I am doing. I
make this averment not merely because it is solemnly
true, but because it is inseparably connected with my
vindication. I am the party accused, and I shall be
told that I am not to be believed in my own defence.
I can produce no other witnesses of my innocence ;
I therefore call upon Mr. Falkland to be my evi-
dence; I ask him,
Did you never boast to me in private of your power
to ruin me? Did you never say that, if once I brought
on myself the weight of your displeasure, my fall
should be irreparable ? Did you not tell me that,
though I should prepare in that case a tale ever so
plausible or ever so true, you would take care that
the whole world should execrate me as an impostor?
Were not those yonr very words? Did you not add
that my innocence should be of no service to me, ano
that you laughed at so feeble a defence? I ask yo:
further, did you not receive a letter from me the
morning of the day on which I departed, requestin
your consent to my departure ? Should I have don
that, if my flight had been that of a thief? I challenge


CALEB WILLIAMS. 177
any man to reconcile the expressions of that letter
with this accnsation. Should I have begun with stat-
ing that I had conceived a desire to quit your service,
if my desire and the reasons for it had been of the
nature that is now alleged ? Should I have dared to
ask for what reason I was thus subjected to an eter-
nal penance ?
Saying this, I took out a copy of my letter and laid
it open upon the table.
Mr. Falkland returned no immediate answer to my
interrogations. Mr. Forester turned to him, and said,
Well, sir, what is youæ reply to this challenge of your
servant?"
Mr. Falkland answered: such a mode of defence
hardly calls for a reply. But I answer, I held no
such conversation ; I never used such words; I re-
ceived no such letter. Surely it is no sufficient rebut.
ter of a criminal charge, that the criminal repels what
is alleged against him with volubility of speech and
intrepidity of manner ?
Mr. Forester then turned to me. If, said he, you
trust your vindication to the plausibility of your tale,
you must take care to render it consistent and com-
plete. You have not told us what was the cause of
the confusion and anxiety in which Robert professes
to have found you, why you were so impatient to quit
the service of Mr. Falkland, or how you account for
certain articles of his property being found in your
possession ?
All that, sir, answered I, is true. There are cer-
tain parts of my story that I have noi told. If they
were told, they would not contribute to my disadvan-
tage, and they would make the present accusation
appear still more astonishing. But I cannot, as yet
at least, prevail upon myself to tell them. Is it ne-
cessary to give any particular and precise reasons
why I should wish to change the place of my resi-
dence ? Yon all of you know the unfortunate state of
Mr. Falkland's mind. You know the sternness. re-
servedness, and distance of his manners. If I had
no other reasons, surely it would afford small pre-
sumption of criminality that I should wish to change
his service for another.
The question of how these articles of Mr. Falk-
land's property came to he found in my possession, is
more material. It is a question I am wholly unable
to answer. Their being found there was at least as


178
ADVENTURES OF
unexpected to me, as to any one of the persons now
present. I only know that, as I have the most per-
fect assurance of Mr. Falkland's being conscious of
my innocence, for, observe ! I do not shrink from
that assertion, I reiterate it with new confidence; I
therefore firmly and from my soul believe that their
being there is of Mr. Falkland's contrivance.
I no sooner said this, than I was again interrupted
by an involuntary exclamation from every one pre-
sent. They looked at me with furious glances, as if
they could have torn me to pieces. I proceeded:
I have now answered every thing that is alleged
against me.
Mr. Forester, you are a lover of justce; I conjure
you not to violate it in my person. You are a man of
penetration ; look at me, do you see any of the
marks of guilt? Recollect all that has ever passed
under your observation; is it compatible with a mind
capable of what is now alleged against me ? Could
a real criminal have shown himself so unabashed,
composed and firm as I have now done?
Fellow servants ! Mr. Falkland is a man of rank
and fortune ; he is your master. I am a poor country-
lad without a friend in the world. That is a ground
of real difference to a certain extent; but it is not a
sufficient ground for the subversion of justice. Re-
member, that I am in a situation that is not to he tri-
fled with, that a decision given against me now, in
a case in which I solemnly assure you I am innocent,
will for ever deprive me of reputation and peace of
mind, combine the whole world in a league against
me, and determine perhaps upon my liberty and my
life. If you believe, if you see, if you know that I
am innocent, speak for me. Do not suffer a pusilla-
nimous timidity to prevent you fram saving a fellow
creature from destruction, who does not deserve to
have a human being for his enemy. Why have we
the power of speech, hut to communicate our thoughts?
I will never helieve that a man conscious of innocence,
cannot make other men perceive that he has that
thought. Do not you feel that my whole heart tells
me, I am not guilty of what is imputed to me?
To you, Mr. Falkland, I have nothing to say. I
know you, and know that you are impenetrable. At
the very moment that you are urging such odious
charges against me, you admire my resolution and
forbearance. But I have nothing to hope from you.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
179
You can look upon my ruin without pity or remorse.
I am most unfortunate indeed in having to do with
such an adversary. You ohlige me to say ill things
of you; hat I appeal to your own heart whether my
language is that of exaggeration or revenge.
Every thing that could be alleged on either side
being now concluded, Mr. Forester undertook to
make some remarks upon the whole. Williams, said
he, the charge against you is heavy; the direct evi-
dence strong; the corroborating circumstances nu-
merous and striking! I grant that you have shown
considerable dexterity in your answers; but you will
learn, young man, to your cost, that dexterity, how-
ever powerful it may be in certain cases, will avail
little against the stubbornness of truth. It is forta-
nate for mankind that the empire of talents has its
limitations, and that it is not in the power of ingenu.
ity to subyert the distinctions of right and wrong.
Take my word for it, that the true merits of the case
against you will he too strong for sophistry to over-
turn, that justice will prevail, and impotent malice
be defeated.
To you, Mr. Falkland, society is obliged for hav-
ing placed this black affair in its true light. Do not
suffer the malignant aspersions of the criminal to give
you uneasiness. Depend upon it that they will be
found of no weight. “I have no douht that your cha-
racter, in the judgment of every person that has
heard them, stands higher than ever. We feel for
your misfortune in being obliged to hear such calam-
nies, from a person who has injured you so grossly.
But you must be considered in that respect as a mar-
tyr in the public canse. The purity of your motives
and dispositions is beyond the reach of malice ; and
truth and equity will not fail to award, to your ca-
lomniator infamy, and to you the love and approba-
tion of mankind.”
I have now told you, Williams, what I think of
your case. But I have no right to assume to be your
ultimate judge. Desperate as it appears to me, I
will give you one piece of advice as if I were re-
tained as a coimsel to assist you. Leave out of it
whatever tells to the disadvantage of Mr. Falkland.
Defend yourself as well as you can, but do not at-
tack your master. It is your husiness to create in
those that hear you, a prepossession in your favour.
But the recrimination you have been now practising


180
ADVENTURES OF .
will always create indignation. Dishonesty will ad.
mit of some palliation. The deliberate malice you
have now been showing is a thousand times more
atrocious. It proves you to have the mind of a de.
mon, rather than of a felon. Wherever you shall
repeat it, those who hear you will pronounce you
guilty upon that, even if the proper evidence against
you were glaringly defective. If therefore you would
consult your interest, which seems to be your only
consideration, it is incumbent upon you by all means
immediately to retract that. If you desire to be be-
lieved honest, you must in the first place show that
you have a due sense of merit in others. You can-
not better serve your cause than by begging pardon
of your master, and doing homage to rectitude and
worth even when they are employed in vengeance
against you.
It is easy to conceive that my mind sustained an
extreme shock from the decision of Mr. Forester;
but his call upon me to retract and humble myself
before my accuser penetrated my whole soul with in-
dignation. I answered:
I have already told you I am innocent. I believe
that I could not endure the effort of inventing a plau-
sible defence, if it were otherwise. You have just
affirmed that it is not in the power of ingenuity to
subvert the distinctions of right and wrong, and in
that very moment I find them subverted. This is in-
deed to me a very awful moment. New to the world,
I know nothing of its affairs but what has reached
me by rumour, or is recorded in books. I have come
into it with all the ardour and confidence inseparable
from my years. In every fellow-being I expected to
find a friend. I am unpractised in its wiles, and
have even no acquaintance with its injustice. I have
done nothing to deserve the animosity of mankind,
but, if I may judge from the present scene, I am
· from henceforth to be deprived of the benefits of in.
tegrity and honour. I am to forfeit the friendship of
every one I have hitherto kyown, and to be preclu-
ded from the power of acquiring that of others. I
must therefore be reduced to derive my satisfaction
from myself. Depend upon it I will not begin that
career by dishonourable concessions. If I am to de-
spair of the good will of other men, I will at least
maintain the independence of my own mind. Mr.
Falkland is ny implacable enemy. Whatever may


CALEB WILLIAMS. 181
De his merits in other respects, he is acting towards
me without humanity, withont remorse, and without
principle. Do you think I will ever make any sub-
missions to a man by whom I am thus treated, that
· I will fall down at the feet of one who is to me a
- devil, or kiss the hand that is red with my blood ?
• In that respect, answered Mr. Forester, do as you
· shall think proper. I must confess that your firm-
ness and consistency astonish me. They add some-
thing to what I had conceived of human powers.
Perhaps you have chosen the part which, all things
considered, may serve your purpose best, though I
think more moderation would be more conciliating.
The exterior of innocence will, I grant, stagger the
persons who may have the direction of your fate, but
it will never be able to prevail against plain and in-
controvertible facts. But I have done with you. I
see in you a new instance of that abuse which is so
generally made of talents the admiration of an un-
discerning public. I regard you with horror. All
that remains is that I should discharge my duty in
consigning you as a monster of depravity to the jus-
. tice of your country,
No, rejoined Mr. Falkland, to that I can never
consent. "I have put a restraint upon myself thus
far, because it was right that evidence and enquiry
should take their course. I have suppressed all my
habits and sentiments, because it seemed due to the
public that bypocrisy should be unmasked. But I
can suffer this violence no longer, I have through
my whole life interfered to protect, not overbear the
sufferer; and I must do so now. I feel not the small-
est resentment of his impotent attacks upon my cha-
racter; I smile at their malice; and they make no
diminution in my benevolence to their author. Let
him say what he pleases; he cannot hurt me. It was
proper that he should be brought to public shame,
that other people might not be deceived by him as
we have been. But there is no necessity for proceed-
ing any further; and I must insist upon it that he be
permitted to depart wherever he 'pleases. I am
sorry that public interest affords so gloomy a prospect
for his future happiness.
· Mr. Falkland, answered Mr. Forester, these sen-
timents do honour to your humanity; but I must not
give way to them. They only serve to set in a stronger
light the venom of this serpent, this monster of in.
Bb


182
ADVENTURES OF
gratitude, who first robs his benefactor, and then re
viles him. Wretch that you are, will nothing move
you? Are you inaccessible to remorse ? Are you not
struck to the heart with the unmerited goodness of
your master? Vile calumniator! you are the abhor-
rence of nature, the opprobrium of the human spe-
cies, and the earth can only be freed from an insup
portable burthen by your being exterminated ! Re-
collect, sir, that this villain, at the very moment that
you are exercising such unexampled forbearance in
his behalf, has the presumption to charge you with
prosecuting a crime of which you know him to be in-
nocent, nay, with having conveyed the pretended
stolen goods among his property for the express pur.
pose of ruining him. By this unexampled villainy
he makes it your duty to free the world from such a
pest, and your interest to admit no relaxing in your
pursuit of him, lest the world should be persuaded
by your clemency to credit his vile insinuations.
I care not for consequences, replied Mr. Falkland,
I will obey the dictates of my own mind, I will never
lend my personal assistance to the reforming mankind
by axes and gibbets ; I am sure things will never go
well, till honour and not law be the dictator of man.
kind, till vice be taught to shrink before the resist-
less might of inborn dignity, and not before the cold
formality of statutes. If my calumniator were wor-
thy of my resentment I would chastise him with my
own sword, and not that of the magistrate ; but in
the present case I smile at his malice, and resolve
to spare him, as the generous lord of the forest
spares the insect that would disturb his repose.
The language you now hold, said Mr. Forester, is
that of romance and not of reason. Yet I cannot
but be struck with the contrast exhibited before me
of the magnanimity of virtue and the obstinate, im•
penetrable injustice of guilt. While your mind over-
flows with goodness, nothing can touch the heart of
this thrice bred villain. I shall never forgive myself
for having once been entrapped by his destestable
arts. This is no time for us to settle the question be-
tween chivalry and law. I shall therefore simply in-
sist as a magistrate, having taken the evidence in
this felony, upon my right and duty of following the
course of justice, and committing the accused to the
co'ınty jail.
After some further contest Mr. Falkland finding


CALEB WILLIAMS. 185
of my situation induced me to fix my eyes on the faces
of these men, but in a few minutes I drew them away
with unconquerable loathing. It is impossible to de.
scribe the sort of squalidness and filth with which
these mansions are distinguished. I have seen dirty
faces in dirty apartments, which have nevertheless
borne the impression of health, and spoke careless-
ness and levity rather than distress. But the dirt of
a prison speaks sadness to the heart, and appears to
be already in a state of putridity and infection.
I was detained for more than an hour in the apart.
ment of the keeper, one turnkey after another coming
in, that they might make themselves familiar with
my person. As I was already considered as guilty
of felony to a considerable amount, I underwent a
rigorous search, and they took from me a penknive,
a pair of scissors, and that part of my money which
was in gold. It was debated whether or not these
should be sealed up, to be returned to me, as they
said, as soon as I should be acquitted; and had I not
displayed an unexpected firmness of manner and vi-
gour of expostulation, such was the conduct that
would have been pursued. Having undergone these
ceremonies, I was thrust into a day-room in which
all the persons then under confinement for felony
were assembled to the number of eleven. Each of
them were too much engaged in his own reflections
to take notice of me. Of these two were imprisoned
for horse-stealing, and three for having stolen a sheep,
one for shop-lifting, one for coining, two for high.
way-robbery, and two for burglary:
The horse-stealers were engaged in a game at cards,
which was presently interrupted by a difference of
opinion, attended with great vociferation, they call-
ing upon one another to decide it to no purpose,
one paying no attention to their summons, and ano-
ther leaving them in the midst of their story, being
no longer able to endure his own internal anguish in
the midst of their mummery.
It is a custom among thieves to constitute a sort of
mock tribunal of their own body, from whose deci-
sion every one is informed whether he shall be acquit-
ted, respited, or pardoned, as well as respecting the
most skilful way of conducting his defence. One of
the houschreakers who had already passed this or-
deal was stalking up and down the room with a forced
bravery, exclaiming to his companion that he was as


186
ADVENTURES OF
rich as the auke of Bedford himself. He had five
guineas and a half, which was as much as he could
possibly spend in the course of the ensuing month,
and what happened after that it was Jack Ketch's
business to see to, not his. As he uttered these
words he threw himself abruptly upon a bench that
was near him, and seemed to be asleep in a moment.
But his sleep was uneasy and disturbed, his breathing
was hard, and at intervals had rather the nature of
a groan. A young fellow from the other side of the
room came softly to the place where he lay with a
large knife in his hand, and pressed the back of it
with such violence upon his neck, the head hanging
over the side of the bench, that it was not till after
several efforts that he was able to rise. Oh, Jack!
cried this manual jester, I had almost done your bu-
siness for you! The other expressed po marks of re-
sentment, but sullenly answered, D- n vou, why
did not you take the edge ? It would have been the
best thing you have done this many a day !*
· The case of one of the persons committed for high-
way-robbery was not a little extraordinary. He was
a common soldier, of a most engaging physiognomy,
and two and twenty years of age. The prosecutor,
who had been robbed one evening as he returned late
from the alehouse, of the sum of three shillings,
swore positively to his person. The character of the
prisoner was such as has seldom been equalled. The
meanness of his condition did not preclude him from
the pursuit of intellectual cultivation; and he drew
his favourite amusement from the works of Virgil and
Horace. His integrity had been proverbially great.
In one instance he had been employed hy a lady to
convey a sum of a thousand pounds to a person at
some miles distance : in another he was intrusted
by a gentleman during his absence with the care of
his house and furniture to the value of at least five
times that sum. His habits of thinking were pecu-
liar, full of justice, simplicity, and wisdom." He
from time to time earned money of his officers by his
peculiar excellence in furbishing arms; but he de-
clined offers that had been made him to become a
serjeant or a corporal, saying, that he did not want
-
. An incident exactly similar to this, was witnessed
by a friend of the author, a few years since, in
Newgate.


188 · ADVENTURES OF
peared, and ordered each man to come away, and
be locked into his dungeon. It was a bitter aggra.
vation of our fate to be under the arbitrary control of
these fellows. They felt no man's sorrow; they were
of all men least capable of any sort of feeling. They
had a barbarous and sullen pleasure in issuing their
detested mandates, and observing the mournful re-
luctance with which they were obeyed. Whatever
they directed, it was in vain to expostulate ; fetters
and bread and water were the sure consequences of
resistance. Their tyranny had no other limit than
their own caprice. To whom shall the unfortunate
felon appeal ? To what purpose complain, when his
complaints are sure to be received with incredulity ?
A tale of mutiny and necessary precaution is the un-
failing refuge of the keeper, and this tale is an ever-
lasting bar against redress.
Our dungeons were cells, 71 feet by 64, below the
surface of the ground, damp, withont window, light
or air, except from a few holes worked for that pur-
pose in the door. In some of these miserable re-
ceptacles three persons were put to sleep together. *
I was fortunate enough to have one to myself. It was
now the approach of winter. We were not allowed
to have candles ; and, as I have already said, were
thrust in here at sun-set and not liberated till the re-
turning day. This was our situation for fourteen or
fifteen hours out of the four and twenty. I had never
been accustomed to sleep more than six or seven
hours, and my inclination to sleep was now less than
ever. Thus was I reduced to spend half my day in
this dreary abode and in complete darkness. This
was no trilling aggravation of my lot. .
Among my melancholy reflections I tasked my me-
mory, and counted over the doors, the locks, the
bolts, the chains, the massy walls and grated win-
dows, that were between me and liberty. These,
said Í, are the engines that tyranny sits down in cold
and serious meditation to invent. This is the empire
that man exercises over man. Thus is a being, forn-
ed to expatiate, to act, to smile and enjoy, restricted
and benumbed. How great must be his depravity or
heedlessness, who vindicates this scheme for chang-
ing health and gaiety, and serenity, into the wanness
*, See Howard on Prisons.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
189
of a dungeon, and the deep furrows of agony and
despair!
Thank God, exclaims the Englishman, we have
no Bastille ! Thank God, with us no man can be pu-
nished without a crime! Unthinking wretch! Is that
a country of liberty where thousands languish in dun-
geons and fetters ? Go, go, ignorant fool! and visit
the scenes of our prisons ! witness their unwhole-
someness, their filth, the tyranny of their governors,
the misery of their inmates! After that show me
the man shameless enough to triumph, and say, Eng-
land has no Bastille! Is there any charge so frivo-
lons upon which men are not consigned to these de-
tested abodes? Is there any villainy that is not prac-
tised by justices and prosecutors? But against all
this, perhaps you have been told, there is redress.
Yes, a redress, that it is the consunimation of insult
so much as to name! Where shall the poor wretch,
reduced to the last despair, and to whom acquittal
perhaps comes jast time enough to save him from pe-
rishing,—where shall this man find leisure, and much
less money, to fee counsel and officers, and purchase
the tedious, dear-bought remedy of the law ? No, he
is too happy to leave the dungeon and the memory of
his dungeon behind him; and the same tyranny and
wanton oppression become the inheritance of his
successor.
For myself, I looked round upon my walls, and
forward apon the premature death I had too much
reason to expect; I consulted my own heart that
whispered nothing but innocence; and I said, This
is society. This is the object, the distribution of
justice, which is the end of human reason. For this
sages have toiled, and the midnight oil has been
wasted. This!
The reader will forgive this digression from the im
mediate subject of my story. If it should be said,
these are general remarks ; let it be remembered that
they are the dear-bought result of experience. It is
from the fulness of a bursting heart that invective
thus flows to my pen. These are not the declamations
of a man desirous to be eloquent. I have felt the
iron of slavery, grating upon my soul.
I helieved that misery, more pore than that which
I now endured, had never fallen to the lot of a hu-
man being. I recollected with astonishment my pue-
rile eagerness to be brought to the test and have my
C C


190
ADVENTURES OF
innocence examined. I execrated it as as the vilegi
and most insufferable pedantry. I exclaimed in the
bitterness of my heart, Of what value is a fair fame
It is the jewel of men formed to be amused with hau-
bles. Without it I might have had serenity of heart
and cheerfulness of occupation, peace and liberty:
. why should I consign my happiness to other men's
arbitration ? But, if a fair fame were of the most
inexpressible value, is this the method which con-
mon sense would prescribe to retrieve it? The lat
·guage which these institutions hold out to the unfor-
tunate is, Come, and be shut out from the light or
day, be the associate of those whom society has
marked out for her abhorrence, be the slave of jail-
ers, be loaded with fetters ; thus shall you be clearer
from every unworthy aspersion, and restored to re-
putation and honour! This is the consolation she af
fords to those whom malignity or folly, private pique
or unfounded positiveness, have without the smallest
foundation loaded with calumny. For myself I felt
my own innocence, and I soon found upon enquiry
that three fourths of those who are regularly sabjected
to a similar treatment, are persons, whom even with
all the superciliousness and precipitation of our courts
of justice, no evidence can be found sufficient to con-
vict. How slender then must be that man's portion
of information and discernment, who is willing to com-
mit his character and welfare to such guardianship!
But my case was even worse than this. I inti.
mately felt that a trial, such as institution is able to
make it, is only the worthy sequel of such a begin-
ning. What chance had I, after the purgation I was
now suffering, that I should come out acquitted at
last? What probability was there that the trial I had
endured in the house of Mr. Falkland was not just as
fair as any that might be expected to follow ? No, I
already anticipated my own condemnation.
Thus was I cat off for ever from all that existence
has to bestow, from all the high hopes I had so often
conceived, from all the future excellence my soul so
much delighted to imagine, to spend a few weeks in
a miserable prison, and then to perish by the hand
of the public executioner. No language can do
justice to the indignant and soul-sickening loathing
that these ideas excited. My resentment was not re-
stricted to my prosecutor, but extended itself to the
whole machine of human society. I could never be-


CALEB WILLIAMS.
191
lieve that all this was the fair result of institutions in.
separable from the general good. I regarded the
whole human species as so many hangmen and tor-
turers. I considered them as confederated to tear
me to pieces; and this wide scene of inexorable per-
secution inflicted upon me inexpressible agony. I
looked on this side and on that; I wns innocent; I
had a right to expect assistance; but every heart was
steeled against me ; every hand was ready to lend
its force to make my ruin secure. No man that has
not felt in his own most momentous concerns justice,
eternal truth, unalterable equity engaged in his be-
half, and on the other side brute force, impenetrable
obstinacy and unfeeling insolence, can imagine the
sensations that then passed through my mind. I saw
treachery triumphant and enthroned; I saw the si-
news of innocence crumbled into dust by the gripe
of almighty guilt.
What relief had I from these sensations ? Was it
relief that I spent the day in the midst of profligacy
and execrations, that I saw reflected from every
countenance agonies only inferior to my own ? He
that would form a lively idea of the regions of the
damned, needed only to witness for six hours a scene
to which I was confined for many months. Not for
one hour could I withdraw myself from this com-
plexity of horrors, or take refuge in the calmness of
meditation. Air, exercise, series, contrast, those
grand enliveners of the human frame, I was for ever
debarred, by the inexorable tyranny under which I
was fallen. Nor did I find the solitude of my nightly
dungeon less insupportable. Its only furniture was
the straw that served me for my repose. It was
narrow, damp and unwholesome. The slumbers of
a mind, wearied like mine with the most detestable
uniformity, to whom neither amusement nor occupa-
tion ever offered themselves to beguile the painful
hours, were short, disturbed, and unrefreshing. My
sleeping, still more than my waking thoughts, were
full of perplexity, deformity and disorder. To these
slumbers succeeded the hours which hy the regnla-
tions of our prison I was obliged, though awake, to
spend in solitary and chearless darkness. Here I
had neither hooks, nor pens, nor any thing upon
which to engage my attention ; , all was a sightless
blank. How was a mind, active and indefatigable
like mine, to endure this misery? I could not sink


192
ADVENTURES OF
into lethargy; I could not forget my woes; they
baunted me with unintermitted and demoniac ma-
lice. Cruel, inexorable policy of human affairs,
that condemns a man to torture like this; that
sanctions it and knows not what is done under its
sanction; that is too supine and unfeeling to en-
quire into these petty details; that calls this the or-
deal of innocence and the protector of freedom! A
thousand times I could have dashed my brains against
the walls of my dungeon ; a thousand times I longed
for death, and wished with inexpressible ardour for
an end to what I suffered; a thousand times I medi-
tated suicide, and ruminated in the bitterness of my
soul upon the different means of escaping from the
load of existence. What had I to do with life? I
had seen enough to make me regard it with detesta-
tion. Why should I wait the lingering process of le-
gal despotism, and not dare so much as to die but
when and how its instruments decreed? Still some
inexplicable suggestion withheld my hand. I clung
with desperate fondness to this shadow of existence,
its mysterious attractions and its hopeless prospects.
Such were the reflections that haunted the first
days of my imprisonment, in consequence of which
they were spent in perpetual anguish. But after a
time, nature, wearied with distress, would no longer
stoop to the hurthen ; thought, which is incessantly
varying, introduced a series of reflections totally
different.
My fortitude revived. I had always been accas-
tomed to chearfulness, good-humour and serenity,
and this habit now returned to visit me at the bottom
of my dungeon. No sooner did my contemplations
take this turn, than I saw the reasonableness and
possibility of tranquillity and peace, and my mind
whispered to me the propriety of showing in this for-
lorn condition that I was superior to all my persecu-
tors. Blessed state of innocence and self-approba-
tion! The sunshine of conscious integrity pierced
through all the barriers of my cell, and spoke ten
thonsand times more joy to my heart than the accu-
mulated splendours of nature and art can communi.
cate to the slaves of vice.
I found out the secret of employing my mind. I
said, I am shut up for half the day in total darkness
without any external source of amusement ; the other
half I spend in the midst of noise, turbulence and
confusion. What then ? Can I not draw amusement


