No More Learning

I had still, however,
half-a-guinea left, and of that I thought Fortune herself should not
deprive me; but, in order to be sure of this, I was resolved to go
instantly and spend it while I had it, and then trust to occurrences for
the rest. As I was going along with this resolution, it happened that
Mr. Crispe's office seemed invitingly open to give me a welcome
reception. In this office Mr. Crispe kindly offers all his majesty's
subjects a generous promise of thirty pounds a-year, for which promise
all they give in return is their liberty for life, and permission to let
him transport them to America as slaves. I was happy at finding a place
where I could lose my fears in desperation, and entered this cell, for
it had the appearance of one, with the devotion of a monastic. Here I
found a number of poor creatures, all in circumstances like myself,
expecting the arrival of Mr. Crispe, presenting a true epitome of
English impatience. Each untractable soul at variance with fortune
wreaked her injuries on their own hearts; but Mr. Crispe at last came
down, and all our murmurs were hushed. He deigned to regard me with an
air of peculiar approbation, and indeed he was the first man who, for a
month past, talked to me with smiles. After a few questions, he found I
was fit for everything in the world. He paused awhile upon the properest
means of providing for me, and slapping his forehead as if he had found
it, assured me that there was at that time an embassy talked of from the
synod of Pennsylvania to the Chickasaw Indians, and that he would use
his interest to get me made secretary. I knew in my own heart that the
fellow lied, and yet his promise gave me pleasure, there was something
so magnificent in the sound. I fairly, therefore, divided my
half-guinea, one-half of which went to be added to his thirty thousand
pounds, and with the other half I resolved to go to the next tavern, to
be there more happy than he.

"As I was going out with that resolution, I was met at the door by the
captain of a ship, with whom I had formerly some little acquaintance,
and he agreed to be my companion over a bowl of punch. As I never chose
to make a secret of my circumstances, he assured me that I was upon the
very point of ruin, in listening to the office-keeper's promises; for
that he only designed to sell me to the plantations. 'But,' continued
he, 'I fancy you might by a much shorter voyage be very easily put into
a genteel way of bread. Take my advice. My ship sails to-morrow for
Amsterdam; what if you go in her as a passenger? The moment you land,
all you have to do is to teach the Dutchmen English, and I warrant
you'll get pupils and money enough. I suppose you understand English,'
added he, 'by this time, or the deuce is in it. '

[Illustration:

"_Whenever I approached a peasant's house
towards nightfall, I played one of my most
merry tunes, and this procured me not only
a lodging, but subsistence for the next day. _"—_p. _ 99.
]

I confidently assured him of that; but expressed a doubt whether the
Dutch would be willing to learn English. He affirmed, with an oath, that
they were fond of it to distraction; and upon that affirmation I agreed
with his proposal, and embarked with him the next day to teach the Dutch
English in Holland. The wind was fair, our voyage short; and, after
having paid my passage with half my moveables, I found myself, as fallen
from the skies, a stranger in one of the principal streets of Amsterdam.
In this situation I was unwilling to let any time pass unemployed in
teaching. I addressed myself, therefore, to two or three of those I met,
whose appearance seemed most promising; but it was impossible to make
ourselves mutually understood. It was not till this very moment I
recollected that, in order to teach Dutchmen English, it was necessary
that they should first teach me Dutch. How I came to overlook so obvious
an objection is to me amazing; but certain it is I overlooked it.

"This scheme thus blown up, I had some thoughts of fairly shipping back
to England again; but falling into company with an Irish student who was
returning from Louvain, our conversation turning upon topics of
literature (for by the way, it may be observed, that I always forgot the
meanness of my circumstances when I could converse on such subjects),
from him I learned that there were not two men in his whole university
who understood Greek. This amazed me: I instantly resolved to travel to
Louvain, and there live by teaching Greek; and in this design I was
heartened by my brother-student, who threw out some hints that a fortune
might be got by it.

"I set boldly forward the next morning. Every day lessened the burthen
of my moveables, like Æsop and his basket of bread; for I paid them for
my lodgings to the Dutch as I travelled on. When I came to Louvain, I
was resolved not to go sneaking to the lower professors, but openly
tendered my talents to the principal himself. I went, had admittance,
and offered him my service as a master of the Greek language, which I
had been told was a desideratum in his university. The principal seemed,
at first, to doubt of my abilities; but of these I offered to convince
him, by turning a part of any Greek author he should fix upon into
Latin. Finding me perfectly earnest in my proposal, he addressed me
thus: 'You see me, young man: I never learned Greek, and I don't find
that I have ever missed it. I have had a doctor's cap and gown without
Greek; I have ten thousand florins a-year without Greek; I eat heartily
without Greek; and, in short,' continued he, 'as I don't know Greek, I
do not believe there is any good in it. '

"I was now too far from home to think of returning, so I resolved to go
forward. I had some knowledge of music, with a tolerable voice; I now
turned what was once my amusement into a present means of subsistence. I
passed among the harmless peasants of Flanders, and among such of the
French as were poor enough to be very merry; for I ever found them
sprightly in proportion to their wants. Whenever I approached a
peasant's house towards nightfall, I played one of my most merry tunes,
and that procured me not only a lodging, but subsistence for the next
day. I once or twice attempted to play for people of fashion; but they
always thought my performance odious, and never rewarded me even with a
trifle. This was to me the more extraordinary, as whenever I used in
better days to play for company, when playing was my amusement, my music
never failed to throw them into raptures, and the ladies especially;
but, as it was now my only means, it was received with contempt: a proof
how ready the world is to underrate those talents by which a man is
supported.

