The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

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All this time Paunceford carefully and artfully avoided
particular discussions with his old patron, who had too much
spirit to drop the most distant hint of balancing the account of
obligation: that, nevertheless, a man of his feelings could not
but resent this shocking return for all his kindness: and,
therefore, he withdrew himself from the connexion, without coming
to the least explanation or speaking a syllable on the subject to
any living soul; so that now their correspondence is reduced to a
slight salute with the hat, when they chance to meet in any
public place; an accident that rarely happens, for their walks
lie different ways. Mr Paunceford lives in a palace, feeds upon
dainties, is arrayed in sumptuous apparel, appears in all the
pomp of equipage, and passes his time among the nobles of the
land. Serle lodges in Stall-street, up two pair of stairs
backwards, walks a-foot in a Bath-rug, eats for twelve shillings
a-week, and drinks water as preservative against the gout and
gravel -- Mark the vicissitude. Paunceford once resided in a
garret; where he subsisted upon sheep's-trotters and cow-heel,
from which commons he was translated to the table of Serle, that
ever abounded with good-chear; until want of economy and
retention reduced him to a slender annuity in his decline of
years, that scarce affords the bare necessaries of life. --
Paunceford, however, does him the honour to speak of him still,
with uncommon regard; and to declare what pleasure it would give
him to contribute in any shape to his convenience: 'But you know
(he never fails to add) he's a shy kind of a man -- And then such a
perfect philosopher, that he looks upon all superfluities with
the most sovereign
contempt. Having given you this sketch of squire Paunceford, I
need not make any comment on his character, but leave it at the
mercy of your own reflection; from which I dare say, it will meet
with as little quarter as it has found with

Yours always,
J. MELFORD
BATH, May 10.

To Mrs MARY JONES, at Brambleton-hall.

DEAR MOLLY,

We are all upon the ving -- Hey for London, girl! -- Fecks! we have
been long enough here; for we're all turned tipsy turvy -- Mistress
has excarded Sir Ulic for kicking of Chowder; and I have sent O
Frizzle away, with a flea in his ear -- I've shewn him how little I
minded his tinsy and his long tail -- A fellor, who would think for
to go, for to offer, to take up with a dirty trollop under my
nose -- I ketched him in the very feet, coming out of the
housemaids garret. -- But I have gi'en the dirty slut a siserary. O
Molly! the sarvants at Bath are devils in garnet. They lite the
candle at both ends -- Here's nothing but ginketting, and wasting,
and thieving and tricking, and trigging; and then they are never
content -- They won't suffer the 'squire and mistress to stay any
longer; because they have been already above three weeks in the
house; and they look for a couple of ginneys a-piece at our going
away; and this is a parquisite they expect every month in the
season; being as how no family has a right to stay longer than
four weeks in the same lodgings; and so the cuck swears she will
pin the dish-clout to mistress's tail; and the house-maid vows,
she'll put cowitch in master's bed, if so be he don't discamp
without furder ado -- I don't blame them for making the most of
their market, in the way of vails and parquisites; and I defy the
devil to say I am a tail-carrier, or ever brought a poor sarvant
into trouble -- But then they oft to have some conscience, in
vronging those that be sarvants like themselves -- For you must no,
Molly, I missed three-quarters of blond lace, and a remnant of
muslin, and my silver thimble; which was the gift of true love;
they were all in my workbasket, that I left upon the table in the
sarvants-hall, when mistresses bell rung; but if they had been
under lock and kay, 'twould have been all the same; for there are
double keys to all the locks in Bath; and they say as how the
very teeth an't safe in your head, if you sleep with your mouth
open -- And so says I to myself, them things could not go without
hands; and so I'll watch their waters: and so I did with a
vitness; for then it was I found Bett consarned with O Frizzle.
And as the cuck had thrown her
slush at me, because I had taken part with Chowder, when he fit,
with the turnspit, I resolved to make a clear kitchen, and throw
some of her fat into the fire. I ketched the chare-woman going
out with her load in the morning, before she thought I was up,
and brought her to mistress with her whole cargo -- Marry, what
do'st think she had got in the name of God? Her buckets were
foaming full of our best bear, and her lap was stuffed with a
cold tongue, part of a buttock of beef, half a turkey, and a
swinging lump of butter, and the matter of ten mould kandles,
that had scarce ever been lit. The cuck brazened it out, and said
it was her rite to rummage the pantry; and she was ready for to
go before the mare: that he had been her potticary many years,
and would never think of hurting a poor sarvant, for giving away
the scraps of the kitchen. I went another way to work with madam
Betty, because she had been saucy, and called me skandelus names;
and said O Frizzle couldn't abide me, and twenty other odorous
falsehoods. I got a varrant from the mare, and her box being
sarched by the constable, my things came out sure enuff; besides
a full pound of vax candles, and a nite-cap of mistress, that I
could sware to on my cruperal oaf -- O! then madam Mopstick came
upon her merry bones; and as the squire wouldn't hare of a
pursecution, she scaped a skewering: but the longest day she has
to live, she'll remember your

Humble sarvant,
W. JENKINS
BATH, May 15.

