No More Learning

"Thus, my friends, you see religion does what philosophy could never do:
it shows the equal dealings of Heaven to the happy and the unhappy, and
levels all human enjoyments to nearly the same standard. It gives to
both rich and poor the same happiness hereafter, and equal hopes to
aspire after it; but if the rich have the advantage of enjoying pleasure
here, the poor have the endless satisfaction of knowing what it was once
to be miserable, when crowned with endless felicity hereafter; and even
though this should be called a small advantage, yet, being an eternal
one, it must make up by duration what the temporal happiness of the
great may have exceeded by intenseness.

"These are, therefore, the consolations which the wretched have peculiar
to themselves, and in which they are above the rest of mankind; in other
respects they are below them. They who would know the miseries of the
poor, must see life and endure it. To declaim on the temporal advantages
they enjoy is only repeating what none either believe or practise. The
men who have the necessaries of living are not poor; and they who want
them must be miserable. Yes, my friends, we must be miserable. No vain
efforts of a refined imagination can soothe the wants of nature, can
give elastic sweetness to the dank vapour of a dungeon, or ease to the
throbbings of a broken heart. Let the philosopher from his couch of
softness tell us that we can resist all these. Alas! the effort by which
we resist them is still the greatest pain. Death is slight, and any man
may sustain it; but torments are dreadful, and these no man can endure.

"To us, then, my friends, the promises of happiness in heaven should be
peculiarly dear; for if our reward be in this life alone, we are,
indeed, of all men the most miserable. When I look round these gloomy
walls, made to terrify as well as to confine us; this light, that only
serves to show the horrors of the place; those shackles, that tyranny
has imposed or crime made necessary; when I survey these emaciated
looks, and hear those groans; Oh, my friends, what a glorious exchange
would heaven be for these! To fly through regions unconfined as air—to
bask in the sunshine of eternal bliss—to carol over endless hymns of
praise—to have no master to threaten or insult us, but the form of
Goodness Himself for ever in our eyes: when I think of these things,
death becomes the messenger of very glad tidings; when I think of these
things, his sharpest arrow becomes the staff of my support; when I think
of these things, what is there in life worth having? when I think of
these things, what is there that should not be spurned away? Kings in
their palaces should groan for such advantages; but we, humbled as we
are, should yearn for them.

"And shall these things be ours? Ours they will certainly be, if we but
try for them; and what is a comfort, we are shut out from many
temptations that would retard our pursuit. Only let us try for them, and
they will certainly be ours; and what is still a comfort, shortly too;
for if we look back on a past life, it appears but a very short span;
and whatever we may think of the rest of life, it will yet be found of
less duration: as we grow older the days seem to grow shorter, and our
intimacy with Time ever lessens the perception of his stay. Then let us
take comfort now, for we shall soon be at our journey's end; we shall
soon lay down the heavy burden laid by Heaven upon us; and though death,
the only friend of the wretched, for a little while mocks the weary
traveller with the view, and, like the horizon, flies before him, yet
the time will certainly and shortly come when we shall cease from our
toil; when the luxurious great ones of the world shall no more tread us
to the earth; when we shall think with pleasure of our sufferings below;
when we shall be surrounded with all our friends, or such as deserved
our friendship; when our bliss shall be unutterable, and still, to crown
all, unending. "




_CHAPTER XXX. _

_Happier prospects begin to appear. —Let us be inflexible,
and fortune will at last change in our favour. _


When I had thus finished, and my audience was retired, the gaoler, who
was one of the most humane of his profession, hoped I would not be
displeased, as what he did was but his duty; observing, that he must be
obliged to remove my son into a stronger cell, but that he should be
permitted to visit me every morning. I thanked him for his clemency, and
grasping my boy's hand, bade him farewell, and be mindful of the great
duty that was before him.

I again therefore laid me down, and one of my little ones sat by my
bedside reading, when Mr. Jenkinson entering, informed me that there was
news of my daughter; for that she was seen by a person about two hours
before in a strange gentleman's company, and that they had stopped at a
neighbouring village for refreshment, and seemed as if returning to
town. He had scarcely delivered his news, when the gaoler came with
looks of haste and pleasure to inform me that my daughter was found!
Moses came running in a moment after, crying out that his sister Sophy
was below, and coming up with our old friend Mr. Burchell.

[Illustration:

"_Mr. Burchell running up, shivered his sword
to pieces, and then pursued him for near a quarter
of a mile; but he made his escape. _"—_p. _ 150.
]


Just as he delivered this news my dearest girl entered, and, with looks
almost wild with pleasure, ran to kiss me in a transport of affection.
Her mother's tears and silence also showed her pleasure.

"Here, papa," cried the charming girl, "here is the brave man to whom I
owe my delivery; to this gentleman's intrepidity I am indebted for my
happiness and safety——. " A kiss from Mr. Burchell, whose pleasure seemed
even greater than hers, interrupted what she was going to add.

