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 COOKED EDITIOX OF SELECT B3UTI 
 
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 ^aftirfe of Moncv from Strmi-cTlm>Wn^ 
 
 fir JaJ.fr t fmidi
 
 THE 
 
 O F 
 
 J TALE, 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES, 
 
 BY DR. GOLDSMITH. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Sperate miferi, cavete felices. 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED FOR C. COOK.E, No, 17, PATIK- 
 
 NOSTER-ROW.
 
 Stack 
 
 MEMOIRS ***** 
 
 LIFE AND WRITINGS 
 
 OF 
 
 OLIVER GOLDSMITH, M. B. 
 
 HE life of afcholar," Dr. Goldfmith has 
 remarked, " feldom abounds- with adven- 
 ture ; his fame is acquired in folitude, and the 
 hittorian who only views him at a diftance, muft 
 be content with a dry detail of actions by which 
 he is fcarce diftinguifhed from the reft of man- 
 kind : but we are fond of talking of thofe who 
 have given us pleafure, not that we have any 
 thing important to fay, but becaufe the fubject is 
 plealing. ' 
 
 Oliver Goldfmith, fon of the Reverend Charles 
 Goldfmith, was born at Elphin, in the county of 
 Rofcommon, in Ireland, in the year 1729. His 
 father had four fons, of whom.Oliver was the third. 
 After being well inftrudted in the claflics, at the 
 fchool of Mr. Hughes, he was admitted a fizer in 
 Trinity-college, Dublin, on the nth of June^ 1744. 
 While he reh'ded there, he exhibited nq fpecimens 
 of that genius, which, in his maturer years, raifed 
 his character fo high. On the 27th of February, 
 1749, O. S. (two years after the regular time) he 
 obtained the degree of Bachelor of Arts. Soon 
 after, he turned his thoughts to the profefTion of 
 phyfic; and, after attending fome courfes of ana- 
 tomy in Dublin, proceeded to Edinburgh, in the 
 year 1751, where he ftudied the feveral branches of 
 medicine under the different profeflbrs in that uni- 
 verfity. His beneficent difpofition foon involved 
 him in unexpected difficulties ; and he was obliged 
 A 2 precipi-
 
 4 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 
 precipitately to leave Scotland, in confequence of 
 having engage d himfelf to pay a confiderable fiim of 
 money for a fellow-ftudent. 
 
 A few days after, about the beginning of the year 
 1754, he arrived at Sunderland, near Newcaftle, 
 where he was anefted at the fuit of one Barclay, a 
 tayior in Edinburgh, to whom he had given fecurity 
 for his friend. By the good offices of Laughlin 
 Maclane, Efq. and Dr. Sleigh, who were then in 
 the college, he was loon delivered out of the hands 
 of the bailiff, and took his paflage on board a Dutch 
 fhip to Rotterdam, where, after a fhort fray, he 
 proceeded to BrufTels. He then viiited great part of 
 Flanders ; and, after patting fome time at Strafbourg 
 and Louvain, where he obtained a degree of Bachelor 
 in Phyfic, he accompanied an Englifh gentleman to 
 Geneva. 
 
 It is undoubtedly a fact, that this ingenious, un- 
 fortunate man, made moll part of his tour on foot.* 
 Ke had left England with very little money ; and, 
 being of a philosophic turn, and at that time pof- 
 fefTing a body capable of fuftaining every fatigue, 
 and a heart not ealily terrified by danger, he became 
 an enthuftaft to the defign he had formed of feeing 
 the manners of different countries. He had fome 
 knowledge of the French language, and of mufic ; 
 he played tolerably well on the German flute ; 
 which, from an amufement, became, at fome times, 
 the means of fubfiftence. His learning produced 
 him an ,'iofpitable reception at moft of the religious 
 houfes he viiited ; and his mufic made him welcome 
 to the peafants of Flanders and Germany. ' When- 
 ' ever I approached a peufant's houfe towards night- 
 
 * fall,' he ufed to fay, * I played one of my molt 
 ;T: ' Countries wear different appsaiances to traveller* or 
 
 ' different circu-.nftances. A m-m \vlv> is whirled thr 
 
 * Europe in a polt-chaile, and the pilgrim who walks the 
 ' grand tcur on root, will form very different conciulions. 
 
 * Hand inexffrtus loqucrS GoldfmiuYs Prefer,! St~ 
 Learning In Lirofc, 1758. 
 
 * merry
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH 1 . 5 
 merry tunes, and that generally procured me not 
 only a lodging, but fubfiftence for the next day : 
 but, IN TRUTH' (his confhint expreflion) ' I 
 hnift own, whenever I attempted to entertain per- 
 fons of a higher rank, they always thought my 
 performance odious, and never made me any re- 
 turn for my endeavours to pleafe them.' 
 On his arrival at Geneva, he was recommended 
 as a proper perfon for a travelling tutor to a young 
 man, who had been unexpectedly left a confiderable 
 fumof money by his uncle Mr. S. **. This 
 youth, who was articled to an attorney on receipt 
 of his fortune, determined to fee the world ; and, 
 on his engaging with his preceptor, made a provifo, 
 that he fhotild be permitted to govern himfelf : and 
 our traveller foon found his pupil underftood the 
 art of directing in money concerns extremely well, 
 as avarice was his prevailing padion. 
 
 During Goldfmith's continuance in Switzerland, 
 he afliduoufly cultivated his poetical talent, of which 
 he had given fome ftriking proofs at the college of 
 EAJnburgh. It was from hence he fent the firft 
 fketch ot his delightful epiftle, called the TRAVEL- 
 LER, to his brother Henry, a clergyman in Ireland, 
 who, giving up fame and fortune, had retired with 
 an amiable wife to happinefs and obfcurity, on an 
 income of only forty pounds a year. The great 
 affection Goldfmith bore for this brother, is thus 
 exprefled in the poem before- mentioned, and gives 
 a ftriking picture of his fituation. 
 
 Remote, unfriended, melancholy, flow, 
 Or by the laz'y Scheld, or wandering Po; 
 Or onwar.i, where the rude Carinthian boor, 
 Again ft the houfelefs ftranger (huts the door } 
 Or where Campania's plain ibrfakcn lies, 
 A weary wafte expanding to the (kies ; 
 Where'er I mam, whatever realms to fee, 
 My heart uatravel'd fondly turns to thee: 
 Still to my brother turns, with ceafelefs pain, 
 And drags at each remove a leng'.h'uing chain : 
 
 A 3 Eternal
 
 6 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 
 
 Eternal bleliings crown tny earlieft fiiend, 
 And n uxrf hh dwelling guardian fjints attend ; 
 Bieft be that ipot, where chearful guefis retire, 
 To paufe from toil, and trim tbeir evening lire 5 
 Bleli that abode, where vint and pa'^n repair, 
 And every ftran^er finds a ready chair ; 
 Blfft be thofe feafts with fimple plenty crowr.'d, 
 Where all the ruddy family around, 
 Laugh at tfe- jefti or pranks that never fail, 
 Or ligh with pity at ibme mournful tale ; 
 Or prefs the bjfliful ftrar.ger t-> his food, 
 And learn the luxury of doing good. 
 
 From Geneva Mr. Goldfmith and his pupil pro- 
 ceeded to the ibuth of France, where the \ 
 man, upon fome dif agreement with his preceptor, 
 paid him the iiuall part of his falary which was due, 
 and embarked at Marfeilles for England. Our 
 wanderer was left once more upon the world at 
 large, and pafled through a number of difficulties 
 in traverfmg the greateft part of France. At length 
 his curiofity being gratified, he bent his courie to- 
 v/ards England, and arrived at Dover, the biy In- 
 ning of the winter, in the year 1758. 
 
 His finances were io low on his return to England, 
 that he with difficulty got to the metropolis, his 
 whole flock of cafli amounting to no more than a 
 few halfpence. An entire ft ranger in London, his 
 mind was filled with the inoft gloomy reflections in 
 conlequence of his embarrafled fituation. He ap- 
 plied to feveral apothecaries, in hopes of being re- 
 ceived in the capacity of a journeyman, but his 
 broad Irifh accent, and the uncouthnefs of his ap- 
 pearance, occafioned him to meet with infult from 
 mod of the medicinal tribe. The next day, how- 
 ever, a chymift near Fifh-ftrect, ftruck with his for- 
 lorn condition, and the (implicit)' of his manner, 
 took him into his laboratory, where he continued 
 till he difcovercd that his old friend Dr. Sleigh was 
 in London. That gentleman received him v. ith the 
 wanned affection, and liberally invited him to fhure
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 7 
 his purle till fame cftablifliment could be procured 
 for him. Goldfmith, unwilling to be a burden to 
 his friend, a (liort time after eagerly embraced an 
 offer which was made him to afiift the late Rev. Dr. 
 Milner, in initructing the young gentlemen at the 
 academy at Peckham ; and acquitted himfelf greatly 
 to the Doctor's fatisfa&ion for a fhort time ; but, 
 having obtained fome reputation by the criticifms he 
 had written in the Monthly Review, Mr. Griffith, 
 the principal proprietor, engaged him in the com- 
 pilation of it ; and, refolving to purfue the profef- 
 fion of writing, he returned to London, as the 
 mart where abilities of every kind were fure of 
 meeting diftintiion and reward. Here he deter- 
 mined to adopt a plan of the ftricleft orconomy, and, 
 at the clofe of tjie year 1759, to k lodgings in 
 Green-Arbour-coiirt, in the Old Bailey, where he 
 wrote feveral ingenious pieces. The late Mr. New- 
 bery, who, at that time gave great encouragement 
 to men of literary abilities, became a kind of patron 
 to our young author, and introduced him as one of 
 the writers in the Public: Ledger *, in which his Ci- 
 tizen of the World originally appeared, under the 
 title of ' Chinefe Letters.' 
 
 Fortune now feemed to take fome notice of a man 
 flie had long neglected. The fimplicity of his cha- 
 racter, the integrity of his heart, and the merit of 
 his productions, made his company very acceptable 
 to a number of refpcctable perfons ; and, about 
 
 * During this tim, (according to another account) he 
 wrote fjr the Britifh Magazine, of which Dr. Smollet was 
 then editor, mod of" thofe EJfayt and Talet, which he af- 
 terwatds collected and publilhed in a feparate volume. He 
 alfo wrote occaltonally for the Critic.il Review ; and it was 
 the merit which he difcovcrcd in criticifing a defpicable tran- 
 flation of Ovid's Fafti by a p-dantic fchool-marter, and his 
 Enquiry into the Prejeiit State of Learning in Etttofe, which 
 firlt introduced him to the acquaintance 01 Dr. Smollet, who 
 recommended him to feveral literati, and 10 moll of the 
 kookfcllcrs, by whom he =. aitcrwaids patronized, 
 
 the
 
 8 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH, 
 the middle of the year 1762, he emerged from his 
 mean apartments near the Old Bailey to the politer 
 air of the Temple, where he took handfbme cham- 
 bers, and lived in a genteel ftyle. 
 
 Among many other perfons of distinction who 
 vere defirous to know him, was the Duke of Nor- 
 thumberland, and the circumftance that attended his 
 introduction to that nobleman is worthy cf being 
 related, in order to (hew a ftriking trait of his cha- 
 racter. ' I was invited,' faid the Doctor, ' by my 
 friend Percy, to wait upon the Duke, in confe- 
 quence of the iatisfaction he had received from 
 the perufal of one of my productions. I drefled 
 myfelf in the belt manner I could, and after ftu- 
 dying fome compliments I thought neceflary on 
 fuch an occafion, proceeded on to Northumber- 
 land-houfe, and acquainted the fervants that 1 had 
 particular btifinefs with his Grace. They fhewed 
 me into an anti-chamber, where, after waiting 
 fome time, a gentleman very elegantly drefled 
 made his appearance a taking him for the Duke, 
 I delivered all the fineXthings I had compofed, in 
 order to compliment him on the honour he had 
 done me; when, to my great aftonifhment, he 
 told me I had miftaken him for his matter, who 
 would fee me immed : ately. At that inftant the 
 Duke came into the apartment, and I was fo con- 
 founded on the occafion, that I wanted words 
 barely fufficient to exprefs the fenfe I entertained 
 of the Duke's politencfs, and went away exceed- 
 ingly chagrined at the blunder I had committed.' 
 The Doctor at the time of this vifit was much 
 embarrafTed in his circumftances, but vain of the 
 honour done him, was continually mentioning it. 
 One cf thefe ingenious executors of the law, a 
 bailiff, who had a writ againft him, determined to 
 turn tliis circumftance to his own advantage ; he 
 wrote him a letter, that he was ftevrard to a noble- 
 man who was charmed with reading his laft produc- 
 tion, and hud ordered him to deiire the Doctor to 
 3 appoint
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 9 
 
 appoint a place where he might have the honour of 
 meeting him, to conduct him to hisLordfliip. The 
 vanity of poor Goldimith immediately fwallowed 
 the bait; lie appointed the Britiih Coffee-houfe, to 
 which he was accompanied by his friend Mr. Hamil- 
 ton, the printer of the Critical Review, who in 
 vain remonflrated on the Angularity of the applica- 
 tion. On entering the coffee-room the bailiff paid 
 his refpetts to the Doctor, and delired that he might 
 have the honour of immediately attending him. 
 They had fcarce entered Pall-mall, in their way to 
 bk Lord/tip, .vhen the bailiff produced his writ. 
 .Mr. Hamilton generoufly paid the money, and re- 
 deemed the Doclor from captivity. 
 
 The publications of his Traveller, his Vicar of 
 U'akeficld, and his Hifiory of England, were followed 
 by his comedy of The Gsodnatured Man, at Co- 
 vent Garden theatre, which placed him in the firft 
 rank of modern writers. 
 
 With refpeiSl to the Vicar of Wakefeld, it is cer- 
 t.iinly a compofition which has juftly merited the ap- 
 plaule of all difcerning readers, as one of the beft 
 Novels in the Englifh language. The diftion i* 
 chafte, correct, and elegant. The characters are 
 drawn to the life, and the fcenes it exhibits are in- 
 genioufly variegated with humour and fentiment. 
 The hero of the piece difplays the moll mining vir- 
 tues that can adorn relative and focial life ; fmccre 
 in his profetfion, humane and generous in his dilpo- 
 lition, he is himfelf a pattern of the character he 
 repreients, enforcing that excellent maxim, that 
 example is more powerful than precept. His wife 
 is drawn as poflcftng many 'laudable qualifications, 
 and her prevailing palTion for external parade, is au 
 inoffenfive foible, calculated rather to excite our mirth 
 than incur ourcenfure. The character of Cliv ; a,the 
 Vicar's cideft daughter, is contratted with that of 
 Sopliia the younger; the one being reprefentcd as of 
 a difpuiiiior. gay and volatile, the other as rather 
 grave and Heady ; though neither of them leems to 
 
 have
 
 TO MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 
 
 have indulged their peculiar propenfity beyond the 
 bounds of moderation. 
 
 Upon a review of this excellent production, it 
 nay be truly faid that it inculcates the pureft leifbns 
 of morality and virtue, free from the rigid laws of 
 ftoicifm, and adapted to abftract the efteem and ob- 
 fervation of every ingenious mind. It excites not a 
 thought that can be injurious in its tendency, nor 
 breathes an idea that can offend the chafteft ear. 
 
 Our Doctor, as he was now univerfally called, 
 had a conflant levee of his diftreft countrymen, 
 \vhofe wants, as far as he was able, he always re- 
 lieved ; and he has often been known to leave him- 
 felf even without a guinea, in order to fupply the 
 neceilities of others. 
 
 Another feature in his character we cannot help 
 laying before the reader. Previous to the publica- 
 tion of his Deferted Village, the bookfeller had given 
 him a note for one hundred guineas for the copy, 
 which the Doctor mentioned, a few hours after, to 
 one of his friends, who obferved it was a very great 
 fum for fo fhort a performance. ' In truth,' replied 
 Goldfmith, ' I think fo too ; it is much more than 
 ' the honeft man can afford, or the piece is worth ; 
 * 1 have not been eafy fmce I received it; 1 will 
 ' therefore go back and return him his note:' 
 which he actually did, and left it entirely to the 
 bookfeller to pay him according to the profits pro- 
 duced by the Tale of the poem, which turned out 
 very confiderable. 
 
 The author addrefTes this poem to his friend Sir 
 Jofhua Reynolds. He writes in the character of a 
 native of a country village, to which he gives the 
 name of Auburn, and which he pathetically ad- 
 drefles. He then proceeds to contrail the innocence 
 and happinefs of a fimple and a natural llate with 
 the miferies and vices that have been introduced by 
 polifhed life, and gives the following beautiful apof- 
 trophe to retirement : 
 
 ' O
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH, n 
 
 O blelt retirement, friend to life's decline, 
 Retreats from care that never muft be mine ; 
 How bleft is he who crowns, in fhades like thefe, 
 A youth of labour with an age of eafe ; 
 \Vho quits a world where ftroug temptations try, 
 And fince 'tis hard to combat learns to fly. 
 For him no wretches, born to work and wefp 
 Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep; 
 No Curly porter (lands in guilty (late, 
 To fpurn imploring famine from his gate; 
 But on he moves to meet his latter end, 
 Angels around befriending virtue's friend; 
 Sinks to the grave with unpeiceiv'd decay, 
 While refignation gently flopes the way ; 
 And all his profpec'ts brightning to the laft, 
 His heaven commences ere the world be pad !* 
 
 The defcription of the parifli prieft (probably in- 
 tended for a character of his brother Henry) would 
 have done honour to any poet of any age. In this 
 defcription the fimile of the bird teaching her young 
 to fly, and of the mountain that riles above the 
 ftorm, are not eafily to be paralleled. The reft of 
 the poem confifts of the character of the village 
 fchool-mafter, and a defcription of the village ale- 
 houfe, both drawn with admirable propriety and 
 force; a defcant on the mifchiefs of luxury and 
 wealth ; the variety of artificial peafures ; the mife- 
 ries of thofe who for want of employment at home, 
 are driven to fettle new colonies abroad, and con- 
 cludes with the following beautiful apoftrophe to 
 poetry : 
 
 ' And thou fweet poetry, thou lovelieft maid, 
 Still firft to fly where fenfual joys invade; 
 Unfit in thefe degenerate times of fharne, 
 To catch the heart, or ftrike for honeft fame; 
 Dear charming nymph, neglected and dccrieJ, 
 My (hame in crowds my folitiry pride; 
 Thou fource of all my blifs, and all my woe, 
 That found me poor at firft, and keep'fl me fo ; 
 Thou guide by which the n jbler arts excel, 
 Thou nurfe of every virtue, fare face well.' 
 
 The
 
 I* MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 
 
 The Doctor did not reap a profit from his poeti- 
 cal labours equal to thofe of his profe. The Earl 
 of Lifbnrne, whofe clalTical tarte is well known, one 
 day at a dinner of the Royal Academicians, lamented 
 to the Doctor his neglecting the mutes, and enquired 
 of him why lie forlbok poetry, in which he was lure 
 of charming his readers, to compile hiltories and 
 write novels? The Do<5tor replied, ' My Lord, by 
 
 * courting the mufes 1 fhall ftarve, but ,by my other 
 
 * labours, I eat, drink, have good cloaths, and en- 
 ' joy the luxuries of life.' 
 
 During the laft rehearful of his comedy, infilled, 
 She Stoo/'S to Conquer, which Mr. Colman thought 
 would not fucceed, on the Doctor's objecting to the 
 repetition of one of Tony Lumpkin's fpecches, 
 being apprehenfive it might injure the play, thfr 
 manager, with great keenneis replied, ' Plha, my 
 ' dear Doflor, do not be fearful offquibs, when wr 
 ' have been lilting almuft thele two hours upon a 
 ' barrel of gunpoivdtr.' The piece, however, con- 
 trary to Mr. Cohnan's expectation, was received 
 with uncommon applaufe by the audience; and 
 Goldfniith's pride was fo hurt by the feverity of the 
 above observation, thas it entirely put an end to his 
 friendfhip for the gentleman who m?.de it. 
 
 The fuccefsof the comedy of She Stoops to Conquer 
 produced a moft illiberal perfbnal atlack on ihe au- 
 thor in one of ihe public prinls. Enraged at this 
 abufive publication, Dr. Goldfmith repaired to the 
 houfe of the publifher, and after rcmonftrating OIT 
 the malignity of this allack on his character, began 
 to apply his cane tq ihe (houlders of the pub/ifier, 
 \vho making a powerful refiftance, from being the 
 defenfoe ibon became the offenftve combatant. 
 Dr. Kenrick, who was fitting in a private room of 
 the publifher's, hearing a noife in the (hop, came 
 in, put an end to the fight, and conveyedgthe Doctor 
 to a coach. The papers infumtly teemed with frefh 
 abufe on the impropriety ot" the Doctor's attempting 
 to beat* pcrfcai in his own houfe. on which in the 
 
 Daily
 
 14 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH, 
 with filent contempt, we do not pay a fufficient 
 deference to the opinion of the world. By recur- 
 ring to legal redrefs, we too often expofe the 
 weaknefs of the law, which only ferves to encreafe 
 our mortification by failing to releave us. In 
 fhort, every man mould fingly confider himfelf as 
 a guardian of the liberty of the prefs, and as far 
 as his influence can extend, mould endeavour to 
 prevent its licentioufnefs becoming at lad the grave 
 of its freedom. 
 
 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.' 
 
 Notwithftanding the great fuccefs of his pieces, by 
 fome of which, it is aflerted, upon good authority, 
 that he cleared iSool. inoneyear, his circumftances 
 were by no means in a profperous fituation ; partly 
 owing to the liberality of his difpofition, and partly 
 to an unfortunate habit he had contracted of gaming, 
 with the arts of which he was very little acquainted, 
 and confequently became the prey of thofe who were 
 unprincipled enough to take advantage of his igno- 
 rance. 
 
 Juft before his death he had formed a defign for 
 executing an univerfal dictionary of arts and fciences, 
 the profpeflus of which he actually printed and dif- 
 tributed among his acquaintance. In this work 
 feveral of his literary friends (particularly Sir 
 Jofhua Reynolds, Dr. Johnfon, and Mr Garrick) 
 had promifed to aflift, and to furnifh him with arti- 
 cles upon different fubjeiSls. He had entertained 
 the moft fanguine expectations from the fuccefs of it. 
 The undertaking, however, did not meet with that 
 encouragement from the bookfellers which he had 
 imagined it would receive ; and he uf'ed to lament 
 this circumftance almoft to the lad hour of his exif- 
 tence. 
 
 He had been for fome years afflidted, at different 
 tunes, with a violent ftrangnry, which contributed 
 not a little to embitter the latter part of his life ; 
 and which, united with the vexations he flittered 
 
 upon
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. ic 
 upon other occasions, brought on a kind of habitual 
 defpondency. In this unhappy condition he was at- 
 tacked by a nervous fever. 
 
 On Friday the twenty-fifth of March, 1774, find- 
 ing hmifelf extremely ill, he fent at eleven o'clock 
 at night for Mr Hawes, an apothecary, to whom lie 
 complained of a violent pain extending all over the 
 fore part of his head, his tongue was moift, he had 
 a cold fhivermg, and h?s pulfe beat about ninety 
 ftrokes in a minute. He acquainted him he had 
 taken two ounces of Ipecacuanha wine as a vomit, 
 and that it was his intention to take Dr. James's 
 fever powders, which he defired him to fend him. 
 Mr. Hawes replied, that in his opinion this medicine 
 was very improper at that time, and begged he 
 would not think of it; but every argument ufed 
 fecmed only to render him more determined in his 
 own opinion. 
 
 Mr. Hawes knowing that in preceding ilfoeflTes 
 Dr. Goldfmith always confulted Dr. Fordyce, and 
 that hehadexprefledthegreateft opinion of his abili- 
 ties as a phyfician, requested that he might be per- 
 nutted to fend for him. It was a full quarter of an 
 hour before Mr. Hawes could obtain his confent, as 
 the taking Dr. James's powders appeared to be 
 the only ohjeft which employed his attention ; and 
 even then he endeavoured to throw an obftacle in 
 his way, by faying, that Dr. Fordyce was gone to 
 fpend the evening in Gerrard- ftreet, < where,* 
 added he, ' I fhould alfo have been, if I had not been 
 mdifpofed.' Mr. Hawes immediately difpatched 
 a meflenger, who found Dr. Fordyce at home, and 
 who waited on Dr. Goldfmith direclly. 
 
 Dr. Fordyce reprefented to him the impropriety 
 taking the powders in his then fituation ; but 
 he was deaf to all remonftrances, and unhappily 
 perfifted in his own refolution. 
 
 On Saturday morning, March 26, Mr. Hawes 
 vifited his patient, whom he found extremely re- 
 duced, and his pulfe was now become very quick 
 B z and
 
 t6 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH, 
 and fmall. When he enquired of him how he did, 
 Dr. Goldfmith fighed deeply, and in a very low 
 voice faid, He wiflied he had taken his friendly 
 advice laft night.' 
 
 Dr. Fordyce perceiving the danger or Dr. d 
 imith's fituation, defired Mr. Hawes to propofe 
 fendinr- for Dr. Turton, of whom he knew Dr. 
 Goldfmith had a great opinion: the propofal being 
 mentioned to Dr. Goldfmith, he very readily con- 
 fented, and ordered his fcrvant to go directly. The 
 Doctors Fordyce and Turton met at the time ap- 
 pointed to aflift at a confultation, which was conti- 
 nued twice a^ay, till the dilbrder terminated in his 
 diffolution, on the fourth day of April 1774. in the 
 forty-fifth year of his age. 
 
 His friends, who we re very numerous and relp 
 table, had determined to bury him in Weftminfter- 
 abbey : his pull was to have been fupportedby Lord 
 Shelburne, Lord Louth, Sir Jofhua Reynolds, the 
 Hon. Mr. Beauclerc, Mr- Edmund Burke, and 
 Mr. Garrick; but from fome unaccountable cir- 
 cumftances this defign was dropped, and his remains 
 were privately depofited in the Temple buruil- 
 ground, on Saturday the 9 th of April; when Mr. 
 Hugh Kelley, Melfrs. John and Robert Day, Mr. 
 Palmer, Mr. Etherington, and Mr. Hawes, gen- 
 tlemen, who had been his friends iu life, attended 
 his corpfe as mourners, and paid the laft tribute to 
 his memory. 
 
 A fubfcription, however, was afterwards raiie 
 by his friends, to defray the expcnce of a marble 
 monument, which was executed by Mr. Nollikens, 
 an eminent ftatuary in London, and placed in Welt- 
 ininfter-abby, between Gay's monument and the 
 Duke of Argyle's, in the Poets corner. It confifts 
 pf a large medallion, exhibiting a very good like- 
 nefs of the Doclor, embellifhed with literary orna- 
 ments, underneath which ii a tablet of white marble, 
 with the following Latin infcription, written by his 
 
 friei.d Dr, Samuel Johnfon : 
 
 OLIV -AR*
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 17 
 
 OLIVARI GOLDSMITH 
 
 Poetae. Phyfici. Hiftorici. 
 
 Qin nullum fere fcribsndi genus 
 
 Non tetigit. 
 
 Nullurr quod tetigit non ornavit 
 Sive Rifus eflent movendi 
 
 Sive Lacrymze. 
 
 Affe&uum potens at lenis Domlnator 
 Ingenio fublinnis Vividus Verfatilig 
 
 Oratione grandis nitidus Venuftus 
 
 Hoc Monumentum Memoriam coluit 
 
 Sodalium Amor 
 
 Amicorum Fides 
 
 Leftorum Veneratio 
 
 Natus Hibernia Forniz Lonfordienfit 
 
 In Loco cui Nomen Pallas 
 
 Nov. xxix. MDCCXXX!. 
 
