v.i cop. 2 •>v ^ m^ mm A t / \ L I B R.AHY OF THE UN IVLRSITY Of ILLINOIS H69*» MEMOIRS OF BRYAN PERDUE: A NOVEL. BY THOMAS HOLCROFT. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, PATERNOSTER ROW, **\- 1805. \ C. Mercier and Co. Printer*, C, Northumberland Court. / 8/ PREFACE. Whenever I have undertaken ^ to write a novel, I have proposed to Sk myself a specific moral purpose, ,C This purpose, in Anna St. Ives, was to teach fortitude to females: in Hugh Trevor, to induce youth (or their parents) carefully to inquire into the morality of the profession which each might intend for him- self: and, in the present work, to induce all humane and thinking men, such as legislators ought to be and often are, to consider the general and the adventitious value of human life, and the moral ten- dency of our penal laws. To exemplify this doctrine, it was necessary that the hero of the IV PREFACE. fable should offend those laws, that his life should be in jeopardy, and that he should possess not only a strong leaven of virtue but high powers of mind, such as to induce the heart to shrink, at the recollec- tion that such a man might have been legally put to death. With respect to his mental abili- ties, therefore, I have, in the first volume, made him assume the cha- racter of his mature age, and display the resources of his imagination and mental powers in various ways. While he spoke in this charac- ter, I had an opportunity also to attain another purpose. The ideas, sportively scattered through the first volume, are intended either to satirize vice, ridicule folly, or sug- gest subjects that may peculiarly deserve the consideration of the wise / PREFACE, and good. My doubt, while writ- ing this volume, was, lest these partly digressive objects should be deemed too great an impediment to the progress of the story $ therefore, as that became interest- ing, I gradually suffered all spor- tiveness to die away. Novels, like comedies, are the proper receptacles for the whole round of human affections; and, the more these affections are diver- sified, the greater is the enjoyment of mind which novels afford. Novel writing has been fre- quently treated as the meanest and most jejune exercise of the human faculties, employed in the compo- sition of books -, but such opi- nions arc given either in a moment of disgust, after reading novels that are indeed contemptible, oi* VI PREFACE. with the dogmatic importance of men, whose minds, being intent on some other object, conceive that object and its branches to be almost exclusively worthy of the exercise of wisdom. Such men de- serve compassion, if they can read the numerous excellent novels that have been produced, and yet repeat such illiberal assertions ; for it will either prove their intellect to be very weak, or very perverse; and perhaps both. Hints of great utility, and of a dignified and important nature, are frequently found in well writ- ten novels. Ought not the prac- tice therefore of writing them to be encouraged, instead of de- cried ? They are a high source of gratification, to the half informed ; aiud especially to youth, by whom / PREFACE. VU they are constantly read : therefore, if their morality be definite, their language flowing, their diction pure, and the lessons they teach im- pressive, are they not a noble pub- lic benefit i When thus written, do they not gratify even the man of mature thought, by affording pleasure not likely to be imparted in any other kind of composition. In what I have said, I have spoken of novels in the abstract, and not of the work here presented to the reader : for it ill becomes an author to speak, or even to think, of himself in any manner that could be deemed inflated. Let him exert his few faculties, let him hope well of them, and let him cheerfully wait the decision of the public. With respect to conducting the Vlil PREFACE. trial in this novel, I am aware that I have not confined myself to the mere routine of practice at the Old Bailey. I may unwittingly have been guilty of other legal mistakes, which a technical critic may be of- fended at when first seen, but when he considers how easily they might have been rectified had I been ac- customed to the routine of such affairs, he will perhaps think with me they are trifles. The precise scenes, as here described, or nearly the same, might have happened, and that is sufficient for the pur- poses of a novel. Berner-street, London., Sept. 5th, 1805. MEMOIRS OF BRYAN PERDUE. CHAPTER I. Facts concerning myself, and Annotations more than enough. here is the man who, in the act of writing memoirs of himself, does not find his attention drawn, or rather fixed, on the bright and amiable part of the portrait? He proposes to write honestly, but has he the power? He allows that this or that action was bad, but he declares the motives were good. And what does he mean? Were his passions sufficiently under controul? VOL. I. £ 2 MEMOIRS OF In the coarse of life, while he was himself eager to gain, be it honor, wealth, or pleasure, did he always suf- ficiently recollect what others might loser His motives were to benefit him- self; he therefore called them good. I would not be thought to put such questions to the high ministers of state, the great law officers, and the sacred dignitaries of the church 5 for ques- tions and doubts, in these cases, would every one be a libel, and my earnest desire is to live and die in peace. My life, however, has been such, that, were I to write only the good which I know of myself, my memoirs would claim no notice. It is lucky for us that goodness is but a sort of dull every-day kind of thing: every one has more than enough for himself, and cannot bear to be loaded with and ob- truded upon by the goodness of his neigh- bour. But he crows, like Chanticleer, BRYAN PERDUE. 