i hasten to the conclusion of my melancholy story. i began to write soon after the period to which i have now conducted it. this was another resource that my mind, ever eager in inventing means to escape from my misery, suggested. in my haste to withdraw myself from the retreat in wales, where first the certainty of mr. falkland’s menaces was confirmed to me, i left behind me the apparatus of my etymological enquiries, and the papers i had written upon the subject. i have never been able to persuade myself to resume this pursuit. it is always discouraging, to begin over again a laborious task, and exert one’s self to recover a position we had already occupied. i knew not how soon or how abruptly i might be driven from any new situation; the appendages of the study in which i had engaged were too cumbrous for this state of dependence and uncertainty; they only served to give new sharpness to the enmity of my foe, and new poignancy to my hourly-renewing distress.

but what was of greatest importance, and made the deepest impression upon my mind, was my separation from the family of laura. fool that i was, to imagine that there was any room for me in the abodes of friendship and tranquillity! it was now first, that i felt, with the most intolerable acuteness, how completely i was cut off from the whole human species. other connections i had gained, comparatively without interest; and i saw them dissolved without the consummation of agony. i had never experienced the purest refinements of friendship, but in two instances, that of collins, and this of the family of laura. solitude, separation, banishment! these are words often in the mouths of human beings; but few men except myself have felt the full latitude of their meaning. the pride of philosophy has taught us to treat man as an individual. he is no such thing. he holds necessarily, indispensably, to his species. he is like those twin-births, that have two heads indeed, and four hands; but, if you attempt to detach them from each other, they are inevitably subjected to miserable and lingering destruction.

it was this circumstance, more than all the rest, that gradually gorged my heart with abhorrence of mr. falkland. i could not think of his name but with a sickness and a loathing that seemed more than human. it was by his means that i suffered the loss of one consolation after another, of every thing that was happiness, or that had the resemblance of happiness.

the writing of these memoirs served me as a source of avocation for several years. for some time i had a melancholy satisfaction in it. i was better pleased to retrace the particulars of calamities that had formerly afflicted me, than to look forward, as at other times i was too apt to do, to those by which i might hereafter be overtaken. i conceived that my story, faithfully digested, would carry in it an impression of truth that few men would be able to resist; or, at worst, that, by leaving it behind me when i should no longer continue to exist, posterity might be induced to do me justice; and, seeing in my example what sort of evils are entailed upon mankind by society as it is at present constituted, might be inclined to turn their attention upon the fountain from which such bitter waters have been accustomed to flow. but these motives have diminished in their influence. i have contracted a disgust for life and all its appendages. writing, which was at first a pleasure, is changed into a burthen. i shall compress into a small compass what remains to be told.

i discovered, not long after the period of which i am speaking, the precise cause of the reverse i had experienced in my residence in wales, and, included in that cause, what it was i had to look for in my future adventures. mr. falkland had taken the infernal gines into his pay, a man critically qualified for the service in which he was now engaged, by the unfeeling brutality of his temper, by his habits of mind at once audacious and artful, and by the peculiar animosity and vengeance he had conceived against me. the employment to which this man was hired, was that of following me from place to place, blasting my reputation, and preventing me from the chance, by continuing long in one residence, of acquiring a character for integrity, that should give new weight to any accusation i might at a future time be induced to prefer. ho had come to the seat of my residence with the bricklayers and labourers i have mentioned; and, while he took care to keep out of sight so far as related to me, was industrious in disseminating that which, in the eye of the world, seemed to amount to a demonstration of the profligacy and detestableness of my character. it was no doubt from him that the detested scroll had been procured, which i had found in my habitation immediately prior to my quitting it. in all this mr. falkland, reasoning upon his principles, was only employing a necessary precaution. there was something in the temper of his mind, that impressed him with aversion to the idea of violently putting an end to my existence; at the same time that unfortunately he could never deem himself sufficiently secured against my recrimination, so long as i remained alive. as to the fact of gines being retained by him for this tremendous purpose, he by no means desired that it should become generally known; but neither did he look upon the possibility of its being known with terror. it was already too notorious for his wishes, that i had advanced the most odious charges against him. if he regarded me with abhorrence as the adversary of his fame, those persons who had had occasion to be in any degree acquainted with our history, did not entertain less abhorrence against me for my own sake. if they should at any time know the pains he exerted in causing my evil reputation to follow me, they would consider it as an act of impartial justice, perhaps as a generous anxiety to prevent other men from being imposed upon and injured, as he had been.