 Eblanse Literis inftitutui 
 
 Obiit Londini 
 April iv. MDCCLXXIV. 
 
 Trenjlation, 
 This Monument is raifed 
 
 To the Memory of 
 
 OLIVER GOLDSMITH, 
 
 Poet, Natural Philofopher, and 
 
 Hiftorian, 
 Who left no fpecies of writing untouched^ 
 
 or, 
 
 Unadorned by His Pen, 
 Whether to move laughter, 
 
 Or draw tears : 
 He was a powerful mafter 
 
 Over the arrcdlions, 
 
 Though at the fame time a gentle tyrant ; 
 Of a genius at once fublime, lively, and 
 
 Equal to every fubjecl : 
 
 Jn expreflion at once noble, 
 
 Pure and delicate. 
 
 His Memory will laft 
 
 As long as fbciety retains aflfecVion ; 
 
 Friendfliip is not void of Honour, 
 And Reading wants not her admirers. 
 He wa; born in the kingdom of Ireland, 
 
 B.I At
 
 fg MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 
 
 At Femes, in the province 
 
 Of" Leimler, 
 Where Pallas had ftt her namr, 
 
 29th Nov. 1731. 
 
 He was educated at Dublin, 
 
 Arid died in London, 
 
 4th April, 1774. 
 
 As to his character, it is firongly illutfrated by 
 
 Mr. Pope's line, 
 ' In wit a man, limpticity a child.' 
 The learned leifuie he loved to enjoy was too 
 often interrupted by dirtrefTes which arofe from the 
 opennefs of his temper, and which fometimes threw 
 him into loud fits of paflion ; but this impetuofity 
 was corrected upon a moment's reflection, and his 
 lervants have been known upon thefe occafions pur 
 pofely to throw themfelves in his wav, that they 
 nriffht profit by it immediately after, for he who 
 had the good fortune to be reproved was certain of 
 being rewarded for it. His di/appointments at other 
 times made him peevifhand fullen, and he has often 
 ft a party of convivial friends abruptly in the 
 evening, m order to go home and brood over his 
 misfortunes. 
 
 The univerfal I efteem in which his poems are held, 
 and the repeated pleafure they give in the perufal, 
 are (Inking proofs of their merit. He was a Ldious 
 and correct obferver of nature, happy in the felec- 
 tio of his images, in the choice of hisfubjefts, and 
 emW ?Tr y f - 1IS Verfific:itio '- ^d, though his 
 dfSTtK ^ P/ evented him from putting 
 
 the la,l hand to many of his productions, hhOer*% 
 
 and 
 
 ns, er* 
 
 - ' andhls ^/^^^//^, bid fair to 
 
 EngH,h a"^.^. ^ " ^^ P"" 5 in the 
 The excellent poem of Retaliation was only in- 
 SS%* the Doctor's private aniufemcnt, and 
 that of the partmilar friends who were its fubiecl 
 and he unfortunately did not live to revifr, or even 
 Snift it m the manner which he intruded. The 
 poem owed its birth to fome rrccedin^ riivi.mfr-,n,
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 17 
 cf feftive merriment at a literary club, to which the 
 Doctor belonged, and wlvo propofed to write epi- 
 taphs en him. He was called on for retaliation, and 
 at their next meeting produced the poem. 
 
 The lad work of this ingenious author, was 'An 
 liifiory of the Earth and Animated Nature,' in 8 vols. 
 SVQ. for which production his bookleller paid him 
 S>5ol. The doctor feems to have confidered atteHtivc- 
 ly the works of the feveral authors who have wrote 
 on this fubjett. If there ftiuuld not be a great deal 
 of difcovery, or new matter, yet a judicious felec- 
 tion from abundant materials is no fmall praife, 
 and if the experiments and difcoveries of other 
 writers are laid open in an agreeable drefs, fo pleaf- 
 rng as to allure the young reader into a purluit of 
 this fort of know ledge, we have no fmall obligations 
 to this very engaging writer. 
 
 Our author profefles to have hat! a tafte rather 
 cTafTical than fcientific, and it was in the ftudy of the 
 claflics, that he firft caught the defire of attaining a 
 knowledge of nature. Pliny firft infpired him, and 
 he refolved to translate that agreeable writer, and 
 by the help of a commentary to make his tranllation 
 acceptable to the public. 
 
 It is not to be queftioned that Dr. Goldfmith, had 
 Jie followed that plan, would have marked out thole 
 inaccuracies and extravagancies, into which an eafy 
 credulity, or a want of attention, or the little pro- 
 grefs ot fcience in the world, in his age, had feduced 
 his original author, and are the blemifhes of that 
 ingenious, inquifitive, and laboticus writer. Nor 
 are his abilities fefs confpicuous in his poetic than 
 his profaic productions. 
 
 To attempt to convey a proper idea of his great 
 genius in the former, would be a talk to which v.e 
 muft acknowledge ourfelvrs totally incompetent: 
 their beauties cannot be pictured by relation; they 
 can only be known by his writings, of which, as 
 freciruens. we (hall infcrt the following extracts: 
 
 TUK
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 
 
 THE COUNTRY CLERGYMAN. 
 
 Fr m the De f erted Village. 
 
 A Hn > * aren m 
 
 And ftill where many a garden-flower grows wi d ; 
 
 Cr v-,r u 3 f T t0rn fhmb3 ths P )ace difc ifc' 
 Ihe V,llage-Preacher's modeft manfion rofe. 
 A man he was, to all the country dear, 
 And pafling rich with forty pounds a year- 
 Remote from towns he ran his godly race ' 
 
 lT C ' 1 ' ad k cha "' d > no r wlfh'd to change his places 
 Vnpraflis'd he to fawn, or leek for power, 
 By doclr.nes fa/hion'd to the varying hour; 
 Far other aims his heart had harn'd to prize, 
 More fc:ll to ra,fe the wretched, than to rife. 
 His houfe was known to ail the vagrant train, 
 He c ,d the.r wand'rings, but reliev'd their pain : 
 The long-remember'd beggar was his gueft, 
 Whofe beard defending, f wpt his aged bread: 
 The rum d fpendthrift, now no longer proud, , 
 Claim d kindrcJ I there, and had his claim aliow'd ; 
 The broken foldier, kindly bade to ftay 
 Sat by his fi e, and talk'd the night away : 
 Wept o er his wounds, or, tales of forrow done, 
 
 piSf" >,l CrUtCh A and aew ' d how field ^ were won. 
 
 eas d w,th h, s guefts, the good man learn'd to glow, 
 And qu.te forgot their vices in their woe; 
 tarelefs their merits, or their faults to fcan, 
 His pity gavj er: charity b-rg:n. 
 Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, 
 And e en his failings lea.rd to Vir:ue's fide; 
 
 t Jn his duty prompt, at every call 
 He watchM and wept, he pray'd ad felt, foral.'; 
 And, as a bird each fond endearm-nt tries, 
 To tsmpt its new-fledg'd cff,pri ng to the Ikies, 
 
 e try d each art, reprov'd each dull deiav, 
 AJiur d to brighter worlds, and led the way. 
 
 Ode the bed where parting life was laid, 
 AM forrow, guilt, and pain, by turns difmav'd 
 I he rev rtnd champion (food. At his controul, 
 3ef pJ!r and an.ui/n fl-d the ftruggling fouls 
 Comfort carne down, the trembling wretch to wife, 
 And his la-.t falfring r.ccents whlfper'd praif-. 
 
 hurch, with meek and un.ffeiied grace, 
 H;s looks adora'd the venerable place j
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH, n 
 
 Truth from his lips prevail'^ wiih double fway, 
 And fools, who came to fc( ff, rernair.'d to pray. 
 The fervice pift, around the pi us man, 
 With fteady zeal, each honett * ft'x ran ; 
 Z'en children foll.w'd with en<.c..ring wile, 
 And pluck' d his gown to fhare the go;>d man's fmi'd 
 His ready fmile a Parent's warm h expreft, 
 Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares diftrtft ; 
 To them his heart, his love, h ; s griefs were given, 
 But all his ferioui thoughts had reft in heaven. 
 As fome tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, 
 Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the (loim> 
 Tho* round its breaft the rolling clouds are IpreaJ, 
 Eternal funfhine fettles on its head. 
 
 THE COUNTRY ALEHOUSE. 
 
 From the Deftned Village. 
 NEAR yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high. 
 Where once the fign-poft caught the patting eye, 
 Low lies that houfe where nut-brown draught* infpir'd, 
 Where grey-beard Mirth and fmilirg Toil retir'dj 
 Where Village- State fmen talk'd with locks profound. 
 And news much older than their ale went round. 
 Invgination fondly (loops to trace. 
 The parlour-fplendcurs of that feflive plare; 
 The white- walh'd wall, the nicely -fanued floor,- 
 The varnifli'd clock that click'd behind the door} 
 The cheft contriv'd a double debt to pay, 
 A bed by night, a cheft of dmwers by day; 
 The picture plac'd for ornament and ufr, 
 The Twelve Good Rules, the Royal Game cf Gorfr ; 
 The health, except when Winter chill'd the day, 
 With afpen boughs, and flowers, and fennel gay ^ 
 While broken tea-cups, wifely kept for {how, 
 Rang'd o'er the chimney, gliften'd in a row. 
 
 Vain tranfitcry fplrr.dours ! Cnuld not all 
 Reprieve the fnt'rmg. manfion from its fall ? 
 Obfcme it finks, nor fha'l it mere impart 
 An hour's importance to the poor nun's heart; 
 Thither, no ttiore, the peafant ihall repair, 
 To fweet cb.iviun of his daily carej 
 No more th farmer's news, tLe barbrr's tale, 
 No mere ihe uoocm^n's balid ihdll prevu:i; 
 
 No
 
 M MEI ^ OIRS F DR. GOLDSMITH 
 
 No more the fmith his du/ky brow /hall clear, 
 Relax hispondrous ftrength, and lean to hearj 
 The hoft himfelf no longer mall be f oun i 
 Careful to fee the marking blifs go round: 
 
 ' 
 
 ,,, d > half Willi "g to be preft ' 
 
 Shall kjfc the cup to pafs it to the reft. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE TRAVELLER. 
 
 REMOTE, unfriended, melancholy, flow, 
 Or by the lazy Scheld, or wandering Po: 
 On onward, where the rude Corinthian boor 
 Agamft the houfelefs ftranger fhuts the door r 
 Or where Campania's plain forfaken lies, 
 Aweary wafte expanding to the /kies: 
 Where er I roam, whatever realms to fee, 
 My heart untravell'd fondiy turns to thee 
 
 And dr a my br ther tUrnS> WUh ceafe:efs P aln 
 Eternal bleflings crown my eariie^'frfend!" 1 " 
 And round his dwelling guardian faints attend ; 
 Bleft be that fpot where cheerful guefts retire 
 To paufe from toil, and trim their evening fire ; 
 Bleft that abode, where want and pain repair, ' 
 And every ftranger finds a ready chair 
 
 wf ^ n h u fe fafts Wkh fonp'e Plenty" crown'd. 
 Where all the ruddy family around * 
 
 Laugh at the jefts or pranks that never fail, 
 
 r %h i with pity at lome mournful tale : 
 Or prefs the ba/hful ftranger to his food, 
 And learn the luxury of doing good. 
 But me, not deftined fuch delights to ftare, 
 prime m l.fe in wandering fpentand care; 
 
 'd, with fteps unceafing to purA:e 
 Th 3f ," tlr ^ ood ' that cks me with the view: 
 
 *^^W^t^*^ 
 
 My f rt une leads to traverfe realms alone, 
 And find no fpot of all the world my own 
 
 where Alpine foiitudes afccnd. 
 a penfive hour to fpend j 
 
 AnJf
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. GOLDSMITH. 33 
 
 And, plac'd on high above the ftorm's career, 
 Look downward where an hundred realms appear j 
 Lakes, forefts, cities, plains extending wide, 
 The pomp of kings, the fliepherd's humbler pride. 
 
 When thus Creation's charms around combine, 
 Amidft the ftore, flinuld thanklefs pride repine ? 
 Say, ihould the philofophic mind difdain 
 That good which makes each humbler bofom vain ? 
 Let fcno-1-taught pride diOemble ail it can, 
 Thefe little things are great to little man j 
 And wifer he, whole fympathetic mind 
 Exults in all the good of all mankind. 
 Ye glittering towns, with wealth and fplendor crown'd} 
 Ye fields, where fummer fpreads profufion round j 
 Ye lakes, whofe veflels catch the bufy gale j 
 Ye bending fwains, that drefs the flowery vale; 
 For me your tributary (lores combine : 
 Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine. 
 
 As fome lone mifer, vifiting his ftore, 
 Bencs at his treafure, counts, recounts it o'er j 
 Hoards after hoards his riling raptures fill, 
 Yetftill he fighs, for hoards are wanting ftill : 
 Thus to my brealt alternate paflions rife, 
 Plcas'd with each good that heaven to man fupplies i 
 Yet oft a figh prevails, and forrows fill, 
 To fee the hoard of human blifs fo finall j 
 And oft I wift, amidft the fcen-, to find 
 Some.fpot to real happinefs cunlign'd, 
 Where my worn foul, each wandering hope at rcft| 
 May gather blifs to fee my fellows bleft. 
 
 But where to find that hapsieft fpot below, 
 Who can direct, when all ptetend to know ? 
 The Ihuda'ring tenant of the frigid .zone 
 Boldly proclaims that happieft fpot his own ; 
 Ex'.oU his treafures of the ftormy feas, 
 And his long nights of revelry and cafe; 
 The naked negro, panting at the line, 
 Boalts of his golden fands and palmy wine, 
 Baflcsin the glare, or ftems the tepid wave, 
 And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. 
 Such is the patriot's boaft, where'er we roam, 
 His liar, belt country, ever it at home.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 npHERE are an hundred faults in this Thing, and 
 an hundred things might be faid to prove them 
 beauties. But it is needlefs. A book ma/ be 
 aniufmg with numerous errors, or it may be very 
 dull without a fingle abfurdity. The hero of this 
 piece unites in himfelf the three greateft characters 
 upon earth ; he is a prieft, an hufbandman, and a 
 father of a family. He is drawn as ready to teach, 
 and ready to obey, as fimple in affluence, and ma- 
 jeftic in adverfity. In this age of opulence and re- 
 finement, who can fuch a charader pleafe ? Such as 
 are fond of high life will turn with difdain from 
 the Simplicity of his country fire -fide ; fuch as mif- 
 take ribaldry for humour will find no wit in his 
 harmlefs converfation ; and fuch as have been taught 
 to deride religion will laugh at one whcfe chief 
 Cores of comfort are drawn from futurity. 
 
 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 The dffcriptlon of the family of Wakefield, in ivbicb 
 a kindred likenefs prevails as --well of 
 minds as of perfons. 
 
 I WAS ever of opinion that the honeft man, who 
 married and brought up a large family, did 
 more fervice than he who continued finale, and 
 only talked of population. From this motive, I 
 had fcarce taken orders a year, before I began to 
 think ferioully of matrimony, and chofe my wife 
 as fhe did her wedding gown, not for a fine gloflTy 
 furface, but fuch qualities as would wear well. 
 To do her juftice, fhe was a good natured notable 
 woman ; and as for breeding, there were few 
 country ladies who could fhew more. She could 
 read any Englifh book without much fpelling; but 
 for pickling, preferving and cookery, none could 
 excel her. She prided herfelf alfo upon being are 
 excellent contriver in houfe-keeping ; though I 
 could never find that we grew richer with all her 
 contrivances. 
 
 However, we loved each other tenderly, and our 
 fondnefs increafed as we grew old. There was in 
 fa<5l nothing that could make us angry with the 
 world or each other. We had an elegant houi'e, 
 fituated in a fine country, and a good neighbour- 
 hood. The year was (pent in a moral or rural 
 amufeinent ; in vifiting our rich neighbours, and 
 relieving fuch as were poor. We had no revolu- 
 tions to fear, nor fatigues to undergo ; all our ad- 
 ventures were by the fire-fide, and all our migra- 
 tions from the blue bed to the brown. 
 
 As we lived near the road, we often had the tra- 
 veller or ftranger viiit us to talk our goofe berry 
 C wine,
 
 16 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 wine, for which we had great reputation ; and JD 
 profefs, with the veracity of an hiftorian, that I 
 never knew one of them find fault with it. Our 
 coufins too, even to the fortieth remove, all re- 
 membered their affinity, without any help from the 
 herald's office, and came very frequently to fee us. 
 Some of them did us no great honour by thefe 
 claims of kindred ; as we had the blind, the maimed 
 and the halt, amongrt the number. However, my 
 wife always iniifted that as they were the fame flcjh 
 and blood, they mould fit with us at the fame table. 
 So that if we had not very rich, we generally had 
 very happy friends about us ; for this remark will 
 holdgood through life, that the poorer theguelt the 
 better pleafed he ever is with being treated; and as 
 fome men gaze with admiration at the colours of a 
 tulip, or the wing of a butterfly, fo I was by nature 
 an admirer of happy human faces. However, when 
 any one of our relations was found to be a perfon of 
 a very bad character, a troublefome gueft, or one 
 we defired to get rid of, upon his leaving my hoiife, 
 1 ever took care to lend him a riding-coat, or a pair 
 of boots, or fometimes an horfe of fmall value, and 
 I always had the fatisfaction ot 'finding he never came 
 back to return them. By this the houie \\ascleared 
 of fiich as we did not like ; but never was the family 
 of Wakefield known to turn the traveller or the 
 poor dependant out of doors. 
 
 Thus we lived feveral years in a ftate of much 
 haupinefs, not but that we fometimes had thofe 
 little nibs which Providence fends to enhance the 
 value of its favours. My orchard was often rob- 
 bed by fchool-boys, and my wife's cuftards plun- 
 dered by the cats or the children. The Iquire 
 would fometimes fall afleep in the moft pathetic 
 parrs of my fermon, or his lady return my wife's 
 civilities at church with a mutilated curtfey. But 
 we foon got over the uneafinefs caufed. by fuch 
 accidents, and ufually in three or four days boi/un 
 to wonder how thev vcxt us. 
 
 My
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 27 
 
 My children, the offspring of temperance, as 
 fliey were educated without foftnefs, fo they were 
 at once well formed and healthy ; my Tons hardy and 
 active, my daughters beautiful and blooming. 
 When I flood in the midft of the little circle, 
 which promifed to be the fupports of rny declining 
 age, I could not avoid repeating the famous llory 
 of Count Abenfberg, who, in Henry II,'s pro- 
 grefs through Germany, while other courtiers came 
 with their treafures, brought his thirty-two children 
 and prefented them to his fovereijjn as the moft 
 "valuable offering he had to beflow. In this man- 
 ner, though I had but fix, I coniideml them as a 
 very .valuable prefent made to my country, and 
 confcquently looked upon it as my debtor. Our 
 eldeft fon was named George after his uncle, who 
 left us ten thoufaad pounds. Our fecond child, 
 a girl, I intended to call after her aunt Griflel; 
 but my wife, who during her pregnancy had IK\ a 
 reading romances, infilied upon her being called 
 Olivia. In lefs than another year we had another 
 daughter, and now I was determined that Grilfel 
 Should be her name; but a rich relation taking 
 a fancy to Hand godmother, the girl was, by her 
 directions, called Sophia; fo that we had two 
 romantic names in the family; but I folemnly 
 proteft I had no hand in it. Mofes was our next; 
 and after an interval of twelve years, we had two 
 ions more. 
 
 It would be fruitlefs to deny my exultation when 
 I faw my little ones about me ; but the vanity and 
 the fatistaiSiion of my wife were even greater than, 
 mine. When our vifitors would fay, ' Well, up- 
 on my word, Mrs. Primrofe, you have the fined 
 children in the whole country.' ' Ay, r. 
 bour,' fhe would anfwer, * they are as Heaven 
 made them, handfome enough, if they be good 
 enough ; for handfome is, that handfome does.' 
 And then fhe would bid the girls hold up their 
 Leads j who, to conceal nothing, were certainly 
 C a very
 
 a* VICAR OF WAKEFJELD. 
 
 very handfome. Mere outfide is fo very trifling 
 a circumttancewith me, that I mould fcarce havf 
 remembered to mention it, hud it not been a ^. 
 leral topic of converfetion in the country Oh' 
 via, now about eighteen, had that luxuriancv of 
 beauty with which painters generally draw Hebe ; 
 open, fpnghtly, and commanding. Sophia's 
 features were not fo Diking at firff; but often 
 d more certain execution ; for they were foft, 
 rnodert and alluring. The one vanquifhed bv 
 
 repeafed "^ b> ' Cff rtS ^ uccefsfuil y 
 
 The temper of a woman is generally formed 
 from the turn of her features, 5 leaft it waTib 
 with my daughters. Olivia wifhed for many 
 lovers Sophia to fecure one. Olivia was often ' 
 
 fleded from too great a defire to pleafe. Sorhia 
 even reprtft excellence, from her fears to offend. 
 The one entertained me with her vivacity when I 
 was gay, the oilier with her fenfe when I was fe- 
 nous. But thefe qualities were never carried to 
 excefs in either, and I have often fecn then: ex- 
 change cliaracters for a whole day together A fuit 
 of mourning has transformed my coquet into a prude 
 and a new fet of ribbands has given her yoWcft 
 fifter more than natural vivacity. My el'delt Ton 
 George was bred at Oxford; as I intended him 
 tor one of the learned profeflions. M v f econ d boy, 
 Mofes whom I defigned for bufmefs, received 'a 
 lort of mifcellaneous education at home. But it is 
 needlefs to attempt describing the particular charac- 
 ters of young people that had fcen but very little of 
 e world, in fhort, a family likenefs prevailed 
 through all ; and, properly fpeaking, thev Juid but 
 one characler, that of being a ]| eqiiallv irencrous. 
 credulous, Jjniple, and inoil'eniive. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 29 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Family misfortunes. The lofs of fortune onlyfcrves / 
 increafc the fridf of the nuortby. 
 
 TH E temporal concerns of our family were 
 chiefly committed to my wife's management ; 
 as to the fpiritual, I took them entirely under my 
 own direction. The profits of my living, which 
 amounted to about thirty-five pounds a year, I made 
 over to the oq^hans and widows of the clergy of our 
 diocefe ; for having a fufficient fortune of my own, 
 I was carelefs of temporalities, and felt a fecret 
 pleafure in doing my duty without a reward. I 
 alfo fet a refolution of keeping no curate, and of 
 being acquainted with every man in the parifli, ex- 
 horting the married men to temperance, and the 
 batchelors to matrimony j fo that in a few years it 
 was a common faying, that there were three ftrangc 
 wants at Wakefield, a parfon wanting pride, young 
 men wanting wives, and alehoufes wanting cui- 
 tomers. 
 
 Matrimony was always one of my favourite 
 topitks, and I wrote feveral fermons to prove its 
 happinefs : but there was a peculiar tenet which 
 I made a point of fupporting ; for I maintained with 
 Whifton, that it was unlawful for a prieft of the 
 church of England, after the death of his firft wife, 
 to take a fecond ; or to cxprefs it in one word, I 
 valued myfelf upon being a ftridt monogamift. 
 
 I was early initiated into this important difpute, 
 on which fo many laborious volumes have been 
 written. I publifhed fome tracts upon the fubject 
 myfelf, which, as they never fold, I have the con- 
 folation of thinking are read only by the happy fe e w. 
 Some of my friends called this my weak fide ; but 
 alas ! they had not like me made it the fubjedt of 
 long contemplation. The more I reflected upon it, 
 the more important it appeared. I even went a ftep 
 beyond Whilton in difplaying my principles: as he 
 had engraven upon his wife's tojjib that ibe was th
 
 3 VICAR OF WAKEI-IELD. 
 
 *fy wife of William Whifton ; f I wrote 
 epitaph for my wife, though 'flffl Jivi 
 
 iirilth rrr dence ' ^ onom * 
 
 SenS^r^"**^ " C P ied > a,i 
 
 elegant frame u was placed over the chimwev 
 
 piece, where it anfwered feveral very ufef S" 
 
 Jnd"' I L a ? m0nifl i. ed ^y^eof her duty o^e" 
 and my fidehty to her; it infpired her with a S 
 Hn for fame, and conflantly put herin mind of^er 
 
 It was thus, perhaps, from hearing marrJare fh 
 often recommended, that my eldefi fon Tuft upon 
 leaving college , fixed his affections upon thedauXer 
 of a reighbourmg clerpyman, who Was a S" 
 in the church, and in circumftances to ^i 
 large fortune: but fortune was her 
 o 
 
 as er 
 comp iftment. Mif s Arabella Wihnot 
 
 P em (e H2 r niy r*- ^? 11 ^ to b 
 
 S? M ,l : ^ /u Uth) healfh and innocence, were 
 ftll Jieightened by a complexion fo tranfnarent and 
 fuch an happy fenfibilitv of look, as evSe cou M 
 not gaze on with indifference. As Mr Wil 
 knew that I could make a very handfom fct tie en 
 on my fon, hewas not averfe'tp the match fo both 
 families lived together in all that iLmon'y vvh?ch 
 generally precedes an expecled alliance BeS 
 
 " 
 
 lC ^ -r n r d 
 
 each others company, feemed to increaft their 
 
 - viu.ii picientea tlie 
 At dinner my wife took 
 - ...v. y, a ys infifted upon carving ev 
 
 r, it bein^ her mother's wav ibc %.VP 
 
 9J > *''- e*^ e u t 
 
 thefe
 
 VICAR OF WAKKFIELD. 31 
 
 thtfe occaiions the hiitory of every diih. When we 
 ha.l dined, to prevent the ladies leaving us, I gene- 
 rally ordered the table to be removed ; and fome- 
 times, with the mulic-maltcr's affiUance, the girls 
 would give us a very agreeable concert. \Valking 
 out, drinking tea, country dances, and forfeits, 
 fliDrtened the reft of the day, without the afliftance 
 of cards, as I hated all manner of gaming, except 
 backgammon, at which my old friend and I lome- 
 times took a two penny hit. Nor can I here pafs 
 over an ominous circumttancc that happened the 
 laft time we played together ; 1 only wanted to 
 fling a quatre, and yet I threw duce ace five times 
 running. 
 
 Some months were elapfed in this manner, till at 
 laft it was thought convenient to fix a day for the 
 nuptials of the young couple, who feeined earneiHy 
 to delire it. During the preparations for the wed- 
 ding, I need notdefcribe the bufy importance of my 
 v. ife, nor the fly looks of my daughters : in faft, my 
 attention was fixed on another object, the compleat- 
 ing a tradl which I intended fhortly to publim in de- 
 fence of my favourite principle. As 1 looked upon 
 this as a mafter-piece both for argument and ftyle, 
 I could not in the pride of my heart avoid (hewing 
 it to my old friend Mr. Wilmot, as I made no 
 doubt of receiving his approbation: but not till too 
 late, I difcovered that he was moft violently at- 
 tached to the contrary opinion, and with good rea- 
 fon ; for he was at that time actually courting a 
 fourth wife. This, as may be expected, produced a 
 difpute attended with fome acrimony, which threat- 
 ened to interrupt our intended alliance ; but on the 
 day before that appointed fc:r the ceremony, we 
 agreed to difcufs the fubject at large. 
 