5 when he hears of the failings of others, and claps his wings; for, then, it is " who but I i" So be it : these me- moirs will give him frequent cause of satisfaction. I protest I mean to be sincere 5 and, that I may be so, I have cunningly devised the means of shifting blame from my own shoulders, and laying it on those of another, one Bryan Perdue, an imaginary being, that never had ex- istence : for, if there have been any man of that name, my iniquities were not his. Still, however, I would warn the reader against tergiversation on my part ; for, though I vaunt of the ho- nesty with which I have appointed a committee of inquest, still I must ac- knowledge I have been anxious to select the members of this committee from those who either do now think, or have formerly spoken of me in b 2 4 MEMOIRS OF friendly terms, or, with great admi- ration. I own that I have read of one Catiline, and of other suspected great men, who have done the same; but then they were not like me in the class of private thieves. As, however, I have a zealous de- sire to do some little good before I die, by exposing to simple and honest youth the dangers that beset them, and by pointing out to them the snares, traps, and pitfalls in which I have been caught, I hope that, where they find a little good intention, they will pardon a deal of dulness; for so they may think my wit. Neither have I much to expect, per- sonally, nor to fear from mankind ; for I have been so exposed, to the blows and buffets of Fortune, that, I can almost defy her malice : like a mischievous boy, who has been whip- ped till he no longer fears whipping. BRYAN PERDUE. 5 I am also now at ease in worldly affairs, and therefore do not think my- self in much future danger; except indeed it should be from such events, and visitations, as mortals have not the gift to foresee. My days of riot, when the boisterous pleasures of the senses drive, full gallop, and overset prudence, wisdom, and virtue, maim- ing them all, these days I say are past. But it has been their turn to reign, and with a rod of iron : their tyranny was mortal in its tendency; but ty- ranny is always so ; and, however cau- tious and sage I may be at present, it will presently appear that I had those giddy, light-minded, and even rash propensities in which vice and folly de- light. I cannot sufficiently foresee the man- ner in which I shall perform the task I have here undertaken, but give no- tice that it will be well performed; ay, b 3 6 MEMOIRS OF superlatively ! Were I to be as eloquent, as wise, as witty, as satirical, as full of imagery, metaphor, simile, and allegory, as I am when I dream of myself, Heaven defend me! I should astonish the world. No book but mine would ever here- after be read. But, when I awake, or rather, when my poetry and my ego- tism are asleep, strange to tell, but, I then really fear my book will rest among the lumber of the Minerva press. These are terrible moments, but they are short. Well, on I go. Talent has been worthily warned not to hide his candle under a bushel. Genius should not be hid. Hey day ! I find I am dreaming as fast as ever. > Still, it must be allowed, that, the little good, which a man imagines may be done by himself, he ought earnestly to endeavour to accomplish. Every time he does amiss, he incurs a debt BRYAN PERDUE, 1 which it becomes him to repay. I have been a notorious moral bankrupt, and the dividend I have to offer some may conceive to be small : but as my credit- ors, are the public at large, and as it is every body's business to call upon me, it is by the same rule nobody's -, there- fore I am safe. This is the reason that so many malefactors, great and small, escape. I can prophesy, however, that I shall be mightily pleased with these me- moirs, when I have written them ; or rather in raptures, for I am pleased al- ready -, now, at the conclusion of the first chapter. In the name of sober sense, then, what shall I be when I have written the whole r The glory of the meridian sun will not equal mine ! Ah, how little shall I be able to disco- ver the spots, which will alone be vi- sible to those whose learned science, or natural instinct, teaches them to look b 4 8 MEMOIRS OF only where spots may be seen, and to peer, detect, and point them out for the benefit of mankind. For my own part, darkness visible will be my lot. But, such is man ; especially w T hen he writes a book. BRYAN PERDUE. CHAPTER II. Egotism : Wisdom : Secrecy : famous and fashionable Men : social and official Rogues, and their Differences : political Hopes and Fears. Since I have frankly owned that I am an egotist, I must do myself the jus- tice to remark that my egotism chiefly consists in the very high estimation in which I hold my talents, as a man of wisdom. I find little ambition to ex- cel others in the cut of my coat ; but, when I can cut up [pardon the quibble] when I can cut up a fool, I take such delight in the office that I have no more mercy than a butcher. Should folly feel any wound, I shall then, I know, be called an assassin : but, thank Heaven, she is a thoughtless light-hearted lady, B 5 10 MEMOIRS OF who has not time to take offence. Let them lash that like, she will but caper on and laugh the louder. Wisdom, like rank, will not admit of too much familiarity, and therefore holds the vulgar at a distance, as much delighting in her own solitary reveries : for which reason, feeling a firm convic- tion that I am wise, I choose to maintain my dignity, and therefore live retired. I have a cot, and am a kind of Hermit. I have a further motive, which is to remain unknown, and undiscovered, by those with whom I formerly associated : as it must be evident to all that, since I am w r ise, wisdom has inevitably made me virtuous. Let me, however, ho- nestly declare that I shall at all times think myself honored by the notice and the esteem of honest men, if J can find them, and they can find me. To confess a truth, I have more than once formed the project of once more ventur- BRYAN PERDUE. 