Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

of!" He then launched forth into the most bitter invectives both against men and women; accusing the former of having no attachment but to their interest, and the latter of being so addicted to vicious inclinations, that they could never be safely trusted with one of the other sex. "Could I," said he, "sir, have suspected that a lady of such prudence, such judgment, such learning, should indulge so indiscreet a passion; or could I have imagined that my brother-why do I call him so? He is no longer a brother of mine."

"Indeed but he is," said Allworthy, "and a brother of mine too."-" Bless me, sir," said the doctor, "do you know the shocking affair?""Look'ee, Mr Blifil," answered the good man, "it hath been my constant maxim in life, to make the best of all matters which happen. My sister, though many years younger than I, is at least old enough to be at the age of discretion. Had he imposed on a child, I should have been more averse to have forgiven him; but a woman upwards of thirty must certainly be supposed to know what will make her most happy. She hath married a gentleman, though perhaps not quite her equal in fortune; and if he hath any perfections in her eye, which can make up that deficiency, I see no reason why I should object to her choice of her own happiness; which I, no more than herself, imagine to consist only in immense wealth. I might perhaps, from the many declarations I have made of complying with almost any proposal, have expected to have been consulted on this occasion; but these matters are of a very delicate nature, and the scruples of modesty, perhaps, are not to be overcome. As to your brother, I have really no anger against him at all. He hath no obligation to me, nor do I think he was under any necessity of asking my consent, since the woman is, as I have said, sui juris, and of a proper age to be entirely answerable only to herself for her conduct."

The doctor accused Mr Allworthy of too great lenity, repeated his accusations against his brother, and declared that he should never more be brought either to see, or to own him for his relation. He then launched forth into a panegyric on Allworthy's goodness; into the highest encomiums on his friendship; and concluded by saying, he should never forgive his brother for having put the place which he bore in that friendship to a hazard.

Allworthy thus answered: "Had I conceived any displeasure against your brother, I should never have carried that resentment to the innocent; but I assure you I have no such displeasure. Your brother appears to me to be a man of sense and honour. I do not disapprove of the taste of my sister, nor will I doubt but that she is equally the object of his inclinations. I have always thought love the only foundation of happiness in a married state, as it can only produce that high and tender friendship which should

always be the cement of this union; and, in my opinion, all those marriages which are contracted from other motives, are greatly criminal; they are a profanation of a most holy ceremony, and generally end in disquiet and misery; for surely we may call it a profanation, to convert this most sacred institution into a wicked sacrifice to lust or avarice; and what better can be said of those matches to which men are induced merely by the consideration of a beautiful person, or a great fortune!

"To deny that beauty is an agreeable object to the eye, and even worthy some admiration, would be false and foolish. Beautiful is an epithet often used in Scripture, and always mentioned with honour. It was my own fortune to marry a woman whom the world thought handsome; and I can truly say, I liked her the better on that account. But, to make this the sole consideration of marriage, to lust after it so violently as to overlook all imperfections for its sake, or to require it so absolutely as to reject and disdain religion, virtue, and sense, which are qualities, in their nature, of much higher perfection, only because an elegance of person is wanting; this is surely inconsistent, either with a wise man or a good Christian. And it is, perhaps, being too charitable to conclude, that such persons mean any thing more by their marriage, than to please their carnal appetites; for the satisfaction of which, we are taught, it was not ordained.

"In the next place, with respect to fortune. Worldly prudence, perhaps, exacts some consideration on this head; nor will I absolutely and altogether condemn it. As the world is constituted, the demands of a married state, and the care of posterity, require some little regard to what we call circumstances. Yet this provision is greatly increased, beyond what is really necessary, by folly and vanity, which create abundantly more wants than nature. Equipage for the wife, and large fortunes for the children, are by custom enrolled in the list of necessaries; and, to procure these, every thing truly solid and sweet, and virtuous and religious, are neglected and overlooked.

