CHAPTER IV. A Proof that even the humblest Fortune » grant Happiness, which depends, not on C. cumstances, but Constitution. THE place of our retreat was in a littl neighbourhood, consisting of farmers, who tilled their own grounds, and were equal strangers to opulence and poverty. As they had almost all the conveniences of life within themselves, they seldom visited towns or cities in search of superfluity. Remote from the polite, they still retained the primeval 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, ate pancakes on Shrovetide, showed their wit on the first of April, and religiously cracked nuts on Michaelmas eve. Being apprised of our approach, the whole neighbourhood came out to meet their minister, dressed in their finest clothes, 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 prattling river before; on one side a meadow, on the other a green. My farm consisted of about twenty acres of excellent land, ven an hundred pounds for my good-will. Nothing could ness of my little enclosures, edge-rows appearing with uty. My house consisted and was covered with gave it an air of great snugS, on the inside, were nicely and my daughters underthem with pictures of their g. Though the same room or parlour and kitchen, that it the warmer. Besides, as it with the utmost neatness, the ates, and coppers being well and all disposed in bright rows helves, the eye was agreeably reand did not want richer furniture. S m/ oui shi; who peric our u and d providi ready a hour for which tir between philosoph. and me. As we re pursued our down, but re family, where and pleasant t reception. No sometimes fa ative neighbour, would pay us a berry wine, for had lost neither tion. These har ways of being goo played, the other w ballad,-Johnny Night, or the Cru The night was con we began the morni being appointed to re. day; and he that read and he as to h Sur nto the behaviour serve desired my girls the dressed early the nest loved to be at churdap the rest of the congregan tually obeyed my directin were to assemble in the m fast, down came my wie dressed out in all their former their hair plastered up with their faces patched to taste, bundled up in a heap behind, at every motion. I could not helps at their vanity, particularly that of my from whom I expected more disc In this exigence, therefore, my only source was to order my son, with an in portant 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: guiary we want no coach to carry us now, "You mistake, child," returned I, "we the girls do want a coach; for if we walk to church they thus father Moses would let in this trim, the very children in the parish and I would still And I," cried Bill, will hoot after us." "Indeed," replied that was embelinell my part, if my my wife, "I always imagined that my centaury, talk of Charles was fond of seeing his children and enjoy the bread cried 1, "hos to theirs." teat and handsome about him." "Well may be as neat as you please," interrupted In this manner webshelter, and the "You health and harmonynt Christian duties. "and I shall love you the better for it; every situation in life but helpless man but all this is not neatness, but frippery. peculiar pleasures: These rufflings, and pinkings, and patch- us to a repetition of tuber in this world his fellow-creawill only make us hated by all the wives repaid it with vacant hilarity. He never of our neighbours. No, my children," continued I, more gravely, "those gowns on a holiday-for I kept me among us. It was about the beginning to see what may be altered into something of a plainer of relaxation from cat; for finery is very unbecoming in us, drawn out my who want the means of decency. I do of amusem not know whether such flouncing and began th shredding is becoming even in the rich, if thus er we consider, upon a moderate calculation, by, that the nakedness of the indigent world we might be clothed from the trimmings of seem the vain. at themselves in the glass, which, even philosophers might own, often presented the page of greatest beauty. At dinner, my wife took the lead; for, as she always insisted upon carving everything herself, it being her mother's way, she gave us, upon these occasions, the history of every dish. When we had dined, to prevent the ladies leaving us, I generally ordered the table to be removed; and sometimes, with the music-master's assistance, the girls would give us a very agreeable concert. Walking out, drinking tea, country dances, and forfeits, shortened the rest of the day, without the assistance of cards, as I hated all manner of gaming, except backgammon, at which my old friend and I sometimes took a twopenny hit. Nor can I here pass over an ominous circumstance that happened, the last time we played together. I only wanted to fling a quatre, and yet I threw deuce ace five times running. Some months were elapsed in this manner, till at last it was thought convenient to fix a day for the nuptials of the young couple, who seemed earnestly to desire it. During the preparations for the wedding, I need not describe the busy importance of my wife, nor the sly looks of my daughters: in fact, my attention was fixed on another object,the completing a tract, which I intended shortly to publish, in defence of my favourite principle. As I looked upon this as a masterpiece, both for argument and style, I could not, in the pride of my heart, avoid showing it to my old friend Mr. Wilmot, as I made no doubt of receiving his approbation: but not till too late I discovered that he was most violently attached to the contrary opinion, and with good reason; for he was at that time actually courting a fourth wife. This, as may be expected, produced a dispute, attended with some acrimony, which threatened to interrupt our intended alliance; but, on the day before that appointed for the ceremony, we agreed to discuss the subject at large. It was managed with proper spirit on both sides; he asserted that I was heterodox; I retorted the charge: he replied, and I rejoined. In the meantime, while 66 the controversy was hottest, I was called out by one of my relations, who, with: face of concern, advised me to give u the dispute, at least till my son's wedding was over. 