No More Learning

When we were shewn a room, I
desired the landlord, in my usual way, to let us have his company,
with which he complied, as what he drank would encrease the bill next
morning. He knew, however, the whole neighbourhood to which I was
removing, particularly ‘Squire Thornhill, who was to be my landlord, and
who lived within a few miles of the place. This gentleman he described
as one who desired to know little more of the world than its pleasures,
being particularly remarkable for his attachment to the fair sex. He
observed that no virtue was able to resist his arts and assiduity, and
that scarce a farmer’s daughter within ten miles round but what had
found him successful and faithless. Though this account gave me some
pain, it had a very different effect upon my daughters, whose features
seemed to brighten with the expectation of an approaching triumph, nor
was my wife less pleased and confident of their allurements and virtue.
While our thoughts were thus employed, the hostess entered the room to
inform her husband, that the strange gentleman, who had been two days in
the house, wanted money, and could not satisfy them for his reckoning.
‘Want money! ’ replied the host, ‘that must be impossible; for it was no
later than yesterday he paid three guineas to our beadle to spare an
old broken soldier that was to be whipped through the town for
dog-stealing. ’ The hostess, however, still persisting in her first
assertion, he was preparing to leave the room, swearing that he would be
satisfied one way or another, when I begged the landlord would introduce
me to a stranger of so much charity as he described. With this he
complied, shewing in a gentleman who seemed to be about thirty, drest in
cloaths that once were laced. His person was well formed, and his face
marked with the lines of thinking. He had something short and dry in his
address, and seemed not to understand ceremony, or to despise it. Upon
the landlord’s leaving the room, I could not avoid expressing my concern
to the stranger at seeing a gentleman in such circumstances, and offered
him my purse to satisfy the present demand. ‘I take it with all my
heart, Sir,’ replied he, ‘and am glad that a late oversight in giving
what money I had about me, has shewn me that there are still some men
like you. I must, however, previously entreat being informed of the
name and residence of my benefactor, in order to repay him as soon as
possible. ’ In this I satisfied him fully, not only mentioning my name
and late misfortunes, but the place to which I was going to remove.
‘This,’ cried he, ‘happens still more luckily than I hoped for, as I
am going the same way myself, having been detained here two days by the
floods, which, I hope, by to-morrow will be found passable. ’ I testified
the pleasure I should have in his company, and my wife and daughters
joining in entreaty, he was prevailed upon to stay supper. The
stranger’s conversation, which was at once pleasing and instructive,
induced me to wish for a continuance of it; but it was now high time to
retire and take refreshment against the fatigues of the following day.

The next morning we all set forward together: my family on horseback,
while Mr Burchell, our new companion, walked along the foot-path by
the road-side, observing, with a smile, that as we were ill mounted, he
would be too generous to attempt leaving us behind. As the floods
were not yet subsided, we were obliged to hire a guide, who trotted
on before, Mr Burchell and I bringing up the rear. We lightened the
fatigues of the road with philosophical disputes, which he seemed to
understand perfectly. But what surprised me most was, that though he was
a money-borrower, he defended his opinions with as much obstinacy as
if he had been my patron. He now and then also informed me to whom the
different seats belonged that lay in our view as we travelled the road.
‘That,’ cried he, pointing to a very magnificent house which stood at
some distance, ‘belongs to Mr Thornhill, a young gentleman who enjoys a
large fortune, though entirely dependent on the will of his uncle,
Sir William Thornhill, a gentleman, who content with a little himself,
permits his nephew to enjoy the rest, and chiefly resides in town. ’
‘What! ’ cried I, ‘is my young landlord then the nephew of a man whose
virtues, generosity, and singularities are so universally known? I have
heard Sir William Thornhill represented as one of the most generous,
yet whimsical, men in the kingdom; a man of consumate
benevolence’--‘Something, perhaps, too much so,’ replied Mr Burchell,
‘at least he carried benevolence to an excess when young; for his
passions were then strong, and as they all were upon the side of virtue,
they led it up to a romantic extreme. He early began to aim at the
qualifications of the soldier and scholar; was soon distinguished in
the army and had some reputation among men of learning. Adulation
ever follows the ambitious; for such alone receive most pleasure from
flattery. He was surrounded with crowds, who shewed him only one side of
their character; so that he began to lose a regard for private interest
in universal sympathy. He loved all mankind; for fortune prevented him
from knowing that there were rascals. Physicians tell us of a disorder
in which the whole body is so exquisitely sensible, that the slightest
touch gives pain: what some have thus suffered in their persons, this
gentleman felt in his mind. The slightest distress, whether real or
fictitious, touched him to the quick, and his soul laboured under a
sickly sensibility of the miseries of others. Thus disposed to relieve,
it will be easily conjectured, he found numbers disposed to solicit: his
profusions began to impair his fortune, but not his good-nature; that,
indeed, was seen to encrease as the other seemed to decay: he grew
improvident as he grew poor; and though he talked like a man of sense,
his actions were those of a fool. Still, however, being surrounded with
importunity, and no longer able to satisfy every request that was made
him, instead of money he gave promises. They were all he had to bestow,
and he had not resolution enough to give any man pain by a denial.
By this he drew round him crowds of dependants, whom he was sure to
disappoint; yet wished to relieve. These hung upon him for a time, and
left him with merited reproaches and contempt. But in proportion as he
became contemptable to others, he became despicable to himself. His mind
had leaned upon their adulation, and that support taken away, he could
find no pleasure in the applause of his heart, which he had never
learnt to reverence. The world now began to wear a different aspect;
the flattery of his friends began to dwindle into simple approbation.
Approbation soon took the more friendly form of advice, and advice when
rejected produced their reproaches. He now, therefore found that such
friends as benefits had gathered round him, were little estimable: he
now found that a man’s own heart must be ever given to gain that of
another. I now found, that--that--I forget what I was going to observe:
in short, sir, he resolved to respect himself, and laid down a plan of
restoring his falling fortune. For this purpose, in his own whimsical
manner he travelled through Europe on foot, and now, though he has
scarce attained the age of thirty, his circumstances are more affluent
than ever. At present, his bounties are more rational and moderate than
before; but still he preserves the character of an humourist, and finds
most pleasure in eccentric virtues. ’

