t know it yet;" and he proceeded to observe that
it was for the hotbeds of courtly luxury to mellow and hasten an
opportunity for the disclosure. He instructed Desmarais to see that
Gerald (whom even a valet, at least one so artful as Desmarais, might
easily influence) partook to excess of every pleasure,--at least of
every pleasure which a gentleman might without derogation to his dignity
enjoy. Gerald went to town, and very soon became all that Montreuil
desired.

Montreuil came again to England; his great project, Alberoni's project,
had failed. Banished France and Spain, and excluded Italy, he was
desirous of obtaining an asylum in England, until he could negotiate a
return to Paris. For the first of these purposes (the asylum) interest
was requisite; for the latter (the negotiation) money was desirable.
He came to seek both these necessaries in Gerald Devereux. Gerald had
already arrived at that prosperous state when money is not lightly given
away. A dispute arose; and Montreuil raised the veil, and showed the
heir on what terms his estates were held.

Rightly Montreuil had read the human heart! So long as Gerald lived in
the country, and tasted not the full enjoyments of his great wealth,
it would have been highly perilous to have made this disclosure; for,
though Gerald had no great love for me, and was bold enough to run any
danger, yet he was neither a Desmarais nor a Montreuil. He was that most
capricious thing, a man of honour; and at that day he would instantly
have given up the estate to me, and Montreuil and the philosopher to the
hangman. But, after two or three years of every luxury that wealth
could purchase; after living in those circles, too, where wealth is the
highest possible merit, and public opinion, therefore, only honours the
rich, fortune became far more valuable and the conscience far less nice.
Living at Devereux Court, Gerald had only L30,000 a year; living in
London, he had all that L30,000 a year can purchase: a very great
difference this indeed! Honour is a fine bulwark against a small force;
but, unbacked by other principle, it is seldom well manned enough to
resist a large one. When, therefore, Montreuil showed Gerald that he
could lose his estate in an instant; that the world would never give
him credit for innocence, when guilt would have conferred on him such
advantages; that he would therefore part with all those _et eoetera_
which, now in the very prime of life, made his whole i