The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete
triumph in the end; so iniquity, though it may prosper for a season,
will at last be overtaken by that punishment and disgrace which are its
due.
CHAPTER FIFTY
FATHOM SHIFTS THE SCENE, AND APPEARS IN A NEW CHARACTER.
Fathom’s expectations with respect to the fair orphan having thus
proved abortive, he lost no time in bewailing his miscarriage, but had
immediate recourse to other means of improving his small fortune,
which, at this period, amounted to near two hundred pounds. Whatever
inclination he had to resume the character he had formerly borne in the
polite world, he durst not venture to launch out again into the expense
necessary to maintain that station, because his former resources were
now stopped, and all the people of fashion by this time convinced of
his being a needy adventurer. Nevertheless, he resolved to sound the
sentiments of his old friends at a distance, and judge, from the
reception he should meet with, how far he might presume upon their
countenance and favour. For he rightly supposed, that if he could in
any shape contribute to their interest or amusement, they would easily
forgive his former pretensions to quality, arrogant as they were, and
still entertain him on the footing of a necessary acquaintance.
With this view, he one day presented himself at court in a very gay
suit of clothes, and bowed, at a distance, to many of his old
fashionable friends of both sexes, not one of whom favoured him with
any other notice, than that of a quarter curtsey, or slight inclination
of the head. For, by this time, the few that remembered him knew from
what retirement he now emerged, and avoided him accordingly as the jail
infection. But the greater part of those who had cultivated him in the
zenith of his fortune were now utter strangers to his person, which
they had actually forgot, amidst the succession of novelties that
surrounded them; or, if they did recollect his name, it was remembered
as an old fashion which had been many months out of date.
Notwithstanding these mortifying discouragements, our hero, that same
evening, effected a lodgment in a certain gaming-house not far from St.
James’s; and, as he played pretty high, and made a parade of his ready
money, he was soon recognised by divers persons of consequence, who
cordially welcomed him to England, on pretence of believing he had been
abroad, and with great complacency repeated their former professions of
friendship. Though this was a certain way of retaining the favour of
those worthies, while his finances continued to flourish, and his
payments were prompt, he knew the weakness of his funds too well, to
think they could bear the vicissitudes of play; and the remembrance of
the two British knights who had spoiled him at Paris, hung over his
imagination with the most frightful presages. Besides, he perceived
that gaming was now managed in such a manner, as rendered skill and
dexterity of no advantage. For the spirit of play having overspread the
land, like a pestilence, raged to such a degree of madness and
desperation, that the unhappy people who were infected, laid aside all
thoughts of amusement, economy, or caution, and risked their fortunes
upon issues equally extravagant, childish, and absurd.
The whole mystery of the art was reduced to the simple exercise of
tossing up a guinea, and the lust of laying wagers, which they indulged
to a surprising pitch of ridiculous intemperance. In one corner of the
room might be heard a pair of lordlings running their grandmothers
against each other, that is, betting sums on the longest liver; in
another the success of the wager depended upon the sex of the
landlady’s next child; and one of the waiters happening to drop down in
an apoplectic fit, a certain noble peer exclaimed, “Dead for a thousand
pounds.” The challenge was immediately accepted; and when the master of
the house sent for a surgeon to attempt the cure, the nobleman, who set
the price upon the patient’s head, insisted upon his being left to the
efforts of nature alone, otherwise the wager should be void. Nay, when
the landlord harped upon the loss he should sustain by the death of a
trusty servant, his lordship obviated the objection, by desiring that
the fellow might be charged in the bill.
In short, the rage of gaming seemed to have devoured all their other
faculties, and to have equalled the rash enthusiasm of the inhabitants
of Malacca in the East Indies, who are so possessed with that
pernicious spirit, that they sacrifice to it not only their fortunes,
but also their wives and children; and then letting their hair down
upon their shoulders, in imitation of the ancient Lacedaemonians when
they devoted themselves to death, those wretches unsheathe their
daggers, and murder every living creature in their way. In this,
however, they differ from the gamesters of our country, who never find
their senses, until they have lost their fortunes, and beggared their
families; whereas the Malays never run amuck, but in consequence of
misery and despair.
Such are the amusements, or rather such is the continual employment of
those hopeful youths who are destined by birth to be the judges of our
property, and pillars of our constitution. Such are the heirs and
representatives of those patriots who planned, and those heroes who
maintained, the laws and freedom of their country; who were the patrons
of merit, the fathers of the poor, the terror of vice and immorality,
and at once the ornaments and support of a happy nation.