CALEB WILLIAMS.
193
0
3.
so
be
from the stores of my own mind? Is it not freighted
i with various knowledge ? Have I not been employed
from my infancy in gratifying an insatiable curiosity ?
When should I derive benefit from these superior
advantages, if not at present? Accordingly I tasked
the stores of my memory and my powers of inven-
tion. I amused myself with recollecting the history
of my life. By degrees I called to
a number of
minute circumstances which but for this exercise
would have been for ever forgotten. I repassed in
my thoughts whole conversations, I recollected their
subjects, their arrangement, their incidents, and
frequently their very words, I mused upon these
ideas till I was totally absorbed in thought. I re-
peated them till my mind glowed with enthusiasm. I
had my different employments fitted for the solitude
of the night in which I could give full scope to the im-
pulses of my mind, and for the uproar of the day in
which my chief object was to be insensible to the dis-
order with which I was surrounded.
By degrees I quitted my own story, and amused
myself with imaginary adventures. I figured to my-
self every situation in which I could be placed, and
conceived the conduct to be observed in each. Thus
scenes of insult and danger, of tenderness and op-
pression became familiar to me. In fancy I often
passed the awful hour of dissolving nature. In some
of my reveries 1 boiled with impetuous indignation,
and in others patiently collected the whole force
of my mind for some fearful encounter. I colti-
vated the powers of oratory suited to these differ-
ent states, and improved more in eloquence in the
solitude of my dungeon, than perhaps I should have
done in the busiest and most crowded scenes. At
length I proceeded to as regular a disposition of my
time, as the man in his study who passes from ma-
thematics to poetry, and from poetry to the law of
nations in the different parts of each single day; and
I as seldorn infringed upon my plan. Nor were my
subjects of disquisition less numerous than his. I
went over, by the assistance of memory only, a con-
siderable part of Euclid during my confinement, and
revived day after day the series of facus and inci-
dents in some of the most celebrated historians. I
became myself a poet; and while I described the
luxuriance and variety of natural objects, recorded
the characters and passions of men, and partook with


194
ADVENTURES OF
a burning zeal in the generosity of their sentiments,
I eluded the squalid solitude of my dungeon, and
wandered in idea through all the varieties of human
society. I easily found expedients, such as the
mind seems always to require, and which books and
pens supply to the man at large, to record from time
to time the progress that had been made.
While I was thus employed, I reflected with ex-
ultation upon the degree in which man is independent
of the smiles and frowns of fortune. I was beyond
her reach, for I could fall no lower. To an ordinary
eye I might seem destitute and miserable, but in re-
ality I wanted for nothing. My fare was coarse ; but
I was in health. My dungeon was noisome; but I
felt no inconvenience. I was shut up from the usual
means of exercise and air, but I found the method
of exercising myself even to perspiration in my dun-
geon. I had no means of withdrawing my person
from a disgustful society in the most chearſnl and va.
luable part of the day ; but I soon brought to perfec-
tion the art of withdrawing my thoughts, and saw
and heard the people about me for just as short a time
and as seldom as I pleased.
Such is man in himself considered; so simple his
nature, so few his wants. How different from the
man of artificial society! Palaces are built for his
reception, a thousand vehicles provided for his exer-
cise, provinces are ransacked for the gratification of
his appetite, and the whole world traversed to supply
him with apparel and furniture. Thus vast is his ex-
penditure, and the purchase slavery. He is depen-
dent on a thousand accidents for tranquillity and
health, and his body and soul are at the devotion of
whoever will satisfy his imperious cravings.
In addition to the disadvantages of my present si-
tuation, I was reserved for an ignominious death.
What then? Every man must die. No man knows
how soon. It surely is not worse to encounter the
king of terrors in health and with every advantage
for the collection of fortitude, than to encounter him
already half subdped hy sickness and suffering. I
was resolved at least fully to possess the days I had
to live, and this is peculiarly in the power of the man
who preserves his health to the last moment of his
existence. Why should I suffer my mind to be in-
vaded by unavailing regrets ? Every sentiment of
vanity, or rather of independence and justice within


CALEB WILLIAMS.
195
jom me, instigated me to say to my persecutor, You may
-,cut off my existence, bnt you cannot disturb my
ho serenity.
In the midst of these reflections another thought,
nel which had not before struck me, occurred to my mind
I exult, said I, and reasonably, over the impotence
of my persecutor. Is not that impotence greater than
or it! I have yet imagined ? I say, he may cat off my ex-
e pode istence, but cannot disturb my serenity. It is true :
here my mind, the clearness of my spirit, the firmness of
cita my temper, are beyond his reach ; is not my life
in equally so, if I please? What are the material ob-
stacles that man never subdued ? What is the under-
taking so arduous that by some has not been accom-
plished ? And, if by others, why not by me? Had
they stronger motives than I? Was existence more
variously endeared to them, or had they more mu-
merous methods by which to animate and adorn it?
Many of those who have exerted most perseverance
and intrepidity were obviously my inferiors in that
respect. Why should not I be as daring as they?
Adamant and steel have a ductility like water to a
mind sufficiently bold and contemplative. The mind
is master of itself; and is endowed with powers that
might enable it to laugh at the tyrant's vigilance. I
passed and repassed these ideas in my mind; and,
heated with the contemplation, I said, No, I will
not die!
My reading in early youth had been extremely mis-
cellaneous. I had read of housebreakers to whom
locks and bolts were a jest, and who, vain of their
art, exhibited the experiment of entering a house
the most strongly barricaded, with as little noise and
almost as little trouble as other men would lift up a
latch. There is nothing so interesting to the juvenile
mind as the wonderful; there is no power that it so
eagerly covets as that of astonishing spectators by its
miraculous exertions. Mind appeared to my untu-
tored reflections vague, airy and unfettered, the sus.
ceptible perceiver of reasons, but never intended by
nature to be the slave of force. Why should it be
in the power of man to overtake and hold me by
force? Why, when I choose to withdraw myself,
should I not be capable of eluding the most vigilant
search? These limbs and this trunk are a cumbrous
and unfortunate load for the power of thinking to drag
along with it; but why should not the power of thiuks


196
ADVENTURES OF
ing be able to lighten the load till it shall be no
longer felt ? --These early modes of reflection were
by no means indifferent to my present enquiries.
Our next-door neighbour at my father's house had
been a carpenter. Fresh from the sort of reading I
have mentioned, I was eager to examine his tools,
their powers and their uses. This carpenter was a
man of a strong and vigorous mind; and, his facul.
ties having been chiefly confined to the range of his
profession. He was fertile in experiments and in-
genious in reasoning upon these particular topics. I
therefore obtained from him considerable satisfac.
tion; and, my mind being set in action, I sometimes
even improved upon the hints he furnished. His con-
versation was particularly agreeable to me; I at first
worked with him sometimes for my amusement, and
afterwards occasionally for a short time as his jour.
neyman. I was constitutionally vigorous ; and by the
experience thus attained I added to the abstract pos-
session of power the skill of applying it, when I
pleased, in such a manner as that no part should be
inefficient.
It is a strange, but no uncommon feature in the hu.
man mind, that the very resource of which we stand in
greatest need in a critical situation, though already
accumulated it may be by preceding industry, fails
to present itself at the time when it should be called
into action. Thus my mind had passed through two
very different stages since my imprisonment, before
this means of liberation suggested itself. My facul-
ties were overwhelmed in the first instance, and rais-
ed to a pitch of enthusiasm in the second, while in
both I took it for granted, in a manner, that I must pås.
sively submit to the good pleasure of my persecutors.
During the period in which my mind had been thus
umdecided, and wnen I had been little more than a
month.in durance, the assizes, which were held twice
a year in the town in which I was a prisoner, came
on. Upon this occasion my case was not brought for-
ward, but was suffered to stand over six months
longer. It would have been just the same, if I had
had as strong reason to expect acquittal, as I had
conviction. If I had been apprehended upon the
most frivolous reasons upon which any justice of the
peace ever thought proper to commit a naked beggar
for trial, I must still have waited about two hundred
and seventeen days, before my innocence could be


. CALEB WILLIAMS.
197
cleared. So imperfect are the effects of the boasted
laws of a country whose legislators hold their assembly
from four to six months in every year! I could never
discover with certainty whether this delay were ow-
ing to any interference on the part of my prosecutor,
or whether it fell out in the regular administration of
justice, which is too solemn and dignified to accom-
modate itself to the rights or benefit of an insignifi.
cant individual.
But this was not the only incident that occurred to
me during my confinement for which I could find no
satisfactory solution. It was nearly at the same time,
that the keeper began to alter his behaviour to me.
He sent for me one morning into the part of the build-
ing which was appropriated for his own use, and
after some hesitation told me he was sorry my ac-
commodations had been so indifferent, and asked
whether I should like to have a chamber in his fa-
mily? I was struck with the unexpectedness of this
question, and desired to know whether any body had
employed him to ask it. No, he replied ; but, now
the assizes were over, he had fewer felons on his
hands, and more time to look about him: He be-
lieved I was a good kind of a young man; and he
had taken a sort of a liking to me. I fixed my eye
upon his countenance as he said this. I could dis-
cover none of the usual symptoms of kindness; he
appeared to me to be acting a part unnatural, and that
sat with auk wardness upon him. He went on, how-
ever, to offer me the liberty of eating at his table,
which, if I chose it, he said would make do diſfer-
ence in him, and he should not think of charging me
any thing for it. He had always indeed as much up-
on his hands as one person could see to; but his wife
and his daughter Peggy would be woundily pleased
to hear a person of learning talk, as he understood I
was. And perhaps I might not feel myself unplea-
santly circumstanced in their company
I reflected on this proposal, and had little doubt,
notwithstanding what the keeper had affirmed to the
contrary, that it did not proceed from any sponta-
neous humanity in him, but that he had, to speak the
language of persons of his cast, good reasons for
what he did. I busied myself in conjectures as to
who could be the author of this sort of indulgence
and attention. The two most likely persons were
Mr. Falkland and Mr. Forester. The latter I knew
Dd


198
ADVENTURES OF
to be a man austere and inexorable towards those
whom he deemed vicious. He piqued himself upon
being insensible to those softer emotions, which he
believed to answer no other purpose than to seduce
us from our duty. Mr. Falkland, on the contrary,
was a man of the acutest sensibility ; hence arose his
pleasures and his pains, his virtues and his vices.
Though he were the bitterest enemy to whom I could
possibly be exposed, and though no sentiments of hu-
manity could divert or control the bent of his mind,
I yet persuaded myself that he was more likely than
his kinsman to visit in idea the scene of my dungeon,
and to feel impelled to alleviate my sufferings.
This conjecture was by no means calculated to
serve as balm to my mind. My thoughts were un-
avoidably full of irritation against my persecutor.
How could I think kindly of a man, in competition
with the gratification of whose ruling passion my
good name or my life was deemed as of no considera-
tion? I saw him crushing the one and bringing the
other into jeopardy, with a quietness and composure
on his part that I could not recollect without horror.
I knew not what were bis plans respecting me. I
knew not whether he troubled himself so much as to
form a barren wish for the preservation of one, whose
future prospects he had so iniquitously tarnished. I
had hítherto been silent as to my principal topic of
recrimination. But I was by no means certain that I
should consent to go out of the world in silence, the
victim of this man's obduracy and art. In every
view I felt my heart ulcerated with a sense of his in
instice : and my very soul spurned these pitiful indul.
gences, at a time that he was grinding me into dust
with the inexorableness of his vengeance.
I was influenced by these sentiments in my reply
to the jailor; and I found a secret pleasure in pro-
nouncing them in all their bitterness. I viewed him
with a sarcastic smile, and said, I was glad to find
him of a sudden become so humane : I was not how-
ever without some penetration as to the humanity
of a jailor, and could guess at the circumstances by
which it was produced. But he might tell his em-
ployer that his cares were fruitless ; I would accept
no favours from a man that held a halter about my
Deck, and had courage enough to endure the worst
both in time to come and now.—The jailor looked at
me with astonishment, and, turning upon his heel,


CALEB WILLIAMS.
199
exclaimed, Well done, my cock! You have not had
your learning for nothing, I see. You are set upon
not dying danghill. But that is to come, lad: you
had better by half keep your courage till you shall
find it wanted.
The assizes, which passed over without infuence
to me, produced a great revolution among my fellow
prisoners. I lived long enough in the jail to witness
a general mutation of its inhabitants. One of the
housebreakers and the coiner were hanged. Two
more were cast for transportation, and the rest ac-
quitted. The transports remained with us ; and,
though the prison was thus lightened of nine of its
inhabitants, I left within three as many persons on the
felong' side as I had found there on my first arrival.
The soldier, whose story I have already recorded,
died on the evening of the very day on which the
judges arrived, of a disease the consequences of his
confinement. Such was the justice that resulted from
the laws of his country, to an individual who would
have been the ornament of any age, one who of all
the men I ever knew was inexpressibly the kindest,
of the most feeling heart, of the most engaging and
unaffected manners, and the most unblemished life.
The name of this man was Brightwel. Were it pos-
sible for my pen to consecrate him to never dying
fame, I could undertake no task more grateful to my
heart. His judgment was penetrating and manly, tn-
tally unmixed with imbecility and confusion, while
at the same time there was such an uncontending
frankness in his countenance, that a superficial ob-
server would have supposed he must have been the
prey of the first plausible knavery that was practised
against him. Great reason have I to remember him
with affection! He was the most ardent, and I had
almost said the last of my friends. Nor did I remain
in this respect in his debt. There was indeed a
great congeniality, if I may presume to say so, in our
characters, except that I cannot pretend to rival the
magnitude of his genius, or to compare with, what
the world has scarcely surpassed, the correctness
and untainted purity of his conduct. He heard my
story, as far as I thought proper to disclose it, with
interest, he examined it with sincere impartiality,
and, if at first any doubt remained upon his mind, a
frequent observation of me in my most unguarded
at"


200
ADVENTURES OF
moments taught him in no long time to place an unre-
served confidence in my innocence.
He talked of the injustice of which we were mu-
tually victims without bitterness, and predicted that
the time would come when the possibility of such in-
tolerable oppression would be extirpated. But this,
he said, was a happiness reserved for posterity; it
was too late for us to reap the benefit of it. It was
some consolation to him, that he could not tell the
period in his past life, which the best judgment of
which he was capable would teach him to spend bet-
ter. He could say, with as much reason as most
men, he had discharged his duty. But he foresaw
that he should not survive his present calamity. This
was his prediction, while yet in health. He might
be said in a certain sense to have a broken heart.
But, if that phrase were in any way applicable to
him, snre never was despair more calm, more full of
resignation and serenity.
At no time in the whole course of my adventures
was I exposed to a shock more severe than I receive
ed from this man's death. The circumstances of his
fate presented themselves to my mind in their full
complication of iniquity. From him and the execra-
tions with which I loaded the government that could
be the instrument of his tragedy, I turned to myself.
I beheld the catastrophe of Brightwel with envy. A
thousand times I longed that my corpse had laid in
death, instead of his. I was only reserved, as I
persuaded myself, for unutterable woe. In a few
days he would bave been acquitted, his liberty, his
reputation restored; mankind perhaps, struck with
the injustice he had suffered, would have shown them-
selves eager to balance his misfortunes and obliterate
his disgrace. But this man died; and I remained
alive! I, who, though not less wrongfully treated
than he, had no hope of reparation, must be marked
as long as I lived for a villain, and in my death pro-
bably held up to the scorn and detestation of mankind.
Such were some of the immediate reflections which
the fate of this unfortunate martyr produced in my
mind. Yet my intercourse with Brightwel was not in
the review without its portion of comfort. I said,
This man has seen through the veil of calumny that
overshades me; he has understood, and has loved
me. Why should I despair ? May I not meet here-
after with men ingenuous like him, who shall do me


CALEB WILLIAMS.
201
justice and sympathise with my calamity ? With that
consolation I will be satisfied. I will rest in the arms
of friendship, and forget the malignity of the world.
Henceforth I will be contented with tranquil obscu-
rity, with the cultivation of sentiment and wisdom,
and the exercise of benevolence within a narrow cir-
cle. It was thus that my mind became excited to
the project I was about to undertake.
I had no sooner meditated the idea of an escape,
than I determined upon the following method of fas-
cilitating the preparations for it. I undertook to in.
gratiate myself with my keeper. In the world I have
generally found such persons as had been acquainted
with the outline of my story, regarding me with a
sort of loathing and abhorrence, which made them
avoid me with as much care as if I had been spotted
with the plague. The idea of my having first robbed
my master, and then endeavoured to clear myself by
charging him with subordination against me, placed
me in a class distinct from and infinitely more guilty
than that of common felons. But this man was too
good a master of his profession to entertain aversion
against a fellow creature upon such a score. He con-
sidered the persons cummitted to his custody merely
as so many human bodies for whom he was respon-
sible that they should be forthcoming in time and
place; and the difference of innocence and guilt he
looked down upon as an affair beneath his attention.
I had not therefore the prejudices to encounter in re-
commending myself to him, that I have found so pe-
culiarly obstinate in many other cases. Add to which,
the same motive, whatever it was, that had made
him so profuse in his offers a little before, had proba-
bly its influence on the present occasion.
· I informed him of my skill in the profession of a
joiner, and offered to make him half a dozen hand-
some chairs, if he would facilitate my obtaining the
tools necessary for carrying on my profession in my
present confinement; for, without his consent pre-
viously obtained, it would have been in vain for me
to expect that I could quietly exert an industry of this
kind, even if my existence had depended npon it.
He looked at me first as asking himself what he was
to understand by this novel proposal, and then, his
countenance most graciously relaxing, said, he was
glad I was come off a little of my high notions and
my buckram, and he would see what he could do.


202
ADVENTURES OF
Two days after he signified his compliance. He said
that, as to the matter of the present I had offered
him, he thought nothing of that, I might do as I
pleased in it; but I might depend upon every civility
from him that he could show with safety to himself, if
so be as, when he was civil, I did not offer a second
time for to snap and take him up short.
Having thus gained my preliminary, I gradually'
accumnlated tools of various sorts, gimlets, piercers,
chissels, et cetera. I immediately set myself to
work. The nights were long, and the sordid eager
ness of my keeper notwithstanding his ostentations
generosity was great; I therefore petitioned and was
indulged with a bit of candle that I might amuse my-
self for an hour or two with my work after I was
locked up in my dungeon. I did not however by any
means apply constantly to the work I had undertaken,
and my jailor betrayed various tokens of impatience.
Perhaps he was afraid I should not have finished it
before I was hanged. I however insisted upon work.
ing at my leisure as I pleased, and this he did not
venture expressly to dispute. In addition to the ad.
vantages thus obtained, I procured secretly from
Miss Peggy, who now and then came into the jail to
make her observations of the prisoners, and who
seemed to have conceived some partiality for my per-
son, the implement of an iron crow.
In these proceedings it is easy to trace the vice and
duplicity that must be expected to grow out of in.
justice. I know not whether my readers will pardon
the sinister advantage I extracted from the mysteri-
ous concessions of my keeper. But I must acknow-
ledge my weakness in that respect; I am writing my
adventures and not my apology; and I was not pre-
pared to maintain the unvaried sincerity of my man-
ners, at the expence of a speedy close to be put up-
on my existence.
My plan was now digested. I believed that by
means of the crow I could easily and withont much
noise force the door of my dungeon from its hinges,
or, if not, that I could, in case of necessity, cut
away the lock. This door led into a narrow passage,
bounded on one side by the range of dungeons, and
on the other by the jailor's and turnkey's apartments,
through which was the usual entrance from the street.
This outlet ] dared not attempt for fear of disturbing ..
the persons close to whose verv door I should in that


CALEB WILLIAMS
203
case have found it necessary to pass. I determined
therefore upon another door at the farther end of the
passage, which was well barricaded, and which led
to a sort of a garden in the occupation of the keeper.
This garden I had never entered, but I had an op-
portunity of observing it from the window of the fe.
ions' day room, which looked that way, the room it-
self being immediately over the range of dungeons.
I perceived that it was bounded by a wall of consider-
able height, which I was told by my fellow prisoners
was the extremity of the jail on that side, and be-
yond which was a back lane of some length that ter-
minated upon the skirts of the town. Upon an accu-
rate observation and much reflection upon the suh-
ject I found that I should be able, if once I got into
the garden, with my gimlets and piercers inserted at
proper distances to make a sort of ladder, by means
of which I could get clear over the wall, and once
more take possession of the sweets of liberty. I pre-
ferred this wall to that which immediately skirted
my dungeon, on the other side of which was a popu-
lous street.
I suffered abont two days to elapse from the pe-
riod at which I had thoroughly digested my proiect.
and then in the very middle of the night began to set
about its execution. The first door was attended
with considerable difficulty, but at length this obsta-
cle was happily removed. The second door was
fastened on the inside. I was therefore able with
perfect ease to push back the bolts. But the lock,
which of course was depended upon for the principal
security, and was therefore strong, was double-shot,
and the key taken away. I endeavoured with my
chissel to force back the bolt of the lock, but to no
purpose. I then unscrewed the box of the lock;
and, that being taken away, the door was no longer
opposed to my wishes.
Thus far | had proceeded with the happiest suc-
cess, but close on the other side of the door there
was a kennel with a large mastiff dog, of which I
had not the smallest previous knowledge. Though I
stepped along in the most careful manner, this ani-
mal was disturbed. and began to bark. I was ex-
tremely disconcerted, but immediately applied myself
to soothe the animal, in which I presently succeeded.
I then returned along the passage to listen whether
any body had been disturbed by the noise of the dog •


.204
ADVENTURES OF
resolved, if that were the case, that I would return
to my dungeon, and endeavour to replace every thing
in its former state. But the whole appeared perfect-
ly quiet, and I was encouraged to proceed in my
operation
I now got to the wall, and had nearly gained half
the ascent, when I heard a voice at the garden door,
crying, Hulloa! who is there? who opened the
door? The man received no answer, and the night
was too dark for him to distinguish objects at any
distance. He therefore returned, as I judged, into
the house for a light. Meantime the dog, understand-
ing the key in which these interrogations were ut-
tered, began barking again more violently than ever.
1 had now no possibility of retreat, and I was not
without hopes that I might yet accomplish my object,
and clear the wall. Meanwhile a second man came
out, while the other was getting his lanthorn, and, by
that time I had got to the top of the wall, was able
to perceive me. He immediately set up a shout, ani
threw a large stone which grazed me in its flight
Alarmed at my situation, I was obliged to descend on
the other side without taking the necessary precau-
tions, and in my fall nearly dislocated my ancle.
There was a door in the wall, of which I was not
previously apprised; and, this being opened, the
iwo men with the lanthorn were on the other side in
an instant. They had then nothing to do but tn run
along the lane to the place from which I had des-
cended. I endeavoured to rise after my fall, but the
pain was so intense that I was scarcely able to stand,
and, after having limped a few paces, I twisted my
foot under me, and fell down again. I had now no i
remedy, and quietly suffered myself to be retaken.
. I was conducted to the keeper's room for that
night, and the two men sat up with me. I was ac-
costed with many interrogatories, to which I gave
little answer, but complained of the hurt in my leg.
To this I could ohtain no reply except, Curse you,
my lad! if that be all, we will give you some oint-
ment for that; we will anoint it with a little cold
iron. They were in deed excessively sulky with me,
for having broken their night's rest and given them
all this trouble. In the morning they were as good
as their word, fixing a pair of fetters upon both my
legs, regardless of the ancle which was now swelled
to a considerable size, and then fastening me with a



London, Published Aug 21,1824, by SFisher.
W Hopwood del
2. Remous saur
Look you, M. Turnkey, said Caleb, there is one
thing that such fellons as you are set over
us for, and another that you are not.
Page 205.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
20b
padlock to a staple in the floor of my dungeon. I
expostulated with warmth upon this treatment, told
them that I was a man upon whom the law had as
vet passed no censure, and who therefore in the eye
of the law was innocent. But they bid me keep
such fudge as that for people who knew no better;
that they knew what they did, and "would answer it
to any court in England."
• The pain of the fetter was intolerable. I endea-
voured in various ways to relieve it, and even pri-
vily to free my leg; but the more it was swelled, the
more was this rendered impossible. I then resolved
to bear it with patience; still she longer it continued,
the worse it grew. After two days and two nights Í
intreated the turnkey to go and ask the surgeon who
usually atteaded the prison to look at it, for, if it
continued longer as it was, I was convinced it would
mortify. But he glared surlily at me, and said, D-n
my blood! I should like to see that day. To die of
a mortification is too good an end for such a rascal!
At the time that he thus addressed me, the whole
mass of my blood was already fevered by the anguish
I had undergone, my patience was wholly exhausted,
and I was silly enough to be irritated beyond bearing
by his impertinence and vulgarity. Look you, Mr.
Turnkey, said I, there is one thing that such fellows
as you are set over us for, and another thing that you
are not. Yon are to take care we do not escape,
but it is no part of your office to call us names and
abuse us. If I were not chained down to my seat,
you dare as well eat your fingers as use such lan-
guage; and, take my word for it, you snall yet live
to repent of your insolence.
· While I thus spoke, the man stared at me with
astonishment. He was so little accustomed to such
retorts, that at first he could scarcely believe his
ears; and such was the firmness of my manner, that
he seemed to forget for a moment that I was not at
large. But, as soon as he had time to recollect him-
self, he did not deign even to be angry. His face
relaxed into a smile of contempt, he snapped his
fingers at me, and, turning upon his heel, exclaimed.
Well said, my cock! Crow away! Have a care you
do not harst! and, as he shut the door upon me,
mimicked the voice of the animal he mentioned.
This rejoinder brought me to myself in a moment,
and showed me the impotence of the resentment I
Еe


