Coarse as the eloquence of this letter may appear, Anne could not read it without emotion: it raised in her heart a violent contest. Virtue, with poverty and famine, were on one side—and vice, with affluence, love, and every worldly pleasure, on the other.

Those who have been bred up in the lap of luxury; whom the breath of heaven has never visited too roughly; whose minds from their earliest infancy have been guarded even with more care than their persons; who in the dangerous season of youth are surrounded by all that the solicitude of experienced friends, and all that polished society, can devise for their security; are not perhaps competent to judge of the temptations by which beauty in the lower classes of life may be assailed. They who have never seen a father in prison, or a mother perishing for want of the absolute necessaries of life—they who have never themselves known the cravings of famine, cannot form an adequate idea of this poor girl’s feelings, and of the temptation to which she was now exposed. She wept—she hesitated—and “the woman that deliberates is lost.” Perhaps those who are the most truly virtuous of her sex will be the most disposed to feel for this poor creature, who was literally half famished before her good resolutions were conquered. At last she yielded to necessity. At the appointed hour she was in Mrs. Carver’s house. This woman received her with triumph—she supplied Anne immediately with food, and then hastened to deck out her victim in the most attractive manner. The girl was quite passive in her hand. She promised, though scarcely knowing that she uttered the words, to obey the instructions that were given to her, and she suffered herself without struggle, or apparent emotion, to be led to destruction. She appeared quite insensible—but at last she was roused from this state of stupefaction, by the voice of a person with whom she found herself alone. The stranger, who was a young and gay gentleman, pleasing both in his person and manners, attempted by every possible means to render himself agreeable to her, to raise her spirits, and calm her apprehensions. By degrees his manner changed from levity to tenderness. He represented to her, that he was not a brutal wretch, who could be gratified by any triumph in which the affections of the heart have no share; and he assured her, that in any connexion which she might be prevailed upon to form with him, she should be treated with honour and delicacy.

Touched by his manner of speaking, and overpowered by the sense of her own situation, Anne could not reply one single word to all he said—but burst into an agony of tears, and sinking on her knees before him, exclaimed, “Save me! save me from myself!—Restore me to my parents, before they have reason to hate me.”

The gentleman seemed to be somewhat in doubt whether this was acting or nature: but he raised Anne from the ground, and placed her upon a seat beside him. “Am I to understand, then, that I have been deceived, and that our present meeting is against your own consent?”

“No, I cannot say that—oh, how I wish that I could!—I did wrong, very wrong, to come here—but I repent—I was half-starved—I have a father in jail—I thought I could set him free with the money——but I will not pretend to be better than I am—I believe I thought that, beside relieving my father, I should live all my days without ever more knowing what distress is—and I thought I should be happy—but now I have changed my mind—I never could be happy with a bad conscience—I know—by what I have felt this last hour.”

Her voice failed; and she sobbed for some moments without being able to speak. The gentleman, who now was convinced that she was quite artless and thoroughly in earnest, was struck with compassion; but his compassion was not unmixed with other feelings, and he had hopes that, by treating her with tenderness, he should in time make it her wish to live with him as his mistress. He was anxious to hear what her former way of life had been; and she related, at his request, the circumstances by which she and her parents had been reduced to such distress. His countenance presently showed how much he was interested in her story—he grew red and pale—he started from his seat, and walked up and down the room in great agitation, till at last, when she mentioned the name of Colonel Pembroke, he stopped short, and exclaimed, “I am the man—I am Colonel Pembroke—I am that unjust, unfeeling wretch! How often, in the bitterness of your hearts, you must have cursed me!”

“Oh, no—my father, when he was at the worst, never cursed you; and I am sure he will have reason to bless you now, if you send his daughter back again to him, such as she was when she left him.”

“That shall be done,” said Colonel Pembroke; “and in doing so, I make some sacrifice, and have some merit. It is time I should make some reparation for the evils I have occasioned,” continued he, taking a handful of guineas from his pocket: “but first let me pay my just debts.”

“My poor father!” exclaimed Anne; “to-morrow he will be out of prison.”

“I will go with you to the prison, where your father is confined—I will force myself to behold all the evils I have occasioned.”