"And this in many degrees; the last and greatest of which seems scarce distinguishable from madness. I mean where persons of immense fortunes contract themselves to those who are, and must be, disagreeable to them; to fools and knaves, in order to increase an estate, already larger even than the demands of their pleasures. Surely such persons, if they will not be thought mad, must own, either that they are incapable of tasting the sweets of the tenderest friendship, or that they sacrifice the greatest happiness of which they are capable, to the vain, uncertain, and senseless laws of vulgar opinion, which owe as well their force, as their foundation, to folly."

Here Allworthy concluded his sermon, to which Blifil had listened with the profoundest

attention, though it cost him some pains to prevent now and then a small discomposure of his muscles. He now praised every period of what he had heard, with the warmth of a young divine, who hath the honour to dine with a bishop the same day in which his lordship hath mounted the pulpit.

CHAP. XIII.

Which concludes the First Book; with an instance of ingratitude, which, we hope, will appear unnatural.

THE reader, from what hath been said, may imagine, that the reconciliation (if indeed it could be so called) was only matter of form; we shall therefore pass it over, and hasten to what must surely be thought matter of substance.

The doctor had acquainted his brother with what had past between Mr Allworthy and him; and added with a smile, "I promise you, I paid you off; nay, I absolutely desired the good gentleman not to forgive you; for you know, after he had made a declaration in your favour, I might with safety venture on such a request with a man of his temper; and I was willing, as well for your sake as for my own, to prevent the least possibility of a suspicion."

Captain Blifil took not the least notice of this at that time; but he afterwards made a very notable use of it.

One of the maxims which the devil, in a late visit upon earth, left to his disciples, is, when once you are got up, to kick the stool from under you. In plain English, when you have made your fortune by the good offices of a friend, you are advised to discard him as soon as you can. Whether the captain acted by this maxim, I will not positively determine; so far we may confidently say, that his actions may be fairly derived from this diabolical principle; and indeed it is difficult to assign any other motive to them for no sooner was he possessed of Miss Bridget, and reconciled to Allworthy, than he began to shew a coldness to his brother, which increased daily, till at length it grew into rudeness, and became very visible to every one.

The doctor remonstrated to him privately concerning this behaviour, but could obtain no other satisfaction than the following plain declaration: "If you dislike any thing in my brother's house, sir, you know you are at liberty to quit it." This strange, cruel, and almost unaccountable ingratitude in the captain, absolutely broke the poor doctor's heart; for ingratitude never so thoroughly pierces the human breast, as when it proceeds from those in whose behalf we have been guilty of transgressions. Reflections on great and good actions, however they are received or returned by those in whose favour they are performed, always administer some comfort to us; but what

consolation shall we receive under so biting a calamity as the ungrateful behaviour of our friend, when our wounded conscience at the same time flies in our face, and upbraids us with having spotted it in the service of one so worthless?

Mr Allworthy himself spoke to the captain in his brother's behalf, and desired to know what offence the doctor had committed; when the hard-hearted villain had the baseness to say, that he should never forgive him for the injury which he had endeavoured to do him in his favour, which, he said, he had pumped out of him, and was such a cruelty, that it ought not to be forgiven.

Allworthy spoke in very high terms upon this declaration, which, he said, became not a human creature. He expressed, indeed, so much resentment against an unforgiving temper, that the captain at last pretended to be convinced by his arguments, and outwardly professed to be reconciled.

As for the bride, she was now in her honeymoon, and so passionately fond of her new husband, that he never appeared to her to be in the wrong; and his displeasure against any person was a sufficient reason for her dislike to the

same.

The captain, at Mr Allworthy's instance, was outwardly, as we have said, reconciled to his .brother, yet the same rancour remained in his heart; and he found so many opportunities of giving him private hints of this, that the house at last grew insupportable to the poor doctor; and he chose rather to submit to any inconveniences which he might encounter in the world, than longer to bear these cruel and ungrateful insults, from a brother for whom he had done so much.

He once intended to acquaint Allworthy with the whole; but he could not bring himself to submit to the confession, by which he must take to his share so great a portion of guilt. Besides, by how much the worse man he represented his brother to be, so much the greater would his own offence appear to Allworthy, and so much the greater, he had reason to imagine, would be his resentment.