206
ADVENTURES OF
was expressing. But, though he thus put an end to
the violence of my speech, the torture of my body
continued as great as ever. I was determined to
change my mode of attack. The same turnkey re-
turned in a few minutes; and, as he approached m
to put down some food he had brought, I slipped
shilling into his hand, saying at the same time, My
good fellow, for God's sake, go to the surgeon: I am
sure you do not wish me to perish for want of assist-
ance. The fellow put the shilling in his posket,
looked hard at me, and then with one nod of his
head, and without uttering a single word, wept away
The surgeon presently after made his appearance ;
and, finding the part in a high state of inflammation
ordered certain applications, and gave peremptory
directions that the fetter should not be replaced upor
that leg, till a cure had been effected. It was a full
month before the leg was perfectly healed, and made
equally strong and flexible with the other.
The condition in which I was now placed was to.
tally different from that which had preceded this at-
tempt. I was chained all day in my dungeon, ex
cept that the door was regularly opened for a few
hours, at which time some of the prisoners occasion-
ally came and spoke to me, particularly one, who,
though he could ill replace my beloved Brightwel,
was innocent, guileless, and benevolent. This was
no other than the individual whom Mr. Falkland had
some months before dismissed upon an accusation of
murder. My manual labours were now at an end ;
my dungeon was searched every night, and every
kind of tool carefully kept from me. The stravy
which had been hitherto allowed me was removed.
under pretence that it was adapted for concealment:
and the only conveniences with which I was indulged
were a chair and a blanket.
A prospect of some alleviation in no long time
opened upon me; but this my usual ill fortune ren-
dered abortive. The keeper once more made his
appearance, and with his former unconstitutional
and ambiguous humanity. He pretended to be sur-
prised at my want of every accommodation. He re-
prehended in strong terms my attempt to escape, and
observed that there must be an end of civility from
people in his situation, if gentlemen after all would
not know when they were well. It was necessary in
cases the like of this to let the law take its course


CALEB WILLIAMS. 207
and it would be ridiculous in me to complain, if after
a regular trial, things should go hard with me. He
was desirous of being in every respect my friend, if
I would let him. In the midst of this circumloca-
tion and preamble, he was called away from me for
something relating to the business of his office. In
the mean time I ruminated upon his overtures; and,
detesting as I did the source from which I conceived
them to flow, I could not help reflecting how far it
would be possible to extract from them the means of
escape. But my meditations in this case were vain.
The keeper returned no more during the remainder
of that day, and on the next an incident occurred
which put an end to all expectations from his
kindness.
An active mind, which has once been forced into
any particular train, can scarcely be persuaded to
desert it as hopeless. I had studied my chains du-
ring the extreme anguish that I endured from the
pressure of the fetter upon the ancle which had been
sprained ; and, though from the swelling and acute
sensibility of the part I had found all attempts at re-
lief in that instance impracticable, I obtained from the
coolness of my investigation another and apparently
superior advantage. During the night my dungeon
was in a state of complete darkness ; but when the
door was open, the case was somewhat different.
The passage indeed into which it opened was so nar-
row, and the opposite dead wall so near, that it was
but a glimmering and melancholy light that entered
my apartment, even at full noon, and when the door
was at its widest extent. But my eyes, after a prac-
tice of two or three weeks, aceommodated them-
selves to this circumstance, and I learned to distin-
guish the minutest objects. One day, as I was alter-
nately meditating and examining the objects around
me, I chanced to observe a nail trodden into the
mud-floor at no great distance from me. I immedi-
ately conceived the desire of possessing myself of
this implement; but, for fear of surprise, people
passing perpetually to and fro, I contented myself
for the present with remarking its sitnation so accu-
rately, that I might easily find it again in the dark.
Accordingly, as soon as my door was shut, I seized
upon this new treasure, and, having contrived to
fashion it to my purpose, found that I could unlock
with it the padlock that fastened me to the staple in


208
ADVENTURES OF
the floor. This I regarded as no inconsiderable ad"
vantage, separately from the use I might derive from
it in relation to my principal object. My chain per-
mitted me to move only about eighteen inches to the
right or left; and, having borne this confinement for
several weeks, my very heart leaped at the pitiful
consolation of being able to range with out constraint,
the miserable coop in which I was immured. This
incident had occurred several days previously to the
last visit of my keeper.
From this time it had been my constant practice to
liberale myself every night, and not to replace things
in their former situation, till I awoke in the morning,
and expected shortly to perceive the entrance of the
turnkey. Security breeds negligence. On the morn-
ing succeeding my conference with the jailor, it so
happened, whether I overslept myself, or the turnkey
went his round earlier than usual, that I was roused
from my sleep by the noise he made in opening the
cell next to my own; and, though I exerted the utmost
diligence, yet having to grope for my materials in the
dark, I was unable to fasten the chain to the staple.
before he entered as usual with his lanthorn. He
was extremely surprised to find me disengaged, and
immediately summoned the principal keeper. I was
questioned respecting my method of proceeding; and
as I believed concealment could lead to nothing bui
a severer search and a more accurate watch, I rea-
dily acquainted them with the exact truth. The illus-
trious personage, whose function it was to control
the inhabitants of these walls, was by this last in-
stance completely exasperated against me. Artifice
and fair speaking were at an end. His eyes spark-
ling with fury, he exclaimed, that he was now con-
vinced of the folly of showing kindness to rascals
the scum of the earth, such as I was; and, damn him,
if any body should catch him at that again towards
any one. I had cured him effectually! He was as-
tonished that the laws had not provided some terrible
retalliation for thieves that attempted to deceive their
Jailors. Hanging was a thousand times too good for
Having vented his indignation, he proceeded to
give such orders as the united instigations of anger
and alarm suggested to his mind. My apartment was
changed. I was conducted to a room called the
strong room, the door of which opened into the mid
me !


CALEB WILLIAMS.
209
blei dle cell of the range of dungeons. It was ander-
ce bis ground as they were, and had also the day room for
ne felons, already described, immediately over it. It
toid was spacious and dreary. The door had not been
it opened for years ; the air was putrid; and the walls
pit hung round with damps and mildew. The fetters,
treat the padlock, and the staple were employed as in the
The former case, in addition to which they put on me a
tube pair of hand-cuffs. For my first provision the keeper
sent me nothing but a bit of bread, mouldy and black,
Licet and some dirty and stinking water. I know not in-
deed whether this is to be regarded as gratuitous ty.
ranny on the part of the jailor; the law having pro-
vidently directed in certain cases, that the water to
be administered to the prisoners, shall be taken from
" the next sink or puddle nearest to the jail*.” It
was further ordered that one of the turnkeys should
sleep in the cell that formed a sort of anti-chamber
# to my apartment. Though every convenience was
provided to render this chamber fit for the reception
of a personage, of a dignity so superior to the felon
he was appointed to guard, he expressed much dissa-
tisfaction at the mandate: but there was no alterna-
tive.
The situation to which I was thus removed was ap-
parently the most undesirable that could be imagin-
ed: but I was not discouraged. I had for some time
learned not to judge by appearances. The apartment
was dank and unwholsome; but I had acquired the
a secret of counteracting these influences. My door
was kept continually shut, and the other prisoners
were debarred access to me; but, if the intercourse
E of our fellow-men has its pleasures, solitude on the
2. other hand is not without its advantages. In solitude
we can pursue our own thoughts undisturbed ; and I
was able to call up at will the most pleasing avoca.
tions. Beside which, to one who meditated such de-
signs as now filled my mind, solitude had peculiar re.
commendations. I was scarcely left to myself, be-
fore I tried an experiment, the idea of which I con-
ceived while they were fixing my hand-cuffs; and,
with my teeth only, disengaged myself from this re-
straint. The hours at which I was visited by the
-
-
*In the case of the peine forte et dure.
Trials, Vol. I, anno 1615.
See state


210
ADVENTURES OF
keepers were regular, and I took care to be provided
for them. Add to which, I had a narrow grated win-
dow near the cieling, about nine inches in perpendi-
cnlar, and a foot and a half horizontally, which thongh
small, admitted a much stronger light, than that to
which I had been accustomed for several weeks.
Thus circumstanced, I scarcely ever found myself in
total darkness, and was better provided against sur-
prises, than I had been in my preceding situation
Such were the sentiments which this change of abode
immediately suggested.
I had been a very little time removed, when I re-
ceived an unexpected visit from Thomas, Mr. Falk-
land's footman, whom I have already mentioned in
the course of my narrative. A servant of Mr. Fore.
ster happened to come to the town where I was im-
prisoned, a few weeks before, while I was confined
with the hurt in my ancle, and had called in to see
me. The account he gave of what he observed had
been the source of many an uneasy sensation to Tho-
mas. The former visit was a matter of mere curiosity,
bnt Thomas was of the better order of servants. He
was considerably struck at the sight of me. Though
my mind was now serene, and my health sufficiently 1
good, yet the floridness of my complexion was gone,
and there was a rudeness in my physiognomy, the
consequence of hardship and fortitude, extremely un-
like the sleekness of my better days. Thomas look-
ed alternately in my face, at my hands and my feet; i
and then fetched a deep sigh. After a pause
Lord bless us! said he, in a voice in which com-
misseration was sufficiently perceptible, is this you ? :
Why not, Thomas ? You knew I was sent to pri. i
son, did not you ?
Prison ! and must people in prison be shackled and
bound of that fashion ?- and where do you lay of
nights ?
Here.
Here ? Why there is no bed!.
No, Thomas, I am not allowed a bed. I had straw
formerly, but that is taken away. .
And do they take off them there things of nights ?
No; I am expected to sleep just as you see.
Sleep? Why I thought this was a Christian coun.
try; but this usage is too bad for a dog.
You must not say so, Thomas. It is what the wis-
dom of government has thought fit to provide.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
211
Zounas, how I have been deceived! They told me
what a fine thing it was to be an Englishman, and
about liberty and property, and all that there ; and I
Der find it is all a flam. Lord, what fools we be ! Things
are done under our very noses, and we know nothing
of the matter; and a parcel of fellows with grave
faces swear to us that such things never happen hut
in France, and other countries the like of that. Why,
you han't been tried, ha'you ?
No.
And what signifies being tried, when they do worse
than hang a man, and all beforehand? Well, master
Williams, you have been very wicked to be sure, and
I thought it would have done me good to see you han-
ged. But, I do not know how it is, one's heart melts,
and pity comes over one, if we take time to cool. Í
know that ought not to be; but, damn it, when I talk-
ed of your being hanged, I did not think of your suf-
fering all this into the bargain.
Soon after this conversation Thomas left me. The
idea of the long connexion of our families rushed upon
his memory, and he felt more for my sufferings at the
moment than I did for myself. In the afternoon 1
was surprised to see him again. He said, that be
could not get the thought of me out of his mind, and
therefore he hoped I would not be displeased at his
coming once more to take leave of me." I could per-
ceive that he had something upon his mind, which he
did not know how to discharge. One of the turnkeys
had each time come into the room with him, and con-
tinued as long as he staid. Upon some avocation
om however, a noise I believe in the passage, the turn-
bu key went as far as the door to satisfy his curiosity;
pro and Thomas, watching the opportunity, slipped into
my hand a chissel, a file, and a saw, exclaiming at
the same time with a sorrowful tone, I know I am
doing wrong; but, if they hang me too, I cannot help
it: I cannot do no other. For Christ's sake, get out
of this place; I cannot bear the thoughts of it I-I
received the implements with great joy, and thrust
Tall them into my bosom; and, as soon as he was gone,
o concealed them in the rushes of my chair. For him-
s? self, he had accomplished the object which he came,
and presently after hade me farewel.
w The next day the keepers, I know not for what
· reason, were more than usually industrious in their
W search, saying, though without assigning any ground


212
ADVENTURES OF "
for their suspicion, that they were sure I had some
tool in my possession that I ought not; but the de-
pository I had chosen escaped them.
I waited from this time the greater part of a week
that I might have the benefit of a bright moon-light.
It was necessary that I should work in the night; it
was necessary that my operations should be perform-
ed between the last visit of the keepers at night and !
their first in the morning, that is, between nine in the
evening and seven. In my dungeon, as I have al-
ready said, I passed fourteen or sixteen hours of the
four and twenty indisturbed; but, since I had ac-
quired a character for mechanical ingenuity, a par-
ticular exception with respect to me was made from
the general rules of the prison.
It was ten o'clock when I entered on my undertak-
ing. The room in which I was confined was secured
with a double door. This was totally superfluous for
the purpose of my detention, since there was a sen.
tinal planted on the outside. But it was very fortu-
nate for my plan, because these doors prevented the
easy communication of sound, and afforded me toler.
able satisfaction that with a little care in my mode of
proceeding I might be secure against the danger of
being overheard. I first took off my hand-cuffs. I
then filed through my fetters; and next performed
the same service to three of the iron bars that secure
ed my window, to which I climbed, partly by the as-
sistance of my chair, and partly by means of certain
irregularities in the wall. All this was the work of
more than two hours. When the bars were filed
through, I easily forced them a little from the per-'!
pendicular, and then drew them one by one out of
the wall, into which they were sunk about three
inches, perfectly straight, and without any precau-
tion to prevent their being removed. But the space
thus obtained was by no means wide enough to ad.
mit the passing of my body. I therefore applied my-
self partly with my chissel, and partly with one of
the iron bars, to the loosening the brick work ; and, i
when I had thus disengaged four or five bricks, I got
down and piled them upon the floor. This operation
I repeated three or four times. The space was now
sufficient for my purpose ; and having crept throngh
the opening, I stepped upon a sort of shed on the
outside.
I was now in a kind of rude area between two dead


CALEB WILLIAMS.
213
walls, that south of the felon's day-room, the windows
of which were at the east end, and the wall of the
prison. But I had not, as formerly, any instruments
to assist me in scaling the wall which was of a con-
siderable height. There was of consequence no re-
source for me, but that of effecting a practicable breach
in the lower part of the wall, which was of no cop.
temptible strength, being of stone on the outside, with
a facing of brick within. The rooms for the debtors
were at right angles with the building from which I
just escaped; and, as the night was extremely bright,
I was in momentary danger, particularly in case of
the least noise, of being discovered by them, several
of their windows commanding this area. Thus cir-
cumstanced, I deternrined to make the shed answer
the purpose of concealment. It was locked; but
with the broken link of my fetters, which I had had
the precaution to bring with me, I found no great dif-
ficulty in opening the lock. I had now got a suffi-
cient means of hiding my person while proceded in
my work, attended with no other disadvantage, than
that of being obliged to leave the door through which
I had thus broken, a little open for the sake of light.
After some time I had removed a considerable part
of the brick-work of the outer wall; but, when I came
to the stone, I found the undertaking infinitely more
difficult. The mortar which bound together the build-
ing, was by length of time nearly petrified, and ap-
peared to my first efforts one solid rock of the hardest
adament. I had now been six hours incessantly en-
gaged in incredible labour : my chisel broke in the
first attempt upon this new obstacle, and between
fatigue already endured, and the seemingly invinci-
ble difficulty before me, I concluded that I must re-
main where I was, and gave up the idea of further
effort as useless. At the same time the moon, whose
light had till now been of the greatest use to me, set,
and I was left in total darkness.
After a respite of ten minutes however, I returned
to the attack with new vigour. It could not be less
than two hours before the first stone was loosened
from the edifice. “In one hour more the space was
sufficient to admit of my escape. The pile of bricks
I had left in the strong room was considerable. But
it was a mole-hill compared with the ruins I had forc-
ed from the outer wall. I am fully assured that the
work I had thus performed, would have been to a
Ff


214
ADVENTURES OF
cos non labsarer, with every adiantage of tools, the
business of two or three days.
Bat my dimicalties instead of being ended, seemed
to be oals hezun. The day broke before I had com.
pleted the opening, and in ten minutes more the
keepers would probably enter my apartment, and
perceive the derastation I had left. The lane, which
connected the side of the prison through which I had
escaped with the adjacent country, was formed chiefis
br two dead walls, with here and there a stable, a
few warehouses, and some mean habitations tenant.
ed by the lower order of people. My best security
las in clearing the town as soon as possible, and de-
pending upon the open country for protection. My
arms were intolerably swelled and bruised with my
labour, and my strength seemed wholly exhaustea
with fatigue. Speed I was nearly unable to exert
for any continuance; and, if I could, with the enemy
so close at my heels, speed would too probably have
been useless. It appeared as if I were now in almost
the same situation, as that in which I had been plac-
ed five or six weeks before, in which after having
completed my escape I was obliged to yield myself
op without resistance to my pursuers. I was not
however disabled as then; I was capable of exertion
to what precise extent I could not ascertain ; and I
was well aware that in every instance in which I
should fail of my purpose, would contribute to en
hance the difficulty of any future attempt. Such wer !
the considerations that presented themselves in re
lation to my escape; and, even if that were effected
I had to reckon among my difficulties that, at the
time I quitted my prison, I was destitute of every
resource, and had not a shilling remaining in thi
world.
I passed along the lane I have described, without
perceiving or being observed by a human being. The
doors were shut, the window-shutters closed, and
all was still as night. I reached the extremity of the
lane unmolested. My pursuers, if they immediately
followed, would know that the likelihood was small
of my having, in the interval, found shelter in this
place; and would proceed without hesitation, as I
on my part was obliged to do, from the end nearest
to the prison to its furthest termination. ·
The face of the country, in the spot to which I had
thus opened myself a passage, was rude and uncul.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
215
tivated. It was overgrown with brushwood and
furze ; the soil was for the most part of a loose sand;
and the surface extremely irregular. I climbed a
small eminence, and could perceive, not very remote
in the distance, a few cottages thinly scattered.
This prospect did not altogether please me; I con-
īceived that my safety would, for the present, be ex-
tremely assisted, by keeping myself from the view
of any human being.
I therefore came down again into the valley, and
upon a careful examination perceived that it was in.
terspersed with cavities, some deeper than others,
but all of them so shallow as neither to be capable
of hiding a man, nor of exciting suspicion as places
of possible concealment. Meanwhile the day had
but just begun to dawn; the morning was lowering
and drizzly; and, though the depth of these caverns
was of course well known to the neighbouring inha-
bitants, the shadows they cast were so black and im-
penetrable, as might well have produced wider ex-
pectations in the mind of a stranger. Poor therefore
as was the protection they were able to afford, 1
thought it right to have recourse to it for the moment,
as the best the emergency would supply. It was for
my life; and, the greater was the jeopardy to which
it was exposed, the more dear did that life seem to
become to my affections. The recess I chose as
most secure, was within little more than a hundred
yards of the end of the lane, and the extreme build-
ings of the town.
I had not stood up in this manner two minutes, be-
fore I heard the sound of feet, and presently saw
the ordinary turnkey and another pass the place of
my retreat. They were so close to me that, if I had
stretched out my hand, I believe I could have caught
hold of their clothes without so much as changing my
posture. As no part of the overhanging earth inter-
vened between me and them, I could see them en-
tire, though the deepness of the shade rendered me
almost completely invisible. I heard them say to
each other, in tones of vehement asperity, curse
the rascal! which way can he be gone? The reply
was, Damn him! I wish we had him but safe once
again! Never fear! rejoined the first, he cannot have
above half a mile the start of us. 'They were pre-
sently out of hearing ; for, as to sight, I dared not
advance my body, so much as an inch, to look after


216 ADVENTURES OF
them, lest I should be discovered by my pursuers in
some other direction. From the very short time that
elapsed, between my escape and the appearance of
these men, I concluded that they had made their
way through the same outlet as I had done, it being
impossible that they could have had time to come,
from the gate of the prison, and so round a consi-
derable part of the town, as they must otherwise
have done.
I was so alarmed at this instance of diligence on
the part of the enemy, that, for some time, I scarcely
ventured to proceed an inch from my place of con-
cealment, or almost to change my posture. The
morning, which had been bleak and drizzly, was
succeeded by a day of heavy and incessant rain ; and
the gloomy state of the air and surrounding objects,
together with the extreme nearness of my prison,
and a total want of food, caused me to pass the hours
in no very agreeable sensations. This inclemency of
the weather however, which generated a feeling of
stillness and solitude, encouraged me by degrees to
change my retreat, for another of the same nature,
but of somewhat greater security. I hovered with
little variation about a single spot, as long as the sun
continued above the horizon..
Towards evening, the clouds began to disperse,
and the moon shone, as on the preceding night, in
full brightness. I had perceived no human creature
during the whole day, except in the instance already
mentioned. This had perhaps been owing to the na-
ture of the day; at all events I considered it as too
hazardous an experiment, to venture from my hiding-
place in so clear and fine a night. I was therefore
obliged to wait for the setting of this luminary, which
was not till near five o'clock in the morning. My
only relief during this interval, was to allow myself
to sink to the bottom of my cavern, it being soarcely
possible for me to continue any longer en my feet.
Here I fell into an interrupted and unrefreshing doze,
the consequence of a laborious night, and a tedious,
melancholy day; though I rather sought to avoid sleep,
which, co-operating with the coldness of the season,
would tend more to injury than advantage.
The period of darkness, which I had determined
to use for the purpose of removing to a greater dis-
tance from my prison, was, in its whole duration,
something less than three hours. When I rose from


CALEB WILLIAMS.
217
my seat, I was weak with hunger and fatigue, and,
which was worse, I seemed, between the dampness
of the preceding day, and the sharp, clear frost of
the night, to have lost the command of my limbs. I
stood up and shook myself; I leaned against the side
of the hill, impelling in different directions the mus-
cles of the extremities; and at length recovered in
some degree the sense of feeling. This operation
was attended with an incredible aching pain, and re-
quired no common share of resolution to encounter
and prosecute it. Having quitted my retreat, I at
first advanced with weak and tottering steps; but,
as I proceeded, increased my pace. The barren
heath, which reached to the edge of the town, was,
at least on this side, without a path ; but the stars
shone, and, guiding myself by them, I determined
to steer as far as possible from the hateful scene
where I had been so long confined. The line I pur,
sued was of irregular surface, sometimes obliging
me to climb a steep ascent, and at others to go down
into a dark and impenetrable dell. I was often com-
pelled, by the dangerousness of the way, to deviate
considerably from the direction I wished to pursne.
In the mean time I advanced with as much rapidity,
as these and similar obstacles would permit me to
do. The swiftness of the motion, and the thinness
of the air, restored to me my alacrity. I forgot the
inconveniences under which I laboured, and my mind
became lively, spirited, and enthusiastic.
I had now reached the border of the heath, and
entered upon what is usually termed the forest.-
Strange as it may seem, it is nevertheless true, that,
in this conjuncture, exhausted with hunger, destitnte
of all provision for the future, and surrounded with
the most alarming dangers, my mind suddenly be-
came glowing, animated, and cheerful. I thought
that, by this time, the most formidable difficulties of
my undertaking were surmounted; and I could not
believe that, after having effected so much, I should
fiad any thing invincible in what remained to be done.
I recollected the confinement I had undergone, and
the fate that had impended over me, with horror.
Never did man feel more vividly, than I felt at that
moment, the sweets of liberty. Never did man more
strenuously prefer poverty with independence, to the
artificial allurements of a life of slavery. I stretched
forth my arms with rapture, I clapped my hands one


ADVENTURES OF
upon the other, and exclaimed, 'Ah, this is indeed to
be a man! These wrists were lately galled with fet.
ters; all my motions, whether I rose up or sat down,
were echoed to with the clanking of chains: I was
tied down like a wild beast, and could not move but
in a circle of a few feet in circumference. Now I
can run fleet as a greyhound, and leap like a young
roe upon the mountains. Oh, God! (if God there
be that condescends to record the lonely beatings of
an anxious heart) thou only canst tell with what de.
light a prisoner, just broke forth from his dungeon,
hugs the blessings of new-found liberty! Sacred and
indescribable moment, when man regains his rights!
But lately I held my life in jeopardy, because one
man was unprincipled enough to assert what he knew
to be false ; I was destined to suffer an early and in-
exorable death from the hands of others, because
none of them had penetration enough to distinguish
from falsehood, what I uttered with the entire con-
viction of a full-fraught heart! Strange, that men
from age to age should consent to hold their lives at
the breath of another, merely that each in his turn
may have a power of acting the tyrant according to
law! Oh, God! give me poverty! shower upon me
all the imaginary hardships of human life! I will re-
ceive them all with thankfulness. Turn me a prey
to the wild beasts of the desert, so I be never again
the victim of man dressed in the gore-dripping robes
of authority! Suffer me at least to call life and the
pursuits of life my own! Let me hold it at the mercy
of elements, of the hunger of beasts or the revenge
of barbarians. bnt not of the cold blooded prudence
of monopolists and kings! How enviable was the
enthusiasm, which could thus furnish me with energy,
in the midst of hunger, poverty, and universal
desertion!
I had now walked at least six miles. At first I &
carefully avoided the habitations that lay in my way,
and feared to be seen by any of the persons to whoin
they belonged, lest it should in any degree furnish a
clue to the researches of my pursuers. As I went
forward, I conceived it might be proper to relax a
part of my precaution. At this time I perceived se-
veral persons coming out of a thicket close to me. Is
immediately considered this circumstance as rather
favourable than the contrary. It was necessary fn
me to avoid entering any of the towns and villago


CALEB WILLIAMS.
219
in the vicinity. It was however full time that I should
procure for myself some species of refreshment, and
by no means improbable that these men might be in
some way assisting to me in that respect. In my si.
tuation it appeared to me indifferent what might be
their employment or profession. I had little to appre-
hend from thieves, and I believed that they, as well
as honest men, could not fail to have some compas-
sion for a person under my circumstances. I there-
fore rather threw myself in their way, than avoided
them.
They were thieves. One of the company cried
out, Who goes there ? stand! I accosted them ; Gen-
tlemen, said I, I am a poor traveller, almost
While I spoke, they came round me, and he that
had first hailed me, said, D nme, tip us none of
your palaver; we have heard that story of a poor
traveller any time these five years. Come, down
with your dust! let us see what you have got! Sir,
I replied, I have not a shilling in the world, and am
more than half starved beside. Not a shilling! an-
swered my assailant, what, I suppose you are as
poor as a thief ? But, if you have not money, you
have clothes, and those you must resign.
My clothes! rejoined I with indignation, you cannot
desire such a thing. Is it not enough that I am pen-
nyless? I have been all night upon the open heath.
It is now the second day that I have not eaten a mor-
sel of bread. Would you strip me naked to the wea-
ther in the midst of this depopulated forest ? No, no,
you are men ! The same hatred of oppression, that
arms you against the insolence of wealth, will teach
you to relieve those who are perishing like me. For
God's sake, give me food! do not strip me of the
comforts I still possess!
While I'uttered this apostrophe, the unpremedita-
ted eloquence of sentiment, I could perceive by their
gestures, though the day had not yet begun to dawn,
that the feelings of one or two of the company ap-
peared to take my part. The man, who had already
Tindertaken to be their spokesman, perceived the
same thing; and, excited either by the brutality of
his temper or the love of command, hastened to an
ticipate the disgrace of a defeat. He brushed sud-
clenly up to me, and by main force pushed me several
Teet from the place where I stood. The shock I re-
ceived drove me upon a second of the gang, not one