what expedient was i to employ for the purpose of counteracting the meditated and barbarous prudence, which was thus destined, in all changes of scene, to deprive me of the benefits and consolations of human society? there was one expedient against which i was absolutely determined — disguise. i had experienced so many mortifications, and such intolerable restraint, when i formerly had recourse to it; it was associated in my memory with sensations of such acute anguish, that my mind was thus far entirely convinced: life was not worth purchasing at so high a price! but, though in this respect i was wholly resolved, there was another point that did not appear so material, and in which therefore i was willing to accommodate myself to circumstances. i was contented, if that would insure my peace, to submit to the otherwise unmanly expedient of passing by a different name.

but the change of my name, the abruptness with which i removed from place to place, the remoteness and the obscurity which i proposed to myself in the choice of my abode, were all insufficient to elude the sagacity of gines, or the unrelenting constancy with which mr. falkland incited my tormentor to pursue me. whithersoever i removed myself it was not long before i had occasion to perceive this detested adversary in my rear. no words can enable me to do justice to the sensations which this circumstance produced in me. it was like what has been described of the eye of omniscience, pursuing the guilty sinner, and darting a ray that awakens him to new sensibility, at the very moment that, otherwise, exhausted nature would lull him into a temporary oblivion of the reproaches of his conscience. sleep fled from my eyes. no walls could hide me from the discernment of this hated foe. every where his industry was unwearied to create for me new distress. rest i had none; relief i had none: never could i count upon an instant’s security; never could i wrap myself in the shroud of oblivion. the minutes in which i did not actually perceive him, were contaminated and blasted with the certain expectation of his speedy interference. in my first retreat i had passed a few weeks of delusive tranquillity, but never after was i happy enough to attain to so much as that shadowy gratification. i spent some years in this dreadful vicissitude of pain. my sensations at certain periods amounted to insanity.

i pursued in every succeeding instance the conduct i had adopted at first. i determined never to enter into a contest of accusation and defence with the execrable gines. if i could have submitted to it in other respects, what purpose would it answer? i should have but an imperfect and mutilated story to tell. this story had succeeded with persons already prepossessed in my favour by personal intercourse; but could it succeed with strangers? it had succeeded so long as i was able to hide myself from my pursuers; but could it succeed now, that this appeared impracticable, and that they proceeded by arming against me a whole vicinity at once?

it is inconceivable the mischiefs that this kind of existence included. why should i insist upon such aggravations as hunger, beggary, and external wretchedness? these were an inevitable consequence. it was by the desertion of mankind that, in each successive instance, i was made acquainted with my fate. delay in such a moment served but to increase the evil; and when i fled, meagreness and penury were the ordinary attendants of my course. but this was a small consideration. indignation at one time, and unconquerable perseverance at another, sustained me, where humanity, left to itself, would probably have sunk.

it has already appeared that i was not of a temper to endure calamity, without endeavouring, by every means i could devise, to elude and disarm it. recollecting, as i was habituated to do, the various projects by which my situation could be meliorated, the question occurred to me, “why should i be harassed by the pursuits of this gines? why, man to man, may i not, by the powers of my mind, attain the ascendancy over him? at present he appears to be the persecutor, and i the persecuted: is not this difference the mere creature of the imagination? may i not employ my ingenuity to vex him with difficulties, and laugh at the endless labour to which he will be condemned?”

alas, this is a speculation for a mind at ease! it is not the persecution, but the catastrophe which is annexed to it, that makes the difference between the tyrant and the sufferer! in mere corporal exertion the hunter perhaps is upon a level with the miserable animal he pursues! but could it be forgotten by either of us, that at every stage gines was to gratify his malignant passions, by disseminating charges of the most infamous nature, and exciting against me the abhorrence of every honest bosom, while i was to sustain the still-repeated annihilation of my peace, my character, and my bread? could i, by any refinement of reason, convert this dreadful series into sport? i had no philosophy that qualified me for so extraordinary an effort. if, under other circumstances, i could even have entertained so strange an imagination, i was restrained in the present instance by the necessity of providing for myself the means of subsistence, and the fetters which, through that necessity, the forms of human society imposed upon my exertions.