"Ah, Mr. Burchell! " cried I, "this is but a wretched habitation you find
us in; and we are now very different from what you last saw us. You were
ever our friend: we have long discovered our errors with regard to you,
and repented of our ingratitude. After the vile usage you then received
at my hands, I am almost ashamed to behold your face; yet I hope you
will forgive me, as I was deceived by a base, ungenerous wretch, who,
under the mask of friendship, has undone me. "

"It is impossible," replied Mr. Burchell, "that I should forgive you, as
you never deserved my resentment. I partly saw your delusion then, and,
as it was out of my power to restrain, I could only pity it. "

"It was ever my conjecture," cried I, "that your mind was noble; but now
I find it so. But tell me, my dear child, how thou hast been relieved,
or who the ruffians were that carried thee away? "

"Indeed, sir," replied she, "as to the villain who carried me off I am
yet ignorant. For as my mamma and I were walking out, he came behind us,
and almost before I could call for help forced me into the post-chaise,
and in an instant the horses drove away. I met several on the road to
whom I cried out for assistance, but they disregarded my entreaties. In
the meantime the ruffian himself used every art to hinder me from crying
out: he flattered and threatened me by turns, and swore that, if I
continued but silent, he intended no harm. In the meantime I had broken
the canvas that he had drawn up, and whom should I perceive at some
distance but your old friend Mr. Burchell, walking along with his usual
swiftness, with the great stick for which we used so much to ridicule
him! As soon as we came within hearing, I called out to him by name, and
entreated his help. I repeated my exclamations several times, upon
which, with a very loud voice, he bade the postilion stop; but the boy
took no notice, but drove on with still greater speed. I now thought he
could never overtake us, when in less than a minute I saw Mr. Burchell
come running up by the side of the horses, and with one blow knocked the
postilion to the ground. The horses, when he was fallen, soon stopped of
themselves, and the ruffian stepping out, with oaths and menaces, drew
his sword, and ordered him at his peril to retire; but Mr. Burchell
running up, shivered his sword to pieces, and then pursued him for near
a quarter of a mile; but he made his escape. I was by this time come out
myself, willing to assist my deliverer; but he soon returned to me in
triumph. The postilion, who was recovered, was going to make his escape
too; but Mr. Burchell ordered him at his peril to mount again, and drive
back to town. Finding it impossible to resist, he reluctantly complied,
though the wound he had received seemed to me at least to be dangerous.
He continued to complain of the pain as we drove along, so that he at
last excited Mr. Burchell's compassion, who, at my request, exchanged
him for another at an inn where we called on our return. "

"Welcome, then," cried I, "my child; and thou, her gallant deliverer, a
thousand welcomes. Though our cheer is but wretched, yet our hearts are
ready to receive you. And now, Mr. Burchell, as you have delivered my
girl, if you think her a recompense, she is yours: if you can stoop to
an alliance with a family so poor as mine, take her, obtain her consent,
as I know you have her heart, and you have mine. And let me tell you,
sir, that I give you no small treasure: she has been celebrated for
beauty, it is true, but that is not my meaning—I give you a treasure in
her mind. "

"But I suppose, sir," cried Mr. Burchell, "that you are apprised of my
circumstances, and of my incapacity to support her as she deserves? "

"If your present objection," replied I, "be meant as an evasion of my
offer, I desist; but I know no man so worthy to deserve her as you; and
if I could give her thousands, and thousands sought her from me, yet my
honest brave Burchell should be my dearest choice. "

To all this his silence alone seemed to give a mortifying refusal; and
without the least reply to my offer, he demanded if we could not be
furnished with refreshments from the next inn; to which being answered
in the affirmative, he ordered them to send in the best dinner that
could be provided upon such short notice. He bespoke also a dozen of
their best wine, and some cordials for me; adding, with a smile, that he
would stretch a little for once; and, though in a prison, asserted he
was never better disposed to be merry. The waiter soon made his
appearance with preparations for dinner; a table was lent us by the
gaoler, who seemed remarkably assiduous; the wine was disposed in order,
and two very well-dressed dishes were brought in.

My daughter had not yet heard of her poor brother's melancholy
situation, and we all seemed unwilling to damp her cheerfulness by the
relation. But it was in vain that I attempted to appear cheerful; the
circumstances of my unfortunate son broke through all efforts to
dissemble; so that I was at last obliged to damp our mirth by relating
his misfortunes, and wishing he might be permitted to share with us in
this little interval of satisfaction. After my guests were recovered
from the consternation my account had produced, I requested also that
Mr. Jenkinson, a fellow-prisoner, might be admitted; and the gaoler
granted my request with an air of unusual submission. The clanking of my
son's irons was no sooner heard along the passage, than his sister ran
impatiently to meet him; while Mr. Burchell, in the meantime, asked me
if my son's name was George; to which replying in the affirmative, he
still continued silent. As soon as my boy entered the room, I could
perceive he regarded Mr. Burchell with a look of astonishment and
reverence. "Come on," cried I, "my son; though we are fallen very low,
yet Providence has been pleased to grant us some small relaxation from
pain. Thy sister is restored to us, and there is her deliverer; to that
brave man it is that I am indebted for yet having a daughter; give him,
my boy, the hand of friendship—he deserves our warmest gratitude. "