11 ing into the world ; that is, of quitting my cottage, and endeavouring to pene- trate into the palaces of the great. But I hear strange stories, as if honesty, like the god Baal, had gone a journey lately. No doubt they are calumnies. Great men, I imagine, are actuated by motives like my own, when they re- ject their proper names and designa- tions, and assume new : thus, when Mr. Cheatall took the title of Lord More Money, and Sir Henry Empty acquired the rank of Earl Goldstick, they had their reasons. I also had mine, when I first began to call myself Mr. Bryan Per- due; esteemingitbutjust that,havingre- solved to rid myself of my bad proper- ties, I should no longer have a bad name. Their reasons* no doubt, were the same. The change was not intended to do injury in either case to others, but good to ourselves; and therefore my conscience was and is reconciled to the B 6 12 MEMOIRS OF act. In this too I flatter myself that I have the honor to agree with the new and noble peers above mentioned, and with every other new and noble peer in the realm ; for I would live in peace, and escape obloquy and persecution. This, I grant, were I known, would be difficult; for there are men who would have no characters of their own if they were not indefatigable in taking away the characters of others. They £sh in troubled waters, and their nets come up loaded with titles, places, pensions, public thanks, statues of bronze for having done more wicked, destructive, and intolerable mis — Bless me ! I named nobody. I shall get entangled in their meshes, hurried into their pitfalls, maimed in their mantraps — I mean no harm. Pardon ! Pardon, if I have said amiss ! Well, then, my father's name was not Perdue, but a name which, in his BRYAN PERDUE. 13 day, rang in the ears of those useful and superior people, who announce themselves to be the fashionable world: and one which, when speaking of rogues in general, was esteemed by this same fashionable world as among the most famous. My father, indeed, ever pronounced himself a man of fashion \ and even the people who declared him to be a gambler, in other words a dangerous rogue, did not appear to dispute with him concerning the distinction which he claimed $ thinking it, as I am now led to suppose, a matter of no moment. Here, however, it ought to be under- stood that I am speaking only of that species of rogues, which, after mature reflection, I am induced to distinguish by some comparison of mildness 3 and the epithet social rogues is that to which I am most inclined. I mean by this to declare that the two classes of private and public rogues 14 MEMOIRS OF ought to be carefully distinguished from each other. Social rogues ought by no means to be confounded with official rogues, if there are any such to be found i which God forbid ! The very supposition that there are such rogues is dreadful. I must therefore hope there are no human beings so diaboli- cally wicked, or depraved. For, were such flagitious wretches, or devouring locusts, or whatever opprobrious word* they may be stigmatized by, were such, I say, to creep, by any chance, into the government of states, corporations, companies, and other public bodies, not excepting charitable institutions,., what would become of the nation ! I pretend to little knowledge in these matters, but, if ever this were to hap- pen to be the case, such a miserable ac- cident would resemble a seaman com- ing from the Levant, and infected with the plague, who, yielding to the base BRYAN PERDUE. 15 passions of his heart, steals clandestine- ly on shore, and spreads the contagion through towns, countries, and king- doms ; so that the number of those who escape the mortal pestilence are but few. I must, however, confess I have read of these official or pestilential rogues; who, by some cunning device or means, unknown to me, creep into offices of sacred trust, which none but the imma- culate should possess ; but, as these as- sertions are only made in journals or pamphlets, and are contradicted in other journals or pamphlets, which pro- nounce the first to be seditious, I sleep in peace, and bless my stars at read- ing these contentious proofs of the free- dom of the press. I hope, however, I shaTl not be con- founded with malcontents, for the simplicity with which I state dubious points, on which I have heard much but know little; and if> at any time, 16 MEMOIRS OF I should commit mistakes, I charitably expect such slips of human weakness will be attributed to my credulity; and not to any malicious motive, for that is what I can never be brought to ac- knowledge. I live in a cottage. When indeed I ruminate in my re- tirement, I must rationally and naturally be inclined to suppose that our majori- ties in parliament; public-spirited, open- hearted, and fair-speeched gentlemen as they are, must declare the honest truth : for, were it otherwise, they would be the most vSober prudence, set thy seal upon my lips; otherwise I shall utter such things !!! Take comfort, Mr. Bryan, for these public -spirited, open-hearted, fair- speeched gentlemen have uniformly as- serted that, to their entire satisfaction and certain knowledge, speaking of matters that relate to good government, the honest men, according to their BRYAN PERDVE. 17 phraseology, always hold the reins of state, and the rogues never : the natioa is therefore most happily and at all times in perfectly good hands. In this however there is a kind of acknowledgment that there are rogues, although most fortunately they never govern ; and this I cannot but suppose to be a very grievous public affliction : at least, it is so to me. There is another thing, which ap- pears to be paradoxical, and which is that, in the course of my life, I have seen the honest men and the acknow- ledged rogues change places too often to be remembered ! So that the honest men have all been turned adrift, and the rogues have taken upon themselves the stations, powers, and dignities of governors* However, I must also allow that, whenever this has happened, no matter how often, these public-spirited, open-hearted, fair-speeched gentlemen IS MEMOIRS OF have never failed to confess, nay they have publicly declared, that the rogues were all become honest men, and that every one of the honest men were turned rogues. Now, as these public-spirited, open- hearted, fair-speeched gentlemen and members of parliament have been chosen, by the people, for their known honesty, and are the representatives and guardians of the public honor, which, that of royalty excepted, is of all situations on earth the most digni- fied ; as they are also perfectly in the secret of things, and as they are con- sistent and invariable in these their affirmations ; I cannot but conclude that it is the pure nature of government, which has the secret virtue of instantly inclining rogues to become honest men. Yet, how and why should the con- trary of this happen ? and by what BRYAN PERDUE. 