If the hind should come again, before we be gone, pray send me
the shift and apron, with the vite gallow manky shoes; which
you'll find in my pillowber -- Sarvice to Saul --

To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, Bart. of Jesus college, Oxon.

You are in the right, dear Phillips; I don't expect regular
answers to every letter -- I know a college-life is too
circumscribed to afford materials for such quick returns of
communication. For my part, I am continually shifting the scene,
and surrounded with new objects; some of which are striking
enough. I shall therefore conclude my journal for your amusement;
and, though, in all appearance, it will not treat of very
important or interesting particulars, it may prove, perhaps, not
altogether uninstructive and unentertaining.

The music and entertainments of Bath are over for this season;
and all our gay birds of passage have taken their flight to
Bristolwell, Tunbridge, Brighthelmstone, Scarborough, Harrowgate,
&c. Not a soul is seen in this place, but a few broken-winded
parsons, waddling like so many crows along the North Parade.
There is always a great shew of the clergy at Bath: none of your
thin, puny, yellow, hectic figures, exhausted with abstinence,
and hardy study, labouring under the morbi eruditorum, but great
overgrown dignitaries and rectors, with rubicund noses and gouty
ancles, or broad bloated faces, dragging along great swag
bellies; the emblems of sloth and indigestion.

Now we are upon the subject of parsons, I must tell you a
ludicrous adventure, which was achieved the other day by Tom
Eastgate, whom you may remember on the foundation of Queen's. He
had been very assiduous to pin himself upon George Prankley, who
was a gentleman-commoner of Christchurch, knowing the said
Prankley was heir to a considerable estate, and would have the
advowson of a good living, the incumbent of which was very old
and infirm. He studied his passions, and flattered them so
effectually, as to become his companion and counsellor; and, at
last, obtained of him a promise of the presentation, when the
living should fall. Prankley, on his uncle's death, quitted
Oxford, and made his first appearance in the fashionable world at
London; from whence he came lately to Bath, where he has been
exhibiting himself among the bucks and gamesters of the place.
Eastgate followed him hither; but he should not have quitted him
for a moment, at his first emerging into life. He ought to have
known he was a fantastic, foolish, fickle fellow, who would
forget his college-attachments the moment they ceased appealing
to his senses. Tom met with a cold reception from his old friend;
and was, moreover, informed, that he had promised the living to
another man, who had a vote in the county, where he proposed to
offer himself a candidate at the next general election. He now
remembered nothing of Eastgate, but the freedoms he had used to
take with him, while Tom had quietly stood his butt, with an eye
to the benefice; and those freedoms he began to repeat in common-place
sarcasms on his person and his cloth, which he uttered in
the public coffeehouse, for the entertainment of the company. But
he was egregiously mistaken in giving his own wit credit for that
tameness of Eastgate, which had been entirely owing to prudential
considerations. These being now removed, he retorted his repartee
with interest, and found no great difficulty in turning the laugh
upon the aggressor; who, losing his temper, called him names, and
asked, If he knew whom he talked to? After much altercation,
Prankley, shaking his cane, bid him hold his tongue, otherwise he
could dust his cassock for him. 'I have no pretensions to such a
valet (said Tom) but if you should do me that office, and
overheat yourself, I have here a good oaken towel at your
service.'

Prankley was equally incensed and confounded at this reply. After
a moment's pause, he took him aside towards die window; and,
pointing to the clump of firs, on Clerken-down, asked in a
whisper, if he had spirit enough to meet him there, with a case
of pistols, at six o'clock tomorrow morning. Eastgate answered in
the affirmative; and, with a steady countenance, assured him, he
would not fail to give him the rendezvous at the hour he
mentioned. So saying, he retired; and the challenger stayed some
time in manifest agitation. In the morning, Eastgate, who knew
his man, and had taken his resolution, went to Prankley's
lodgings, and roused him by five o'clock.