My son seemed all this while regardless of what I said, and still
continued fixed at a respectful distance. "My dear brother," cried his
sister, "why don't you thank my good deliverer? The brave should ever
love each other. "

He still continued his silence and astonishment; till our guest at last
perceived himself to be known, and assuming all his native dignity,
desired my son to come forward. Never before had I seen anything so
truly majestic as the air he assumed upon this occasion. The greatest
object in the universe, says a certain philosopher, is a good man
struggling with adversity; yet there is a still greater, which is the
good man that comes to relieve it. After he had regarded my son for some
time with a superior air, "I again find," said he, "unthinking boy, that
the same crime—". But here he was interrupted by one of the gaoler's
servants, who came to inform us that a person of distinction, who had
driven into town with a chariot and several attendants, sent his
respects to the gentleman that was with us, and begged to know when he
should think proper to be waited upon. "Bid the fellow wait," cried our
guest, "till I shall have leisure to receive him:" and then turning to
my son, "I again find, sir," proceeded he, "that you are guilty of the
same offence for which you once had my reproof, and for which the law is
now preparing its justest punishments. You imagine, perhaps, that a
contempt for your own life gives you a right to take that of another:
but where, sir, is the difference between the duellist, who hazards a
life of no value, and the murderer, who acts with greater security? Is
it any diminution of the gamester's fraud, when he alleges that he has
staked a counter? "

"Alas, sir! " cried I, "whoever you are, pity the poor misguided
creature; for what he has done was in obedience to a deluded mother, who
in the bitterness of her resentment required him, upon her blessing, to
avenge her quarrel. Here, sir, is the letter which will serve to
convince you of her imprudence, and diminish his guilt. "

[Illustration:

_"What, Bill, you chubby rogue! " cried he,
"do you remember your old friend Burchell? "_—_p. _ 155.
]


He took the letter, and hastily read it over. "This," said he, "though
not a perfect excuse, is such a palliation of his fault as induces me to
forgive him. And now, sir," continued he, kindly taking my son by the
hand, "I see you are surprised at finding me here; but I have often
visited prisons upon occasions less interesting. I am now come to see
justice done a worthy man, for whom I have the most sincere esteem. I
have long been a disguised spectator of thy father's benevolence. I have
at his little dwelling enjoyed respect uncontaminated by flattery, and
have received that happiness which courts could not give, from the
amusing simplicity round his fireside. My nephew has been apprised of my
intention of coming here, and I find he is arrived: it would be wronging
him and you to condemn him without examination; if there be injury there
shall be redress; and this I may say without boasting, that none have
ever taxed the injustice of Sir William Thornhill. "

We now found that the personage whom we had so long entertained as a
harmless, amusing companion, was no other than the celebrated Sir
William Thornhill, to whose virtues and singularities scarcely any were
strangers. The poor Mr. Burchell was in reality a man of large fortune
and great interest, to whom senates listened with applause, and whom
party heard with conviction; who was the friend of his country, but
loyal to his king. My poor wife, recollecting her former familiarity,
seemed to shrink with apprehension; but Sophia, who a few moments before
thought him her own, now perceiving the immense distance to which he was
removed by fortune, was unable to conceal her tears.

"Ah, sir," cried my wife, with a piteous aspect, "how is it possible
that I can ever have your forgiveness? The slights you received from me
the last time I had the honour of seeing you at our house, and the jokes
which I so audaciously threw out—these, sir, I fear, can never be
forgiven. "

"My dear, good lady," returned he, with a smile, "if you had your joke,
I had my answer. I'll leave it to all the company if mine were not as
good as yours. To say the truth, I know nobody whom I am disposed to be
angry with at present, but the fellow who so frightened my little girl
here! I had not even time to examine the rascal's person, so as to
describe him in an advertisement. Can you tell me, Sophia, my dear,
whether you should know him again? "

"Indeed, sir," replied she, "I cannot be positive; yet, now I recollect,
he had a large mark over one of his eyebrows. " "I ask pardon, madam,"
interrupted Jenkinson, who was by, "but be so good as to inform me if
the fellow wore his own red hair. " "Yes; I think so," cried Sophia. "And
did your honour," continued he, turning to Sir William, "observe the
length of his legs? " "I can't be sure of their length," cried the
baronet, "but I am convinced of their swiftness; for he outran me, which
is what I thought few men in the kingdom could have done. " "Please your
honour," cried Jenkinson, "I know the man; it is certainly the same: the
best runner in England; he has beaten Pinwire, of Newcastle. Timothy
Baxter is his name: I know him perfectly, and the very place of his
retreat at this moment. If your honour will bid Mr. Gaoler let two of
his men go with me, I'll engage to produce him to you in an hour at
farthest. " Upon this the gaoler was called, who instantly appearing, Sir
William demanded if he knew him. "Yes, please your honour," replied the
gaoler, "I know Sir William Thornhill well; and everybody that knows
anything of him, will desire to know more of him. " "Well, then," said
the baronet, "my request is, that you will permit this man and two of
your servants to go upon a message by my authority, and, as I am in the
commission of the peace, I undertake to secure you. " "Your promise is
sufficient," replied the other, "and you may, at a minute's warning,
send them over England whenever your honour thinks fit. "