My attention was so much taken up by Mr Burchell’s account, that I
scarce looked forward as we went along, til we were alarmed by the cries
of my family, when turning, I perceived my youngest daughter in the
midst of a rapid stream, thrown from her horse, and struggling with the
torrent. She had sunk twice, nor was it in my power to disengage myself
in time to bring her relief. My sensations were even too violent to
permit my attempting her rescue: she must have certainly perished had
not my companion, perceiving her danger, instantly plunged in to her
relief, and with some difficulty, brought her in safety to the opposite
shore. By taking the current a little farther up, the rest of the
family got safely over; where we had an opportunity of joining our
acknowledgments to her’s. Her gratitude may be more readily imagined
than described: she thanked her deliverer more with looks than words,
and continued to lean upon his arm, as if still willing to receive
assistance. My wife also hoped one day to have the pleasure of returning
his kindness at her own house. Thus, after we were refreshed at the next
inn, and had dined together, as Mr Burchell was going to a different
part of the country, he took leave; and we pursued our journey. My wife
observing as we went, that she liked him extremely, and protesting, that
if he had birth and fortune to entitle him to match into such a family
as our’s, she knew no man she would sooner fix upon. I could not but
smile to hear her talk in this lofty strain: but I was never much
displeased with those harmless delusions that tend to make us more
happy.



CHAPTER 4

A proof that even the humblest fortune may grant happiness,
which depends not on circumstance, but constitution


The place of our retreat was in a little neighbourhood, consisting
of farmers, who tilled their own grounds, and were equal strangers to
opulence and poverty. As they had almost all the conveniencies of life
within themselves, they seldom visited towns or cities in search of
superfluity. Remote from the polite, they still retained the primaeval
simplicity of manners, and frugal by habit, they scarce knew that
temperance was a virtue. They wrought with cheerfulness on days of
labour; but observed festivals as intervals of idleness and pleasure.
They kept up the Christmas carol, sent true love-knots on Valentine
morning, eat pancakes on Shrove-tide, shewed their wit on the first of
April, and religiously cracked nuts on Michaelmas eve. Being apprized of
our approach, the whole neighbourhood came out to meet their minister,
drest in their finest cloaths, and preceded by a pipe and tabor: A feast
also was provided for our reception, at which we sat cheerfully down;
and what the conversation wanted in wit, was made up in laughter.

Our little habitation was situated at the foot of a sloping hill,
sheltered with a beautiful underwood behind, and a pratling river
before; on one side a meadow, on the other a green. My farm consisted of
about twenty acres of excellent land, having given an hundred pound
for my predecessor’s good-will. Nothing could exceed the neatness of my
little enclosures: the elms and hedge rows appearing with inexpressible
beauty. My house consisted of but one story, and was covered with
thatch, which gave it an air of great snugness; the walls on the inside
were nicely white-washed, and my daughters undertook to adorn them with
pictures of their own designing. Though the same room served us for
parlour and kitchen, that only made it the warmer. Besides, as it was
kept with the utmost neatness, the dishes, plates, and coppers, being
well scoured, and all disposed in bright rows on the shelves, the eye
was agreeably relieved, and did not want richer furniture. There were
three other apartments, one for my wife and me, another for our two
daughters, within our own, and the third, with two beds, for the rest of
the children.

The little republic to which I gave laws, was regulated in the following
manner: by sun-rise we all assembled in our common appartment; the fire
being previously kindled by the servant. After we had saluted each
other with proper ceremony, for I always thought fit to keep up some
mechanical forms of good breeding, without which freedom ever destroys
friendship, we all bent in gratitude to that Being who gave us another
day. This duty being performed, my son and I went to pursue our usual
industry abroad, while my wife and daughters employed themselves in
providing breakfast, which was always ready at a certain time. I allowed
half an hour for this meal, and an hour for dinner; which time was taken
up in innocent mirth between my wife and daughters, and in philosophical
arguments between my son and me.

As we rose with the sun, so we never pursued our labours after it was
gone down, but returned home to the expecting family; where smiling
looks, a treat hearth, and pleasant fire, were prepared for our
reception. Nor were we without guests: sometimes farmer Flamborough, our
talkative neighbour, and often the blind piper, would pay us a visit,
and taste our gooseberry wine; for the making of which we had lost
neither the receipt nor the reputation. These harmless people had
several ways of being good company, while one played, the other would
sing some soothing ballad, Johnny Armstrong’s last good night, or the
cruelty of Barbara Allen. The night was concluded in the manner we began
the morning, my youngest boys being appointed to read the lessons of
the day, and he that read loudest, distinctest, and best, was to have an
half-penny on Sunday to put in the poor’s box.

When Sunday came, it was indeed a day of finery, which all my sumptuary
edicts could not restrain. How well so ever I fancied my lectures
against pride had conquered the vanity of my daughters; yet I still
found them secretly attached to all their former finery: they still
loved laces, ribbands, bugles and catgut; my wife herself retained a
passion for her crimson paduasoy, because I formerly happened to say it
became her.

The first Sunday in particular their behaviour served to mortify me: I
had desired my girls the preceding night to be drest early the next day;
for I always loved to be at church a good while before the rest of the
congregation. They punctually obeyed my directions; but when we were to
assemble in the morning at breakfast, down came my wife and daughters,
drest out in all their former splendour: their hair plaistered up with
pomatum, their faces patched to taste, their trains bundled up into an
heap behind, and rustling at every motion. I could not help smiling at
their vanity, particularly that of my wife, from whom I expected more
discretion. In this exigence, therefore, my only resource was to order
my son, with an important air, to call our coach. The girls were
amazed at the command; but I repeated it with more solemnity than
before. --‘Surely, my dear, you jest,’ cried my wife, ‘we can walk it
perfectly well: we want no coach to carry us now. ’ ‘You mistake, child,’
returned I, ‘we do want a coach; for if we walk to church in this trim,
the very children in the parish will hoot after us. ’--‘Indeed,’ replied
my wife, ‘I always imagined that my Charles was fond of seeing his
children neat and handsome about him. ’--‘You may be as neat as you
please,’ interrupted I, ‘and I shall love you the better for it, but all
this is not neatness, but frippery. These rufflings, and pinkings,
and patchings, will only make us hated by all the wives of all our
neighbours. No, my children,’ continued I, more gravely, ‘those gowns
may be altered into something of a plainer cut; for finery is very
unbecoming in us, who want the means of decency. I do not know whether
such flouncing and shredding is becoming even in the rich, if we
consider, upon a moderate calculation, that the nakedness of the
indigent world may be cloathed from the trimmings of the vain. ’

This remonstrance had the proper effect; they went with great composure,
that very instant, to change their dress; and the next day I had the
satisfaction of finding my daughters, at their own request employed in
cutting up their trains into Sunday waistcoats for Dick and Bill, the
two little ones, and what was still more satisfactory, the gowns seemed
improved by this curtailing.