Colonel Pembroke went to the prison; and he was so much struck by the scene, that he not only relieved the misery of this family, but in two months afterwards his debts were paid, his race-horses sold, and all his expenses regulated, so as to render him ever afterwards truly independent. He no longer spent his days, like many young men of fashion, either in DREADING or in DAMNING DUNS.

Edgeworthstown, 1802.

FOOTNOTES:

1 (return)
[ “The cloak, or mantle, as described by Thady, is of high antiquity. Spenser, in his ‘View of the State of Ireland,’ proves that it is not, as some have imagined, peculiarly derived from the Scythians, but that most nations of the world anciently used the mantle; for the Jews used it, as you may read of Elias’s mantle, &c.; the Chaldees also used it, as you may read in Diodorus; the Egyptians likewise used it, as you may read in Herodotus, and may be gathered by the description of Berenice in the Greek Commentary upon Callimachus; the Greeks also used it anciently, as appeared by Venus’s mantle lined with stars, though afterward they changed the form thereof into their cloaks, called Pallai, as some of the Irish also use: and the ancient Latins and Romans used it, as you may read in Virgil, who was a great antiquary, that Evander when Aeneas came to him at his feast, did entertain and feast him sitting on the ground, and lying on mantles: insomuch that he useth the very word mantile for a mantle,

so that it seemeth that the mantle was a general habit to most nations, and not proper to the Scythians only.”

Spenser knew the convenience of the said mantle, as housing, bedding, and clothing.

“Iren. Because the commodity doth not countervail the discommodity; for the inconveniences which thereby do arise are much more many; for it is a fit house for an outlaw, a meet bed for a rebel, and an apt cloak for a thief. First, the outlaw being, for his many crimes and villanies, banished from the towns and houses of honest men, and wandering in waste places, far from danger of law, maketh his mantle his house, and under it covereth himself from the wrath of Heaven, from the offence of the earth, and from the sight of men. When it raineth, it is his penthouse; when it bloweth, it is his tent; when it freezeth, it is his tabernacle. In summer he can wear it loose; in winter he can wrap it close; at all times he can use it; never heavy, never cumbersome. Likewise for a rebel it is as serviceable; for in this war that he maketh (if at least it deserves the name of war), when he still flieth from his foe, and lurketh in the thick woods (this should be black bogs) and straight passages, waiting for advantages, it is his bed, yea, and almost his household stuff.”]

2 (return)
[ These fairy-mounts are called ant-hills in England. They are held in high reverence by the common people in Ireland. A gentleman, who in laying out his lawn had occasion to level one of these hillocks, could not prevail upon any of his labourers to begin the ominous work. He was obliged to take a loy from one of their reluctant hands, and began the attack himself. The labourers agreed, that the vengeance of the fairies would fall upon the head of the presumptuous mortal, who first disturbed them in their retreat. See Glossary [K].]

3 (return)
[ The Banshee is a species of aristocratic fairy, who, in the shape of a little hideous old woman, has been known to appear, and heard to sing in a mournful supernatural voice under the windows of great houses, to warn the family that some of them are soon to die. In the last century every great family in Ireland had a Banshee, who attended regularly; but latterly their visits and songs have been discontinued.]

4 (return)
[ Childer: this is the manner in which many of Thady’s rank, and others in Ireland, formerly pronounced the word children.]

5 (return)
[ Middle men.—There was a class of men termed middle men in Ireland, who took large farms on long leases from gentlemen of landed property, and let the land again in small portions to the poor, as under-tenants, at exorbitant rents. The head landlord, as he was called, seldom saw his under-tenants; but if he could not get the middle man to pay him his rent punctually, he went to his land, and drove the land for his rent, that is to say, he sent his steward or bailiff, or driver, to the land to seize the cattle, hay, corn, flax, oats, or potatoes, belonging to the under-tenants, and proceeded to sell these for his rents: it sometimes happened that these unfortunate tenants paid their rent twice over, once to the middle man, and once to the head landlord.