In pursuance of the gaoler's compliance, Jenkinson was despatched in
pursuit of Timothy Baxter, while we were amused with the assiduity of
our youngest boy, Bill, who had just come in, and climbed up to Sir
William's neck in order to kiss him. His mother was immediately going to
chastise his familiarity, but the worthy man prevented her; and taking
the child, all ragged as he was, upon his knee, "What, Bill, you chubby
rogue! " cried he, "do you remember your old friend Burchell? And Dick,
too, my honest veteran, are you here? You shall find I have not forgot
you. " So saying, he gave each a large piece of gingerbread, which the
poor fellows ate very heartily, as they had got that morning but a very
scanty breakfast.

We now sat down to dinner, which was almost cold: but previously, my arm
still continuing painful, Sir William wrote a prescription, for he had
made the study of physic his amusement, and was more than moderately
skilled in the profession: this being sent to an apothecary who lived in
the place, my arm was dressed, and I found almost instantaneous relief.
We were waited upon at dinner by the gaoler himself, who was willing to
do our guest all the honour in his power. But before we had well dined,
another message was brought from his nephew, desiring permission to
appear, in order to vindicate his innocence and honour; with which
request the baronet complied, and desired Mr. Thornhill to be
introduced.




_CHAPTER XXXI. _

_Former benevolence now repaid with unexpected interest. _


Mr. Thornhill made his entrance with a smile, which he seldom wanted,
and was going to embrace his uncle, which the other repulsed with an air
of disdain. "No fawning, sir, at present," cried the baronet, with a
look of severity; "the only way to my heart is by the road of honour;
but here I only see complicated instances of falsehood, cowardice, and
oppression. How is it, sir, that this poor man, for whom I know you
professed a friendship, is used thus hardly? His daughter vilely seduced
as a recompense for his hospitality, and he himself thrown into prison,
perhaps but for resenting the insult. His son, too, whom you feared to
face as a man——"

"Is it possible, sir," interrupted his nephew, "that my uncle should
object that as a crime which his repeated instructions alone have
persuaded me to avoid? "

"Your rebuke," cried Sir William, "is just: you have acted in this
instance prudently and well, though not quite as your father would have
done: my brother, indeed, was the soul of honour; but thou——yes, you
have acted in this instance perfectly right, and it has my warmest
approbation. "

"And I hope," said his nephew, "that the rest of my conduct will not be
found to deserve censure. I appeared, sir, with this gentleman's
daughter at some places of public amusement; thus, what was levity
scandal called by a harsher name, and it was reported that I had
debauched her. I waited on her father in person, willing to clear the
thing to his satisfaction, and he received me only with insult and
abuse. As for the rest, with regard to his being here, my attorney, and
steward can best inform you, as I commit the management of business
entirely to them. If he has contracted debts, and is unwilling, or even
unable, to pay them, it is their business to proceed in this manner; and
I see no hardship or injustice in pursuing the most legal means of
redress. "

"If this," cried Sir William, "be as you have stated it, there is
nothing unpardonable in your offences; and though your conduct might
have been more generous in not suffering this gentleman to be oppressed
by subordinate tyranny, yet it has been at least equitable. "

[Illustration:

_"And I hope," said his nephew, "that
the rest of my conduct will not be found
to deserve censure. "_—_p. _ 156.
]


"He cannot contradict a singular particular," replied the squire; "I
defy him to do so; and several of my servants are ready to attest what I
say. Thus, sir," continued he, finding that I was silent, for in fact I
could not contradict him: "thus, sir, my own innocence is vindicated:
but though at your entreaty I am ready to forgive this gentleman every
other offence, yet his attempts to lessen me in your esteem excite a
resentment that I cannot govern; and this, too, at a time when his son
was actually preparing to take away my life; this, I say, was such
guilt, that I am determined to let the law take its course. I have here
the challenge that was sent me, and two witnesses to prove it; one of my
servants has been wounded dangerously; and even though my uncle himself
should dissuade me, which I know he will not, yet I will see public
justice done, and he shall suffer for it. "

"Thou monster! " cried my wife, "hast thou not had vengeance enough
already, but must my poor boy feel thy cruelty? I hope that good Sir
William will protect us, for my son is as innocent as a child; I am sure
he is, and never did harm to man. "

