Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress Volume III Part 18

"Shan't get into mine!" returned Briggs, "promise him that! don't half like him; be bound he's an old sharper."

Cecilia, mean time, enquired what he desired to have.

"Half a guinea," he answered.

"Will that do?"

"For those who have nothing," said he, "it is much. Hereafter, you may a.s.sist them again. Go but and see their distresses, and you will wish to give them every thing."

Mr Briggs now, when actually between her fingers he saw the half guinea, could contain no longer; he twitched the sleeve of her gown, and pinching her arm, with a look of painful eagerness, said in a whisper "Don't give it! don't let him have it! chouse him, chouse him! nothing but an old bite!"

"Pardon me, Sir," said Cecilia, in a low voice, "his character is very well known to me." And then, disengaging her arm from him, she presented her little offering.

At this sight, Mr Briggs was almost outrageous, and losing in his wrath, all fear of the stranger, he burst forth with fury into the following outcries, "Be ruined! see it plainly; be fleeced! be stript! be robbed!

won't have a gown to your back! won't have a shoe to your foot! won't have a rag in the world! be a beggar in the street! come to the parish!

rot in a jail!--half a guinea at a time!--enough to break the Great Mogul!"

"Inhuman spirit of selfish parsimony!" exclaimed Albany, "repinest thou at this loan, given from thousands to those who have worse than nothing?

who pay to-day in hunger for bread they borrowed yesterday from pity?

who to save themselves from the deadly pangs of famine, solicit but what the rich know not when they possess, and miss not when they give?"

"Anan!" cried Briggs, recovering his temper from the perplexity of his understanding, at a discourse to which his ears were wholly unaccustomed, "what d'ye say?"

"If to thyself distress may cry in vain," continued Albany, "if thy own heart resists the suppliant's prayer, callous to entreaty, and hardened in the world, suffer, at least, a creature yet untainted, who melts at sorrow, and who glows with charity, to pay from her vast wealth a generous tax of thankfulness, that fate has not reversed her doom, and those whom she relieves, relieve not her!"

"Anan!" was again all the wondering Mr Briggs could say.

"Pray, ma'am," said Mr Hobson, to Cecilia, "if it's no offence, was the Gentleman ever a player?"

"I fancy not, indeed!"

"I ask pardon, then, ma'am; I mean no harm; but my notion was the gentleman might be speaking something by heart."

"Is it but on the stage, humanity exists?" cried Albany, indignantly; "Oh thither hasten, then, ye monopolizers of plenty! ye selfish, unfeeling engrossers of wealth, which ye dissipate without enjoying, and of abundance, which ye waste while ye refuse to distribute! thither, thither haste, if there humanity exists!"

"As to engrossing," said Mr Hobson, happy to hear at last a word with which he was familiar, "it's what I never approved myself. My maxim is this; if a man makes a fair penny, without any underhand dealings, why he has as much a t.i.tle to enjoy his pleasure as the Chief Justice, or the Lord Chancellor: and it's odds but he's as happy as a greater man.

Though what I hold to be best of all, is a clear conscience, with a neat income of 2 or 3000 a year. That's my notion; and I don't think it's a bad one."

"Weak policy of short-sighted ignorance!" cried Albany, "to wish for what, if used, brings care, and if neglected, remorse! have you not now beyond what nature craves? why then still sigh for more?"

"Why?" cried Mr Briggs, who by dint of deep attention began now better to comprehend him, "why to buy in, to be sure! ever hear of stocks, eh?

know any thing of money?"

"Still to make more and more," cried Albany, "and wherefore? to spend in vice and idleness, or h.o.a.rd in chearless misery! not to give succour to the wretched, not to support the falling; all is for self, however little wanted, all goes to added stores, or added luxury; no fellow-creature served, nor even one beggar relieved!"

"Glad of it!" cried Briggs, "glad of it; would not have 'em relieved; don't like 'em; hate a beggar; ought to be all whipt; live upon spunging."

"Why as to a beggar, I must needs say," cried Mr Hobson, "I am by no means an approver of that mode of proceeding; being I take 'em all for cheats: for what I say is this, what a man earns, he earns, and it's no man's business to enquire what he spends, for a free-born Englishman is his own master by the nature of the law, and as to his being a subject, why a duke is no more, nor a judge, nor the Lord High Chancellor, and the like of those; which makes it tantamount to nothing, being he is answerable to n.o.body by the right of Magna Charta: except in cases of treason, felony, and that. But as to a beggar, it's quite another thing; he comes and asks me for money; but what has he to shew for it? what does he bring me in exchange? why a long story that he i'n't worth a penny! what's that to me? nothing at all. Let every man have his own; that's my way of arguing."