The characteristics of a middle man were, servility to his superiors, and tyranny towards his inferiors: the poor detested this race of beings. In speaking to them, however, they always used the most abject language, and the most humble tone and posture—“Please your honour; and please your honour’s honour” they knew must be repeated as a charm at the beginning and end of every equivocating, exculpatory, or supplicatory sentence; and they were much more alert in doffing their caps to these new men, than to those of what they call good old families. A witty carpenter once termed these middle men journeymen gentlemen.]

6 (return)
[ This part of the history of the Rackrent family can scarcely be thought credible; but in justice to honest Thady, it is hoped the reader will recollect the history of the celebrated Lady Cathcart’s conjugal imprisonment.—The editor was acquainted with Colonel M’Guire, Lady Cathcart’s husband; he has lately seen and questioned the maid-servant who lived with Colonel M’Guire during the time of Lady Cathcart’s imprisonment. Her ladyship was locked up in her own house for many years; during which period her husband was visited by the neighbouring gentry, and it was his regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to Lady Cathcart, informing her that the company had the honour to drink her ladyship’s health, and begging to know whether there was any thing at table that she would like to eat? the answer was always, “Lady Cathcart’s compliments, and she has every thing she wants.” An instance of honesty in a poor Irish woman deserves to be recorded:—Lady Cathcart had some remarkably fine diamonds, which she had concealed from her husband, and which she was anxious to get out of the house, lest he should discover them. She had neither servant nor friend to whom she could entrust them; but she had observed a poor beggar woman, who used to come to the house; she spoke to her from the window of the room in which she was confined; the woman promised to do what she desired, and Lady Cathcart threw a parcel, containing the jewels, to her. The poor woman carried them to the person to whom they were directed; and several years afterwards, when Lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, she received her diamonds safely.

At Colonel M’Guire’s death her ladyship was released. The editor, within this year, saw the gentleman who accompanied her to England after her husband’s death. When she first was told of his death, she imagined that the news was not true, and that it was told only with an intention of deceiving her. At his death she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover her; she wore a red wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed stupified; she said that she scarcely knew one human creature from another: her imprisonment lasted above twenty years. These circumstances may appear strange to an English reader; but there is no danger in the present times, that any individual should exercise such tyranny as Colonel M’Guire’s with impunity, the power being now all in the hands of government, and there being no possibility of obtaining from parliament an act of indemnity for any cruelties.]

7 (return)
[ Boo! boo! an exclamation equivalent to pshaw or nonsense.]

8 (return)
[ Pin, read pen. It formerly was vulgarly pronounced pin in Ireland.]

9 (return)
[ Her mark. It was the custom in Ireland for those who could not write to make a cross to stand for their signature, as was formerly the practice of our English monarchs. The Editor inserts the fac-simile of an Irish mark, which may hereafter be valuable to a judicious antiquary—

In bonds or notes, signed in this manner, a witness is requisite, as the name is frequently written by him or her.]

10 (return)
[ Vows.—It has been maliciously and unjustly hinted, that the lower classes of the people in Ireland pay but little regard to oaths; yet it is certain that some oaths or vows have great power over their minds. Sometimes they swear they will be revenged on some of their neighbours; this is an oath that they are never known to break. But, what is infinitely more extraordinary and unaccountable, they sometimes make and keep a vow against whiskey; these vows are usually limited to a short time. A woman who has a drunken husband is most fortunate if she can prevail upon him to go to the priest, and make a vow against whiskey for a year, or a month, or a week, or a day.]

11 (return)
[ Gossoon, a little boy—from the French word garçon. In most Irish families there used to be a barefooted gossoon, who was slave to the cook and butler, and who in fact, without wages, did all the hard work of the house. Gossoons were always employed as messengers. The Editor has known a gossoon to go on foot, without shoes or stockings, fifty-one English miles between sunrise and sunset.]

12 (return)
[ At St. Patrick´s meeting, London, March, 1806, the Duke of Sussex said he had the honour of bearing an Irish title, and, with the permission of the company, he should tell them an anecdote of what he had experienced on his travels. When he was at Rome, he went to visit an Irish seminary, and when they heard who he was, and that he had an Irish title, some of them asked him, “Please you Royal Highness, since you are an Irish peer, will you tell us if you ever trod upon Irish ground?” When he told them he had not, “Oh, then,” said one of the order, “you shall soon do so”. They then spread some earth, which had been brought from Ireland, on a marble slab, and made him stand upon it.]

