SIR,

To Mr. JAMES FRASER.

IN the first number of the Spectator, Addison happily observes, that a reader seldom peruses a book with pleasure till he knows whether

the writer of it be a black or a fair man, of a mild or choleric disposition, married or a bachelor; with other particulars of the like nature, that conduce very much to the right understanding of an author. Now if this be true of the public (and who will doubt it?) how much more true must it be of the publisher? I do not, however, Mr. Fraser, feel disposed to gratify in its full extent the curiosity you must naturally entertain. It is not my intention to present myself before you in the flesh. My appearance is now so far from prepossessing, that it would win me little favour in your eyes. Age, dissipation, and misfortune, have done

their work upon features which were never remarkable for beauty; and my best suit (but why should I speak in the superlative?) my only good suit is at present under the avuncular protection. I shall therefore be content with giving you such a description of myself as may serve for an introduction to the paper I herewith offer to your notice; and prevent it from labouring under your contempt, as appearing not merely in the guise of a stranger, but in that of a nameless outcast, flung upon the world uncared for and disowned by all.

Do not suppose, however, that I mean to claim for my production any noble or lofty parentage; it is the offspring of one utterly undistinguished, save by the buffets of Dame Fortune. In sooth, sir, I might accurately explain to you my moral and physical condition in the words of Shelley:

pened to be tenanted by several demons, who, under the adjurations of the exorcist, were compelled severally to display their proper hideousness by the contortions of the human countenance. Let me, then, simply inform you of my present condition, habits, and pursuits, and relate to you some few passages in my mortal pilgrimage.

I am one of those unfortunate persons barely supplied with the necessaries of life, and those few comforts which an advanced state of civilisation throws within the reach of all, excepting the veriest wretches belonging to the soil. I am not like the ancient Fenni-yet I envy them; and, indeed, have often thought of betaking myself to a savage life: but a consideration of my increasing years and lost activity as constantly restrained me. I have (or may have, if I manage properly) a tolerable dinner to eat, a warm bed to

lie in, a coat good enough to keep off the cold-depellere frigus, and I am peaceable in my habits and gentle in my bearing; yet I entirely sympathise with the philosophic barbarians: "Fennis mira feritas, fœda paupertas: non arma, non equi, non penates: victui herba-vestitui pelles-cubili humus." But what was their feeling? "Id beatius arbitrantur, quàm ingemere agris, illaborare domibus, suas alienasque fortunas spe metuque versare." And what was their reward? "Securi adversùs homines, securi adversùs deos, rem difficillimam assecuti sunt, ut illis ne voto quidem opus sit!" But, alas for me! albeit as little disposed as these same Fenni "ingemere agris, illaborare domibus, meas alienasque fortunas spe metuque versare," I have not the reward. I am cursed with many wants unsupplied, with many wishes unattainable, with many tantalising insulting spectres of by-gone happy hours, of rapturous enjoyments, and of proud passages in mortal existence, when man, half free of his humanity, feels his spirit spread abroad in majesty and in power, and knows himself" in intellect a god."

I am cursed, too, in being the veriest slave of Circumstance. I am in the condition of a beast driven through a field, upon which plenty and luxuriance smiles, but confined for enjoyment and support to the narrow limits and the coarse and scanty produce of the dull, beaten pathway, from which he must not wander; or if he does, even for a yard, he is driven back with many stripes, and so hurried onward in the ancient track, as to be unable to avail himself of the miserable browsing it affords. In other words, if I venture to indulge in any thing approaching luxury -indeed, in any thing beyond the gratification of man's ordinary wants-I am destined to atone for it by some proportional privation. Thus, for instance, if I astonish my digestive organ with a pint of wine-which it dislikes not-I know full well, and feel most bitterly, that it must pay the penalty of this agreeable surprise, by going dinnerless some day, before the commencement of the ensuing month ushers into my pocket the twelfth part of the annuity upon which I exist.

It is no very splendid annuity, Mr. Fraser; and yet I may (if to lead a sort of vegetable life be an advantage) consider myself fortunate to possess it.