CHAPTER 5

A new and great acquaintance introduced. What we place most
hopes upon, generally proves most fatal


At a small distance from the house my predecessor had made a seat,
overshaded by an hedge of hawthorn and honeysuckle. Here, when the
weather was fine, and our labour soon finished, we usually sate
together, to enjoy an extensive landscape, in the calm of the evening.
Here too we drank tea, which now was become an occasional banquet; and
as we had it but seldom, it diffused a new joy, the preparations for
it being made with no small share of bustle and ceremony. On these
occasions, our two little ones always read for us, and they were
regularly served after we had done. Sometimes, to give a variety to our
amusements, the girls sung to the guitar; and while they thus formed a
little concert, my wife and I would stroll down the sloping field, that
was embellished with blue bells and centaury, talk of our children with
rapture, and enjoy the breeze that wafted both health and harmony.

In this manner we began to find that every situation in life might bring
its own peculiar pleasures: every morning waked us to a repetition of
toil; but the evening repaid it with vacant hilarity.

It was about the beginning of autumn, on a holiday, for I kept such as
intervals of relaxation from labour, that I had drawn out my family to
our usual place of amusement, and our young musicians began their usual
concert. As we were thus engaged, we saw a stag bound nimbly by, within
about twenty paces of where we were sitting, and by its panting, it
seemed prest by the hunters. We had not much time to reflect upon the
poor animal’s distress, when we perceived the dogs and horsemen come
sweeping along at some distance behind, and making the very path it
had taken. I was instantly for returning in with my family; but either
curiosity or surprize, or some more hidden motive, held my wife and
daughters to their seats. The huntsman, who rode foremost, past us with
great swiftness, followed by four or five persons more, who seemed in
equal haste. At last, a young gentleman of a more genteel appearance
than the rest, came forward, and for a while regarding us, instead of
pursuing the chace, stopt short, and giving his horse to a servant who
attended, approached us with a careless superior air. He seemed to want
no introduction, but was going to salute my daughters as one certain
of a kind reception; but they had early learnt the lesson of looking
presumption out of countenance. Upon which he let us know that his name
was Thornhill, and that he was owner of the estate that lay for some
extent round us. He again, therefore, offered to salute the female part
of the family, and such was the power of fortune and fine cloaths, that
he found no second repulse. As his address, though confident, was easy,
we soon became more familiar; and perceiving musical instruments lying
near, he begged to be favoured with a song. As I did not approve of such
disproportioned acquaintances, I winked upon my daughters in order to
prevent their compliance; but my hint was counteracted by one from their
mother; so that with a chearful air they gave us, a favourite song of
Dryden’s. Mr Thornhill seemed highly delighted with their performance
and choice, and then took up the guitar himself. He played but very
indifferently; however, my eldest daughter repaid his former applause
with interest, and assured him that his tones were louder than even
those of her master. At this compliment he bowed, which she
returned with a curtesy. He praised her taste, and she commended his
understanding: an age could not have made them better acquainted.
While the fond mother too, equally happy, insisted upon her landlord’s
stepping in, and tasting a glass of her gooseberry. The whole family
seemed earnest to please him: my girls attempted to entertain him with
topics they thought most modern, while Moses, on the contrary, gave him
a question or two from the ancients, for which he had the satisfaction
of being laughed at: my little ones were no less busy, and fondly stuck
close to the stranger. All my endeavours could scarce keep their dirty
fingers from handling and tarnishing the lace on his cloaths, and
lifting up the flaps of his pocket holes, to see what was there. At
the approach of evening he took leave; but not till he had requested
permission to renew his visit, which, as he was our landlord, we most
readily agreed to.

As soon as he was gone, my wife called a council on the conduct of the
day. She was of opinion, that it was a most fortunate hit; for that she
had known even stranger things at last brought to bear. She hoped again
to see the day in which we might hold up our heads with the best of
them; and concluded, she protested she could see no reason why the two
Miss Wrinklers should marry great fortunes, and her children get none.
As this last argument was directed to me, I protested I could see no
reason for it neither, nor why Mr Simpkins got the ten thousand pound
prize in the lottery, and we sate down with a blank. ‘I protest,
Charles,’ cried my wife, ‘this is the way you always damp my girls and
me when we are in Spirits. Tell me, Sophy, my dear, what do you think
of our new visitor? Don’t you think he seemed to be
good-natured? ’--‘Immensely so, indeed, Mamma,’ replied she. ‘I think he
has a great deal to say upon every thing, and is never at a loss; and
the more trifling the subject, the more he has to say. ’--‘Yes,’ cried
Olivia, ‘he is well enough for a man; but for my part, I don’t much like
him, he is so extremely impudent and familiar; but on the guitar he is
shocking. ’ These two last speeches I interpreted by contraries. I found
by this, that Sophia internally despised, as much as Olivia secretly
admired him. --‘Whatever may be your opinions of him, my children,’
cried I, ‘to confess a truth, he has not prepossest me in his favour.
Disproportioned friendships ever terminate in disgust; and I thought,
notwithstanding all his ease, that he seemed perfectly sensible of the
distance between us. Let us keep to companions of our own rank. There is
no character more contemptible than a man that is a fortune-hunter, and
I can see no reason why fortune-hunting women should not be contemptible
too. Thus, at best, we shall be contemptible if his views be honourable;
but if they be otherwise! I should shudder but to think of that! It
is true I have no apprehensions from the conduct of my children, but I
think there are some from his character. ’--I would have proceeded,
but for the interruption of a servant from the ‘Squire, who, with his
compliments, sent us a side of venison, and a promise to dine with us
some days after. This well-timed present pleaded more powerfully in his
favour, than any thing I had to say could obviate. I therefore continued
silent, satisfied with just having pointed out danger, and leaving it to
their own discretion to avoid it. That virtue which requires to be ever
guarded, is scarce worth the centinel.