13 (return)
[ This was actually done at an election in Ireland.]

14 (return)
[ To put him up—to put him in gaol.]

15 (return)
[ My little potatoes—Thady does not mean, by this expression, that his potatoes were less than other people’s, or less than the usual size—little is here used only as an Italian diminutive, expressive of fondness.]

16 (return)
[ Kith and kin—family or relations. Kin from kind; kith from we know not what.]

17 (return)
[ Wigs were formerly used instead of brooms in Ireland, for sweeping or dusting tables, stairs, &c. The Editor doubted the fact, till he saw a labourer of the old school sweep down a flight of stairs with his wig; he afterwards put it on his head again with the utmost composure, and said, “Oh, please your honour, it’s never a bit the worse.”

It must be acknowledged, that these men are not in any danger of catching cold by taking off their wigs occasionally, because they usually have fine crops of hair growing under their wigs. The wigs are often yellow, and the hair which appears from beneath them black; the wigs are usually too small, and are raised up by the hair beneath, or by the ears of the wearers.]

18 (return)
[ A wake in England is a meeting avowedly for merriment; in Ireland it is a nocturnal meeting avowedly for the purpose of watching and bewailing the dead; but, in reality, for gossiping and debauchery. See Glossary [C2].]

19 (return)
[ Shebean-house, a hedge alehouse. Shebcan properly means weak small-beer, taplash.]

20 (return)
[ At the coronation of one of our monarchs, the king complained of the confusion which happened in the procession. The great officer who presided told his majesty, “That it should not be so next time.”]

21 (return)
[ Kilt and smashed.—Our author is not here guilty of an anti-climax. The mere English reader, from a similarity of sound between the words kilt and killed, might be induced to suppose that their meanings are similar, yet they are not by any means in Ireland synonymous terms. Thus you may hear a man exclaim, “I’m kilt and murdered!” but he frequently means only that he has received a black eye, or a slight contusion.—I’m kilt all over means that he is in a worse state than being simply kilt. Thus, I’m kilt with the cold, is nothing to I’m kilt all over with the rheumatism.]

22 (return)
[ The room—the principal room in the house.]

23 (return)
[ Tester—sixpence; from the French word, tête, a head: a piece of silver stamped with a head, which in old French was called “un testion,” and which was about the value of an old English sixpence. Tester is used in Shakspeare.]

24 (return)
[ Natural History, century iii. p. 191.—Bacon produces it to show that echoes will not readily return the letter S..]

25 (return)
[ “Un savant écrivoit à un ami, et un importun étoit à côté de lui, qui regardoit par dessus l’épaule ce qu’il écrivoit. Le savant, qui s’en apperçut, écrivit ceci à la place: ‘Si un impertinent qui est à mon côté ne regardoit pas ce que j’écris, je vous écrirois encore plusieurs choses qui ne doivent être sues que de vous et de moi.’ L’importun, qui lisoit toujours, prit la parole et dit: ‘Je vous jure que je n’ai regardé ni lû ce que vous écriviez.’ Le savant repartit, ‘Ignorant, que vous êtes, pourquoi me dites-vous done ce que vous dites?’” Les Paroles Remarquables des Orientaux; traduction de leurs ouvrages en Arabe, en Persan, et en Turc (suivant la copie imprimée à Paris), à la Haye, chez Louis et Henry Vandole, marchands libraires, dans le Pooten, à l’enseigne du Port Royal, M.DC.XCIV.]

26 (return)
[ “Le bailli nous donne an diable, et nous nous recommandons à vous, monseigneur.”]

27 (return)
[ On faisoit compliment à madame Denis de la façon dont elle venoit de jouer Zaïre. “Il faudroit,” dit elle, “être belle et jeune.” “Ah, madame!” reprit le complimenteur naïvement, “vous êtes bien la preuve du contraire.”]

28 (return)
[ Locke’s Essay concerning the Human Understanding, fifteenth edit. vol. i. p. 292.]

29 (return)
[

30 (return)
[

31 (return)
[ Vide Mémoires du Cardinal de Retz.]