 It was managed with proper fpirir on both fides; 
 he aflertcd that I was heterodox, I returned the 
 charge : he replied, and I rejoined. In the mean 
 time, while the controverfy was hotteft, I was 
 called out by one of my relations,' who, with a 
 
 fact
 
 32 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 fff,/f ni nCern V a ? vifed 5?? to 8*e up the difpute, 
 at leaft till my fans wedding was over How ' 
 cried 1, ' relinquish the caufe of truth, and let him 
 be an hufband, already driven to the ver^e of 
 abfiirdity. You might as well advife me tcfrive 
 up my fortune as my argument.' 'Your for 
 tune, returned my friend, < I am now forry to 
 inform you, is almoft nothing. The merchant 
 in town, in whofe hands your money was lodged 
 has gone off, to avoid a ftatuteof bankniptcy, and 
 is thought not ,to have left a milling in the pound 
 I was unwilling to fhock you or the family with 
 the account, till after the wedding: but now it 
 may ferve to moderate your warmth in the arcu- 
 ment; for I fuppofe your own prudence will en- 
 orce the neceffity of diiTembling, at leaft till your 
 Ion has the young lady's fortune fecure ' Well ' 
 returned I, ' If what you tell me be true, and if I 
 am to be a beggar, it /hall never make me arafcal, 
 or induce me to difavow my principles. I'll <TQ 
 
 is moment and inform the company of mv cir 
 cumftances : and as for the argument, I even here 
 etract my former conceflions in the old gentle 
 man s favour, nor will I allow him now to be an 
 nufband in any fenfe of the expreflion.' 
 . It would be endlefsto defcribe the different fenfa 
 tions of both families, when I divulged the news of 
 our misfortune ; but what others felt was flight to 
 what the lovers appeared to endure. Mr. W3mot 
 who feemed before fufficiently inclined to break off 
 the match, was by this blow f'bori determined one 
 virtue he had in perfeftion, which was prudence ; 
 Jo often the only one that is left us at feventy, 
 two. "
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 33 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 A migration. The fortunate cireumjlances of our 
 lives are generally found at lajl t 
 be of our own procuring. 
 
 '"THE only hope of our family now was, that the 
 ^ report of our misfortunes might be malicious or 
 premature : but a letter from my agent in town foon 
 came with a confirmation of every particular. The 
 lufs of fortune to inyfelf alone would have been tri- 
 fling; the only uneafinefs 1 felt was fer my family, 
 \\Iio were to be humbled without an education to 
 render them callous to contempt. 
 
 Near a fortnight had parted before I attempted to 
 retrain their affliction ; for premature confolation is 
 but the remembrance of forrow. During this inter- 
 val, my thoughts were employed on fome future 
 means of fupporting them ; and at laft a fmall cure 
 of fifteen pounds a year was offered me in a diftant 
 neighbourhood, where I could (till enjoy my prin- 
 ciples without moleftation. With this propolal I 
 joyfully clofed, having determined to increafe my 
 falary, by managing a little farm. 
 
 Having taken this refolution, my next care was to 
 get together the wrecks of my fortune ; and all debts 
 collected and paid, out of fourteen thoufand pounds 
 we had but four hundred remaining. My chief at- 
 tention, therefore, was now to bring down the pride 
 of my family to their circumftances ; for I well 
 knew that afpiring beggary is uretchednefs itfelf. 
 You cannot be ignorant, my children,' cried I, 
 that no prudence ofours could hnveprevented our 
 lute misfortune ; but prudence may do much in 
 difappointing it's effects. We arc now poor, my 
 fondlings, mid wil'dom bids us conform to our 
 humble fituation. Let us then, without repining, 
 give up thofe fplendours with which numbers are 
 wretched, and feek in humbler circumftances, 
 that peace with which all may be happy. The 
 
 * poor
 
 34- VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * poor live pleafantly without our help; why then 
 fliould not we learn to live without theirs ? ISo, 
 my children, let us from this moment give up all 
 pretentious to gentility ; we have ftill enough left 
 for happinefs if we are wife, and let us draw upon 
 content for the deficiencies of fortune.' 
 As my elded fon was bred a Scholar, I determined 
 to fend him to town, where his abilities might con- 
 tribute to our fupportand his own. The reparation 
 of friends and families is, perhaps, one of the 
 moft diftrefsful circumstances attendant on penury. 
 The day foon arrived on which we were to difperfe 
 for the firft time. 1 My fon, after taking leave of 
 his mother and the reft, who mingled their tears 
 with their kiSTes, came to afk a blefling from me. 
 Tli is I gave him from my heart, and which, added 
 to five guineas, was all the patrimony I had to be- 
 Itow. * You are going, my boy, 1 cried I, ' to Lon- 
 don on foot, in the manner Hooker, your great an- 
 ceftor, travelled there before you. Take from me 
 the lame horie that was given him by the good Bi- 
 Ihop Jewel, this Staff, and take this book too, it 
 will be your comfort on the way : thefe two lines 
 in it are worth a million ; 1 have been young, and 
 no~vj am old ; yet never feeva I the righteous man for- 
 faken, or bis feed begging ibelr bread. Let this be 
 your confolation as you travel on. Go, my boy, 
 whatever be thy fortune, let me fee thee once a 
 year; ftill keep a good heart, and farewell.' As 
 he was polfeft of integrity and honour, I was under 
 no apprehensions from throwing him naked into the 
 amphitheatre of life ; for I knew he would a<5t a 
 part, whether vanquished or victorious. 
 
 His departure only prepared the way for our own, 
 which arrived a few days afterwards. The leaving 
 a neighbourhood in which we had enjoyed fo many 
 hours of tranquillity, was not without a tear, which 
 fcarce fortitude itfelf could fupprefs. Belides, a 
 journey of feventy miles to a family that had hitherto 
 never been above ten from home, filled us with ap- 
 
 pre-
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 3? 
 
 prehenfion, and the cries of the poor, who followed 
 us fur fome miles, contributed to increafe it. The 
 firfl days journey brought us in fafety within thirty 
 miles of our future retreat, and we put up for the 
 night at an oblcure inn in a village by the way. 
 When we were (hewn a room, I delired the landlord, 
 in my ufual way, to let us have his company, with 
 which he complied, as what IK drank would encreafe 
 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 Jew miles of the 
 place. This gentleman he defcribed as one who 
 delired to know little more of the world than itj 
 pleafures, being particularly remarkable for his at- 
 tachment to the fair fex. He obferved, that no 
 virtue was able to refift his arts and affiduity, and 
 that fcarce a farmer's daughter within ten miles 
 round but what had found him fuccefsful and faith- 
 lefs. -Though this account gave me fome pain, it 
 had a very different effect upon my daughters, whofe 
 features leemed to brighten with the expectation of 
 an approaching triumph ; nor was my wife lei* 
 pleafed and confident of their allurements and vir- 
 tue. While our thoughts were thus employed, tlie 
 holiefs entered the room to inform her hutband, that 
 the ftrange gentleman, who had been two days in 
 the houfe, wanted money, and could not fatisfy tho-i 
 for his reckoning. 'Want money!' replied the 
 hoft, * that muft be impollible ; for it was no later 
 
 * than yefterday he paid three guineas to our beadle 
 
 * to (pare an old broken foldier that was to be 
 
 * whipped through the town for dog-ftealing.' The 
 hoftefs, however, ftiil pcr/ifting in her firft aiFertion, 
 he was preparing to leave the room, fwcaring that 
 he would be latisfied one way or another, when I 
 begged the landlord would introduce me to a fl ranger 
 of io much charity as he defcribed. With this he 
 complied, fhewing in a gentleman who feemed to be 
 about thirty, drcli in siothe* that once were laced. 
 
 Hi*
 
 3 6 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 His perfon was well formed, and his face marked 
 with the lines of thinking. He had fomeihing Ihort 
 and dry in Kis addrefs, and feenied not to underftand 
 ceremony, or to defpife it. Upon the landlord's 
 leaving the room, I could not avoid exprefling my 
 concern to the ftranger at feeing a gentleman in fuch 
 circumltances, and offered him my purle to fatisfy 
 the prelent demand. ' I take it with all my heart, 
 Sir, 1 replied he, 'and am glad that a lateoverfight 
 in giving what money 1 had about me, has fhe\* n 
 me, that there are Hill fome men like you. I muft, 
 however, previoully intreat being informed of the 
 name and refidence of my benefactor, in order to 
 repay him as foon as pofiible.' In this I fatisiied 
 him fully, not only mentioning my name and late 
 misfortune, but the place to which I was going to 
 remove. ' This,' cried he, happens Hill more lucky 
 ' than I hoped for, as I am going the lame way 
 ' myfc'lf, having been detained here two days by the 
 ' floods, which, I hope, by to-morrow, will be 
 * found paflable.' I teftified the pleafure I flioula 
 have in his company, and my wife and daughters 
 joining in intreaty, he was prevailed upon to (lay fup- 
 per. The Granger's conversation, which was at 
 once pleaiing and inllructive, induced me to wifh 
 for a continuance of it ; but it was now his time to 
 retire, and take refrefhment againft the fatigues of 
 the following day. 
 
 The next morning we all fet forward together: my 
 family on horfeback, while Mr Burchell our new 
 companion, walked along the foot-path by the road 
 lide, obferving with a fmile, that as we were ill 
 mounted, he would be too generous to attempt 
 leaving us behind. As the floods were not yet fub- 
 lided, 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 philofo- 
 phical difputes,- which he feemed to underftand per- 
 fectly. But what furprized me moft was, that 
 though lie wits a money-borrower, he defended his 
 
 opinion
 
 3 8 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 numbers difpofed to folicit : his profufions began 
 to impair his fortune, but not his good nature ; 
 that, indeed, was feen to increafe as the other 
 feemed to decay : he grew improvident as he grew 
 poor ; and though he talked like a man of fenfe, 
 his actions were thofe of a fool. Still, however, 
 being furrounded with importunity, and no longer 
 able to fatisfy every requeft that was made him, 
 inftead of money he gave promifes. They were all 
 he had to beftow, and he had not refolution enough 
 to give any man pain by a denial. By this he 
 drew round him crowds of dependants whom he 
 was fure to difappoint ; yet wifhed to relieve. 
 Thefe hung upon him for a time, and left him 
 with merited reproaches and contempt. But in 
 proportion as he became contemptible to others he 
 became defpicable to himfelfT His mind had 
 leaned upon their adulation, and that fupport 
 taken away, he could find no pleafure in the ap- 
 plaufe of his heart, which he had never learned to 
 reverence. The world now began to wear a dif- 
 ferent afpedt ; the flattery of his friends began to 
 dwindle into fimple approbation. Approbation 
 foon took the more friendly form of advice ; and 
 advice, when rejected, produced their reproaches. 
 He now, therefore, found that fuch friends as 
 benefits had gathered round him, were little efti- 
 mable ; he now found that a man's own heart 
 muft be ever given to gain that of another. I 
 now found, that that 1 forgot what I was going 
 to obferve : in (hort, Sir, he refolved to refpect 
 himfelf, and laid down a plan of reftoring his 
 falling fortune. For this purpofe, in his own 
 whimfical manner, he travelled through Europe 
 on foot, and now, though he has fcarce attained 
 the age of thirty, his circumftances are more afflu- 
 ent than ever. At prefent, his bounties are more 
 rational and moderate than before; but (till he 
 preferves the character of an humourin 1 , and finds 
 moft pleafure in eccentric virtues.' 
 
 . Mv
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 3f 
 
 My attention was fo much taken up by Mr. Bur- 
 chell's account, that 1 fcarce looked forward as we 
 went along, till we were alarmed by the cries of my 
 fam-iy; when turning, I 'perceived iny youngeit 
 daughter in themidftof a rapid ftream, thrown from 
 her horfe, and ftruggling with the torrent. She 
 had funk twice, nor was it in my power to difen- 
 gage myfelfin time to bring her relief. My fenfa- 
 tions were even too violent to permit my attempting 
 her refcue : (he muft have certainly perifhed, had 
 not my companion, perceiving her danger, inftantly 
 plunged in to her relief, and, with fome difficulty, 
 brought her in fafety to the oppofite more. By 
 taking the current a little farther up, the reft of the 
 family got fafely over ; where we had the opportuni- 
 ty of joining our acknowledgments to her's. Her gra- 
 titude may be more readUy imagined than defcribed : 
 ftie thanked her deliverer more with looks than 
 words, and continued to lean upon his arm, as if ftill 
 willing to receive affiftance. My wife alfo hoped 
 one day to have the pleafure of returning his kind- 
 nefs at her own houfe. Thus, after we were re- 
 frefhed 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 purfued our jour- 
 ney, my wife obferving, as we went, that ftie 
 liked him extremely, and protefting, that if he had 
 birth and fortune to entitle him to match into fuch a 
 family as our's, (he knew no man (he would (boner 
 fix upon. I could not but Imile to hear her talk in 
 this lofty (train : but I was never much difpleafed 
 with thofe harmlefs delufions that tend to make u 
 more happy. 
 
 D a CHAP,
 
 4.0 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 A proof that even the humbleft fortune may grant 
 
 bappinefs, 'which depends not on circum- 
 
 Jlances, but cenjiitution . 
 
 THE place of our retreat was in a little neighbour- 
 hood, confuting of farmers, who tilled their own 
 grounds, and were equal Grangers to opulence and 
 poverty. As they had almoft all the conveniences 
 of life within themfelvcs, they feldoin viiited towns 
 or cities in fearch of fuperfiuities. Remote from 
 the polite, they ftill retained the primaeval fimpliclty 
 of manners; and frugal by habit, they fcarce knew 
 that temperance was a virtue. They wrote with 
 chearfulnefs on days of labour; but obferved fefti- 
 vals as intervals of idiends and pleafure. They 
 kept up the Chriftmas carol, lent true-love knots on. 
 Valentine-morning, eat pancakes on Shrove-tide, 
 fhewed their wit on the firft of April, and religioufly 
 cracked nuts on Michaelmas-eve. Being apprized 
 of our approach, the whole neighbourhood came 
 out to meet their minilter, drelfed in their fine 
 clothes, and preceded by a pipe and tabor ; a teafl 
 alfo was provided for our reception, at which we 
 fat chearfully down ; and what the converfation 
 wanted in wit, was made up in laughter. 
 
 Our little habitation was fituated at the foot of a 
 fioping hill, flickered with a beautiful underwood 
 behind, and a pratling river before; on one lide a 
 meadow, on the other a green. My farm confifted 
 of about twenty acres of excellent land, having 
 given an hundred pounds for my predecellbr's good 
 will. Nothing could exceed the neatnefs of my 
 little enclofures. the elms and hedge-rows appearing 
 with inexpreflible beauty. My houfe confilled of 
 but one flory, and was covered with a thatch, which 
 gave it an air of great fnu^neis ; the walls on the iniide 
 were nicely white-warned, and my daughters under- 
 took to adorn them with pictures of their own de- 
 
 figaing.
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 4.1 
 
 Jlgnlng. Tho' the fame room ferved us for parlour 
 and kitchen, that only made it the warmer. Be- 
 lides, as it was kept with the utmoft neatnefs, the 
 dirties, plates, and coppers, being well fcoured, and 
 all difpofe'd in bright rows on the fhelves, the eye 
 was agreeably relieved, and did not want richer fur- 
 niture. There were three other apartments, one for 
 my wife and me, another for two daughters wifhin 
 our own, and the third, with two beds, for the reft 
 of the children. 
 
 The little republic to which I gave laws was regu- 
 lated in the fallowing manner: by fun-rife we all 
 aflembled in our common apartment, the fire being 
 previously kindled by the fervant: after we had 
 fainted each other with proper ceremony, for I al- 
 ways thought fit to keep up fome mechanical forms 
 of good- breed ing, without which freedom ever de- 
 ftroys friendfhip, we all bent in gratitude to that 
 Being who gave us another day. This duty being 
 performed, my fon and I went to purfue our ufual 
 indultry abroad, while my wife and daughters em- 
 ployed themfelves in providing breukfaft, 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 phiiofophical arguments, 
 between my fon and me. 
 
 As we role with the fun, fo we never purfued our 
 labour after it was gone down, but returned home 
 to the expecting fam'ly; where fmiling looks, a 
 neat hearth, and pleafant fire, were prepared for 
 our reception. Nor were we without guefls ; fome- 
 times Farmer Flamborough, our talkative nefgh- 
 bour, and often the blind piper, would pay us a 
 viiit, and tafte our goofe-berry wine; for the making 
 of which we had loll neither the receipt or the repu- 
 tation. Thefe harmlels people had feveral ways or 
 being good company; for while one played, the 
 other would fing (ome foothing ballad, Johnny 
 Armftrong's laft good-night, or the cruelty of Bar. 
 P 3 bara
 
 42 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 bara Allen. The night v.-as concluded in the man- 
 ner we began the morning, my youngeft boys being 
 appointed to read the lellbns of the day, and he that 
 read loudeft, diftincleft, and belt, was to have an 
 half-penny on Sunday to put into the poor's box. 
 
 When Sunday came, it was indeed a day of finery, 
 which all my fumptuary edicts could not reftrain. 
 How well foever I fanoed my lectures againft pride 
 had conquered the vanity of my daughters," yet I 
 ftill found them fecretly attached t-o all their former 
 finery : they flill loved laces, ribbands, bugles and 
 catgut ; my wife herfelf retained a paflion for her 
 crimfon paduafoy, becaufe I formerly happened to 
 fay it became her. 
 
 The fir ft Sunday in particular their behaviour 
 
 ferved to mortify me : I had delired my girls the 
 
 preced ; iig night to be dreft early the next day ; for 
 
 I always loved to be at church a good while before 
 
 the reft of the congregation. They punctually obeyed 
 
 my directions; but when we were to afTemble in the 
 
 morning at breakfaft, down came my wife and 
 
 daughters, dreft out in all their former fplendour, 
 
 their hair plaiftered up with pomatum, their faces 
 
 patched to tafte, their trains bundled up into an heap 
 
 behind, and ruftling at every motion. I could not 
 
 help Imiling at their vanity, particularly that of my 
 
 wife, from whom I expected more difcretion. la 
 
 this exigence, therefore, my only refource was to 
 
 order my Ion, with an important air, to call our 
 
 coach. The girls were amazed at the command ; 
 
 but I repeated it with more folemnity than before. 
 
 Surely, my dear, you jeft,' cried my wife, ' v e 
 
 can walk it perfectly well : we want no coach to 
 
 carry us now.' 'You miftake, child,' returned I, 
 
 we do want a coach; for if we walk to church in 
 
 this trim, the very children in the parifh w-ill hoot 
 
 after us.' 'Indeed' replied my wife, 'I always 
 
 imagined that my Charles was fond of feeing his 
 
 children neat and handfome about him' You may 
 
 b.e as neat as you pleale,' interrupted I. ' and I 
 
 ' ihall
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 43 
 
 fliall love you the better for it; but all this is not 
 neatnefs, but frippery. Thefe rufflings, and pink- 
 ings, and patchings, will only make us hated by 
 all the wives of our neighbours. Noniy children,* 
 ontinued I, more gravely, ' thofe gowns may be al- 
 tered into fomething of a plainer cut : fur finery is 
 very unbecoming in us, who want The means of 
 decency. I do not know whether fuch flouncing 
 and fhredding is becoming even in the r ; c!i, if we 
 confider, tipon a moderate calculation, that thena- 
 kednefs of the indigent world may be clothed from 
 * the trimmings of the vain.' 
 
 This remonftrance had the proper effect; they 
 went with great compofure, that very infunt, to 
 change their drefs ; and the next day I had the fatis- 
 faclion of finding my daughters, at their own requeft, 
 employed in cutting up their trains into Sunday 
 waiftcoats for Dick and Bill, the two little ones: and 
 what was (till more fatisfaciory, the gowns feemed 
 improved by this curtailing. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 A new and great acquaintance introduced. What tve 
 place mojl hopes upon generally proves mojl fatal. 
 
 A T a fmall di:1ance from the houfe my predeceflfor 
 ** had made a (eat, overfhaded by an hedge of haw- 
 thorn, and hcjney-fuckle. Here, when the weather 
 was fine, and our labour foon finiflied, weufually fat 
 together, to enjoy an extenfive landftape, in the 
 calm of the evening. Here too we drank tea, which 
 aow was become an occafional banquet ; and as we 
 had it but ieidom, it diffufed a new joy, the prepa- 
 rations lor it being made with no fmall" fliare of bcif- 
 tlf and ceremony. On thefc oceafions, our two 
 little ones always read for us, and thfey were regn- 
 l.irly fervud after we had done. Sometimes, to suve 
 :i \ariety to o;ir .nnufcments, the girls fung to the 
 .:iitur; and while- :luy thus formed a little concert, 
 ?:i> v.iieutjj I wculd firoll down the Hoping field, 
 
 that
 
 44 VICAR OF WA&EFIELD. 
 
 ftat was embelllfhed with blue bells and centaury, 
 talk of ( ur children with raoture, and enjoy the 
 breeze tl at -.vafted both health and harmony. 
 
 In this rrunner we began to find tha^every fitua. 
 tion in life may bring its own particular pleafures; 
 every morning waked us to a repetition of toil; but 
 the evening repaid it with vacantJiilarity. 
 
 It was abSut the beginning of autumn, on a holi- 
 day, for I kept fuch as intervals of relaxation from 
 labour, that I had drawn out my family to our ufual 
 place of amufement, and our young muliciaiis began 
 their ufual concert. As we were thus engaged, we 
 faw a flag bound nimbly by, within about twenty 
 paces of where we were fitting, and, by its pant ng, 
 it feemed preft by the hunters. We had not much 
 time to reflect upon the poor animal's diftrefs, when 
 we perceived the dogs and horfemen come Iweeping 
 along at fome diftance behind, and mak.ng the very 
 path it had taken. I was indantly for returning in 
 with my family ; but either curiofity or furprize, or 
 fome more hidden motive, held my wife and daugh- 
 ters to their feats. The huntfman, who rode fore- 
 moil, rait us with great fv\iftnefs, followed by four 
 or five perfons more, who feemed in equal hafte. At 
 . 1 tfl, a young gentleman of a more genteel appear- 
 ance than the reft, came forward, and for awhile 
 regarding us, inflead. of purfuing the chace, ftopt 
 fhort, and giving his horfe to a fervant who attended, 
 approached us witli a carelefs fuperior air. He 
 feemed to want no introduction, but was going to 
 fuiute my daughters as one certain of a kind recep- 
 tion ; biit they had early learnt the leflbn of looking 
 prefumption out of countenance. Upon which he 
 let us know that his name was The rnhil!, and that 
 he was owner of the eltate that lay for fome extent 
 round us. lie again, therefore, offered to faluts 
 the female part of the family; and inch was the 
 power of fortune and fine clothes, that he found no 
 fecond tepulfe. As his addrels, ikough confident, 
 was eafy, we foon became more familiar ; and per- 
 ceiving
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 45 
 
 seivine mufical inltruments lying near, l\c begged 
 to be favoured with a fong. As l did not approve 
 of fuch difproportioued acquaintance, I winked 
 upon my daughters, in order to prevent their com- 
 pliance; but my hint was counteracted by one from 
 their mother ; fo that with a cheerful air they gave 
 vis a favourite fong of Dry-den's. Mr. Thornhill 
 feemed highly delighted with their performance and 
 choice, and then took up the guitar himfelf. He 
 played but very indifferently ; however, my eldeft 
 daughter repaid his former applaufe with interefl, 
 and allured him that his tones were louder than 
 even thofe of her mailer. At this compliment he 
 bowed, which me returned with a curtiey- He 
 prailed her tafle, and (lie commended his under- 
 (tanding : an age could not have made them better 
 acquainted. While the fond mother too, equally 
 happy, infifled upon her landlord's flepping in, and 
 tatting a glais of her goofeberry. "i he whole family 
 feemed earned to pleafe him : niy girls attempted to 
 entertain him with topicks they thought molt mo- 
 dern ; while Mofes, on the contrary, gave him a 
 queftion or two from the ancients, for which he had 
 the fatisfaclion of being laughed at : my little ones 
 were no lefs bufy, and fondly (luck clofe to the 
 (Iranger. All my endeavours could fcarce keep 
 their dirty fingers from handling and tarnifhing the 
 lace on his clothes, and lifting up the flaps of his 
 pocket holes, to fee what was there. At the ap- 
 proach of evening he took leave ; but not till he 
 had requefted permiflion to renew his vifit, which, 
 as lie was our landlord, we mofl readily agreed to. 
 
 As foon as he was gone, my wife called a council 
 on the conduct of the day. She was of opinion, that 
 it was a mod fortunate hit ; for that me had known 
 even (Iranger things than that brought to bear. She 
 hoped again to fee- the day in which we might hold 
 up our heads with the beft of them ; and concluded, 
 (he protefted fhe could fee no reafon why the two 
 Mifs Wnnklers Ihould marry great fortunes, and
 
 46 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 her children get none. As this laft argument was 
 directed to me, I protefted I could fee no reafon for 
 it neither, nor why Mr. Simkins got the ten thou- 
 fand pounds prize in the lottery, and we fat down 
 with a blank. ' I proteft, Charles,' cried my wife, 
 
 * this is the way you always damp my girls and me 
 when weareinfpirits. Tell me. Soph, my dear, 
 
 * what do you think of our new vifitor ? Don't you 
 
 * think he feemed to be good-natured?'' Im- 
 ' menfely fo, indeed, mama,' replied flie ; 'I think 
 
 * he has a great deal to fay upon every thing, and is 
 never at a lofs; and the more trifling the fubjecl, 
 ' the mote he has to fay.'' Yes/ cried Olivia, 
 
 * he is well enough for a man ; but for my part, I 
 
 * don't much like him, he is fo extremely impudent 
 
 * and familiar; but on the guitar he is fhocking.' 
 Thefe two laft fpeeches I interpreted by contraries. 
 I found by this, that Sophia internally dcfpifed, as 
 much as Olivia fecretly admired him. ' Whatever 
 
 * may be your opinions of him, my children,' cried 
 I, * to confefs a truth, he has not prepoflTeft me in 
 ' his favour. Difproportioned friendfhips ever ter- 
 ' minate in difguft ; and I thought, notwithstanding 
 all his eafe, that he feemed perfeclly fenfible of the 
 ' diftance between us. Let us keep to companions 
 
 * of our own rank. There is no character more 
 
 * contemptible than a man that is a fortune-hunger; 
 ' and I can fee no reafon why fortune-hunting wo- 
 
 * men ihould not be contemptible too. Thus, at 
 ' bed, we /hall be contemptible if his views are ho- 
 
 * nourable; but if they be otherwife! I Ihould 
 
 * fluidd-^r but to think of that ! It is true, I have no 
 
 * apprehenfions from the condudl of my children, 
 
 * but I think there are foine from his character. ' I 
 would have proceeded, but from the interruption 
 of a fervant from the fquire, who, with his com- 
 pliments, fent usa fide of venifon, and a promife to 
 dine with us fome days after. This well-timed pre- 
 fent pleaded mere powerfully in his favour than any 
 thing I had to fay could obviate. I therefore con- 
 tinued,
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 47 
 
 tinued filent, fatisfied with juft having pointed out 
 danger, and leaving it to their own difcretion to 
 avoid it. That virtue which requires to be ever 
 guarded, is fcarcc worth the centinel. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Ibe bappinefs of a country fire -Jide. 
 