CHAPTER 6

The happiness of a country fire-side


As we carried on the former dispute with some degree of warmth, in order
to accommodate matters, it was universally agreed, that we should have
a part of the venison for supper, and the girls undertook the task with
alacrity. ‘I am sorry,’ cried I, ‘that we have no neighbour or stranger
to take a part in this good cheer: feasts of this kind acquire a double
relish from hospitality. ’--‘Bless me,’ cried my wife, ‘here comes our
good friend Mr Burchell, that saved our Sophia, and that run you down
fairly in the argument’--‘Confute me in argument, child! ’ cried I. ‘You
mistake there, my dear. I believe there are but few that can do that:
I never dispute your abilities at making a goose-pye, and I beg you’ll
leave argument to me. ’--As I spoke, poor Mr Burchell entered the house,
and was welcomed by the family, who shook him heartily by the hand,
while little Dick officiously reached him a chair.

I was pleased with the poor man’s friendship for two reasons; because I
knew that he wanted mine, and I knew him to be friendly as far as he
was able. He was known in our neighbourhood by the character of the poor
Gentleman that would do no good when he was young, though he was not yet
thirty. He would at intervals talk with great good sense; but in general
he was fondest of the company of children, whom he used to call harmless
little men. He was famous, I found, for singing them ballads, and
telling them stories; and seldom went out without something in his
pockets for them, a piece of gingerbread, or an halfpenny whistle. He
generally came for a few days into our neighbourhood once a year, and
lived upon the neighbours hospitality. He sate down to supper among us,
and my wife was not sparing of her gooseberry wine. The tale went round;
he sung us old songs, and gave the children the story of the Buck
of Beverland, with the history of Patient Grissel, the adventures of
Catskin, and then Fair Rosamond’s bower. Our cock, which always crew at
eleven, now told us it was time for repose; but an unforeseen difficulty
started about lodging the stranger: all our beds were already taken up,
and it was too late to send him to the next alehouse. In this dilemma,
little Dick offered him his part of the bed, if his brother Moses would
let him lie with him; ‘And I,’ cried Bill, ‘will give Mr Burchell
my part, if my sisters will take me to theirs. ’--‘Well done, my good
children,’ cried I, ‘hospitality is one of the first Christian duties.
The beast retires to its shelter, and the bird flies to its nest; but
helpless man can only find refuge from his fellow creature. The greatest
stranger in this world, was he that came to save it. He never had an
house, as if willing to see what hospitality was left remaining amongst
us. Deborah, my dear,’ cried I, to my wife, ‘give those boys a lump of
sugar each, and let Dick’s be the largest, because he spoke first. ’

In the morning early I called out my whole family to help at saving
an after-growth of hay, and, our guest offering his assistance, he was
accepted among the number. Our labours went on lightly, we turned
the swath to the wind, I went foremost, and the rest followed in due
succession. I could not avoid, however, observing the assiduity of Mr
Burchell in assisting my daughter Sophia in her part of the task. When
he had finished his own, he would join in her’s, and enter into a close
conversation: but I had too good an opinion of Sophia’s understanding,
and was too well convinced of her ambition, to be under any uneasiness
from a man of broken fortune. When we were finished for the day, Mr
Burchell was invited as on the night before; but he refused, as he was
to lie that night at a neighbour’s, to whose child he was carrying a
whistle. When gone, our conversation at supper turned upon our late
unfortunate guest. ‘What a strong instance,’ said I, ‘is that poor man
of the miseries attending a youth of levity and extravagance. He by no
means wants sense, which only serves to aggravate his former folly. Poor
forlorn creature, where are now the revellers, the flatterers, that
he could once inspire and command! Gone, perhaps, to attend the bagnio
pander, grown rich by his extravagance. They once praised him, and
now they applaud the pander: their former raptures at his wit, are now
converted into sarcasms at his folly: he is poor, and perhaps deserves
poverty; for he has neither the ambition to be independent, nor the
skill to be useful. ’ Prompted, perhaps, by some secret reasons, I
delivered this observation with too much acrimony, which my Sophia
gently reproved. ‘Whatsoever his former conduct may be, pappa, his
circumstances should exempt him from censure now. His present indigence
is a sufficient punishment for former folly; and I have heard my pappa
himself say, that we should never strike our unnecessary blow at a
victim over whom providence holds the scourge of its resentment. ’--‘You
are right, Sophy,’ cried my son Moses, ‘and one of the ancients finely
represents so malicious a conduct, by the attempts of a rustic to flay
Marsyas, whose skin, the fable tells us, had been wholly stript off by
another. ’ Besides, I don’t know if this poor man’s situation be so bad
as my father would represent it. We are not to judge of the feelings
of others by what we might feel if in their place. However dark the
habitation of the mole to our eyes, yet the animal itself finds the
apartment sufficiently lightsome. And to confess a truth, this man’s
mind seems fitted to his station; for I never heard any one more
sprightly than he was to-day, when he conversed with you. ’--This was
said without the least design, however it excited a blush, which she
strove to cover by an affected laugh, assuring him, that she scarce took
any notice of what he said to her; but that she believed he might once
have been a very fine gentleman. The readiness with which she undertook
to vindicate herself, and her blushing, were symptoms I did not
internally approve; but I represt my suspicions.

As we expected our landlord the next day, my wife went to make the
venison pasty; Moses sate reading, while I taught the little ones: my
daughters seemed equally busy with the rest; and I observed them for
a good while cooking something over the fire. I at first supposed they
were assisting their mother; but little Dick informed me in a whisper,
that they were making a wash for the face. Washes of all kinds I had a
natural antipathy to; for I knew that instead of mending the complexion
they spoiled it. I therefore approached my chair by sly degrees to the
fire, and grasping the poker, as if it wanted mending, seemingly by
accident, overturned the whole composition, and it was too late to begin
another.