I

I won it by gaming. Shrink not from me, sir, because of this avowal. have long since ceased to gamble, and gambled only for a short period. I was then, sir, an unhappy, and disappointed, and solitary man, conscious that nearly half my days had run to waste, and that on those which yet remained it was scarcely possible that hope, or love, or fame, or friendship, could shed one glorious gleam.

I had tried all things, and in all had I found little but bitterness and disappointment. I had been robbed by my guardian, jilted by my ladyelove, betrayed by my friend, thwarted, crossed, ruined in my ambition. Oh, sir, for me life was utterly stripped of its illusions!

At first I had recourse to drinking; but in this I found little relief. A man must be sometimes sober, and then, in moments of deep despondency of mind and dread prostration of physical power, he pays an awful retribution for even hours of reckless excitement and forgetfulness of evil. I soon discovered this, and abandoned the wine-cup. One other stimulus remained for me-one, too, which was sure to last as long as I was worth a shilling to supply it withal—and that is to say, thought I, as long as it will be worth my while to be a breathing man. I'll be a gambler-I'll play with caution, with coolness, upon a regular system. I'll go to Paris-rather let me have recourse to this vile stimulus in a foreign land than in my own. And if I win a fortune, as a man so passionless as I now am can scarcely choose but do, I'll purchase at least the fame of Sostratus the architect, by leaving my name inscribed upon some structure of utility and splendour, which shall command the admiration of posterity, though it fail to win its gratitude. Thus, Mr. Fraser, thus will we, in our passionate longing after immortality with a world we perhaps despise, cling even to the hope of that mute and worthless remembrance of our name, and our mere name only, which can be transmitted to other ages by a chiselled stone!

Well, sir, I did go to Paris, taking with me some 7000/., the relic of an ample fortune, and then did I truly commence "meas alienasque fortunas spe metuque versare." I played upon a regular system, which I had bought from a ruined gambler for 100/., and

which certainly did as nearly as might be approach that perfection which would ensure success to one playing with a large capital, and content to win a small stake.

It is true, the condition of the original proprietor was not calculated to encourage a man to put much faith in the system; but then he had been only enabled to perfect it precisely at the moment he had lost his last sous.

My 100l., too, soon disappeared under its auspices; but no wonder ! it wanted the other cipher to give it proper weight. If it had been a thousand, he must have made a fortune.

it

I played on, and every day was I witness to metamorphoses almost as foul as Circe's. The " jolly caster" of one evening was the despised and insulted looker-on of the next. I saw that, independent of all unfair play, it was impossible-from the say 2 per cent to the table upon every transfer of money from one hand to another, and from the fact of men having to play against a great bank, and worst of all, against their own passions was impossible to win without a large capital and a safe and steady system. Many a finely-woven scheme, too, did I see fail. But these I will not attempt to explain. Again, some always bet on the black, others on the redsome always backed the caster "in," others always backed the caster "out;" and I found the difference to be precisely that laid down in the philosophic apologue: "FABRICIUS ALWAYS BACKED THE CASTER OUT,' CATO ALWAYS BACKED THE CASTER IN.' THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THEM AT THE LAST WAS, THAT THE HAIR OF FABRICIUS HAD GROWN THROUGH HIS HAT, AND THE TOES OF CATO HAD GROWN THROUGH HIS SHOES."

My system, however, flourished. I brought my whole capital into the market each night, and was content to win 100/. The moment I had secured this I retired, unless, by the chances of the last event, I had some surplus. To this I gave a shy, having first irrevocably buttoned my pocket on all beside. If I won, I played on-when I lost, I departed under the protection of a gendarme I kept in pay.

The excitement was perpetual, and great even to pain. Sleeping or waking, my thoughts ran upon cards and dice. If not actually playing, I was calcu

lating chances with reference to the infallibility of my system, from the events pour et contre of the night before; or if asleep, I was dreaming of play. The dice were rattling in my ear, followed ever and anon by the monotonous bass sounds wherewith the familiars of the hell announced joy or sorrow to a crowd of panting hearts.