The squire, in all probability, cursed his punctuality in his
heart, but he affected to talk big; and having prepared his
artillery overnight, they crossed the water at the end of the
South Parade. In their progress up the hill, Prankley often eyed
the parson, in hopes of perceiving some reluctance in his
countenance; but as no such marks appeared, he attempted to
intimidate him by word of mouth. 'If these flints do their office
(said he) I'll do thy business in a few minutes.' 'I desire you
will do your best (replied the other); for my part, I come not
here to trifle. Our lives are in the hands of God; and one of us
already totters on the brink of eternity' This remark seemed to
make some impression upon the squire, who changed countenance,
and with a faultering accent observed, 'That it ill became a
clergyman to be concerned in quarrels and bloodshed' -- 'Your
insolence to me (said Eastgate) I should have bore with patience,
had not you cast the most infamous reflections upon my order, the
honour of which I think myself in duty bound to maintain, even at
the expence of my heart's blood; and surely it can be no crime to
put out of the world a profligate wretch, without any sense of
principle, morality, or religion' -- 'Thou may'st take away my life
(cried Prankley, in great perturbation) but don't go to murder my
character. What! has't got no conscience?' 'My conscience is
perfectly quiet (replied the other); and now, Sir, we are upon
the spot -- Take your ground as near as you please; prime your
pistol; and the Lord, of his infinite mercy, have compassion upon
your miserable soul!'

This ejaculation he pronounced in a loud solemn tone, with his
hat off, and his eyes lifted up; then drawing a large horse-pistol,
he presented, and put himself in a posture of action.
Prankley took his distance, and endeavoured to prime, but his
hand shook with such violence, that he found this operation
impracticable -- His antagonist, seeing how it was with him,
offered his assistance, and advanced for that purpose; when the
poor squire, exceedingly alarmed at what he had heard and seen,
desired the action might be deferred till next day, as he had not
settled his affairs. 'I ha'n't made my will (said he); my sisters
are not provided for; and I just now recollect an old promise,
which my conscience tells me I ought to perform -- I'll first
convince thee, that I'm not a wretch without principle, and then
thou shalt have an opportunity to take my life, which thou
seem'st to thirst after so eagerly.'

Eastgate understood the hint; and told him, that one day should
break no squares: adding, 'God forbid that I should be the means
of hindering you from acting the part of an honest man, and a
dutiful brother' -- By virtue of this cessation, they returned
peaceably together. Prankley forthwith made out the presentation
of the living, and delivered it to Eastgate, telling him at the
same time, he had now settled his affairs, and was ready to
attend him to the Fir-grove; but Tom declared he could not think
of lifting his hand against the life of so great a benefactor -- He
did more: when they next met at the coffeehouse, he asked pardon
of Mr Prankley, if in his passion he had said any thing to give
him offence; and the squire was so gracious as to forgive him
with a cordial shake of the hand, declaring, that he did not like
to be at variance with an old college companion -- Next day,
however, he left Bath abruptly; and then Eastgate told me all
these particulars, not a little pleased with the effects of his
own sagacity, by which he has secured a living worth 160l. per
annum.

Of my uncle, I have nothing at present to say; but that we set
out tomorrow for London en famille. He and the ladies, with the
maid and Chowder in a coach; I and the man-servant a-horseback.
The particulars of our journey you shall have in my next,
provided no accident happens to prevent,

Yours ever,
J. MELFORD
BATH May 17.

To Dr LEWIS.

DEAR DICK,

I shall to-morrow set out for London, where I have bespoke
lodgings, at Mrs Norton's in Golden-square. Although I am no
admirer of Bath, I shall leave it with regret; because I must
part with some old friends, whom, in all probability, I shall
never see again. In the course of coffeehouse conversation, I had
often heard very extraordinary encomiums passed on the
performances of Mr T--, a gentleman residing in this place, who
paints landscapes for his amusement. As I have no great
confidence in the taste and judgment of coffeehouse connoisseurs,
and never received much pleasure from this branch of the art,
those general praises made no impression at all on my curiosity;
but, at the request of a particular friend, I went yesterday to
see the pieces, which had been so warmly commended -- I must own I
am no judge of painting, though very fond of pictures. I don't
imagine that my senses would play me so false, as to betray me
into admiration of any thing that was very bad; but, true it is,
I have often overlooked capital beauties, in pieces of
extraordinary merit. -- If I am not totally devoid of taste,
however, this young gentleman of Bath is the best landscape-painter
now living: I was struck with his performances in such a
manner, as I had never been by painting before. His trees not
only have a richness of foliage and warmth of colouring, which
delights the view; but also a certain magnificence in the
disposition and spirit in the expression, which I cannot
describe. His management of the chiaro oscuro, or light and
shadow, especially gleams of sunshine, is altogether wonderful,
both in the contrivance and execution; and he is so happy in his
perspective, and marking his distances at sea, by a progressive
series of ships, vessels, capes, and promontories, that I could
not help thinking, I had a distant view of thirty leagues upon
the back-ground of the picture. If there is any taste for
ingenuity left in a degenerate age, fast sinking into barbarism,
this artist, I apprehend, will make a capital figure, as soon as
his works are known.

