Chapter 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAP. VI.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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