in one of those changes of residence, to which my miserable fate repeatedly compelled me, i met, upon a road which i was obliged to traverse, the friend of my youth, my earliest and best beloved friend, the venerable collins. it was one of those misfortunes which served to accumulate my distress, that this man had quitted the island of great britain only a very few weeks before that fatal reverse of fortune which had ever since pursued me with unrelenting eagerness. mr. falkland, in addition to the large estate he possessed in england, had a very valuable plantation in the west indies. this property had been greatly mismanaged by the person who had the direction of it on the spot; and, after various promises and evasions on his part, which, however they might serve to beguile the patience of mr. falkland, had been attended with no salutary fruits, it was resolved that mr. collins should go over in person, to rectify the abuses which had so long prevailed. there had even been some idea of his residing several years, if not settling finally, upon the plantation. from that hour to the present i had never received the smallest intelligence respecting him.

i had always considered the circumstance of his critical absence as one of my severest misfortunes. mr. collins had been one of the first persons, even in the period of my infancy, to conceive hopes of me, as of something above the common standard; and had contributed more than any other to encourage and assist my juvenile studies. he had been the executor of the little property of my father, who had fixed upon him for that purpose in consideration of the mutual affection that existed between us; and i seemed, on every account, to have more claim upon his protection than upon that of any other human being. i had always believed that, had he been present in the crisis of my fortune, he would have felt a conviction of my innocence; and, convinced himself, would, by means of the venerableness and energy of his character, have interposed so effectually, as to have saved me the greater part of my subsequent misfortunes.

there was yet another idea in my mind relative to this subject, which had more weight with me, than even the substantial exertions of friendship i should have expected from him. the greatest aggravation of my present lot was, that i was cut off from the friendship of mankind. i can safely affirm, that poverty and hunger, that endless wanderings, that a blasted character and the curses that clung to my name, were all of them slight misfortunes compared to this. i endeavoured to sustain myself by the sense of my integrity, but the voice of no man upon earth echoed to the voice of my conscience. “i called aloud; but there was none to answer; there was none that regarded.” to me the whole world was unhearing as the tempest, and as cold as the torpedo. sympathy, the magnetic virtue, the hidden essence of our life, was extinct. nor was this the sum of my misery. this food, so essential to an intelligent existence, seemed perpetually renewing before me in its fairest colours, only the more effectually to elude my grasp, and to mock my hunger. from time to time i was prompted to unfold the affections of my soul, only to be repelled with the greater anguish, and to be baffled in a way the most intolerably mortifying.

no sight therefore could give me a purer delight than that which now presented itself to my eyes. it was some time however, before either of us recognised the person of the other. ten years had elapsed since our last interview. mr. collins looked much older than he had done at that period; in addition to which, he was, in his present appearance, pale, sickly, and thin. these unfavourable effects had been produced by the change of climate, particularly trying to persons in an advanced period of life. add to which, i supposed him to be at that moment in the west indies. i was probably as much altered in the period that had elapsed as he had been. i was the first to recollect him. he was on horseback; i on foot. i had suffered him to pass me. in a moment the full idea of who he was rushed upon my mind; i ran; i called with an impetuous voice; i was unable to restrain the vehemence of my emotions.

the ardour of my feelings disguised my usual tone of speaking, which otherwise mr. collins would infallibly have recognised. his sight was already dim; he pulled up his horse till i should overtake him; and then said, “who are you? i do not know you.”

“my father!” exclaimed i, embracing one of his knees with fervour and delight, “i am your son; once your little caleb, whom you a thousand times loaded with your kindness!”

the unexpected repetition of my name gave a kind of shuddering emotion to my friend, which was however checked by his age, and the calm and benevolent philosophy that formed one of his most conspicuous habits.

“i did not expect to see you!” replied he: “i did not wish it!”

“my best, my oldest friend!” answered i, respect blending itself with my impatience, “do not say so! i have not a friend any where in the whole world but you! in you at least let me find sympathy and reciprocal affection! if you knew how anxiously i have thought of you during the whole period of your absence, you would not thus grievously disappoint me in your return!”

“how is it,” said mr. collins, gravely, “that you have been reduced to this forlorn condition? was it not the inevitable consequence of your own actions?”

“the actions of others, not mine! does not your heart tell you that i am innocent?”

“no. my observation of your early character taught me that you would be extraordinary; but, unhappily, all extraordinary men are not good men: that seems to be a lottery, dependent on circumstances apparently the most trivial.”

“will you hear my justification? i am as sure as i am of my existence, that i can convince you of my purity.”

“certainly, if you require it, i will hear you. but that must not be just now. i could have been glad to decline it wholly. at my age i am not fit for the storm; and i am not so sanguine as you in my expectation of the result. of what would you convince me? that mr. falkland is a suborner and murderer?”

i made no answer. my silence was an affirmative to the question.