19 fascination, or diabolical influence, do the honest men, being out, all become rogues? I grant this is matter to per- plex the sober intellect ; and to suggest or beget mystery : which, being such, I can no otherwise understand than by faith : and my great respect for peace, added to the allegiance which I and all men duly owe to those who rule, have at all times determined me to believe in the public-spirited, open-hearted, fair- speeched gentlemen. In them my ig- norance obliges me to place my political salvation ; and my indolence further inclines me to hope that my risk is not great. Still, however, I maintain, that, this is a mystery : not perhaps to others., but, to me. I own that my knowledge of men and things is great, and that even on this subject, as well as^on all others, I have conceived it to be indeed wonder- ful ! But here, alas, I begin to under- 20 MEMOIRS OF stand that it is my ignorance which is indeed wonderful ! For I hear every one around me willingly acknowledge that their thoughts are so clear, and their discoveries so great, that nothing is concealed from the quickness of their penetration : whereas I find my brain totally perplexed, confounded, nay terrified, if I propose so simple a ques- tion to myself as how is it possible for any man to betray his country ? Now the reader well knows how heartily all the world would laugh at me, were I openly to doubt of such a possibility. I know it myself, since I have even been laughed at by my servant, John, for maintaining such a doubt. With respect to rogueries, I pretend not to penetrate into any greater than those in which I have been trained ; and, they being no less than to de- ceive, plunder, and ruin, every one for BRYAN PERDUE. 21 whom I pretended the least friendship, I am simple enough to imagine were really bad enough. Alas ! I find i have been thinking of any thing but my own memoirs ! But, so it is ; whenever rogues are the sub- ject, such is the influence which habit has over me, I am continually apt to. be led astray. <22 MEMOIRS OF CHAPTER HI. My Father a Rogue, and of what Kind: more concerning social and pestilential Rogues : Gamblers and Peers, That I may not be misunderstood, when I thus frankly though painfully acknowledge that my father was most famous, in his day, for his great dex- terity and enterprize in the art of cheating, of which* I can assure the reader, though I am heartily ashamed, he never was, but made it his boast and glory, when not overheard by the skulks and sneaks, meaning the honest men, and when he sat as president, or prime minister, surrounded, listened to, and admired by his faithful fraternity of rogues, I say, in order that these BRYAN PERDUE. 2S memoirs should be perfectly clear and well digested, it is necessary that I should state in what branch of roguery he had become a proficient. To avoid giving offence, I will for- bear to mention, either by way of comparison or illustration, any one of those arts and mysteries that the over- scrupulous and discontented proclaim to be dangerous establishments, some one of which the reader might too hastily conclude I am now about to name, and will inform him that, wick- ed as I own my father was, he was only a gambler. It can scarcely escape the penetra- tion of any reader of mine that gam- blers, though vile enough in all con- science, still are not by any means such dangerous rogues as those of many other professions ; for their rogueries are open, and avowed : whereas other 24 MEMOIRS OF rogues conspire together to declare and publish their honesty to all man- kind ; nay, and require it to be ac- knowledged that it is not possible for them, or for any one of the members of their art and mystery, to be other than honest men. In thus warning all headlong and mistaken youth against gambling, while I inform the world that my father was a gambler, I necessarily imply and allow also that he was a rogue. But truth and justice require it to be noted that my father did not further mislead, by the still more abominable pretence that the profession of gambling was the profession of a united body of honest men. No, a gambler is an avowed rogue. Be it further observed that I only speak of the social rogues, as before distinguished, and not of the pestilential, BRYAN PERDUE. 25 of whom, though I only acknowledge to have heard, I do confess I have dreadful dreams and doubts. Truth likewise requires me to con- fess that my father was not merely a gambler, which implies all that has before been implied, but that he was also a methodical incorporated gam- bler ; one of those that are well known, by herding together, as well as by their singularities of speech and beha- viour, which they affect or fall into from imitation. Perhaps, they likewise have the de- lusion of admiring themselves, and their fraternity. Or, perhaps — (the wicked are ever childish) — they have the futile vanity of wishing to appear to lead what is called the fashion j since many great lords, and gentlemen of the haut ton, as I am told, are ex. cessively anxious to rival them, in VOL. I. C 26 MEMOIRS OF dress, phrase, and behaviour ; things which all the rest of the world hold in ridicule and contempt. I must own this is something sur- prising ! for men have agreed, as it were by universal consent, to give those appellations to gamblers which express odium, aversion, and dread. Each gambler is called rook, black-leg, bully, swindler, and if possible worse. He is considered as a fellow 7 who is ready to commit every private injury, and afterward to vaunt of his power: a kind of demon, that laughs and mocks at those whom he can allure. All this he does in the very cunning of his soul, which, when he does mischief, then only appears to be rejoiced. He will further challenge and dare the world to deny he is a gentleman -, for he finds it no less necessary than delightful to frighten people into a BRYAN PERDUE. 