"Ungentle mortals!" cried Albany, "in wealth exulting; even in inhumanity! think you these wretched outcasts have less sensibility than yourselves? think you, in cold and hunger, they lose those feelings which even in voluptuous prosperity from time to time disturb you? you say they are all cheats? 'tis but the n.i.g.g.ard cant of avarice, to lure away remorse from obduracy. Think you the naked wanderer begs from choice? give him your wealth and try."

"Give him a whip!" cried Briggs, "sha'n't have a souse! send him to Bridewell! nothing but a pauper; hate 'em; hate 'em all! full of tricks; break their own legs, put out their arms, cut off their fingers, snap their own ancles,--all for what? to get at the c.h.i.n.k! to chouse us of cash! ought to be well flogged; have 'em all sent to the Thames; worse than the Convicts."

"Poor subterfuge of callous cruelty! you cheat yourselves, to shun the fraud of others! and yet, how better do you use the wealth so guarded?

what n.o.bler purpose can it answer to you, than even a chance to s.n.a.t.c.h some wretch from sinking? think less how _much_ ye save, and more for _what_; and then consider how thy full coffers may hereafter make reparation, for the empty catalogue of thy virtues."

"Anan!" said Mr Briggs, again lost in perplexity and wonder.

"Oh yet," continued Albany, turning towards Cecilia, "preach not here the hardness which ye practice; rather amend yourselves than corrupt her; and give with liberality what ye ought to receive with grat.i.tude!"

"This is not my doctrine," cried Hobson; "I am not a near man, neither, but as to giving at that rate, it's quite out of character. I have as good a right to my own savings, as to my own gettings; and what I say is this, who'll give to _me_? let me see that, and it's quite another thing: and begin who will, I'll be bound to go on with him, pound for pound, or pence for pence. But as to giving to them beggars, it's what I don't approve; I pay the poor's rate, and that's what I call charity enough for any man. But for the matter of living well, and spending one's money handsomely, and having one's comforts about one, why it's a thing of another nature, and I can say this for myself, and that is, I never grudged myself any thing in my life. I always made myself agreeable, and lived on the best. That's my way."

"Bad way too," cried Briggs, "never get on with it, never see beyond your nose; won't be worth a plum while your head wags!" then, taking Cecilia apart, "hark'ee, my duck," he added, pointing to Albany, "who is that Mr Bounce, eh? what is he?"

"I have known him but a short time, Sir; but I think of him very highly."

"Is he a _good_ man? that's the point, is he a _good_ man?"

"Indeed he appears to me uncommonly benevolent and charitable."

"But that i'n't the thing; is he _warm_? that's the point, is he _warm_?"

"If you mean _pa.s.sionate_," said Cecilia, "I believe the energy of his manner is merely to enforce what he says."

"Don't take me, don't take me," cried he, impatiently; "can come down with the ready, that's the matter; can c.h.i.n.k the little gold boys? eh?"

"Why I rather fear not by his appearance; but I know nothing of his affairs."

"What does come for? eh? come a courting?"

"Mercy on me, no!"

"What for then? only a spunging?"

"No, indeed. He seems to have no wish but to a.s.sist and plead for others."

"All fudge! think he i'n't touched? ay, ay; nothing but a trick! only to get at the c.h.i.n.k: see he's as poor as a rat, talks of nothing but giving money; a bad sign! if he'd got any, would not do it. Wanted to make us come down; warrant thought to bam us all! out there! a'n't so soon gulled."

A knock at the street door gave now a new interruption, and Mr Delvile at length appeared.

Cecilia, whom his sight could not fail to disconcert, felt doubly distressed by the unnecessary presence of Albany and Hobson; she regretted the absence of Mr Monckton, who could easily have taken them away; for though without scruple she could herself have acquainted Mr Hobson she had business, she dreaded offending Albany, whose esteem she was ambitious of obtaining.

Mr Delvile entered the room with an air stately and erect; he took off his hat, but deigned not to make the smallest inclination of his head, nor offered any excuse to Mr Briggs for being past the hour of his appointment: but having advanced a few paces, without looking either to the right or left, said, "as I have never acted, my coming may not, perhaps, be essential; but as my name is in the Dean's Will, and I have once or twice met the other executors mentioned in it, I think it a duty I owe to my own heirs to prevent any possible future enquiry or trouble to them."

This speech was directly addressed to no one, though meant to be attended to by every one, and seemed proudly uttered as a mere apology to himself for not having declined the meeting.

Cecilia, though she recovered from her confusion by the help of her aversion to this self-sufficiency, made not any answer. Albany retired to a corner of the room; Mr Hobson began to believe it was time for him to depart; and Mr Briggs thinking only of the quarrel in which he had separated with Mr Delvile in the summer, stood swelling with venom, which he longed for an opportunity to spit out.

Mr Delvile, who regarded this silence as the effect of his awe-inspiring presence, became rather more complacent; but casting his eyes round the room, and perceiving the two strangers, he was visibly surprised, and looking at Cecilia for some explanation, seemed to stand suspended from the purpose of his visit till he heard one.