Two days ago, I was favoured with a visit by Mr Fitzowen; who,
with great formality, solicited my vote and interest at the
general election. I ought not to have been shocked at the
confidence of this man; though it was remarkable, considering
what had passed between him and me on a former occasion -- These
visits are mere matter of form, which a candidate makes to every
elector; even to those who, he knows, are engaged in the interest
of his competitor, lest he should expose himself to the
imputation of pride, at a time when it is expected he should
appear humble. Indeed, I know nothing so abject as the behaviour
of a man canvassing for a seat in parliament -- This mean
prostration (to borough-electors, especially) has, I imagine,
contributed in a great measure to raise that spirit of insolence
among the vulgar; which, like the devil, will be found very
difficult to lay. Be that as it may, I was in some confusion at
the effrontery of Fitzowen; but I soon recollected myself, and
told him, I had not yet determined for whom I should give my
vote, nor whether I should give it for any. -- The truth is, I look
upon both candidates in the same light; and should think myself a
traitor to the constitution of my country, if I voted for either.
If every elector would bring the same consideration home to his
conscience, we should not have such reason to exclaim against the
venality of p--ts. But we all are a pack of venal and corrupted
rascals; so lost to all sense of honesty, and all tenderness of
character, that, in a little time, I am fully persuaded, nothing
will be infamous but virtue and public-spirit.

G. H--, who is really an enthusiast in patriotism, and
represented the capital in several successive parliaments,
declared to me t'other day, with the tears in his eyes, that he
had lived above thirty years in the city of London, and dealt in
the way of commerce with all the citizens of note in their turns;
but that, as he should answer to God, he had never, in the whole
course of his life, found above three or four whom he could call
thoroughly honest: a declaration which was rather mortifying than
surprising to me; who have found so few men of worth in the
course of my acquaintance, that they serve only as exceptions;
which, in the grammarian's phrase, confirm and prove a general
canon -- I know you will say, G. H-- saw imperfectly through the
mist of prejudice, and I am rankled by the spleen -- Perhaps, you
are partly in the right; for I have perceived that my opinion of
mankind, like mercury in the thermometer, rises and falls
according to the variations of the weather.

Pray settle accompts with Barnes; take what money of mine is in
his hands, and give him acquittance. If you think Davis has stock
or credit enough to do justice to the farm, give him a discharge
for the rent that is due, this will animate his industry; for I
know that nothing is so discouraging to a farmer as the thoughts
of being in arrears with his landlord. He becomes dispirited, and
neglects his labour; and so the farm goes to wreck. Tabby has
been clamouring for some days about the lamb's skin, which
Williams, the hind, begged of me, when he was last at Bath.
Prithee take it back, paying the fellow the full value of it,
that I may have some peace in my own house; and let him keep his
own counsel, if he means to keep his place -- O! I shall never
presume to despise or censure any poor man, for suffering himself
to be henpecked; conscious how I myself am obliged to truckle to
a domestic demon; even though (blessed be God) she is not yoked
with me for life, in the matrimonial waggon -- She has quarrelled
with the servants of the house about vails; and such intolerable
scolding ensued on both sides, that I have been fain to appease
the cook and chambermaid by stealth. Can't you find some poor
gentleman of Wales, to take this precious commodity off the hands
of

Yours,
MATT. BRAMBLE
BATH, May 19.

To Dr LEWIS.