"In this manner I proceeded to Paris, with no design but just to look
about me, and then to go forward. The people of Paris are much fonder of
strangers that have money than of those that have wit. As I could not
boast much of either, I was no great favourite. After walking about the
town four or five days, and seeing the outsides of the best houses, I
was preparing to leave this retreat of venal hospitality; when, passing
through one of the principal streets, whom should I meet but our cousin,
to whom you first recommended me! This meeting was very agreeable to me,
and I believe not displeasing to him. He inquired into the nature of my
journey to Paris, and informed me of his own business there, which was
to collect pictures, medals, intaglios, and antiques of all kinds, for a
gentleman in London, who had just stepped into taste and a large
fortune. I was the more surprised at seeing our cousin pitched upon for
this office, as he himself had often assured me he knew nothing of the
matter. Upon asking how he had been taught the art of a _cognoscento_ so
very suddenly, he assured me that nothing was more easy. The whole
secret consisted in a strict adherence to two rules: the one, always to
observe that the picture might have been better if the painter had taken
more pains; and the other, to praise the works of Pietro Perugino.
'But,' says he, 'as I once taught you how to be an author in London,
I'll now undertake to instruct you in the art of picture-buying in
Paris. '

"With this proposal I very readily closed, as it was a living; and now
all my ambition was to live. I went therefore to his lodgings, improved
my dress by his assistance; and, after some time, accompanied him to
auctions of pictures, where the English gentry were expected to be
purchasers. I was not a little surprised at his intimacy with people of
the best fashion, who referred themselves to his judgment upon every
picture or medal, as to an unerring standard of taste. He made very good
use of my assistance upon these occasions; for when asked his opinion,
he would gravely take me aside and ask mine, shrug, look wise, return,
and assure the company that he could give no opinion upon an affair of
so much importance. Yet there was sometimes an occasion for a more
supported assurance. I remember to have seen him, after giving his
opinion that the colouring of a picture was not mellow enough, very
deliberately take a brush with brown varnish that was accidentally lying
by, and rub it over the piece with great composure before all the
company, and then ask if he had not improved the tints.

"When he had finished his commission in Paris, he left me strongly
recommended to several men of distinction, as a person very proper for a
travelling tutor; and, after some time, I was employed in that capacity
by a gentleman who brought his ward to Paris in order to set him forward
on his tour through Europe. I was to be the young gentleman's governor,
but with a proviso that he should always be permitted to govern himself.
My pupil, in fact, understood the art of guiding in money concerns much
better than I. He was heir to a fortune of about two hundred thousand
pounds, left him by an uncle in the West Indies; and his guardians, to
qualify him for the management of it, had bound him apprentice to an
attorney. Thus avarice was his prevailing passion: all his questions on
the road were, how much money might be saved; which was the least
expensive course of travelling; whether anything could be bought that
would turn to account when disposed of again in London. Such curiosities
on the way as could be seen for nothing he was ready enough to look at;
but if the sight of them was to be paid for, he usually asserted that he
had been told they were not worth seeing. He never paid a bill that he
would not observe how amazingly expensive travelling was! And all this
though he was not yet twenty-one. When arrived at Leghorn, as we took a
walk to look at the port and shipping, he inquired the expense of the
passage by sea home to England. This he was informed was but a trifle
compared to his returning by land: he was therefore unable to withstand
the temptation; so, paying me the small part of my salary that was due,
he took leave, and embarked with only one attendant for London.

"I now therefore was left once more upon the world at large; but then it
was a thing I was used to. However, my skill in music could avail me
nothing in a country where every peasant was a better musician than I;
but by this time I had acquired another talent which answered my purpose
as well, and this was a skill in disputation. In all the foreign
universities and convents there are, upon certain days, philosophical
theses maintained against every adventitious disputant; for which, if
the champion opposes with any dexterity, he can claim a gratuity in
money, a dinner, and a bed for one night. In this manner, therefore, I
fought my way towards England; walked along from city to city; examined
mankind more nearly; and, if I may so express it, saw both sides of the
picture. My remarks, however, are but few; I found that monarchy was the
best government for the poor to live in, and commonwealths for the rich.
I found that riches in general were in every country another name for
freedom; and that no man is so fond of liberty himself as not to be
desirous of subjecting the will of some individuals in society to his
own.