32 (return)
[ Vide Sir W. Hamilton’s account of an eruption of Mount Vesuvius.]

33 (return)
[ This fact, we believe, is mentioned in a letter of Mrs. Cappe’s on parish schools.]

34 (return)
[ Vide Mrs. Piozzi’s English Synonymy.]

35 (return)
[ John Lydgate.]

36 (return)
[ Iliad, 6th book, l. 432, Andromache says to Hector, “You will make your son an orphan, and your wife a widow.”]

37 (return)
[ Lord Chesterfield.]

38 (return)
[ Essay on Chemical Nomenclature, by S. Dickson, M.D.; in which are comprised observations on the same subject, by R. Kirwan, Pres. R.I.A,—Vide pages 21, 22, 23, &c.]

39 (return)
[ This conjuror, whose name was Broadstreet, was a native of the county of Longford, in Ireland: he by this hit pocketed 200l., and proved himself to be more knave than fool.]

40 (return)
[ A gripe or fast hold.]

41 (return)
[ An oak stick, supposed to be cut from the famous wood of Shilala.]

42 (return)
[ This is nearly verbatim from a late Irish complainant.]

43 (return)
[ “Pleurez, pleurez, mes yeux, et fondez vous en eau, La moitié de ma vie a mis l’autre au tombeau.”]

44 (return)
[ “Il pover uomo che non sen’ era accorto, Andava combattendo, ed erà morto.”]

45 (return)
[ See his account of the siege of Gibraltar.]

46 (return)
[ Life of Hyder Ali Khan, vol. ii. p. 231.]

47 (return)
[ See the advice of Cleomenes to Crius. HERODOTUS EBATO.]

48 (return)
[ It is said that the waters of the Garonne are famed for a similar virtue.]

49 (return)
[ The stomach.]

50 (return)
[ This ancient old man, we fear, was more knave than fool. History informs us, that the Bishop of Rochester had diverted the revenue, appropriated for keeping Sandwich harbour in repair, to the purpose of building a steeple.—Vide Fuller’s Worthies of England, page 65.]

51 (return)
[ Baskets.]

52 (return)
[ Vide Robertson’s History of Scotland.]

53 (return)
[ Slink calf.]

54 (return)
[ This was written down a few minutes after it had been spoken.]

55 (return)
[ James Adams, S.R.E.S., author of a book entitled, “The Pronunciation of the English Language vindicated from imputed Anomaly and Caprice; with an Appendix on the Dialects of Human Speech in all Countries, and an analytical Discussion and Vindication of the Dialect of Scotland.”]

56 (return)
[ Vide Illustrations on Sublimity, in his Essays.]

57 (return)
[ The glossary to the Lancashire dialect informs us, that ‘lieve me comes from beleemy, believe me; from belamy, my good friend, old French.]

58 (return)
[ Gawmbling (Anglo-Saxon, gawmless), stupid.]

59 (return)
[ “Every thing speaks against us, even our silence.”]

60 (return)
[ Lord Chatham.]

61 (return)
[ Your hands alone have a right to conquer the unconquerable.]

62 (return)
[ And when Caesar was the only emperor within the dominion of Rome, he suffered me to be another.]

63 (return)
[ This bull was really made.]

64 (return)
[ Castle Rackrent.]

65 (return)
[ Il y a des nations dont l’une semble faite pour être soumise à l’autre. Les Anglois ont toujours eu sur les Irlandois la superiorite du génie, des richesses, et des armes. La supériorite que les blancs ont sur les noirs.]

66 (return)
[ “On lisait dans les premières éditions, la supèrioritè que les blancs ont sur les négres. M. de Voltaire effaça cette expression injurieuse. L’état presque sauvage ou étoit l’Irlande lorsqu’elle fut conquise, la superstition, l’oppression exercée par les Anglois, le fanatisme religieux qui divise les Irlandois en deux nations ennemies, telles sont les causes qui ont retenues ce peuple dans l’abaissement et dans la foiblesse. Les haines religieuses se sont assoupies, et elle a repris sa liberté. Les Irlandois ne le cédent plus aux Anglois, ni en industrie ni en lumières.”]

67 (return)
[ See O’Halloran’s History of Ireland.]

