Clarke was asked to partake; but answered with a 'no thank you, Mr. Trevor.' I supposed it was awkward bashfulness. I did him wrong. He had a more refined and feeling motive: for, when I pressed him very earnestly, he replied—'At another time, Mr. Trevor, such a favour would make me happy; and you know I have not refused: but, just now, why it would look as if, because you are under misfortunes, I might take liberties.'
Honest-hearted generous fellow! He was still the same. But he breakfasted with us. Be assured, good reader, he breakfasted with us.
And now I had a contest to undergo, which was maintained with so much obstinacy that it became truly painful. Wilmot, in consequence of the success of his comedy, had the power to discharge my debt; and on this at first he peremptorily insisted. But it was what I could not accept. He was, I knew, an Evelyn in soul: but I too panted to be something. I could not endure to rob him of the labour of a life, and walk at large oppressed by the consciousness of impotence: of a depressed and sunken spirit; of which groveling meanness would be the chief feature. Such at least were my sensations: and they were too impetuous to be overcome.
In the ardour we mutually felt, Turl was appealed to by both. At first he strongly inclined to the side of Wilmot: but, hearing my reasons and perceiving the anguish which the proposal gave, he at length said—'Let us pause awhile. We are friends. Imprisonment is a detestable thing; and there is no danger that, as friends, we should suffer each other to endure it long, if there should be any possible and honest means of imparting freedom. We need make no professions. In one part of his argument, Mr. Trevor is undoubtedly right. If he can relieve himself, by his abilities and industry, which he is persuaded he can, it is his duty. For it will not only increase his immediate happiness, but it will give confidence to his efforts, and strength to his mind: qualities that are inestimable. Impediments serve but to rouse the man of genius. To reject aid from a sentiment of haughtiness is a vice: but to despair of our own resources is the death of all true greatness of character. In any case, suspend your contest; in which, though from the best of motives, you are both too warm. Examine your arguments at leisure. If Mr. Trevor can be rendered most happy and useful by accepting your offer, it will then be just in him to cede: but remember once more we are friends, that know each other's worth; and it will be just that I should partake in his release. To this I know you will both joyfully consent. If good can be done, you will not deny me my share!'
It was characteristic of Turl never to speak on serious occasions without leaving a deep impression on his hearers. Wilmot heaved a profound sigh, but was silent.
Having thus far prevailed, I was desirous of being immediately removed to prison: but to this they both vehemently objected. It had an air of ostentation: of affecting to love misery for misery's sake. Time ought to be taken for consideration; and evil should not be sported with, though when unavoidable it ought to be endured with fortitude.
While these debates took place, it was no uninteresting spectacle to contemplate the changes in the countenance of Clarke. Before the adventure of Bath, he had risen much above the level of his companions: but now, when he saw a man willing to part with all he possessed to rescue another from prison, and heard strong reasons why it was probable the offer ought not to be accepted, his feelings were all in arms. His passions, while Wilmot pleaded, were ready to break their bounds; and, when he listened to the answers that were returned, his mind was filled and expanded. He discovered that there is a disinterested grandeur in morality, of which he had no previous conception. He was in a new world; and a dark room, with barred windows, was heaven in all its splendor.
Having agreed to follow their advice, Wilmot and Turl left me; with a promise to return early in the evening: but poor Clarke said 'he had no heart for work that day; and he could not abide to leave me shut up by myself. He saw plainly enough I had true friends; such as would never forsake me: and no more would he, though he could do me no good.' When however I represented to him my wish to be alone, that I might consider on my situation, and requested he would dine with his family, and bring some books from my lodgings in the evening, he complied.
The morning of the day was chiefly consumed; and I was not suffered long to remain alone. I had scarcely dined before a coach stopped at the door, and Charlotte came in with demure significance in her face. 'There is a young lady, sir,' said she, 'which says her name is Wilmot, which wants to see you.'
At this moment, she was the most agreeable visitor that could have arrived. Her heart was full, her eyes were swollen, and red with weeping, and, as soon as she entered the room, she again burst into tears.