[Illustration:

"_Walked along from city to city. _"—_p. _ 101.
]

"Upon my arrival in England, I resolved to pay my respects first to you,
and then to enlist as a volunteer in the first expedition that was going
forward; but on my journey down my resolutions were changed by meeting
an old acquaintance, who I found belonged to a company of comedians that
were going to make a summer campaign in the country. The company seemed
not much to disapprove of me for an associate. They all, however,
apprised me of the importance of the task at which I aimed; that the
public was a many-headed monster, and that only such as had very good
heads could please it; that acting was not to be learnt in a day; and
that without some traditional shrugs, which had been on the stage, and
only on the stage, these hundred years, I could never pretend to please.
The next difficulty was in fitting me with parts, as almost every
character was in keeping. I was driven for some time from one character
to another, till at last Horatio was fixed upon, which the presence of
the present company has happily hindered me from acting. "




_CHAPTER XXI. _

_The short continuance of friendship among the vicious,
which is coeval only with mutual satisfaction. _


My son's account was too long to be delivered at once; the first part of
it was begun that night, and he was concluding the rest after dinner the
next day, when the appearance of Mr. Thornhill's equipage at the door
seemed to make a pause in the general satisfaction. The butler, who was
now become my friend in the family, informed me in a whisper that the
squire had already made some overtures to Miss Wilmot, and that her aunt
and uncle seemed highly to approve the match. Upon Mr. Thornhill's
entering, he seemed, at seeing my son and me, to start back: but I
readily imputed that to surprise, and not displeasure. However, upon our
advancing to salute him, he returned our greeting with the most apparent
candour; and after a short time his presence served only to increase the
general good humour.

After tea, he called me aside to inquire after my daughter; but upon my
informing him that my inquiry was unsuccessful, he seemed greatly
surprised, adding that he had since been frequently at my house in order
to comfort the rest of my family, whom he left perfectly well. He then
asked if I had communicated her misfortune to Miss Wilmot or my son; and
upon my replying that I had not told them as yet, he greatly approved my
prudence and precaution, desiring me by all means to keep it a secret.
"For at best," cried he, "it is but divulging one's own infamy; and
perhaps Miss Livy may not be so guilty as we all imagine. " We were here
interrupted by a servant, who came to ask the squire in, to stand up at
country-dances, so that he left me quite pleased with the interest he
seemed to take in my concerns. His addresses, however, to Miss Wilmot,
were too obvious to be mistaken; and yet she seemed not perfectly
pleased, but bore them rather in compliance to the will of her aunt than
from real inclination. I had even the satisfaction to see her lavish
some kind looks upon my unfortunate son, which the other could neither
extort by his fortune nor assiduity. Mr. Thornhill's seeming composure,
however, not a little surprised me. We had now continued here a week, at
the pressing instances of Mr. Arnold; but each day, the more tenderness
Miss Wilmot showed my son, Mr. Thornhill's friendship seemed
proportionably to increase for him.

He had formerly made us the most kind assurances of using his interest
to serve the family; but now his generosity was not confined to promises
alone. The morning I designed for my departure Mr. Thornhill came to me
with looks of real pleasure, to inform me of a piece of service he had
done for his friend George. This was nothing less than his having
procured him an ensign's commission in one of the regiments that were
going to the West Indies, for which he had promised but one hundred
pounds, his interest having been sufficient to get an abatement of the
other two. "As for this trifling piece of service," continued the young
gentleman, "I desire no other reward but the pleasure of having served
my friend; and as for the hundred pounds to be paid, if you are unable
to raise it yourselves, I will advance it, and you shall repay me at
your leisure. " This was a favour we wanted words to express our sense
of; I readily, therefore, gave my bond for the money, and testified as
much gratitude as if I never intended to pay.

George was to depart for town the next day to secure his commission, in
pursuance of his generous patron's directions, who judged it highly
expedient to use despatch, lest in the meantime another should step in
with more advantageous proposals. The next morning, therefore, our young
soldier was early prepared for his departure, and seemed the only person
among us that was not affected by it. Neither the fatigues and dangers
he was going to encounter, nor the friends and mistress (for Miss Wilmot
actually loved him) he was leaving behind, any way damped his spirits.
After he had taken leave of the rest of the company, I gave him all that
I had—my blessing. "And now, my boy," cried I, "thou art going to fight
for thy country, remember how thy brave grandfather fought for his
sacred king, when loyalty among Britons was a virtue. Go, my boy, and
imitate him in all but his misfortunes—if it was a misfortune to die
with Lord Falkland. Go, my boy, and if you fall, though distant,
exposed, and unwept by those that love you, the most precious tears are
those with which Heaven bedews the unburied head of a soldier. "

The next morning I took leave of the good family that had been kind
enough to entertain me so long, not without several expressions of
gratitude to Mr. Thornhill for his late bounty. I left them in the
enjoyment of all that happiness which affluence and good breeding
procure, and returned towards home, despairing of ever finding my
daughter more, but sending a sigh to Heaven to spare and to forgive her.
I was now come within about twenty miles of home, having hired a horse
to carry me, as I was yet but weak, and comforted myself with the hopes
of soon seeing all I held dearest upon earth. But the night coming on, I
put up at a little public-house by the road-side, and asked for the
landlord's company over a pint of wine. We sat beside his kitchen fire,
which was the best room in the house, and chatted on politics and the
news of the country. We happened, among other topics, to talk of young
Squire Thornhill, who, the host assured me, was hated as much as his
uncle, Sir William, who sometimes came down to the country, was loved.
He went on to observe that he made it his whole study to betray the
daughters of such as received him to their houses, and after a fortnight
or three weeks' possession turned them out unrewarded and abandoned to
the world. As we continued our discourse in this manner, his wife, who
had been out to get change, returned, and perceiving that her husband
was enjoying a pleasure in which she was not a sharer, she asked him in
an angry tone what he did there, to which he only replied in an ironical
way by drinking her health. "Mr. Symonds," cried she, "you use me very
ill, and I'll bear it no longer. Here three parts of the business is
left for me to do, and the fourth left unfinished, while you do nothing
but soak with the guests all day long; whereas, if a spoonful of liquor
were to cure me of a fever, I never touch a drop. " I now found what she
would be at, and immediately poured her out a glass, which she received
with a courtesy, and drinking towards my good health.

