perfect contempt for Harry, and it was with great difficulty that they condescended to treat him even with common civility. In this laudable behaviour they were very much confirmed by Master Compton and Master Mash. Master Compton was reckoned a very genteel boy, though all his gentility consisted in a pair of buckles so big that they almost crippled him; in a slender emaciated figure, and a look of consummate impudence. He had almost finished his education at a public school, where he had learned every vice and folly which is commonly taught at such places, without the least improvement either of his character or his understanding. Master Mash was the son of a neighbouring gentleman, who had considerably impaired his fortune by an inordinate love of horse-racing. Having been from his infancy accustomed to no other conversation than about winning and losing money, he had acquired the idea that, to bet successfully, was the summit of all human ambition. He had been almost brought up in the stable, and therefore had imbibed the greatest interest about horses; not from any real affection for that noble animal, but merely because he considered them as engines for the winning of money. He too was now improving his talents by a public education, and longed impatiently for the time when he should be set free from all restraint, and allowed to display the superiority of his genius at Ascot and Newmarket.
These two young gentlemen had conceived the most violent dislike to Harry, and lost no occasion of saying or doing everything they had in their power to mortify him. To Tommy, they were in
the contrary extreme, and omitted no opportunity of rendering themselves agreeable to him. Nor was it long before their forward vivacious manners, accompanied with a knowledge of many of those gay scenes, which acted forcibly upon Tommy's imagination, began to render their conversation highly agreeable. They talked to him about public diversions, about celebrated actresses, about parties of pleasure, and parties of mischief. Tommy began to feel himself introduced to a new train of ideas, and a wider range of conduct; he began to long for the time when he should share in the glories of robbing orchards, or insulting passengers with impunity; but when he heard that little boys, scarcely bigger than himself, had often joined in the glorious project of forming open rebellions against their masters, or of disturbing a whole audience at a playhouse, he panted for the time when he might have a chance of sharing in the fame of such achievements. By degrees he lost all regard for Mr Barlow, and all affection for his friend Harry. At first, indeed, he was shocked at hearing Mr Barlow mentioned with disrespect, but becoming by degrees more callous to every good impression he at last took infinite pleasure in seeing Master Mash (who, though destitute of either wit or genius, had a great taste for mimicry) take off the parson in the middle of his sermon.
Harry perceived and lamented this change in the manners of his friend; he sometimes took the liberty of remonstrating with him upon the subject, but was only answered with a contemptuous sneer; and Master Mash, who happened once to be present, told him that he was a monstrous bore.
It happened that, while Harry was at Mr Merton's, there was a troop of strolling players at a neighbouring town. In order to divert the young gentry, Mr Merton contrived that they should make a party to see a play. They went accordingly, and Harry with the rest. Tommy, who now no longer condescended to take any notice of his friend Harry, was seated between his two new acquaintances, who had become his inseparable companions. These young gentlemen first began to give specimens of their politeness by throwing nuts and orange-peel upon the stage; and Tommy, who was resolved to profit by such an excellent example, threw nuts and orange-peel with infinite satisfaction.
As soon as the curtain drew up, and the actors appeared, all the rest of the audience observed a decent silence; but Mash and Compton, who were now determined to prove the superiority of their manners, began to talk so loud, and make so much noise, that it was impossible for any one near them to hear a word of the play. This also seemed amazingly fine to Tommy; and he too talked and laughed as loud as the rest.
The subject of their conversation was, the audience and the performers; neither of whom these polite young gentlemen found bearable. The company was chiefly composed of the tradesmen of the town, and the inhabitants of the neighbouring country; this was a sufficient reason for these refined young gentlemen to speak of them with the most insufferable contempt. Every circumstance of their dress and appearance was criticised with such a minuteness of attention, that Harry, who sat
near, and very much against his inclination was witness to all that passed, began to imagine that his companions, instead of being brought up like the sons of gentlemen, had only studied under barbers and tailors; such amazing knowledge did they display in the history of buckles, buttons, and dressing of hair. As to the poor performers, they found them totally undeserving of mercy; they were so shockingly awkward, so ill-dressed, so low-lived, and such detestable creatures, that it was impossible to bear them with any patience.
Master Mash, who prided himself upon being a young gentleman of great spirit, was of opinion that they should kick up a riot, and demolish all the scenery. Tommy, indeed, did not very well understand what the expression meant; but he was so intimately persuaded of the merit and genius of his companions, that he agreed that it would be the most proper thing in the world; and the proposal was accordingly made to the rest of the young gentlemen.
But Harry, who had been silent all the time, could not help remonstrating at what appeared to him the greatest injustice and cruelty. "These poor people," said he, "are doing all they can to entertain us; is it not very unkind to treat them in return with scorn and contempt? If they could act better, even as well as those fine people you talk of in London, would they not willingly do it? and therefore, why should we be angry with them for what they cannot help? And, as to cutting the scenes to pieces, or doing the house any damage, have we any more right to attempt it, than they