The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete

by T. Smollett

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  HE ARRIVES AT PARIS, AND IS PLEASED WITH HIS RECEPTION.

  He was not so smitten with the delightful situation of this ancient town,but that he abandoned it as soon as he could procure a post-chaise, inwhich he arrived at Paris, without having been exposed to any othertroublesome adventure upon the road. He took lodgings at a certain hotelin the Fauxbourg de St. Germain, which is the general rendezvous of allthe strangers that resort to this capital; and now sincerelycongratulated himself upon his happy escape from his Hungarianconnexions, and from the snares of the banditti, as well as upon thespoils of the dead body, and his arrival at Paris, from whence there wassuch a short conveyance to England, whither he was attracted, by farother motives than that of filial veneration for his native soil.

  He suppressed all his letters of recommendation, which he justlyconcluded would subject him to a tedious course of attendance upon thegreat, and lay him under the necessity of soliciting preferment in thearmy, than which nothing was farther from his inclination; and resolvedto make his appearance in the character of a private gentleman, whichwould supply him with opportunities of examining the different scenes oflife in such a gay metropolis, so as that he should be able to choosethat sphere in which he could move the most effectually to his ownadvantage. He accordingly hired an occasional domestic, and under thedenomination of Count Fathom, which he had retained since his elopementfrom Renaldo, repaired to dinner at an ordinary, to which he was directedas a reputable place, frequented by fashionable strangers of all nations.

  He found this piece of information perfectly just; for he no soonerentered the apartment, than his ears were saluted with a strangeconfusion of sounds, among which he at once distinguished the High andLow Dutch, barbarous French, Italian, and English languages. He wasrejoiced at this occasion of displaying his own qualifications, took hisplace at one of the three long tables, betwixt a Westphalian count and aBolognian marquis, insinuated himself into the conversation with hisusual address, and in less than half an hour, found means to accost anative of each different country in his own mother-tongue.

  Such extensive knowledge did not pass unobserved. A French abbe, in aprovincial dialect, complimented him upon his retaining that purity inpronunciation, which is not to be found in the speech of a Parisian. TheBolognian, mistaking him for a Tuscan, "Sir," said he, "I presume you arefrom Florence. I hope the illustrious house of Lorrain leaves yougentlemen of that famous city no room to regret the loss of your ownprinces." The castle of Versailles becoming the subject of conversation,Monsieur le Compte appealed to him, as to a native German, whether it wasnot inferior in point of magnificence to the chateau of Grubenhagen. TheDutch officer, addressing himself to Fathom, drank to the prosperity ofFaderland, and asked if he had not once served in garrison atShenkenschans; and an English knight swore, with great assurance, that hehad frequently rambled with him at midnight among the hundreds of Drury.

  To each person he replied in a polite, though mysterious manner, whichdid not fail to enhance their opinion of his good breeding andimportance; and, long before the dessert appeared, he was by all thecompany supposed to be a personage of great consequence, who for somesubstantial reasons, found it convenient to keep himself incognito. Thisbeing the case, it is not to be doubted that particular civilities werepoured upon him from all quarters. He perceived their sentiments, andencouraged them, by behaving with that sort of complaisance which seemsto be the result of engaging condescension in a character of superiordignity and station. His affability was general but his chief attentionlimited to those gentlemen already mentioned, who chanced to sit nearesthim at table; and he no sooner gave them to understand that he was anutter stranger in Paris, than they unanimously begged to have the honourof making him acquainted with the different curiosities peculiar to thatmetropolis.

  He accepted of their hospitality, accompanied them to a coffee-house inthe afternoon, from whence they repaired to the opera, and afterwardsadjourned to a noted hotel, in order to spend the remaining part of theevening. It was here that our hero secured himself effectually in thefooting he had gained in their good graces. He in a moment saw throughall the characters of the party, and adapted himself to the humour ofeach individual, without descending from that elevation of behaviourwhich he perceived would operate among them in his behalf. With theItalian he discoursed on music, in the style of a connoisseur; and indeedhad a better claim to that title than the generality of those upon whomit is usually conferred; for he understood the art in theory as well asin practice, and would have made no contemptible figure among the bestperformers of the age.