[Illustration:

"_Out, I say; pack out this moment_! "—_p. _ 106.
]


"Sir," resumed she, "it is not so much for the value of the liquor I am
angry, but one cannot help it when the house is going out of the
windows. If the customers or guests are to be dunned, all the burden
lies upon my back: he'd as leave eat that glass as budge after them
himself. There, now, above stairs we have a young woman who has come to
take up her lodgings here, and I don't believe she has got any money, by
her over-civility. I am certain she is very slow of payment, and I wish
she were put in mind of it. " "What signifies minding her? " cried the
host; "if she be slow she's sure. " "I don't know that," replied the
wife, "but I know that I am sure she has been here a fortnight, and we
have not yet seen the cross of her money. " "I suppose, my dear," cried
he, "we shall have it all in a lump. " "In a lump! " cried the other, "I
hope we may get it any way; and that I am resolved we will this very
night, or out she tramps, bag and baggage. " "Consider, my dear," cried
the husband, "she is a gentlewoman, and deserves more respect. " "As for
the matter of that," returned the hostess, "gentle or simple, out she
shall pack with a sassarara. Gentry may be good things where they take;
but for my part, I never saw much good of them at the sign of the
Harrow. " Thus saying, she ran up a narrow flight of stairs that went
from the kitchen to a room overhead, and I soon perceived by the
loudness of her voice, and the bitterness of her reproaches, that no
money was to be had from her lodger. I could hear her remonstrances very
distinctly. "Out, I say; pack out this moment! tramp, thou infamous
strumpet, or I'll give thee a mark thou won't be the better for these
three months. What! you trumpery, to come and take up an honest house
without cross or coin to bless yourself with! Come along, I say. " "Oh,
dear madam," cried the stranger, "pity me, pity a poor abandoned
creature for one night, and death will soon do the rest. " I instantly
knew the voice of my poor ruined child Olivia. I flew to her rescue,
while the woman was dragging her along by the hair, and I caught the
dear forlorn wretch in my arms. "Welcome, any way welcome, my dearest
lost one, my treasure, to your poor old father's bosom! Though the
vicious forsake thee, there is yet one in the world that will never
forsake thee; though thou hadst ten thousand crimes to answer for, he
will forgive them all. " "Oh, my own dear"—for minutes she could say no
more—"my own dearest, good papa! Could angels be kinder? How do I
deserve so much? The villain, I hate him and myself, to be a reproach to
so much goodness. You can't forgive me—I know you cannot. " "Yes, my
child, from my heart I do forgive thee: only repent, and we both shall
yet be happy. We shall see many pleasant days yet, my Olivia. " "Ah!
never, sir, never! The rest of my wretched life must be infamy abroad,
and shame at home. But alas! papa, you look much paler than you used to
do. Could such a thing as I am give you so much uneasiness? surely you
have too much wisdom to take the miseries of my guilt upon yourself! "
"Our wisdom, young woman—" replied I. "Ah! why so cold a name, papa? "
cried she, "this is the first time you ever called me by so cold a
name. " "I ask pardon, my darling," returned I; "but I was going to
observe, that wisdom makes but a slow defence against trouble, though at
last a sure one. "

The landlady now returned to know if we did not choose a more genteel
apartment; to which assenting, we were shown to a room where we could
converse more freely. After we had talked ourselves into some
tranquillity, I could not avoid desiring some account of the gradations
that led to her present wretched situation. "That villain, sir," said
she, "from the first day of our meeting, made me honourable though
private proposals. "

"Villain, indeed! " cried I; "and yet it in some measure surprises me how
a person of Mr. Burchell's good sense and seeming honour could be guilty
of such deliberate baseness, and thus step into a family to undo it. "

"My dear papa," returned my daughter, "you labour under a strange
mistake. Mr. Burchell never attempted to deceive me. Instead of that, he
took every opportunity of privately admonishing me against the artifices
of Mr. Thornhill, who, I now find, was even worse than he represented
him. " "Mr. Thornhill! " interrupted I, "can it be? " "Yes, sir," returned
she, "it was Mr. Thornhill who seduced me; who employed the two ladies,
as he called them, but who in fact were abandoned women of the town
without breeding or pity, to decoy us up to London. Their artifices, you
may remember, would certainly have succeeded, but for Mr. Burchell's
letter, who directed those reproaches at them which we all applied to
ourselves. How he came to have so much influence as to defeat their
intentions, still remains a secret to me; but I am convinced he was ever
our warmest, sincerest friend. "

"You amaze me, my dear," cried I; "but now I find my first suspicions of
Mr. Thornhill's baseness were too well grounded: but he can triumph in
security; for he is rich and we are poor.
But tell me, my child; sure it
was no small temptation that could thus obliterate all the impressions
of such an education and so virtuous a disposition as thine? "

"Indeed, sir," replied she, "he owes all his triumph to the desire I had
of making him, and not myself, happy. I knew that the ceremony of our
marriage, which was privately performed by a popish priest, was no way
binding, and that I had nothing to trust to but his honour. " "What! "
interrupted I, "and were you indeed married by a priest, and in orders? "
"Indeed, sir, we were," replied she, "though we were both sworn to
conceal his name. " "Why then, my child, come to my arms again; and now
you are a thousand times more welcome than before; for you are his wife
to all intents and purposes; nor can all the laws of man, though written
upon tables of adamant, lessen the force of that sacred connexion. "