He feigned, therefore, some excuse of business for his departure, and promised to return soon again; and took leave of his brother with so well dissembled content, that, as the captain played his part to the same perfection, Allworthy remained well satisfied with the truth of the reconciliation.

The doctor went directly to London, where he died soon after of a broken heart; a distemper which kills many more than is generally imagined, and would have a fair title to a place in the bill of mortality, did it not differ in one instance from all other diseases, viz. that no physician can cure it.

Now, upon the most diligent enquiry into the former lives of these two brothers, I find, be

sides the cursed and hellish maxim of policy above mentioned, another reason for the captain's conduct; the captain, besides what we have before said of him, was a man of great pride and fierceness, and had always treated his brother, who was of a different complexion, and greatly deficient in both those qualities, with the utmost air of superiority. The doctor, however, had much the larger share of learning, and was

by many reputed to have the better understanding. This the captain knew, and could not bear ; for though envy is, at best, a very malignant passion, yet is its bitterness greatly heightened, by mixing with contempt towards the same object; and very much afraid I am, that whenever an obligation is joined to these two, indignation, and not gratitude, will be the product of all three.

BOOK II.

Containing scenes of matrimonial felicity in different degrees of life, and various other transactions during the first two years after the marriage between Captain Blifil and Miss Bridget Allworthy.

CHAP. I.

Of which we wish we could give our reader a more adequate translation than that by Mr Creech,

Shewing what kind of a History this is; what it "When dreadful Carthage frighted Rome with

is like, and what it is not like.

THOUGH We have properly enough entitled this our work, a History, and not a Life; nor an Apology for a Life, as is more in fashion; yet we intend in it rather to pursue the method of those writers who profess to disclose the revolutions of countries, than to imitate the painful and voluminous historian, who, to preserve the regularity of his series, thinks himself obliged to fill up as much paper with the detail of months and years in which nothing remarkable happened, as he employs upon those notable æras when the greatest scenes have been transacted on the human stage.

Such histories as these do, in reality, very much resemble a newspaper, which consists of just the same number of words, whether there be any news in it or not. They may, likewise, be compared to a stage-coach, which performs constantly the same course, empty as well as full. The writer, indeed, seems to think himself obliged to keep even pace with time, whose amanuensis he is; and, like his master, travels as slowly through centuries of monkish dulness, when the world seems to have been asleep, as through that bright and busy age so nobly distinguished by the excellent Latin poet.

"Ad confligendum venientibus undique pœnis, Omnia cum belli trepido concussa tumultu Horrida contremuere sub altis ætheris auris: In dubioque fuit sub utrorum regna cadendum Omnibus humanis esset, terraque marique."

6

arms,

And all the world was shook with fierce alarms; Whilst undecided yet, which part should fall, Which nation rise the glorious lord of all."

Now it is our purpose in the ensuing pages to pursue a contrary method. When any extraordinary scene presents itself, (as we trust will often be the case,) we shall spare no pains nor paper to open it at large to our reader; but if whole years should pass without producing any thing worthy his notice, we shall not be afraid of a chasm in our history; but shall hasten on to matters of consequence, and leave such periods of time totally unobserved.

These are indeed to be considered as blanks in the grand lottery of time. We therefore, who are the registers of that lottery, shall imitate those sagacious persons who deal in that which is drawn at Guildhall, and who never trouble the public with the many blanks they dispose of; but when a great prize happens to be drawn, the newspapers are presently filled with it, and the world is sure to be informed at whose office it was sold; indeed, commonly two or three different offices lay claim to the honour of having disposed of it; by which, I suppose, the adventurers are given to understand that certain brokers are in the secrets of fortune, and indeed of her cabinet-council.