  He harangued upon taste and genius to the abbe, who was a wit and critic,ex officio, or rather ex vestitu for a young pert Frenchman, the verymoment he puts on the petit collet, or little band, looks upon himself asan inspired son of Apollo; and every one of the fraternity thinks itincumbent upon him to assert the divinity of his mission. In a word, theabbes are a set of people that bear a strong analogy to the templars inLondon. Fools of each fabric, sharpers of all sorts, and dunces of everydegree, profess themselves of both orders. The templar is, generallyspeaking, a prig, so is the abbe: both are distinguished by an air ofpetulance and self-conceit, which holds a middle rank betwixt theinsolence of a first-rate buck and the learned pride of a superciliouspedant. The abbe is supposed to be a younger brother in quest ofpreferment in the church--the Temple is considered as a receptacle orseminary for younger sons intended for the bar; but a great number ofeach profession turn aside into other paths of life, long before theyreach these proposed goals. An abbe is often metamorphosed into a footsoldier; a templar sometimes sinks into an attorney's clerk. The galleysof France abound with abbes; and many templars may be found in ourAmerican plantations; not to mention those who have made a public exitnearer home. Yet I would not have it thought that my descriptionincludes every individual of those societies. Some of the greatestscholars, politicians, and wits, that ever Europe produced, have worn thehabit of an abbe; and many of our most noble families in England derivetheir honours from those who have studied law in the Temple. The worthysons of every community shall always be sacred from my censure andridicule; and, while I laugh at the folly of particular members, I canstill honour and revere the institution.

  But let us return from this comparison, which some readers may thinkimpertinent and unseasonable, and observe, that the Westphalian count,Dutch officer, and English knight, were not excepted from the particularregard and attention of our adventurer. He pledged the German in everybumper; flattered the Hollander with compliments upon the industry,wealth, and policy of the Seven United Provinces; but he reserved hischief battery for his own countryman, on the supposition that he was, inall respects, the best adapted for the purposes of a needy gamester.Him, therefore, he cultivated with extraordinary care and singularobservance; for he soon perceived him to be a humourist, and, from thatcircumstance, derived an happy presage of his own success. The baronet'sdisposition seemed to be cast in the true English mould. He was sour,silent, and contemptuous; his very looks indicated a consciousness ofsuperior wealth; and he never opened his mouth, except to make some dry,sarcastic, national reflection. Nor was his behaviour free from that airof suspicion which a man puts on when he believes himself in a crowd ofpick-pockets, whom his caution and vigilance set at defiance. In a word,though his tongue was silent on the subject, his whole demeanour wascontinually saying, "You are all a pack of poor lousy rascals, who have adesign upon my purse. 'Tis true, I could buy your whole generation, butI won't be bubbled, d'ye see; I am aware of your flattery, and upon myguard against all your knavish pranks; and I come into your company formy own amusement only."

  Fathom having reconnoitred this peculiarity of temper, instead oftreating him with that assiduous complaisance, which he received from theother gentlemen of the party, kept aloof from him in the conversation,with a remarkable shyness of distant civility, and seldom took notice ofwhat he said, except with a view to cont
radict him, or retort some of hissatirical observations. This he conceived to be the best method ofacquiring his good opinion; because the Englishman would naturallyconclude he was a person who could have no sinister views upon hisfortune, else he would have chosen quite a different manner ofdeportment. Accordingly, the knight seemed to bite at the hook. Helistened to Ferdinand with uncommon regard; he was even heard to commendhis remarks, and at length drank to their better acquaintance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ACQUITS HIMSELF WITH ADDRESS IN A NOCTURNAL RIOT.