"Alas! papa," replied she, "you are but little acquainted with his
villainies; he has been married already, by the same priest, to six or
eight wives more, whom, like me, he has deceived and abandoned. "

"Has he so? " cried I, "then we must hang the priest, and you shall
inform against him to-morrow. " "But, sir," returned she, "will that be
right, when I am sworn to secresy? " "My dear," I replied, "if you have
made such a promise, I cannot, nor will I tempt you to break it. Even
though it may benefit the public, you must not inform against him. In
all human institutions, a smaller evil is allowed to procure a greater
good: as, in politics, a province may be given away to secure a kingdom;
in medicine, a limb may be lopped off to preserve the body. But in
religion the law is written and inflexible, _never_ to do evil. And,
this law, my child, is right; for otherwise, if we commit a smaller evil
to procure a greater good, certain guilt would be thus incurred in
expectation of contingent advantage. And though the advantage should
certainly follow, yet the interval between commission and advantage,
which is allowed to be guilty, may be that in which we are called away
to answer for the things we have done, and the volume of human actions
is closed for ever. But I interrupt you, my dear: go on. "

"The very next morning," continued she, "I found what little
expectations I was to have from his sincerity. That very morning he
introduced me to two unhappy women more, whom, like me, he had deceived,
but who lived in contented prostitution. I loved him too tenderly to
bear such rivals in his affections, and strove to forget my infamy in a
tumult of pleasures. With this view, I danced, dressed, and talked, but
still was unhappy. The gentlemen who visited there told me every moment
of the power of my charms, and this only contributed to increase my
melancholy, as I had thrown all their power quite away. Thus each day I
grew more pensive and he more insolent, till at last the monster had the
assurance to offer me to a young baronet of his acquaintance. Need I
describe, sir, how this ingratitude stung me? My answer to this proposal
was almost madness. I desired to part. As I was going, he offered me a
purse; but I flung it at him with indignation, and burst from him in a
rage that for a while kept me insensible of the miseries of my
situation. But I soon looked round me, and saw myself a vile, abject,
guilty thing, without one friend in the world to apply to. Just in that
interval a stage-coach happening to pass by, I took a place, it being my
only aim to be driven to a distance from a wretch I despised and
detested. I was set down here; where, since my arrival, my own anxiety,
and this woman's unkindness, have been my only companions. The hours of
pleasure that I have passed with my mamma and sister now grow painful to
me. Their sorrows are much; but mine are greater than theirs; for mine
are mixed with guilt and infamy. "

[Illustration:

_"My dear papa," returned my daughter,
"you labour under a strange mistake.
Mr. Burchell never attempted to deceive me. "_—_p. _ 107.
]

"Have patience, my child," cried I, "and I hope things will yet be
better. Take some repose to-night, and to-morrow I'll carry you home to
your mother and the rest of the family, from whom you will receive a
kind reception. Poor woman! this has gone to her heart; but she loves
you still, Olivia, and will forget it. "




_CHAPTER XXII. _

_Offences are easily pardoned where there is love at bottom. _


The next morning I took my daughter behind me, and set out on my return
home. As we travelled along, I strove by every persuasion to calm her
sorrows and fears, and to arm her with resolution to bear the presence
of her offended mother. I took every opportunity, from the prospect of a
fine country through which we passed, to observe how much kinder Heaven
was to us than we to each other; and that the misfortunes of nature's
making were but very few. I assured her that she should never perceive
any change in my affections, and that during my life, which yet might be
long, she might depend upon a guardian and an instructor. I armed her
against the censures of the world, showed her that books were sweet
unreproaching companions to the miserable, and that, if they could not
bring us to enjoy life, they would at least teach us to endure it.

The hired horse that we rode was to be put up that night at an inn by
the way, within about five miles from my house; and as I was willing to
prepare my family for my daughter's reception, I determined to leave her
that night at the inn, and to return for her, accompanied by my daughter
Sophia, early the next morning. It was night before we reached our
appointed stage; however, after seeing her provided with a decent
apartment, and having ordered the hostess to prepare proper
refreshments, I kissed her, and proceeded towards home. And now my heart
caught new sensations of pleasure, the nearer I approached that peaceful
mansion. As a bird that had been frightened from its nest, my affections
outwent my haste, and hovered round my little fireside with all the
rapture of expectation. I called up the many fond things I had to say,
and anticipated the welcome I was to receive. I already felt my wife's
tender embrace, and smiled at the joy of my little ones. As I walked but
slowly, the night waned apace; the labourers of the day were all retired
to rest; the lights were out in every cottage; no sounds were heard but
of the shrilling cock and the deep-mouthed watch-dog, at hollow
distance. I approached my little abode of pleasure, and, before I was
within a furlong of the place, our honest mastiff came running to
welcome me.