 AS we carried on the former difpute with fome 
 degree of warmth, in order to accommodate mat- 
 ters, it was univerfally agreed, that we fhould have 
 a part of the venifon for fupper, and the girls un- 
 dertook the tafk with alacrity. I am forry,' cried 
 I, * that we have no neighbour or ftranger to take 
 part in this good cheer : feafls of this kind acquire 
 a double relifh from hofpitality.' ' Blefs me,' 
 ried my wife, ' here comes our good friend Mr. 
 Burchell, that faved our Sophia, arid that run you 
 down fairly in the argument.'' Confute me ia 
 argument, child!' cried I, ' you miftake there 
 my dear. I believe there are but few that can do 
 that I never difpute your abilities at making a 
 goofe-pye, and I beg you'll leave argument to 
 me.' As I fpoke, poor Mr. Burchell entered 
 the houfe, and was welcomed by the family, who 
 (hook him heartily by the hand, while little Dick 
 officioufly reached him a chair. 
 
 I was pleafed with the poor man's friendmip for 
 two reafons ; becaufe 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 cha- 
 racter of the poor gentleman that would da no good 
 when he was young, though he was not yet thirty. 
 He would at intervals talk with great good fenfe ; 
 but in general he was fondeft of the company of 
 children, whom he ufed to call harmlefs little men. 
 He was famous, I found, for finging them ballads, 
 and telling them ftories ; and fcldom went out with- 
 out fomeihing in his pockets for Them, a piece of 
 gingerbread, or an halfpenny whiftle. He generally 
 
 came
 
 VICAR OF WAKEPIE1D. 
 for a few days into our neighbourhood oner a 
 year, and lived upon the neighbours hofpitality. 
 He lat down to fupper among us, and my wife was 
 not fparing of her goofeberry wine. The tale went 
 round ; he fung us old fongs, and gave the children 
 the ftory of the Buck of Beverland, with thehiftory 
 of Patient Grizzel, the adventures of Catfkin, and 
 then fair Rofamond's bower. Our cock which al- 
 ways crew at eleven, now told us it was time for 
 repdfe ; but an unforefeen difficulty ftarted about 
 lodging the ttranger: all our beds were already 
 taken up, and it was too late to fend him to the 
 next ale-houfe. In this dilemma, little Dick offer- 
 ed him his part of the bed, if his brother Mofes 
 would let him lie with him. * And I,' cried Bill, 
 will give Mr. Burchell my part, if my fitters will 
 take me to theirs/ ' Well done, my good chil- 
 dren,' cried I, ' hofpitality is one of the firft Chrif- 
 tian duties. " The bead retires to his flicker, and 
 the bird to it's neft ; but helplefs man can only 
 find refuge from his fellow -creature. The greateu 
 ttranger in this world was he that came to lave it. 
 He never had an houfe, as if willing to fee what 
 hoipitality was left remaining amongft us. De- 
 borah, my dear,' cried I to my wife, * give thofe 
 boys a lump of fugar each ; and let Dick's be the 
 largeft, becaufe he fpoke firft.' 
 In the morning early 1 called out mv whole family 
 to help at faving an after-growth of hay, and our 
 gueft offering his afliftance, he was accepted among 
 the number. Our labours went on lightly ; we 
 turned the fwath to the wind, 1 went foremen 1 , and 
 the rett followed in due fucceflion. I could not 
 avoid, however, obferving the afliduity of Mr. 
 Biirchell in aih'fting my daughter Sophia in her part 
 of the tafk. When he had finifhed his own, he 
 would join in her's, and enter into clofe converfa- 
 tion : but I had too good an opinion of Sopiiia's un- 
 der/landing, aiid was too well convinced of her am- 
 Iwtion, to be under any uneaiinefs from a man of 
 4- brgken
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 49 
 
 broken fortune. When we were tioilhed for the 
 day, Mr. Burchell was invited as on the night be- 
 v fore ; but he refufed, as he was to lie that night at a 
 neighbour's to whofe child he was carrying a whiiHe. 
 When gone, our converfation at flipper turned upon 
 our late unfortunate gueft. ' What a ftrong in- 
 
 * fiance,' faid I, ' is that poor man of the miferies 
 ' attending a youth of levity and extravagance! He 
 by no means wants fenf'e, which only ferves to ag- 
 
 * gravate his former folly. Poor forlorn creature ! 
 ' where are now the revellers, the flatterers, that 
 he could once infpire, and command ! gone, per- 
 ' haps, to attend the bagnio pander, grown rich by 
 
 * his extravagance. They once praifed him, and 
 now they applaud the pander : their former rap- 
 
 * tures at his wit are now converted into farcafms 
 
 * at his folly : he is poor, and perhaps deferves 
 ' poverty ; for he has neither the ambition to be 
 ' independent, nor the fkill to be ufeful.' Prompted 
 perhaps by fome fecret reafons, I delivered this ob- 
 iervation with too ir.uch acrimony, which my So- 
 phia gently reproved. ' Whatfoever his former 
 
 * conduct may be, papa, his circumflances fhould 
 exempt him from cenfure now. His prefent in- 
 1 digence is a fufiicient punifhment for former folly ; 
 
 * and I have heard my papa himfelf fay, that we 
 
 * fhould never ftrikeone unnecefTary blow at a victim 
 
 * over whom Providence holds the fcourge of his 
 ' refentment.' ' You are right, Sophia,' cried my 
 fon Mofes, * and one of the antients finely repre- 
 fents fo malicious a conduct, by the attempts of 
 
 * a ruflic to flay Marfyas, whofe fkin, the fable tells 
 ' us, had been wholly ftript off by another. Be- 
 
 * fides, I don't know if this poor man's fituation be 
 ' fo bad as my father would reprefent 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 
 
 * itfelf finds the apartment fufficiently lightfome. 
 ' And to confcis the truth, this nun's mind feems 
 
 E fitted
 
 5 ft-- VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 ' fitted to his ftation ; for I never heard any one 
 'more fprightly than he was to-day, when he con- 
 ' verled with you.' This was faid without the leail 
 deftgn ;. however, it excited a blufh, which me ftrove 
 to cover by an affeled 4augh ; aflTuring him, that 
 fhe fcarce took any notice of what he laid to her ; 
 but that (he believed he might once have been a very 
 fine gentleman. The readinefs with which (he un- 
 dertook to vindicate herfelf, and her blufhing, were 
 fymptoms I did not internally approve ; but I re- 
 preft my fufpicions. 
 
 As we expected our landlord the next day, my 
 wife went to make the venifon pafiy ; Moles fat 
 reading while I taught the little ones : my daugh- 
 ters feemed equally bufy with the reft; and I ob- 
 ferved them for a good while cooking fomething 
 over the fire. I at firft fuppofed they were aflift- 
 ing their mother ; but little Dick informed me in a 
 whifper, that they were making a wafh for the face. 
 Walhes of all kinds I had a natural antipathy to; 
 for I knew that inftead of mending the complexion 
 they fpoiled it. I therefore approached my chair 
 by fly degrees to the fire, and grafping the poker, 
 as if it wanted mending, feemingly by" accident, 
 overturned the whole compofition, and it was toa 
 late to begin another. 
 
 W 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 A toivn ivit described. The dulleft fello-iu may learn 
 to be comical for a night or /TOO. 
 
 ; T H E N the morning arrived on which we wen: 
 to entertain our young landlord, it may b-e 
 eafily fuppofed what provifions were exhaufted to 
 make an appearance. It may alfo be conjedtured 
 that my wife and daughters expanded their gayett 
 plumage upon this occafion. Mr. Thornhill came 
 with a couple of friends, his chaplain and feeder. 
 The fervants, who were numerous, he politely or- 
 dered to the next alehoufe ; but my wife, in the 
 
 triumph
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 51 
 
 triumph of her heart, infilled en entertaining tlieni 
 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 iome pro- 
 pofals of marriage to Mifs Wilmot, my fon George's 
 former iniftrefs, this a good deal damped the heur- 
 tincfs of his reception : but accident, in fome mea- 
 fure, relieved cur embarralTmeiit ; for one of the 
 company happening to mention her name, Mr. 
 Thornhill (-blerved with an oaih, that he never 
 km- . any thing more abfurd than calling fitch a 
 fright a beauty: < For ftr.ke me ugly,' continued 
 he, ' if I mould not find as much pleafure ;r. choof- 
 ' ing my miftr-fs by the information of a lany un- 
 ' der the clock at St. Dunftan's.' At this he 
 laughed, and fu did we: tlie jefts of the rich are 
 ever fuccefsful. Olivia too could not avoid whif- 
 pering, loud enough to be heard, that he had an 
 infinite fund of humour. 
 
 After dinner I began wiih my ufual toaft, the 
 church ; for this I wa tlianked by the chaplain, as 
 J -id the church was the only miftreis of his af- 
 fections. Come, tell us hor.eftiy, Frank,' faid 
 the fquire with his ufual archnefs, ' itippofe the 
 4 church, your prefent miflrefs, dreft in lawn. 
 ' fleeves, en one hand, and Mi;s So\.ia, with no 
 ' lawn about her, on the other; which would you 
 
 * be for ? Fo{ both, to be fure,' cried the chap- 
 lain. Right, Frank,' cred the fquire ; * formay 
 ' this giafs fuffocate me, but a fine girl is worth all 
 ' t!ie prieil-craft in the creation. For what are 
 
 * tythcs and tricks but an imposition, all a con- 
 ' founded imnoflure, and I can prove it.' ' I wi(h 
 ' you would, cried my fon Mofes, ' and I think,' 
 contir.ued he, ' that I (hall be able to anfwer you.' 
 ' V',-ry v.ell, Sir,' cried the fquire, who imme- 
 diately fmoked him, and winked on the reft of tlie 
 company, to prepare us for the fport, ' it you are 
 for a cool argument upon that fubjecl, I am ready 
 tj ucccpt the challenge. And firit, whether are 
 
 ' E * * you
 
 5* VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 ' you for managing it analogically, or dialogically ?" 
 ' I aift for managing it rationally,' cried Moles, 
 quite happy at being permitted to difpute. ' Good 
 again,' cried the (quire; ' and firftly, of the firft, 
 ' I hope you'll not deny that whatever is, is : it 
 < you don't grant me that, I can go no farther.' 
 ' Why,' returned Mofes, ' I think I may grant 
 ' that, and make the beft of it.' ' I hope too,' 
 returned the other, * you will grant, that a part is 
 lefs than the whole.' * I grant that too,' cried 
 Mofes, ' it is but juft and reasonable.' ' I hope," 
 cried the fquire, ' 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 ufual importance. ' Very 
 
 * well,' cried the (quire, fpeaking very quick; 'the 
 premifes being thus fettled, I proceed to obferve, 
 ' that the concatenation of felf-exiftences, proceed- 
 
 * ing in a reciprocal duplicate ratio, naturally pro- 
 
 * duce a problematical dialogifm, which in fome 
 
 * meafure proves that the elFence of fpirituality may 
 
 * be referred to the fecund predicable.' Hold, 
 ' hold,' cried the other, ' I deny that. Do you 
 ' think I can thus tamely fubmit to fuch heterodox 
 doclrines?' ' What,' replied the fquire, as if in a 
 paflion, ' not fubmit ! Anfwer me one plain quef- 
 tion : Do you think Ariltotle right, when he fays, 
 ' that relatives are related?' 'Undoubtedly,' re- 
 plied the other. ' If fo then,' cried the fquire, 
 ' anfwer me direftly to what I propofe : Whether 
 ' do you judge the analytical investigation of the 
 
 * firfl part of my enthymen deficient fecundum 
 ' quoad, or quoad minus, and give me your rea- 
 ' fons: I lay, direclly,.' I proteft,' cried Mofes, 
 
 * I don't rightly comprehend the force of your rea- 
 ' foning; but if it be reduced to one iimple propo- 
 ' fition, I fancy it may then have an anfwer. O, 
 ' Sir, cried the fquire, ' I am your moft humble fer- 
 
 vant ; I find you want me to furnifh you with ar- 
 No, Sir, there I pro- 
 tell
 
 VTCAR OF WAKEFIELD. 55 
 
 ' teft you are too hard for me.' This effectually 
 ; the laugh ajrair.lt poor Mofes, who fat the 
 only difmal figure in a groupe of merry faces : nor 
 did he offer a fingle fyliable more during the whole 
 entertainment. 
 
 But though all this gave me no pleafure, it had a 
 very different effect upon Olivia, who mifiook it for 
 humour, though but a mere act of the memory. 
 She thought him therefore a very fine gentleman ; 
 and fuch as ccnfider what powerful ingred-ents a 
 good figure, fine clothes, and fortune, are in that 
 character, will eafily forgive her. Mr. Thornhill, 
 notwithftanding his real ignorance, talked with eafe, 
 and could expatia f e upon the common topics of con- 
 verfation with fluency. It is not furprifing then 
 that flich talents mould win the affections of a girl, 
 v ho by education was taught to value an appearance 
 in herfelf, and consequently to fet a value upon it iu 
 another. 
 
 Upon his departure, we again entered into a do- 
 bate upon ti.e irc-ri^s of our young landlord. As 
 he directed his looks and converfation to Olivia, it 
 was no longer doubted but that (he was the objecT: 
 that induced him to be our vifiror. Nor did /he 
 fce'n to be much difpleafed at the innocent raillery 
 of ncr brother and lifter upon this occa/ion. Even 
 Debor;h 1'crfelf Teemed to (hare the glory of the 
 day, ;tnd exulted in her daughter's viilory as if it 
 veieherosvn. * And now, my dear,' cried (he to 
 o\vn, that it was I that inftrudted 
 my. o our landlord's addreffrs. I 
 
 Jiat! ah 1 - ;)-.; ibrnc ambition, and you now lee that 
 I was rigiu ; tl.r v ho knowshow this may end >' 
 : wh knows that inde.d !' anfwered I with a 
 : ' for my part I don't much like it ; and I 
 could have been better pleated with one that was 
 poor and honeft, Mian this tine gentleman with his 
 fortune and infidelity : for, depend on't, if he be 
 i ' him, no free-thinker (hall ever have 
 a child of mine.' 
 
 E 3 ' Sure,
 
 54 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * Sure, father,' cried Mofes, ' you are too fevere 
 in this ; for Heaven will never arraign him for 
 what he thinks, but for what he does. Every 
 man has a thoufand vicious thoughts, which arife 
 without his power to fupprefs. Thinking freely 
 of religion may be involuntary with this'gentle- 
 man : fo that allowing his fentiments to be wron^, 
 yet as he is purely pallive in his affent, he is no 
 more to be blamed for his errors, than the go- 
 vernor of a city without walls for the fhelter he is 
 obliged to afford an invading enemy.' 
 / True, my fon,' cried I ; but if the governor 
 invites the enemy there, he isjuftly culpable. And 
 fuch is always the cafe with thofe who em- 
 brace error. The vice does not lie in afTenting to 
 the proofs they fee ; but in being blind to many 
 of the proofs that offer. So that, though our er- 
 roneous opinions be involuntary when formed, yet 
 as we have been wilfully corrupt, or very negli- 
 gent in forming them, we deferve punifhnient for 
 our vices, or contempt for our folly.' 
 My wife now kept up the converfation, though 
 not the argument : fhe obferved, that feveral very 
 prudent men of our acquaintance were free-thinkers, 
 and made very good hufbands; and fhe knew fome 
 ienfible girls that had (kill enough to make con- 
 verts of their fpoufes : ' And who knows, my dear,' 
 continued fhe, what Olivia may be able to do ? 
 ' The girl has a great deal to fay upon every fub- 
 ' jeft, and to my knowledge is very well fkilled in 
 ' controverfy.' 
 
 ' Why, my dear, what controverfy can fhe have 
 * read?' cried I. ' It does not occur to me that I 
 ever put fuch books into her hands: you cer- 
 tainly over- rate her merit.' Indeed, papa,' re- 
 plied Olivia, ' fhe does not : I have read a great 
 ' deal of controverfy. I have read the difputes 
 ' between Thwackum and Square ; the contro- 
 veriy between Robinfon Crufoe and Friday the 
 favage, and I am now employed in reading the 
 controverfy in Religious Courtihip.' ' Very
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 55 
 
 well/ cried I, that's a good girl; I find you are 
 
 perfectly qualified for making converts, and fo go 
 
 * help your mother to make the goofeberry-pye.' 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 An amour , "which promifes little goid fortune , yet may 
 be product I've of much. 
 
 npHE next morning we were again vifited by Mr. 
 -* Burchell, though I began, for certain reafons, 
 to be difpleafed with the frequency of his return ; 
 but 1 could not refufe him my company and fire- 
 fide. It is true his labour more than requited his 
 entertainment ; for he wrote among us with vigour, 
 and either in the meadow or at the hay-rick, put 
 himfelf foremoft. Befides, he had always fomething 
 ainuling to fay thatlelfened our toil, and was at once 
 fo out of the way, and yet fo fenfible, that I loved, 
 laughed at, and pitied him. My only diflike arofe 
 from an attachment he dilcovered to my daughter : 
 he would in a jetting manner call her his little 
 miftrefs, and when he bought each of the girls a fet 
 of ribbands, her's was the fineft. I knew not how, 
 but he every day feemed to become more amiable, 
 his wit to improve, and his finiplicity to aflame the 
 lupcrior airs of wifdom. 
 
 Our family dined in the field, and we fat, or rather 
 reclined, round a temperate repaft, our cloth fpread 
 upon the hay, while Mr. Burchell gave chearfulnefs 
 to the feafl. To heighten our fatisfaclion, two 
 black-birds anfwered each other from oppofite 
 hedges, the familiar red- bread came and picked the 
 crumbs from our- hands, and every found feemed 
 but the echo of tranquillity. ' I never fit thus,' fays 
 Sophia, ' but I think of the two lovers, fo fweetly 
 
 defcribed by Mr. Gay, who were (truck dead in 
 
 * each other's arms. There is fomething fo pathetic 
 
 * in the dcici iptiun, that 1 have read it an hundred 
 
 times with new rapture.' ' In my opinion,' cried 
 jay -.011, ' the fineft itrokes in that description arc 
 
 ' much
 
 5 6 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 much below thofe in the Acisand Galatea of Ovid. 
 The Roman poet underftands the tile of contraft. 
 better, and upon that figure, artfully managed, 
 all flrength in the pathetic depends.' ' It is re- 
 markable,' tried Mr Burchell, < that both the 
 poets you mention luve equally contributed to in- 
 troduce a falfe tafte into their refpeclive conn tries, 
 by loading their lines v.ith epithet. Men of little 
 genius found them moft-eafily imitated in their de- 
 fects, and Engl !h poetry, like that in the latter 
 empire of Rome, is nothing at prefent but a com- 
 bination of toxuriant images, without plot or con. 
 neclion; a firing of epithets that improve the 
 found without carrying on the fenfe. But perhaps, 
 Madam, while I thus reprehend orhers, you'll 
 think it juft that I fhould 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 leaft free from thofe I have 
 mentioned.' 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 
 F"|-MJRN, gentle hermit of the dale, 
 
 - \_ ' And guide by lonely way, 
 To where yon taper chears the vale, 
 
 With hofpi table ray. 
 ' For here forlorn and loft I tread, 
 
 With fainting fteps and fl.-\v ; 
 Where wilas immeafuraoly fpread, 
 
 ' Seem lengthening as I go.' 
 Forbear, my fon,' the hermit cries, 
 
 ' To tempt the dangerous gloom j 
 For yonder faithkfs phantom flies 
 
 To Jure due to thy doom . 
 Here to the houfelefs child of want, 
 
 ' My door is open ftill : 
 And though my portion is but fcant, I 
 
 * I give it with good will. 
 
 Then
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 Then turn to night, and freely lhare 
 Whate'r my cell bettows j 
 
 My ruihy couch, and frugal fare, 
 
 * My bleiling and repofe. 
 
 ' No flucks that range the valley free, 
 
 * To flaughter I condemn ; 
 
 Taught by that power that pities me, 
 
 * I karn to pity them. 
 
 But fiom the mountain's grafly fide, 
 
 * A gulltlefs featl I bring ; 
 
 A (crip with herbs and fruits ftipply'd, 
 
 * And water from the fpring. 
 
 Then, prlgrim, turn, thy cares forego J 
 
 AJ1 earth-bcrn cares are wrong : 
 
 Man wants but little here below, 
 
 Nor wants that little long * 
 Soft as the dew from heav'n defcends, 
 
 His gentle accents fell : 
 The model* ftrar.ger lowly beads, 
 
 Andrbilowii to the cell. 
 Far in awfldernefs obfcure 
 
 The lonely manfion lay ; 
 A tefuge to the neighbouring poor, 
 
 And fttangers led aftray. 
 Kb rtorcs Beneath it's humble tfutcfc 
 
 Requir'd a mificr's care j 
 Tke wicket opening with a latch, 
 
 Receiv'd the harmiefs pair. 
 And nowwhcn bufy crowds retire 
 
 To tke their evening reft, 
 The hermit trimm'd his little fire, 
 
 And chear'd his pentive gueil* 
 And fpreadf his yegetable ftore, 
 
 And gayly preft and fmil'd j 
 Andflcill'd in fegendary lore, 
 
 The ling'rir.g hours beguil'd. 
 Around in fympathetic mirth 
 
 It's tricks the kitten tries ; 
 The cricket chirrups in the hearth, 
 
 The crackling faggot flies*
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 But nothing couid a charm impart 
 
 To foithe the Granger's woe ; 
 For grief was heavy at his heart, 
 
 And tears began to fl ->w. 
 His rifir.g cares the hermit fpy'd, 
 
 With afweringcare oppreft : 
 ' And whence, unhappy youth,' he crf'd, 
 
 The f >rrnws of thy breaft ? 
 ' From better habitations .fpura'd, 
 
 ' Reluftint doil thou rove j 
 
 * Or grirve for irieru:(hip umeturn'd, 
 'Or unregarded love ? 
 
 ' Alas! the joys that fortune brings, 
 
 * Are trid:ng and decay; 
 
 ' And thole who prize the paltry things, 
 ' More trifling ftiil than they. 
 
 * And what is friendfhip but a name, 
 ' A charm that lulls to flaep ; 
 
 * A ftacie that follows wealth or fame, 
 
 * But leayss the wretch to weep ? 
 ' And love is ftiilan emptier found, 
 
 ' The modern fair one's jeft ; 
 ' On earth unfen, or only found 
 
 ' To warm the turtle's aeit. 
 ' For (h?.me, fond youth, thy forrowi huJh 
 
 ' And fpurn tk? fex,' he faid : 
 But whiie he fpoke, a rifing blufli 
 
 His (ove-lorn gucft betray'd. 
 Surpr-z'd he fees new beauties rife 
 
 Swift mantling to the view, 
 Like colours o'er ;he morning ikies j 
 
 As oright, as tranfient too. 
 The bafliful look, the rifing breaft, 
 
 Alternate ftjread alarms; 
 The lovely flrangcr ftands confeft, 
 
 A maid, in ail her charms. 
 And, Ah, 4 rgive a ftranger rude, 
 
 ' A wretch forlorn,' {he cried ; 
 ' Whofe feet unal'.ow'd thus intrude 
 
 ! Where Heav'n and you refide j 
 
 ' Bat
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * But let a maid thy pity ihjre, 
 
 Whom love has taught to ftray j 
 Who fecks for reit, but 6nds defpair 
 
 ' Companion of her way. 
 My father liv'd befide the Tyne, 
 
 ' A wealthy lord was he ; . 
 < And all hi.-, wealth was marlc'd as mine, 
 
 He had but only me. 
 
 * To w ; n me from his tender arms, 
 
 * Unnumber'o fuitors came ; 
 
 Whi) prais'd mt tor imputed charms, 
 
 * And lelt or feign'd a flame. 
 
 * Each hour a mercenary crowd 
 
 * With richeft proflvrs Itrove ! 
 
 * Among the red yung Edwin bow'd, 
 f But never taik'd of love. 
 
 * In humble, fimpleft habit clad, 
 
 ' Nor wealth nor power had he ; 
 Wifdom and worth were all he had, 
 
 ' But thefe were all to me. 
 The blofTom opening to the day, 
 
 The dews of heav'n refin'd, 
 ' Could nought of purity difplay, 
 
 ' To emulate his mind. 
 The dew, the blofTom on the tree, 
 
 ' With charms inconftatit mine ; 
 ' Their charms were his, but woe to me, 
 
 * Their conftancy was mine. 
 
 For ftill I try'd each fickle art, 
 
 * Importunate and vain : 
 
 4 And while his pafiion touch'd my heart, 
 
 < I triamph'd in his pain. 
 
 Till quite dejected with my fcorn, 
 ' He lel't me to my pride ; 
 
 * And fought a folituiie forlorn, 
 
 < In fecret, where he died. 
 
 But mine the f-jrrow, mine the fault, 
 
 < And well my life fhall pay ; 
 
 I'll feek the folitude he fought, 
 And ilretch me where he lay.
 
 * VICAR OF WAKEFIEUX 
 
 * And there forlorn despairing hid, 
 ' I'll lay me down and die ; 
 
 * 'Twas fofor me'that Edwin did, 
 
 * And fo for him will I.' 
 
 Forbid it, heav'n !' the hermit cry'd, 
 
 * And ciafp'd her to his breafh 
 
 * The wondering fair one turn'd to chide, 
 Twas Edwin's felf that prett. 
 
 * Turn, Angelina, ever dear, 
 
 'My charmer, turn to fee, 
 ' Thy own, thy long loft Edwin here, 
 Reftor'd to love and thee. 
 
 * Thus let rne hold thee to my heart, 
 ' And ev'ry care refign: 
 
 ' And fliall we never, never part, 
 
 * My lifemay all that's mine ! 
 
 * No, never from this hour t 1 part : 
 
 1 We'll live and love fo true ; 
 
 * The fighthat rends thy conftant heart, 
 
 * Shall break thy Edwin's toj.' 
 
