I like my own profession better than any in the world; but then it is because I am suited to it. I couldn't write four lines in verse, no, not to save me from being shot. A man cannot have all the advantages of life. Who would not be poor if he could be sure of possessing genius, and winning fame and immortality, sir? Think of Dr. Johnson, what a genius he had, and where did he live? In apartments that I dare say were no better than these, which I am sure, gentlemen, are most cheerful and pleasant,« says the Colonel, thinking he had offended us. »One of the great pleasures and delights which I had proposed to myself on coming home was to be allowed to have the honour of meeting with men of learning and genius, with wits, poets, and historians, if I may be so fortunate, and of benefiting by their conversation. I left England too young to have that privilege. In my father's house money was thought of, I fear, rather than intellect – neither he nor I had the opportunities which I wish you to have; and I am surprised you should think of reflecting upon Mr. Pendennis's poverty, or of feeling any sentiment but respect and admiration when you enter the apartments of the poet and the literary man. I have never been in the rooms of a literary man before,« the Colonel said, turning away from his son to us; »excuse me, is that – that paper really a proof-sheet?« We handed over to him that curiosity, smiling at the enthusiasm of the honest gentleman who could admire what to us was as unpalatable as a tart to a pastry-cook.

Being with men of letters, he thought proper to make his conversation entirely literary, and in the course of my subsequent more intimate acquaintance with him, though I knew he had distinguished himself in twenty actions, he never could be brought to talk of his military feats or experience, but passed them by, as if they were subjects utterly unworthy of notice.

I found he believed Dr. Johnson to be the greatest of men; the doctor's words were constantly in his mouth, and he never travelled without Boswell's Life. Besides these, he read Cæsar and Tacitus, »with translations, sir, with translations – I'm thankful that I kept some of my Latin from Grey Friars« – and he quoted sentences from the Latin Grammar, apropos of a hundred events of common life, and with perfect simplicity and satisfaction to himself. Besides the above-named books, the Spectator, »Don Quixote,« and »Sir Charles Grandison« formed a part of his travelling library. »I read these, sir,« he used to say, »because I like to be in the company of gentlemen; and Sir Roger de Coverley, and Sir Charles Grandison, and Don Quixote are the finest gentlemen in the world.« And when we asked him his opinion of Fielding, –

»›Tom Jones,‹ sir; ›Joseph Andrews!‹ sir,« he cried, twirling his mustachios. »I read them when I was a boy, when I kept other bad company, and did other low and disgraceful things, of which I'm ashamed now. Sir, in my father's library I happened to fall in with those books; and I read them in secret, just as I used to go in private and drink beer, and fight cocks, and smoke pipes with Jack and Tom, the grooms in the stables. Mrs. Newcome found me, I recollect, with one of those books; and thinking it might be by Mrs. Hannah More, or some of that sort, for it was a grave-looking volume: and though I wouldn't lie about that or anything else – never did, sir; never, before Heaven, have I told more than three lies in my life – I kept my own counsel; – I say, she took it herself to read one evening; and read on gravely – for she had no more idea of a joke than I have of Hebrew – until she came to the part about Lady B–– and Joseph Andrews. And then she shut the book, sir; and you should have seen the look she gave me! I own I burst out a-laughing, for I was a wild young rebel, sir. But she was in the right, sir, and I was in the wrong. A book, sir, that tells the story of a parcel of servants, of a pack of footmen and ladies'-maids fuddling in ale-houses! Do you suppose I want to know what my kitmutgars and cousomahs are doing? I am as little proud as any man in the world: but there must be distinction, sir; and as it is my lot and Clive's lot to be a gentleman, I won't sit in the kitchen and booze in the servants' hall. As for that Tom Jones – that fellow that sells himself, sir – by heavens, my blood boils when I think of him! I wouldn't sit down in that same room with such a fellow, sir. If he came in at that door, I would say, ›How dare you, you hireling ruffian, to sully with your presence an apartment where my young friend and I are conversing together? where two gentlemen, I say, are taking their wine after dinner? How dare you, you degraded villain? – I don't mean you, sir. I – I – I beg your pardon.‹«

The Colonel was striding about the room in his white garments, puffing his cigar fiercely anon, and then waving his yellow bandanna; and it was by the arrival of Larkins, my clerk, that his apostrophe to Tom Jones was interrupted; he, Larkins, taking care not to show his amazement, having been schooled not to show or feel surprise at anything he might see or hear in our chambers.

»What is it, Larkins?« said I. Larkins's other master had taken his leave some time before, having business which called him away, and leaving me with the honest Colonel, quite happy with his talk and cigar.

»It's Bretts's man,« says Larkins.

I confounded Bretts's man, and told the boy to bid him call again. Young Larkins came grinning back in a moment, and said, –

»Please, sir, he says his orders is not to go away without the money.«

»Confound him, again,« I cried. »Tell him I have no money in the house. He must come to-morrow.«

As I spoke, Clive was looking in wonder, and the Colonel's countenance assumed an appearance of the most dolorous sympathy. Nevertheless, as with a great effort, he fell to talking about Tom Jones again, and continued, –

»No, sir, I have no words to express my indignation against such a fellow as Tom Jones.