"Madam," replied the good man, "your wishes for his safety are not
greater than mine; but I am sorry to find his guilt too plain; and if my
nephew persists——" But the appearance of Jenkinson and the gaolers two
servants now called off our attention, who entered hauling in a tall
man, very genteelly dressed, and answering the description already given
of the ruffian who had carried off my daughter. "Here," cried Jenkinson,
pulling him in, "Here we have him: and, if ever there was a candidate
for Tyburn, this is one. "

The moment Mr. Thornhill perceived the prisoner, and Jenkinson who had
him in custody, he seemed to shrink backward with terror. His face
became pale with conscious guilt, and he would have withdrawn; but
Jenkinson, who perceived his design, stopped him. "What, squire! " cried
he, "are you ashamed of your two old acquaintances, Jenkinson and
Baxter? But this is the way that all great men forget their friends,
though I am resolved we will not forget you. Our prisoner, please your
honour," continued he, turning to Sir William, "has already confessed
all. This is the gentleman reported to be so dangerously wounded; he
declares that it was Mr. Thornhill who first put him upon this affair;
that he gave him the clothes he now wears to appear like a gentleman,
and furnished him with the post-chaise. The plan was laid between them,
that he should carry off the young lady to a place of safety, and that
there he should threaten and terrify her; but Mr. Thornhill was to come
in in the meantime, as if by accident, to her rescue, and that they
should fight awhile, and then he was to run off, by which Mr. Thornhill
would have the better opportunity of gaining her affections himself
under the character of her defender. "

Sir William remembered the coat to have been frequently worn by his
nephew, and all the rest the prisoner himself confirmed by a more
circumstantial account; concluding, that Mr. Thornhill had often
declared to him that he was in love with both sisters at the same time.

"Heavens! " cried Sir William, "what a viper have I been fostering in my
bosom! And so fond of public justice, too, as he seemed to be! But he
shall have it. Secure him, Mr. Gaoler. Yet hold; I fear there is no
legal evidence to detain him. "

Upon this, Mr. Thornhill, with the utmost humility, entreated that two
such abandoned wretches might not be admitted as evidence against him,
but that his servants should be examined. "Your servants! " replied Sir
William; "wretch! call them yours no longer: but come, let us hear what
those fellows have to say: let his butler be called.
"

When the butler was introduced, he soon perceived by his former master's
looks that all his power was now over. "Tell me," cried Sir William,
sternly, "have you ever seen your master and that fellow dressed up in
his clothes in company together? " "Yes, please your honour," cried the
butler, "a thousand times: he was the man that always brought him his
ladies. " "How! " interrupted young Mr. Thornhill, "this to my face? "
"Yes," replied the butler; "or to any man's face. To tell you a truth,
Master Thornhill, I never either loved you or liked you, and I don't
care if I tell you now a piece of my mind. " "Now then," cried Jenkinson,
"tell his honour whether you know anything of me. " "I can't say,"
replied the butler, "that I know much good of you. The night that
gentleman's daughter was deluded to our house, you were one of them. "
"So then," cried Sir William, "I find you have brought a very fine
witness to prove your innocence; thou stain to humanity! to associate
with such wretches! But," continuing his examination, "you tell me, Mr.
Butler, that this was the person who brought him this old gentleman's
daughter. " "No, please your honour," replied the butler, "he did not
bring her, for the squire himself undertook that business; but he
brought the priest that pretended to marry them. "

"It is but too true," cried Jenkinson; "I cannot deny it; that was the
employment assigned to me, and I confess it to my confusion. "

"Good Heavens! " exclaimed the worthy baronet, "how every new discovery
of his villainy alarms me! All his guilt is now too plain, and I find
his present prosecution was dictated by tyranny, cowardice, and revenge:
at my request, Mr. Gaoler, set this young officer, now your prisoner,
free, and trust to me for the consequences. I'll make it my business to
set the affair in a proper light to my friend the magistrate who has
committed him. But where is the unfortunate young lady herself? Let her
appear to confront this wretch. I long to know by what arts he has
seduced her. Entreat her to come in. Where is she? "

"Ah, sir! " said I, "that question stings me to the heart. I was once
indeed happy in a daughter, but her miseries——" Another interruption
here prevented me; for who should make her appearance but Miss Arabella
Wilmot, who was the next day to have been married to Mr. Thornhill.
Nothing could equal her surprise at seeing Sir William and his nephew
here before her; for her arrival was quite accidental. It happened that
she and the old gentleman, her father, were passing through the town on
their way to her aunt's, who had insisted that her nuptials with Mr.
Thornhill should be consummated at her house; but, stopping for
refreshment, they put up at an inn at the other end of the town. It was
there, from the window, that the young lady happened to observe one of
my little boys playing in the street, and, instantly sending a footman
to bring the child to her, she learnt from him some account of our
misfortunes, but was still kept ignorant of young Mr. Thornhill's being
the cause. Though her father made several remonstrances on the
impropriety of her going to a prison to visit us, yet they were
ineffectual: she desired the child to conduct her, which he did, and it
was thus she surprised us at a juncture so unexpected.