 While this ballad was reading, Sophia feemed t 
 mix an air of tendernefs with her approbation. But 
 our tranquillity was foon difturbed by the report of a 
 gun juftby us, and immediately after a man wasfeen 
 burfting through the hedge, to take up the game he 
 had killed. This fportfman was thefquire's chaplain, 
 who had (hot one of the blackbirds that fo agreeably 
 entertained us. So loud a report, and fo near, 
 ftartled my daughters; and I could perceive that 
 Sophia in the fright had thrown herfelf into Mr. 
 Burchell's arms for protection. The gentleman 
 came up, and afked pardon for having difturbed us, 
 affirming that he was ignorant of our being fo near. 
 He therefore fat down by my youngeft daughter, and, 
 fportfman like, offered her what lie had killed that 
 morning. She was going to refufe, but a private 
 look from her mother foon induced her to correct 
 the miftake, and accept his prefent, though with 
 fome reluctance. My wife, as ufual, difcovered her 
 J>ride in a whifper ; o'bfervin^ that Sophia had made 
 
 con-
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 61 
 
 a conqneft of the chaplain, as well as her fitter had 
 of the fquire. I fufpec~led, however, with more 
 probability, that her affections were placed upon a 
 different object.' The chaplain's errand was to in- 
 form us, that Mr. Thornhill had provided mufic and 
 refrefliments, and intended that night giving the 
 young ladies a ball by moon-light, on the grafs plat 
 before our door. ' Nor can I denv,' continued he, 
 ' but I have an intereft in being firrt to deliver this 
 medage, as I expect for my reward to be honour- 
 ed with Mifs Sophia's hand as a partner.' To 
 this my girl repjied, that (he mould have no ob- 
 jedlipn, if me could do it with honour: ' But here, 
 continued me, is a gentleman,' locking at Mr. 
 Burchell, 'who has been my companion in the taflc 
 for the day, and it is fit he mould mare in its 
 amufements.' Mr. Burchell returned her a com- 
 pliment for her intentions; but refigned her up to 
 the chaplain, adding that he was to go that night 
 five miles, being invited to an harvelt fupper. His 
 refufal appeared to me a little extraordinary, nor 
 could I conceive how fo fenfible a girl as my youngeft, 
 could thus prefer a man of broken fortune to one 
 whofe expectations were much greater. But as men 
 are moft capable of dittinguifliing merit in women, 
 fo the ladies often form the trueft judgments of us. 
 The two exes feem placed as fpies upon each other, 
 and are furnimed with different abilities, adapted for 
 mutual inipe&ion. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 Thao ladies of great dljlinfiion introduced. Superior 
 
 finery everfeems to confer fufenor breeding. 
 TV TR. Burchell had fcarce taken leave, and Sophia 
 
 coniented to dance with the chaplain, when my 
 little ones came running out to tell us, that the 
 fquire 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 drefTed, 
 wh*m he introduced as women of very great dif-
 
 2 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 tinclion and fafhion from town. We happened not 
 to have chairs enough for the whole company ; but 
 Mr. Thprnhill immediately propofed that every gen- 
 tleman mould fit in a lady's lap. This propofition I 
 pofitively objected to, notwithftanding a look of dif- 
 approbation from my wife. Mofes therefore was 
 difpatched to borrow a couple of chairs ; and as we 
 were in want of ladies to make up a fet at country 
 dances, the two gentlemen went with him in queft of 
 a couple of partners. Chairs and partners were 
 foon provided. The gentlemen returned with m^k 
 neighbour Flamborough's rofy daughters, flaunting^ 
 with red top-nots. But an unlucky circumftance 
 was not adverted to : though the Mifs Flambo- 
 roughs were reckoned the very bed dancers in the 
 pariih, and underftood the jig and round-about to 
 perfection ; yet they were totally unacquainted with 
 country-dances. This at firft difcompofed us : how- 
 ever, after a little fhoving and dragging, they at laft 
 went merrily on. Our mufic confiuvti of two fid- 
 dles, with a pipe and tabor. The moon (hone 
 bright, Mr. Thornhill and my eldeft daughter led 
 up the b^ll, to the great delight of the fpectators ; 
 for the neighbours hearing what was going lorward, 
 came flocking about us. My girl moved with fo 
 much '-race and vivacity, that my wife could not 
 avoid difcovering the pride of her heart, by alluring 
 me, that though the little chit did it fo cleverly, all 
 tVe fleps were ftolen from herfelf. The ladies of 
 the town ftrove hard to be equally eafy, but without 
 fuccefs. They fwam, fprawled, languished, and 
 frifked ; but, all would not do : the gazers indeed 
 owned that it was fine ; but neighbour Flamborough 
 obferved that Mifs Livy's feet feemed as pat to the 
 mufic as its echo. After the dance had continued 
 about an hour, the two ladies, who were apprehen- 
 five of catching cold, moved to break up the ball. 
 One of them, I thought, expreffed her fentiments 
 upon this occafion in a very coarfe manner, when 
 flie observed, that by the living jingo, Jbe ivas all of 
 
 a muck
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 63 
 
 * muck offwfat. Upon our return to the houfe, we 
 found a very elegant coldfupper, which Mr. Thorn- 
 hill had ordered to be brought with him. 'The con- 
 verfatiou at this time, was more referved than be- 
 fore. The two ladies threw my girls quite into the 
 flu vie ; for they would talk of nothing but high lire, 
 and high lived company ; with other lafhionable to- 
 picks, fuch as pictures, tafte, Shakefpeare, and tlic 
 mufical glafles. 'Tis true they once or twice morti- 
 fied us lenfibly by flipping out an oath ; but that ap- 
 peared to me as the fhreft fymptom of their dittinc- 
 flon, (though I am fince informed that fwearing is 
 perfectly unfamionable.) Their finery, however, 
 threw a veil over any groffhefs in their converfaiion. 
 My daughters leemed to regard their laperior ac- 
 compli Ahments with envy; and what appeared amifs 
 was afcribed to tip-top quality breeding. But the 
 conddcenfion of the ladies was ftill Itiperior to their 
 other accomplishments. One of them obferved, 
 that had Mifs Olivia feen a little more of the world, 
 it would greatly improve her. To which the other 
 added that a fingle winter in town would make her 
 little Sophia quite another thing. My wife warmly 
 aflented tu both ; adding, that mere was nothing (he 
 more ardently wifhed than to give her girls a (ingle 
 winter's poliflu'ng. To this 1 could not help reply- 
 ing, that their breeding was already fuperior to tfieir 
 fortune ; and. that greater refinement would only 
 ferve to make their poverty ridiculous, "and give 
 them a tafle for pleafures they had no right to pofljfs. 
 'And what pleafures,' cried Mr. Thornhill, 'do 
 ' they not deferve to poflefs, who have fo much in 
 ' their power to beftow ? As for my part,' continued 
 he, my fortune is pretty large ; love, liberty, and 
 
 * pleafure, are my maxims ; but curfe me if a fettle- 
 
 * ment of half my eftate could give my charnvng 
 
 * Olivia pleafure, it mould be her's ; and the only 
 ' favour I would aflc in return, would be to add my- 
 
 * felf to the benefit.' I was not fuch a ftranger in 
 the world as to be ignorant that this was the fa(hion- 
 
 F 3 able
 
 < 4 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 able cant to difguife the infolence of the bafeft pro- 
 
 pofal ; but I made an effort to fupprets my refent- 
 
 ment. ' Sir,* cried I, * the family which you now 
 
 condefcend to favour with your company has been 
 
 bred with as nice a fenfe of honour as you. Any 
 
 attempts to injure that may be attended with vtry 
 
 dangerous confequences. Honour, Sir, is our only 
 
 pofleflion at prefent, and of that laft treafure we 
 
 muft be particularly careful.' I was foon forry 
 
 for the warmth with which I had fpoken this, when 
 
 the young gentleman, grafping my hand, fwore he 
 
 commended my fpirit, though he difapproved of my 
 
 fufpicions. * As to your prefent hint,' continued 
 
 he, ' I proteft nothing was farther from my heart 
 
 than fuch a thought. No, by all that's tempting, 
 
 * the virtue that will ftand a regular liege was never 
 
 * to my tafte ; for all my amours are carried by a 
 
 * coup de main.' 
 
 The two ladies, who affected to be ignorant of the 
 reft, feemed highly difpleafed with this laft ftroke of 
 freedom, and began a very difcreet and ferious dia- 
 logue upon virtue : in this my wife, the chaplain, 
 and I, foon joined ; and the fquire himfelf was at laft 
 brought to confefs a fenfe of forrow for his_ former 
 excelles. We talked on the pleafures of temperance, 
 and of the fun-fhine in the mind unpolluted with 
 guilt. I was fo well pleafed, that my little ones 
 were kept beyond the ufual time to be edified by fo 
 much good converfation. Mr. Thornhill even went 
 beyond me, and demanded if I had any objection to 
 giving prayers. I joyfully embraced the propofal, 
 and in th s manner the night was paflTed in a nioft 
 comfortable way, till at laft the company began to 
 think of returning. The ladies feemed very unwil- 
 ling to part with my daughters ; for \\hom they had 
 conceived a particular affection, and joined in a re- 
 queft to have the pleafure of their company home. 
 The fquire feconded the propofal, and my wife added 
 her iotreaties; the girls too looked upon me as if 
 they wiflied to go. In this perplexity I made two er 
 
 three
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 65 
 
 three excufes, which my ^daughters as readily re- 
 moved ; fo that at Jail I was obliged to give a pe- 
 remptory refufal; for which we had nothing but 
 fullen looks and fliort anfwers the whole day cn- 
 fuing. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 The family endeavour to cope laltb their betters. The 
 miferies of the poor 'when they attempt to ap- 
 pear above their circumjlances. 
 
 T NOW began to find that all my long and painful 
 * lectures upon temperance, fimplicity, and content- 
 ment, were entirely difregarded. The diftinclions 
 lately paid us by our betters awaked that pride 
 which I had laid afleep, but not removed, Our 
 windows again, as formerly, were filled wiih wafhes - 
 for the neck and face. The fun was dreaded as an 
 enemy to the (kin without doors, and the fire as a 
 fpoiler of the complexion within. My wife obfervcd, 
 that rifing too early would hurt her daughter's eyes, 
 that working after dinner would redden their nofes, 
 and flie convinced me that the hands never looked fo _ 
 white as when they did nothing. Inftead, therefore, 
 of finiihing George's fhirts, \ve now had them new 
 modelling their old gauzes, or flourifhing upon cat- 
 gut. The poor Mifs Flamboroughs, their former 
 gay companions, were caft off as mean acquaintance, 
 and the whole converfation ran upon high life and 
 high-lived company, with pictures, tafte, Shake- 
 fpeare, and the nmfical glafles. 
 
 But we could have borne all this, had not a for- 
 tune-telling gypfey come to raifeusinto perfect: fub- 
 limity. The tawney fybill no fooner appeared, than 
 my girls came running to me for a milling a-piece, 
 to crofs her hand with filver. To fay the truth, I 
 was tired of being always wife, and could not help 
 gratifying their requeft, becaufe I loved to fee them 
 happy. I gave each of them a milling; though, 
 for the honour of the family, it muft be obfcrved r 
 that they never went without money themfclvcs, ;ii 
 F 3 my
 
 66 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 my wife always generonfly let them have a guinea 
 eai.h, to keep in their pockets ; but with ftricl in- 
 junctions never to change it. After they had been 
 clofeted up with the fortune-teller for fome time, I 
 knew by their looks, upon their returning, that they 
 had been promifed fomething great. ' Well, my 
 
 * girls, how have you fped ? Tell me, Livy, has the 
 
 * fortune-teller given thee a penny-worth ?' ' I 
 
 * protelt, papa/ fays the girl, ' I believe fhe deals 
 
 * with fomebody that's not right ; for flie pofitively 
 < declared, that I am to be married to a fquire in 
 lefs than a twelvemonth!' < Well, now, Sophy, 
 
 * my child,' faid I, ' and what fort of a hufband are 
 ' you to have ?' ' Sir,' replied (he, ' I am to have 
 ' a lord foon after my lifter has married the fquire.' 
 'How,' cried I, ' is that all you are to have for 
 your two (hillings ! Only a lord and a fquire for 
 
 * two (hillings ! You fools, I could have promifed 
 
 * you a prince and a nabob for half the money.' 
 This curiofity of theirs, however, w as attended 
 
 with very ferious effects : we now began to think 
 ourfelvesdeligned by the ftars to fomething exalted, 
 $nd already anticipated our future grandeur. 
 
 It has been athoufand times obferved, and I muft 
 pbferve it once more, that the hours we pafs with 
 happy profpects in view, are more pleafing than 
 thofe crowned with fruition. In the firft cafe, we 
 cook the di(h to our own appetite ; in the latter, na- 
 ture cooks it for us, It is impoilible to repeat the 
 train of agreeable reveries we called up for our en- 
 tertainment. We looked upon our fortunes as once 
 more rifing; and as the whole parifli ailerted, that 
 the fquire was in love with my daughter, fhe was 
 actually fo with him; for they peduaded her into 
 the paflion. In this agreeable interval, my wife had 
 the moft lucky dreams in the world, which fhe took 
 care to tell us every morning with great folemnity 
 and exaclnefs. It 'was one night a coffin and crofs, 
 bones, the fign of an approaching wedding : at 
 Another time flie imagined he.r daughters pockets
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIEUX 67 
 
 filled with farthings, a certain fign they would Qiortly 
 be (tufted with gold. T he girls themfelves had their 
 omens. They felt ftrange kiflTes on their lips; they 
 faw i ings in the candle ; purfes 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 com- 
 pliments, they hoped to fee all our family at church 
 the Sunday following. All Saturday morning I 
 could perceive, in confequence of this, my wife and 
 daughters in clo'e conference together, and now and. 
 then glancing ut me with looks that betrayed a latent 
 plot. To be fincere, I had ftrong fufpicions that 
 fome abfurd propolal was preparing for appearing 
 with fplendour the next day. In the evening they 
 began their operations in a very regular manner, 
 and my wife undertook to conduct the fiege. After 
 tea, when 1 feemed in fpirits, (lie began thus: ' I 
 fancy, Charles, my dear, we (hall have a great 
 deal of good company at our church to-morraw.' 
 Perhaps we may, my dear,' returned I; though 
 you need be under no uneafinefs about that, you 
 
 mall have a fermon whether there be or not.'- 
 
 That is what I expect,' returned flie : but I 
 think, my dear, we ought to appear there as de- 
 cuntly as poflible, for who knows what may hap- 
 pen?' Your precautions,' replied I, 'are highly 
 commendable. A decent behaviour and appear- 
 ance at church is what charms me. We fliouldbe 
 
 devout and humble, chearful and ferene. 
 
 Yes, cried me, ' I know that; but I mean we 
 
 fhould go there in as proper a manner as polTlble, 
 
 not altogether like the fcrubs about us.' ' You 
 
 are quite right, my dear,' returned I, ' and { 
 
 was going to make the very fame propofal. The 
 
 proper manner of going is, to go there as early as 
 
 poflible, to have time for meditation before the fer- 
 
 < vice begins.'' Phoo, Charles,' interrupted ftie, 
 
 * all this is very true ; but not what I would be at v 
 
 ' I mean
 
 68 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * I mean, we fhould go there genteelly. You know 
 the cl urch is two miles off, and I proteft I don't 
 like to fee my daughters trudging up to their pew 
 
 * all blowzed and red with walking, and looking for 
 ' all worldas if they had been winners at a fmock race. 
 
 * Now, my dear, my propofal is this ; there are our 
 ' two plough horfes, the colt that has been in our 
 ' family thefe nine years, and his companion Black- 
 ' berry, that has fcarce done an earthly thing for 
 
 * this month pad. They are both grown fat and 
 ' lazy. Why fhould they not do fomething as well 
 ' as we? And let me tell you when Mofes has trim- 
 ' med them a little, they will cut a tolerable figure.' 
 
 To this p/opofal I objected, that walking would 
 be twenty times more genteel than fuch a paltry con- 
 veyance, as Blackberry was wall-eyed, and the 
 ' colt wanted a tail : that they had never been broke 
 ' to the rein ; but had an hundred vicious tricks ; 
 and that we had but one faddle and pillion in the 
 whole houfe. All thefe objections, however, were 
 over-ruled : fo that I was obliged to comply. The 
 next morning I perceived them not a little bufy in 
 collecting fiich materials as might be neceflary'for 
 the expedition; but as I found it would be a bufi- 
 nefs of time, I walked on to the church before, and 
 they promifed fpeedily to follow. I waited near an 
 hour in the reading-defk for their arrival ; but not 
 finding them come as I expefted, I was obliged to 
 begin, and went through the fervice, not without 
 fome uneafinefs at' finding them abfent. This was 
 encreafed when al! was finifhed, and no appearance 
 of the family. I therefore walked back by the horfe- 
 way, which was five miles round, though the foot- 
 way was but two, and when got about half-way 
 home, perceived the procefiiori marching ftowly 
 forwards towards the church ; my fon, my wife, and 
 the two little ones exalted upon one horfe, and my 
 two daughters upon the other. I demanded the 
 caufe of their delay ; but I found by their looks 
 they had met with a thoufand misfortunes on the 
 
 road.
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 6 9 
 
 road. The horfes had at firft refufcd to move from 
 the door, till Mr. Burchell was kind enough to beat 
 them forward for about two hundred yards with his 
 cudgel. Next the (traps of my wife's pillion broke 
 down, and they were obliged to flop to repair them 
 before they could proceed. After that, one of the 
 horfes took it into his head to ftand (till, and neither 
 blows nor entreaties could preva-1 with him to pro- 
 ceed. It was juft recovering from this difmal fitua- 
 tion that I found them; but perceiving every thing 
 fafe, I own their prefent mortification did not much 
 difpleafe me, as it would give me many opportuni- 
 ties of future triumph, and teach uiy daughters more 
 humility. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 The family Jlill refolve to bold up their beads. 
 
 MICHAELMAS-EVE happening on the next 
 day, we were invited to burn-nuts and play 
 tricks at neighbour Flamborough's. Our late mor- 
 tifications had humbled us a little, or it is probable 
 we might have rejected fiich an invitation with con- 
 tempt : however, we fuffered ourfelves to be happy. 
 Our honeft neighbour's goofe and dumplings were 
 fine; and the lamb's wool, even in the opinion of 
 my wife, who was a connoifeur, was excellent It 
 is tnie, hi;> manner of telling (tories was not quite fo 
 well. 1 hey were very long and very dull, and all 
 about himfrlf, and we had laughed at them ten times 
 before: however, we were kind enough to laugh at 
 them once more. 
 
 Mr. Burchell, who was of the party, was always 
 fond of feeing foire innocent amufement going for- 
 ward, and let the bnysand girls to blind man's buff. 
 My wife too was perfuaded to join in he diverfion, 
 and it gave me plealiire to think (lie was not yet too 
 old. In the mean time, my neighbour and I looked 
 on, laughed at every feat, and praifed our own 
 dexterity when we were young. Hot cockles fucceeded 
 
 next,
 
 70 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 next, queftions and commands followed that, and 
 laftofall, they fat down to hunt the Hipper. As 
 every perfon may not be acquainted with this primae- 
 val paftime, it may be neceffory to obferve, that the 
 company at this play plan tthemfelves in a ring upon 
 the ground, all except one, whoftands in the middle, 
 whofe bufinefs is to catch aflioe, which the company 
 fhove about under their hams from one to another, 
 fomething like a weaver's flmttle. As it is impoflible 
 in this cafe, for the lady who is up to face all the 
 company at once, the great beauty of the play lies 
 in hitting her a thump with the heel of the (hoe on 
 that fide lead capable of making defence. It was in 
 this manner that my eldett daughter was hemmed in 
 and thumped about, all blowzed, in fpirits, and 
 bawling for fair play, with a voice that might deafen 
 a ballad-finger; when, confufion on confulion, who 
 ihould enter the room but our great acquaintances 
 from town, Lady Blarney, and Mifs Carolina Wilel- 
 mina Amelia Skeggs ! Defcription would but beg- 
 gar, therefore it is unneceflary to defcribe this new 
 mortification. Death ! to be feen by ladies of fuch 
 high breeding in fuch vulgar attitudes! Nothing 
 better could enfue from fuch a vulgar play of Mr. 
 Flamborough's propofing. We feemed ftruck to 
 the ground for fome time, as if actually petrified 
 with amazement. 
 
 The two ladies had been at our houfe too fee us, 
 and finding us from home, came after us hither, as 
 they were uneafy to know what accident could have 
 kept us from church the day before. Olivia under- 
 took to be our prolocutor, and delivered the whole 
 in a fummary way, only faying, We were thrown 
 from our horfes. At which account the ladies were 
 greatly concerned ; but being told the family received 
 no hurt, they were extremely glad : but being in- 
 formed that we were almoft killed by the fright, the? 
 were vaftly forry; but hearing that we had a very 
 good night, they were extremely glad again. No- 
 thing could exceed their complaifance to my daugh- 
 ters j
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 71 
 
 ters ; their profeflions the laft evening were warm, 
 but now they were ardent. They protefted a defire 
 of having a more lading acquaintance. Lady Blar- 
 ney was particularly attached to Olivia ; Mifs Caro- 
 lina Wilelmina Amelia Skeggs (I love to give the 
 whole name) took a greater fancy to her fitter. 
 They fupported the converfation between themfelves, 
 while my daughters fat filent, admiring their exalted 
 breeding. But as every reader, however beggarly 
 liimfclf, is fond of high-lived dialogues, with anec-! 
 dotes of lords, ladies, and knights of the garter, I 
 muft beg leave to give him the concluding part of 
 the prefent converfation. 
 
 ' AH that I know of the matter," cries Mifs Skeggs, 
 
 * is this, that it may be true, or it may not be true : 
 ' but this I can affure your ladyfhip, that the whole 
 
 * rout was in amaze ; his lordfhip turned all manner 
 ' of colours, my lady fell into a fwoon; but Sir 
 
 * Tomkyn, drawing his fword, fwore he was hers 
 
 * to the laft drop of his blood.' 
 
 ' Well,' replied our peerefs, * this I can fay, that 
 ' the dutchefs never told me a fy liable of the matter, 
 ' and I believe her grace would keep nothing a fecret 
 ' from me. This you may depend on as a fat, 
 
 * that the next morning my lord duke cried out 
 
 * three times to his valet de chambre, Jernigan, Jer- 
 
 * nigan, Jernigan, bring me my garters.' 
 
 But previously I mould have mentioned the very 
 impolite behaviour of Mr. Burchell ; who, during 
 this difcourfe, fat with his face turned to the fire, 
 and at the conclufion of ever)' fentence would cry 
 out Fudge, an expreflion which difpleafedus all, and 
 in fome meafure damped the rifing fpirit of the con- 
 verfation. 
 
 * Befides, my dear Skeggs,' continued our peer- 
 efs, ' there is nothing of this in the copy of verfes 
 
 * that Dr. Burdock made upon the occafion/ 
 Fudge ! 
 
 ' I am furprized at that,' cried Mifs Skeggs; fot 
 
 * he feldom leaves any thing out, as he writes only 
 
 lor
 
 ii * y / o * L j 
 
 of telling fortunes upon the cards.' Fudge ! 
 When flie had delivered this pretty piece of elo- 
 quence, the two ladies looked at each other a few 
 minutes in filcnce, with an air of doubt and import- 
 ance. At lad Mifs Carolina Wilelmina Amelia 
 Skeggs condcfcended to obferve, * that the young 
 ladies, from the opinion fhe could form of them 
 from fo flight an acquaintance, feemed very fit for 
 fucli employments : but a thing of this kind, Ma- 
 dam,' cried flie, addreffing my fpoufe, requires 
 a thorough examination into characters, and a 
 more perfed't knowledge of each other. Not, 
 Madam/ continued flie, that I in the lead fuf- 
 peft the young ladies virtue, p.rudence, and dif- 
 cretion : but there is a form in thefe things, Ma- 
 dam ; there is a form.' Fudge! 
 VOL. I. C My
 
 74 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 My wife approved her fufpicions very much, ob- 
 ferving, that me was very apt to be fufpicious her- 
 felf; but referred her to all the neighbours for a 
 character : but this our peerefs declined as unnecef- 
 fary, alledging that her coufin Thornhill's recom- 
 mendation would be fufficient, and upon this we 
 refted our petition. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Fortune feems refolded to humble the family of Wake- 
 feld. Mortifications are often more pain- 
 ful than real calamities. 
 
 WHEN we were returned home, the night was 
 dedicated to fchemes of future conqueft. 
 Deborah exerted much fagacity in conjecturing 
 which of the two girls was likely to have the bed 
 place, and moft opportunities of feeing good com- 
 pany. The only obftacle to our preferment was in 
 obtaining the fquire's lecommendation; but he had 
 already fhewn us too many inftances of his friend- 
 fhip to doubt of it now. Even in bed my wife kept 
 up the ui'ual theme : ' Well, faith, my dear Charles, 
 between ourfelves, 1 think we have made an ex- 
 ' cellent day's work of it.' ' Pretty well,' cried 
 I, not knowing what to fay.' What, only pretty 
 well!' returned fhe. " I think it is very well. 
 ' Supp.ofe the girls fhould come to make acquain- 
 tances of tafte in town ! This I am allured of, 
 ' that London is the only place in the world for all 
 ' manner of hufbands. Befides, my dear, ftranger 
 things happen every day : and as ladies of quality 
 * are lo greatly taken with my daughters, what will 
 not men of quality be ! Entre nous, I proteft I 
 like my lady Blarney vaftly, fo very obliging. 
 However, Mifs Carolina Wilelmina Amelia Skeggs 
 ' has my warm heart. But yet, when they came 
 ' to talk of places in town, you faw at once how I 
 '< nailed them. Tell me, my dear, don't you think 
 I did for my children there?' < Aye,' returned 
 
 I, not
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 75 
 
 I, not knowing what to think of the matter, ' Hea- 
 * ven grant they may be both the better for it this 
 ' day three months!' This was one of thofe obfer- 
 vations I made to imprefs my wife with an opinion 
 of my fagacity; for if the girls Succeeded then it 
 was a pious wifh fulfilled; but if any thing unfor- 
 tunate enfued, then it might be looked upon as a 
 prophecy. All this converfation, however, was 
 only preparatory to another fcheme, and indeed I 
 dreaded as much. This was nothing lefs than, as 
 we were now to hold up our heads a little higher in 
 the world, it would be proper to fell the colt, which 
 was grown old, at a neighbouring fair, and buy us 
 an horfe that would carry fingle or double upon an 
 occafion, and make a pretty appearance at church 
 or upon a vifit. This at firft I oppofed ftoutly; but 
 it was as ftoutly defended. However, as I weak- 
 ened, my antagonifts gained ftrength, till at lalt it 
 was refoved to part with him. 
 
 As the fair happened on the following day, I had 
 intentions of going myfelf; but my wife perfiiaded 
 me that 1 had got a cold, and nothing could prevail 
 upon her to permit me from home. * No, my dear,* 
 fa:d ftie, ' our fon Mofes is a difcreet boy, and can, 
 buy and fell to very good advantage; you know- 
 all our great bargains are of his purchafmg. He 
 always Hands out and higgles, and actually tires 
 them till he gets a bargain. 
 
 As I had (bine opinion of my fon's pmdence, I 
 was willing enough to entruft him with this com- 
 miflion ; and the next morning I perceived his fif- 
 ters mighty bufy in fitting out Mofes for the fa : r; 
 trimming his hair, brufhing his buckles, and cock- 
 ing his hat with pins. The bufinefs of the toilet 
 being over, we had at laft the fatisfaftion of feeing 
 him mounted upon the colt, with a deal box before 
 him to bring home groceries in. He had on a ccat 
 made of that cloth they call thunder and lighnting, 
 which, though grown too fhort, was much too good 
 to be thrown away. His waiftcoat was of gulling 
 G a green,
 
 76 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 green, and his filters had tied his hair with a broad 
 black ribband. We-all followed him feveral paces 
 from the door, bawling after him, ' Good luck, 
 good luck/ till we could fee him no longer. 
 
 He was fcarce gone, when Mr. ThornhiU's but- 
 ler caine to congratulate us upon our good fortune, 
 faying, that he overheard his young mafter mention 
 our names with great commendation. 
 
 Good fortune ieemed refolved not to come alone. 
 Another footman from the fame family followed, 
 with a card for my daughters, importing, that the 
 two ladies had received fuch pleafing accounts from 
 Mr. Thornhill of us all, that after a few previous 
 enquiries, they hoped to be perfectly iatisfted. 
 ' Ay,' cried my wife, ' I now fee it is no eafy mat- 
 
 * ter to get inco the families of the great; but when 
 ' one once gets in, then, as Mofes fays, one may 
 
 * .go to deep. To this piece of humour, for fiie in- 
 tended it for wit, my daughters alTcnted with a loud 
 laugh of pleafure. In fhort, fuch was her fatisfac- 
 tion at this meffage, that me actually put her hand 
 in her pocket, and gave the meflenger feven-pence 
 halfpenny. 
 