27 pretended belief of this; since, were it otherwise, he could never become the companion of the rich; nay, the familiar, and bosom friend of peers. Peers was formerly a word that im- plied much, and was supposed to in- clude many gifts, and virtues, which were held to be the true foundation of nobility. In these times, peers had a predilection in favor of genius: by them it was held in honorable respect, and they granted their smiles, distinc- tions, and rewards, in favor of its nota- ble and worthy deeds. Whenever I cast a retrospective look, like this, I can scarcely doubt that, could the peers of old arise in all their glory, and could their towering and lofty thoughts be brought so to de- scend as to glance at the present germs and sprouts of their own loins, mean- ing none but those who have the com- panions and propensities I have slightly c 2 28 MEMOIRS OF hinted at— yes, could those ancient worthies behold the shoots, suckers, and parasite plants, who in this age call themselves peers, perhaps, the mighty ancestors, whom these shoots, suckers, and parasite plants so much pretend to honor, while contemplating their degenerate race, would straight in- voke their tombs again to cover them. This however I confess to be merely a conjecture. I hope it is no more than one of my cottage fears. BRYAN PERDUE, 29 CHAPTER IV. My Father's Partiality for Ireland, with his Prose and Poetical Account of that Island. I have several things further, to say, concerning my origin and parents. Circumstances, events, and experi- ence, have confirmed me in the melan- chofy persuasion that there are rogues of all countries, and many more than might be wished. In the discharge of my conscience, I also mean to point out, as far as I conceive the manner of so doing, which way such and such incidents lead to such and such con- sequences: it is therefore incumbent upon me to state that my father was a. native, or, as he never failed to deno- c 3 30 MEMOIRS OK minate himself, a gentleman of Ire- land. How have his pictures of ould Ire- land, as he used to call it, delighted my youthful mind ! How continually would he boast that it was his coun- try ; and how often have I grieved that it was not altogether mine ! His descriptions glow in my memory ! Listen but to one of them ! " Oh, by the living Lamb, put all the countries in the world in a bag, and the whole lot of them is not worth little Ireland. They are not to be named in the same day; and, faith, now I remimber, I don't at all believe they were made and created at the same time. Because why ? there is more ginerosity, more hospitality, more good faith, more frindship, and bitter claret in Ireland than in all the world beside ; which I would not ad- vise any man on earth to contradict BRYAN PERDUE. 31 or deny. Thin, as to what they call their christian virtues, why the Irish were the first to sind their saints and martyrs, with good ould Saint Patrick the father of thim all at their hidd, to plant their blissed cross, and tache the vile pagans a little of what was what. And thin there was a plintiful assort- ment of books and writings, among the ould Irish, before it had ever been heard by any soul on earth that there was a single crater any where to be found who could read j which, sure, is proof enough of their learning. And beside that they had all those kind of things which they call arts and sciences; and had thim all at their finger's inds long enough before any of these sort of matters were known at all at all: all of which my own cousin, Mr. O'HaL- laghan has written a great bit of a book about. But what do I talk of c 4 32 MEMOIRS OF christian virtues ? Sure, are not we the most jocular, the bravest, the brave ! Let us alone for a few duels, my dear ! And thin our women ! Oh, the sweet craters ! Surely a gintleman of Ireland is no gintleman that does not people his own parish, and presint every one of his tinants with a sweet miniature picture of himself. I mane a bit of a whole lingth portrait, that is so viry like, why it is quite alive and runs alone. And thin for our ateing and drinking, why, who the divle that is not a spalpeen, w r ould iver be seen to go to bidd sober ? Oh, my dear Bryan, that you had but been born when I was a boy, and had gone with me every Michelmas fair to the faste of O'Connor. Faith, and I wish I could give you but a bit of a descrip- tion of the thing, for it would tingle in your ears as long as you live ! Such BRYAN PERDUE. 3S ateing, and drinking, and bawling, and squalling, and laughing, and cry- ing " Oh, the sweet little divles were wanton and frisky, With ateing salt hirring, and drinking of whisky, With hugging, and kissing, and piping, and prancing, 'T would do your heart good had you seen 'em all dancing ' Said Sheelah O'Shug — Arrah, Thady, be asy t You touze and you tug, by my soul you're all crazy ! Tara lal lara ial lara lal lara liou, Oh, hone a chree, honey — whoop ! — how does your mother do ? *' But the while they were tippling came Mur- doch O'Bralaghan, Swearing he'd murder poor Lary O'Calaghan ; Then in with Shilalee came Rodrick O'Connor, [That was my first Cousin] To be sure, how he bother'd them all about honour ; c 5 34 MEMOIRS OF For he had the kingdom Connaught, by birtb- right, A thousand good summer* before he saw day- light. Tara lal lal, &c. " Mac Dermot came in, with a bounce, and a flirt, For his fathers were kings too, that had not a shirt. [That is because they were kings long before the wearing of shirts was invinted] And there too the proud mother's son of O'Hara Gave beggars the bones, when he'd suck'd out the marrow. The tight lads fell out, and the lasses were scar'd ; You'd have laugh'd had you seen how the blind piper star'd. With my tara lal, &c. " Oh, the sweet faste of O'Connor ! whin we all came togither, one after another, to bid a wilcome to his birth- day. Long life, says I, to the sons of BRYAN PERDUE. 35 O'Connor ! May they go dancing to their coffins, ay, and after their dith ! says Turlough. May their doors be always open, and their heart niver shut! says Dermot. May their eni- mies die in a bog ! says Fhelim. And niver sleep in a bidd, says I, while their frinds have always plinty of hilth, wilth, wine, and whisky- which is the bist of all. I shall niver forget O'Con- ner's answer to us all. Oh, says he, may the sweet soul of Con, the hairo of the hundred battles, and my great ancistor, look down upon and bliss you all ! Why Larry, and Rory, and Far, where are ye? Bring out the Whisky 1 Lit the frinds of my fadther's house ate, and drink, and make their good ould Irish hearts glad ! " Oh, the plisure it is, to hehould with my eyes^ The deeds of my fadthers remimber'd so well! To sec ray fine frinds, without fraud or disguise, Assimblc their honest amotion to tell ! c 6 56 MEMOIRS OF The good ould milaisian, that niver would mingle His stream with a puddle, from north or from south, Oh, it sitts all the blood in my body to tingle, And makes my warm heart caper up to my mouth ! " And thin, to be sure, the battle royal which put an ind to it all ! Had you seen the well shaped tough shilalees, with which we all knocked at the doors, I mane at the ears, of our bist frinds, and often found nobody at home ! Oh, good luck to your life-time, but that is a thing not to be forgotten ! And so I knew viry well, before I lift it, there was not another ould Ireland any where to be found ; which is the raison that I am at all times riddy to acknowledge that the Irish spake the bist English, have the most good breed- ing, the finest cities, the best rivers, lakes and waters, the sweetest country, BRYAN PURDUE. 