During this period I lived in the most retired manner- scarcely tasted wine-frequented no place of public amusement -was in no society; — in short, lived, breathed, moved, and had my being merely for the purposes of play. At length, on one disastrous night, fortune delivered me over to my evil genius: I lost the greatest part of my large capital by a combination of unlucky circumstances, so wonderful, so apparently impossible, that my scheme had not provided against them. With Fortune, Prudence speedily deserted me: these divinities can never remain long separate. I lost my self-command · all power of calculating-almost all power of thinking. In half an hour, every thing I had in the world was gone, except one Napoleon, which I had set apart in my waistcoat as a present for my gendarme. I did not need his company that night I should never want it more. I flung down the miserable relic on the colour which had ruined me, and sunk back into my chair, sightless, speechless, motionless. The bitterness of death was upon me. In the near approach of dissolution, my soul seemed free from its fleshly bonds to roam abroad unlimited by time, or place, or distance. My brain was flooded with recollections - a vision of my whole life was rolled athwart my mind the old hall in which I was born the dear familiar faces of my childhood the adored shades of my parents were before me; but my father looked sad upon me, and my soul sickened when I thought how bootless, how worthless had been my existence how little had I justified his fond hopes, his proud paternal aspirations!

"Light after light in my soul had diedThe early glorious dreams!"

And, O merciful Heaven!

"The holy prayer from my thoughts had passed

The prayer at my mother's knee !"

My poor mother! And my love, my false love, was there-and my faithless friend and the awful immensity of shadow-peopled space was yawning around me.

I know not how long I remained in this state I had fainted. On awaking, I found myself in an adjoining apartment.

It

There was an exceedingly bitter taste in my mouth - it had been filled with salt; and my head was supported by a very fair but erring sister of charity, who held her smelling-bottle to my nostrils. She was an opera-dancer, in whose society I had been in the habit of passing some of the few leisure hours in which I could tear myself from my occupation. She was a beautiful and gentle creature a flower that, if nurtured in another soil, the proudest might have felt honoured and delighted in taking to his bosom. I admired and pitied, and, in another condition, should have loved her; for in form, and feature, and intellect, she had every thing which could make woman lovely; and she was the victim of circumstances, not of evil dispositions; yet she was dissipated and extravagant, and, lastly, like myself, a gambler, and almost always unfortunate. Hence our acquaintance. was in the salon I had first met her; and on a thousand occasions had I repaired her imprudences, supplied her exigencies, and gratified her fancies with a lavish hand. She was not ungrateful. The first words I heard, uttered in the deep yet soft and gentle tone of woman's intensest feeling, were, "Et vous avez tout perdu?" "Oui, Eulalie," I gasped forth, "j'ai tout perdu.' A mute and gentle embrace was the only reply; but it well assured me that, wretched as I was destitute as I was- hopeless as I was, there breathed one fond being upon the earth who would not shrink from me in my misery. It touched me - and I could have wept like a weary child. But the savageness of destitution forbade me to give way to any kindly emotion. My heart was seared; I muttered a farewell, and attempted to rise and leave her; but she clung to me, and whispered in my ear that I should not part from her that she would have ample means to support us both until I should retrieve my fortunes and that, by both abandoning the vice to which we had been victims,

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we should be enabled to live together tranquilly and happily, and for ever. I could not avoid smiling, well pleased at the poor girl's enthusiasm, and pausing on the idea of self-destruction while there was yet in the world a being so single-hearted and so lovely, who took interest in my fate. On the moment I half forgot my destitute condition, under the influence of her endearments; and, by a strange revulsion of feeling, that reckless gaiety

"Which makes the scaffold echo with
the jest,"

swelled within my bosom as I remembered the advice of the silver-footed Thetis to her sore-afflicted son; and I exclaimed, "Well, then, dearest Eulalie, I will to-night accept the shelter of thy roof, and be happy-let my fate to-morrow be what it may !"

We rose to depart. In passing through the salon, I carelessly observed, "Eulalie, before I thought of dying, I threw down my last Napoleon on this colour: let us see what became of it before we go." It was yet there, but multiplied to the twelfth power. Twelve times in succession had the cards turned up in my favour; and the packs being then out, I was saved the chance of losing what I had so strangely won. My Napoleon had 5296 companions; and yet shall I confess it?-will you believe it? - my first exclamation was a curse that this run had not taken place while I had my usual large stakes to win upon. My better feelings, however, immediately prevailed; I seized the sum thus thrown back to me, as it were, from the very jaws of hell, and flew away rather than skimmed the earth with my delighted Eulalie, solemnly vowing that we would never gamble more.