 This was to be our vifiting-day. The next that 
 came was Mr. Burchell, >vho had been at the fair. 
 He brought my little ones a pennyworth of ginger- 
 bread each, which my wife undertook to keep for 
 them, and give them by letters at a time. He 
 brought my daughters alfo a couple of boxes in 
 which they might keep wafers, fnuff, patches, or 
 even money, when they got it. My wife was ufu- 
 ally fond of a weazen-lkin purfe, as being the mod 
 lucky: but this by the bye. We had (till a regard 
 for Mr. Burchell, 'though his late rude behaviour 
 was in fome meafure difpleafmg ; nor could we now 
 avoid communicating our happinefs to him, and 
 afking his advice : although we feldom followed ad- 
 vice, we were all ready enough to afk it. When 
 we read the note from the two ladies he fhook his 
 head, and obferved that an affair of this fort de- 
 
 manded
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 77 
 
 manded the utmoftcircumfpeclion. This air of dif- 
 fidence highly difpleafed my wife. ' I never doubt- 
 ed, Sir,' cried (he, ' your readinefs to be againft 
 my daughters and me. You have more circum- 
 fpeftion than is wanted. However, I fancy when 
 we come to aflc advice, we (hall apply to perfons 
 who feem to have made ufe of it themfelves.' 
 Whatever my own conduct may have been, Ma- 
 dam,' replied he, ' is not the prefent qneftion; 
 though as I have made no life or advife myfelf, I 
 (hould in confcience give it to thofe that will.' As 
 I was apprehenfive this anfwer might draw on a re- 
 partee, making up by abufe what it wanted in wit, 
 I changed the fubjedt, by feeming to wonder what 
 could keep our fon fo long at the fair, as it was now' 
 almoft night-fall. Never mind our fon,' cried my 
 wife; 'depend upon it he knows what he is about. 
 
 * I'll warrant we'll never fee him fell his hen on a 
 ' rainy day. I have feen him buy fuch bargains as 
 ' would amaze one. I'll tell you a good ftory about 
 ' that, that will make you fplit your fides with 
 
 * laughing. But as I live, yonder comes Mofes, 
 
 * without an horfe, and the box at his back.' 
 
 As (he fpoke, Mofes came flowly on foot, and 
 fweating under the deal box, which he had ftrapt 
 round his (boulders like a pedlar. * Welcome, 
 ' welcome, Mofes; well, my boy, what have you 
 ' brought us from the fair ?' ' I have brought you 
 ' myfelf,' cried Mofes, with a fly look, and refting 
 the box on the drefler. ' Aye, Mofes,' cried my 
 wife, ' that we know, but where is the horfc?' ' I 
 ' have fold him,' cried Mofes, ' for three pounds 
 ' five (hillings and two-pence.' ' Well done, my 
 ' good boy, returned (he, ' I knew you would 
 ' touch them off. Between ourfelves, three pounds 
 ' ' five (hillings and two-pence is no bad day's work. 
 ' Come let us have it then.' I have brought back 
 ' no money,' cried Mofes again. 1 have laid it 
 ' all out in a bargain, and here it is,' pulling" out a 
 bundle from his bread : here they are ; a groce of 
 G 3 green
 
 S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 green fpeftacles, with filver rims and fhagreen 
 cafes.' * A grace of green fpectacles!' replied 
 my wife in a faint voice. ' And you have parted 
 wilii the colt, and brought us back nothing hut a 
 groce of green paltry fpeftacles ! ' ' Dear mo- 
 ther,' cried the boy, * why won't you liften to 
 reafon ? I had them a dead bargain, or I fliould 
 not have bought them. The filver rims alone will 
 fell for double thfe money.' * A fig for the filver 
 rims,' cried my wife in a paffion : ' I dare fay they 
 won't fell for above half the money at the rate of 
 broken filver, five millings an ounce.' ( You 
 need be under no uneafirtefs,' cried I, ' about fel- 
 ling the rims; for they are not worth fixpence, 
 for I perceive they are only copper varniflied over.' 
 'What,' cried my wife, ' not filver! the rims 
 not filver!' ' No,' cried I, ' no more filver than 
 your faucepan.' ' And fo,' returned Hie, ' we 
 have parted with the colt, and have only got a 
 groce of green fpeftacles, with copper rims and 
 fhagreen cafes ! A murrain take fuch trumpery. 
 The blockhead has been impofed upon, and fliould 
 have known his company better.' ' There, my 
 dear,' cried I, you are wrong, he fliould not have 
 knov/n them at all.' ' Marry hang the idiot,' re- 
 turned flie, ' to bring me fuch ftuff; if I had them, 
 I would throw them in the fire.' ' There again 
 you are wrong, my dear,' cried I; 'for though 
 they be copper, we will keep them by us, as cop- 
 per fpeclacles, you know, are better than nothing.' 
 By'this time the unfortunate Mofes was unde- 
 ceived. He now faw that he had indeed been im- 
 pofed upon by a prowling fharper, who, obferving 
 his figure, had marked him for an eafy prey. I 
 therefore aflted him the circumftance of his decep- 
 tion. He fold the horfe, it feems, and walked the 
 fair in fearch of another. A reverend looking man 
 brought him to a tent, under pretence of having 
 one to fell. ' Here,' continued Mofes, ' we met 
 another man very well dreft, who deiired to bor- 
 
 row
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 79 
 
 row twenty pounds upon thefe, faying tfrat he 
 wanted money, and would difpofe of them for a 
 third of the value. The firft gentleman, who pre- 
 tended-to be my friend, whifperedme to buy them, 
 and cautioned me not to let fo good an offer pals. 
 I fent for Mr. Flamborough, and they talked .him 
 up as finely as they did me, and fo at laft we were 
 perfuaded to buy the two groce between us.' 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Mr Burcbell is found to be an enemy ; for be has the 
 confidence to gi<ve dif agree able advice. 
 
 /^\UR family had now made feveral attempts to be 
 
 ^^ fine; but fome unforefeen difafter demolished 
 
 each as foon as projected. I endeavoured to take 
 
 the advantage of every difappointment, to improve 
 
 their good fenfe in proportion as they were fruflrated 
 
 in ambition. ' You fee, my children,' cried I, 'how 
 
 little is to be got by attempts to impofe upon the 
 
 world, in coping with our betters. Such a* are 
 
 poor and will aflbciate with none but the rich, are 
 
 hated by thofe they avoid, and defpifed by thofe 
 
 they follow. Unequal combinations are always 
 
 difadvantageous to the weaker fide ; the rich having 
 
 the pleafure, and the poor the inronveniencies that 
 
 refult from them. But come, Dick, my boy, and 
 
 repeat the fable you were reading to-day for the 
 
 good of the company.' 
 
 * Once upon a time, cried the child, 'a giant and 
 a dwarf were friends, and kept together. They 
 made a bargain they never would forfalte each 
 -other, but go feck adventures. The firft battle 
 they fought was with two Saracens, and the dwarf, 
 who was very courageous, dealt one of the champ- 
 ions a moft angry blow. It did the Sar.n.rn but 
 very little injury, who lifting up his fword, fairly 
 ftruck off the poor dwarf's arm. He was now in a 
 woeful plight ; but the giant coming to his alTKl- 
 ance, in a fhort time left the two Saracens dead on 
 
 4 the
 
 So VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 ' the plain, and the dwarf cut off the dead man's 
 head out of fpite. Then they travelled on to 
 ' another adventure. This was againft three bloody 
 
 * minded fatyrs, who were carrying away a damfel 
 
 * in diftrefs. The dwarf was not quite fo fierce now 
 as before; but for all that, ftruck the firft blow, 
 which was returned by another that knocked out 
 
 * his eye : but the g ant was foon up with them, and 
 had they not fled, would certainly have killed them 
 
 * every one. They were all very joyful for this 
 ' victory, and the damfel who was relieved fell in 
 ' love with the giant, and married him. They now 
 ' travelled far, and farther than I can tell, till they 
 ' met with a company of robbers. The giant for 
 ' the firft time, was foremoft now ; but the dwarf 
 ' was not far behind. The battle was (lout and 
 
 * long. Wherever, the giant came, all fell before 
 ' him ; but the dwarf had like to have been killed 
 ' more than once. At laft the victory declared for 
 
 * the two adventurers ; but the dwarf loft his leg.. 
 ' The dwarf had' now loft an arm, a leg, and an eye, 
 
 * while the giant was without a (ingle wound. Up- 
 on which he cried out to his little companion, 
 My little hero, this is glorious fport ; let us get 
 ' one victory more, and then we (hall have honour 
 ' forever.' 'No,' cries the dwarf, who by this 
 time was grown wifer, ' no, I declare off; I'll fight 
 
 * no more : for I find in every battle, that you get 
 all the honour and rewards, but all the blow falls 
 ' upon me.' 
 
 I was going to moralize upon this fable, when our 
 attention was called off to a warm difpute between 
 my wife and Mr. Burchell, upon my daughters in- 
 tended expedition to town. My w ife very ftrenouily 
 infifted upon the advantages that would refult from 
 it. Mr. Burchell, on the contrary, diffuaded her 
 with great ardour, and I ftood neuter. Mis prefent 
 difTuations feemed but the fecond part of tliofe which 
 were received with fo ill a grace in the morning. 
 The difpute grew high, while poor Deborah, inftead 
 
 m
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 81 
 
 of reafoning ftronger, talked louder, and at laft was 
 obliged to take ftielter from a defeat in clamour. 
 The conclusion of her harangue, however, was 
 highly difpleafiog to us all : (he knew, (he faid, of 
 ibme who had their fccret reafons for what they ad- 
 vifcd ; but for her part, (he wiflied fuch to (lay away 
 from her houfe for the future. 'Madam' cried 
 Burchell, with looks of great compofure, which 
 tended to inflame her the more, ' a's for fecret rea- 
 fons, you are right ; I have fecret reafons, which 
 I forbear to mention, becaufe you are not able to 
 anfwer thofe of which I make no fecret : But I 
 find my viiits here are become troublefome; I'll 
 take my leave therefore now, and perhaps come 
 once more to take a final farewel when I am quitting 
 the country.' Thus faying, he took up his hat, 
 nor could the attempts of Sophia, whofe looks 
 feemed to upbraid his precipitancy, prevent his 
 going. 
 
 When gone, we all regarded each other for fome 
 minutes with confufion. My wife, who knew her- 
 fclf to be the caufe, (trove to hide her concern with 
 a forced fmile, and an air of aU'urance, \\hich' I was 
 willing to reprove : ' How, woman, cried I to her, 
 is it thus we treat Grangers ? Is it thus we return 
 their kindnefs? Be alfured, my dear, that thefe 
 were the harfheft words, and to me tli^ moft un- 
 pleafing that ever efcaped your lips!' 'Why 
 would he provoke me then ? replied ihe ; ' but I 
 know the motives of his advice perfectly well. 
 He would prevent my girls from going to town, 
 that he may have the pleafure of my youngeft 
 daughter's company here at home. But, what- 
 ever happens, (he (hall choofe better company than 
 fuch low-liv'd fellows as he.' ' Low-liv'd, my 
 dear, do you call him,' cried I, 'it is very pofiible 
 we may miftake this man's character:, for he feems 
 upon fome occafions the moft finHhed gentleman I 
 ever knew. Tell me, Sophia, my girl, has he 
 ever given you any fecret inftances of his attach- 
 
 ' ment :'
 
 Ss VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * ment?' ' His converfation with me, Sir,' replied 
 my daughter, 'has ever been fenfible, modell, and 
 pleafing. As to aught elfe ; no, never. Once 
 indeed I remember to have heard him fay, he 
 never knew a woman who could find merit in a 
 man that feemed poor.' ' Such, my dear,' cried 
 , is the common cant of all the unfortunate or idle. 
 But I hope you have been taught to judge properly 
 of fuch men, and that it would be even madnefs 
 to expect happinefs from one who has been fo very 
 bad an ceconomift of his own. Your mother and 
 I have now better profpefts for you. The 
 next winter, which you will probably fpend in 
 town, will give you opportunities of making a 
 more prudent choice.' 
 What Sophia's reflecl: ; ons were upon this occafion 
 I cannot pretend to determine; but I was not dif- 
 pleafed at the bottom, that we were rid of a gueft 
 from whom 1 had much to fear; Our breach of 
 hofpitality went to my confcience a little: but I 
 quickly filencedthat monitor by two or three fpecious 
 reafons, which ferved to fatisfy and reconcile me to 
 myfelf. The pain which conicience gives the man 
 who has already done wrong, is foon got over. 
 Confcience is a coward, and thofe faults it has not 
 ftrength to prevent, it feldom has juftice enough to 
 accuie. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Frejb mortifications, or a demon firm ton that feeming 
 
 calamities may be real blejj : ngs. 
 r T 1 HE journey of my daughters to town was now 
 -* refolved upon, Mr. Thornhill having kindly 
 promifed to infpect their conduct himfelf, and inform 
 us by letter of their behaviour. But it was thought 
 indifpenfably rKcefTary that their appearance fhould 
 equal the greatnefs of their expectations, which 
 could not be done without expence. We debated, 
 therefore, in full council, what were the eafiell me- 
 thods
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 83 
 
 thods of raiting money ; or, more properly fpeaking, 
 what we could moft conveniently fell. The delibe- 
 ration was foon finiflied; it was found that our re- 
 maining horfe was utterly ufelefs for the plough 
 without his companion, and equally unfit for the 
 road, as wanting an eye : it was therefore determined 
 that we (houlddifpofe of him for the purpofes above- 
 mentioned, at the neighbouring fair; and, to prevent 
 impofition, that I mould go with him niyfelf. 
 Though this was one of the firft mercantile tranfac- 
 tions of my life, yet I had no doubt about acquitting 
 mylelf with reputation. The opinion a man form* 
 of his own prudence is meafuredby that of the com- 
 pany he keeps ; and as mine was moftly in the family 
 way, I had conceived no unfavourable fentiments of 
 my worldly wifdom. My wife, however, next 
 morning, at parting, after I had got fome paces from 
 the door, called me back, to advife me, in a whif- 
 per, to have all my eyes about me. 
 
 I had, in the ufual forms, when I came to the 
 fair, put my horfe through all his paces; but for 
 fome time had no bidders. At laft a chapman ap- 
 proached, and after he had for a good while exa- 
 mined the horfe round, finding him blind of one 
 eye, he would have nothing to fay to him ; a fecond 
 came up, but obferving he had afpavin, declared he 
 would not take him for the driving home ; a third 
 perceived he had a windgall, and would bid no mo- 
 ney ; a fourth knew by his eye that he had the 
 botts ; a fifth wondered what a plague I could do at 
 the fair with a blind, fpavined, galled hack, t':ut 
 was only fit to be cut up for a dog-kennel. By 
 this time I began to have a moft hearty contempt 
 for the poor animal myfelf, and was almoft ufhami'4 
 at the approach of every cuftomer : for though I 
 did not entirely believe all the fellows told me ; yet 
 I reflected that the number of witnefles was a ftrong 
 prefumption they were right ; and St. Gregory up- 
 on good works, profefles himfelf to be of the fame 
 pinion. 
 
 I was
 
 *+ VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 I was in this mortifying fituation, when a brother 
 clergyman, an old acquaintance, who had alfo bufi- 
 fiefs to the fair, came up, and fhaking me by the 
 hand, propofed adjourning to a public-houfe, and 
 taking a glafs of whatever we could get. I rea- 
 dily clofed with the offer, and entering an ale- 
 houfe, we were fliewn into a little back room, where 
 there was only a venerable old man, who fat wholly 
 intent over a large book, which he was reading. I 
 never in my life law a figure that prepolfeflTed me 
 more favourably. His locks of filver grey venera- 
 bly (haded his temples, and his green old age feemed 
 to be the refiilt of health and benevolence. How- 
 ever, his prefence did not interrupt our converfa- 
 tion ; my friend and I difcourfed on the various 
 turns of fortune we had met : the Yf hjftonian con- 
 troverfy, my laft pamphlet, the archdeacon's reply, 
 and the hard meafure that was dealt me. But our 
 attention was in a fhort time taken off by the appcar- 
 unce of a youth, who, entering the room, refpeft- 
 fully laid fomething foftly to the old ftranger. 
 ' Make no apologies, my child,' faid the old man ; 
 ' to do good is a duty we owe to all our fellow - 
 * creatures : take this, I wifh it were more : but 
 ' five pounds will relieve your diftrefs, and you 
 ' are welcome ' The mode/t youth fhed tears of 
 gratitude, and yet his gratitude was fcarce equal to 
 mine. I could have hugged the good old man in 
 my arms, his benevolence pleafed me fo. He con- 
 tinued to read, and we reiumed our conversation, 
 i;n;il my companion, 'after fome time, recollecting 
 that he 'had buiinefs to tranfaft in the fair,'promifcd 
 to be ibon back ; adding, that he always defired to 
 have as much of Dr. Primrofe's company as pofll- 
 b!e. The old'gentleman hearing ray name mention- 
 eel, feemed to look at me with attention, for fome 
 time, and' when my friend wa$ gone, moft refpet- 
 fully demanded if I was related to the great Prim- 
 . that courageous monogamift, who had been the 
 bulwark of the church. Never did my heart frel 
 
 finccrer
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 9g 
 
 fincerer rapture than at that moment. ' Sir,' cried 
 3, ' the applaufe of fo good a man, as I am fine you 
 are, adds to that happinefs in my breafr which your 
 4 bentvolerce has already excited. You behold 
 ' before you, Sir, that Dr. Primro'e, the monoga- 
 
 * mift, whom yoi. have been pleafed to call fo great. 
 
 * You here fee that unfortunate divine, who has fo 
 ' long, and it would ill become me to fay fucecis- 
 fully, fought againfl the deuterogamy of the age.* 
 ' Sir,' cried the flranger, flruck with awe, ' I 
 ' fear 1 have been too f.m.iliar j but you'll forgive 
 
 * my curiofity, Sir, I beg pardon. 'T' Sir,' cried I, 
 grafping his hand, ' you are fo fur from difpleafing 
 4 me by your familiarity, that I muft beg you'll ac- 
 ' rept of my friendfhip, as you already have my 
 
 ' elteem.' ' Then with gratitude I accept the 
 
 ' offer,' cried lie, fqueezing me by the hand, ' thou 
 
 * gloiious pillar of unfliaken orthodoxy ; and do I 
 ' behold I here interrupted what he was going 
 to fay ; for though, as an author, I could d geft no 
 final I (hare of flatter)', yet now my modcfty would 
 permit no more. However, no lovers in romance 
 ever cemented a more inftantaneous friendfhip. We 
 talked upon feveral fubjects : at firfl, I thought him 
 rather devout than learned, and began to think he 
 defpifed ail human doctrines as drois. Yet this no 
 v. ay leflened him in my efleem ; for I had for fome 
 time begun privately to harbour fuch an opinion 
 inyfelf. I therefore took occafion to obferve, That 
 the v\orid in genera! began to be blameably indiffe- 
 rent as to doctrinal matters, and followed human 
 fpeciilation too much. ' Aye, Sir, repl : ed he, as if 
 he had refervcd all his learning to that moment ; 
 
 Aye, Sir, the world is in its dotage, and yet the 
 cofhionogy or creation ct the world lra> puzzled 
 ph lofophers cf ;>M ares. What a medley c-f opi- 
 nions IK:', e they not br. ached upon the creation of 
 rhewcrM ? Sar.cotriathon, IVLiriefho, Rerofus, and 
 Ccellt;s Lucanus, h;-vc all attempted it in vain, 
 i 'is : Anarcbon ata tai atelu- 
 VUL. 1. H ' laion
 
 86 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 'talon to pan, which imply, that ail thmgs have nei- 
 ther beginning or end. Manetho alio, who lived 
 about the time of Nebuchadon-Affer, Afi'er being 
 a Syriac word, ufually applied as a lirname to the 
 kings of this country, as Teglat PhaeUAOer ; Na- 
 bon- After ; he, I Iky, formed a conjecture equahy 
 abfurd ; for as we ufually fay ek to bibhon kuber- 
 netes, which implies that books will never teach 
 the world; fo he attempted to inveftigate. But, 
 Sir, I alk pardon, lamftrayingirom the quefhon. 
 That he actually was ; nor couid I tor my lite 
 how the creation of the world had any thing to do 
 with the bulinefs I was talking of ; but it was fuhi- 
 cient to (hew me that he was a man ot letters, and L 
 now reverenced him the more. 1 was reiolved 
 therefore to bring him to the touchftone ; but .h 
 was too mild and too gentle to contend tor viu.ory. 
 Whenever I made any obfervation that looked h>< 
 a challenge to controverfy, he would fmile, (bake 
 his head, and fay nothing ; by which I under! to ; >J. 
 he could fay much, if he thought proper. The hib- 
 iecT: therefore, inienlibly changed from the bufanets 
 of antiquity to that which brought us to the tair ; 
 mine, I 'told him, was to fell an horfe, and very 
 luckily indeed, his was to buy one for one of his te- 
 nants My horfe was foon produced, and in hue 
 we (truck a bargain. Nothing now remained but t 
 pay me, and he accordingly pulled our a thirty 
 pound bank note, and bid me change it. Not t 
 in a capacity of complying with his demand, he or- 
 dered his footman to be called up, who made his ap- 
 pearance in. a very genteel livery < Here, Abr 
 ' ham,' cried he, go and get gold tor this ; you .1 do 
 it at neighbour Jackfon's, or any where. \. ni 
 the fellow was gone, he entertained me with a pa- 
 thetic harangue on the great fcarcityoi l.lyer, wlv.c! 
 I undertook to improve, bv deploring a!io the ,-:- 
 fcatcityofgoWj io that bv the time Abratera re, 
 turned, wehud both agreed Ul ' neverft 
 
 hard to be come at as now. AbninaW returj < 
 
 iiior*Ti
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. S 7 
 
 inform us, that he had been over the whole fair and 
 could not get change, though he had offered half a 
 crown for doing it. This was a very great difap- 
 pointment to us all ; but the old gentleman having 
 panfed a little, afked me if I knew one Solomon 
 Flamborough in my part of the country: upon re- 
 plying that he was my next door neighbour, ' If that 
 be the cafe then/ returned he, ' I believe we fhall 
 deal. You fhall have a draught upon him, payable 
 at fight ; and let me tell you, he is as warm a man 
 as any within five miles round him. Honeft Solo- 
 mon and I have been acquainted for many years 
 together. I remember I always beat him at three 
 jumps ; but he could hop upon one leg farther 
 than I.' A draft upon my neighbour was to me 
 the lame as money ; for I was fufliciently convinced 
 of his ability ; the draft was figned and put into my 
 liand?, and Mr. Jenkinfon, the old gentleman, his 
 man Abraham, and my horfe, old Blackberry, trotted 
 off very well pleafed with each other. 
 
 After a ftoort interval, being left to refle6tion, I 
 began to recollect that I had done wrong in tak : ng 
 a draft from a ftranger, and fo prudently refolved 
 upon following the purchafer, and having back 
 lay horfe. But this was now too late : I therefore 
 made directly homewards, refolving to get the draft 
 changed into money at my friend's as fait as poflible. 
 I found my honed neighbour fmoaking his pipe at 
 his own door, and informing him that I had a frnall 
 bill upon him, he read it twice over. ' You can 
 4 read the name I fuppofe,' cried I, 'Ephraim Jenkin- 
 ' fun.' * Yes,' returned he, ' the name is written 
 
 * plain enough, and I know the gentleman too, the 
 ' greateft ralcal under the canopy of heaven. This 
 
 * is the very fame rogue who fold us the fpec~lacles. 
 
 * W?s he not a venerable looking man, with grey 
 4 hair, and no flaps to his pocket holes? And did he 
 4 not talk a long Itring of learning about Greek, and 
 
 * cofmogony, and the world?' '1 o this I replied 
 ' v.uh a roan. ' Aye,' continued he, 'he has but 
 
 Ha 'one
 
 8 8 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 ' one piece of learning in the world, and he always 
 talks it wherever he finds a fcholar in company : 
 * but I know the rogue, and will catch him yet.' 
 
 Though I was already fufficiently mortified, my 
 greatest ftruggle was to come, in facing my wife and 
 daughters. No truant was ever more afraid of re- 
 turning to ichool, there to behold the matter's vifage 
 tlian I was of going home. I was determined, how- 
 ever, to anticipate their fury, by firft falling into a 
 paifion myfelf. 
 
 But, alas! upon entering, I found the family no 
 way difpofed for battle. My wife and girls were 
 all in tears, Mr. Thornhill having been there that 
 day to inform them, that their journey to town was 
 entirely over. The two ladies having heard reports 
 of us from fome malicious perfon, were that day fet out 
 for London. He could neither difcover the ten- 
 dency, nor the author of theft, but whatever they 
 might be, or whoever might have broached them, 
 he continued to affhre our family of his friendship 
 and protection. I found, therefore, that they bore 
 my difappointment with great resignation, as it was 
 eclipfed in the great nefs of their own. But what 
 perplexed us molt was to think who could be fo baS'e 
 as to afperfe the character of a family fo harmlefs as 
 ours ; too humble to excite envy, and too inoften- 
 five to create difguft. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 All Mr. Burchell's villainy at once detefled. The folly 
 of being overiuife. 
 
 r pHAT evening, and part of the following day, 
 * were employed in fruitlefs attempts to difcover 
 our enemies: fcarce a family in the neighbourhood 
 but incurred our fufjiicions, and each of us hadreu- 
 fons for our opinion bell known to ourfelves. As 
 \ve were in this perplexity, one of our little boys, 
 who had been playing abroad, brought in a letter- 
 cafe, which he found on the green. It was quickly 
 known to belong to Mr. Burchell, with whom it had 
 
 been
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. S 9 
 
 been feen ; and upon examination, contained f me 
 hints upon different fubjeils ; but v hat \ anicularly 
 engaged our attention, was a fealed note, fiijcr- 
 fcribrd, 'The copy of a letter to be fent to the ladies 
 4 at Thornhill Caftle.' It infiantly occurred, thaf 
 he was thebafe informer ; and we deliberated, w he- 
 ther the note fhould not be broke open. I v. as again ft 
 it ; but Sophia, who faid fhe was fure that of al. men 
 he would be laft to be guilty of fo much bafenefs, 
 infifted upon its being read. In this (he was (econdtd 
 by the reft of the family; and, at their joint feli- 
 citation, I read as follows : 
 
 4 I.ATIES, 
 
 4 THE bearer will fufficienrly fatisfy you as to the 
 ' pei fon from w horn this conies : one at leafi the 
 
 * friend of innocence, ar.d ready to prevent its be.ng 
 4 feduced. I am informed for a truth, that you 
 4 have feme intention of bringing two young ladies 
 4 to town, whom I have fome knowledge of under 
 the cliaradier cf companions. As I would nei;her 
 
 have fimpiirity impofed upon, nor virtue con- 
 
 * laminated, I nuift offer it as my opinion that the 
 
 * impropriety of fuch a Hep will be attended with 
 
 * dangerous confcquences. It has never been my 
 4 way to treat the infamous or the lewd with fe- 
 ' verity; nor fhculd 1 now have taken this method 
 4 of explaining inyfelf, or reproving folly, d;d it 
 4 not aim at guilt. Take therefore the admonition 
 ' of a friend, and ferioufly reflect on the confe- 
 4 quer.ces of introducing infamy and vice into re- 
 4 treats where peace and innocence have hitherto 
 refided.' 
 