My reader then is not to be surprised, if, in the course of this work, he shall find some chapters very short, and others altogether as long; some that contain only the time of a single day,

and others that comprise years; in a word, if my history sometimes seems to stand still, and some times to fly. For all which I shall not look on myself as accountable to any court of critical jurisdiction whatever; for as I am, in reality, the founder of a new province of writing, so I am at liberty to make what laws I please therein. And these laws, my readers, whom I consider as my subjects, are bound to believe in and to obey; with which that they may readily and cheerfully comply, I do hereby assure them, that I shall principally regard their ease and advantage in all such institutions: for I do not, like a jure divino tyrant, imagine that they are my slaves, or my commodity. I am, indeed, set over them for their own good only, and was created for their use, and not they for mine. Nor do I doubt, while I make their interest the great rule of my writings, they will unanimously concur in supporting my dignity, and in rendering me all the honour I shall deserve or desire.

CHAP. II.

Religious cautions against shewing too much favour to bastards; and a great discovery made by Mrs Deborah Wilkins.

EIGHT months after the celebration of the nuptials between Captain Blifil and Miss Bridget Allworthy, a young lady of great beauty, merit, and fortune, was Miss Bridget, by reason of a fright, delivered of a fine boy. The child was indeed, to all appearance, perfect, but the midwife discovered it was born a month before its full time.

Though the birth of an heir by his beloved sister was a circumstance of great joy to Mr Allworthy, yet it did not alienate his affections from the little foundling, to whom he had been god-father, had given his own name of Thomas, and whom he had hitherto seldom failed of visiting, at least once a-day, in his nursery.

He told his sister, if she pleased, the new-born infant should be bred up together with little Tommy, to which she consented, though with some little reluctance: for she had truly a great complacence for her brother; and hence she had always behaved towards the foundling with rather more kindness than ladies of rigid virtue can sometimes bring themselves to shew these children, who, however innocent, may be truly called the living monuments of incontinence.

The captain could not so easily bring himself to bear what he condemned as a fault in Mr Allworthy. He gave him frequent hints, that to adopt the fruits of sin, was to give countenance to it. He quoted several texts, (for he was well read in Scripture,) such as, He visits the sins of the fathers upon the children; and, The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the

children's teeth are set on edge, &c.; whence he argued the legality of punishing the crime of the parent on the bastard. He said, though the law did not positively allow the destroying such base-born children, yet it held them to be the children of nobody; that the church considered them as the children of nobody; and that, at the best, they ought to be brought up to the lowest and vilest offices of the commonwealth.

Mr Allworthy answered to all this, and much more, which the captain had urged on this subject, that however guilty the parents might be, the children were certainly innocent; that as to the texts he had quoted, the former of them was a particular denunciation against the Jews for the sin of idolatry, of relinquishing and hating their heavenly King; and the latter was parabolically spoken, and rather intended to denote the certain and necessary consequences of sin, than any express judgment against it. But to represent the Almighty as avenging the sins of the guilty on the innocent was indecent, if not blasphemous, as it was to represent him acting against the first principles of natural justice, and against the original notions of right and wrong, which he himself had implanted in our minds, by which we were to judge, not only in all matters which were not revealed, but even of the truth of revelation itself. He said, he knew many held the same principles with the captain on this head; but he was himself firmly convinced to the contrary, and would provide in the same manner for this poor infant, as if a legitimate child had had the fortune to have been found in the same place.

While the captain was taking all opportunities to press these and such like arguments, to remove the little foundling from Mr Allworthy's, of whose fondness for him he began to be jealous, Mrs Deborah had made a discovery, which, in its event, threatened at least to prove more fatal to poor Tommy than all the reasonings of the captain.

Whether the insatiable curiosity of this good woman had carried her on to that business, or whether she did it to confirm herself in the good graces of Mrs Blifil, who, notwithstanding her outward behaviour to the foundling, frequently abused the infant in private, and her brother too for his fondness to it, I will not determine; but she had now, as she conceived, fully detected the father of the foundling.

Now, as this was a discovery of great consequence, it may be necessary to trace it from the fountain-head. We shall therefore very minutely lay open those previous matters by which it was produced; and for that purpose we shall be obliged to reveal all the secrets of a little family, with which my reader is at present entirely unacquainted, and of which the economy was so rare and extraordinary, that I fear it will shock the utmost credulity of many married persons.