CHAPTER 7

A town wit described. The dullest fellows may learn to be
comical for a night or two


When the morning arrived on which we were to entertain our young
landlord, it may be easily supposed what provisions were exhausted
to make an appearance. It may also be conjectured that my wife and
daughters expanded their gayest plumage upon this occasion. Mr Thornhill
came with a couple of friends, his chaplain, and feeder. The servants,
who were numerous, he politely ordered to the next ale-house: but my
wife, in the triumph of her heart, insisted on entertaining them all;
for which, by the bye, our family was pinched for three weeks after.
As Mr Burchell had hinted to us the day before, that he was making some
proposals of marriage, to Miss Wilmot, my son George’s former mistress,
this a good deal damped the heartiness of his reception: but accident,
in some measure, relieved our embarrasment; for one of the company
happening to mention her name, Mr Thornhill observed with an oath, that
he never knew any thing more absurd than calling such a fright a beauty:
‘For strike me ugly,’ continued he, ‘if I should not find as much
pleasure in choosing my mistress by the information of a lamp under the
clock at St Dunstan’s. ’ At this he laughed, and so did we:--the jests
of the rich are ever successful. Olivia too could not avoid whispering,
loud enough to be heard, that he had an infinite fund of humour. After
dinner, I began with my usual toast, the Church; for this I was thanked
by the chaplain, as he said the church was the only mistress of his
affections. --‘Come tell us honestly, Frank,’ said the ‘Squire, with his
usual archness, ‘suppose the church, your present mistress, drest in
lawnsleeves, on one hand, and Miss Sophia, with no lawn about her, on
the other, which would you be for? ’ ‘For both, to be sure,’ cried
the chaplain. --‘Right Frank,’ cried the ‘Squire; ‘for may this glass
suffocate me but a fine girl is worth all the priestcraft in the
creation. For what are tythes and tricks but an imposition, all a
confounded imposture, and I can prove it.
’--‘I wish you would,’ cried my
son Moses, ‘and I think,’ continued he, ‘that I should be able to answer
you. ’--‘Very well, Sir,’ cried the ‘Squire, who immediately smoaked
him,’ and winking on the rest of the company, to prepare us for the
sport, if you are for a cool argument upon that subject, I am ready
to accept the challenge. And first, whether are you for managing it
analogically, or dialogically? ’ ‘I am for managing it rationally,’ cried
Moses, quite happy at being permitted to dispute. ‘Good again,’ cried
the ‘Squire, ‘and firstly, of the first. I hope you’ll not deny
that whatever is is. If you don’t grant me that, I can go no
further. ’--‘Why,’ returned Moses, ‘I think I may grant that, and make
the best of it. ’--‘I hope too,’ returned the other, ‘you’ll grant that
a part is less than the whole. ’ ‘I grant that too,’ cried Moses, ‘it is
but just and reasonable. ’--‘I hope,’ cried the ‘Squire, ‘you will
not deny, that the two angles of a triangle are equal to two right
ones. ’--‘Nothing can be plainer,’ returned t’other, and looked round
with his usual importance. --‘Very well,’ cried the ‘Squire, speaking
very quick, ‘the premises being thus settled, I proceed to observe,
that the concatenation of self existences, proceeding in a reciprocal
duplicate ratio, naturally produce a problematical dialogism, which in
some measure proves that the essence of spirituality may be referred to
the second predicable’--‘Hold, hold,’ cried the other, ‘I deny that:
Do you think I can thus tamely submit to such heterodox
doctrines? ’--‘What,’ replied the ‘Squire, as if in a passion, ‘not
submit! Answer me one plain question: Do you think Aristotle right
when he says, that relatives are related? ’ ‘Undoubtedly,’ replied the
other. --‘If so then,’ cried the ‘Squire, ‘answer me directly to what I
propose: Whether do you judge the analytical investigation of the first
part of my enthymem deficient secundum quoad, or quoad minus, and give
me your reasons: give me your reasons, I say, directly. ’--‘I protest,’
cried Moses, ‘I don’t rightly comprehend the force of your reasoning;
but if it be reduced to one simple proposition, I fancy it may then have
an answer. ’--‘O sir,’ cried the ‘Squire, ‘I am your most humble servant,
I find you want me to furnish you with argument and intellects too. No,
sir, there I protest you are too hard for me. ’ This effectually raised
the laugh against poor Moses, who sate the only dismal figure in a
groupe of merry faces: nor, did he offer a single syllable more during
the whole entertainment.

But though all this gave me no pleasure, it had a very different effect
upon Olivia, who mistook it for humour, though but a mere act of the
memory. She thought him therefore a very fine gentleman; and such as
consider what powerful ingredients a good figure, fine cloaths, and
fortune, are in that character, will easily forgive her. Mr Thornhill,
notwithstanding his real ignorance, talked with ease, and could
expatiate upon the common topics of conversation with fluency. It is not
surprising then that such talents should win the affections of a girl,
who by education was taught to value an appearance in herself, and
consequently to set a value upon it in another.

Upon his departure, we again entered into a debate upon the merits of
our young landlord. As he directed his looks and conversation to Olivia,
it was no longer doubted but that she was the object that induced him to
be our visitor. Nor did she seem to be much displeased at the innocent
raillery of her brother and sister upon this occasion. Even Deborah
herself seemed to share the glory of the day, and exulted in her
daughter’s victory as if it were her own. ‘And now, my dear,’ cried
she to me, ‘I’ll fairly own, that it was I that instructed my girls to
encourage our landlord’s addresses. I had always some ambition, and
you now see that I was right; for who knows how this may end? ’ ‘Ay, who
knows that indeed,’ answered I, with a groan: ‘for my part I don’t much
like it; and I could have been better pleased with one that was poor and
honest, than this fine gentleman with his fortune and infidelity; for
depend on’t, if he be what I suspect him, no free-thinker shall ever
have a child of mine. ’ ‘Sure, father,’ cried Moses, ‘you are too severe
in this; for heaven will never arraign him for what he thinks, but for
what he does. Every man has a thousand vicious thoughts, which arise
without his power to suppress. Thinking freely of religion, may be
involuntary with this gentleman: so that allowing his sentiments to be
wrong, yet as he is purely passive in his assent, he is no more to be
blamed for his errors than the governor of a city without walls for the
shelter he is obliged to afford an invading enemy. ’

‘True, my son,’ cried I; ‘but if the governor invites the enemy, there
he is justly culpable. And such is always the case with those who
embrace error. The vice does not lie in assenting to the proofs they
see; but in being blind to many of the proofs that offer. So that,
though our erroneous opinions be involuntary when formed, yet as we have
been wilfully corrupt, or very negligent in forming them, we deserve
punishment for our vice, or contempt for our folly. ’ My wife now kept
up the conversation, though not the argument: she observed, that several
very prudent men of our acquaintance were free-thinkers, and made very
good husbands; and she knew some sensible girls that had skill enough to
make converts of their spouses: ‘And who knows, my dear,’ continued she,
‘what Olivia may be able to do. The girl has a great deal to say upon
every subject, and to my knowledge is very well skilled in controversy. ’