220
ADVENTURES OF
of those who had listened to my expostulation; and !
he repeated the brutality. My indignation was strongly
excited by this treatment; and, after being thrust
backward and forward two or three times in this man-
ner, I broke through my assailants, and turned round
to defend myself. The first that advanced within
my reach, was my original enemy. In the present
moment I listened to nothing but the dictates of pag-
sion, and I laid him at his length on the earth. I was
immediately assailed with sticks and bludgeons on
all sides, and presently received a blow that almost
deprived me of my senses. The man I had knocked
down, was now opop his feet again, and aimed a
stroke at me with a cutlass as I fell, which took
place in a deep wound upon my neck and shoulder.
He was going to repeat his blow. The two who had
seemed to waver at first in their animosity, after-
wards appeared to me to join in the attack, urged ei.
ther by animal sympathy, or the spirit of imitation.
One of them however, as I afterwards understood,
seized the arm of the man who was going to strike
me a second time with his cutlass, and who would
otherwise probably have put an end to my existence
I could hear the words, D- nit, enough, enough.
that is too bad, Gines! How so? replied a second
voice ; he will but pine here upon the forest, and die
by inches: it will be an act of charity to put him out
of his pain. It will be imagined that I was not unin. 9
terested in this sort of debate. I made an effort to
speak; my voice failed me. I stretched out one
hand with a gesture of intreaty. You shall not strike,
by God! said one of the voices; why should we be
murderers ?—The side of forbearance at length pre-
vailed. They therefore contented themselves with
stripping me of my coat and waistcoat, and rolling
me into a dry ditch. They then left me, totally re-
gardless of my distressed condition, and the plentiful
effusion of blood which streamed from my wound.
In this woful situation, though extremely weak, I
was not deprived of sense. I tore my shirt from
my naked body, and endeavoured, with some sic-
cess, to make of it a bandage to staunch the flowing
of the blood. I then exerted myself to crawl up the
side of the ditch. I had scarcely effected the latter,
when, with equal surprise and joy, I perceived a ]
man advancing at no great distance. I called for
help as well as I could. The man came towards me


ADVENTURES OF
to overhang their foundations, and to totter to their
ruin. After having entered however with my con-
ductor through an arch-way, and passed along a
winding passage that was perfectly dark, we came
to a stand.
At the upper end of this passage was a door, which
I was unable to perceive. My conductor knocked
at the door, and was answered by a voice from with-
in, which, for body and force, might have been the
yoice of a man, but with a sort of female sharpness
and acidity, enquiring, Who is there? Satisfaction
was no sooner given in this point, than I heard two
bolts pushed back, and the door unlocked. The
apartment opened, and we entered. The interior of
this habitation by no means corresponded with the
appearance of my protector, but on the contrary wore
a face of discomfort, carelessness and dirt. The
only person I saw within was a woman, rather ad-
vanced in life, and whose person had I know not
what of extraordinary and loatlısome. Her eyes
were red and blood-shot; her hair was pendent in
matted and shaggy tresses about her shoulders ; her
complexion swarthy, and of the consistency of parch-
ment; her form spare, and her whole body, her
arms in particular, uncommonly vigorous and mus-
cular. Not the milk of human kindness, but the fe-
verous blood of savage ferocity, seemed to flow from
her heart; and her whole figure suggested an idea of
unmitigable energy, and an appetite gorged in male.
volence. This infernal Thalestris had no sooner
cast her eyes upon us as we en'ered, than she ex-
claimed in a discordant and discontented voice,
What have we got here? this is not one of our peo-
ple! My conductor, without answering this apos-
trophe, bid her push an easy chair, which stood in
one corner, and set it directly before the fire. This
she did with apparent reluctance, muttering, Ah,
you are at your old tricks; I wonder what such folks
as we, have to do with charity! It will be the rain
of us at last, I can see that! Hold your tongue, bel-
dam! said he, with a stern significance of manner,
and fetch one of my hest shirts, a waistcoat, and
some dressings. Saying this, he at the same time
put into her hand a small bunch of keys. In a word,
he treated me with as much kindness as if he had
been my father. He examined my wound, washed
and dressed it; at the same time that the old woman


CALEB WILLIAMS. 223
' by his express order prepared for me such nourish-
ment, as he thought most suitable to my weak and
languid condition.
• These operations were no sooner completed, than
my benefactor recommended to me to retire to rest,
and preparations were making for that purpose, when
suddenly a trampling of feet was heard, succeeded by
a knock at the door. The old woman opened the
door, with the same precautions as had been employ-
ed upon our arrival, and immediately six or seven
persons tumultously entered the apartment. Their
appearance was different, some having the air of
mere rustics, and others that of a tarnished sort of
gentry. All had a feature of boldness, inquietude,
and disorder, extremely unlike any thing I had be-
fore observed in such a groupe. But my astonishment
was still increased, when upon a second glance I
perceived something in the general air of several of
them, and of one in particular, that persuaded me
they were the gang from which I had just escaped,
and this one the antagonist by whose animosity I was
so near having been finally destroyed. I imagined
they had entered the hovel with a hostile intention,
that my benefactor was upon the point of being rob-
bed, and I probably murdered.
This suspicion however was soon removed. They
addressed my conductor with respect under the ap.
pellation of captain. They were boisterous and noisy
in their remarks and exclamations, but their turba-
lence was tempered by a certain deference to his
opinion and authority. I could observe in the person
who had been my active opponent some aukwardness
and irresolution as he first perceived me, which he
dismissed with a sort of effort, exclaiming, Who the
devil is here? There was something in the tone of
this apostrophe, that roused the attention of my pro-
tectur. He looked at the speaker with a fixed and
penetrating glance, and then said, Nay, Gines, do
you know? Did you ever see the person before ?
Curse it, Gines ! interrupted a third, you are dam-
nably out of luck. They say dead men walk, and
you see there is some truth in it. Truce with your
impertinence, Jeckels ! replied my protector, this is
no proper occasion for a joke. Answer me, Gines,
were you the cause of this young man being left na-
ked and wounded this bitter morning upon the forest?
Mayhap I was. What then?


224
ADVENTURES OF
What provocation could induce you to so cruel a
treatment?
Provocation enough. He had no money,
What, did you use him thus, without so much as
being irritated by any resistance on his part ?
Yes, he did resist. I only hustled him, and he
had the impudence to strike me.
Gines! you are an incorrigible fellow.
Pooh, what signifies what I am ? You with your
compassion, and your fine feelings, will bring us all
to the gallows.
I have nothing to say to you; I have no hopes of
you! Comrades, it is for you to decide upon the con-
duct of this man as you think proper. You know
how repeated his offences have been; you know
what pains I have taken to mend him. Our profes.
sion is the profession of justice. [It is thus that the
prejudices of men universally teach them to colour
the most desperate cause, to which they have deter-
mined to adhere.] We, who are thieves without a
licence, are at open war with another set of men,
who are thieves according to law. With such a cause
then to bear us out, shall we stain it with cruelty,
malice, and revenge ?-A thief is, of course, a man
living among his equals; I do not pretend therefore
to assume any authority among you; act as you think
proper; but, so far as relates to myself, I vote that
Gines be expelled from among us as a disgrace to
our society.
This proposition seemed to meet the general sense.
It was easy to perceive that the opinion of the rest
coincided with that of their leader; notwithstanding
which a few of them hesitated as to the conduct to
be pursued. In the mean time Gines muttered some,
thing in a surly and irresolute way, about taking care
how they provoked him. This insinuation instantly
roused the courage of my protector, and his eyes
flashed with contempt.
Rascal! said he, do you menace as ? Do you think
we will be your slaves ? No, no, do your worst! Go
to the next justice of the peace and impeach us; I
can easily believe you are capable of it." Sir, when
we entered into this gang, we were not such fools as
not to know that we entered upon a service of danger.
One of its dangers consists in the treachery of fel-
lo'ws like you. But we did not enter at first, to flinch
non. Did you believe that we would live in hourly


CALEB WILLIAMS 225
fear of you, tremble at your threats, and compromises
whenever you should so please, with your insolence?
That would be a blessed life indeed!' I wonld rather
see my flesh torn piecemeal from my bones.! Go, sir!
I defy you! You dare not do it! You dare not sacri-
fice these gallant fellows to your rage, and publish
yourself to all the world a traitor and a scoundrel'
If you do, you will punish yourself, not us! Begone!
The intrepidity of the leader communicated itsel
to the rest of the company. Gines easily saw, that
there was no hope of bringing them over to a con.
trary sentiment. “After a short pause, he answered,
I did not mean—No, damn it! I will not spivel nei-
ther. I was always true to my principles, and a
friend to you all. But, since you are resolved to turn
me out, why-good bye to you!
The expulsion of this man produced a remarkable
improvement in the whole gang. Those who were
before inclined to humanity, assumed new energy, in
proportion as they saw such sentiments likely to pre-
vail. They had before suffered themselves to be
overborne, hy the boisterous insolence of their anta-
gonists; but now they adopted, and with success, a
different conduct. Those who envied the ascendancy
of their comrade, and therefore imitated his conduct,
began to hesitate in their career. Stories were brought
forward of the cruelty and brutality of Gines, both
to men and animals, which had never before reached
the ear of the leader. These stories I shall not re-
peat. They could excite only emotions of abhorrence
and disgust, and some of them argued a mind of such
a stretch of depravity, as to many readers would
appear atterly incredible. And yet this man had
his virtues. He was enterprizing, persevering, and
faithful.
His removal was a considerable benefit to me. It
wonld have been no small hardship, to have beep
turned adrift immediately under my unfavoạrable cir-
cumstances, with the additional disadvantage of the
wound I had received ; and yet I could scarcely have
ventured to remain under the same roof with a man,
to whom my appearance was as a guilty conscience,
perpetually reminding him of bịs own offence, and
the counteraction of his leader. His profession ac-
customed him to a certain degree of indifference to
consequences, and indulgence to the sallies of pas-
sion ; and he might easily have found his opportunity


226
ADVENTURES OF
to insult or injure me, when I shonld have had now
thing, but my own debilitated exertions, to protect me.
Freed from this danger, I found my situation suf-
ficiently fortunate for a man under my circumstances.
It was attended with all the advantages for conceal-
ment my fondest imagination could have hoped; and
it was hy no means destitute of the benefits which
arise from kindness and humanity. Nothing could
be more unlike, than the thieves I had seen in--
jail, and the thieves of my new residence. The lat-
ter were generally full of cheerfulness and merri-
ment. They could expatiate freely wherever they
thought proper. They could form plans and execnte
them. They consulted their inclinations. They did
not impose upon themselves the task, as is too often
the case in human society, of seeming tacitly to ap-
prove that from which they suffered most; or, which
is worse, of persuading themselves that all the wrongs
they suffered were right; but were at open war with
their oppressors. On the contrary, the imprisoned
felons I had lately seen were shut up like wild heasts
in a cage, deprived of activity, and palsied with in-
dolence. The occasional demonstrations that still
remained of their former enterprizing life, were the
starts and convulsions of disease, not the meditated
and consistent exertions of a mind in health. They
had no more of hope, of project, of golden and ani-
mated drea
ed dreams, but were reserved to the most dismal
prospects, and forbidden to think upon any other
topic. It is true, that these two scenes were parts of
one whole, the one the consummation, the l'ourly to
be expected successor of the other. But the men I
now saw were wholly inattentive to this, and in that
respect appeared to hold no commerce with reflection
or reason. "
: I might in one view, as I have saia, congratulate
myself npon my present residence ; it answered com.
pletely the purposes of concealment. It was the seat
of merriment and hilarity; but the hilarity that cha-
racterised it, produced no correspondent feelings in
my bosom. The persons who composed this society
had, each of them, cast off all control from esta-
blished principle ; their trade was terror, and their
constant object to elude the vigilance of the commu.
nity. The influence of these circumstances was vi,
sible in their character. I found among them bene.
volence and kindness ; they were strongly susceptible


228
ADVENTUBES OF
public concern, she thought an old and experienced
sinner for a raw probationer but an ill exchange. Add
to which, that her habits inclined her to moroseness
and discontent, and that persons of her complexion
seem unable to exist, without some object upon which
to employ the superfluity of their gall. She lost no
opportunity, upon the most trifling occasion, of dis-
playing her animosity; and ever and anon eyed me
with a furious glance of canine hunger for my destruc-
tion. Nothing was more evidently mortifying to her,
than the procrastination of her malice ; nor could she
bear to think that a fierceness so gigantic and uncon.
trolable, should show itself in nothing more terrific,
than the pigmy spite of a chambermaid. For myself,
I had been accustomed to the warfare of formidable
adversaries, and the encounter of alarming dangers ;
and what I saw of her spleen, had not power suf-
ficient to disturb my tranquillity.
As I recovered, I told my story, except so far as
related to the detection of Mr. Falkland's eventful
secret, to my protector. That particular I could not
as yet prevail upon myself to disclose, even in a si-
tuation like this, which seemed to preclude the pos-
sibility of its being made use of to the disadvantage
of my persecutor. My present auditor however,
whose habits of thinking were extremely opposite to
those of Mr. Forester, did not, from the obscurity
which flowed from this reserve, deduce any unfavoura
able conclusion. His penetration was such, as to af-
ford little room for an impostor to hope to mislead
him by a fictitious statement, and he confided in that
penetration. So confiding, the simplicity and inte-
grity of my manner, carried conviction to his mind,
and insured his good opinion and friendship.
- He listened to my story with eagerness, and com-
mented on the several parts as I related them. He
said, that this was only one fresh instance of the ty. $
ranny and perfidiousness, exercised by the powerful
members of the community, against those who were
less privileged than themselves. Nothing could be
more clear, than their readiness to sacrifice the hu-
man species at large, to their meanest interest or
wildest caprice. Who that saw the situation in its
true light, would wait till their oppressors thought fit
to decree their destruction, and not take arms in their
defence while it was yet in their power? Which was
most meritorious, the unresisting and dastardly sub-


CALEB WILLIAMS. 229
mission of a slave, or the enterprise and gal autry of
the man who dared to assert his claims ? Since, hy
the partial administration of our laws, innocence,
when power was armed against it, had nothing better
to hope for than guilt, what man of true courage would
fail to set these laws at defiance, and, if he must
suffer by their injustice, at least take care that he
had first shown his contempt of their yoke? For
himself, he should certainly never have embraced his
present calling, had he not been stimulated to it by
these cogent and irresistible reasons; and he hoped,
as experience had so forcibly brought a conviction of
this sort to my mind, that he should, for the future,
have the happiness to associate me to his pursuits.
It will presently be seen with what event those hopes
were attended.
Numerous were the precautions, exercised by the
gang of thieves with whom I now resided, to elude
the vigilance of the satellites of justice. It was one
of their rules, to commit no depredations, but at a
considerable distance from the place of their resi-
dence; and Gines had transgressed this regulation,
in the attack to which I was indebted for my present
asylum. After having possessed themselves of any
bonty, they took care, in the sight of the persons
whom they had robbed, to pursue a route, as nearly
as possible, opposite to that which led to their true
haunts. The appearance of their place of residence,
together with its environs, was peculiarly desolate
and forlorn, and it had the reputation of being haunt-
ed. The old woman I have described, had long been
its inhabitant, and was commonly supposed to be its
only inhabitant; and her person well accorded with
the rural ideas of a witch. Her lodgers never went
out or came in, but with the utmost circumspection,
and generally by night. The lights which were occa-
sionally seen, from various parts of her habitation,
were, by the country people, regarded with horror as
i supernatural; and, if the noise of revelry at any
time saluted their ears, it was imagined to proceed
from a carnival of devils. With all these advantages,
the thieves did not venture to reside here but hy in.
tervals : they frequently absented themselves for
it, months, and resided in a different part of the coun-
try. The old woman sometimes attended them in
et these transportations, and sometimes remained; hut,
pate in all cases, her removal took place either sooner or
Hh


230
ADVENTUIES OF
later than theirs, so that the nicest observer could
scarcely have traced any connection between her re-
appearances, and the alarms of depredation that were
frequently given ; and the festival of demons seemed,
to the terrific rustics, indifferently to take place whe-
ther she were present or absent.
One day, while I continued in this situation, a cir-
cumstance occurred, which involuntarily attracted my
attention. Two of our people had been sent to å
town at some distance, for the purpose of procuring
is the things of which we were in want. After havi
ing delivered these to our landlady, they retired to
one corner of the room, and, one of them pulling a
printed paper from his pocket, they mutually occa-
pied themselves in examining its contents. I was
sitting in an easy chair by the fire, being considerably
better than I had been, though still in a weak and
languid state. Having read for a considerable time,
they looked at me, and then at the paper, and then
at me again. They then went out of the room toge.
ther, as if to consult without interruption upon some.
thing which that paper suggested to them. Some time
after they retarned, and my protector, who had been
absent upon the former occasion, entered the room at
the same instant.
Captain! said one of them with an air of pleasure,
look here! we have found a prize! I believe it is as
good as a bank-note of a bundred guineas..
Mr. Raymond (that was his name) took the paper
and read. He paused for a moment. He then crush-
ed the paper in his hand; and, turning to the person
from whom he had received it, said, with the tone of
a man confident in the success of his reasons. "
What use have you for these hundred guineas ?
Are you in want ? Are you in distress? Can you be
contented to purchase them at the price of treachery?
of violating the laws of hospitality ?
Faith, captain, I do not very will know. After
having violated other laws, I do not see why we
should be frightened at an old saw. We pretend to
judge for ourselves, and ought to be above shrinking
from a bugbear of a proverb. Beside, this is a good
deed, and I should think no more harm of being the
ruin of such a thief, than of getting my dinner.
A thief! You talk of thieves ! -
Not so fast, captain. God defend that I should
say a word against thieving as a general occupation !


CALEB WILLIAMS.
231
But one man steals in one way, and another in an-
other. For my part, I go upou the highway, and take
from any stranger I meet, what it is a hundred to one
he can very well spare. I see nothing to be found
· fault with in that. But I have as much conscience as
another man. Because I laugh at assizes and great
wigs and the gallows, and because I will not be fright-
ened from an innocent action, when the lawyers say
me nay, does it follow that I am to have a fellow-
feeling for pilferers, and rascally servants, and peo.
ple that have neither justice nor principle ? No: 1
have too much respect for the trade, not to be a foe
- to interlopers, and people that so much the more de-
serve my hatred, because the world calls them by
my name.
You are wrong, Larkins! You certainly ought not
to employ against people that yon hate, supposing
your hatred to be reasonable, the instrumentality of
that law which in your practice you defy. Be consistent.
Either be the friend of law or its adversary. Depend
' upon it that, wherever there are laws at all, there
will be laws against such people as you and me. Ei-
ther therefore we all of us deserve the vengeance of
the law, or law is not the proper instrument for cor-
recting the misdeeds of mankind. I tell you this,
because I would fain have you aware, that an in-
tormer or a king's evidence, a man who takes advan-
tage of the confidence of another in order to betray
him, who sells the life of his neighbour for money, or
coward-like, upon any pretence, calls in the law to
do that for him which he cannot or dares not do for
himself, is the vilest of rascals. But in the present
case, if your reasons were the best in the world, they
do not apply.
While Mr. Raymond was speaking, the rest of the
gang came into the room. He immediately turned to
them and said,
My friends, here is a piece of intelligence that
Larkins has just brought in, which with his leave I
will lay before you.
· Then unfolding the paper he had received, he con.
tinued: This is the description of a felon with the
offer of a hundred guineas for his apprehension. Lar.
kins picked it up at By the time and other
circumstances, but particularly by the minute de-
scription of his person, there can be no doubt hat the
object of it is our young friend, whose liſa I was, a
while ago, the instrument of saving. He is charged


CALEB WILLIAMS.
233
vantage of it for the purpose of earning the hundred
guineas. Are you of that mind, now you have heard
them? Will you, for so paltry a consideration, de-
liver up the lamb into the jaws of the wolf? Will you
abet the purposes of this sanguinary rascal who, not
contented with driving his late dependent from house
and home, depriving him of character and all the
ordinary means of subsistence, and leaving him al-
most without a refuge, still thirsts for his blood ? If
no other person have the courage to set limits to the
tyranny of courts of justice, shall not we? Shall we,
who earn our livelihood by generous daring, be in-
.debted for a penny to the vile artifices of the informer?
Shall we, against whom the whole species is in arms,
refuse our protection to an individual, more exposed
to, but still less deserving of, their persecution than
ourselves ?
The representation of the captain produced an in-
stant effect upon the whole company. They all es-
claimed, Betray him! No, not for worlds! He is
safe. We will protect him at the hazard of our lives.
If fidelity and honour be banished from thieves,
where shall they find refuge upon the face of the
earth ?* Larkins in particular thanked the captain
for his interference, and swore that he would rather
part with his right hand, than injure so worthy a lad,
or assist such an unheard-of villainy. Saying this,
he took me by the hand, and bade me fear nothing
Under their roof. no harm should ever befal me :
and, even if the understrappers of the law should
discover my retreat, they would to a man die in my
defence, sooner than a hair of my head should be
hurt. I thanked him most sincerely for his good
will; but I was principally struck with the fervent
benevolence of my benefactor. I told them, I found
that my enemies were inexorable, and would never
be appeased but with my blood ; and assured them
with the most solemn and earnest veracity, that I
had done nothing to deserve the persecution which
was exercised against me.
The spirit and energy of Mr. Raymond had been
such, as to leave no part for me to pertorm in repel.
ling this onlooked-for danger. Nevertheless, it left
** This seems to be the parody of a celebrated say.
ing of John King of France, who was taken prisoner
by the Black Prince at the battle of Poitiers.


: CALEB WILLIAMS.
235
My wound was by this time completely healed, and
it became absolutely necessary that I should form
sone determination respecting the future. My ha-
bits of thinking, were such as gave me an uncon-
trolable repugnance to the vocation of my hosts. I
did not indeed feel that aversion and abhorrence to
the men, which are commonly entertained. I saw
and respected their good qualities and their virtues.
I was by no means inclined to believe them worse
men, or more inimical in their dispositions to the wel-
fare of their species, than the generality of those that
look down upon them with most censure. But, though
I did not cease to love them as individuals, my eyes
were perfectly open to their mistakes. If I should
otherwise have been in danger of being misled, it
was my fortune to have studied felons in a jail, be-
fore I studied them in their state of comparative
prosperity; and this was an infallible antidute to the
poison. I saw that in this profession were exerted un-
common energy, ingenuity and fortitude, and I could
not help recollecting how admirably beneficial such
qualities might be made in the great theatre of human
affairs; while, in their present direction, they were
thrown away, upon purposes diametrically hostile to
the first interests of human society. Nor were their
proceedings less injurious to their own interest, than
incompatible with the general welfare. The man who
risks or sacrifices his life for the public cause, is re-
warded with the testimony of an approving con-
science; but persons, who wantonly defy the neces-
sary, through atrociously exaggerated precautions of
government in the matter of property, at the same
time that they commit an alarming hostility against
the whole, are, as to their own concerns, scarcely
less absurd and self-neglectful, than the man who
should set himself up as a mark for a file of musque-
teers to shoot at.
Viewing the subject in this light, I not only deter-
mined that I would have no share in their occupation
myself, but thought I could not do less, in return for
the benefits I had received from them, than endea.
voir to dissuade them from an employment, in which
they must themselves be the greatest sufferers. My
* xpostulation met with a various reception. All the
persons to whom it was addressed, had been tolerably
Kiccessful in persuading themselves of the innocence
of their calling; and what remained of doubt in their


ADVENTURES OF
mind," was smothered, and so to speak, laboriously
forgotten. Some of them laughed at my arguments,
as a ridiculous piece of inissionary quixotism. Others,
and particularly our captain, repelled them with the
boldness of a man that knows he has got the strong,
est side. But this sentiment of ease and self-satis-
faction did not long remain. They had been used to
argnments derived from religion and the sacredness
of law. They had long ago shaken these from them,
as so many prejudices. But my view of the subject
appealed to principles which they could not contest,
and had by no means the air of that eustomary re-
proof, which is for ever dinned in our ears without
finding one responsive chord in our hearts. Finding
themselves urged with objections unexpected and co-
gent, some of those to whom I addessed them, began
to grow peevish and impatient of the importunate re-
monstrance. But this was by no means the case with
Mr. Raymond. He was possessed of a candour that
I have seldom seen equalled. He was surprised to
hear objections so powerful, to that which, as a mat-
ter of speculation, he believed he had examined on
all sides. He revolved them with impartiality and
care. He admitted them slowly, but he at length
fully admitted them. He had now but one rejoinder
in reserve.
Alas, Williams, said he, it would have been for-
tunate for me, if these views had been presented to
me, previously to my embracing my present profes-
sion. It is now too late. Those very laws which, by
a perception of their iniquity, drove me to what Í
am, now preclude my return. God, we are told,
judges of men by what they are at the period of judg-
ment, and, whatever be their crimes, if they have
seen and abjured the folly of those crimes, receives
them to favoar. But the institutions of countries that
profess_to worship this God, admit no such distinc-
tions. They leave no room for amendment, and seem
to have a brutal delight in confounding the demerits
of offenders. It signifies not what is the character
of the individual at the hour of trial. How changed,
how spotless, and how useful, avails him nothing.
If they discover, at the distance of fourteen,* or
of forty years, † an action for which the law ordains
- Eugene Aram, See Annual Register for 1759.
† William Andrew Herne, Ditto, ditto.