37 and the bravist people, with Ivery thing of the sort that can be wished in all the world and his majesty's dominions into the bargain ! And this, I say, I should rejoice to hear any man think proper to deny, whether I am present or whe- ther I am not." 38 MEMOIRS OP CHAPTER V. Doubts of the Envious: my Father's Fame: my present Purity and Contrition : Va- nity not unexampled. What I have here repeated is but a brief and laconic sample of my father^ overflowing superabundant oratory of this nature; for, when Ireland was the subject, his praises and characteristic songs were inexhaustible. It therefore grieves me to be obliged to own that I have heard discreet, liberal minded, and upright men, even among the Irish,, though it was with compunction, con- fess, on particular occasions now and then, that some of their countrymen are to be found whose open, bare faced, and downright rogueries do certainly BRYAN PERDUE. 3$ outstrip those of any other nation. But then they have also shrewdly added, that, this only proves how greatly they excel others in all their undertakings, For my own part, being as it were not exclusively of either country, yet partly of both, I have always listened to such allegations with a kind of un- certainty ; and, when I have heard any candid person advance that there were good and bad in all countries, I have generally been of the same opinion. However, thus far I went with the ac- cusers, namely, in a strong conviction that, for impudent familiarity (I am obliged to speak the truth) obtrusive but cunning insinuation, the consum- mate scientific cheat, and the desperado bully, I never yet saw my father's equal. No one will do me the injustice to suppose that I do now agree with him, I mean my father, in opinion, however 40 MEMOIRS OF my boyhood might be deceived; though I have often and pertinaciously heard him swear, by his whole string of fa- vorite oaths, that he was an honor to his country. On the other hand, I by no means in- tend to deny the shining talents of which it was his delight to make so great a parade. He acquired them early in life, and so high was his re- nown for having duped and ruined those who would admit him to their fa- miliarity in Dublin (and it was difficult to keep him at a distance) that his fame preceded his arrival in London. I have often heard him vaunt of the high ex- pectations, which his exploits in Ireland had excited, among all the gamblers of this happy country. I hope I shall not be reproached for appearing to be vain of my father's su- perior talents; for that again w T ould be an unjust interpretation. I can assure BRYAN PERDUE. 41 the world, with a truly contrite heart, I am not ; but that I am using my honest, true, and loyal endeavours to give a faithful narrative of facts, to in- struct and guide the youthful, the foolish, and the unwary. And yet I am credibly informed that, if I even were thus hardened in iniquity, nay, and were to pretend to arrogate praise to myself, and to my family, for actions that had nearly brought us all to condign punishment, I should by no means be without an example. I have heard it said, even of the vilest of the pestilential rogues, that, notwithstanding their nefarious malversations and whole- sale crimes were publicly known, they have pretended, first to all the wealth and honors, and, afterward, to all the grace and favor his blessed majesty had the power to bestow ! But this, I am morally certain, must be the most ma- lignant detraction : there cannot be a 42 MEMOIRS OF man at once so vicious, so profligate, and so utterly abandoned and callous to every sense of shame. I hope no man will be so unjust as to affirm that I have or can have any ma- lice, when I thus modestly state what I have heard reported ; and when I thus publicly avow, I cannot believe such wicked things to be true. I have a better opinion of human nature : but I live in the country, and am liable to be deceived* BRYAN PERDUE. 43 CHAPTER VI. Family Anecdotes : my Father's Motive for Marriage, and indisputable Title to Honor : my own great Talents : Rea- sons for bringing me to London to be born. If is only a knowledge of facts, in their due order, that can so connect and chain events together as that they can give a faithful portrait of any man. I therefore here think it right to relate many early particulars of my family and myself. In this respect, those which I heard from my father I may presume to be true, and for two reasons ; first, because I could not perceive any motive that should induce him to use disguise, and, 44 MEMOIRS OF next, because the account, that he is now going to give, is of things that hap- pened before I was born. " In the matter of disposing of mysilf in marriage, why, I must own, that I was greenhorn enough to be pigeoned ; because why, I did not know the profit and loss that might be made of a fine person and an oily tongue, both of which, by my honor and soul, I had to perfiction. I was invaigled and coaxed and parlarvered into a marriage with my Lady Charlotte Hair-Trigger, which was my Lord Hair-Trigger's eldest sister, who was himsilf born a ruined man ; beside which, he spint his fa- ther's estate, I mane his grandfather's, three times over; and so, though his sister and relations had not a shilling before, he lift them all penniless after- ward. But, as he was now become one of the deep ones himsilf, and at the very hidd of them all, only that I BRYAN PERDUE* 45 was above him, why my skame was that, if I married Lady Charlotte, her