therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and

afterwards at Cambridge; most important assistance, as his own father,

always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to

give him a gentleman’s education. My father was not only fond of this

young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, he had also the

highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession,

intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years

since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The

vicious propensities, the want of principle, which he was careful to

guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the

observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who

had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy

could not have. Here again I shall give you pain—to what degree you

only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has

created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding

his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father

died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the

last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to

promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might

allow, and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living

might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of

one{250} thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine; and

within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me

that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should

not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate

pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could not be

benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I