[blocks in formation]

My reader may please to remember he hath been informed, that Jenny Jones had lived some years with a certain schoolmaster, who had, at her earnest desire, instructed her in Latin, in which, to do justice to her genius, she had so improved herself, that she was become a better scholar than her master.

Indeed, though this poor man had undertaken a profession to which learning must be allowed necessary, this was the least of his commendations. He was one of the best-natured fellows in the world, and was, at the same time, master of so much pleasantry and humour, that he was reputed the wit of the country; and all the neighbouring gentlemen were so desirous of his company, that, as denying was not his talent, he spent much time at their houses, which he might, with more emolument, have spent in his school.

It may be imagined, that a gentleman so qualified, and so disposed, was in no danger of becoming formidable to the learned seminaries of Eton or Westminster. To speak plainly, his scholars were divided into two classes; in the upper of which was a young gentleman, the son of a neighbouring squire, who at the age of seventeen was just entered into his Syntaxis; and in the lower was a second son of the same gentleman, who, together with seven parish boys, was learning to read and write.

The stipend arising hence would hardly have indulged the schoolmaster in the luxuries of life, had he not added to this office those of clerk and barber, and had not Mr Allworthy added to the whole an annuity of ten pounds, which the poor man received every Christmas, and with which he was enabled to chear his heart during that sacred festival.

Among his other treasures, the pedagogue had a wife, whom he had married out of Mr Allworthy's kitchen for her fortune, viz. twenty pounds, which she had there amassed.

This woman was not very amiable in her person. Whether she sat to my friend Hogarth or no, I will not determine; but she exactly resembled the young woman who is pouring out her mistress's tea in the third picture of the Harlot's Progress. She was, besides, a profest follower of that noble sect founded by Xantippe of old; by means of which she became more formidable in the school than her husband; for, to confess the truth, he was never master there, or any where else, in her presence.

Though her countenance did not denote much natural sweetness of temper, yet this was, per

haps, somewhat soured by a circumstance which generally poisons matrimonial felicity: for children are rightly called the pledges of love; and her husband, though they had been married nine years, had given her no such pledges; a default for which he had no excuse, either from age or health, being not yet thirty years old, and what they call a jolly, brisk, young man.

Hence arose another evil, which produced no little uneasiness to the poor pedagogue, of whom she maintained so constant a jealousy, that he durst hardly speak to one woman in the parish; for the least degree of civility, or even correspondence with any female, was sure to bring his wife upon her back and his own.

In order to guard herself against matrimonial injuries in her own house, as she kept one maidservant, she always took care to chuse her out of that order of females whose faces are taken as a kind of security for their virtue; of which number Jenny Jones, as the reader hath been informed, was one.

As the face of this young woman might be called pretty good security of the before-mentioned kind, and as her behaviour had been always extremely modest, which is the certain consequence of understanding in women; she had passed above four years at Mr Partridge's (for that was the schoolmaster's name) without creating the least suspicion in her mistress. Nay, she had been treated with uncommon kindness, and her mistress had permitted Mr Partridge to give her those instructions which have been before commemorated.

But it is with jealousy, as with the gout. When such distempers are in the blood, there is never any security against their breaking out; and that often on the slightest occasions, and when least expected.

Thus it happened to Mrs Partridge, who had submitted four years to her husband's teaching this young woman, and had suffered her often to neglect her work, in order to pursue her learning. For passing by one day, as the girl was reading, and her master leaning over her, the girl, I know not for what reason, suddenly started up from her chair: and this was the first time that suspicion ever entered into the head of her mistress.

This did not, however, at that time, discover itself, but lay lurking in her mind, like a concealed enemy, who waits for a reinforcement of additional strength, before he openly declares himself, and proceeds upon hostile operations: and such additional strength soon arrived to corroborate her suspicion: for not long after, the husband and wife being at dinner, the master said to his maid, Da mihi aliquid potum : upon which the poor girl smiled, perhaps at the badness of the Latin; and when her mistress cast her eyes on her, blushed, possibly with the consciousness of having laughed at her master. Mrs Partridge upon this immediately fell into a fury,

« AnteriorContinuar »