 * Our doubts were now at an end. There feemed 
 indeed fomcthing applicable to both fides in this let- 
 ter, and it'^ cc-nfi.ics n.ijjht as well be referred to 
 thofe to v. Jioni it was written, as to us; but the 
 n alicious meaning was obvious, and we went no 
 
 r. My v ifo had fcarre pativnre to hear me to 
 :;d, but railed at the w liter with unreftrained 
 lefentiucnt. Olivia wa>; equally fevere, and Sophia 
 H 3 feemed
 
 90 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 feemed perfectly amazed at his bafenefs. As for 
 my part, jt appeared to me one of the vilell infiances 
 of unprovoked ingratitude I had ever met with. 
 Nor could I account for it in any other manner than 
 by imputing it to his defire of detaining my youn^eft 
 daughter in the country, to have the more frequent 
 opportunities of an interview. In this manner we 
 all fat ruminating upon fchemes of vengeance, when 
 our other little boy came running in to tell us, that 
 Mr. Burchell was approaching at the other end of 
 the field. ' It is eafier to conceive than defcribe the 
 complicated fenfations which are felt from the pain 
 of a recent injury, and the pleafure of approach in" 
 vengeance. Though our intentions were only to 
 upbraid him with his ingratitude ; yet it was refolv- 
 ed to do it in a manner that would be perfectly cut- 
 ting. For this purpofe we agreed to meet him with 
 our ufual fmiles, to chat in the beginning with more 
 than ordinary kindnefs, to armife him a little; and 
 then, in the midft of the flattering calm, to burft 
 upon him like an earthquake, and overwhelm Iv'm 
 with the fenfe of his own bafenefs. This beino- re- 
 Jolved upon, my wife undertook to manage the bit- 
 finefs herfelf, as flie really had fome taints torfudi 
 an undertaking. We faw him approach, he en- 
 tered, drew a chair, and fat down. < A fine dav 
 ' Mr. Burchell. '-< A very fine day, doctor; though 
 
 I fancy we fliall have fome rain, by the fhootmg 
 of my corns.'' The fhooring of your horns? 
 cried rny wife, i n a loud fit of lau<>hter, and then 
 aiked pardon for being fond of a" joke. Dear 
 ' Madam,' replied he, < I pardon you with all my 
 ' heart; for I proteil I mould not have thought it 
 
 * a joke, had you not told me.'' Perhaps not^Sir,' 
 cried my wife, winking at us; < and yet I dare fay 
 you can tell us how many jokes go to an ounce.'' 
 .' I fancy, Madam,' returned BurcheH, ' you have 
 1 been reading a jeft book this morning, that ounce 
 ot jokes is fo very good a conceit; and yet, Ma- 
 
 * dam, I had rather iee half an ounce of undcr- 
 
 lianding.'
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 91 
 
 * flanding.' ' I believe you might,' cried my wife, 
 ftiil finiling at us, though the laugh wasagainft her; 
 
 * and yet 1 have fcen feme men pretend to under-- 
 ' Handing, that have very little.' ' And no doubt,' 
 replied her antagonist,' you have known ladies Jet 
 
 * up for wit that had none.' I quickly began to 
 find, that my wife was likely to gain but little at 
 this bufinefs ; fo I refolved to treat him in a ftile of 
 more leverity myfelf. ' Both wit and underftand- 
 
 * ing,' cried I, * are triflles without integrity; it is 
 
 * that which gives value to every character; the 
 ignorant peafant, without fault, is greater than 
 ' the philosopher with many; for wkat is genius 
 ' or courage without an heart? An boncjt man's the 
 1 Nobleft iLiri of God.' 
 
 * I always held that hackneyed maxim of Pope,' 
 returned Mr. Burchell, ' as very unworthy a man 
 ' of genius, and a bafe defertion of his own fupe- 
 
 * riority. As the reputation of books is raifed not 
 
 * by their freedom from defect, but the greatnefs 
 of their beauties; fo mould that of men be prized 
 ' not from their exemption from fault, but the fize 
 ' of thofe virtues they are pofTeded of. The fcho- 
 
 * lar may \vant prudence, the ftatefman may have 
 
 * pride, and the champion ferocity; but fliall we 
 
 * prefer to thefe the low mechanic, who laborioufly 
 4 plods on through life without cenfure or applaufe ? 
 
 * We might as well prefer the tame correct paint- 
 ' ings of the Ftemiw ichool, to the erroneous, but 
 
 * ftiblimc animations of the Roman pencil.' 
 
 'Sir,' replied I, 'your prefent obfervation isjuft, 
 ' when there are (hining virtues and minute defects; 
 ' !)ut v. hen ifappears that great vices are oppofed 
 ' in the lame mind to as extraordinary virtues, inch 
 ' a charac\x j r defcrvcs contempt.' 
 
 ' Perhaps,' cried he, ' there may be fbme fuch 
 ' mongers as yen dcfcribe, of great vices joined to 
 ' great virtues; yet in my progrefs through life, I 
 ' never yet found one infhnoe of their exiflence : on 
 4 the coi.trarv, I Lave ever perceived that where 
 
 1 the
 
 92 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 < the mind was capacious, the affeftions were good. 
 ' And indeed Providence feems kindly our friend in 
 
 * this particular, thus to debilitate the underftandino- 
 ' where the heart is corrupt, and dirninifh the power 
 1 where there is the will to do mifchief. This rule 
 ' feems to extend even to other animals : the little 
 
 * vermin race are ever treacherous, cruel, and cow- 
 ardly; whilft thofe endowed with flrength and 
 
 * power, are generous, brave and gentle.' 
 
 Thefe obfervations found well,' returned I, 
 and yet it would be eafy this moment to point out 
 
 * a man,' and I fixed my eye ftedfaftiy upon him, 
 whofe head and heart form a mod deferable con- 
 
 traft. Aye, Sir,' continued I, raifing my 'voice, 
 
 * and I am glad of having this opportunity of de- 
 4 tefting him in the midft of his fancied fccurity. 
 4 Do you ^know this, Sir, this pocket-book?' 
 4 Yes, Sir,' returned he with a face of impenetrable 
 aflurance, ' that pocket-book is mine, and I am 
 4 glad you have found it.' ' And do you know,' 
 cried I, ' this letter? Nay, never faulter, man; but 
 ' look me tuil in the face: I fay, do you know this 
 4 letter?'' That letter,' returned he; 'yes, it 
 4 was I that wrote that letter.'' And how could 
 ' you,' faid I, ' fo bafely, fo ungratefully, prefume- 
 1 to write this letter?'' And how came you,' re- 
 plied he, with looks of unparalleled effrontery, To 
 1 bafeiy to prefume to break open this letter ? Don't 
 4 you know, now, I could hang you for this? 
 ' All that I have to do, is to fwear at the next fuf- 
 ' tice's, that you have been .guilty of breaking open 
 4 the lock of my pocket book, and fo hanjiyou all 
 
 * up at this door.' This piece of unexpected in fa- 
 ience raifed me to fuch a pitch that I could feurce 
 govern my paflion. ' Ungrateful wrerch, be gone, 
 4 and no longer pollute my dwelling- with thy bafe- 
 ' nefs. Ee gone, and never let me" fee thee a<jain : 
 go from my door, and the only pimifhment \\\\[\\ 
 ( thee is an alarmed confcience, 'wlrcli will be a fuf- 
 ' ftcient tormentor!' So faying, 1 threw him his 
 
 pocket-
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 93 
 
 pocket-book, which he took up with a fmile, and 
 Shutting the clafps, with the utmoft compofure, left 
 xis quite aftonifhed at the ferenity of his affurance. 
 My wife was particularly enraged that nothing could 
 make him angry, or make him amamed of his vil- 
 lanies. < My dear,' cried 1, willing to calm thofe 
 paflions that had been raifed too high among us, 
 we are not to be furprized that bad men want 
 fiiame; they only blufh at being detected in doing 
 good, but glory in their vices.' 
 ' Guilt and fhame, (fays the allegory) were at firft 
 companions, and in the beginning of their journey 
 infer, ai ably kept together. But their union was 
 fcon found to be difagreeable and inconvenient to 
 both ; guilt gave /baine frequent uneafmefs, and 
 fliame often betrayed the fecret confpiracies of 
 guilt. After long difagreement therefore they at 
 length confented to part for ever. Guilt boldly 
 walked forward aloe,'to overtake Fate, that went 
 before in the fhape of an executioner: but Shame 
 being naturally timorous, returned back to keep 
 company with virtue, which in the beginning of 
 their journey they lizd left behind. Thus, my 
 children, after men have travelled through a few 
 ftages in vice, fhame forfakes them, and returns 
 back to wait upon the few virtues they have ftill 
 remaining.' 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 tte family tife art, jvcbicb is oppofed by ftill greater. 
 
 WHATEVER 5-night have been Sophia's fenfa- 
 tions, the rqft of the family were eafily con- 
 foled for Mr. BurchelTs abfence by the company 
 of our landlord, whofe vifits now became more fre- 
 quent and longer. Though he had been difap- 
 pointed in procuring my daughters the amufements 
 of the town, as he defigned, he took every oppor- 
 tunity of fupplying them with thofe little recrea- 
 tions which our retrement would admit <Jf. He 
 ufually came in the morning, and while my fon and 
 
 I ful-
 
 94 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 I followed our occupations abroad, he fat with the 
 family at home, and amufed them by defcribin^ the- 
 town, with every part of which he was particularly 
 acquainted. He could repeat all the obfervations 
 that were retailed in the atmofpherc of the play- 
 houfes, and had all the good things of the high 
 wits by rote long before they made way into the jelt- 
 books. The intervals between converfation were 
 employed in teaching my daughters piquet ; or, 
 ibmetimes in letting my two little ones to box, to 
 make themjbarp, as he called it : but the hopes of 
 having him for a fon-in-kr.v, in fome meafure 
 blinded us to all his imperfections. It muft be 
 owned that my wife laid a thoufand fcliemes to en- 
 trap him ; or, to fpeak it more tenderly, ufed every 
 art to magnify the merit of her daughter. If the 
 cakes at tea eat ihort and crifp, they were made by- 
 Olivia; if the goofeberry wine was well knit, t!i2 
 goofeberries were of her gathering: it was her 
 fingers which gave the pickles their peculiar green; 
 and in the composition of a pudding, it was her 
 judgment that mixed the ingredients. Then the 
 poor woman would fometimes tell the fquire, that 
 flie thought him and Olivia extremely of a fize, and 
 would bid both (land up to fee which was tailed. 
 Thefe inftances of cunning, which fhe thought im- 
 penetrable, yet which every body faw through, 
 were very pleafing to our benefactor, who gave 
 every day fome new proof of his paflion, which 
 though they had not arifen to propofals of mar- 
 riage, yet we thought but very little ihort of it : 
 and his flownefs was attributed fometimes to native 
 bamfulnefs, and fometimes his fear of offending his 
 uncle. An occurrence, however, which happened 
 foon after, put it beyond a doubt, that he defigned' 
 to become one of our family ; my wife even re- 
 garded it as an abfolute promife. 
 
 My wife and daughter happening to return a vifit 
 to neighbour Flamborough's, found that family had 
 lately got their pictures drawn by a limner, who 
 
 travelled
 
 .CAR OF WAKEFIELD. 95 
 
 travelled the country, and took hkenefles at fifteen 
 ill ill ings a head. As this family and ours had long 
 a fort of rivalry in point of tafte, our fpirit took the 
 alarm at this ftolen march upon us, and notwith- 
 ftanding all I could fay, and I faid much, it was re- 
 folved that we fhould have our pictures don~- to. 
 Having, therefore, engaged the limner, (for what 
 could 1 do) our next deliberation was to fhew the 
 fuperiority of our tafte in the attitudes. As for our 
 neighbour's family, there were feven of them, and 
 they were drawn with feven oranges, a thing quite 
 out of tafte, no variety in life, no compofition in the 
 world. We defired to have fomething in a brighter 
 ftyle, and afccr many debates, at length came to an 
 unanimous refolution of being drawn together, in 
 one large hiftorical family piece. This would be 
 cheaper, fince one frame would ferve for all, and it 
 would be infinitely more genteel; for all families of 
 any tafte were now drawn in the fame manner. As 
 we did not immediately recollect an hiftorical fubjedl 
 to hit us, we were contented each with being drawn 
 as independent hiftorical figures. My wife defired 
 to be rep refented as Venus, and the painter was de- 
 fired not to be too frugal of his diamonds in her fio- 
 macher and hair. Her two little ones were to be as 
 Cupids by. her fide, while I, in my gown and band, 
 was to prefent her with my books on the Wltiftoman 
 cuntroverfy. Olivia would be drawn as an Amazon 
 fitting upon a bank of flowers, dreft in a green jo- 
 leph, richly laced with gold, and a whip in her iiand. 
 Sophia was to be a Shepherdefs, with as many Ifreep 
 as the painter could put in for nothing; and Mofes 
 was to be drefled out with an hat and white feather. 
 Our tafte fo much pleafed the fquire, that he in- 
 fined on being put in as one of the family, in the 
 character of Alexander the Great, at Olivia's feet. 
 1 his was confidered by us all as an indication of his 
 deliro to be introduced into the family, nor could 
 we rcfufc his rcqucft. The painter was therefore 
 fet to work, and as he wrought with aliiduity and 
 
 expedition,
 
 96 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD.^' 
 
 expedition, inlefsthan four days die whole was com- 
 pleated. The piece was large, and it mud be 
 owned he did not fpare his colours ; for which my 
 wife gave him grcat encomiums. We were all per- 
 fectly fatisfied with his performance; but i\n un- 
 fortunate circumftance had not occurred till the pic- 
 ture \vas finifhed, which now /truck us with difniay. 
 It was fo very large that we had no place in the ho u'fe 
 to fix it. How we all came to difregard fo material 
 a point is inconceivable; but certain it is, we had 
 been all greatly remifs. The picture, therefore, 
 inftead of gratifying our vanity, as we hoped, 
 leaned in a moft mortifying- manner againft the 
 kitchen wall, where the canvas was ftretched and 
 painted, much too large to be got through any of 
 the doors, and the jeft of all cur neighbours. Oi:e 
 compared it to Robinfon Crufoe's long-boat, too 
 large to be removed ; another thought i; more re- 
 fembled a reel in a bottle ; fome wondered how it 
 could be got out, but ftill more were amazed how 
 it ever got in. 
 
 But though it excited the ridicule of fome, it ef 
 fechi;lly railed more malicious fuggeftions in many. 
 The fquire's portrait being found united with ours, 
 was an hour too great to efcape envj. Scandalous 
 whrfpers began to circulate at our expence, and our 
 tranquillity was continually difturbed by perfons 
 who ca;:.ie as friends to tell us \vhat was faid of us 
 by enemies. Thefe 'reports we always refented 
 with becoming fpirit ; but fcandal ever improves by 
 oppou'tion. 
 
 We once again, therefore, entered into confuta- 
 tion upon cbv* ating the malice of our enemies, and 
 at lafl came to a refoluHbn which had too much 
 cunning to give me entire fatisfacticn. It was this: 
 as the principal object: was to difcover the honour 
 of Mr. Ti.onihill's audrefles, my wife undertook 
 to found him, by pretending toafk his advice i*i the 
 choice of a hulbar.d' for her eldeft daughter. If 
 this was net found fufficient to induce him to a de- 
 
 daration,
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 97 
 
 claration, it was then refolved to terrify him with u 
 rival. To this laft ftep, however, I would by no 
 means give my conlent, till Olivia gave me the molt 
 folemn allurances that me would marry the perfoa 
 provided to rival him upon the occalion, if lie did 
 not prevent it by taking her himfelf. Such was the 
 fcheme laid, which though I did ftrenuoufly oppofe, 
 I did not entirely approve. 
 
 The next time, therefore, that Mr. Thornhill 
 came to fee us, my girls took care to be out of the 
 way, in order tp give their mama an opportunity of 
 putting her fcheme in execution ; but they only 
 retired to the next room, from whence they could 
 over-hear .the whole converfation : my wife art- 
 fully introduced it by observing, that one of the 
 Mifs Flamborough's was like to have a very , good 
 match of it in Mr. Spanker. To this the Iquire 
 affenting, (lie proceeded to remark, that they who 
 had warm fortunes were always fure of getting good 
 hufbands : ' But heaven help,' continued fhe, the 
 
 * girls that have none. What fignifies beauty, Mr.' 
 
 * Thornhill ? or what fignifies all the virtue and 
 ' all the qualifications in the world, in this age of 
 felf-intereft ? It is not, what is fhe?' but what 
 has Hie ? is all the cry.' 
 
 ' Madam,' returned he, ' I highly approve the 
 
 * juftice, as well as the novelty of your remarks j 
 
 * and if I were a king, it Hiould be otherwife. It 
 ' mould then, indeed, be fine times with the girls 
 
 * without fortunes : or two young ladies mould be 
 the firft for whom I would provide.' 
 
 * Ah! Sir!' returned my wife, ' yon are pleafed 
 
 * to bejfacctious : but I w iiTi I were a queen, and then 
 ' I know when my eldeft daughter mould look for an 
 
 * hufband. But now that you have put it into my 
 ' head, ferioufly Mr. Thornhill, can't you recom- 
 
 ' mend me a proper hulband for her? me is now 
 ' nineteen old, well grown, and well educated ; 
 ' and in my humble opinion does not want for 
 ' parts.' 
 VOL. I. I Madam,'
 
 98 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 < Madam, replied he, ' if I were to choofe, I 
 would find out a rerfon poffefled of every accom- 
 ' plifhnient that can make an angel happy. One 
 
 < with prudence, fortune, tafte, and fmcerity ; fuch 
 'Madam, would be, in my opinion, the proper 
 
 ' hufband.' ' Aye, Sir/ laid fhe, ' but do you 
 ' kno%v of any fuch perfon? 'No, Madam,' re- 
 turned he, ' it is impoflibletoknow any perfon, that 
 deferves to be her hufband : fhe's tod great a trea- 
 ' fure for one man's pofieffion; flic's a goddefs. 
 Upon my foul I fpeak what I think, me is an an- 
 
 * gel-'' Ah, ' Mr. Thornhill, you only flatter my 
 poor girl: but we have been thinking- of marrying 
 
 < her to one of your tenants, whofe mother is lately 
 dead, and who wants a manager 5 you know whom 
 
 < I mean, Farmer Williams ; a warm man, Mr. 
 ' Thornhill, able to give her good bread ; and who 
 ' has feveral times made her propcfals : (which was 
 actually the cafe.) 'But, Sir,' concluded fhe, 'I 
 ' fhould be glad to have you approbation of our 
 choice' 'How, Madam,' replied he, 'my appro- 
 
 * bation ! My approbation of fuch a choice ! Never. 
 
 * What, facrifice fo much beauty, and fenfe, and 
 goodnefs, to a creature infen/ible of the bleding! 
 ' lixcufe me, I can never approve of fuch a piece of 
 'injuftice! And I have my reafons.' 'Indeed, 
 
 * Sir,' cried Deborah, ' if you have your reafons, 
 that's another aifair; but 1 mould be glad to know 
 thofe reafons.' Excufe me, Madam,' returned 
 he, 'they lie too deep for difcovery; 1 (laying his 
 hand upon his bofom) ' they remain buried, rivetted 
 here.' 
 
 After he was gone, upon general confultation, we 
 could not tell what to make of thefe fine fentiments. 
 Olivia coniidered them as inftances of the moft ex- 
 alted pailion ; but I was not quite fo fanguine : it 
 feemed to me pretty plain, that they had more of 
 love than matrimony in them ; yet whatever they 
 might portend, it was refolved to profecute the 
 iciieme of Farmer Williams, >vho, from my daugh- 
 ter^
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 99 
 
 ter's firft appearance in the country, had paid her 
 his addrefles. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Scarce any 'virtue found to rejijl the po-iuer of long and 
 pleajir.g temptations. 
 
 A S I only ftudied my child's real happinefs, the 
 *"* afliduity of Mr. Williams pleafed me, as he 
 was in eafy circumftances, prudent and fincere. It 
 required but very little encouragement to revive his 
 former paflion ; fo that in an evening or two he and 
 Mr. Thornhill met at our houfe, and furveyd each 
 other for fome time with looks of anger; hut Wil- 
 liams owed his landlord no rent, and little regarded 
 his indignation. Olivia, on her (ide, acted the coquet 
 to perfection ; if that might be cajled acting, which 
 was the real character, pretended to laviih all her 
 tendernefs on h r new lover. Mr. Thornhill ap- 
 peared quite dejefted at this preference, and with a 
 penlive air took leave ; though I own it puzzled me 
 to find him in fo much pain as he appeared to be, 
 when he had it in his power fo eaiily to remove the 
 caufe, by declaring an honourable paffion. But 
 whatever uneafinefs he feemed to endure, it could 
 eafily be perceived that Olivia's anguifh w : us ftiil 
 greater. After any of thefe interviews between her 
 lovers, of which there were feveral, flic ufually re- 
 tired to folitude, and there indulged her grief. It 
 was in fuch a fituation I found her one evening, after 
 fhe had been for fome time fupporting a fictitious 
 gaiety. ' You now fee, my child,' faid I, * that 
 your confidence in Mr. Thornhill's palfion was all 
 a dream ; lie permits the rivalry of another, every 
 way his inferior, though he knows it lies in his 
 power to fecure you to himfelf by a candid decla- 
 ration.' 'Yes, papa,' returned fhe, but he has 
 his reafons for this delay ; I know he has. The 
 fincerity of his looks and words convince me of 
 his real efteem. A fhort time, I hope, will dif- 
 cover the generofity of his fentiments, and convince 
 I a yu
 
 too VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 you that my opinion of him has been more juft than 
 yours.' ' Olivia, my darling,' returned I, ' every 
 fcheme that has been hitherto purftied to compel 
 him to a declaration, has been propofed and plan- 
 ned by yonrfelf, nor can you in the leaft fay that I 
 have conftrained you. But you nmft not fuppofe, 
 my dear, that I will ever be inftrumental in flitter- 
 ing his honeft rival to be the dupe of your ill- 
 placed pafTion. Whatever time you require to bring 
 yoiir fancied admirer to an explanation mall be 
 granted : but at the expiration of that term, if he 
 is ftill regardlefs, I muft abfolutely infift that honeft 
 Mr. Williams mail be rewarded for his fidelity. 
 The character which I have hitherto Supported in 
 life demands this from me, and my tendernefs as a 
 parent mall never influence my integrity as a man. 
 Name then your day, let it be as diftantas you think 
 proper, and in the mean time take care to let Mr. 
 Thornhill know the exact time on which I defign 
 delivering you up to another. If he really loves 
 you, his own good fenfe will readily fuirgeft that 
 there is but one method alone to prevent his lofing 
 you for ever.' This propofal, which me could 
 not avoid considering as perfectly juft, was readily 
 agreed to. She again renewed her mcft pofitive pro- 
 mrfe of marrying Mr. Williams, in cafe of the other's 
 infenfibility ; and at the next opportunity, in Mr. 
 Thornhill's prefence, that day month was fixed upon 
 for her nuptials with his rival. 
 
 Such vigorous proceedings feemed to redouble 
 Mr. Thornhill's anxiety : but what Olivia really 
 felt gave me fome uneafmefs. In this ftruggle be- 
 tween prudence and paflion, her vivacity quite for- 
 fook her, and every opportunity of folitude was 
 fought, and fpent in tears. One week pafTed away ; 
 bdMlr^Thornhill made no efforts to reftrain her 
 nuptials. The lucceeding week he was ftill alfiduous, 
 but not more open. On the third he difcontinued 
 his vilits entirely ; and inftead of my daughter tefti- 
 ying an impatience, as I expected, me feemed to 
 
 retain,
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. ior 
 
 retain a penfive tranquillity, which I looked upon 
 as a refignation. For my own part, I was now fin- 
 cerely pleafed with thinking that my child was to 
 be fecured in a continuance of competence and 
 peace, and frequently applauded her refolution, in 
 preferring happinefs to oftentation. 
 
 It was within about four daysof her intended nup- 
 tials, that my little family at night were gathered 
 round a charming fire, telling uories of paft, and 
 laying fchemes for the future. Bufied in forming a 
 thoufand projects, and laughing at whatever folly 
 came uppermoft.' * Well, Mofes,' cried I, ' we 
 fhall foon, my boy, have a wedding in the family ; 
 what is your opinion of matters and things in ge- 
 neral ?' ' My opinion, father, is, that all things 
 go on very well ; and I was juft now thinking, 
 that when fitter Livy is married to Farmer Wil- 
 liams, we fliall then have the loan of his cyder- 
 prefsand brewing tubs for nothing.' * That we 
 (hall, Mofes,' cried- I, * and he willfmgus Death 
 and the Lady to raifeour fpirits into the bargain,* 
 ' He has taught that fong to our Dick,' cried 
 Vlofes; ' and I think he goes through it very pret- 
 tily.' ' Does he fo,' cried I, ' then let us have 
 it : where is little Dick ? let him up with it boldly.' 
 * My brother Dick,' cried Bill, my youngeft, ' is 
 juft gone out with fitter Livy ; but Mr. Williams 
 has taught me two fongs, and I'll fing them for 
 you, papa. Which fong do you chufe The Dying 
 Swain, ; or the Elegy on the Death of a Mad 
 Dog?' ' The elegy, child, by all means,' faid I; 
 I never heard that yet and Deborah, my life, 
 grief, you know, is dry ; let us have a bottle of 
 the belt goofcberry wine, to keep up our fpirits. 
 I have wept fo much at all forts of elegies of late, 
 that, without an enlivening glafs, I am lure this 
 will overcome me. And Sophy, love, take-youf 
 guitar, and thrum in with the boy a little.' 
 
 I 3 ' *N
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 AN ILZGY ON THE DEATH OP A MAD-DO 
 
 GOOD people all of every fort, 
 
 Give ear u:ito my fong ; 
 And if you find it wondrous fhort, 
 
 It cannot hold you long. 
 In Islington there was a man, 
 
 Of whom the world might fay, 
 Thit (till a godly race he ran, 
 
 Whene'er he went to pray. 
 A kind and gentle heart he had, 
 
 To comfort friends and foes ; 
 The naked every day he clad, 
 
 When he put on his clothes. 
 And in that town a dog was found, 
 
 As many dogs there be, 
 Both mungrel, puppy, whelp and hound, 
 
 And cu;s of low degree. 
 This dog and man at firft vere friends ; 
 
 But when a pique began, 
 The dog, to gain nis private ends, 
 
 Went mad and bit the man. 
 Around from all the neighbouring ftreets, 
 
 The wand'rtng neighbours ran ; 
 ?,. And fwore the dog had loll his wits, 
 
 ,;>rn To bite fo good a man. 
 
 The wound it feem'd both fore and fad, 
 wvC. To every Chriftian eye ; 
 Hi And while they fwore the dog was mad, 
 
 They fwore the man would die. 
 ";i[ But foon a wonder came to light, 
 
 That fhew'd the rogues they lied j 
 The man :ccover'd or the bite, 
 ..[ '], The dog it was that died. 
 
 I 
 
 ' A very good boy, Bill, upon my word; and an 
 ' elegy that may truly be called tragical. Come, 
 children, here's Bill's health, and may he one day 
 '.be a bifiiop!' 
 