‘Why, my dear, what controversy can she have read? ’ cried I. ‘It does
not occur to me that I ever put such books into her hands: you certainly
over-rate her merit. ’ ‘Indeed, pappa,’ replied Olivia, ‘she does not: I
have read a great deal of controversy. I have read the disputes between
Thwackum and Square; the controversy between Robinson Crusoe and
Friday the savage, and I am now employed in reading the controversy in
Religious courtship’--‘Very well,’ cried I, ‘that’s a good girl, I find
you are perfectly qualified for making converts, and so go help your
mother to make the gooseberry-pye. ’



CHAPTER 8

An amour, which promises little good fortune, yet may be
productive of much


The next morning we were again visited by Mr Burchell, though I began,
for certain reasons, to be displeased with the frequency of his return;
but I could not refuse him my company and fire-side. It is true his
labour more than requited his entertainment; for he wrought among us
with vigour, and either in the meadow or at the hay-rick put himself
foremost. Besides, he had always something amusing to say that lessened
our toil, and was at once so out of the way, and yet so sensible, that
I loved, laughed at, and pitied him. My only dislike arose from an
attachment he discovered to my daughter: he would, in a jesting manner,
call her his little mistress, and when he bought each of the girls a
set of ribbands, hers was the finest. I knew not how, but he every day
seemed to become more amiable, his wit to improve, and his simplicity to
assume the superior airs of wisdom.

Our family dined in the field, and we sate, or rather reclined, round a
temperate repast, our cloth spread upon the hay, while Mr Burchell gave
cheerfulness to the feast. To heighten our satisfaction two blackbirds
answered each other from opposite hedges, the familiar redbreast came
and pecked the crumbs from our hands, and every sound seemed but the
echo of tranquillity. ‘I never sit thus,’ says Sophia, ‘but I think of
the two lovers, so sweetly described by Mr Gay, who were struck dead in
each other’s arms. There is something so pathetic in the description,
that I have read it an hundred times with new rapture. ’--‘In my
opinion,’ cried my son, ‘the finest strokes in that description are much
below those in the Acis and Galatea of Ovid. The Roman poet understands
the use of contrast better, and upon that figure artfully managed
all strength in the pathetic depends. ’--‘It is remarkable,’ cried Mr
Burchell, ‘that both the poets you mention have equally contributed to
introduce a false taste into their respective countries, by loading all
their lines with epithet. Men of little genius found them most easily
imitated in their defects, and English poetry, like that in the latter
empire of Rome, is nothing at present but a combination of luxuriant
images, without plot or connexion; a string of epithets that improve the
sound, without carrying on the sense. But perhaps, madam, while I
thus reprehend others, you’ll think it just that I should give them an
opportunity to retaliate, and indeed I have made this remark only to
have an opportunity of introducing to the company a ballad, which,
whatever be its other defects, is I think at least free from those I
have mentioned. ’


A BALLAD.

‘Turn, gentle hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way, To where yon
taper cheers the vale, With hospitable ray.

‘For here forlorn and lost I tread, With fainting steps and slow; Where
wilds immeasurably spread, Seem lengthening as I go. ’

‘Forbear, my son,’ the hermit cries, ‘To tempt the dangerous gloom; For
yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom.

‘Here to the houseless child of want, My door is open still; And tho’ my
portion is but scant, I give it with good will.

‘Then turn to-night, and freely share Whate’er my cell bestows; My rushy
couch, and frugal fare, My blessing and repose.

‘No flocks that range the valley free, To slaughter I condemn: Taught by
that power that pities me, I learn to pity them.

‘But from the mountain’s grassy side, A guiltless feast I bring; A scrip
with herbs and fruits supply’d, And water from the spring.

‘Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego; All earth-born cares are wrong:
Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long. ’

Soft as the dew from heav’n descends, His gentle accents fell: The
modest stranger lowly bends, And follows to the cell.

Far in a wilderness obscure The lonely mansion lay; A refuge to the
neighbouring poor, And strangers led astray.

No stores beneath its humble thatch Requir’d a master’s care; The wicket
opening with a latch, Receiv’d the harmless pair.

And now when busy crowds retire To take their evening rest, The hermit
trimm’d his little fire, And cheer’d his pensive guest:

And spread his vegetable store, And gayly prest, and smil’d; And skill’d
in legendary lore, The lingering hours beguil’d.

Around in sympathetic mirth Its tricks the kitten tries, The cricket
chirrups in the hearth; The crackling faggot flies.

But nothing could a charm impart To sooth the stranger’s woe; For grief
was heavy at his heart, And tears began to flow.

His rising cares the hermit spy’d, With answering care opprest: ‘And
whence, unhappy youth,’ he cry’d, ‘The sorrows of thy breast?

‘From better habitations spurn’d, Reluctant dost thou rove; Or grieve
for friendship unreturn’d, Or unregarded love?

‘Alas! the joys that fortune brings, Are trifling and decay; And those
who prize the paltry things, More trifling still than they.

‘And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep; A shade
that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep?

‘And love is still an emptier sound, The modern fair one’s jest: On
earth unseen, or only found To warm the turtle’s nest.

‘For shame fond youth thy sorrows hush And spurn the sex,’ he said: But
while he spoke a rising blush His love-lorn guest betray’d.

Surpriz’d he sees new beauties rise, Swift mantling to the view; Like
colours o’er the morning skies, As bright, as transient too.

The bashful look, the rising breast, Alternate spread alarms: The lovely
stranger stands confest A maid in all her charms.

‘And, ah, forgive a stranger rude, A wretch forlorn,’ she cry’d; ‘Whose
feet unhallowed thus intrude Where heaven and you reside.

‘But let a maid thy pity share, Whom love has taught to stray; Who seeks
for rest, but finds despair Companion of her way.

‘My father liv’d beside the Tyne, A wealthy Lord was he; And all his
wealth was mark’d as mine, He had but only me.

‘To win me from his tender arms, Unnumber’d suitors came; Who prais’d me
for imputed charms, And felt or feign’d a flame.

‘Each hour a mercenary crowd, With richest proffers strove: Among the
rest young Edwin bow’d, But never talk’d of love.

‘In humble simplest habit clad, No wealth nor power had he; Wisdom and
worth were all he had, But these were all to me.

‘The blossom opening to the day, The dews of heaven refin’d, Could
nought of purity display, To emulate his mind.

‘The dew, the blossom on the tree, With charms inconstant shine; Their
charms were his, but woe to me, Their constancy was mine.

‘For still I try’d each fickle art, Importunate and vain; And while his
passion touch’d my heart, I triumph’d in his pain.