ladyship's title would be a bit of a pass- port for me : not at all remimbering to consider that I wanted no such thing, for I always carried my passport about me. And, surely, a brave Irish gintleman cannot be in any the laste want of a thing of that kind, when he is blist with a gintale person and address, not to mintion a bit of a tight sly fine handsome face, that is not asily put out of countenance, and whin he is a man that can snuff a candle, at any rason- able distance, with a pistol bullet. Oh, faith, these are accomplishments that will carry a private gintleman snugly through life, and will lade him to ate and drink, and hold up his hidd in the way of conversation, though all the up- start lords, and proud pudding-hidded dukes and dutchesses, that ever sprung 46 MEMOIRS OF from tare and tret, should look on to listen ; ay, and without once conde- scinding to take his eyes off any tallow- chandler's noble descindant, that should think proper to be impartinint enough to stare him in the face." This and similar narratives I have often heard, from my fathers and, as is evident, I endeavour, and shall conti- nue, whenever he is the interlocutor, to give the very words in which he spoke. This method I shall use in every case and person. The reader cannot but be perfectly convinced, hinting now at my own oratory, of the perspicuity, the preci- sion, and the uncommon eloquence, with which I deliver myself; and, therefore, how perfectly I must be sa- tisfied with my own manner. But, as I am never equally delighted with that of any other man, I must for once yield BRYAN PERDUE. 47 the question to those who argue in fa- vor of instinct, and allow my surprising elocution to be a natural gift. Another of the superior qualities which I possess, and they are many, is that of being able so well to remember the peculiarities, and frequently foolish way, in which others deliver their sen- timents : but, though I am convinced I could frequently explain their mean- ing, when I perceive they cannot ex- plain it themselves, I yet hold it my duty to preserve the utmost veracity, and w T rite down the very words that were spoken, by the persons of whom I have to discourse. I think I might defy any man to do the like with equal accuracy : but that is nothing to the purpose. My frankness is my chief virtue : those that cannot see it are blind. My father is again about to speak. 7 many flats, why there would niver be so many dogs, and horses, and all the gintale accomplishments that shew off, no, nor so much as a man of fashion to be seen parading about -, and I mysilf, why I should have been nobody at all at all, and might now have been dig- ging in a potatoe garden, which, by the holy beard of the twilve Apostles, would have been a disgrace to a gin- tleman, whin his tight bit of a good looking face should niver have made the dutchesses, and the countesses, and all the rist of them, angry, and plased, and crying, and dying, and ivery thing ilse that is agreeable," t>8 MEMOIRS OF CHAPTER X. When and why Rogues are repentant : of the Nature of Ambition ; and the equi- vocal Meaning of Words : of my Father's Person and Gallantry, and the intolerable Impudence of Rogues. Such was the morality of my father ; and it is evident that he thought his system the only rational one. It appears very strange, yet it is every day proved to be true, that the very worst of rogues, till they are under sentence of death perhaps, consider themselves as oppressed, nay, injured, insulted, and persecuted, if any one thinks proper to question their con- duct. Why should not they have the ' full liberty of continuing to take all BRYAN PERDUE. 69 the benefit that can possibly be de- rived from being rascals ? What af- fair, sir, is it of yours ? Who made you so busy ? Look to yourself, or beware ! When, indeed, they see the halter, or the axe, waiting for them, cowardice, or cunning, but not conviction, gene- rally induces them to whine, pretend repentance, and petition to be once more put upon their good behaviour : but, while there is a possibility to brave punishment, and engender doubt and dispute, the colossus at Rhodes never stood with a more impenetrable unblushing face of bronze than that with which they look down on their pigmy accusers, and appear to defy any storms that they can raise. Social or pestilential, in this rogues are all alike. With respect to my father's mode of reasoning, it was bitter as worm- wood to the gentle soul of my dear lady mother ; and, though any sudddh 70 MEMOIRS OF breaking of the heart is a phenomenon but rarely seen, yet, the gradual and sudden declining to the grave is an every day fact ; and I should therefore fear that those who shut their eyes to it have very little feeling. This gra- dual silent early grave was that of my poor dear lady mother. There is another unpleasant truth, which the chain of events in these me- moirs requires to be here confessed. The vice of gaming was not the only malefaction of my father, nor the sole means in his possession of procuring ephemeral fame, which appeared to be the delight and passion of his heart. I have heard of horribly wicked men, who have been, nay, and of some that still are, actuated by what is denominated a great and glorious ambition. When I find such a word thus miserably abused, I conceive virtue BRYAN PERDiUE. 71 to endure so wicked and deep a stab that, were the thing possible, her vi- tality would be lost ; and nothing hereafter would be beheld on earth but wild confusion, seeking to destroy, mad in its instruments and means, and inflicting, not merely the desolation of cities and kingdoms, but, universal warfare, uproar, and at last the total extermination of the human race. This picture, Heaven be praised, does not appertain to my father; but, I have no doubt, it would have been his perfect portrait, had circumstances concurred to make him a hero. The word ambition, like most other words, has been so tortured, into dif- ferent meanings, that it has no precise meaning. Could it always be seen in the dignified company of truth, then indeed it would be a word of great and glorious import. When the powers of man are employed to any of the pur- 7*2 MEMOIRS OF poses of universal utility, no words can describe his worth, his virtue, or his fame. Here I am sure of the reader : he is certain to be of my opi- nion, for he is certain to think of him- self. My father had a consciousness, which seemed ever present, that his person was remarkably proper, tall, and hand- some ; and finding a titillating and frothy delight in the insipid common place flattery of those idle, weak, and vain women, w T ho were willing or ra- ther eager to lend a foolish ear, he made what such flirts and coxcombs called more conquests than I can name ; and occasioned family distrac- tions, and multifarious separations and divorces, more, alas, than I wish to^ remember. While I live, such forget- fulness is denied me : the Lethe of the poet is but the allegory of death. This, as I have already observed, he BRYAN PERDUE. 