“and what benefit will result from this conviction? i have known you a promising boy, whose character might turn to one side or the other as events should decide. i have known mr. falkland in his maturer years, and have always admired him, as the living model of liberality and goodness. if you could change all my ideas, and show me that there was no criterion by which vice might be prevented from being mistaken for virtue, what benefit would arise from that? i must part with all my interior consolation, and all my external connections. and for what? what is it you propose? the death of mr. falkland by the hands of the hangman.”

“no; i will not hurt a hair of his head, unless compelled to it by a principle of defence. but surely you owe me justice?”

“what justice? the justice of proclaiming your innocence? you know what consequences are annexed to that. but i do not believe i shall find you innocent. if you even succeed in perplexing my understanding, you will not succeed in enlightening it. such is the state of mankind, that innocence, when involved in circumstances of suspicion, can scarcely ever make out a demonstration of its purity; and guilt can often make us feel an insurmountable reluctance to the pronouncing it guilt. meanwhile, for the purchase of this uncertainty, i must sacrifice all the remaining comforts of my life. i believe mr. falkland to be virtuous; but i know him to be prejudiced. he would never forgive me even this accidental parley, if by any means he should come to be acquainted with it.”

“oh, argue not the consequences that are possible to result!” answered i, impatiently, “i have a right to your kindness; i have a right to your assistance!”

“you have them. you have them to a certain degree; and it is not likely that, by any process of examination, you can have them entire. you know my habits of thinking. i regard you as vicious; but i do not consider the vicious as proper objects of indignation and scorn. i consider you as a machine; you are not constituted, i am afraid, to be greatly useful to your fellow men: but you did not make yourself; you are just what circumstances irresistibly compelled you to be. i am sorry for your ill properties; but i entertain no enmity against you, nothing but benevolence. considering you in the light in which i at present consider you, i am ready to contribute every thing in my power to your real advantage, and would gladly assist you, if i knew how, in detecting and extirpating the errors that have misled you. you have disappointed me, but i have no reproaches to utter: it is more necessary for me to feel compassion for you, than that i should accumulate your misfortune by my censures.”

what could i say to such a man as this? amiable, incomparable man! never was my mind more painfully divided than at that moment. the more he excited my admiration, the more imperiously did my heart command me, whatever were the price it should cost, to extort his friendship. i was persuaded that severe duty required of him, that he should reject all personal considerations, that he should proceed resolutely to the investigation of the truth, and that, if he found the result terminating in my favour, he should resign all his advantages, and, deserted as i was by the world, make a common cause, and endeavour to compensate the general injustice. but was it for me to force this conduct upon him, if, now in his declining years, his own fortitude shrank from it? alas, neither he nor i foresaw the dreadful catastrophe that was so closely impending! otherwise, i am well assured that no tenderness for his remaining tranquillity would have withheld him from a compliance with my wishes! on the other hand, could i pretend to know what evils might result to him from his declaring himself my advocate? might not his integrity be browbeaten and defeated, as mine had been? did the imbecility of his grey hairs afford no advantage to my terrible adversary in the contest? might not mr. falkland reduce him to a condition as wretched and low as mine? after all, was it not vice in me to desire to involve another man in my sufferings? if i regarded them as intolerable, this was still an additional reason why i should bear them alone.

influenced by these considerations, i assented to his views. i assented to be thought hardly of by the man in the world whose esteem i most ardently desired, rather than involve him in possible calamity. i assented to the resigning what appeared to me at that moment as the last practicable comfort of my life; a comfort, upon the thought of which, while i surrendered it, my mind dwelt with undescribable longings. mr. collins was deeply affected with the apparent ingenuousness with which i expressed my feelings. the secret struggle of his mind was, “can this be hypocrisy? the individual with whom i am conferring, if virtuous, is one of the most disinterestedly virtuous persons in the world.” we tore ourselves from each other. mr. collins promised, as far as he was able, to have an eye upon my vicissitudes, and to assist me, in every respect that was consistent with a just recollection of consequences. thus i parted as it were with the last expiring hope of my mind; and voluntarily consented, thus maimed and forlorn, to encounter all the evils that were yet in store for me.

this is the latest event which at present i think it necessary to record. i shall doubtless hereafter have further occasion to take up the pen. great and unprecedented as my sufferings have been, i feel intimately persuaded that there are worse sufferings that await me. what mysterious cause is it that enables me to write this, and not to perish under the horrible apprehension!