'How," cried I, “relinquisà the cause of truth, and let him be a husband, already driven to the very verge of absurdity? You might as well advis me to give up my fortune as my argu ment. "Your fortune," returned my friend, "I am now sorry to inform you, is almost nothing. The merchant in town, in whose hands your money was lodged, has gone off, to avoid a statute of bankruptcy, and is thought not to have left a shilling in the pound. I was unwilling to shock you or the family with the account till after the wedding: bat now it may serve to moderate your warmth in the argument; for, I suppose, your own prudence will enforce the ne cessity of dissembling, at least till your son has the young lady's fortune secure. "Well," returned I, "if what you tell me be true, and if I am to be a beggar, it shall never make me a rascal, or induce me to disavow my principles. I'll go this moment and inform the company of my circumstances: and, as for the argument, I even here retract my former concessions in the old gentleman's favour, nor wil allow him now to be a husband in any sense of the expression." It would be endless to describe the dif ferent sensations of both families when I divulged the news of our misfortune: but what others felt was slight to what the lovers appeared to endure. Mr. Wilmot, who seemed before sufficiently inclined to break off the match, was, by this blow, soon determined: one virtue he had in perfection, which was prudence, too often the only one that is left us at seventy-two. CHAPTER III. A Migration. The fortunate Circumstances of our Lives are generally found at last to be of our own procuring. THE only hope of our family now was, that the report of our misfortune might be malicious or premature; but a letter from my agent in town soon came, with a confirmation of every particular. The loss of fortune to myself alone would have been triding; the only uneasiness I felt was for my family, who were to be humbled without an education to render them callous to contempt. |_ Near a fortnight had passed before I attempted to restrain their affliction; for premature consolation is but the remembrancer of sorrow. During this interval, my thoughts were employed on some ature means of supporting them; and at ast a small cure of fifteen pounds a year was offered me, in a distant neighbourLeod, where I could still enjoy my prinples without molestation. With this proposal I joyfully closed, having detertined to increase my salary by managing a little farm. Having taken this resolution, my next care was to get together the wrecks of my fortune; and, all debts collected and paid, out of fourteen thousand pounds we had bat four hundred remaining. My chief attention, therefore, was now to bring down the pride of my family to their circrustances; for I well knew that aspiring Degary is wretchedness itself. "You Cannot be ignorant, my children," cried I, that no prudence of ours could have revented our late misfortune; but prudence may do much in disappointing its effects. We are now poor, my fondlings, and wisdom bids us conform to our humble bation. Let us then, without repining, ve up those splendours with which numbers are wretched, and seek in humbler circumstances that peace with which all ay be happy. The poor live pleasantly thout our help; why, then, should not we learn to live without theirs? No, my children, let us from this moment give up pretensions to gentility: we have still nough left for happiness if we are wise, and let us draw upon content for the deficiencies of fortune." As my eldest son was bred a scholar, I determined to send him to town, where his abilities might contribute to our support and his own. The separation of rends and families is, perhaps, one of the most distressful circumstances attendant The day soon arrived on which we were to disperse for the first me. My son, after taking leave of his on penury. mother and the rest, who mingled their tears with their kisses, came to ask a blessing from me. This I gave him from my heart, and which, added to five guineas, was all the patrimony I had now to bestow. "You are going, my boy," cried I, "to London on foot, in the manner Hooker, your great ancestor, travelled there before you. Take from me the same horse that was given him by the good bishop Jewel, this staff, and take this book, too, it will be your comfort on the way: these two lines in it are worth a million,-'I have been young, and now am old; yet never saw I the righteous man forsaken, or his seed begging their bread.' Let this be your consolation as you travel on. my boy; whatever be thy fortune, let me see thee once a year; still keep a good heart, and farewell." As he was possessed of integrity and honour, I was under no apprehensions from throwing him naked into the amphitheatre of life; for I knew he would act a good part whether vanquished or victorious. Go, His departure only prepared the way for our own, which arrived a few days afterwards. The leaving a neighbourhood in which we had enjoyed so many hours of tranquillity was not without a tear, which scarce fortitude itself could suppress. Besides, a journey of seventy miles, to a family that had hitherto never been above ten from home, filled us with apprehension; and the cries of the poor, who followed us for some miles, contributed to increase it. The first day's journey brought us in safety within thirty miles of our future retreat, and we put up for the night at an obscure inn in a village by the way. When we were shown 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 increase 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. gentleman he described as one who desired to know little more of the world than its pleasures, being particularly remarkable for his attachment for the fair sex. He observed that no virtue was able to This י! 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 guincas 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, showing in a gentleman who seemed to be about thirty, dressed in clothes that once were laced. His person I 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 shown me 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 footpath 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 ear. We lightened the fatigues of the ad 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 consummate 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 were all 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 the scholar was soon distinguished in the army, and had some |