CALEB WILLIAMS. 237
that his life shall be the forfeit, though the interval
should have been spent with the purity of a saint and
the devotedness of a patriot, they disdain to enquire
into it. What then can I do? Am I not compelled
to go on in folly, having once begun?
I was extremely affected by this plea. I could
only answer, that Mr. Raymond must himself be the
best judge of the course it became him to hold ; I
trusted the case was not so desperate as he imagined.
This subject was pursued no further, and was in
some degree driven from my thoughts, by an incident
oh a very extraordinary nature.
I have already mentioned the animosity that was
entertained against me, by the infernal portress of
this solitary mansion. Gines, the expelled member
of the gang, had been her particular favorite. She
submitted to his exile indeed, because her genius felt
subdued by the energy and inherent greatness of Mr.
Raymond, but she submitted with murmuring and
discontent. Not daring to resent the conduct of the
principal in this affair, she collected all the bitterness
of her spirit against me.
To the unpardonable offence I had thus committed
in the first instance, were added the reasonings I
had lately offered against the profession of robbery:
Robbery was a fundamental article in the creed of
this boary veteran, and she listened to my objections
with the same unaffected astonishment and horror,
that an old woman of other habits would listen to one,
who objected to the agonies and dissolution of the
creator of the world, or to the garment of imputed
righteousness prepared to envelop the souls of the
elect. Like the religious bigot, she was sufficiently
disposed to avenge a hostility against her opinions
with the weapons of sublunary warfare.
Meanwhile I had smiled at the impotence of her
malice, as an object of contempt, rather than alarm.
She perceived, as I imagine, the slight estimation in
which I held her, and this did not a little increase
the perturbation of her thoughts.
One day I was left alone, with no other person in
the house than this swarthy sybil. The thieves had
set out upon an expedition, about two hours after sun-
set on the preceding evening, and had not returned,
as they were accustomed to do, before day-break the
next morning. This was a circumstance that some-
times occurred, and therefore did not produce any


238
ADVENTURES. OB
extraordinary alarm. At one time the scent of prey
would lead them beyond the bourds they had pre
scribed themselves, and at another the fear of pur-
suit; the life of a thief is always uncertain. The old
woman had been preparing during the night, for the
meal to which they would expect to sit down, as soon
as might be after their return.
For myself I had learned from their habits, to be
indifferent to the regular return of the different parts
of the day, and in some degree to turn day into night
and night into day. I had been now several weeks
in this residence, and the season was considerably
advanced. I had passed some hours during the night
in ruminating on my situation. The character and
manners of the men among whom I lived, were dis-
gusting to me. Their brutal ignorance, their ferocious
habits, and their coarse behaviour, instead of becom-
ing more tolerable by custom, hourly added force to
my original aversion. The uncommon vigour of their
minds, and acuteness of their invention, in the busi-
ness they pursued, compared with the odiousness of
that business and their habitual depravity, awaked
in me sensations too painful to be endured. Moral
disapprobation, at least in a mind unsubdued by phi-
losophy, I found to be one of the most fertile sources
of disquiet and uneasiness. From this pain the so-
ciety of Mr. Raymond by no means relieved me.
He was indeed eminently superior to the vices of the
rest; but I did not less exquisitely feel how much
he was out of his place, how disproportionably asso-
ciated, or how contemptibly employed. I had attempt.
ed to counteract the errors under which he and his
companions laboured; but I had found the obstacles
that presented themselves, greater than I had ima-
gined.
What was I to do? Was I to wait the issue of
this my missionary undertaking, or was I to withdraw
myself immediately? When I withdrew, ought that
to be done privately, or with an open-avowal of my
design, and an endeavour to supply by the force of
example what was deficient in my arguments? It was
certainly improper, as I declined all participation in
the pursuits of these men, did not pay my contribu-
tion of hazard to the means by which they subsisted;
and had no congeniality with their habits, that I
should continue to reside with them longer than was
absolutely necessary. There was one circumstance





London, Published Sept! 4, 1824. by S Fisher

ELEASE
SARRER
R
W Hopwood, sier
I. C. Beyroidis, seule
Fatigued with meditation, Caleb threw himself upon
the bed and fell asleep, while the steps of the
Murderer cautiously approached.
Page 239


CALEB WILLIAMS.
239
.. I
nino
-
---
ings. He came up to the corner where i was prw-


CALEB WILLIAMS.
239
that rendered this deliberation particularly pressing
They intended in a few days removing from their pre-
sent habitation, to a haunt to which they were ac-
customed, in a distant county. If I did not propose
to continue with them, it would perhaps be wrong to
accompany them in this removal. The state of ca-
lamity to which my inexorable persecutor had re-
duced me, had made the encounter even of a den of
robbers a fortunate adventure. But the time that
had since elapsed, had probably been sufficient to re.
lax the keenness of the quest that was made after
me. I sighed for that solitude and obscurity, that re-
treat from the vexations of the world and the voice
even of common fame, which I had proposed to my-
self when I broke my prison. .
Such were the meditations which now occupied my
mind. At length I grew fatigued with continued
contemplation, and to relieve myself pulled oat a
pocket Horace, the legacy of my beloved Brightwel!
I read with avidity the epistle in which he so beaa.
tifully describes to Fuscus, the grammarian, the plea-
sures of rural tranquillity and independence. By this
time the sun rose from behind the eastern hills, and
I opened my casement to contemplate it. The day
commenced with peculiar brilliancy, and was accoin-
panied with all those charms, which the poets of na-
ture, as they have been styled, have so much delight-
ed to describe. There was something in this scene,
particularly as succeeding to the active exertions of
intellect, that soothed the mind to composure. In-
sensibly a confused reverie invaded my facalties. I
withdrew from the window, threw myself upon the
bed, and fell asleep.
I do not recollect the precise images which in this
situation passed through my thoughts, but I know that
they concluded with the idea of some person, the
agent of-Mr. Falkland, approaching to assassinate mé.
This thonght had probably been suggested. hv thre
project I meditated of entering once again into the
world, and throwing myself within the sphere of his
possible vengeance. I imagined that the design of
the murderer was to come upon me by surprise, that
I was aware of his design, and yet by some fascina.
tion had no thought of evading it. I heard the steps
of the murderer as he cantiously approached. I
seemed to listen to his constrained, yet audible breath.
inge. He came up to the corner where I was plac-


(140
ADVENTURES OF
ed, and then stopped. The idea became too terrible,
I started, opened my eyes, and beheld the execrable
.bag before mentioned, standing over me with a hut-
cher's cleaver. I shifted my situation with a speed
that seemed too swift for volition, and the blow al- !
ready aimed at my skull, sunk impotent upon the bed.
Before she could wholly recover her posture. I sprung
upon her, seized hold of the weapon, and had nearly
wrested it from her. But in a moment she resumed
her strength and her desperate purpose, and we had
a furious struggle, she impelled by inveterate malice,
and I resisting for my life. Her vigour was truly
Amazonian, and at no time had I ever occasion to
contend with a more formidable opponent. Her
glance was sudden and exact, and the shock with
which from time to time she impelled, her whole
frame, inconceivably vehement. “At length I was
victorious, took from her the instrument of death, and
threw her upon the ground. Till now the studiedness
of her exertions had curbed her rage; but now she
gnashed with her teeth, her eyes seemed as if start-
ing from their sockets, and her body heaved with un-
controlable insanity.
Rascal ! devil! 'she exclaimed, what do you mean
to do to me?
. Till now the scene had passed uninterrupted by a
single word.
Nothing, I replied: begone, infernal witch! and
leave me to myself.
Leave you ! No: I will thrast my fingers throngh
your ribs, and drink your blood !-Yeu conquer me?
-Ha, ha !-Yes, yes ! you shall !-I will sit upon
yon, and press you to hell! I will roast you with
brimstone, and dash your entrails into your eyes !
Ha, ha !-ha!
Saying this, she sprung up, and prepared to attack
me with redoubled fury. I siezed her hands, and
compelled her to sit upon the bed. Thus restrained,
she continued to express the tumult of her thoughts
hy grinning, by certain furious motions of her head,
and by occasional vehement efforts to disengage her-
self from my grasp. These contortions and starts
were of the nature of those fits, in which the patients
are commonly supposed to need three or four persons
to hold them. But I found by experience that, un-
der the circumstances in which I was placed, my sin-
gle strength was sufficient. The spectacle of her


CALEB WILLIAMS
241
emotions was inconceivably frightful. Her violence
at length however began to abate, and she became
persuaded of the hopelessness of the contest.
Let me go! said she.. Why do you hold me? I
will not be held!
I wanted yon gone from the first, replied I. · Are
you contented to go now?
Yes, I tell you, misbegotten villain! Yes, rascal !
I immediately loosed my hold. She flew to the
door, and, holding it in her hand, said, I will be the
death of you yet: you shall not be your own man
twenty-four hours longer! With these words she
. shut the door, and locked it upon me. An action so
totally unexpected startled me. Whither was she
gone? What was it she intended ? To perish by the
machinations of such a hag as this, was a thought
not to be endured. Death in any form, brought upon
us by surprise, and for which the mind has had no
time to prepare, is inexpressibly terrible. My thoughts
wandered in breathless horror and confusion, and all
within was uproar. I endeavoured to break the door
but in vain. I went round the room in search of some
tool to assist me. At length I rushed against it with
a desperate effort, to which it yielded, and had nearly
thrown me from the top of the stairs to the bottom.
I descended with all possible caution and vigilance.
I entered the room which served us for a kitchen,
but it was deserted. I searched every other apart-
ment in vain. I went out among the ruins; still I
discovered nothing of my late assailant. It was extra-
ordinary: what could be become of her ? What was
I to conclude from ber disappearance? I reflected on
her parting menace. “I should not be my own man
twenty-four hours longer.” It was mysterious ! it
did not seem to be the menace of assassination.
Suddenly the recollection of the handbill brought
to us by Larkins, rushed upon my inemory. Was it
possible she alluded to that in her parting words ?
Would she set out upon such an expedition by her-
self? Was it not dangerous to the whole fraternity,
if, without the smallest precaution, she should bring
the officers of justice into the midst of them? It was
perhaps improbable she would engage in an under-
taking thus desperate. It was not however easy to
answer for the conduct of a person in her state of
mind. Should I wait, and risk the preservation of my
liberty upon the issue ?


242 ADVENTURES OF
To this question I returned an immediate negative
I had resolved in a short time to quit my present situa- }'
tion, and the difference of a little sooner or a little
later, could not be very material. It promised to be
neither agreeable nor prudent for me to remain under
the same roof, with a person who had manifested
such a fierce and inexpiable hostility. But the con-
sideration which had inexpressibly the most weight
with me, belonged to the ideas of imprisonment, trial
and death. The longer they had formed the subject
of my contemplation, the more forcibly was I impel-
led to avoid them. I had entered upon a system of
action for that purpose ; I had already made many
sacrifices; and I believed that I would never mis-
carry in this project through any neglect of mine.
The thought of what was reserved for me by my per-
secutors sickened my very soul; and the more inti-
mately I was acquainted with oppression and injus-
tice, the more deeply was I penetrated with the ab-
horrence to which they are entitled.
Such were the reasons that determined me, instant-
ly, abruptly, without leave-taking, or acknowledg-
ment for the peculiar and repeated favours i had re-
ceived, to quit a habitation to which, for six weeks,
I had apparently been indebted for protection, from
trial, conviction, and an ignominious death. I had
come hither pennyless ; I quitted my abode with the
sum of a few guineas in my possession, Mr. Ray-
mond having insisted upon my taking a share, at the
time that each man received his dividend from the
common stock. Though I had reason to suppose that the
heat of the pursuit against me would be somewhat
remitted by the time that had elapsed, the magnitude
of the mischief that, in an unfavourable event, might
fall on me, determined me to neglect no imaginable
precaution. I recollected the hand-bill which was
the source of my present alarm, and conceived that
one of the principal dangers which threatened me,
was the recognition of my person, either by such as
had previously known me, or even by strangers. It
seemed prudent therefore to disguise it as effectually
as I could. For this purpose I had recourse to a
parcel of tattered garments, that lay in a neglected
corner of our habitation. The disguise I chose was that
of a beggar. Upon this plan I threw off my shirt.. I
tied a hankerchief about my head, with which I took
care to cover one of my eyes. Over this I drew a


CALEB WILLIAMS. 243
pe piece of an old woollen night-cap. I selected the
sy worst apparel I could find, and this I reduced to a
still more deplorable condition, by rents that I pur-
Har posely made in various places. Thus equipped, I
surveyed myself in a looking-glass. I had rendered
my appearance complete, nor would any one have
suspected that I was not one of the fraternity to which
I assumed to belong. I said, this is the form in
which tyranny and injustice oblige me to seek for re-
fuge ; but better, a thousand times better is it, thus
to incur contempt with the dregs of mankind, than
trust to the tender mercies of our superiors !
The only rule that I laid down to myself in travers-
ing the forest, was to take a direction, as opposite as
possible to that which led to the scene ofimy late im-
prisonment. After about two hours walking, I arriva
ed at the termination of this rider scene, and reach-
ed that part of the comty which is inclosed and cul-
tivated.' Here I sat down by the side of a brook, and
pulling out a crust of bread which I had brought away
with me, rested and refreshed myself. While I con-
tinued in this place, I began to ruminate upon the
plan I should lay down for my future proceedings;
and my propensity now led me, as it had done in a
former instance, to fix upon the capital, which I be-
lieved, beside its other recommendations, would prove
the safest place for concealment. During these
thoughts I saw a couple of peasants passing at a small
distance, and enquired of them respecting the Lon-
don road. By their description I understood, that
the most immediate way would be to repass a part of
the forest, and that it would be necessary to approach
considerably nearer to the county-town, than I was
at the spot which I had at present reached. I did
pot imagine that this could be a circunstance of con.
siderable importance. My disguise appeared to be
Y a sufficient security against momentary danger; and
I therefore took a path, though not the most direct
one, which led towards the point they suggested.
Some of the occurrences of the day are deserving
to be mentioned. As I passed along a road which
Jay in my way for a few miles, I saw a carriage ad-
vancing in the opposite direction. I debated with
myself for a moment, whether I shonld pass it with-
out notice, or should take this occasion, by voice or
gesture, of making an essay of my trade. This idle
disquisition was however speedily driven from my
156***
24


244
ADVENTURES OF
mind, when I perceived that the carriage was Mr. :)
Falkland's. The suddenness of the encounter struck
me with terror, though perhaps it would have been
difficult for calm reflection to have discovered any
considerable danger. I withdrew from the road, and
skulked behind a hedge, till it should have complete-
ly gone by. I was too much occupied with my own
feelings, to venture to examine whether or no the ter-' |
rible adversary of my peace were in the carriage. I
persuaded myself that he was. I looked after the
equipage, and exclaimed, There you may see the lux-
urious accommodations and appendages of guilt, and
here the forlornness that waits upon innocence -I
* was to blame to imagine that my case was singular in
that respect. I only mention it, to show how the
most trivial circumstance contributes to embitter the
cup to the man of adversity. The thought however
was a transient one. I had learned this lesson from
my sufferings, not to indulge in the luxury of discon-
tent. As my mind recovered its tranquillity, I began
to enquire whether the phenomenon I had just seen
could have any relation to myself. But thongh my
mind was extremely inquisitive and versatile in this
respect, I could discover no sufficient ground upon
whinh to build a judgment.
At night I entered a little public-house at the ex-
tremity of a village, and, seating myself in a corner of
the kitchen, asked for some bread and cheese. While
I was sitting at my repast, three or four labourers
came in for a little refreshment after their work.
Ideas respecting the inequality of rank, pervade every
order in society; and, as my appearance was meaner
and more contemptible than theirs, I found it expe-
dient to give way to these gentry of a village ale-
house, and remove to an obscurer station. I was sur-
prised, and not a little startled, to find them fall al-
most immediately into conversation about my history,
whom, with a slight variation ef circumstances, they
styled the notorious housebreaker, Kit Williams.
Damn the fellow, said one of them, one never hears
of any thing else. O’my life, I think he makes talk
for the whole county.
That is very true, replied another. I was at the
market-town to-day to sell some oats for my master,
and there was a hue and cry, some of them thought
they had got him, but it was a false alarm.
That handred guineas is a fine thing, rejoined the


CALEB WILLIAMS.
247
racteristics by which my person might best be dis-
tinguished. They said, they had good reason to be-
heve that I had been seen at a place in that county
the very day before. While they were speaking, a
third person who had fallen behind, came up; and
my alarm was greatly increased, upon seeing that this
person was the servant of Mr. Forester, who had
visited me in prison about a fortnight before my es-
oape. My best resource in this crisis was composure
and apparent indifference. It was fortunate for me
that my disguise was so complete, that the eye of
Mr. Falkland itself could scarcely have penetrated
it. I had been aware for some time before, that this
was a refuge which events might make necessary,
and had endeavoured to arrange and methodise my
ideas upon the subject. From my youth I had pos,
sessed a considerable facility in the art of imitation ;
and, when I quitted my retreat in the habitation of
Mr. Raymond, I adopted, along with my beggar's
attire, a peculiar slouching and clownish gait, to be
used whenever there should appear the least chance
of my being observed, together with an Irish brogue
which I had had an opportunity of studying in my
prison. Such are the miserable expedients and so
great the studied artifice, which man, who never de-
serves the name of manhood, but in proportion as he
is erect and independent, may find it necessary to
employ, for the purpose of eluding the inexorabla
animosity and unfeeling tyranny of his fellow man!
r had made use of this brogue, though I have not
thought it necessary to write it down in my narrative,
in the conversation of the village ale-house. Mr.
Forester's servant, as he came up, observed that his
companions were engaged in conversation with me;
and, guessing at the subject, asked whether they had
gained any intelligence. He added to the informa-
tion at which they had already hinted, that a resolu
tion was taken to spare neither diligence nor expence
for my discovery and apprehension, and that they
were satisfied, if I were above ground and in the
kingdom, it would be impossible for me to escape
them.
Every new incident that had occurred to me, tend-
ed to impress upon my mind the extreme danger to
which I was exposed. I could almost have imagined
that I was the sole suhject of general attention, and
that the whole world was in arms to exterminate me.


248
ADVENTURES OF
The very idea tingled through every fibre of my
frame. But terrible as it appeared to my imagina-
tion, it did but give new energy to my purpose; and
I determined that I would not voluntarily resign the
field, that is, properly speaking, my neck to the cord
of the executioner, notwithstanding the greatest supo-
riority in my assailants. But the incidents which had
befallen me, though they did not change my purpose,
induced me to examine over again the means by
which it might be effected. The consequence of this
revisal was, to determine me to bend my course to
the nearest sea-port on the west side of the island,
and transport myself to Ireland. I cannot now teli
what it was, that inclined me to prefer this scheme
to that which I had originally formed. Perhaps the
latter, which had been for some time present to my
imagination, for that reason appeared the more obvi-
ous of the two; and I found an appearance of com-
plexity, which the mind did not stay to explain, in
substituting the other in its stead.
I arrived without further impediment at the place
from which I intended to sail, enquired for a vessel,
which I found ready to put to sea in a few hours, and
agreed with the captain for my passage. Ireland had
to me the disadvantage of being a dependancy of the
British government, and therefore a place of less se-
curity, than most other countries which are divided
from it by the ocean. To judge from the diligence
with which I seemed to be pursued in England, it
was not improbable that the zeal of my persecutors
might follow me to the other side of the channel. It
was however sufficiently agreeable to my mind, that
I was upon the point of being removed one step fur-
ther, from the danger which was so grievous to my
imagination.
- Cound there be any peril in the short interval that
was to elapse, before the vessel was to weigh anchor,
and quit the English shore ? Probably not. A very
short time had intervened, between my determina-
tion for the sea, and my arrival at this place; and, if
any new alarm had been given to my persecutors, it
proceeded from the old woman a very few days be-
fore. I hoped I had anticipated their diligence.
Meanwhile, that I might neglect no reasonable pre-
caution, I went instantly on board, resolved that I
would not unnecessarily, by walking the streets of
the town, expose myself to any untoward accident.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
249
This was the first time I had upon any occasion taken
I leave of my native country.
I The time was now nearly elapsed that was pre-
I 'scribed for our stay, and orders for weighing anchor
were every moment expected, when we were hailed
Į by a boat from the shore, with two other men in it
I beside those that rowed. They entered our vessel in
"an instant. They were officers of justice. The pas-
sengers, five persons beside myself, were ordered
upon deck for examination. I was inexpressibly
disturbed at the occurrence of such a circumstance in
so unseasonable a moment. I took it for granted that
it was of me that they were in search. Was it pos-
sible that, by any unaccountable accident, they should
have got an intiraation of my disguise ? It was infi-
nitely more distressing to encounter them upon this
parrow stage and under these pointed circumstances,
than, as I had before encountered my pursuers, un-
der the appearance of an indifferent person. My re-
collection however did not forsake me. I confided
in my conscious disguise and my Irish brogue, as a
rock of dependence against all accidents. in
: No sooner did we appear upon deck than, to my
great consternation, I could observe the attention of
our guests principally turned npon me. They asked
a few frivolous questions of such of my fellow passen-
gers as happened to be nearest to them: and then,
turning to me, enquired my name, who I was, whence
I came, and what had brought me there? I had
scarcely opened my mouth to reply, when with one
consent they laid hold of me, said I was their prisoner,
and declared that my accent, together with the cor-
respondence of my person, would be sufficient to con-
vict me before any court in England. I was hurried
out of the vessel into the boat in which they came,
and seated between them, as if by way of precaution,
lest I should spring overboard, and by any means es-
cape them.
, I now took it for granted, that I was once more in
the power of Mr. Falkland; and the idea was in-
supportably mortifying and oppressive to my imagina-
tion. Escape from his pursuit, freedom from his ty.
ranny, were objects upon which my whole soul was
bent: conld no human-ingenuity and exertion effect
them? Did his power reach through all space, and
bis eye penetrate every concealment? Was he like
that mysterious being, to protect us from whose fierce


CALEB WILLIAMS.
251
ake, took an oppressive load from my mind. I be-
ieved that I should immediately be able to establish
ny innocence, to the satisfaction of any magistrate in
he kingdom ; and, though crossed in my plans, and
lem hwarted in my design of quitting the island even after
of was already at sea, this was but a trifling inconveni-
blance, compared with what I had but too much rea-
son to fear.
alan As soon as we came, ashore, I was conducted to
eep the house of a justice of peace, a man who had for-
merly been the captain of a collier, but who, having
ett been successful in the world, had quitted this wan-
ani dering life, and for some years had had the honour to.
121, represent his majesty's person. We were detained
32 for some time in a sort of anti-room, waiting his re-
verence's leisure. The persons by whom I had been
e taken up, were experienced in their trade, and in-
ty sisted upon employing this interval in searching me,
no in presence of two of his worship’s servants. They
Frey found upon me fifteen guineas and some silver. They
$ required me to strip myself perfectly naked, that they
might examine whether I had bank-notes concealed
v any where about my person. They took up the des
tached parcels of my miserable attire as I threw it
from me, and felt them ove by one, to discover whe.
ther the articles of which they were in search, might
by any device be sewn up in them. To all this I sub-
mitted without murmuring. It might probably come
to the same thing at last, and summary justice was
sufficiently coincident with my views, my principal
object being to get, as soon as possible, out of the
clutches of the respectable persons who no had me in
custody.
This operation was scarcely completed, before, we
were directed to he ushered into his worship’s apart-
ment. My accusers opened the charge, and told him
they had been ordered to this town, upon an intima.
tion that one of the persons who robbed the Edin
burg mail was to he found here ; and that they had
taken me on board a vessel which was by this time
under sail for Ireland. Well, says his worship, that
is your story; now let us hear what account the gen-
tleman gives of himself. What is your name, ha,
sirrah ? and from what part of Tipperary are you
pleased to come? I had already taken my determin-
ation upon this article; and, the moment I learned
the particulars of the charge against me, resolved, for
.