73 was pleased to consider as his greatest glory, and found a kind of ineffable de- light in continuing to think and act the same, long before his marriage and ever after, without appearing to have the slightest momentary compunction, or conceiving himself to be the least restrained by the bonds of marriage. I have therefore always entertained the opinion, which I have before mention- ed, that these practices had their am- ple share in contributing to the de- cline and death of my dear and loving lady mother. Is it not astonishing that, when wick- edness is the most notorious and indu- bitable, in act, and the most pernicious, universal, and detestable, in effect, the authors of it should then most flagrant- ly and loudly call on the world for ap- probation ? Nay, that it should pro- claim the injury done to it, if this ad- miration be denied \ and becomes, de- void I. E 71 MEMOIRS 0¥ mons themselves not more, implacable, if its destructive progress meet either counteraction or obstacle. Alas, I am dreaming of a hero ! I fear I often forget myself, and trouble my mind with hypothetical suppositions of evils, as if such things really existed. Forgive, my good reader, these ravings of the fancy. Remember I am now shut up in soli" tude ; think them, what to be sure they must be, fearful visions, such as igno- rance is apt to form. You, who live in the world, doubtless know better, and smile at such crazy illusions. IRYAN PERDUE. 75 CHAPTER XL An Authors Qualms : Virtue and Vice : the Good and the Bad ought to be told : a sly Specimen of quaint Wit : a Flan and a Recollection. Since my retirement, I have been so busied, and I may say delighted, with my own speculative opinions, all of which I take this opportunity of re- marking are of a very important and profound nature, that I know but lit- tle of what is passing in the world, and can suppose it to be greatly amended, its manners much better, its mode of reasoning more accurate, and its cus- toms in general highly improved. Conjecturing this, I fear almost at every period to repeat what the world E2 76 MEMOIRS OF may now call common place, jejune, insipid, or similar epithets, denoting weariness ; books perhaps, like men, are now so perfect: but, in what I may call my time, I know the world would have been amazed to have met with a book of such uncommon genius as that I am now writing. I hope, however, it .will not be thought a defect, in these memoirs, that I have made some delay to re- late how much I revere the memory of my dear lady mother, and the melt- ing and gentle affection with which I now and ever shall recollect her. I also suppose it to be but an act of justice to give anecdotes of virtue, as well as of vice ; especially when, like these that I am writing, they are elucidatory. Nay, I almost suspect that if, instead of my own memoirs, I had written the annals of virtue, that is, the history of some person who had BRYAN PERDUE. 77 been virtuous from youth upward, my task might have been more pleasing to myself, and more beneficial to others. But then I must confess I could not with the same facility have found a person, whose life I could honestly commit to paper. The reader knows such a person, for he knows himself; but I am not of his acquaintance. In memoirs of this kind there ought to be no concealment, no prevarication, nor the least false colouring; the re- semblance should be perfect. With respect to that of my ever ho- nored lady mother, I should have con- ceived myself to have been guilty of great injustice, had it been here omit- ted. Since I so freely make public all that was bad, why ought I to repress, conceal, or disfigure, that which was the sweet image of goodness and beau- ty personified ? I grant the proverb is very homely, E 3 78 MEMOIRS OF but, I have ever held it as exceedingly just to give the devil his due ; and this will be more clearly explained by ano- ther proverb, which may be called the twin brother of the former, and which is, that, the devil is not always so black as he is painted. The reader cannot be biind to the ingenuity, or more properly the wit, with which I have introduced these every day proverbs, and given the whole quite an original turn ; instead of simply and at once telling him, that, my family was a mixture of good and evil. Why do I doubt the reader ? A mo- merit's recollection tells me that I know him as well as I know myself: we are two most admirable perfect and original specimens of the animal man, according to the Linnaean system. I have been obliged to repeat, I know not how often alreadv, that, in these BRYAN PERDUE. i9 memoirs, composed and written ac- cording to that most excellent plan which I have invented and prescribed to myself, the truth must and shall be told. Now I mention plan, it reminds me of an honest preacher, in my neigh- bourhood, whom I constantly attend, and who at this present time has three old women and myself, every Sunday, for his auditors. The women are his two maiden sisters, and his old aunt. This honest divine's plan is and has been for some time past — he shall tell you his plan in his own words. e 4 80 MEMOIRS OF CHAPTER XII. An Introduction to what follows. Before I proceed, I must first state, that, he was inducted to the benefice of the small parish where I reside about three years ago; that he has conscien- tiously performed his holy functions himself 3 that, holding it little less than a deadly sin to commit duties so serious to another, he has constantly been a resident; and that his opening ser- mon was to the following effect : A SERMON.