'Why yes, Mr. Trevor; that is what I mean. You are a young man. I don't know you, but you come recommended to me, by my very learned friends. You have not the cares of the church to trouble you, and so you fill up your idle time with writing.'—'My lord!'—'Nay, Mr. Trevor, you write very prettily. I could write too, but I have not time. I never had time. I had aways a deal of business on my hands: persons of distinction to visit, when I was young, and to take care not to disoblige. That is a main point of prudence, Mr. Trevor; never disoblige your superiors. But I dare say you have more sense: and so, if that be the case, why you will make friends, as I did. I will be one of them; and I will recommend you, Mr. Trevor, and introduce you, and every thing may be to the satisfaction of all parties.'—
'Well, but how, my lord?'
'Why you have written a defence of the articles: now do you wish to make a friend?'—'I wish for the friendship of all good men, my lord.'—'That is right! To be sure! And you can keep a secret?'—'I have proved that I can, my lord.'—'Why that is right! And perhaps you would be glad to see your defence in print?'—'I should, my lord.'—'Why that is right! And, if it would serve a friend to put another name to the work—?'—'My lord!' 'Nay, if you have any objection, I shall say no more!' 'I do not comprehend your lordship?'—'A work, Mr. Trevor, would not sell the worse, or be less read, or less famous, for having a dignified name in the title-page.'—'Your lordship's, for example?'—'Nay, I did not say that! But, if you are a prudent young man, and should have no objection?'—'I find I am not the man your lordship has supposed!—'Nay!'—'I will be no participator in falsehood, private or public!'—'Falsehood, Sir! What interpretation are you putting upon my words? I thought you had been a prudent young man, Mr. Trevor! I was willing to have been your friend! But I have done!'—'My lord, I must be free enough to declare, I neither understand the friendship nor the morality of the proposition.'—'Sir! morality! Is that language, Sir? Morality! I am sorry I have been deceived!'—'I have been equally so, my lord, and am equally sorry! I wish your lordship a good morning.'
Away I came, and in my vexation totally forgot to redemand my manuscript. I recollected it however while within sight of the door, and turned back. I knocked, asked for his lordship, and was told he was not at home! This profligate impudence exceeded belief, and my choler became ungovernable. 'His lordship,' exclaimed I to the footman, 'is a disgrace to the bench on which he sits!' The footman thrust the door in my face, and epithets then burst from me, that were a disgrace to myself.
I hurried homeward, determined to give vent to my feelings in a letter, and half determined that it should be publicly addressed to the rank hypocrite, signed by my own name. My angry imagination teemed forth the biting taunts that should sting him to madness, and the broad shame with which he was to be overwhelmed. Active memory retraced each circumstance, that could blacken the object of my present contempt and abhorrence; and every trait increased the bitterness of my gall, and made my boiling blood more hot. Was this a pastor of the church? a follower of Christ? a Christian bishop? The question astonished and exasperated me almost to frenzy.
In this temper I arrived in Bruton-street, where another very unexpected scene awaited me. The earl I was told, had inquired for me, and desired to see me the moment I should be at home. The message, by turning my thoughts into a new channel, gave relief to the impetuous tide of passion. The gloomy scene instantly brightened into prospects the most cheering and opposite. It was good to have two strings to the bow, especially as this second was of so firm and inflexible a texture.
All my favourable forebodings were confirmed, when, on entering, I observed the smiles that played on his lordship's countenance! He was in a most pleasant humour. 'I hinted to you, Mr. Trevor,' said he, 'that I should probably have something agreeable soon to communicate!'
His words gave certainly to expectation! They uttered volumes of rapture in a breath! The fresh laurels of politics sprouted forth with tenfold vigour, and the withered fig-tree of theology was totally forgotten!
'There is likely to be a change in affairs then, my lord?' said I, smiling in rapturous sympathy as I spoke—'There is.'—'Mr. *** has been with your lordship several times, I think?'—'Yes, yes; I am courted by all parties, at present'—'Indeed, my lord! Then Themistocles has become formidable?'—'Yes, yes! I have made them feel me!'—'I am glad that I have been instrumental.'—'Certainly, Mr. Trevor; certainly. An architect cannot build palaces with his own hands. But we will not talk of that: we must complete the work we have begun'—'And publish our fourth letter?'—'By no means, Mr. Trevor! that would ruin all!' For a moment I was speechless! At last I ejaculated—'My lord!'—'Things at present wear a very different face! we must now write on the other side. You seem surprised?' Well might he say so! I was thunderstruck! 'But I will tell you a secret. The minister and I are friends! I send four members into the house; and if government had not expended five times the sum that it cost me, to carry their elections, I should have sent three more. I have attacked the minister in the house by my votes; I have attacked him in the papers by my writings: so, finding I wielded my two edged sword with such resolution and activity, he has thought proper to beat a parley. He acknowledges that the fifty thousand pounds the election contest cost me were expended in support of our excellent constitution, and that I ought to be rewarded for my patriotism. His offers are liberal, and peace is concluded. We must now vere about, and this was the business for which I wanted you. A good casuist you know, Mr. Trevor, can defend both sides of a question; and I have no doubt but that you will appear with as much brilliancy, as a panegyrist, as you have done, as a satirist.'
How long I remained in that state of painful stupefaction into which I had been thrown, at the very commencement of this harangue, is more than I can say: but, as soon as I could recover some little presence of mind, I replied—'You, my lord, no doubt have your own reasons; which, to you, are a justification of your own conduct. For my part, when I wrote against the minister, it was not against the man. A desire to abash vice, advance the virtuous, and promote the good of mankind, were my motives!'—'Mr. Trevor, I find you are a young man: you do not know the world'—The scene with the bishop was acting over again, and I felt myself bursting once more with indignation. With ineffable contempt in every feature of my face, I answered—'If a knowledge of the world consists in servility, selfishness, and the practice of deceit, I hope I never shall know it.'—'You strangely forget yourself, Mr. Trevor!'—'I am not of that opinion, my lord. I rather think, it was the man who could suppose me capable of holding the pen of prostitution that strangely forgot himself!'