DOCTER LEWS,

Give me leaf to tell you, methinks you mought employ your talons
better, than to encourage servants to pillage their masters. I
find by Gwyllim, that Villiams has got my skin; for which he is
an impotent rascal. He has not only got my skin, but, moreover,
my butter-milk to fatten his pigs; and, I suppose, the next thing
he gets, will be my pad to carry his daughter to church and fair:
Roger gets this, and Roger gets that; but I'd have you to know, I
won't be rogered at this rate by any ragmatical fellow in the
kingdom -- And I am surprised, docter Lews, you would offer to put
my affairs in composition with the refuge and skim of the hearth.
I have toiled and moyled to a good purpuss, for the advantage of
Matt's family, if I can't safe as much owl as will make me an
under petticoat. As for the butter-milk, ne'er a pig in the
parish shall thrust his snout in it, with my good-will. There's a
famous physician at the Hot Well, that prescribes it to his
patience, when the case is consumptive; and the Scots and Irish
have begun to drink it already, in such quantities, that there is
not a drop left for the hogs in the whole neighbourhood of
Bristol. I'll have our butter-milk barrelled up, and sent twice
a-week to Aberginny, where it may be sold for a half-penny the
quart; and so Roger may carry his pigs to another market -- I hope,
Docter, you will not go to put any more such phims in my
brother's head, to the prejudice of my pockat; but rather give me
some raisins (which hitherto you have not done) to subscribe
myself

Your humble servant,
TAB. BRAMBLE
BATH, May 19.

To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, of Jesus college, Oxon.

DEAR PHILLIPS,

Without waiting for your answer to my last, I proceed to give you
an account of our journey to London, which has not been wholly
barren of adventure. Tuesday last the 'squire took his place in a
hired coach and four, accompanied by his sister and mine, and Mrs
Tabby's maid, Winifrid Jenkins, whose province it was to support
Chowder on a cushion in her lap. I could scarce refrain from
laughing when I looked into the vehicle, and saw that animal
sitting opposite to my uncle, like any other passenger. The
squire, ashamed of his situation, blushed to the eyes: and,
calling to the postilions to drive on, pulled the glass up in my
face. I, and his servant, John Thomas, attended them on
horseback.

Nothing worth mentioning occurred, till we arrived on the edge of
Marlborough Downs. There one of the four horses fell, in going
down hill at a round trot; and the postilion behind, endeavouring
to stop the carriage, pulled it on one side into a deep rut,
where it was fairly overturned. I had rode on about two hundred
yards before; but, hearing a loud scream, galloped back and
dismounted, to give what assistance was in my power. When I
looked into the coach, I could see nothing distinctly, but the
nether end of Jenkins, who was kicking her heels and squalling
with great vociferation. All of a sudden, my uncle thrust up his
bare pate, and bolted through the window, as nimble as a
grasshopper, having made use of poor Win's posteriors as a step
to rise in his ascent -- The man (who had likewise quitted his
horse) dragged this forlorn damsel, more dead than alive, through
the same opening. Then Mr Bramble, pulling the door off its
hinges with a jerk, laid hold on Liddy's arm, and brought her to
the light; very much frighted, but little hurt. It fell to my
share to deliver our aunt Tabitha, who had lost her cap in the
struggle, and being rather more than half frantic, with rage and
terror, was no bad representation of one of the sister Furies
that guard the gates of hell -- She expressed no sort of concern
for her brother, who ran about in the cold, without his periwig,
and worked with the most astonishing agility, in helping to
disentangle the horses from the carriage: but she cried, in a
tone of distraction, 'Chowder! Chowder! my dear Chowder! my poor
Chowder is certainly killed!'

This was not the case -- Chowder, after having tore my uncle's leg
in the confusion of the fall, had retreated under the scat, and
from thence the footman drew him by the neck; for which good
office, he bit his fingers to the bone. The fellow, who is
naturally surly, was so provoked at this assault, that he saluted
his ribs with a hearty kick, exclaiming, 'Damn the nasty son of a
bitch, and them he belongs to!' A benediction, which was by no
means lost upon the implacable virago his mistress -- Her brother,
however, prevailed upon her to retire into a peasant's house,
near the scene of action, where his head and hers were covered,
and poor Jenkins had a fit. Our next care was to apply some
sticking plaister to the wound in his leg, which exhibited the
impression of Chowder's teeth; but he never opened his lips
against the delinquent -- Mrs Tabby, alarmed at this scene, 'You
say nothing, Matt (cried she); but I know your mind -- I know the
spite you have to that poor unfortunate animal! I know you intend
to take his life away!' 'You are mistaken, upon my honour!
(replied the squire, with a sarcastic smile) I should be
incapable of harbouring any such cruel design against an object
so amiable and inoffensive; even if he had not the happiness to
be your favourite.'

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