It was now near midnight that I came to knock at my door: all was still
and silent—my heart dilated with unutterable happiness: when to my
amazement, I saw the house bursting out into a blaze of fire, and every
aperture red with conflagration! I gave a loud convulsive outcry, and
fell upon the pavement insensible. This alarmed my son, who had till
this been asleep, and he, perceiving the flames, instantly awakened my
wife and daughter, and all running out, naked and wild with
apprehension, recalled me to life with their anguish. But it was only to
objects of new terror, for the flames had by this time caught the roof
of our dwelling, part after part continuing to fall in, while the family
stood with silent agony looking on as if they enjoyed the blaze. I gazed
upon them and upon it by turns, and then looked round me for my two
little ones; but they were not to be seen. "O misery! where," cried I,
"where are my little ones? " "They are burnt to death in the flames,"
said my wife, calmly, "and I will die with them. " That moment I heard
the cry of the babes within, who were just awakened by the fire, and
nothing could have stopped me. "Where, where are my children? " cried I,
rushing through the flames, and bursting the door of the chamber in
which they were confined; "where are my little ones? " "Here, dear papa,
here we are! " cried they together, while the flames were just catching
the bed where they lay. I caught them both in my arms, and conveyed them
through the fire as fast as possible, while, just as I was going out,
the roof sunk in. "Now," cried I, holding up my children, "now let the
flames burn on, and all my possessions perish; here they are—I have
saved my treasure: here, my dearest, here are our treasures, and we
shall yet be happy. " We kissed our little darlings a thousand times;
they clasped us round the neck, and seemed to share our transports,
while their mother laughed and wept by turns.

I now stood a calm spectator of the flames, and after some time began to
perceive that my arm to the shoulder was scorched in a terrible manner.
It was, therefore, out of my power to give my son any assistance, either
in attempting to save our goods, or preventing the flames spreading to
our corn. By this time the neighbours were alarmed, and came running to
our assistance; but all they could do was to stand, like us, spectators
of the calamity. My goods, among which were the notes I had reserved for
my daughters' fortunes, were entirely consumed, except a box with some
papers that stood in the kitchen, and two or three things more of little
consequence, which my son brought away in the beginning. The neighbours
contributed, however, what they could to lighten our distress. They
brought us clothes, and furnished one of our outhouses with kitchen
utensils; so that by daylight we had another, though a wretched,
dwelling to retire to. My honest next neighbour and his children were
not the least assiduous in providing us with everything necessary, and
offering whatever consolation untutored benevolence could suggest.

When the fears of my family had subsided, curiosity to know the cause of
my long stay began to take place; having, therefore, informed them of
every particular, I proceeded to prepare them for the reception of our
lost one; and, though we had nothing but wretchedness now to impart, I
was willing to procure her a welcome to what we had. This task would
have been more difficult but for our own recent calamity, which had
humbled my wife's pride, and blunted it by more poignant afflictions.
Being unable to go for my poor child myself, as my arm grew very
painful, I sent my son and daughter, who soon returned, supporting the
wretched delinquent, who had not the courage to look up at her mother,
whom no instructions of mine could persuade to a perfect reconciliation;
for women have a much stronger sense of female error than men. "Ah,
madam! " cried her mother, "this is but a poor place you are come to
after so much finery. My daughter Sophy and I can afford but little
entertainment to persons who have kept company only with people of
distinction: yes, Miss Livy, your poor father and I have suffered very
much of late; but I hope Heaven will forgive you. " During this
reception, the unhappy victim stood pale and trembling, unable to weep
or to reply; but I could not continue a silent spectator of her
distress; wherefore, assuming a degree of severity in my voice and
manner, which was ever followed with instant submission, "I entreat,
woman, that my words may be now marked once for all: I have here brought
you back a poor deluded wanderer—her return to duty demands the revival
of our tenderness. The real hardships of life are now coming fast upon
us; let us not, therefore, increase them by dissensions among each
other: if we live harmoniously together, we may yet be contented, as
there are enough of us to shut out the censuring world, and keep each
other in countenance. The kindness of Heaven is promised to the
penitent, and let ours be directed by the example. Heaven, we are
assured, is much more pleased to view a repentant sinner than
ninety-nine persons who have supported a course of undeviating
rectitude: and this is right; for that single effort by which we stop
short in the down-hill path to perdition, is of itself a greater
exertion of virtue than a hundred acts of justice. "

[Illustration:

_"Ah, madam" cried her mother,
"this is but a poor place you are
come to after so much finery. "_—_p. _ 112.
]




_CHAPTER XXIII. _

_None but the guilty can be long and completely miserable. _


Some assiduity was now required to make our present abode as convenient
as possible, and we were soon again qualified to enjoy our former
serenity. Being disabled myself from assisting my son in our usual
occupations, I read to my family from the few books that were saved, and
particularly from such as, by amusing the imagination, contributed to
ease the heart. Our good neighbours, too, came every day with the
kindest condolence, and fixed a time in which they were all to assist in
repairing my former dwelling. Honest Farmer Williams was not last among
these visitors, but heartily offered his friendship. He would even have
renewed his addresses to my daughter; but she rejected them in such a
manner as totally repressed his future solicitations. Her grief seemed
formed for continuing, and she was the only person in our little society
that a week did not restore to cheerfulness. She now lost that
unblushing innocence which once taught her to respect herself, and to
seek pleasure by pleasing. Anxiety had now taken strong possession of
her mind; her beauty began to be impaired with her constitution, and
neglect still more contributed to diminish it. Every tender epithet
bestowed on her sister brought a pang to her heart and a tear to her
eye; and as one vice, though cured, ever plants others where it has
been, so her former guilt, though driven out by repentance, left
jealousy and envy behind. I strove a thousand ways to lessen her care,
and even forgot my own pain in a concern for hers, collecting such
amusing passages of history as a strong memory and some reading could
suggest. "Our happiness, my dear," I would say, "is in the power of One
who can bring it about by a thousand unforeseen ways that mock our
foresight. If example be necessary to prove this, I'll give you a story,
my child, told us by a grave, though sometimes a romancing, historian.