Nor can I go on without a reflection on those accidental meetings,
which, though they happen every day, seldom excite our surprise but upon
some extraordinary occasion. To what a fortuitous concurrence do we not
owe every pleasure and convenience of our lives! How many seeming
accidents must unite before we can be clothed or fed! The peasant must
be disposed to labour, the shower must fall, the wind fill the
merchant's sail, or numbers must want the usual supply.

We all continued silent for some moments, while my charming pupil, which
was the name I generally gave this young lady, united in her looks
compassion and astonishment, which gave new finishings to her beauty.
"Indeed, my dear Mr. Thornhill," cried she to the squire, who she
supposed was come here to succour and not to oppress us, "I take it a
little unkindly that you should come here without me, or never inform me
of the situation of a family so dear to us both: you know I should take
as much pleasure in contributing to the relief of my reverend old master
here, whom I shall ever esteem, as you can. But I find that, like your
uncle, you take a pleasure in doing good in secret. "

"He find pleasure in doing good! " cried Sir William, interrupting her:
"no, my dear, his pleasures are as base as he is. You see in him, madam,
as complete a villain as ever disgraced humanity. A wretch, who, after
having deluded this poor man's daughter, after plotting against the
innocence of her sister, has thrown the father into prison, and the
eldest son into fetters, because he had the courage to face her
betrayer! And give me leave, madam, now to congratulate you upon an
escape from the embraces of such a monster. "

[Illustration:

"_We had now, therefore, the satisfaction
of seeing them fly into each other's arms
in a transport. _"—_p. _ 164.
]

"O goodness! " cried the lovely girl, "how have I been deceived! Mr.
Thornhill informed me, for certain, that this gentleman's eldest son,
Captain Primrose, was gone off to America with his new-married lady. "

"My sweetest miss," cried my wife, "he has told you nothing but
falsehoods. My son George never left the kingdom, nor ever was married.
Though you have forsaken him, he has always loved you too well to think
of anybody else; and I have heard him say he would die a bachelor for
your sake. " She then proceeded to expatiate upon the sincerity of her
son's passion; she set his duel with Mr. Thornhill in a proper light;
from thence she made a rapid digression to the squire's debaucheries,
his pretended marriages, and ended with a most insulting picture of his
cowardice.

"Good Heaven! " cried Miss Wilmot, "how very near have I been to the
brink of ruin! but how great is my pleasure to have escaped it! Ten
thousand falsehoods has this gentleman told me! He had at last art
enough to persuade me that my promise to the only man I esteemed was no
longer binding, since he had been unfaithful. By his falsehoods I was
taught to detest one equally brave and generous. "

But by this time my son was freed from the incumbrances of justice, as
the person supposed to be wounded was detected to be an impostor. Mr.
Jenkinson also, who had acted as his valet-de-chambre, had dressed up
his hair, and furnished him with whatever was necessary to make a
genteel appearance. He now, therefore, entered, handsomely dressed in
his regimentals, and without vanity (for I am above it) he appeared as
handsome a fellow as ever wore a military dress. As he entered, he made
Miss Wilmot a modest and distant bow, for he was not as yet acquainted
with the change which the eloquence of his mother had wrought in his
favour. But no decorums could restrain the impatience of his blushing
mistress to be forgiven. Her tears, her looks, all contributed to
discover the real sensations of her heart, for having forgotten her
former promise, and having suffered herself to be deluded by an
impostor. My son appeared amazed at her condescension, and could
scarcely believe it real. "Sure, madam," cried he, "this is but
delusion; I can never have merited this! To be blessed thus, is to be
too happy! " "No sir," replied she, "I have been deceived, basely
deceived, else nothing could have ever made me unjust to my promise. You
know my friendship, you have long known it: but forget what I have done;
and, as you once had my warmest vows of constancy, you shall now have
them repeated; and be assured, that if your Arabella cannot be yours,
she shall never be another's. " "And no other's you shall be," cried Sir
William, "if I have any influence with your father. "

This hint was sufficient for my son Moses, who immediately flew to the
inn where the old gentleman was, to inform him of every circumstance
that had happened. But in the meantime the squire, perceiving that he
was on every side undone, now finding that no hopes were left from
flattery or dissimulation, concluded that his wisest way would be to
turn and face his pursuers. Thus, laying aside all shame, he appeared
the open, hardy villain. "I find, then," cried he, "that I am to expect
no justice here; but I am resolved it shall be done me. You shall know,
sir," turning to Sir William, "I am no longer a poor dependant upon your
favours. I scorn them. Nothing can keep Miss Wilmot's fortune from me,
which, I thank her father's assiduity, is pretty large. The articles and
a bond for her fortune are signed, and safe in my possession. It was her
fortune, not her person, that induced me to wish for this match; and,
possessed of the one, let who will take the other. "