CALEB WILLIAMS
253
WA
a gentleman. In fine, for what purpose could a poor
beggar, who had never been in Ireland in bis life,
my want to transport himself to that country? It was
theid as clear as the sun, that I was no better than I should
they be. This reasoning, together with some significant
pred winks and gestures between the justice and the plain-
dhe tiffs, brought him over to their way of thinking. He
pat said, I must go to Warwick, where it seems the
vocant other robber was at present in custody, and be con-
FH fronted with him ; and, if then every thing appeared
fair and satisfactory, I should be discharged.
No intelligence could be more terrible, than that
which was contained in these words. That I, who
had found the whole country in arms against me, who
by was exposed to a pnrsuit so peculiarly vigilant and
IH penetrating, should now be dragged to the very cen-
Popis tre of the kingdom, without power of accommodating
myself to circumstances, and under the immediate
custody of the officers of justice, seemed to my ears
almost the same thing, as if he had pronounced upon
me a sentence of death! I strenuously urged the in-
jastice of this proceeding. I observed to the magis.
trate, that it was impossible I should be the person
at whom the description pointed. It required an
Irishman; I was no Irishman. It described a person
shorter than I; a circumstance of all others the least
canable of heing connterfeited. “There was not the
slightest reason for detaining me in custody. I had
been already disappointed of my voyage, and lost the
money I had paid down, through the officiousness of
these gentlemen in apprehending me." I assured his
worship, that every delay under my circumstances
was of the utmost importance to me. It was impos-
sible to devise a greater injury to be inflicted on me,
than the proposal that, instead of being permitted to
proceed apon iny voyage, I should be sent under ar-
rest into the heart of the kingdom.
My remonstrances were vain. The justice was by
no means inclined to digest the being exportalated
14 with in this manner, by a person in the habilliments
of a beggar. In the midst of my address he would
have silenced me for my impertinence, but that I
spoke with an earnestness with which he was wholly
unable to contend. When I had finished, he told
me it was all to no purpose, and that it might have
EAS! been better for me, if I had shown myself less inso-
om lent, “ It was clear that I was a vagabond and a sus-
3
Bad


236
ADVENTURES OF
not pass opheeded by me. They were strikingly ap-
plicable to my situation, and I was determined not to
safier the occasion to escape me unimproved.
The pride of these gentlemen however was too
great, to admit of further parley for the present.
They left me abruptly; having first ordered an old
man, the father of the landlady, to stay in the room
with me while they were absent. The old man they
ordered, for security, to lock the door, and put the
key in his pocket: at the same time mentioning below
stairs the station in which they had left me, that the
people of the house might have an eye upon what
went forward, and not suffer me to escape. What
was the intention of this manoeuvre I am unable cer-
tainly to pronounce. Probably it was a sort of com-
promise between their pride and their avarice, being
desirous, for some reason or other, to drop me as soon
as convenient, and therefore determining to wait the
result of my private meditations on the proposal they
had made.
They were no sooner withdrawn, than I cast my
eye upon the old man, and found something extreme.
ly venerable and interesting in his appearance. His
form was above the middle size. It indicated that
his strength had been once considerable ; nor was it
at this time by any means annihilated. His hair was
in considerable quantity, and was as white as the
drifted snow. His complexion was healthy and rud.
dy, at the same time that his face was furrowed with
wrinkles. In his eye there was remarkable vivacity,
and his whole countenance was strongly expressive
of good nature. The boorishness of his rank in
society, was lost, in the cultivation his mind had de-
rived from habits of sensibility and benevolence.
The view of his figure immediately introduced a
train of ideas into my mind, respecting the advantage
to be drawn from the presence of such a person. The
attempt to take any step withont his consent was
hopeless, for, thongh I should succeed with regard to
him, he could easily give the alarm to other persons,
who would, no doubt, be within call. Add to which,
I could scarcely have prevailed on myself to offer
any offence, to a person whose first appearance so
strongly engaged my affection and esteem. In reality
my thoughts were turned into a different channel. I
was impressed with an ardent wish, to be able to call
this man my benefactor. Pursued by a train of ill


CALEB WILLIAMS.
257
A
fortune, I could no longer consider myself as a mem-
ber of society. I was a solitary being, cut off from
the expectation of sympathy, kindness, and the good-
will of mankind. “I was strongly impelled, by the
situation in which the present moment placed me, to
indulge in a luxury, which my destiny seemed to have
denied. I could not conceive the smallest compari-
son, between the idea of deriving my liberty from the
spontaneous kindness of a worthy and excellent mind,
and that of being indebted for it to the selfishness and
baseness of the worst members of society. It was
thus that I allowed myself in the wantonness of re-
finement, even in the midst of destruction.
Guided by these sentiments, I requested his atten-
tion, to the circumstances by which I had been
brought into my present situation. He immediately
signified his assent, and said he would cheerfully lis-
ten to any thing I thought proper to communicate. I
told him the persons who had just left me in charge
with him, had come to this town for the purpose of
apprehending some person who had been guilty of
robbing the mail; that they had chosen to take me ap
under this warrant, and had conducted me before a
justice of the peace; that they had soon detected
their mistake, the person in question being an Irish-
man, and differing from me both in country and sta-
ture; but that by collusion between them and the jus-
tice, they were permitted to retain me in custody,
and pretended to undertake to conduct me to War.
wick to confront me with my accomplice ; that in
searching me at the justice's they had found a sum of
money in my possession which excited their cnpidity,
and that they had just been proposing to me to give
me my liberty, upon condition of my surrendering this
sum into their hands. Under these circumstances,
I requested him to consider, whether he would wish
to render himself the instrument of their extortion. I
put myself into his hands, and solemnly averred the
truth of the facts I had just stated. If he would as-
sist me in my escape, it could have no other effect,
than to disappoint the base passions of my conduc-
tors. I would, upon no account, expose him to any
real inconvenience; but I was well assured that the
same generosity that should prompt him to a good
deed, would enable him effectually to vindicate it,
when done; and that those who detained me, when
they had lost sight of their prev, would feel covered


CALEB WILLIAMS.
259
I No! no! no! he would upon no consideration ad-
mit, that his ears should suffer such contamination.
This case and the other were very different. There
was no criminal upon the face of the earth, no mur-
derer, half so detestable, as the person who could
prevail upon himself to utter the charges I had done,
by way of recrimination, against so generous a mag-
ter.-The old man was in a perfect agony with the
recollection.
At length he calmed himself enough to say, he
should never cease to grieve, that he had held a mom
ment's parley with me. He did not know what was
the conduct severe justice required of him; but, since
he had come into the knowledge of who I was, only
by my own confession, it was irreconcilably repuge
nant to his feelings, to make use of that knowledge
to my injury. Here therefore all relation between
us ceased; as indeed it would be an abuse of words,
to consider me in the light of a human creature. He
would do me no mischief; but, on the other hand,
he would not, for the world, be in any way assisting
and abetting me.
• I was inexpressibly affected at the abhorrence this
good and benevolent creature expressed against me.
I could not be silent; I endeavoured once and again
to prevail upon him to hear me. But his determina-
tion was unalterable. Onr contest lasted for some
time, and he at length terminated it by ringing the
bell, and calling up the waiter. A very little while
after, my conductors entered, and the other persons
withdrew.
It was a part of the singularity of my fate, that it
hurried me from one species of anxiety and distress
to another, too rapidly to suffer any one of them to
sink deeply into my mind. I am apt to believe in the
retrospect, that half the calamities I was destined
to endure, would infallibly have overwhelmed and
destroyed me. But, as it was, I had no leisure to
chew the cud upon misfortunes as they'rfel inº, bit
was under the necessity of forgetting them, to gnard
against peril that the next moment seemed ready to
crush me.
The behaviour of this incomparable and amiable
old man, cut me to the heart. It was a dreadful
prognostic for all my future life. But, as I have just
observed, my conductors entered, and another sub-
ject called imperiously upon my attention. I could


CALEB WILLIAMS.
251
Thai
Little this place, occurred in an attempt to cross the Severn
in a particular point. The mode was by a ferry; but
Ben by some strange inadvertence I lost my way so com-
pe pletely, as to be wholly unable, that night, to reach
in the ferry, and arrive at the town which I had des-
tined for my repose.
learning - This may seem a petty disappointment, in the
ad midst of the overwhelming considerations, that might
have been expected to engross every thought of my
mind. Yet it was borne by me with singular impa-
tience. I was that day uncommonly fatigued. Pre-
viously to the time that I mistook, or at least was
aware of the mistake of the road, the sky had be-
come black and lowering, and soon after the clouds
burst down in sheets of rain. I was in the midst of
a heath, without a tree or covering of any sort to
shelter me. I was thoroughly drenched in a moment.
I pushed on with a sort of sullen determination. By
7 and by the rain gavę place to a storm of hail. The
fi hail-stones were large and frequent. I was ill de-
the fended by the miserable covering I wore, and they
seemed to cut me in a thousand directions. The hail-
sad storm subsided, and was again succeeded by a heavy
vel rain. By this time it was, that I had perceived I
te was wholly out of my road. I could discover neither
asi man, nor beast, nor habitation of any kind. I walked
586 on, measuring at every turn the path it would be pro-
The per to pursue, but in no instance finding a sufficient
od reason to reject one or prefer another. My mind was
las bursting with depression and anguish. I muttered
of imprecations and murmuring, as I passed along. I
was full of loathing and abhorrence of life, and
all that life carries in its train. After wandering
without any certain direction for two hours, I was
overtaken by the night. The scene was nearly
pathless, and it was vain to think of proceeding any
further.
Here I was, without comfort, without shelter, and
without food. There was not a particle of my cover,
ing, that was not as wet, as if it had been fished
hot from the bottom of the ocean. My teeth chattered.
as I trembled in every limb. My heart burned with.
universal fury. At one moment I stumbled and fell
over some unseen obstacle. At another I was turned
wyback by an impediment I could not overcome.
here. There was no strict connection between these ca-
i sual inconveniences, and the persecution under
Mm


264
ADVENTURES OF
the reverse ! It was my first and immediate business
to review all the projects of disguise 1 had hitherta
conceived, to derive every improvement I could in-
vent from the practice to which I had been subjected,
and to manufacture a veil of concealment more jun-
penetrable than ever. This was an effort to which I
could see no end. In ordinary cases the hne and cry
after a supposed offender is a matter of temporary
operation; but ordinary cases formed no standard
for the colossal intelligence of Mr. Falkland. For
the same reason, London, which appears an iner-
haustible reservoir of concealment to the majority of
mankind, brought no such consolatory sentiment to
my mind. Whether life were worth accepting on
such terms I cannot pronounce. S only know that I
persisted in this exertion of my faculties, through a
sort of parental love that men are accustomed to en.
tertain for their intellectual offspring; the more thonght
I had expended in rearing it to its present perfection,
the less did I find myself disposed to abandon it
Another motive, not less strenuously exciting me to
perseverance, was the ever-growing repugnance I
felt to injustice and arbitrary power:
The first evening of my arrival in town, I slept at
an obscure inn in the Borough of Southwark, choos-
ing that side of the metropolis, on account of its lya
ing entirely wide of the part of England from which
I came. I entered the inn in the evening in my coun-
tryman's frock; and having paid for my lodging be-
fore I went to bed, equipped myself next morning as
differently as my wardrobe would allow, and left the
house before day. The frock I made up into a small
packet; and, having carried it to a distance as great
as I thought necessary, I dropped it in the corner o
an alley through which I passed. My next care wa
to furnish myself with another suit of apparel, totall:
different from any to which I had hitherto had re
course. The exterior which I was now induced to
assume was that of a Jew. One of the gang of thieve
upon
forest, had been of that race; and
by the talent of mimicry, which I have already sta
ted myself to possess, I could copy their pronuncia
tion of the English language, sufficiently to answer
ench occasions as were likely to present themselves.
One of the preliminaries I adopted, was to repair tu
a quarter of the town in which great numbers of this
people reside, and study their complexion and cour


268 : ADVENTURES OF
prodactions. Excluded as I was from all intercourse
with my species in general, I found pleasure in the
occasional exchange of a few words, with this inof
tensive and good-hamoured creature. who was al.
ready of an age to preclude scandal. She lived upon
'a very small annuity, allowed her by a distant rela.
tion, a woman of quality, who, possessed of thou.
sands herself, had no other anxiety with respect to
this person, than that she should not contaminate her
alliance by the exertion of honest industry. This
humble creature was of a uniformly chearful and ac
tive disposition, unacquainted alike with the cares o
wealth, and the pressure of misfortune. Though he
pretensions were small, and her information slender
she was' by no means deficient in penetration. Sh
remarked the faults and follies of mankind with n
conteinptible discernment; but her temper was of s
mild and forgiving a cast, as would have induced
most persons to believe, that she perceived nothin
of the matter. Her heart overflowed with the milk
of kindness. She was sincere and ardent in her at
tachments, and never did she omit a service, which she
perceived herself able to render, to a human being.
Had it not been for these qualifications of temper
I should probably have found that my appearance
that of a deserted, solitary lad of Jewish extraction.
effectually precluded my demands upon her kindness
But I speedily perceived, from her manner of receiv.
ing and returning civilities of an indifferent sort, that
her heart was too noble, to have its effusions checke
by any base and unworthy considerations. Encon
raged by these preliminaries, I determined to select
her as my agent. I found her willing and alert in th-
business I proposed to her. That I might anticipate
occasions of suspicion, I frankly told her that, for
reasons which I wished to be excused from relating,
but which, if related, I was sure would not deprive
me of her good opinion, I found it necessary, for the
present, to keep myself private. With this state-
ment she readily acquiesced, and told me that she
had no desire for any further information, than I
found it expedient to give.
My first productions were of the poetical kind.
After having finished two or three, I directed this
generous creature to take them to the office of a news
paper; but they were rejected with contempt by the
Aristarchus of that place, who, having bestowed ou


270 ADVENTURES OF
rendered a perseverance even in this industry, diffi-
cult to be maintained. I often threw down my pen in
an ecstacy of despair. Sometimes, for whole days
together, I was incapable of action, and sunk into a
sort of partial stupor too wretched to be described.
Youth and health however enabled me, from time to
tiine, to get the better of my dejection; and to rouse
myself to something like a gaiety, which, if it had
been permanent, might have made this interval of
my story tolerable to my reflections.
While I was thus endeavouring to occupy and pro-
vide for the intermediate period, till the violence of
the pursuit after me might be abated, a new source
of danger opened upon me, of which I had no pre-
vious suspicion.
Gines, the thief who had been expelled from cap-
tain Raymond's gang, had fluctuated during the last
years of his life, between the two professions, of a
violator of the laws, and a retainer to their admini-
stration. He had originally devoted himself to the
first, and probably his initiation in the mysteries of
thieving, qualified him to be peculiarly e
expert in the
profession of a thief-taker, a profession he had adopt-
ed, not from choice, but necessity. In this employ-
ment his reputation was great, though perhaps not
equal to his merits ; for it happens here, as in other
departments of human society, that, however the
subalterns may furnish wisdom and skill, the princi-
pals exclusively possess the eclat. He was exerci.
sing this art in a very prosperous manner, when it
happened, by some accident, that one or two of his
achievements, previous to his having shaken off the
dregs of unlicensed depredation, were in danger of
becoming subjects of public attention. Having had
repeated intimations of this, he thought it prudent to
decamp, and it was during this period of his retreat,
that he entered into the gang.
Such was the history of this man, antecedently to $
his being placed in the situation in which J had first
encountered him. At the time of that encounter he
was a veteran of captain Raymond's gang; for, thieves
being a short-lived race, the character of veteran
costs the less time in acquiring. Upon his expulsion
from this community, he returned once more to his
lawful profession, and by his old comrades was re-
ceived with congratulation, as a lost sheep. In the
vulgar classes of society no length of time is suffici.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
1
count of the magnitude of its dimensions, it might
well be supposed that an individual could remain bid-
den and unknown. But no difficulty could discourage
this new adversary. He went from inn to inn, (rea-
sonably supposing that there was no private house to
which I could immediately repair,) till he found, by
the description he gave, and the recollections he ex-
cited, that I had slept for one night in the Borough
of Southwark. But he could get no further informa-
tion. The people of the inn had no knowledge what
had become of me the next morning.
- This however did but render him more eager in his
pursuit. The describing me was now more difficult,
on account of the partial change of my dress I had
made the second day of my being in town. But Gines
at length overcame the obstacle from that quarter.
· Having traced me to my second inn, he was here
farnished with a more copious information. I had
been a subject of speculation for the leisure hours of
some of the persons belonging to this inn. An old
woman of a most curious and loquacious disposition
who lived opposite to it, and who that inorning rose
early to her washing, had espied me from her win-
dow, by the light of a large lamp which hung over the
inn, as I issued from the gate. She had but a very
imperfect view of me, but she thought there was
something Jewish in my appearance. She was ac-
customed to hold a conference every morning with
the landłady of the inn, some of the waiters and
chambermaids occasionally assisting at it. In the
course of the dialogue of this morning, she asked
some questions about the Jew who had slept there
the night before. No Jew had slept there. The
curiosity of the landlady was excited in her turn.
By the time of the morning it could be no one but me.
It was very strange! They compared notes respect.
ing'my appearance and dress. No two things could
be more dissimilar. The Jew Christian, upon any
dearth of subjects of intelligence, repeatedly fur-
nished matter for their discourse.
· The information thus afforded to Gines, appeared
exceedingly material. But the performance did not,
for some time, keep pace with the promise. He could
not enter every private house into which lodgers were
ever admitted, in the same manner that he had treat-
ed the inns. He walked the streets, and examined
with a curious and inquisitive eye the countenance of


ADVENTURES OF
every Jew about my stature ; but in vain. He repair-
ed to Duke's Place and the Synagogues. It was not
here that in reality he could calculate upon finding
me : but he resorted to these means, in despair, and
as a last hope. He was more than once upon the
point of giving up the pursuit ; but he was recalled to
it by an insatiable and restless appetite for revenge.
It was during this perturbed and fluctuating state
of his mind, that he chanced to pay a visit to a bro-
ther of his, who was the head-work man of a printing-
office. There was little intercourse between these
two persons, their dispositions and habits of life be-
ing extremely dissimilar. The printer was industri-
ous, sober, inclined to methodism, and of a propen.
sity to accumulation. He was extremely dissatisfied
with the character and pursuits of his brother, and
had made some ineffectual attempts to reclaim him.
But, though they by no means agreed in their habits
of thinking, they sometimes saw each other. Gines
loved to boast of as many of his achievements as he
dared venture to mention ; and his brother was one
more hearer, in addition to the set of his usual asso-
ciates. The printer was amused with the blunt saga-
city of remark, and novelty of incident, that cha-
racterised Gine's conversation. He was secretly
pleased, in spite of all his sober and church-going
prejudices, that he was brother to a man of so much
ingenuity and fortitude.
After having listened for some time upon this oc-
'casion, to the wonderfal stories which Gines, in his
rugged way, condescended to tell, the printer felt an
ambition to entertain his brother in his turn. He be-
gan to retail some of my stories of Cartouch and
Gusman d'Alfarache. The attention of Gines was
excited. His first emotion was wonder; his second
was envy and aversion. Where did the printer get
these stories? This question was answered. I will
tell you what, said the printer, we none of us know
what to make of the writer of these articles. He
writes poetry and morality and history: I am a print-
er and corrector of the press, and may pretend with-
out vanity to be a tolerably good judge of these mat-
ters: he writes them all to my mind extremely fine,
and yet he is no more than a jew. [To my honest
printer this seemed as strange, as if they had been
written by a Cherokee chieftain at the falls of the
Missisippi.)


CALEB WILLIAMS.
275
A Jew! How do you know? Did you ever see him ?
11 No; the matter is always brought to us by a was
on fibman. But my master hates mysteries; he likes to
see his authors himself. So he plagues and plagues
spre the old woman; but he can never get any thing out of
call her, except that one day she happened to drop that
present the young gentleman was a jew.
Tipo A Jew! a young gentleman! a person who did
toale every thing_by proxy, and made a secret of all his
prill motions! Here was abundant matter for the specula-
ents tions and suspicions of Gines. He was confirmed in
them, without adverting to the process of his own
instante mind, by the subject of my lucubrations, men who
pre died by the hands of the executioner. He said little
sabit more to his brother, except asking, as if casully,
hei what sort of an old woman this was? of what age she
ili night be ? and whether she often bronight him ma-
W terials of this kind ? and soon after took occasion to
Cu leave him.
8. It was with vast pleasure that Gines had listened
maid to this unhoped-for information. Having collected
les from his brother sufficient hints relative to the person
ist and appearance of Mrs. Marney, and understanding
that he expected to receive something from me the
rely next day, Gines took his stand in the street early,
print that he might not risk miscarriage by negligence. He
Liebe waited several hours, but not without success Mrs.
Marney came; he watched her into the house ; and,
jse after about twenty minutes delay, saw her return.
il He dogged her from street to street; observed her
ill finally enter the door of a private house; and con-
felt gratulated himself upon having at length arrived at
To the consummation of his labours.
The house she entered was not her own habitation.
By a sort of miraculous accident she had observed
e Gines following her in the street. As she went home,
she saw a woman who had fallen down in a fainting
fit. Moved by the compassion that was ever alive in
7 her, she approached her, in order to render her assist-
ance Presently a crowd collected round them.
Mrs. Marney, having done what she was able, once
Som more proceeded homewards. Observing the crowd
pe round her, the idea of pick-pockets occurred to her
mind; she put her hands to her sides, and at the
same time looked round upon the populace. She had
X left the circle somewhat abruptly; and Gines, who
had been obliged to come nearer, lest he should lose
foto


276
ADVENTURES OF
her in the confusion, was at that moment standini
exactly opposite to her. His visage was of the mos
extraordinary kind; habit had written the character
of malignant cunning, and dauntless effrontery, is
every line of his face; and Mrs. Marney, who wa
neither philosopher nor physiognomist, was never
theless struck. This good woman, like most person
of her notable character, had a peculiar way of go
ing home, not through the open streets, but by narro
lanes and alleys, with intricate insertions and sud
den turnings. In one of these, by some accident
she once again caught a glance of her pursuer. Thi
circumstance, together with the singularity of bi
appearance, awakened her conjectures. Could I
be following her ? It was the middle of the day, and
she could have no fears for herself. But could this
circumstance have any reference to me? She reco!
lected the precautions and secrecy I practised, ani
had no doubt that I had reasons for what I did. She
recollected that she had always been upon her guard
respecting me ; but had she been sufficiently so ? She
thought that, if she should be the means of any mis
chief to me, she should be miserable for ever. She
determined therefore, by way of precaution in case
of the worst, to call at a friend's house, and send me
word of what had occurred. Having instructed her
friend, she went out immediately upon a visit to a
person in the exactly opposite direction, and desired
her friend to proceed upon the errand to me, five mi-
nutes after she left the house. By this prudence she
completely extricated me from the present danger.
Meantime the intelligence that was brought me by
no means ascertained the greatness of the danger
For any thing I could discorer in it, the circumstance
might be perfectly innocent, and the fear solely pro
ceed from the over-caution and kindness of this be-
nevolent and excellent woman. Yet such was the
misery of my situation, I had no choice. For this
menace or no menace, I was obliged to desert my
habitation at a minute's warning, taking with me now
thing but what I could carry in my hand; to see my
generous benefactress no more; to quit my little ar-
rangements and provision; and to seek once again,
in some forlorn retreat, new projects, and, if of that
I could have any rational hope, a new friend. I de.
scended into the street with a heavy, not an irreso
lute heart. It was broad day, I said, Persons are


CALEB WILLIAMS.
277
9
at this moment supposed to be roaming the street in
search of me: I must not trust to the chance of their
pursuing one direction, and I another. I traversed
half a dozen streets, and then dropped into an ob-
scure house of entertainment for persons of small ex.
pence. In this house I took some refreshment, pass:
ed several hours of active, but melancholy thinking,
and at last procured a bed. As soon, however, as it
was dark, I went out for this was indispensible) to
purchase the materials of a new disguise. Having
adjusted it as well as I could during the night, I left
this asylum, with the same precautions that I had
employed in former instances.
I procured a new lodging. By some bias of the
mind, it may be, gratifying itself with images of peril,
I inclined to believe that Mrs. Marney's alarm had
not been without foundation. I was, however, un-
able to conjecture through what means danger had
approached me; and had therefore only the unsatis-
factory remedy of redoubling my watch upon all my.
actions. Still I had the joint considerations pressing
upon me, of security and subsistence. I had some
small remains of the produce of my former industry;
but this was but small, for my employer was in ar-
rear with me, and I did not choose in any method to
apply to him for payment. The anxieties of my mind,
in spite of all my struggles, preyed upon my health.
I did not consider myself as in safety for an instant.
der My appearance was wasted to a shadow; and I
started at every sound that was unexpected. Some
poen times I was hálf tempted to resign myself into the
nike hands of the law, and brave its worst; bat resenta
ment and indignation at those times speedily flowed
back upon my mind, and reanimated my perseverance.
I knew no better resource with respect of subsist.
ence, than that I had employed in the former instance,
of seeking some third person to stand between me
and the disposal of my industry. I might find an in-
dividual ready to undertake this office in my behalf,
but where should I find the benevolent soul of Mrs.
26. Marney? The person I fixed upon was a Mr. Spur-
rel, a man who took in work from the watch-makers,
and had an apartment upon our second floor. I'ex-
amined him two or three times with irresolute glances,
as we passed upon the stairs, before I would venture
to accost him. He observed this, and at length
me kindly invited me into his apartment.
peet
the ?
0.


CALEB WILLIAMS. 281
per ? Every word of it carried despair to my heart.
The actual apprehension that I dreaded, would per.
haps have been less horrible. It would have put an
end to that lingering terror to which I was a prey.
Disguise was no longer of use. A numerous class
of individaals, through every department, almost
every house of the metropolis, would be induced to
look with a suspicioas eye upon every stranger, es-
pecially every solitary stranger, that fell under their
observation. The prize of one hundred guineas was
held out to excite their avarice, and sharpen their
penetration. It was no longer Bow Street, it was a
million of men, in arms against me. Neither had I
the refuge, which few men have been so miserable
as to want, of one single individual with whom to
repose my alarms, and who might shelter me from
the gaze of indiscriminate curiosity.
What could exceed the horrors of this situation ?
My heart knocked against my ribs, my bosom heaved,
I gasped and panted for breath. There is no end
then, said I, to my persecutions ! My unwearied and
long continued labours lead to no termination! Termi-
nation! No! the lapse of time, that cures all other
things, makes my case more desperate! Why then,
exclaimed I, a new train of thought suddenly rush-
ing into my mind,-Why should I sustain the contest
any longer? I can at least elude my persecutors in
death. I can bury myself, and the traces of my ex-
istence together, in friendly oblivion; and thus be.
queath' eternal doubt, and ever new alarm, to those
who have no peace but in pursuing me!
In the midst of the horrors with which I was now
impressed, this idea gave me pleasure, and I has-
tened to the Thames to put it in instant execution.
Such was the paroxysm of my mind, that my pow-
ers of vision became partially suspended. I was no
longer conscious to the feebleness of disease, but
rushed along with fervent impetuosity. I passed from
street to street, without observing what direction I
pursued. After wandering I know not how long, I
arrived at London Bridge. I hastened to the stairs,
and saw the river covered with vessels.
No human being must see me, said I, at the in-
stant that I vanish for ever. This thonght required
some consideration. A portion of time had elapsed
since my first desperate purpose. My understanding
began to return. The sight of the vessels suggested


CALEB WILLIAMS.
283
somcthing extraordinary in his conntenance: I'had
not time to speak, before I saw two other men follow
him. At the first glance I was sufficiently assured
what sort of persons they were. At the second, I
perceived that one of them was no other than Gines
himself. I had understood formerly that he had been
of this profession, and I was not surprised to find him
in it again. Though I had for three hours endeavoured.
as it were, to prepare myself, for the unavoidable
necessity of falling once again into the hands of the
officers of law, the sensation I felt at their entrance
was indescribably agonizing. I was beside not a
little astonished at the time and manner of their en.
trance; and I felt anxious to know whether Mr.
Spurrel could be base enough to have been their in-
troducer.
I was not long held in perplexity. He no sooner
saw his followers within the door, than he exclaimed
with convulsive eagerness, There, there, that is your
man! thank God! thank God! Gines looked eagerly
in my face, with a countenance expressive alter-
nately of hope and doubt, and answered, By God,
and I do not know whether it be or no! I am afraid
we are in the wrong box! Then recollecting himself,
We will go into the house, and examine further how-
ever. We all went up stairs into Mr. Spurrel's room;
I set down the candle upon the table. I had hitherto
been silent; but I was determined not to desert my-
self, and was a little encouraged to exertion hy the
scepticism of Gines. With a calm and deliberate
manner therefore, in my feigned voice, one of the
characteristics of which was lisping, I asked, Pray,
gentlemen, what may be your pleasure with me?
Why, said Gines, our errand is with one Caleb Wil-
liams, and a precious rascal he is ! I ought to know
the chap well enough; but they say he has as many
laces as there are days in the year. So you please
to pull off your face; or if you cannot do that, at
least you can pull off your clothes, and let us see
what your hump is made of.
I remonstrated, but in vain. I stood detected in
part of my artifice; and Gines, though still uncer-
tain, was every moment more and more confirmed
in his suspicions. Mr. Spurrel perfectly gloted, with
eyes that seemed ready to devour every thing, that
passed. As my imposture gradually appeared more
palpable, he repeated his exclamation, Thank God!