"Matilda was married very young to a Neapolitan nobleman of the first
quality, and found herself a widow and a mother at the age of fifteen.
As she stood one day caressing her infant son in the open window of an
apartment which hung over the river Volturna, the child, with a sudden
spring, leaped from her arms into the flood below, and disappeared in a
moment. The mother, struck with instant surprise, and making an effort
to save him, plunged in after; but, far from being able to assist the
infant, she herself with great difficulty escaped to the opposite shore,
just when some French soldiers were plundering the country on that side,
who immediately made her their prisoner.

"As the war was then carried on between the French and Italians with the
utmost inhumanity, they were going at once to perpetrate those two
extremes suggested by appetite and cruelty. This base resolution,
however, was opposed by a young officer, who, though their retreat
required the utmost expedition, placed her behind him, and brought her
in safety to his native city. Her beauty at first caught his eye: her
merit, soon after, his heart. They were married; he rose to the highest
posts; they lived long together, and were happy. But the felicity of a
soldier can never be called permanent: after an interval of several
years, the troops which he commanded having met with a repulse, he was
obliged to take shelter in the city where he had lived with his wife.
Here they suffered a siege, and the city at length was taken. Few
histories can produce more various instances of cruelty than those which
the French and Italians at that time exercised upon each other. It was
resolved by the victors, upon this occasion, to put all the French
prisoners to death; but particularly the husband of the unfortunate
Matilda, as he was principally instrumental in protracting the siege.
Their determinations were, in general, executed almost as soon as
resolved upon. The captive soldier was led forth, and the executioner
with his sword stood ready, while the spectators, in gloomy silence,
awaited the fatal blow, which was only suspended till the general, who
presided as judge, should give the signal. It was in this interval of
anguish and expectation that Matilda came to take the last farewell of
her husband and deliverer, deploring her wretched situation, and the
cruelty of fate that had saved her from perishing by a premature death
in the river Volturna, to be the spectator of still greater calamities.
The general, who was a young man, was struck with surprise at her beauty
and pity at her distress; but with still stronger emotions when he heard
her mention her former dangers. He was her son, the infant for whom she
had encountered so much danger; he acknowledged her at once as his
mother, and fell at her feet. The rest may be easily supposed; the
captive was set free, and all the happiness that love, friendship, and
duty could confer on earth, were united. "

In this manner I would attempt to amuse my daughter; but she listened
with divided attention; for her own misfortunes engrossed all the pity
she once had for those of another, and nothing gave her ease. In company
she dreaded contempt; and in solitude she only found anxiety. Such was
the colour of her wretchedness, when we received certain information
that Mr. Thornhill was going to be married to Miss Wilmot; for whom I
always suspected he had a real passion, though he took every opportunity
before me to express his contempt both of her person and fortune. This
news served only to increase poor Olivia's affliction; for such a
flagrant breach of fidelity was more than her courage could support. I
was resolved, however, to get more certain information; and to defeat,
if possible, the completion of his designs, by sending my son to old Mr.
Wilmot's, with instructions to know the truth of the report, and to
deliver Miss Wilmot a letter intimating Mr. Thornhill's conduct in my
family. My son went, in pursuance of my directions, and in three days
returned, assuring us of the truth of the account; but that he had found
it impossible to deliver the letter, which he was therefore obliged to
leave, as Mr. Thornhill and Miss Wilmot were visiting round the country.
They were to be married, he said, in a few days, having appeared
together at church, the Sunday before he was there, in great splendour,
the bride attended by six young ladies, and he by as many gentlemen.
Their approaching nuptials filled the whole country with rejoicing, and
they usually rode out together in the grandest equipage that had been
seen in the country for many years. All the friends of both families, he
said, were there, particularly the squire's uncle, Sir William
Thornhill, who bore so good a character. He added, that nothing but
mirth and feasting were going forward; that all the country praised the
young bride's beauty and the bridegroom's fine person, and that they
were immensely fond of each other; concluding that he could not help
thinking Mr. Thornhill one of the most happy men in the world.

"Why, let him if he can," returned I; "but, my son, observe this bed of
straw and unsheltering roof; those mouldering walls and humid floor; my
wretched body thus disabled by fire, and my children weeping round me
for bread: you have come home, my child, to all this; yet here, even
here, you see a man that would not for a thousand worlds exchange
situations. Oh, my children, if you could but learn to commune with your
own hearts, and know what noble company you can make them, you would
little regard the elegance and splendour of the worthless. Almost all
men have been taught to call life a passage, and themselves the
travellers. The similitude still may be improved, when we observe that
the good are joyful and serene, like travellers that are going towards
home; the wicked but by intervals happy, like travellers that are going
into exile. "

My compassion for my poor daughter, overpowered by this new disaster,
interrupted what I had further to observe. I bade her mother support
her, and after a short time she recovered. She appeared from that time
more calm, and I imagined had gained a new degree of resolution; but
appearances deceived me; for her tranquillity was the languor of
overwrought resentment. A supply of provisions, charitably sent us by my
kind parishioners, seemed to diffuse new cheerfulness among the rest of
my family, nor was I displeased at seeing them once more sprightly and
at ease. It would have been unjust to damp their satisfaction, merely to
condole with resolute melancholy, or to burden them with a sadness they
did not feel. Thus, once more, the tale went round, and a song was
demanded, and cheerfulness condescended to hover round our little
habitation.

