These thoughts, however, gave place to more momentous
considerations. I could not imagine to myself a more perfect example of indigence than I
now exhibited. There was no being in the city on whose kindness I had
any claim. Money I had none, and what I then wore comprised my whole
stock of movables. I had just lost my shoes, and this loss rendered my
stockings of no use. My dignity remonstrated against a barefoot
pilgrimage, but to this, necessity now reconciled me. I threw my
stockings between the bars of a stable-window, belonging, as I thought,
to the mansion I had just left. These, together with my shoes, I left to
pay the cost of my entertainment. I saw that the city was no place for me. The end that I had had in view,
of procuring some mechanical employment, could only be obtained by the
use of means, but what means to pursue I knew not. This night's perils
and deceptions gave me a distaste to a city life, and my ancient
occupations rose to my view enhanced by a thousand imaginary charms, I
resolved forthwith to strike into the country. The day began now to dawn. It was Sunday, and I was desirous of eluding
observation. I was somewhat recruited by rest, though the languors of
sleeplessness oppressed me. I meant to throw myself on the first lap of
verdure I should meet, and indulge in sleep that I so much wanted. I
knew not the direction of the streets; but followed that which I first
entered from the court, trusting that, by adhering steadily to one
course, I should some time reach the fields. This street, as I
afterwards found, tended to Schuylkill, and soon extricated me from
houses. I could not cross this river without payment of toll. It was
requisite to cross it in order to reach that part of the country whither
I was desirous of going; but how should I effect my passage? I knew of
no ford, and the smallest expense exceeded my capacity. Ten thousand
guineas and a farthing were equally remote from nothing, and nothing was
the portion allotted to me. While my mind was thus occupied, I turned up one of the streets which
tend northward. It was, for some length, uninhabited and unpaved. Presently I reached a pavement, and a painted fence, along which a row
of poplars was planted. It bounded a garden into which a knot-hole
permitted me to pry. The enclosure was a charming green, which I saw
appended to a house of the loftiest and most stately order. It seemed
like a recent erection, had all the gloss of novelty, and exhibited, to
my unpractised eyes, the magnificence of palaces. My father's dwelling
did not equal the height of one story, and might be easily comprised in
one-fourth of those buildings which here were designed to accommodate
the menials. My heart dictated the comparison between my own condition
and that of the proprietors of this domain. How wide and how impassable
was the gulf by which we were separated! This fair inheritance had
fallen to one who, perhaps, would only abuse it to the purposes of
luxury, while I, with intentions worthy of the friend of mankind, was
doomed to wield the flail and the mattock. I had been entirely unaccustomed to this strain of reflection. My books
had taught me the dignity and safety of the middle path, and my darling
writer abounded with encomiums on rural life. At a distance from luxury
and pomp, I viewed them, perhaps, in a just light. A nearer scrutiny
confirmed my early prepossessions; but, at the distance at which I now
stood, the lofty edifices, the splendid furniture, and the copious
accommodations of the rich excited my admiration and my envy. I relinquished my station, and proceeded, in a heartless mood, along the
fence. I now came to the mansion itself. The principal door was entered
by a staircase of marble. I had never seen the stone of Carrara, and
wildly supposed this to have been dug from Italian quarries. The beauty
of the poplars, the coolness exhaled from the dew-besprent bricks, the
commodiousness of the seat which these steps afforded, and the
uncertainty into which I was plunged respecting my future conduct, all
combined to make me pause. I sat down on the lower step and began to
meditate. By some transition it occurred to me that the supply of my most urgent
wants might be found in some inhabitant of this house. I needed at
present a few cents; and what were a few cents to the tenant of a
mansion like this? I had an invincible aversion to the calling of a
beggar, but I regarded with still more antipathy the vocation of a
thief; to this alternative, however, I was now reduced. I must either
steal or beg; unless, indeed, assistance could be procured under the
notion of a loan. Would a stranger refuse to lend the pittance that I
wanted? Surely not, when the urgency of my wants was explained. I recollected other obstacles. To summon the master of the house from
his bed, perhaps, for the sake of such an application, would be
preposterous. I should be in more danger of provoking his anger than
exciting his benevolence. This request might, surely, with more
propriety be preferred to a passenger. I should, probably, meet several
before I should arrive at Schuylkill. A servant just then appeared at the door, with bucket and brush. This
obliged me, much sooner than I intended, to decamp. With some reluctance
I rose and proceeded. This house occupied the corner of the street, and
I now turned this corner towards the country. A person, at some distance
before me, was approaching in an opposite direction. "Why," said I, "may I not make my demand of the first man I meet? This
person exhibits tokens of ability to lend. There is nothing chilling or
austere in his demeanour." The resolution to address this passenger was almost formed; but the
nearer he advanced my resolves grew less firm. He noticed me not till he
came within a few paces. He seemed busy in reflection; and, had not my
figure caught his eye, or had he merely bestowed a passing glance upon
me, I should not have been sufficiently courageous to have detained him. The event, however, was widely different. He looked at me and started. For an instant, as it were, and till he had
time to dart at me a second glance, he checked his pace. This behaviour
decided mine, and he stopped on perceiving tokens of a desire to address
him. I spoke, but my accents and air sufficiently denoted my
embarrassments:--

"I am going to solicit a favour which my situation makes of the highest
importance to me, and which I hope it will be easy for you, sir, to
grant. It is not an alms, but a loan, that I seek; a loan that I will
repay the moment I am able to do it. I am going to the country, but
have not wherewith to pay my passage over Schuylkill, or to buy a morsel
of bread. May I venture to request of you, sir, the loan of sixpence? As
I told you, it is my intention to repay it." I delivered this address, not without some faltering, but with great
earnestness. I laid particular stress upon my intention to refund the
money. He listened with a most inquisitive air.