This was an alarming blow: Sir William was sensible of the justice of
his claims, for he had been instrumental in drawing up the
marriage-articles himself. Miss Wilmot, therefore, perceiving that her
fortune was irretrievably lost, turning to my son, asked if the loss of
fortune could lessen her value to him. "Though fortune," said she, "is
out of my power, at least I have my hand to give. "

"And that, madam," cried her real lover, "was indeed all that you ever
had to give; at least, all that I ever thought worth the acceptance. And
I now protest, my Arabella, by all that's happy, your want of fortune
this moment increases my pleasure, as it serves to convince my sweet
girl of my sincerity. "

Mr. Wilmot now entering, he seemed not a little pleased at the danger
his daughter had just escaped, and readily consented to a dissolution of
the match. But finding that her fortune, which was secured to Mr.
Thornhill by bond, would not be given up, nothing could exceed his
disappointment. He now saw that his money must all go to enrich one who
had no fortune of his own. He could bear his being a rascal, but to want
an equivalent to his daughter's fortune was wormwood. He sat, therefore,
for some minutes employed in the most mortifying speculations, till Sir
William attempted to lessen his anxiety. "I must confess, sir," cried
he, "that your present disappointment does not entirely displease me.
Your immoderate passion for wealth is now justly punished. But though
the young lady cannot be rich, she has still a competence sufficient to
give content. Here you see an honest young soldier, who is willing to
take her without fortune: they have long loved each other, and for the
friendship I bear his father, my interest shall not be wanting in his
promotion. Leave, then, that ambition which disappoints you, and for
once admit that happiness which courts your acceptance. "

"Sir William," replied the old gentleman, "be assured I never yet forced
her inclinations, nor will I now. If she still continues to love this
young gentleman, let her have him with all my heart. There is still,
thank Heaven, some fortune left, and your promise will make it something
more. Only let my old friend here" (meaning me) "give me a promise of
settling six thousand pounds upon my girl, if ever he should come to his
fortune, and I am ready this night to be the first to join them
together. "

As it now remained with me to make the young couple happy, I readily
gave a promise of making the settlement he required; which, to one who
had such little expectations as I, was no great favour. We had now,
therefore, the satisfaction of seeing them fly into each other's arms in
a transport. "After all my misfortunes," cried my son George, "to be
thus rewarded! Sure this is more than I could ever have presumed to hope
for. To be possessed of all that's good, and after such an interval of
pain! my warmest wishes could never rise so high! " "Yes, my George,"
returned his lovely bride, "now let the wretch take my fortune: since
you are happy without it, so am I. Oh, what an exchange have I made from
the basest of men to the dearest, best! Let him enjoy our fortune; I now
can be happy even in indigence. " "And I promise you," cried the squire,
with a malicious grin, "that I shall be very happy with what you
despise. " "Hold, hold, sir! " cried Jenkinson; "there are two words to
that bargain. As for that lady's fortune, sir, you shall never touch a
single stiver of it. Pray, your honour," continued he to Sir William,
"can the squire have this lady's fortune if he be married to another? "
"How can you make such a simple demand? " replied the baronet:
"undoubtedly he cannot. " "I am sorry for that," cried Jenkinson; "for as
this gentleman and I have been old fellow-sporters, I have a friendship
for him. But I must declare, well as I love him, that his contract is
not worth a tobacco-stopper, for he is married already. " "You lie, like
a rascal! " returned the squire, who seemed roused by this insult; "I
never was legally married to any woman. " "Indeed, begging your honour's
pardon," replied the other, "you were; and I hope you will show a proper
return of friendship to your own honest Jenkinson, who brings you a
wife; and if the company restrain their curiosity a few minutes, they
shall see her. " So saying, he went off with his usual celerity, and left
us all unable to form any probable conjecture as to his design. "Aye,
let him go," cried the squire: "whatever else I may have done, I defy
him there. I am too old now to be frightened with squibs. "

[Illustration:

"_So saying, he put the license into the
baronet's hands, who read it, and found it
perfect in every respect. _"—_p. _ 166.
]