284 ADVENTURES OF
thank God! At last, tired with this scene of mum.
mery, and disgusted beyond measure with the base
and hypocritical figure I seemed to exhibit, I exclaim.
ed, Well I am Caleb Williams ; conduct me where-
ever you please! And now Mr. Spurrel ! He
gave a violent start. The instant I declared myself
his transport had been at the highest, and was, to any
power he was able to exert, absolutely uncontrolable.
But the unexpectedness of my address, and the tone
in which I spoke, electrified him.- Is it possible,
continued I, that you should have been the wretch
to betray me? What have I done to deserve this treat-
ment? Is this the kindness you professed ? the affec-
tion that was perpetually fin your mouth ? to be the
death of me!
My poor boy! my dear creatore ! {cried Sparrel,
whimpering, and in a tone of the humblest expostu-
lation, indeed I could not help it! I would have help
ed it if I could! I hope they will not hurt my darling!
I am sure I shall die if they do!
Miserable driveller! interrupted I, with a stern
voice, do you betray me into the the remorseless fangs
of the law, and then talk of my not being hurt? I
know my sentence, and am prepared to meet it! You
have fixed the halter upon my neck, and at the same
price would have done so to your only son! Go, count
your accursed guineas! My life would have been
safer in the hands of one I had never seen, than in
yours, whose mouth and whose eyes for ever ran over
with crocodile affection!
I have always believed that my sickness, and, as
he apprehended, approaching death, contributed its
part to the treachery of Mr. Spurrel. He predicted
to his own mind, the time when I should no longer be
able to work. He recollected with agony the ex:
pence that attended his son's illness and death. - He
was determined to afford me no assistance of a simi-
Jar kind. He feared however the reproach of deserto
ing me. He feared the tenderness of his nature. He
felt, that I was growing upon his affections, and that
in a short time, he could not have deserted me. He
was driven by a sort of implicit impulse, for che sake
of avoiding one ungenerous action, to take refuge in
another, the basest and most diabolical. This mo-
tive, conjoining with the prospect of the proffered
reward, was an incitement too powerfal for him to re-
sist.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
285
Having given vent to my resentment, I left Mr
Spurrel motionless, and unable to atter a word.
Gines and his companion attended me. It is unne.'
cessary to repeat all the insolence of this man. He
alternately triumphed in the completion of his revenge,
and regretted the loss of the reward to the shrivelled
an old curmudgeon we had just quitted, whom however
he swore he would cheat of it, by one means or ano-
ther. He claimed to himself the ingenuity of having
devised the halfpenny legend, the thonght of which
was all his own, and was an expedient that was im-
possible to fail. There was neither law nor justice,
he said, to be had, if Hunks, who had done nothing,
were permitted to pocket the cash, and his merit were
left undistingnished and pennyless.
I paid but little attention to his story. It struck
upon my sense, and I was able to recollect it at my
nearest leisure, though I thongt not of it at the time.
For the present I was busily employed reflecting on
my new situation, and the conduct to be observed in
it. The thonght of suicide had twice, in moments of
uncommon despair, suggested itself to my mind;
but it was far from my habitual meditations. At pre-
sent, and in all cases where death was immediately
threatened me from the injustice of others, I felt my-
self disposed to contend to the last
My prospects were indeed sufficiently gloomy and
discouraging. How much labour had l'exerted, first
to extricate myself from prison, and next to evade the
diligence of my pursuiers; and the result of all to be
brought back to the point from which I began! I had
gained fame indeed, the miserable fame to have my
story bawled forth by hawkers and ballad-mongers,
to have my praises as an active and enterprising vil-
lain celebrated among footmen and chambermaids ;
the but I was neither an Erostratus nor an Alexand
die contented with that species of eulogium. With
respect to all that was solid, what chance could I as.
cribe to new exertions of a similar nature ? Nover
was a human creature pursued by enemies more in-
ventive or envenomed. I could have small hope that.
they would ever cease their persecntion, or that my
future attempts could be crowned with a more desir-
able issue.
They were considerations like these that diotated
my resolution. My mind had been gradually weana?
ing from Mr. Falkland, till its feelings rose to some='
der to
*
Pp


386
ADVENTURES OF
thing like abhorrence. I had long cherished a re.
verence for him, which not even animosity and sub-
ornation on his part could readily destroy. But I
now ascribed a character so inhumanly sanguinary to
his mind; I saw something so fiend-like in the thus
hunting me round the world, and determining to be
satisfied with nothing less than my blood, while at the
same time he knew my innocence, my indisposition
to mischief, nay I might add my virtues; that hence.
forth I trampled reverence and the recollection of
former esteem under my feet. I lost all regard to his
intellectual greatness, and all pity for the agonies of
his soul. I also would abjure forbearance. I would
show myself bitter' and inflexible as he had done
Was it wise in him to drive me into extremity ans
madness? Had he no fears for his own secret ani
attrocious offences ?
I had been obliged to spend the remainder of the
night upon which I had been apprehended, in prison.
During the interval I had thrown off every vestige of
disguise and appeared the next morning in 'my own
person. I was of course easily identified; and, this
being the whole with which the magistrates before
whom I now stood, thought themselves concerned.
they were proceeding to make out an order for my
being conducted back to my own county. I suspend
ed the dispatch of this measure, by observing that
had something to disclose. This is an overture to
which men appointed for the administration of cri-
minal justice, never fail to attend.
I went before the magistrates to whose office Gines
and his comrade conducted me, fully determined to
publish those astonishing secrets, of which I had hi
therto been the faithful depository; and once for al
to turn the tables upon my accuser. It was time tha
the real criminal should be the sufferer, and not tha
innocence should for ever labour under the oppressio
of guilt.
I said that I had always protested my innocence
and must now repeat the protest.
In that case, retorted the senior magistrate abrupt.
ly, what can you have to disclose ? If you are inne
cent, that is no business of ours! We act officially.
I always declared, continued I, that I was the per
petrator of no guilt, but that the guilt wholly belong-
ed to my accuser. He privately conveyed these e
fects among my property, and then charged me with


CALEB WILLIAMS.
287
the robbery. I now declare more than that, that this
man is a murderer, that I detected his criminality,
1 and that, for that reason, he is determined to deprive
me of life. I presume, gentlemen, that you do con-
sider it as your business to take this declaration. I
am persuaded you will be by no means disposed, ac-
tively or passively, to contribute to the atrocious in-
justice under which I suffer, to the imprisonment and
condemnation of an innocent man, in order that a
elemente murderer may go free. I suppressed this story as
in long as I could. I was extremely averse to be the
author of the unhappiness or the death of a human,
"being. But all patience and submission have their
limits.
Give me leave, sir, rejoined the magistrate, with
an air of affected moderation, to ask you two ques-
tions. Were you any way aiding, abetting, or con-
tributing to this murder ?
No.
And pray, sir, who is this Mr. Falkland, and what
may have been the nature of your connexion with
him?
Mr. Falkland is a gentleman of six thousand per
annum. I lived with him as his secretary.
In other words you were his servant ?
As you please.
Very well, sir, that is quite enongh for me. First
I have to tell you, as a magistrate, that I can have
nothing to do with your declaration. If you had been
ooncerned in the murder you talk of, that would alter
the case. But it is out of all reasonable rule, for a
magistrate to take an information from a felon, ex-
cept against his accomplices. Next I think it right
to observe to you, in my own proper person, that you
appear to me to be the most impudent rascal I ever
saw. Why, are you such an ass as to suppose, that
the sort of story you have been telling, can be of any
service to you, either here, or at the assizes, or any
where else? A fine time of it indeed it wonld be, if
when gentlemen of six thousand a-year, take up their
servants for robbing them, those servants could trump
Land up such accusations as these, and could get any ma-
gistrate or court of justice to listen to them! Whe-
ther or no the felony with which you stand charged
would have bronght you to the gallows, I will not
pretend to say. But I am sure this story will. There
would be a speedy end to all order and good govern
he


CALEB WILLIAMS.
289
fancy had once induced me to do, as a scene, in
which to hide or to appear, and to exhibit the freaks
of a wanton vivacity. I saw my whole species as
ready, in one mode or other, to be made the instru-
ments of the tyrant. Hope died away in the bottom
of my heart. Shut up for the first night in my dun-
geon, I was seized at intervals with temporary frenzy.
From time to time, I rent the universal silence with
the roarings of unsupportable despair. But this was
Elena a transient distraction. I soon returned to the sober
me recollection of myself and my miseries.
My prospects were more gloomy, and my situation
So this apparently more irremediable than ever. I was ex-
posed again, if that were of any account, to the insge
js lence and tyranny that are uniformly exercised within
sense those walls. Why should I repeat the loathsome
do tale of all that was endured by me, and is endured
bele by every man, who is unbappy enough to fall under
w the government of these consecrated ministers of na-
amptelio tional jurisprudence? The snfferings I had already
pole experienced, my anxieties, my flight, the perpetual
an expectation of being discovered, worse than the dis-
w the covery itself, would perhaps have been enough to sa-
tisfy the most insensible individual in the court of his
own conscience, if I had ever been the felon I was
pretended to be. Bat the law has neither cyes, nor
me ears, nor bowels of humanity; and it turns into mar-
ble the hearts of all those that are nursed in its prin-
ciples.
verilen 'I however once more recovered my spirit of deter-
mination I resolved that, while I had life, I would
Ce never he deserted by this spirit. Oppressed, anni-
les hilated I might be ; but, if I died, I would die resist-
they ing. What use, what advantage, what pleasurable
e sentiment, could arise from a tame surrender ? There
is no man that is ignorant, that to humble yourself at
hi the feet of the law is a bootless task; in her courts
** there is no room for amendment and reformation.
merak My fortitude may to some persons appear above
in the standard of human nature. But, if I draw back
Tap the veil from my heart, they will readily confess their
nhalle mistake. My heart bled at every pore. My resolu-
tion was not the calm sentiment of philosophy and
med reason. It was a gloomy and desperate purpose : the
the creature, not of hope, hut of a mind austerely held to
with its design, that felt, as it were, satisfied with the na-
mi ked effort, and prepared to give success or miscar.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
291
I have somewhere read, that heaven in mercy hides
ES from us the future incidents of our life. My own ex-
2 perience does not well accord with this assertion.
* In this instance at least, I should have been saved
from insupportable labour and undescribable anguish,
di could I have foreseen the catastrophe of this most in-
en teresting transaction.
ETE It was not long before I took my everlasting leave
Lielt of this detested and miserable scene. My heart was
o for the present too full of astonishment and exultation
in this unexpected deliverance, to admit of anxiety
about the future. I withdrew from the town. I ram-
254 bled with a slow and thoughtful pace, now bursting
with exclamation, and now buried in profound and
& undefinable reverie. Accident led me towards the
gesi yery heath which had first sheltered me, when, upon
in a former occasion, 1 broke out of my prison. I wan.
de dered among its cavities and its vallies. It was a
forlorn and desolate solitude. I continued here, I
i know not how long. Night at length overtook me
unperceived, and I prepared to return for the pre-
Bent to the town I had quitted.
* It was now perfectly dark, when two men, whom
more than I had not previously observed, sprung upon me from
11 behind. They seized me by the arms, and threw me
upon the ground. I had no time for resistance or re-
collection. I could however perceive that one of
them was the diabolical Gines. They blindfolded,
uang gagged me, and hurried me I knew not whither. As
fire we passed along in silence, I endeavoured to conjec-
ture what could be the meaning of this extraordinary
adres violence. I was strongly impressed with the idea
that, after the event of this morning, the most severe
nd painful part of my history was past; and, strange
this as it may seem, I could not persuade myself to regand
Es with alarm this unexpected attack. It might how-
ever be some new project, suggested by the brutal
temper, and unrelenting animosity of Gines.
I presently found that we were returned into the
town I had just quitted. They led me into a house,
and as soon as they had taken possession of a room,
en freed me from the restraints they had before impos-
Firmed. Here Gines informed me with a malicious grin,
that no harm was intended me, and therefore I should
show most sense in keeping myself quiet. I perceiva
101ed that we were in an inn; I overheard company in
Ein a room at no great distance from us, and therefore


London, Hublished Sept 11, 1824, by S. Fisher.

7. Hopwood det
Rogers, sculp
I insist, said M.Falkland, upon your signing
a Paper declaring, in the most solemn
manner, that I am innocent of Murder. ;
Page 294.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
296
every misfortune that has happened to me. I have
no forbearance to exercise towards that passion. If
you be not yet cured of this tremendous and sanguin-
ary folly, at least I will do nothing to cherish it. I
know not whether from my youth I was destined for
a hero ; but I may thank you for having taught me a
lesson of insurmountable fortitude.
What is it that you require of me? That I should
sign away my own reputation for the better main-
taining of yours. Where is the equality of that?
What is it that casts me at such au immence distance
below you, as to make every thing that relates to me
wholly unworthy of consideration? You have been
educated in the prejudice of birth. I abhor that pre-
judice. You have made me desperate, and I utter
what that desperation suggests,
You will tell me perhaps, that I have no reputation
to lose ; that, while you are esteemed faultless and
unblemished, I am universally reputed a thief, a snb-
orner, and a columniator. Be it so. I will never do
any thing to countenance those imputations. The
more I am destitute of the esteem of mankind, 'the
more careful I will be to preserve my own. I will
never, from fear, or any other mistaken motive, do
any thing of which I ought to be ashamed.
You are determined to be for ever my enemy. I
have in no degree deserved this eternal abhorrence,
I have always esteemed and pitied you. For a con-
siderable time I rather close to expose myself to every
kind of misfortune, than disclose the secret that was
so dear to you. I was not deterred by your menaces,
(What could you make me suffer, more than I actu-
ally suffered ?) but by the humanity of my own heart;
in which, and not in means of violence, you ought to
have reposed your confidence. What is the mysteri-
ous vengeance that you can yet execute against me?
You menaced me before; you can menace no worse
now. You are wearing out the springs of terror. Do
with me as you please! You teach me to hear you
with an unshrinking and desperate firmness. Recol-
lect yourself! I did not proceed to the step with
which you reproach me, till I was apparently urged
to the very last extremity. I had suffered as much
as human nature can suffer; I had lived in the midst
of eternal alarm and unintermitted watchfulness; I
had twice been driven to purposes of suicide. I am
now sorry however that the step of which you com-


296
ADVENTURES OF
plain, was ever adopted. But, urged to exasperation
by an unintermitted rigour, I had no time to cool or
to deliberate. Even at present I cherish do venge-
ance against you. All that is reasonable, all that can
really contribute to your security, I will readily con-
cede; but I will not be driven to an act repugnant to
all reason, integrity, and justice.
- Mr. Falkland listened to me with astonishment and
impatience. He had entertained no previous con-
ception of the firmness I displayed. Several times
he was convulsed with the fury that laboured in his
breast. Once and again he betrayed an intention to
interrupt; but he was restrained by the collectedness
of my manner, and perhaps by a desire to be ac-
quainted with the entire state of iny mind. Finding
that I had concluded, he paused for a moment; his
passion seemed gradually to enlarge till it was no
longer capable of control.
It is well! said he, gnashing his teeth, and stamp-
ing npon the ground. You refuse the composition I
offer! I have no power to persuade you to compli
ance! Yon defy me! At least I have a power res
pecting yon, and that power I will exercise; a power
that shall grind you into atoms. I condescend to no
more expostulation. I know what I am, and what I
can be. I know what you are, and what fate is re-
served for you!
Saying this, he quitted the room.
Such were the particulars of this memorable scene
The impression it has left upon my understanding i:
indelible. The fignre and appearance of Mr. Falk
land, his death-like weakness and decay, bis mori
than mortal energy and rage, the words that he spoke
the motives that animated bim, produced one com
pounded effect upon my mind, that nothing of the
same nature could ever parrallel. The idea of his
misery thrilled through my frame. How weak in
comparison of it, is the imaginary hell, which thi
great enemy of mankind is represented as carryinį
every where about with him!
From this consideration my mind presently turner
to the menacies he had vented against myself. The
were all mysterious and undefined. He had talke
of power, hut had given no hint from which I couli
collect in what he imagined it to consist. He ha?
talked of misery, but had not dropped a syllable res
pecting the nature of the misery to be inflicted,


CALEB 'WILLIAMS.
297
I sat still for some time, ruminating on these
thoughts. Neither Mr. Falkland, nor any other per-
son appeared, to disturb my meditations. I rose,
went out of the room, and from the inn into the street.
No one offered to molest me. It was strange! What
was the nature of this power, from which I was to
apprehend so much, yet which seemed to leave me
at perfect liberty ? I began to imagine that all I had
heard from this dreadful adversary, was mere mad.
ness and extravagance, and that he was at length de-
prived of the use of reason, which had long served
him only as a medium of torment. Yet was it likely
in that case, that he should be able to employ Gines
and his associate, who had just been his instruments
of violence upon my person?
I proceeded along the streets with considerable
caution. I looked before me and behind me, as well
as the darkness would allow me to do, that I might
not again be hunted in sight by some man of strata-
gem and violence without my perceiving it. I went
not, as before, beyond the limits of the town, bnt con-
sidered the streets, the houses, and the inhabitants,
as affording some degree of security. I was still
walking with my mind thus full of suspicion and fore-
cast, when I discovered Thomas, that servant of Mr.
Falkland whom I have already more than once had
occasion to mention. He advanced towards me with
an air so blant and direct, as instantly to remove from
me the idea of any thing insiduous in his purpose ; be-
side that I had always felt the character of Thomas,
rustic and uncultivated as it was, to be entitled to a
more than common portion of esteem.
Thomas, said I, as he advanced, I hope you are
willing to give me joy, that I am at length delivered
from the dreadful danger, which for many months
haunted me so unmercifully.
No, rejoined Thomas roughly, I be not at all wil.
ling. I do not know what to make of myself in this
affair. While you were in prison in that miserable
fashion, I felt all at one almost, as if I loved you :
and now that that is over, and you are turned out loose
in the world to do your worst, my blood rises at the
very sight of you. To look at you, you are almost
that very lad Williams for whom I could with plea-
sure, as it were, have laid down my life ; and yet,
behind that smiling face, there lie robbery, and lying,
and every thing that is ungrateful and murderous,


300
ADVENTURES OF
ine, and the voluntary surrender of it, is accompanied
with no injury to its late proprietor; what other con.
dition can be necessary, to render the use of it on my
part a duty ? He that lately possessed it has injured
me; does that alter its value as a medium of ex-
change? He will boast perhaps of the imaginary ob-
ligation he has conferred on me : Surely to shrink
from a thing in itself right, from any such apprehen.
sion, can be the result only of pusillanimity and cow-
ardice!
lofluenced by these reasonings, I determined to re
tain what had thus been pat into my hands. My nex
care was in regard to the scene I should choose, a
the retreat of that life which I had just saved from
the grasp of the executioner. The danger to which
was exposed, of forcible interruption in my pursaite
was probably in sume respects less now, than it hac
been previously to this crisis. Beside, that I was
considerably influenced in this deliberation, by the
strong loathing I conceived for the situations in whici.
I had lately been engaged. I knew not in what mode
Mr. Falkland intended to exercise his vengeanc
against me; but I was siezed with so unconquerable
an aversion to disguise, and the idea of spending my
life in personating a ficticious character, that I coul.
not, for the present at least, reconcile my mind ta
any thing of that nature. The same kind of disgusti
had conceived for the metropolis, where I had spent
80 many hours of artifice, sadness and terror. I there
fore decided in favour of the project which had for
merly proved amusing to my imaginativn, of with
drawing to some distant, rural scene, a scene of calm-
ness and obscurity, where, for a few years at least,
perhaps during the life of Mr. Falkland, I might be
hidden from the world, recover the wounds my mind
had received in this fatal connexion, methodise and
improve the experience which had been accumulated
cultivate the faculties I in any degree possessed, and
employ the intervals of these occupations in simple
industry, and the intercourse of guileless, uneducated
kind-intentioned minds. The menaces of my perse
cator seemed to forbode the inevitable interruption of
this system. But I deemed it wise to put these me-
naces out of my consideration. I compared them to
death, which must infallibly overtake us, we know
not when; but the possibility of whose arrival nest
year, vext week, to morrow, must be left out of the


'302
ADVENTURES OP
you of his profession, except on the recurring Sandar.
At other times he condescended, with his evangelical
hand, to guide the plough, or to drive the cows from
the field to the farm-yard for the milking. The apo-
thecary occasionally officiated as a barber, and the
lawyer was the village schoolmaster.
By all these persons I was received with kindness
and hospitality. Among people thus remote from the
bustle of human life, there is an open spirit of confi-
dence, by means of which a stranger easily finds ac.
cess to their benevolence and good will. My man.)
ners had never been greatly debauched from the sim-
plicity of rural life, by the scenes through which I had
passed; and the hardships I had endured, had given
additional mildness to my character. In the theatre
upon which I was now placed, I had no rival. My
mechanical occupation had hitherto been a non-resi-
dent; and the schoolmaster, who did not aspire to the
sublime heights of science I professed to communi-
cate, was willing to admit me as a partner, in the
task of civilizing the unpolished manners of the inha-
bitants. For the parson, civilisation was no part of
his trade; his business was with the things of a better
life, not with the carnal concerns of this material
scene; in truth, his thoughts were principally occu
pied with his oatmeal and his cows.
These however were not the only companions,
which this remote retirement afforded me. There
was a family of a very different description, of which
I gradually became the chosen intimate. The father
was a shrewd, sensible, rational man, but who had
turned his principal attention to subjects of agricul-
ture. His wife was a truly admirable and extraordi-
pary woman. She was the daughter of a Neapolitan
nobleman, who, after having visited, and made a con-
siderable figure in every country of Europe, had at
length received the blow of fate in this village. He
had been banished his country upon suspicion of re-
ligious and political heresy, and his estates con fis-
cated. With this only child, like Prospero in the
Tempest, he had withdrawn bimself to one of the most
obscure and uncultivated regions of the world. Very
soon however, after his arrival in Wales, he had been
seized with a malignant fever, which carried him off
in three days. He died possessed of no other pro-
perty, than a few jewels, and a bill of credit, tp na
considerable amount, upon an English banker.