68 (return)
[ Author of Chiysal, or Adventures of a Guinea.]

69 (return)
[ Author of the beautiful moral tale Nourjahad.]

70 (return)
[ Marmontel.]

71 (return)
[ Emilius and Sophia.]

72 (return)
[ Vide Duchess of Marlborough’s Apology.]

73 (return)
[ Clodius Albinus.]

74 (return)
[ I was not the nobleman who laid a wager, that he could ride a fine horse to death in fifteen minutes. Indeed, I must do myself the justice to say, that I rejoiced at this man’s losing his bet. He blew the horse in four minutes, and killed it; but it did not die within the time prescribed by the bet.]

75 (return)
[ If any one should think it impossible that a man of Lord Glenthorn’s consequence should, at the supposed moment of his death, thus be neglected, let them recollect the scenes that followed the death of Tiberius—of Henry the Fourth of France—of William Rufus, and of George the Second.]

76 (return)
[ “For fostering, I did never hear or read, that it was in use or reputation in any country, barbarous or civil, as it hath been, and yet is, in Ireland.... In the opinion of this people, fostering hath always been a stronger alliance than blood; and the foster-children do love and are beloved of their foster-fathers and their sept (or clan) more than of their natural parents and kindred; and do participate of their means more frankly, and do adhere unto them, in all fortunes, with more affection and constancy.... Such a general custom in a kingdom, in giving and taking children to foster, making such a firm alliance as it doth in Ireland, was never seen or heard of in any other country of the world beside.”—DAVIES.

See in Lodge’s Peerage of Ireland an account of an Irish nurse, who went from Kerry to France, and from France to Milan, to see her foster-son, the Lord Thomas Fitzmaurice; and to warn him that his estate was in danger from an heir-at-law, who had taken possession of it in his absence. The nurse, being very old, died on her return home.]

77 (return)
[ Verbatim.]

78 (return)
[ Since Lord Glenthorn’s Memoirs were published, the editor has received letters and information from the east, west, north, and south of Ireland, on the present state of posting in that country. The following is one of the many, which is vouched by indisputable authority as a true and recent anecdote, given in the very words in which it was related to the editor ... Mr. ———, travelling in Ireland, having got into a hackney chaise, was surprised to hear the driver knocking at each side of the carriage. “What are you doing?”—“A’n’t I nailing your honour up?”—“Why do you nail me up? I don’t wish to be nailed up.”—“Augh! would your honour have the doors fly off the hinges?” When they came to the end of the stage, Mr. ——— begged the man to unfasten the doors. “Ogh! what would I he taking out the nails for, to be racking the doors?”—“How shall I get out then?”—“Can’t your honour get out of the window like any other jantleman?” Mr. ——— began the operation; but, having forced his head and shoulder out, could get no farther, and called again to the postilion. “Augh! did any one ever see any one get out of a chay head foremost? Can’t your honour put out your feet first, like a Christian?”

Another correspondent from the south relates, that when he refused to go on till one of the four horses, who wanted a shoe, was shod, his two postilions in his hearing commenced thus: “Paddy, where will I get a shoe, and no smith nigh hand?”—“Why don’t you see yon jantleman’s horse in the field? can’t you go and unshoe him?”—“True for ye,” said Jem; “but that horse’s shoe will never fit him.”—“Augh! you can but try it,” said Paddy.—So the gentleman’s horse was actually unshod, and his shoe put upon the hackney horse; and, fit or not fit, Paddy went off with it.

Another gentleman, travelling in the north of Ireland in a hackney chaise during a storm of wind and rain, found that two of the windows were broken, and two could not by force or art of man be pulled up: he ventured to complain to his Paddy of the inconvenience he suffered from the storm pelting in his face. His consolation was, “Augh! God bless your honour, and can’t you get out and set behind the carriage, and you’ll not get a drop at all, I’ll engage.”]

79 (return)
[ Mirabeau—Secret Memoirs.]

80 (return)
[ See Philosophical Transactions, vol. lxvii. part ii., Sir George Shuckburgh’s observations to ascertain the height of mountains—for a full account of the cabin of a couple of Alpine shepherdesses.]

81 (return)
[ See Harrison.]

82 (return)
[