"I am surprised," said the baronet, "what the fellow can intend by this.
Some low piece of humour, I suppose. " "Perhaps, sir," replied I, "he may
have a more serious meaning. For when we reflect on the various schemes
this gentleman has laid to seduce innocence, perhaps some one, more
artful than the rest, has been found able to deceive him. When we
consider what numbers he has ruined, how many parents now feel with
anguish the infamy and the contamination which he has brought into their
families, it would not surprise me if some one of them—Amazement! Do I
see my lost daughter? Do I hold her? It is, it is—my life, my happiness!
I thought thee lost, my Olivia, yet still I hold thee, and still thou
shalt live to bless me. " The warmest transports of the fondest lover
were not greater than mine, when I saw him introduce my child, and held
my daughter in my arms, whose silence only spoke her raptures. "And art
thou returned to me, my darling," cried I, "to be my comfort in age? "
"That she is," cried Jenkinson; "and make much of her, for she is your
own honourable child, and as honest a woman as any in the whole room,
let the other be who she will. And as for you, squire, as sure as you
stand there, this young lady is your lawful wedded wife: and to convince
you that I speak nothing but the truth, here is the license by which you
were married together. " So saying, he put the license into the baronet's
hands, who read it, and found it perfect in every respect. "And now,
gentlemen," continued he, "I find you are surprised at all this; but a
very few words will explain the difficulty. That there squire of renown,
for whom I have a great friendship (but that's between ourselves) has
often employed me in doing odd little things for him. Among the rest he
commissioned me to procure him a false license, and a false priest, in
order to deceive this young lady. But as I was very much his friend,
what did I do, but went and got a true license and a true priest, and
married them both as fast as the cloth could make them. Perhaps you'll
think it was generosity made me do all this. But no. To my shame I
confess it, my only design was to keep the license, and let the squire
know that I could prove it upon him whenever I thought proper, and so
make him come down whenever I wanted money. " A burst of pleasure now
seemed to fill the whole apartment; our joy even reached the
common-room, where the prisoners themselves sympathised,

And shook their chains
In transport and rude harmony.

Happiness was expanded upon every face, and even Olivia's cheeks seemed
flushed with pleasure. To be thus restored to reputation, to friends,
and fortune at once, was a rapture sufficient to stop the progress of
decay, and restore former health and vivacity. But, perhaps, among all,
there was not one who felt sincerer pleasure than I. Still holding the
dear-loved child in my arms, I asked my heart if these transports were
not delusion. "How could you," cried I, turning to Jenkinson, "how could
you add to my miseries by the story of her death? But it matters not: my
pleasure at finding her again is more than a recompense for the pain. "

"As to your question," replied Jenkinson, "that is easily answered. I
thought the only probable means of freeing you from prison, was by
submitting to the squire, and consenting to his marriage with the other
young lady. But these you had vowed never to grant while your daughter
was living; there was, therefore, no other method to bring things to
bear, but by persuading you that she was dead. I prevailed on your wife
to join in the deceit, and we have not had a fit opportunity of
undeceiving you till now. "

In the whole assembly there now appeared only two faces that did not
glow with transport. Mr. Thornhill's assurance had entirely forsaken
him; he now saw the gulf of infamy and want before him, and trembled to
take the plunge. He therefore fell on his knees before his uncle, and in
a voice of piercing misery implored compassion. Sir William was going to
spurn him away, but at my request he raised him, and after pausing a few
moments, "Thy vices, crimes, and ingratitude," cried he, "deserve no
tenderness; yet thou shalt not be entirely forsaken; a bare competence
shall be supplied to support the wants of life, but not its follies.
This young lady, thy wife, shall be put in possession of a third part of
that fortune which once was thine; and from her tenderness alone thou
art to expect any extraordinary supplies for the future. " He was going
to express his gratitude for such kindness in a set speech; but the
baronet prevented him, by bidding him not aggravate his meanness, which
was already but too apparent. He ordered him at the same time to be
gone, and from all his former domestics to choose one, and such as he
should think proper, which was all that should be granted to attend him.

As soon as he left us, Sir William very politely stepped up to his new
niece with a smile, and wished her joy. His example was followed by Miss
Wilmot and her father; my wife too kissed her daughter with much
affection, as, to use her own expression, she was now made an honest
woman of. Sophia and Moses followed in turn, and even our benefactor
Jenkinson desired to be admitted to that honour. Our satisfaction seemed
scarcely capable of increase. Sir William, whose greatest pleasure was
in doing good, now looked round with a countenance open as the sun, and
saw nothing but joy in the looks of all except that of my daughter
Sophia, who, for some reasons we could not comprehend, did not seem
perfectly satisfied. "I think now," cried he, with a smile, "that all
the company, except one or two, seem perfectly happy. There only remains
an act of justice for me to do. You are sensible, sir," continued he,
turning to me, "of the obligations we both owe to Mr. Jenkinson; and it
is but just we should both reward him for it. Miss Sophia will, I am
sure, make him very happy, and he shall have five hundred pounds as her
fortune; and upon this, I am sure, they can live very comfortably
together. Come, Miss Sophia, what say you to this match of my making?
will you have him? " My poor girl seemed almost sinking into her mother's
arms at the hideous proposal. "Have him, sir! " cried she, faintly; "no,
sir, never! " "What! " cried he again, "not Mr. Jenkinson, your
benefactor; a handsome young fellow, with five-hundred pounds and good
expectations? " "I beg, sir," returned she, scarcely able to speak, "that
you'll desist, and not make me so very wretched. " "Was ever such
obstinacy known? " cried he again, "to refuse the man whom the family has
such infinite obligations to—who has preserved your sister, and who has
five hundred pounds? What! not have him!