Our adventurer considered all these circumstances with his wonted
sagacity, and, seeing upon what precarious footing he must stand,
should he rank himself with such society, he wisely came to the
resolution of descending one step in the degrees of life, and of taking
upon him the title of physician, under which he did not despair of
insinuating himself into the pockets of his patients, and into the
secrets of private families, so as to acquire a comfortable share of
practice, or captivate the heart of some heiress or rich widow, whose
fortune would at once render him independent and happy.
After this determination, his next care was to concert measures for his
first appearance in this new character; well knowing, that the success
of a physician, in a great measure, depends upon the external equipage
in which he first declares himself an adept in the healing art. He
first of all procured a few books on the subject of medicine, which he
studied with great attention during the remaining part of the winter
and spring, and repaired to Tunbridge with the first of the season,
where he appeared in the uniform of Aesculapius, namely, a plain suit,
full trimmed, with a voluminous tie-periwig; believing that in this
place he might glide, as it were, imperceptibly into the functions of
his new employment, and gradually accustom himself to the method and
form of prescription.
A man so well known in the gay world could not be supposed to effect
such a transformation without being observed; and therefore, in order
to anticipate the censure and ridicule of those who might be tempted to
make themselves merry at his expense, he, on his arrival at the wells,
repaired to the shop of an apothecary, and calling for pen, ink, and
paper, wrote a prescription, which he desired might be immediately made
up. While this was doing by the servant, he was invited into a parlour
by the master, with whom he entered into conversation touching the
properties of the Tunbridge water, which seemed to have been his
particular study; and indeed he had perused Rouzee’s treatise on that
subject with indefatigable assiduity. From this theme, he made
digressions into other parts of medicine, upon which he spoke with such
plausible elocution, that the apothecary, whose knowledge in that art
was not very profound, looked upon him as a physician of great learning
and experience, and hinted a desire of knowing his name and situation.
Fathom accordingly gave him to understand, that he had studied physic,
and taken his degrees at Padua, rather for his amusement, than with any
view of exercising medicine, as he then could not possibly foresee the
misfortunes which had since happened to his family, and by which he was
now compelled to have recourse to a profession that was very much
beneath the expectations of his birth. Yet he bore his disappointments
with resignation, and even good-humour, and blessed his stars for
having inclined him to the study of any branch of knowledge by which he
might be enabled to laugh at the vicissitudes of fortune. He then
observed, that he had practised with some applause at the hot well near
Bristol, before he thought he should be ever reduced to the necessity
of taking a fee, and that, in all probability, his metamorphosis, when
known, would furnish matter of surprise and merriment to some of his
old acquaintance.
The apothecary was equally struck with his polite address, and pleased
with his agreeable discourse. He consoled him for the misfortunes of
his family, by assuring him, that in England nothing could be more
honourable, or indeed profitable, than the character of a physician,
provided he could once wriggle himself into practice; and insinuated,
that, although he was restricted by certain engagements with other
persons of the faculty, he should be glad of an opportunity to show his
regard for Doctor Fathom. This was a very effectual method which our
hero took to intimate his new character to the public. By the industry
and communicative disposition of the apothecary, it was circulated in
half a day through every family in the place; and, next morning, when
Ferdinand appeared, the company forthwith assembled in separate groups,
and from each knot he heard his name reverberated in a whisper.
Having thus announced himself to all whom it might concern, and allowed
the ladies two days to discuss the merit of his transfiguration,
together with the novelty of the case, he ventured to salute, at a
distance, a lady and her daughter, who had been his patients at the hot
well; and, although they honoured his bow with the return of a slight
curtsey, they gave him not the least encouragement to make a nearer
approach. Notwithstanding this rebuff, he concluded, that, should the
health of either come in question, they would renew their application
to his skill, and what was refused by their pride would be granted by
their apprehension. Here, however, he happened to be mistaken in his
conjecture.
The young lady being seized with a violent headache and palpitation,
her mother desired the apothecary to recommend a physician; and the
person with whom he was contracted being at that time absent, he
proposed Doctor Fathom as a man of great ability and discretion. But
the good lady rejected the proposal with disdain, because she had
formerly known him in the character of a Count—though that very
character was the chief reason that had then induced her to crave his
advice.
Such is the caprice of the world in general, that whatever bears the
face of novelty captivates, or rather bewitches, the imagination, and
confounds the ideas of reason and common sense. If, for example, a
scullion, from the clinking of pewter, shall conceive a taste for the
clinking of rhyme, and make shift to bring together twenty syllables,
so as that the tenth and last shall have the like ending, the
composition is immediately extolled as a miracle; and what appeals to
the admiration is not the wit, the elegance, or poetry of the work, but
the uncultivated talent and humble station of the author. A reader does
not exclaim, “What a delicate sentiment! what a beautiful simile! what
easy and musical versification!”—but cries in rapture, “Heavens! what a
prodigy a poet from the scullery! a muse in livery! or, Apollo with a