[Illustration:

_"Go," cried I, "thou art a wretch; a poor,
pitiful wretch, and every way a liar. "_—_p. _ 118.
]




_CHAPTER XXIV. _

_Fresh calamities. _


The next morning the sun arose with peculiar warmth for the season, so
that we agreed to breakfast together on the honeysuckle bank; where,
while we sat, my youngest daughter, at my request, joined her voice to
the concert on the trees about us. It was in this place my poor Olivia
first met her seducer, and every object served to recall her sadness.
But that melancholy which is excited by objects of pleasure, or inspired
by sounds of harmony, soothes the heart instead of corroding it. Her
mother, too, upon this occasion felt a pleasing distress, and wept, and
loved her daughter as before. "Do, my pretty Olivia," cried she, "let us
have that little melancholy air your papa was so fond of; your sister
Sophy has already obliged us. Do, child; it will please your old
father. " She complied in a manner so exquisitely pathetic, as moved me.

When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds, too late, that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy?
What art can wash her guilt away?

The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom, is—to die.

As she was concluding the last stanza, to which an interruption in her
voice, from sorrow, gave peculiar softness, the appearance of Mr.
Thornhill's equipage at a distance alarmed us all, but particularly
increased the uneasiness of my eldest daughter, who, desirous of
shunning her betrayer, returned to the house with her sister. In a few
minutes he was alighted from his chariot, and, making up to the place
where I was still sitting, inquired after my health with his usual air
of familiarity. "Sir," replied I, "your present assurance only serves to
aggravate the baseness of your character; and there was a time when I
would have chastised your insolence for presuming thus to appear before
me. But now you are safe; for age has cooled my passions, and my calling
restrains them. "

"I vow, my dear sir," returned he, "I am amazed at all this; nor can I
understand what it means! I hope you do not think your daughter's late
excursion with me had anything criminal in it. "

"Go," cried I, "thou art a wretch, a poor pitiful wretch, and every way
a liar; but your meanness secures you from my anger. Yet, sir, I am
descended from a family that would not have borne this! And so, thou
vile thing! to gratify a momentary passion thou hast made one poor
creature wretched for life, and polluted a family that had nothing but
honour for their portion. "

"If she, or you," returned he, "are resolved to be miserable, I cannot
help it. But you may still be happy; and whatever opinion you may have
formed of me, you shall ever find me ready to contribute to it. We can
marry her to another in a short time; and, what is more, she may keep
her lover beside; for I protest I shall ever continue to have a true
regard for her. "

I found all my passions alarmed at this new degrading proposal; for
though the mind may often be calm under great injuries, little villainy
can at any time get within the soul, and sting it into rage. "Avoid my
sight, thou reptile! " cried I, "nor continue to insult me with thy
presence. Were my brave son at home, he would not suffer this; but I am
old and disabled, and every way undone. "

"I find," cried he, "you are bent upon obliging me to talk in a harsher
manner than I intended. But, as I have shown you what may be hoped from
my friendship, it may not be improper to represent what may be the
consequences of my resentment. My attorney, to whom your late bond has
been transferred, threatens hard; nor do I know how to prevent the
course of justice, except by paying the money myself; which as I have
been at some expenses lately, previous to my intended marriage, is not
so easy to be done. And then my steward talks of driving for the rent:
it is certain he knows his duty; for I never trouble myself with affairs
of that nature. Yet still I could wish to serve you, and even to have
you and your daughter present at my marriage, which is shortly to be
solemnised, with Miss Wilmot; it is even the request of my charming
Arabella herself, whom I hope you will not refuse. "

"Mr. Thornhill," replied I, "hear me once for all: as to your marriage
with any but my daughter, that I never will consent to; and though your
friendship could raise me to a throne, or your resentment sink me to the
grave, yet would I despise both. Thou hast once woefully, irreparably
deceived me. I reposed my heart upon thine honour, and have found it
baseness. Never more, therefore, expect friendship from me. Go, and
possess what fortune has given thee—beauty, riches, health, and
pleasure. Go, and leave me to want, infamy, disease, and sorrow. Yet,
humbled as I am, shall my heart still vindicate its dignity; and though
thou hast my forgiveness, thou shalt ever have my contempt. "

"If so," returned he, "depend upon it you shall feel the effects of this
insolence, and we shall shortly see which is the fittest object of
scorn, you or me. " Upon which he departed abruptly.

My wife and son, who were present at this interview, seemed terrified
with apprehension. My daughters also, finding that he was gone, came out
to be informed of the result of our conference; which, when known,
alarmed them not less than the rest. But as to myself, I disregarded the
utmost stretch of his malevolence—he had already struck the blow, and I
now stood prepared to repel every new effort, like one of those
instruments used in the act of war, which, however thrown, still present
a point to receive the enemy.