I viewed myself as the
most calamitous and desolate of human beings. At this time I was sitting in the common room. There were others in the
same apartment, lounging, or whistling, or singing. I noticed them not,
but, leaning my head upon my hand, I delivered myself up to painful and
intense meditation. From this I was roused by some one placing himself
on the bench near me and addressing me thus:--"Pray, sir, if you will
excuse me, who was the person whom you were looking for just now? Perhaps I can give you the information you want. If I can, you will be
very welcome to it." I fixed my eyes with some eagerness on the person
that spoke. He was a young man, expensively and fashionably dressed,
whose mien was considerably prepossessing, and whose countenance bespoke
some portion of discernment. I described to him the man whom I sought. "I am in search of the same man myself," said he, "but I expect to meet
him here. He may lodge elsewhere, but he promised to meet me here at
half after nine. I have no doubt he will fulfil his promise, so that you
will meet the gentleman." I was highly gratified by this information, and thanked my informant
with some degree of warmth. My gratitude he did not notice, but
continued: "In order to beguile expectation, I have ordered supper;
will you do me the favour to partake with me, unless indeed you have
supped already?" I was obliged, somewhat awkwardly, to decline his
invitation, conscious as I was that the means of payment were not in my
power. He continued, however, to urge my compliance till at length it
was, though reluctantly, yielded. My chief motive was the certainty of
seeing Capper. My new acquaintance was exceedingly conversible, but his conversation
was chiefly characterized by frankness and good-humour. My reserve
gradually diminished, and I ventured to inform him, in general terms, of
my former condition and present views. He listened to my details with
seeming attention, and commented on them with some judiciousness. His
statements, however, tended to discourage me from remaining in the city. Meanwhile the hour passed and Capper did not appear. I noticed this
circumstance to him with no little solicitude. He said that possibly he
might have forgotten or neglected his engagement. His affair was not of
the highest importance, and might be readily postponed to a future
opportunity. He perceived that my vivacity was greatly damped by this
intelligence. He importuned me to disclose the cause. He made himself
very merry with my distress, when it was at length discovered. As to the
expense of supper, I had partaken of it at his invitation; he therefore
should of course be charged with it. As to lodging, he had a chamber and
a bed, which he would insist upon my sharing with him. My faculties were thus kept upon the stretch of wonder. Every new act of
kindness in this man surpassed the fondest expectation that I had
formed. I saw no reason why I should be treated with benevolence. I
should have acted in the same manner if placed in the same
circumstances; yet it appeared incongruous and inexplicable. I know
whence my ideas of human nature were derived. They certainly were not
the offspring of my own feelings. These would have taught me that
interest and duty were blended in every act of generosity. I did not come into the world without my scruples and suspicions. I was
more apt to impute kindnesses to sinister and hidden than to obvious and
laudable motives. I paused to reflect upon the possible designs of this person. What end
could be served by this behaviour? I was no subject of violence or
fraud. I had neither trinket nor coin to stimulate the treachery of
others. What was offered was merely lodging for the night. Was this an
act of such transcendent disinterestedness as to be incredible? My garb
was meaner than that of my companion, but my intellectual
accomplishments were at least upon a level with his. Why should he be
supposed to be insensible to my claims upon his kindness? I was a youth
destitute of experience, money, and friends; but I was not devoid of all
mental and personal endowments. That my merit should be discovered, even
on such slender intercourse, had surely nothing in it that shocked
belief. While I was thus deliberating, my new friend was earnest in his
solicitations for my company. He remarked my hesitation, but ascribed it
to a wrong cause. "Come," said he, "I can guess your objections and can
obviate them. You are afraid of being ushered into company; and people
who have passed their lives like you have a wonderful antipathy to
strange faces; but this is bedtime with our family, so that we can defer
your introduction to them till to-morrow. We may go to our chamber
without being seen by any but servants." I had not been aware of this circumstance. My reluctance flowed from a
different cause, but, now that the inconveniences of ceremony were
mentioned, they appeared to me of considerable weight. I was well
pleased that they should thus be avoided, and consented to go along with
him. We passed several streets and turned several corners. At last we turned
into a kind of court which seemed to be chiefly occupied by stables. "We
will go," said he, "by the back way into the house. We shall thus save
ourselves the necessity of entering the parlour, where some of the
family may still be." My companion was as talkative as ever, but said nothing from which I
could gather any knowledge of the number, character, and condition of
his family. CHAPTER IV. We arrived at a brick wall, through which we passed by a gate into an
extensive court or yard. The darkness would allow me to see nothing but
outlines. Compared with the pigmy dimensions of my father's wooden
hovel, the buildings before me were of gigantic loftiness. The horses
were here far more magnificently accommodated than I had been. By a
large door we entered an elevated hall. "Stay here," said he, "just
while I fetch a light." He returned, bearing a candle, before I had time to ponder on my present
situation. We now ascended a staircase, covered with painted canvas. No one whose
inexperience is less than mine can imagine to himself the impressions
made upon me by surrounding objects. The height to which this stair
ascended, its dimensions, and its ornaments, appeared to me a
combination of all that was pompous and superb. We stopped not till we had reached the third story. Here my companion
unlocked and led the way into a chamber. "This," said he, "is my room;
permit me to welcome you into it." I had no time to examine this room before, by some accident, the candle
was extinguished. "Curse upon my carelessness!" said he. "I must go down
again and light the candle. I will return in a twinkling. Meanwhile you
may undress yourself and go to bed." He went out, and, as I afterwards
recollected, locked the door behind him. I was not indisposed to follow his advice, but my curiosity would first
be gratified by a survey of the room.