Behold me now in a new and rather embarrassing position-the protector of an opera-dancer whom I had always liked exceedingly, and now had leisure to love. Eulalie was gentle, beautiful, accomplished, witty, gay, goodhumoured the most enchanting of companions; and I had full possession of her heart. But she was a coquette by nature, by practice, and by inveterate habit. Happiness was not to be my lot with love sprung up jealousy, the deadly giant-weed, and I was miserable when she was absent from my sight. I prevailed upon her to abandon the operato forego the

adoration of the Parisian million-to leave Paris. We retired to a small town in the south. Still I was not happy; still was she a coquette. The poor girl cheerfully and readily made every sacrifice I required, and I adored her for it. I knew that she loved me fondly as woman ever loved; still I could not avoid fearing that, from ineradicable lightness of character, she played me false. We were miserable, though neither ever breathed a murmur of complaint to the other. We were wasting away in the flames of our excessive passion. I resolved to leave -to release her. She was fading on my bosom, like a delicate flower in an ungenial clime.

I wrote to her, stating that, to preserve her life and restore her peace of mind, I bade her farewell; and that, for the very love I bore her, she should never see me-never hear of me more. The letter, containing words to this effect, and two-thirds of my remaining fortune, I left under her pillow as she slept; and kissing her sweet lips for the last time, I threw myself upon the world, once more a wretched, solitary wanderer.

I came to London, and purchased with the money I had reserved an annuity of 130l. a-year, payable monthly. My only desire had been to secure the necessaries of life. I have of course, from my own income, little more and from friends I derive no assistance, for no friends have I. Neither, if I had, am I, like many I have met, learned in the art of living upon them for one half of the year, and upon the public (i. e. credit) for the other. Like the friend of Juvenal, nulli comes exeo. I live in the midst of a busy world, wholly ignorant of its proceedings. My straitened circumstances compel me to lead an anxiously systematic life; and, like the same Umbritius, I have as yet found nulla emolumenta laborum to make those circumstances more easy.

Sometimes, it is true, I see a paper at the cheap dining-houses I frequent; but this happens so rarely, from the crowd of applicants, that it is truly to me as a solitary sibylline leaf, save that it treats of the past, and not, oracularly, of things to come. Formerly, too, I was wont to converse with any decent person I might happen to find masticating at my side; but this gratification I was compelled to forego, in

consequence of an occurrence which alarmed and afflicted me exceedingly. I was in the habit, for nearly two months, of meeting a young foreigner at one of these houses. His talents, as has been written of Pitt, were rich in their separate excellence, wonderful in their combination! He was painter, poet, and musician; he had studied much, had travelled in many countries, and possessed conversational powers never yet surpassed. Many a time have I been betrayed into the extravagance of drinking an additional go of gin by the fascination of his discourse; and when my purse was at the lowest, often have I remained sipping my pint of porter after the most protracted fashion, to prolong to the utmost the enjoyment I derived from his society. At last we became in some sort friends. He used frequently to take me to the Italian Opera, by orders he procured from one of the chief singers, and accompany me to the gallery, my costume not being suited to Fop's Alley. Imagine my dismay, sir, when, on entering the dining-room one day, I was informed that he had been taken up for attempting to steal a lady's reticule in the squeeze-room the night before, and was recognised at the police-office as a person long suspected. It was too true. He had committed petty larceny, been detected and punished for it, in almost every capital in Europe. He was tried at the Westminster sessions, convicted on the fullest evidence, and transported. He must have been labouring under mono-mania. It was positively proved he did not steal from want. I, however, was perfectly disgusted with the acquaintance of strangers, and felt thankful that I had escaped being with him; for had I been brought before the worthy magistrate, he would have infallibly sent me to the tread-mill for being poor and friendless.

Having, however, related so much of my past history, Mr. Fraser, you will perhaps think it time that I should say something about my present pursuits. They were suggested to me by the very nature of the sauntering life I am compelled to lead.

I am a book-collector-you smile; but I really am, and moreover master of an extremely curious collection, though I have rarely ventured to give more than a shilling for any single volume. Time and industry have