I soon found out that my master was a great moral philosopher; and being myself in weak health, sated with the ordinary pursuits of the world, in which my experience had forestalled my years, and naturally of a contemplative temperament, I turned my attention to the moral studies which so fascinated my employer. I read through nine shelves full of metaphysicians, and knew exactly the points in which those illustrious thinkers quarrelled with each other, to the great advance of the science. My master and I used to hold many a long discussion about the nature of good and evil; and as by help of his benevolent forehead, and a clear dogged voice, he always seemed to our audience to be the wiser and better man of the two, he was very well pleased with our disputes. This gentleman had an only daughter, an awful shrew with a face like a hatchet: but philosophers overcome personal defects; and thinking only of the good her wealth might enable me to do to my fellow-creatures, I secretly made love to her. You will say, that was playing my master but a scurvy trick for his kindness: not at all, my master himself had convinced me, that there was no such virtue as gratitude. It was an error of vulgar moralists. I yielded to his arguments, and at length privately espoused his daughter. The day after this took place, he summoned me to his study. “So, Augustus,” said he very mildly, “you have married my daughter: nay, never look confused; I saw a long time ago that you were resolved to do so, and I was very glad of it.”

‘I attempted to falter out something like thanks. “Never interrupt me!” said he. “I had two reasons for being glad: – 1st, Because my daughter was the plague of my life, and I wanted some one to take her off my hands; – 2dly, Because I required your assistance on a particular point, and I could not venture to ask it of any one but my son-in-law. In fine, I wish to take you into partnership!!!”

‘“Partnership!” cried I, falling on my knees. “Noble – generous man!”

‘“Stay a bit,” continued my father-in-law. “What funds do you think requisite for carrying on a bank? You look puzzled! Not a shilling! You will put in just as much as I do. You will put in rather more; for you once put in five hundred pounds, which has been spent long ago. I don’t put in a shilling of my own. I live on my clients, and I very willingly offer you half of them!”

‘Imagine, dear Paul, my astonishment, my dismay! I saw myself married to a hideous shrew – son-in-law to a penniless scoundrel, and cheated out of my whole fortune! Compare this view of the question with that which had blazed on me when I contemplated being son-in-law to the rich Mr Asgrave. I stormed at first. Mr Asgrave took up Bacon On the Advancement of Learning, and made no reply till I was cooled in my explosion. You will perceive that, when passion subsided, I necessarily saw that nothing was left for me but adopting my father-in-law’s proposal. Thus, by the fatality which attended me, at the very time I meant to reform, I was forced into scoundrelism, and I was driven into defrauding a vast number of persons by the accident of being son-in-law to a great moralist. As Mr Asgrave was an indolent man, who passed his mornings in speculations on virtue, I was made the active partner. I spent the day at the counting-house; and when I came home for recreation, my wife scratched my eyes out.’

‘But were you never recognized as “the stranger,” or “the adventurer,” in your new capacity?’

‘No; for, of course, I assumed, in all my changes, both aliases and disguises. And, to tell you the truth, my marriage so altered me that, what with a snuff-coloured coat and a brown scratch wig, with a pen in my right ear, I looked the very picture of staid respectability. My face grew an inch longer every day. Nothing is so respectable as a long face! and a subdued expression of countenance is the surest sign of commercial prosperity. Well, we went on splendidly enough for about a year. Meanwhile I was wonderfully improved in philosophy. You have no idea how a scolding wife sublimes and rarifies one’s intellect. Thunder clears the air, you know! At length, unhappily for my fame (for I contemplated a magnificent moral history of man, which, had she lived a year longer, I should have completed), my wife died in child-bed. My father-in-law and I were talking over the event, and finding fault with civilization, by the enervating habits by which women die of their children, instead of bringing them forth without being even conscious of the circumstance; – when a bit of paper, sealed awry, was given to my partner: he looked over it – finished the discussion, and then told me our bank had stopped payment.