‘Till quite dejected with my scorn, He left me to my pride; And sought a
solitude forlorn, In secret where he died.

‘But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, And well my life shall pay; I’ll
seek the solitude he sought, And stretch me where he lay.

‘And there forlorn despairing hid, I’ll lay me down and die: ‘Twas so
for me that Edwin did, And so for him will I. ’

‘Forbid it heaven! ’ the hermit cry’d, And clasp’d her to his breast: The
wondering fair one turn’d to chide, ‘Twas Edwin’s self that prest.

‘Turn, Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see, Thy own, thy
long-lost Edwin here, Restor’d to love and thee.

‘Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And ev’ry care resign: And shall we
never, never part, My life,--my all that’s mine.

‘No, never, from this hour to part, We’ll live and love so true; The
sigh that tends thy constant heart, Shall break thy Edwin’s too. ’

While this ballad was reading, Sophia seemed to mix an air of tenderness
with her approbation. But our tranquillity was soon disturbed by
the report of a gun just by us, and immediately after a man was seen
bursting through the hedge, to take up the game he had killed. This
sportsman was the ‘Squire’s chaplain, who had shot one of the blackbirds
that so agreeably entertained us. So loud a report, and so near,
startled my daughters; and I could perceive that Sophia in the fright
had thrown herself into Mr Burchell’s arms for protection. The gentleman
came up, and asked pardon for having disturbed us, affirming that he
was ignorant of our being so near. He therefore sate down by my youngest
daughter, and, sportsman like, offered her what he had killed that
morning. She was going to refuse, but a private look from her mother
soon induced her to correct the mistake, and accept his present, though
with some reluctance. My wife, as usual, discovered her pride in a
whisper, observing, that Sophy had made a conquest of the chaplain, as
well as her sister had of the ‘Squire. I suspected, however, with more
probability, that her affections were placed upon a different object.
The chaplain’s errand was to inform us, that Mr Thornhill had provided
music and refreshments, and intended that night giving the young ladies
a ball by moon-light, on the grass-plot before our door. ‘Nor can I
deny,’ continued he, ‘but I have an interest in being first to deliver
this message, as I expect for my reward to be honoured with miss Sophy’s
hand as a partner. ’ To this my girl replied, that she should have no
objection, if she could do it with honour: ‘But here,’ continued she,
‘is a gentleman,’ looking at Mr Burchell, ‘who has been my companion in
the task for the day, and it is fit he should share in its amusements. ’
Mr Burchell returned her a compliment for her intentions; but resigned
her up to the chaplain, adding that he was to go that night five miles,
being invited to an harvest supper. His refusal appeared to me a
little extraordinary, nor could I conceive how so sensible a girl as
my youngest, could thus prefer a man of broken fortunes to one
whose expectations were much greater. But as men are most capable of
distinguishing merit in women, so the ladies often form the truest
judgments of us. The two sexes seem placed as spies upon each other, and
are furnished with different abilities, adapted for mutual inspection.



CHAPTER 9

Two ladies of great distinction introduced. Superior finery
ever seems to confer superior breeding


Mr Burchell had scarce taken leave, and Sophia consented to dance with
the chaplain, when my little ones came running out to tell us that the
‘Squire was come, with a crowd of company. Upon our return, we found our
landlord, with a couple of under gentlemen and two young ladies richly
drest, whom he introduced as women of very great distinction and fashion
from town. We happened not to have chairs enough for the whole company;
but Mr Thornhill immediately proposed that every gentleman should sit in
a lady’s lap. This I positively objected to, notwithstanding a look of
disapprobation from my wife. Moses was therefore dispatched to borrow a
couple of chairs; and as we were in want of ladies to make up a set at
country dances, the two gentlemen went with him in quest of a couple of
partners. Chairs and partners were soon provided. The gentlemen returned
with my neighbour Flamborough’s rosy daughters, flaunting with red
top-knots, but an unlucky circumstance was not adverted to; though the
Miss Flamboroughs were reckoned the very best dancers in the parish,
and understood the jig and the round-about to perfection; yet they were
totally unacquainted with country dances. ’ This at first discomposed us:
however, after a little shoving and dragging, they at last went merrily
on. Our music consisted of two fiddles, with a pipe and tabor. The moon
shone bright, Mr Thornhill and my eldest daughter led up the ball, to
the great delight of the spectators; for the neighbours hearing what was
going forward, came flocking about us. My girl moved with so much grace
and vivacity, that my wife could not avoid discovering the pride of her
heart, by assuring me, that though the little chit did it so cleverly,
all the steps were stolen from herself. The ladies of the town strove
hard to be equally easy, but without success. They swam, sprawled,
languished, and frisked; but all would not do: the gazers indeed owned
that it was fine; but neighbour Flamborough observed, that Miss Livy’s
feet seemed as pat to the music as its echo. After the dance had
continued about an hour, the two ladies, who were apprehensive of
catching cold, moved to break up the ball. One of them, I thought,
expressed her sentiments upon this occasion in a very coarse manner,
when she observed, that by the living jingo, she was all of a muck
of sweat. Upon our return to the house, we found a very elegant cold
supper, which Mr Thornhill had ordered to be brought with him. The
conversation at this time was more reserved than before. The two ladies
threw my girls quite into the shade; for they would talk of nothing but
high life, and high lived company; with other fashionable topics, such
as pictures, taste, Shakespear, and the musical glasses. ‘Tis true they
once or twice mortified us sensibly by slipping out an oath; but that
appeared to me as the surest symptom of their distinction, (tho’ I am
since informed that swearing is perfectly unfashionable. ) Their finery,
however, threw a veil over any grossness in their conversation. My
daughters seemed to regard their superior accomplishments with envy; and
what appeared amiss was ascribed to tip-top quality breeding. But
the condescension of the ladies was still superior to their other
accomplishments. One of them observed, that had miss Olivia seen a
little more of the world, it would greatly improve her. To which the
other added, that a single winter in town would make her little Sophia
quite another thing. My wife warmly assented to both; adding, that there
was nothing she more ardently wished than to give her girls a single
winter’s polishing. To this I could not help replying, that their
breeding was already superior to their fortune; and that greater
refinement would only serve to make their poverty ridiculous, and give
them a taste for pleasures they had no right to possess. --‘And what
pleasures,’ cried Mr Thornhill, ‘do they not deserve to possess, who
have so much in their power to bestow? As for my part,’ continued he,
‘my fortune is pretty large, love, liberty, and pleasure, are my maxims;
but curse me if a settlement of half my estate could give my charming
Olivia pleasure, it should be hers; and the only favour I would ask in
return would be to add myself to the benefit. ’ I was not such a stranger
to the world as to be ignorant that this was the fashionable cant to
disguise the insolence of the basest proposal; but I made an effort
to suppress my resentment. ‘Sir,’ cried I, ‘the family which you now
condescend to favour with your company, has been bred with as nice a
sense of honour as you. Any attempts to injure that, may be attended
with very dangerous consequences. Honour, Sir, is our only possession at
present, and of that last treasure we must be particularly careful. ’--I
was soon sorry for the warmth with which I had spoken this, when the
young gentleman, grasping my hand, swore he commended my spirit, though
he disapproved my suspicions. ‘As to your present hint,’ continued he,
‘I protest nothing was farther from my heart than such a thought. No,
by all that’s tempting, the virtue that will stand a regular siege was
never to my taste; for all my amours are carried by a coup de main. ’