CALEB WILLIAMS.
303
Here then was the infant Laura, left in a foreign
country, and without a single friend. The father of
her present husband, was led, by motives of pure hu:
manity, to seek to mitigate the misfortunes of the dy.
ing Italian. Though a plain, uninstructed man, with
no extraordinary refinement of intellect, there was
someting in his countenance, that determined the
stranger, in his present forlorn and melancholy situa-
tion, to make him his executor, and the guardian of
his daughter. The Neapolitan understood enough of
English, to explain his wishes to this friendly attend-
ant of his death-bed. As his circumstances were
narrow, the servants of the stranger, two Italians, 'a
wale and a female, were sent back to their own coun-
try soon after the death of their master.
Laura was at this time eight years of age. At these
tender years she had been susceptible of little direct
instruction; and, as she grew up, even the memory
of her father, became, from year to year, more vague
and indistinct in her mind. But there was something
she derived froin her father, whether along with the
life he bestowed, or as the consequence of his instruc-
tion and manners, which no time could efface. Every
added year of her life, contributed to develop the fund
of her accomplishments. She read, she observed,
she reflected. Without instructors, she taught her:
self to draw, to sing, and to understand the more po-
lite European languages. As she had no society, in
this remote situation, but that of peasants, she had no
idea of honoar or superiority to be derived from her
acquisitions; but pursued them from a secret taste,
and as the sources of personal enjoyment.
Amutnal attachment gradually arose, between her
and the only son of ker guardian. His father led hina
from early youth, to the labours and the sports of the
field, and there was little congeniality between his
pursuits and those of Laura. But this was a defect
that she was slow to discover. She had never been
accustomed to society in her chosen amusements, and
habit, at that time, even made her conceive, that they
were indebted to solitude for an additional relish.
The youthful rustic had great integrity, great kind
ness of heart, and was a lad of excellent sense. He
was florid, well-proportioned, and the goodness of his
disposition made his manners amiable. Accom:
plishments greater than these she had never seen in
human form, since the death of her father In fact,


304
ADVENTURES OF
hot aided by insuhside into sin's capable, she refine.
she is scarcely to he considered as a sufferer in this
instance ; since, in her forlorn and destitate condi-
tion, it is little probable, when we consider the ha-
hits and notions that now prevail, that her accom-
plishments, unassisted by fortune, would have pro.
cured her an equal alliance in marriage.
When she became a mother, her heart opened to a
new affection. The new idea now presented itself,
which had never occurred hefore, that, in her chil-
dren at least, she might find the partners and com-
panions of her favourite employments. She was, at
the time of my arrival, mother of four, the eldest of
which was a son. To all of them she had been a
most assiduous instructor. It was well for her per-
haps, that she obtained this sphere for the exercise
of her mind. It came, just at the period when the
charm which human life derives from novelty, is he-
ginning to wear off. It gave her new activity and
animation. It is perhaps impossible, that the refine-
ments of which human nature is capable, should not,
after a time, subside into sluggishness, if they he
not aided by the influence of society and affection.
The son of the Welch farmer by this admirable
woman, was about seventeen years of age, at the
time of my settlement in their neighbourhood. His
eldest sister was one year younger than himself. The
whole family composed a groupe, with which a lover
of tranquillity and virtue would have delighted to as-
sociate in any situation. It is easy therefore to con-
ceive how much I rejoiced in their friendship, in this
distant retirement, and suffering, as I felt myself,
from the maltreatment and desertion of my species.
The amiable Laura had a wonderful quickness of eye,
and rapidity of apprehension; but this feature in her
countenance was subdued hy a sweetness of dispo-
sition, such as I never, in any other instance, saw
expressed in the looks of a human being. She soor
distinguished me by her kindness and friendship; for,
living as she had done, though familiar with the writ
ten productions of a cultivated intellect, she had ne
ver seen the thing itself realised in a living being
except in the person of her father. She delighted to
converse with me upon subjects of literature and taste.
and she eagerly invited my assistance in the educa
tion of her children. The son, though young, har
been so happily improved and instructed by his mo
ther, that I found in him nearly all the most essential


306
ADVENTURES OF
collecting, was disposed to yield hut a small degree
of credit to, the menaces of Mr. Falkland.
One day, that I was sitting alone with the accom-
plished Laura, she repeated his all-dreadful name.
I started with astonishinent, amazed that a woman
like this, who knew nobody, who lived as it were
alone, in a corner of the universe, who had never,
in a single instance, entered into any fashionable cir-
cle, this admirable and fascinating hermit, should by
some imaccountable accident, have become acquaint.
ed with this fatal and tremendous name. Astonish.
ment, however, was not my only sensation. I be.
came pale with terror; I rose from my seat; I at-
tempted to sit down again; I reeled out of the room.
and hastened to bury myself in solitude. The uper
pectedness of the incident, took from me all pre-
cantion, and overwhelmed my faculties. The pene.
trating Laura observed my behaviour ; but nothing
further occurring to excite her attention to it at that
time, and concluding from my manner that enquiry
would be painful to me, she humanely suppressed her
curiosity.
I afterwards found that Mr. Falkland had been
known to the father of Laura; that he had been ac.
quainted with the story of connt Malvesi, and a
number of other transactions, redounding in the high-
est degree to the credit of the gallant Englishman.
The Neapolitan had left letters in which these trans-
actions were recorded, and which spoke of Mr. Falk-
land in the highest terms of panegyric. Laura had
been used to regard every little relic of her father
with a sort of religious veneration; and, by this acci.
dent, the name of Mr. Falkland was connected in
her mind, with the sentiments of unbounded esteem.
· The scene by which I was surrounded was per-
haps more grateful to me, than it would have been to
most other persons with my degree of intellectual cnl.
tivation. Sore with persecution and distress, and
bleeding at almost every vein, there was nothing I so y
much coveted as rest and tranquillity. It seemed as
if my faculties were, at least for the time, exhausted
by the late preternatural intensity of their exertions,
and that they stood indispensibly in need of a period
of comparative snspension.
This was however but a temporary feeling. My mind |
had always heen active, and I was probably indehted
to the sufferings I had endured, and the exquisite and


CALEB WILLIAMS.
307
a
increased susceptibility they produced, for new ener-
gies. I soon felt the desire of some additional and
a vigorous pursuit. In this state of mind, 1 met hy
y accident, in a neglected corner of the house of one
Till of my neighbours, with a general dictionary of four
11 of the northern languages. This incident gave a di
rection to my thoughts. In my yonth I had not heen
inattentive to languages. I determined to attempt, at
broll least for my own use, an etymological analysis of the
English language. I easily perceived that this pur.
to suit had one advantage to a person in my situation,
1 and that a small number of books, consulted with
this view, would afford employment for a consider.
able time. I procured other dictionaries. In my in
he cidental reading, I noted the manner in which words
were used, and applied these remarks to the illus-
tration of my general enquiry. I was unintermitted
in my assiduity, and my collections promised to ac-
cumulate. Thus I was provided with sources both of
industry and recreation, the more completely to di-
vert my thoughts from the recollection of my past
misfortunes.
heb. In this state, so grateful to my feelings, week after
week glided away without interruption and alarm.
The situation in which I was now placed, had some
reremblance to that in which I had spent my earlier
years, with the advantage of a more attractive so-
ciety, and a riper judgment. I began to look hack
upon the intervening period, as upon a distempered
and tormenting dream; or rather perhaps my feelings
were like those of a man recovered from an interval
of raging delirium, from ideas of horror, confusion,
flight, persecution, agony and despair! When I re-
collected what I had undergone, it was not without
satisfaction, as the recollection of a thing that was
past; every day augmented my hope that it was never
to return. Surely the dark and terrific menaces of
Mr. Falkland were rather the perturbed suggestions
of his angry mind, than the final result of a delibe-
rate and digested system! How happy obould I feel,
heyond the ordinary lot of man, if, after the terrors
I had undergone, I should now find myself unexpect-
edly restored to the immunities of a himan being !
While I was thus soothing my mind with fond ima.
ginations, it happened that a few bricklayers and
their labourers came over from a distance of five or
six miles, to work npon some additions to one of the


* 308
ADVENTURES OF
better sort of houses in the town, which had changed
its tenant. No incident could be more trivial than
this, had it not been for a strange coincidence of time
between this circumstance, and a change which is
troduced itself into my sitaation. This first man
fested itself in a sort of shyness with which I was
treated, first by one person, and then another of my
new-formed acquaintance. They were back wardt)
enter into conversation with me, and answered m
enquiries with an auk ward and embarrassed air. )
When they met nie in the street or the field, ther
countenance contracted a cloud, and they endea
voured to shun me. My scholars quitted me one after
another, and I had no longer any employment in my
mechanical profession. It is impossible to describe
the sensations which the gradual, but uninterrupted
progress of this revolution produced in my mind. It
seemed as if I had some contagious disease, from
which every man shrunk with alarm, and left me to
perish unassisted and alone. I asked one man and
another to explain to me the meaning of these appear.
ances ; but every one avoided the task, and answer-
ed in an evasive and ambiguous manner. I some
times supposed that it was all a delusion of the ima-
gination; till the repetition of the sensation, brought
the reality too painfully home to my apprehension.
There are few things that give a greater shock to the
mind, than a phenomenon in the conduct of our fellow
men, of great importance to our concerns, and for
which we are unable to assign any plausible reason.
At times I was half inclined to believe that the
change was not in other men, but that some aliena.
tion of my own understanding generated the horrid
vision. I endeavoured to avvake from my dream, anu
return to my former state of enjoyment and happiness;
but in vain. To the same consideration it may be
ascribed, that, unacquainted with the source of the
evil, observing its perpetual increase, and finding it,
80 far as I could perceive, entirely arbitrary in its
nature, I was unable to ascertain its limits, or the
degree in which it would finally overwhelin me.
In the midst, however, of the wonderful and seem
ingly inexplicable nature of this scene, there was one
idea that instantly obtruded itself, and thai I could
never after banish from my hand. It is Falkland!
In vain I struggled against the seeming improbability
of the supposition. In vain I said, Mr. Falkland,


CALEB WILLIAMS.
311
and in spite of her coldness, to have an explanation
with her. I did not despair of conquering the anti-
pathy she harboured. I did not doubt, that I wouid
ronse her from the vulgar and unworthy conception,
of condemning a man, in points the most material to
his happiness, without stating the accusations that are
urged against him, and without hearing him in reply.
Though I had no doubt, by means of resolution, of
gaining access to her in her honge, yet I preferred.
taking her unprepared, and not warmed against me
by any previous contention. Accordingly the next;
morning, at the time she usually devoted to half an
hour's air and exercise, I hastened to her garden,
leaped the paling, and concealed myself in an arhour.
Presently I saw, from my retreat, the yonuger part of
the family, strolling thro.rh tré garden, and from
thence into the fields; bnt it was not my business to
be seen in them. I looked after them, however, with
and earnestness, unobserved ; and I could not help ask..
ing myself, with a deep and heart-felt sigh, whether
2h it were possible that I saw them now for the last time?
They had not advanced far into the fields, before
their mother made her appearance. I observed in
her her nsyal serenity and sweetness of countenance.
J conld feel my heart knocking against my ribs. My
whole frame was in a tumult. I stole out of the ar-
bour; and, as I advanced nearer, my pace became
quickened.
For God's sake, madam, exclaimed I, give me a.
men hearing ! Do not avoid me!
b She stood still. No, sir, she replied, I shall not
avoid you. I wished you to dispense with this meet.
ing. But, since I cannot obtain that,-I am con-
scious of no wrong; and therefore, though the meet-
50" ing gives me pain, it inspires me with no fear.
Oh, madam, answered I, my friend! the object of
all my reverence! whom I once ventured to call, my
mother! Can you wish not to hear me? Can your
have no anxiety for my justification, whatever may be
the unfavourable impression you may have receiver
against me ?
'Not an atom. I have neither wish nor inclinatinn
to hear you. That tale which, in its plain and un-,
adorned state, is destrnctive of the character of hiin to,
whom it relates, no colouring can make an honest one.
Good God! Cay you think of condemning a man,
when yon have heard only one side of his story ? .
en


al2
ADVENTURES OF
Indeed I can, replied she, with indignity. The
maxim of hearing both sides may be very well in
tome cases ; but it would be ridiculous to suppose that
there are not other cases, that, at the first mention,
ire too clear to admit the shadow of a doubt. By a
well-concerted defence you may give me new reason
to admire your abilities; but l-am acquainted with
thein already. I can admire your abilities, without
tolerating your character.
Madam! Amiable, exemplary Laura ! whom, in
the midst of all your harshness and inflexibility, I
honour! I conjure you, by every thing that is sacred,
to tell me what it is that has filled you with this sud-
den aversion to me.
No, sir: that you shall never obtain from me. I
have nothing to say to you. I stand still and hear
you; because virtue disdains to appear abashed and
confounded in the presence of vice. Your conduct
even at this moment, in my opinion, condemns you.
True virtue refuses the drudgery of explanation and
apology. True virtue shines by its own light, and
needs no art to set it off. You have the first princi-
ples of morality as yet to learn.
And can you imagine, that the most upright con-
duct, is always superior to the danger of ambiguity ?
Exactly so. Virtue, sir, consists in actions, and
not in words. The good man and the bad, are cha.
racters precisely opposite, not characters distinguish-
ed from each other by imperceptible shades. The
Providence that rules us all, has not permitted as to
be left without a clue is the most important of all
questions. Eloquence msy seek to confound it; but
it shall be .my care to avoid its deceptive influence.
I do not wish to bave my understanding perverted,
and all the differences of things concealed from my
apprehension.
Nadam, madam! It would be impossible for you <
to hold this language, if you had not always lived ir
this obscure retreat, if you had ever been conversant
with the passions and institutions of men.
It may be so. And, if that be the case. I hav
great reason to be thankful to my God, who has thu
enabled me, to preserve the innocence of my heart
and the integrity of my understanding.
Can you believe then, that ignorance is the only, o
the safest, preservative of integrity ?
Sir, I told you at first, and I repeat to you agai


CALEB WILLIAMS
313
that all your declamation is in vain. I wish you would
have saved me and yourself, that pain which is the
i only thing that can possibly result from it. But let us
sappose that virtue could ever be the amphibious
i thing you would have me believe. Is it possible, if
you had been honest, that you would not bave ac-
to guainted me with your story? Is it possible, that
vou would have left me to have been informed of it
by a mere accident, and with all the shocking aga
ang gravations you well knew that accident would give
it? Is it possible you should have violated the most
sacred of all trusts, and have led me unknowingly
to admit to the intercourse of my children, a cha-
racter, which if, as you pretend, it is substantially
honest, you cannot deny to be blasted and branded
in the face of the whole world ? Go, sir, I dess
pise you. You are a monster, and not a man. I
cannot tell whether my personal situation inisleads
me, but, to my thinking, this last action of yours is
worse than all the rest. Nature has constituted me
the protector of my children. I shall always re-
member and resent the indelible injury you have
done them. You have wounded me to the very heart,
and have taught me to what a pitch the villainy of man
can extend. .
Madam, I can be silent no longer. I see that you
have by some means come to a hearing of the story
of Mr. Falkland.
I have. I am astonished you have the effrontry to
pronounce his name. That name has been a deno-
mination, as far back as my memory can reach, for
the most exalted of mortals, the wisest and most ge-
perous of men.
Madam, I owe it to myself to set you right on this
subject. Mr. Falkland-
Mr. Williams, I see my chilaren Fruumw5
my children returning from
the fields, and coming this way. The basest action
you ever did, was the obtruding yourself upon them
as an instructor. I insist that you see them no more.
I command you to he silent. I command you to
withdraw. If you persist in your absurd resolution
of expostulating with me, you must take some other
time.
I could continue no longer. I was in a manner
heart broken through the whole of this dialogue. I
could not think of protracting the pain of this admi.
rable woman, upon whom, though I was innocent of


314
ADVENTURES OF
re
со
th
ne
W
of
ca
the crimes she impated to me, I had inflicted so much
pain already. I yielded to the imperioasness of ber
commands, and withdrew.
I hastened, without knowing why, from the pre-
sence of Laura, to niy own habitation. Upon enter
ing the house, an apartment of which I occupied, 1
found it totally deserted of its usual inhabitants. The
woman and her children were gone to enjoy the fresh
ness of the breeze. The husband was engaged in
his usual out door occupations. The doors of per
sons of the lo ver order in this part of the countri,
are secured, in the day-time, only with a latch. I
entered, and went into the kitchen of the family.
Here, as I looked round, my eyes accidentally glaz.
ced upon a paper lying in one corner, which, by some
association I was unable to explain, roused in me a
strong sensation of suspicion and curiosity. I eagerly
went towards it, caught it up, and found it to he the
very paper of the WONDERFUL AND SURPRISING HUS-
TORY OF CALEB WILLIAMS, the discovery of which,
towards the close of my residence in London, had
produced in me such inexpressible angaish.
This encounter at once cleared up all the mystery
that hung upon my late transactions. Abhorred and
intolerable certainty, succeeded to the doubts which
had haunted my mind. It struck me with the rapi.
dity of lightning. I felt a sudden torpor and sickness
that pervaded every fibre of my frame.
Was there no hope that remained for me? Was
acquittal useless ? Was there no period, past or in
prospect, that could give relief to my sufferings?
Was the odious and atrocious falshood that had been
invented against me, to follow me wherever I went,
to strip me of character, to deprive me of the sym-
pathy and good will of mankind, to wrest from me the
very bread hy which life must be sustained ?
For the space perhaps of half an hour, the agony
I felt from this termination to my tranquillity, and the
expectation it excited of the enmity which would fol.
low me through every retreat, was such as to hereave
me of all consistent thinking, much more of the
power of coming to any resolution. As soon as this
giddiness and horror of the mind subsided; and the
deadly calm that invaded my faculties was no more,
one stiff and master gale gained the ascendancy, and
drove me to an instant desertion of this late cherished
retreat. I had no patience to enter into further ree
an
ola
no
fror
dra
the
upe
my
rag
ert
OCC
mig
dari
can
taire
ren


316
ADVENTURES OF
the deepest impression upon my mind, was my sepa-
ration from the family of Lanra. Fool that I was,
to imagine that there was any room for me in the
abodes of friendship and tranquillity! It was now
first that I felt, with the most intolerable acuteness,
bow completely I was cut off from the whole human
species. Other connections I had gained, compara.
tively without interest; and I saw them dissolved,
without the consummation of agony. I had never
experienced the purest refinements of friendship, but
in two instances, that of Collins, and this of the fa.
mily of Laura. Solitude, separation, banishment!
These are words often in the mouths of human beings;
but few men, except myself, have felt the full lati-
tude of their meaning. The pride of philosophy has
taught us to treat man as an individual. He is no such
thing. He holds, necessarily, indispensibly, to his
species. He is like those twin-births, that have two
heads indeed, and four hands; but, if you attempt
to detach them from each other, they are inevitably
subjected to miserable and lingering destruction.
It was this circumstance, more than all the rest,
that gradually gorged my heart with abhorrence of
Mr. Falkland. I could not think of his name, but
with a sickness and a loathing, that seemed more than
human. It was by his means, that I suffered the loss of
one consolation after another, of every thing that was
happiness, or that had the resemblance of happiness.
The writing of these memoirs served me as a source
of avocation for several years. For some time I had
a melancholy satisfaction in it. I was better pleased
to retrace the particulars of calamities that had for
merly afllicted me, than to look forward, as at other
times I was too apt to do, to those by which I might
hereafter be overtaken. I conceived that my story
faithfully digested, would carry in it an impression of
truth that few men would be able to resist; or, at
worst, that, by leaving it behind me when I should
no longer continue to exist, posterity might be induced
to do me justice, and, seeing in my example what
sort of evils are entailed upon mankind by society as
it is at present constituted, might be inclined to turn
their attention upon the fountain, from which such
bitter waters have heen accustomed to flow. But
these motives have diminished in their influence. I
have contracted a disgúst for life and all its appen-
dages. Writing, which was at first a pleasure, is


CALEB WILLIAMS.
317
changed into a burthen. I shall compress into a small
i compass what remains to be told.
I discovered, not long after the period of which I
am speaking, the precise canse of the reverse I had
experienced in my residence in Wales, and, included
in that cause, what it was I had to look for in my fu-
ture adventures. Mr. Falkland had taken the infer-
pal Gines into his pay, a man critically qualified for
the service in which he was now engaged, by the un-
feeling brutality of his temper, by his habits of mind
at once andacious and artful, and by the peculiar ani-
mosity and vengeance he had conceived against me.
The employment to which this man was hired, was
that of following me from place to place, blasting my
reputation, and preventing me from the chance, by
continuing long in one residence, of acquiring a cha-
racter of integrity, that should give new weight to
any accusation I might at a future time be induced to
prefer. He had come to the seat of my residence
with the bricklayers and labourers I have mentioned,
and, while he took care to keep out of sight, so far
as related to me, was industrious in disseminating
that which, in the eye of the world, seemed to amount
to a demonstration of the profligacy and detestable-
ness of my character. It was, no doubt, from him
that the detested scroll had been procnred, which I
had found in my habitation immediately prior to my
quitting it In all this Mr. Falkland, reasoning upon
his principles, was only employing a necessary pre-
caution. There was something in the temper of his
mind, that impressed him with aversion to the idea
of violently putting an end to my existence; at the
same time that unfortunately he could never deem
himself sufficiently secured against my recrimination,
so long as I remained alive. °As to the fact of Gines
being retained by him for this tremendous purpose,
he by no means desired that it should become gene-
rally known; but neither did he look upon the possi-
bility of its being known, with terror. It was already
too notorious for his wishes, that I had advanced the
most odious charges against him. If he regarded me
with abhorrence as the adversary of his fame, those
persons who had had occasion to be in any degree
acquainted with our history, did not entertain less ab-
horrence against me for my own sake. If they should
e at any time know the pains he exerted in causing my
evil reputation to follow me, they would cousider it
Tt


CALEB WILLIAMS. 319
happy eñough to attain so much as that shadowy gra.
tification. I spent some years in this dreadful vicis.
situde of pain. My sensations at certain periods
amounted to insanity.
pursued in every succeeding instance the conduct
I had adopted at first. I determined never to enter
into a contest of accusation and defence with the ex-
af ecrable Gines. If I could have submitted to it in
to other respects, what purpose would it answer? I
129 should have but an imperfect and mutilated story to
tell. This story had succeeded with persons already
prepossessed in my favour hy personal intercourse;
but could it sncceed with strangers ? It had succeeded
18 so long as I was able to hide myself from my pursu-
ters; but could it succeed, now that this appeared
impraticable, and that they proceeded by arming
Date against me a whole vicinity at once ?
so "It is inconceivable the mischiefs that this kind of
existence included. Why should I insist upon such
aggravations as hunger, heggary, and external wretch-
edness? These were an inevitable consequence. It
was by the desertion of mankind that, in each suc-
cessive instance, I was made acquainted with my
fote. Delay in such a moment served but to increase
the evil; and, when I fled, meagreness and penury
were the ordinary attendants of my course. But this
was a small consideration. Indignation at one time,
and unconquerable perseverance at another, sustained
me, where humanity, left to itself, would probably
have sunk.
It has already appeared, that I was not of a ten-
per to endure calamity, without endeavouring, by
every means I could devise, to elude and disarm it.
Recollecting, as I was habituated to do, the various
projects by which my situation could be meliorated,
The question occurred to me: Why should I be har-
rassed by the pursuit of this Gines? Why, man to
man, may I not, by the powers of my mind, attain
the ascendancy over him ? At present he appears to
be the persecutor, and I the persecuted: is not this
difference the mere creature of the imagination ? May
I not employ my ingenuity to vex him with difficulties;
and laugh at the endless labour to which he will be
condemned ?
Alas, this is a speculation for a mind at ease! It
is not the persecution ; but the catastrophe which is
andexed to it that makes the difference between the
b


324
ADVENTURES OF
my habits of thinking. I regard you as vicious ; but
I do not consider the vicious as proper objects of in-
dignation and scorn. I consider you as a machine:
you are not constituted, I am afraid, to he greatly
useful to your fellow men; but you did not make
yourself; you are just what circumstances irresistibly
compelled you to be. I am sorry for your ill proper.
ties; but I entertain no enmity against you, nothing
but benevolence. Considering you in the light in
which I at present consider you, I am ready to con.
tribute every thing in my power to your real advar-
tage, and would gladly assist you, if I knew how,
in detecting and extirpating the errors that have mis-
led you. You have disappointed me, but I have no
reproaches to utter: it is more necessary for me to
feel compassion for you, than that I should accumulate
your misfortune by my censures.
What could I say to such a man as this? Amiable,
incomparable man! Never was my mind more pain-
fully divided than at that moment. The more he ex.
cited my admiration, the more imperiously did my
heart command me, whatever were the price it should
cost, to extort his friendship. I was persuaded that
severe duty required of him, that he should reject all
personal considerations, that he should proceed re-
solutely to the investigation of the truth, and that, if !
he found the result terminating in my favour, he
should resign all his advantages, and, deserted as I
was by the world, make a common cause, and en-
deavonr to compensate the general injustice. But
was it for me to force this conduct upon him, if, now
in his declining years, his own fortitude shrunk from
it? Alas, neither he nor I foresaw the dreadful ca-
tastrophe that was so closely impending! Otherwise.
I am well assured, that no tenderness for his remain-
ing tranquillity would have withheld him from a com-
pliance with my wishes ! On the other hand, could I
pretend to know what evils might result to him from
his declaring himself my advocate ? Might not bis
integrity be brow-beaten and defeated as mine had
been? Did the imbecility of his grey hairs afford no
advantage to my terrible adversary in the contest ?
Might not Mr. Falkland reduce him to a condition
as wretched and low as mine? After all, was it not
vice lo me to desire to involve another man in my snf-
ferings? If I regarded them as intolerable, this was
still an ad-litional reason why I should hear them
alone


CALEB WILLIAMS
325
Influenced by these considerations, I assented to
his views. I assented to be thought hardly of by the
man in the world whose. esteem I most ardently de-
18 sired, rather than involve him in possible calamity.
I assented to the resigning what appeared to me, at
that moment, as the last practicable comfort of my
1748 life, a comfort, upon the thought of which, while I
Blip surrendered it, my mind dwelt with undescribable
longings. Mr. Collins was deeply affected with the
ir apparent ingenuousness with which I expressed my
buy feelings. The secret struggle of his mind was, Can
toile this be hypocrisy? The individual with whom I am
font conferring, if virtuous, is one of the most disinter-
** estedly virtuous persons in the world. We tore our-
si selves from each other. Mr. Collins promised, as
far as he was able, to have an eye upon my vicissi-
Brilli tades, and to assist me, in every respect, that was
consistent with a just recollection of consequences.
Thus I parted as it were with the last expiring hope
B of my mind ; and voluntarily consented, thus maimed
pens and forlorn, to encounter all the evils that were yet
f in store for me.
This is the latest event, which at present I think
* it necessary to record. Í shall doubtless hereafter
have further occasion to take up the pen. Great and
propone unprecedented as my sufferings have been, I feel in-
timately persuaded that there are worse sufferings
file that await me. What mysterious cause is it, that en-
ables me to write this, and not to perish under the
horrible apprehension !
It is as I foreboded. The presage with which I
was visited was prophetic. I am now to record a
new and terrible revolution of my fortune and my
mind.
Having made experiment of various situations with
one uniform result, I at length determined to remove
myself, if possible, from the reach of my persecutor,
by going into voluntary banishment from my native
soil. This was my last resource for tranquillity, for
honest fame, for those privileges to which human life
is indebted for the whole of its value. In some dis.
tant climate, said I, surely I may find that security
which is necessary to persevering pursuit; surely I
may lift my head erect, associate with men upon the
footing of a man, acquire connections, and preserve
them! It is inconceivable, with what ardent reach, .
s ings of the soul I aspired to this termination ;
Uu


826
ADVENTURES OF
This last copsolation was denied me by the inexo-
rubie Falkland.
· At the time the project was formed, I was at no
great distance from the east coast of the island, and
I resolved to take ship at Barwich, and pass imme.
diately into Holland." I accordingly repaired to that
place, and went, almost as soon as I arrived, to the
port. But there was no vessel perfectly ready to
sail. I left the port, and withdrew to an inn, where,
after some time I retired to a chamber. Iwas scarce-
ly there, before the door of the room was opened,
and the man whose countenance was the most hate-
ful to my eyes, Gines entered the apartment. He
shat the door as soon as he entered.
Youngster, said he, I have a little private intelli-
gence to communicate to you. I come as a friend,
and that I may save you a labour in-vain trouble. If
you consider what I have to say in that light, it will
be the better for you. It is my business now, do you
see, for want of a better, to see that you do not
break out of bounds. Not that I much matter having
one man for my employer, or dancing attendance
after another's heels; but I have a special kindness
for you, 'for some good turns that you wot of, and
therefore I do not stand upon ceremonies! You have
led me a very pretty round already; and, out of the
love I bear you, you shall lead me as much further,
if you will. But beware the salt seas! They are out
of my orders. You are a prisoner at present, and I
believe all your life will remain so. Thanks to the
milk-and-water softness of your former master! If I
had the ordering of these things, it should go with
you in another fashion. As long as you think proper,
you are a prisoner within the rules ; and the rules
with which the soft-hearted squire indulges you, are
all England, Scotland and Wales. But you are not
to go out of these climates. The squire is determin-
ed you shall never pass the reach of his disposal.
He has therefore given orders that, whenever you
attempt so to do, you shall be converted, from a
prisoner at large, to a prisoner in good earnest. A
friend of mine followed you just now to the harbour ;
I was within call; and, if there had been any ap-
pearance of your setting your foot from land, we
should have been with you in a trice, and laid you
fast by the heels. I would advise you for the future,
to keep at'a proper distance from the see, for fear of