As to little Harry, he had not the good fortune to please the greater number of the ladies. They observed that he was awkward and ungenteel, and had a heavy, clownish look; he was also silent and reserved, and had not said a single agreeable thing; if Mr Barlow chose to keep a school for carters and threshers, nobody would hinder him, but it was not proper to introduce such vulgar people to the sons of persons of fashion. It was therefore agreed that Mr Barlow ought either to send little Harry home to his friends, or to be no more honoured with the company of Master Merton. Indeed, one of the ladies hinted, that Mr Barlow himself was but "an odd kind of man, who never went to assemblies, and played upon no kind of instrument."
"Why," answered Mrs Merton, "to tell the truth, I was not over fond of the scheme. Mr Barlow, to be sure, though a very good, is a very odd kind of man. However, as he is so disinterested, and would never receive the least present from us, I doubt whether we could with propriety insist upon his turning little Sandford out of the house." "If that is the case, madam," answered Mrs Compton (for that was the name of the lady), "I think it would be infinitely better to remove Master Merton, and place him in some polite seminary, where he might acquire a knowledge of the world, and make genteel connections. This will always be the greatest advantage to a young gentleman, and will prove of the most essential service to him in life; for, though a person has all the merit in the world, without such acquaintance it will never push him forward, or enable him to make a figure. This is the plan which I have always pursued with Augustus and Matilda; I think I may say not entirely without success, for they have both the good fortune to have formed the most brilliant acquaintances. As to Augustus, he is so intimate with young Lord Squander, who you know is possessed of the greatest parliamentary interest, that I think that his fortune is as good as made."
Miss Simmons, who was present at this refined and wise conversation, could not help looking with so much significance at this mention of Lord Squander, that Mrs Compton coloured a little, and asked with some warmth, whether she knew anything of that young nobleman.
"Why, madam," answered the young lady, "what I know is very little; but if you desire me to inform you, it is my duty to speak the truth." "Oh, to be sure, miss," replied Mrs Compton, a little angrily, "we all know that your judgment and knowledge of the world are superior to what anybody else can boast; and therefore I shall be infinitely obliged to you for any information you may be pleased to give." "Indeed, madam," answered the young lady, "I have very little of either to boast, nor am I personally acquainted with the nobleman you are talking of; but I have a cousin, a very good boy, who is at the same public school with his lordship, and he has given me such a character of him as does not much prepossess me in his favour." "And what may this wise cousin of yours have said of his lordship?" "Only, madam, that he is one of the worst boys in the whole school; that he has neither genius nor application for anything that becomes his rank and situation; that he has no taste for anything but gaming, horse-racing, and the most contemptible amusements; that, though his allowance is large, he is continually running in debt with everybody that will trust him; and that he has broken his word so often that nobody has the least confidence in what he says. Added to this, I have heard that he is so haughty, tyrannical, and overbearing, that nobody can long preserve his friendship without the meanest flattery and subservience to all his vicious inclinations; and, to finish all, that he is of so ungrateful a temper, that he was never known to do an act of kindness to any one, or to care about anything but himself."
Here Miss Matilda could not help interposing with warmth. She said, "that his lordship had nothing in his character or manners that did not perfectly become a nobleman of the most elevated soul. Little grovelling minds, indeed, which are always envious of their superiors, might give a disagreeable turn to the generous openness of this young nobleman's temper. That, as to gaming and running in debt, they were so essential to a man of fashion, that nobody who was not born in the city, and oppressed by city prejudices, would think of making the least objection to them." She then made a panegyric upon his lordship's person, his elegant taste and dress, his new phaeton, his entertaining conversation, his extraordinary performance upon the violin; and concluded that, with such abilities and accomplishments, she did not doubt of one day seeing him at the head of the nation.
Miss Simmons had no desire of pushing the conversation any farther; and the rest of the company coming in to tea, the disquisition about Lord Squander finished.
After tea, several of the young ladies were desired to amuse the company with music and singing; among the rest Miss Simmons sang a little Scotch song, called Lochaber, in so artless, but sweet and pathetic a manner, that little Harry listened almost with tears in his eyes, though several of the young ladies, by their significant looks and gestures, treated it with ineffable contempt.
After this, Miss Matilda, who was allowed to be a perfect mistress of music, played and sang several celebrated Italian airs; but as these were in a lan
guage totally unintelligible to Harry, he received very little pleasure, though all the rest of the company were in raptures. She then proceeded to play several pieces of music, which were allowed by all connoisseurs to require infinite skill to execute. The audience seemed all delighted, and either felt or pretended to feel inexpressible pleasure; even Tommy himself, who did not know one note from another, had caught so much of the general enthusiasm, that he applauded as loud as the rest of the company. But Harry, whose temper was not quite so pliable, could not conceal the intolerable weariness that overpowered his senses during this long exhibition. He gaped, he yawned, he stretched, he even pinched himself, in order to keep his attention alive, but all in vain; the more Miss Matilda exercised her skill in playing pieces of the most difficult execution, the more did Harry's propensity to drowsiness increase. At length the lateness of the hour, which much exceeded Harry's time of going to bed, conspiring with the opiate charms of music, he could resist no longer, but insensibly fell back upon his chair fast asleep. This unfortunate accident was soon remarked by the rest of the company, and confirmed them very much in the opinion they had conceived of Harry's vulgarity; while he, in the meantime, enjoyed the most placid slumber, which was not dissipated till Miss Matilda had desisted from playing.
Thus was the first day passed at Mr Merton's, very little to the satisfaction of Harry; the next, and the next after, were only repetitions of the same scene. The little gentry, whose tastes and manners were totally different from his, had now imbibed a