The two ladies, who affected to be ignorant of the rest, seemed highly
displeased with this last stroke of freedom, and began a very discreet
and serious dialogue upon virtue: in this my wife, the chaplain, and I,
soon joined; and the ‘Squire himself was at last brought to confess a
sense of sorrow for his former excesses. We talked of the pleasures of
temperance, and of the sun-shine in the mind unpolluted with guilt. I
was so well pleased, that my little ones were kept up beyond the usual
time to be edified by so much good conversation. Mr Thornhill even went
beyond me, and demanded if I had any objection to giving prayers. I
joyfully embraced the proposal, and in this manner the night was passed
in a most comfortable way, till at last the company began to think of
returning. The ladies seemed very unwilling to part with my daughters;
for whom they had conceived a particular affection, and joined in a
request to have the pleasure of their company home. The ‘Squire seconded
the proposal, and my wife added her entreaties: the girls too looked
upon me as if they wished to go. In this perplexity I made two or three
excuses, which my daughters as readily removed; so that at last I was
obliged to give a peremptory refusal; for which we had nothing but
sullen looks and short answers the whole day ensuing.



CHAPTER 10

The family endeavours to cope with their betters. The
miseries of the poor when they attempt to appear above their
circumstances


I now began to find that all my long and painful lectures upon
temperance, simplicity, and contentment, were entirely disregarded. The
distinctions lately paid us by our betters awaked that pride which I
had laid asleep, but not removed. Our windows again, as formerly, were
filled with washes for the neck and face. The sun was dreaded as an
enemy to the skin without doors, and the fire as a spoiler of the
complexion within. My wife observed, that rising too early would hurt
her daughters’ eyes, that working after dinner would redden their noses,
and she convinced me that the hands never looked so white as when they
did nothing. Instead therefore of finishing George’s shirts, we now had
them new modelling their old gauzes, or flourishing upon catgut. The
poor Miss Flamboroughs, their former gay companions, were cast off as
mean acquaintance, and the whole conversation ran upon high life and
high lived company, with pictures, taste, Shakespear, and the musical
glasses.

But we could have borne all this, had not a fortune-telling gypsey come
to raise us into perfect sublimity. The tawny sybil no sooner appeared,
than my girls came running to me for a shilling a piece to cross her
hand with silver. To say the truth, I was tired of being always wise,
and could not help gratifying their request, because I loved to see them
happy. I gave each of them a shilling; though, for the honour of
the family, it must be observed, that they never went without money
themselves, as my wife always generously let them have a guinea each, to
keep in their pockets; but with strict injunctions never to change it.
After they had been closetted up with the fortune-teller for some time,
I knew by their looks, upon their returning, that they had been promised
something great. --‘Well, my girls, how have you sped? Tell me, Livy, has
the fortune-teller given thee a pennyworth? ’--‘I protest, pappa,’ says
the girl, ‘I believe she deals with some body that’s not right; for she
positively declared, that I am to be married to a ‘Squire in less than a
twelvemonth! ’--‘Well now, Sophy, my child,’ said I, ‘and what sort of a
husband are you to have? ’ ‘Sir,’ replied she, ‘I am to have a Lord soon
after my sister has married the ‘Squire. ’--‘How,’ cried I, ‘is that all
you are to have for your two shillings! Only a Lord and a ‘Squire for
two shillings! You fools, I could have promised you a Prince and a Nabob
for half the money. ’ This curiosity of theirs, however, was attended
with very serious effects: we now began to think ourselves designed
by the stars for something exalted, and already anticipated our future
grandeur. It has been a thousand times observed, and I must observe it
once more, that the hours we pass with happy prospects in view, are more
pleasing than those crowned with fruition. In the first case we cook the
dish to our own appetite; in the latter nature cooks it for us. It is
impossible to repeat the train of agreeable reveries we called up for
our entertainment. We looked upon our fortunes as once more rising;
and as the whole parish asserted that the ‘Squire was in love with my
daughter, she was actually so with him; for they persuaded her into the
passion. In this agreeable interval, my wife had the most lucky dreams
in the world, which she took care to tell us every morning, with great
solemnity and exactness. It was one night a coffin and cross bones,
the sign of an approaching wedding: at another time she imagined her
daughters’ pockets filled with farthings, a certain sign of their being
shortly stuffed with gold. The girls themselves had their omens. They
felt strange kisses on their lips; they saw rings in the candle, purses
bounced from the fire, and true love-knots lurked in the bottom of every
tea-cup.

Towards the end of the week we received a card from the town ladies;
in which, with their compliments, they hoped to see all our family at
church the Sunday following. All Saturday morning I could perceive, in
consequence of this, my wife and daughters in close conference together,
and now and then glancing at me with looks that betrayed a latent plot.
To be sincere, I had strong suspicions that some absurd proposal was
preparing for appearing with splendor the next day. In the evening they
began their operations in a very regular manner, and my wife undertook
to conduct the siege. After tea, when I seemed in spirits, she began
thus. --‘I fancy, Charles, my dear, we shall have a great deal of good
company at our church to-morrow,’--‘Perhaps we may, my dear,’ returned
I; ‘though you need be under no uneasiness about that, you shall have a
sermon whether there be or not. ’--‘That is what I expect,’ returned she;
‘but I think, my dear, we ought to appear there as decently as possible,
for who knows what may happen? ’ ‘Your precautions,’ replied I, ‘are
highly commendable. A decent behaviour and appearance in church is what
charms me. We should be devout and humble, chearful and serene.