 With
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 103 
 
 ' With all my heart,' cried my wife ; ' and if he 
 but preaches as well as he fings, I make no doubt 
 of him. The mod of his family by the mother's 
 fide could fing a good fong ; it was a common 
 faying in our country, that the family of the 
 Blenkinfops could never look ftraight before them, 
 nor Hugginfon sblow out a candle ; but that there 
 were none of the Grograms but could (ing a fong, 
 or of the Marjorams but could tell a ttory.' 
 However that be,' cried I, * the moft vulgar 
 ballad of all generally pleafes me better than the 
 fine modern odes, and tilings that petrify in a 
 fingle ftanza ; productions that we at once detett 
 and praife. Put theglafs to your brother, Moles. 
 The great fault of thefe illegiafts is, that they are 
 in defpair for griefs that give the fenfible part of 
 mankind very little pain. A lady lofes her muff", 
 her fan, or her lap-dog, and fo the lilly poet runs 
 home to verfify the di latter.' 
 ' That may be the mode,' cried Mofes, * in fub. 
 limer compofition : but the Ranelagh fongs that 
 come down to us are peifectly familiar, and all 
 caft in the fame mould : Collin meets Dolly, and 
 they had a dialogue together ; he gives her a fair, 
 ing to put in her hair, and flie prefents him with a 
 nofegay; and then they go together to church, 
 where they give good advice to nymphs and iwains 
 to get married as faft as they can.' 
 ' And very good advice too,' cried I ; * and I ara 
 told there is not a place in the world where advice 
 can be given with fo much propriety as there : 
 for, as it perfuades us to marry, it alfo furni flies 
 us with a wife ; and furely that muft be an excel- 
 lent market, my boy, where we are told what we 
 want, and fupplied with it when wanting.' 
 ' Yes, Sir,' returned Mofes, ' and I know but of 
 two fuch markets for wives in Europe, Ranelagh 
 in Kngland, and Fontarabia in Spain. The Spa 
 ni(h market is open once a year, but our Englifli 
 wives are faleable every night.' 
 
 'You
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIEUX 105 
 
 over! Go, my children, go and be miferable 
 and infamous ; for my heart is broken within 
 me!' ' Father,' cried my fon, ' is this your for- 
 titude?' ' Fortitude, child ! Yes, he mall fee I 
 have fortitude! Bring me my piflols. I'll purfue 
 the traitor. While he is on earth, I'll purfue 
 him. Old as I am, he fhall find I can fling him 
 yet. The villain, perfidious villain!' I had by 
 this time reached down my piftols, when my poor 
 wife, whofe paffions were not fo ftrong as mine, 
 caught me in her amis. * My deareft, dearelt 
 hufband,' cried me, * the bible is the only weapon 
 that is fit for your old hands now. Opea that, 
 my love, and read our anguifli into patience, for 
 fhe has vilely deceived us.' ' Indeed, Sir,' re- 
 fumed my fon, after afliort paufe, 'your rage is too 
 violent and unbecoming. You mould be my mo- 
 ther's comforter, and you increafe her pain. It ill 
 fuited you and your reverend character thus to 
 curfe your greateft enemy ; you fnould not have 
 curfed him, villain as he is.' 'I did not curfe 
 him, child, did I ?' ' Indeed, Sir, you did; you 
 curfed him twice.' ' Then may Heaven forgive 
 me and him if I did. And now, my fon, I fee it 
 was more than human benevolence that firft taught 
 us to blefs our enemies : Bled be his holy name 
 for all the good he hath given, and for all that he 
 hath taken away. But it is not, it is not a fmall 
 diftrefs that can wring tears from thefe old eyes, 
 that have not wept for fb many years. My child, 
 to undo my darling! May confulion fe^ze! Hea- 
 ven forgive me : What am I about to fay ? You 
 may remember, my love, how good fhe was, 
 and how charming ; till this vile moment, all 
 her care was to make us happy. Had fhe but; 
 died ! But fhe is gone, the honour of our fa- 
 mily contaminated, and I mull look out for 
 happinefs in other worlds than here. But my child, 
 you faw them go oft'; perhaps he forced her away. 
 If he forced her, fhe may yet be innocent.' ' Ah, 
 
 no.
 
 io6 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 no, Sir,' cried the child ; 'he only kifled her, and 
 called her his angel, and Hie wept very much, and 
 leaned upon his arm, and they drove off very faft . ' 
 She's an ungrateful creature,' cried my wife, who 
 could fcarce fpeak for weeping, * to ufe us thus, (he 
 never had the leart conftraint put upon her affec- 
 tions. The vile (trumpet has bafely deferted her 
 parents without any provocation, thus to bring 
 your grey hairs to the grave, and I muft fhortly 
 follow.' 
 
 In this manner that night, the firft of our real 
 misfortunes, was fpent in the bitternefs of com- 
 plaint, and ill-fupported fallies of enthufiafm. I 
 determined, however, to find out our betrayer, 
 wherever he was, and reproach his bafenefs. The 
 next morning we miffed our wretched child at 
 breakfaft, where (he ufed to give life and chearful- 
 nefs to us all. My wife, as before, attempted to 
 eafe her heart by reproaches. ' Never,' cried flie, 
 ' fhall that vilefl (tain of our family again darken 
 
 * thefe harmlefs doors. I will never call her daugh- 
 
 * ter more. No, let the (trumpet live with her 
 ' vile feducer : (lie may bring us to fhame, but Ihe 
 ' dial! never more deceive us.' 
 
 * Wife,' faid 1, ' do not talk thus hardly : my 
 ' deteftation of her guilt is as great as yours ; but 
 ' ever fhall this houfe and this heart be open.to a 
 
 * poor returning icpentant (inner. The fooner 
 
 * me returns from her tranfgreffion, the uiere 
 ' welcome (hall (he be to me. For the firft time 
 
 * the very beft may err ; art may perfuade, anil 
 ' novelty fpread out its charm. The firft fault is 
 V the child of fimplicity ; but every other the off- 
 
 * fpring of guilt. Yes, the wretched creature (hall 
 
 * be wdcome to this heart and this houfe, though 
 ' ftained with ten thoufand vices. I will again 
 
 * hearlcen to the mufic of her voice, again will I 
 ' hang fondly on her bof'om, if I find but repent- 
 ' ance there. My fon, bring hither my Bible and 
 ' my ftalf : I will purfue her, wherever (he is : and 
 
 ' though
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 107 
 
 ' though I cannot fave her from fhame, I may pre- 
 ' vent the continuance of her iniquity. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 The purfuit of a father to reclaim a loft child / 
 virtue. 
 
 nrHOUGH the child could not defcribe the gen- 
 * tleman's perfon who handed his lifter into the 
 poft-chaife, yet my fufpicions fell entirely upon our 
 young landlord, whofe charadter for fuch intrigues 
 was but too well known. I therefore diredled my 
 fleps towards Thornhill Caftle, refolving to upbraid 
 him, and, ifpollible, to bring back my daughter : 
 but before I had reached his feat, I was met by one 
 of my parifliioners, who faid he faw a young lady, re - 
 fembling my daughter, in a poft-chaife with a gen- 
 tleman, whom by the defcription, I could only guefs 
 to be Mr. Burchell, and that they drove very fart. 
 This information, however, did by no means fatisfy 
 me ; therefore I went to the young fquirc's, and 
 though it was yet early, infifted upon feeing him im- 
 mediately ; he foon appeared with the moft open 
 familiar air, and feemed perfectly amazed at my 
 daughter's elopement, protefting upon his honour 
 that he was quite a ftranger to it. I now therefore 
 condemned my former fufpicions, and could turn 
 them only on Mr. Burchell, who I recollected had 
 of late feveral private conferences with her; but 
 the appearance of another witnefs left me no room 
 to doubt of his villainy, who averred that he and 
 my daughter were actually gone towards the Wells, 
 about thirty miles off, where there was a great deal 
 of company. Being driven to that ftate of mind 
 .in which we are more ready to aft precipitately than 
 to reafon right, I never debated with myfelf, whe- 
 ther thefe accounts might not have been given by 
 perfons purpofely placed in my way, to miflead me, 
 but refolved to purfue my daughter and her fancied 
 deluder thither. 1 walked along with earneftnefs, 
 and enquired of feveral by the way : but received 
 
 no
 
 >o VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 no accounts, till entering the town I was met by a 
 perlon on horfeback, whom I remembered to have 
 feen at the liquire's, and he affiired me, that if I 
 followed them to the races, which were but thirty 
 miles farther^ I might depend upon overtaking 
 them ; for he had feen them dance there the night 
 before, and the whole afFembly feemed charmed with 
 my daughter's performance. Early the next day I 
 walked forward to the races, and about four in the 
 afternoon I came upon the courfe. The company 
 made a very brilliant appearance, all earneltly em- 
 ployed in one purfuit, that of pleafure ; how dif- 
 ferent from mine, that of reclaiming a loft child to 
 virtue ! I thought I perceived Mr. Burchell at fotue 
 diftance from me; but as if he dreaded an inter- 
 view, upon my approaching him, he mixed among 
 a crowd, and I faw him no more. 
 
 I now reflected that it would be to no purpofe to 
 continue the purfuit farther, and refolved to return 
 home to an innocent family, who wanted my aflifl- 
 ance. But the agitations of my mind, and the fa- 
 tigues I had undergone, threw me into a fever, the 
 fymptoms of which I perceived before I came off the 
 courfe. This was another unexpected? ftroke, as I 
 was more than feventy miles diffont from home : 
 however, I retired to a little alehoufe, by the road- 
 iide, and in this place, the ufual retreat of indigence 
 and frugality, 1. laid down patiently to wait the 
 jlFue of my diforder. I languiflied here for near three 
 weeks ; but at lad my conu'rtution prevailed, though 
 I was unprovided with money to defray the expences 
 of the entertainment. It is poffible the anxiety 
 from this laltcircumltance alone might have brought 
 on a relapfe, had I not been fupphed by a traveller 
 who (topped to take a curfory refrefhment. This 
 perfon was no other than a philanthropise book- 
 feller in St. Paul's Church-yard, who has written 
 fo many little books for children ; he called himfelf 
 their friend; but he was the friend of all mankind. 
 He was no fooner alighted, but he was in hafle to 
 
 be
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 109 
 
 be gone ; for lie was ever on bufmefs of the utmoft 
 importance, and was at that time actually compiling 
 materials for the hiftory of one Mr. Thomas Trip. 
 I immediately recollected this good-natured man's 
 red pimpled face ; for he had publifhed for me 
 againfi: the Deuterogamifts of the age, and from him 
 1 borrowed a.few pieces, to be paid at my return. 
 Leaving the inn, therefore, as I was yet but weak, 
 I refolved to return home by eafy journies of ten 
 miles a day. 
 
 My health and ufual tranquillity were almoft re- 
 flored, and I now condemned that pride which had 
 made me refractory to the hand of correction. Man 
 little knows what calamities are beyond his patience 
 to bear till he tries them : as in afcending the height* 
 of ambition, which look bright from below, every 
 ftep we arife (hews us fome new and gloomy profpect 
 of hidden difappointment ; fo in our defcent from 
 the fummit of pleafure, though the vale of mifery 
 below may appear at firft dark and gloomy, yet the 
 bufy mind, (till attentive to its own amufement, 
 finds, as we defcend, fomethingto flatter and plcafe. 
 Still as we approach, the darkefl objects appear to 
 brighten, and the mental eye becomes adapted to its 
 gloomy fituation. 
 
 I now proceeded fonvard, and had walked about 
 two hours, when I perceived what appeared at a dif- 
 tance like a waggon, which I was relolved to over- 
 take ; but when I came up with it, found it to be a 
 drolling company's cart, that was carrying their 
 Icenes and other theatrical furniture to the next vil- 
 hige, where they were to exhibit. , 
 
 The cart was attended only by the perfon who 
 drove it, and one of the company ; as the reft of the 
 players were to follow the enfumg day. ' Good 
 * company upon the road,' fays the proverb, ' is the 
 ' fliorteft cut.' I therefore entered into converfa- 
 tion with the poor player; and as I once had fomc 
 theatrical powers myfelf, I defcanted on fuch topics 
 with my ufual freedom; but as I was but little 
 
 VOL. 1. K acquainted
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. in 
 
 I therefore took flicker, as faft as poflible, in the 
 firft ale-houfe that oflered ; and being (hewn into 
 the common room, was accofted by a very v.ell-dreft 
 gentleman, who demanded, whether I was the rral 
 chaplain of the company, or whether it was only to 
 be my mafquerade character in the play. Upon 
 informing him of the truth, and that I did not 
 belong in any fort to the company, he was conde- 
 fcending enough to defire me and the player to par- 
 take in a bowl of punch, over which he difcuflcd. 
 modern politics with great earneflnefs and interest. 
 1 fet him down in my own mind for nothing lefs 
 than a parliament-man at lead ; but was almoft con- 
 firmed in my conjectures, when upon afking what 
 there was in the lioufe for fupper, he iniifted that 
 the player and I fliould fup with him at his houfe; 
 with which requeft, after fome entreaties, we were 
 prevailed on to comply. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 The defer! pt ion of a perfon difcontented 'with the prefent 
 
 government, and apprebenfwe of the 
 
 lofs of our liberties. 
 
 HP HE houfe where we were to be entertained, ly- 
 L ing at a fmall diflance from the village, our in- 
 viter obferved, that as the coach was not ready, he 
 would conduct us on foot, and we foon arrived at 
 one of the moft magnificent manfions I had feen in 
 that part of the country. The apartment into which 
 we were fliewn, was perfectly elegant and modern ; 
 he went to give orders for fupper, while the player, 
 with a wink, obferved, that we were perfectly in 
 luck. Our entertainer fuon returned, an elegant 
 fupper was brought in, two or three ladies in an 
 cafy dimabille were introduced, and the converla- 
 tion began with fomc fprightlinefs. Politics, how- 
 ever, was the fubject on which our entertainer 
 chiefly expatiated ; for he aflcrted, that liberty v,;is 
 iit once his boaft and his terror. After the cloth 
 K a was
 
 in VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 was removed, he afked me if I had feen the laft 
 Monitor; to which replying in the negative, 'What, 
 not the Auditor, I fuppole?' cried he. Neither, 
 Sir,' returned I. * That's ftrange, very (trange,* 
 eplied my entertainer. * Now, I read all the po- 
 litics that come out. The Daily, the Public, the 
 Ledger, the Chronicle, the London Evening, the 
 Whitehall Evening, the feventeen Magazines, and 
 the two Reviews; and though they hate each 
 other, I love them all. Liberty, Sir, liberty is 
 the Briton's boaft; and by all my coal-mines m 
 Cornwall, I reverence it's guardians.' ' Then it' 
 is to be hoped,' cried I, * you reverence the king.* 
 Yes,' returned my entertainer, ' when he does 
 what we would have him ; but if he goes on as lie 
 has done of late, I'll never trouble myfelfmore 
 with his matters. I fay nothing. I think only ; I 
 could have dire6ted fome things better. I don't 
 think there has been a fufficient number of advi- 
 fers ; he fhould advife with every perfon willing 
 to give him advice, and then we fhould have things 
 done in another gueft manner.' 
 
 * I wifli,' cried I, ' that fuch unintruding advi- 
 fers were fixed in the pillory. It Ihould be the 
 duty of honeft men to affift the weaker fide of our 
 Conftitution, that (acred power that has for fome 
 years been every day declining, and lofing its due 
 (hare of influence in the ftate. But thefe ignorants 
 (till continue the cry of liberty, and if they have 
 any weight, bafely throw it into the fubfiding 
 fcale.' 
 
 * How,' cried one of the ladies, * do I live to fee 
 one fo ba(e, fo fordid, as to be an enemy to liberty, 
 and a defender of tyrants? Liberty, that facred 
 gift of Heaven, that glorious privilege of Britons !' 
 
 ' Can it be pofiible, cried our entertainer, c that 
 there mould be any found at prefect, advocates 
 for flavery ? Any who are for meanly giving up 
 the privileges of Britons ? Can any, 'Sir, be Ib 
 abjc-ft?' 
 
 < No,
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIEU). nj 
 
 ' No, Sir,' replied I, ' 1 am for liberty, that at- 
 ' tribute of gods ! Glorious liberty ! that theme of 
 
 * modern declamation. I would have all men kings. 
 ' I would be a king myfelf. We have all naturally 
 ' an equal ripht to the throne; we are all originally 
 
 * equal. This is my opinion, and was once the opi- 
 ' nion of a fet of honeft men who were called Le- 
 ' vellers. They tried to erecl themfelves into a 
 
 * community; where all (h.;iild be equally free. But, 
 ' alas! it would never anfwer: fortliere were fome 
 ' among them ftronger, and fome more cunning 
 ' than others, and thefe became mafttrs of the reft; 
 
 * for as lure as your groom rides your horfes, be- 
 
 * caufe he is a cunninger animal than they, fo furely 
 ' will the animal that is cunninger or ftrongei than 
 
 * he, fit upon his moulders tn turn. Since then it 
 is entailed upon humanity to fubmit, and fome are 
 < born to command, and others to obey, the queflioa 
 
 * is, as there muft be tyrants, whether it is better to 
 
 * have them in the fame houfe with us, or in the 
 
 * fame village, or ftill farther off in the metropolis. 
 ' Now, Sir, for my own part, as I naturally hate the 
 ' face of a tyrant, the farther off he is removed from 
 
 * me, the better plcafed am I. The generality of 
 mankind alfo are of my way of thinking, and have 
 unaninvjufly crea'ed one king, whofe election at 
 < once diminifhes the number of tyrants, and puts 
 ' tyranny at the gieateft diftance from the greateil 
 
 * number of people. Now the great, who were ty- 
 
 * rants themfelves before the election of one tyrant, 
 are naturally averfe to a power raifed over them, 
 
 * and whofe weight muft ever lean heavieft on the 
 fubordinate orders. It is the intereft of the great, 
 
 * therefore, to diminifh kingly power as much a.s 
 ' poflible; becaufe, whatever they take from that, 
 is naturally reftored to themfelves: and all they 
 
 * have to do in the (late, is to undermine the fingle 
 
 * tyrant, by which they refume their primaeval au- 
 ' thority. Now the ftate may be fo circumfranced, 
 
 * or it's laws may be fo difpofed, or it's men of opti- 
 
 K 3 knee
 
 , H VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 lence fo minded, as all to confpire in carrying on 
 this bulincfs of undermining monarchy. For, m 
 the firft place, if the circumftances of our ftate be 
 fuch, as to favour the accumulation of wealth, 
 and make the opulent ftill more rich, this will en- 
 creafe their ambition. An accumulation of wealth, 
 however, muft neceflarily be the confequence, 
 when, as at prefent, more riches flow in from ex- 
 ternal commerce than arife from internal in- 
 duflry , for external commerce can only be ma- 
 nao-cd to an advantage by the rich, and they have 
 alio at the fame time all the emoluments anfmg 
 * from internal induftry ; fo that the rich, with us, 
 have two fources of wealth, whereas the poor have 
 but one. For this reafon, wealth, in, all com- 
 mercial ftates, is found to accumulate ; and all 
 fuch have hitherto in -time become ariftocratical. 
 Again, the very laws alfo of this country may con- 
 tribute to the accumulation of wealth ; as when 
 by their means the natural ties that bind the rich 
 and poor together are broken ; and it is ordained, 
 that the rich mall only marry with the rich ; o 
 when the learned are held unqualified to lerve 
 their country as counfellors, merely from a def 
 of opulence ; and wealth is thus made the object 
 of a wife man's ambition : by thefe means, I lay, 
 and fuch means as thefe, riches will accumulate. 
 Now the potfefibr of accumulated wealth, when 
 furniflied with the neceflaries and pleafures of life. 
 has no other method to employ the fuperfluity ot 
 his fortune but in purchafmg power ; that is, dif- 
 ferently fpeaking, in making dependants, by pur- 
 chafing the liberty of the needy or the venal, ot 
 ' men who are willing to bear the mortification o 
 
 contiguous tyranny for bread. Thus each very 
 opulent man generally gathers round him a circle 
 of the poorerf of the people; and the polity 
 ' abounding in accumulated wealth may be <om- 
 
 pared to a Cartefian fyfle-.r,, each orb by a vertex 
 of it's own. Thole, however, who are fritting 
 
 ' te
 
 VICAR OF WAKEF1EI.O. 115 
 
 ' to move in a great man's vortex, are only fucJi as 
 
 * mu ft bs flaves, the rabble of mankind, whofe 
 
 * fouls and whofe education are adapted to fervitude, 
 
 * and who know nothing of liberty except the name. 
 
 * But there muft-flil! be a hrge number of the peo- 
 pie without the fphere of die opulent man's in- 
 
 * fluence, namely, that order of men which fubfifts 
 
 * between the very rich and the very rabble ; thofe 
 ' men who are poiTeft of too large fortunes tofubmit 
 ' to the neighbouring man in power, and yet are 
 4 too poor to fct up for tyranny themfeivcs. In this 
 middle order or mankind are generally to be 
 ' found all the arts, wifdom, and virtues of fociety. 
 
 * This order alone is known to be the true preserver 
 
 * of freedom, and may be called the people. Now 
 ' it may happen, that this middle order of mankind 
 
 * may lofe all its influence in a ftate, and it's voice 
 
 * be in a manner drowned in that of the rabble : for 
 ' if the fortune fufficient for qualifying a perfon at 
 prefent to give his voice in ftate affairs, be tea 
 
 * times lefs than was judged fufficient upon forming 
 ' the conftitution ; it is evident, that great num- 
 
 * bers of the rabble will thus be introduced into the 
 ' political fyftem, and they, ever moving in the 
 ' vortex of the great, will follow where greutnefs 
 ' ftiall direct. In fuch a ftate, therefore, all that the 
 ' mkWle order lias left, is to preferve the prei 
 
 1 tive and privileges of the one principal governor 
 1 with the moft facred circumfpedion. For he di- 
 ' vides the power of the rich, and calls oft" the p 
 ' from falling with ten-fold weight on the midoli 
 1 order placed beneath them. The mid*dle order 
 1 may be compared to a town, of which the opulent 
 1 are forming the fiege, and which the governor 
 1 from without is battening the relief. While U* 
 ' bvliegers are in dread of an enemy over them, it is 
 1 but natural to offer the townfr.ien the moft i'y 
 1 cms UTim; to flatter them with founds, and aniufe 
 1 them with privileges; but if they once defeat the 
 1 governor from behind, tire walls of the town \\ ,i 
 
 * be
 
 u6 VICAR OF WAKEPIELD. 
 be but a fmall defence to it's inhabitants. What 
 they may then expe6t may be feen by turning our 
 eyes to Holland, Genoa, or Venice, where the 
 laws govern the poor, and the rich govern the 
 law. I am then for, and would die for, mo- 
 narchy, facred monarchy ; for if there be any 
 thing facred amongft men, it muft be the anointed 
 SOVEREIGN of his people, and every diminution 
 of his power in war, or in peace, is an infringe, 
 ment upon the real liberties of the fubjedr.. The 
 founds of liberty, patriotifm, and Britons, have 
 already done much; it is to be hoped, that the 
 true fons of freedom will prevent their ever doing 
 more. I have known many of thofe pretended 
 champions for liberty in my time, yet I do not re* 
 member one that was not in his heart and in his 
 family a tyrant.' 
 
 My warmth, I found, had lengthened this ha- 
 rangue beyond the rules of good-breeding: but 
 the impatience of my entertainer, who often drove 
 to interrupt it, could be retrained no longer. What, 
 cried he, ' then I have been all this while entertain- 
 
 * ingajefuit in parfon's cloaths : but by all the 
 ' coal-mines of Cornwall, out he (hall pack, if my 
 
 * name be Wilkinfon.' I now found I had gone too 
 far, and aflced pardon for the warmth with which I 
 had fpoken. ' Pardon;' returned he in a fury : ' I 
 c think fuch principles demand ten thoufand par- 
 
 * dons. What ! give up liberty, property, and as 
 ' the Gazetteer fays, lie down to be fuddled with 
 ' wooden fhoes ! Sir, I infift upon your marching 
 
 * out of this houfe immediately, to prevent worfe 
 confequences. Sir, I infift upon it. I was going 
 to repeat my remonl'trances ; butjuft then we heard 
 a footman's rap at the door, and the two ladies cried 
 out, ' As fureas death, there is our matter and mif- 
 
 * trefs come home.' It Teems, my entertainer was 
 all this while only the butler, who, in his matter's 
 abfence, had a mind to cut a figure, and be for a 
 while the gentleman himfelif; and, to fey the truth, 
 
 he
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 117 
 
 lie talked politics as well as moft country gentlemen 
 do. But nothing could now exceed my confufion, 
 upon feeing the gentleman and his lady enter; rror 
 was their furprize, at finding fuch company and 
 good cheer, lefs than ours. ' Gentlemen, cried the 
 real mafter of the houfe, to me and my companion, 
 
 * my wife and I are your moft humble fervants ; but 
 ' I proteftthisis fo unexpected a favour, that we 
 ' al moft fink ifttder the obligation.' However un- 
 expected our company might be to them, their's, I 
 am fure, was ilill more fo to us, and I was llruck 
 dumb with theapprehenfions of my own abfurdity, 
 when, whom mould I next fee enter the room but 
 my dear Mifs Arabella Wilmot, who was formerly 
 defigned to be married to my fon George; but 
 whofe match was broken off, as already re- 
 lated. As foon as (he faw me, me- fisw to my arms 
 with the utmoft joy. My dear Sir,' cried Ihe, 
 ' to wjiat happy accident is it that we o\ve fo un- 
 ' expected "a vifit ? 1 am fure my uncle and aunt 
 
 * will be in raptures when they find thev have got 
 
 * the good Doctor Primrofe for their gueft.' Upon 
 hearing my name, the old gentleman and lady very 
 politely ftept up, and welcomed me with moft cor* 
 dial hofpitality. Nor could they- forbear fmiling 
 on being informed of the nature of my prefent viiit ; 
 but the unfortunate butler, whom they at f;iif Team- 
 ed difpofcd to turn away, was at my intciceiiion 
 forgiven. 
 
 Mr. Arnold and his lady, to whom the hrufe be- 
 longed now, inlifted upon having the pleafure of 
 my flay for fome days, and as their niece, my 
 charming pupil, whofe miad, in fome meafure, had 
 been formed under my own infJruclions, joined in 
 their entreaties, I complied. That ni^ht I \ ^ 
 fliewn to a magnificent charmber, and the next morn- 
 ing early, Mifs Wilmot delired to walk with me in 
 the garden, which was decorated in the modern 
 manner. After fome time fpent in pointing out the 
 beauties of the place, me enquired, with feeming 
 
 unconcern,
 
 lt g VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 unconcern, when laft I had heard from my fon 
 Geonre. ' Alas! Madam,' cried 'I, ' he has now 
 been near three years ablent, without ever writing 
 to his friends or me. Where he is I know not ; 
 perhaps I (hall never fee him or happinefs more. 
 No, my dear Madam, we fhall never more fee 
 fuch pleating hours as were once fpent by our fire- 
 fide at Wakefield. My little family are now dif- 
 perfing very faft, and poverty haa brought not 
 only want, but infamy upon us.' The good-na- 
 tur'd girl let fall a tear at this account ; but as I 
 faw her poflbfled cf too much fenfibiJity, I forbore 
 a more minute detail of our fufferings. It was, 
 however, fon;e ccnfolati n to me to find that time 
 had made no alteration in her affections, and that 
 fhe had rejected feveral matches _that had been made 
 her fince our leaving her part of the country. She 
 led me round all the extenfive improvements of the 
 place, pointing to the feveral walks and arbours, 
 and at the fame time catching from every object a 
 hint for ibme new queftion relative to my fon. In 
 this manner we fpent the forenoon, till the bell 
 fummoned us to dinner, where we found the mana- 
 ger of the flrollingcompany that I mentioned betorc, 
 who was come to difpofe of tickets for the Fair 
 Penitent, which was to be aftejd that evening ; the 
 part of Horatio by a young gentleman who had ne- 
 ver appeared on any flage. He feemed to be very 
 varm in the praife of the new performer, and aver- 
 red that he never faw any who bid fo fair tor excel- 
 lence A6tir.g, he cbferved, was not learned in a 
 oav : ' But this gentleman,' continued he, ' feems 
 * born to tread the 'ftage. His voice, his figure, 
 ' and attitudes, are all admirable. We Caught him 
 up accidently in our journey down.' This ac- 
 count in fome meafure excited our curicfity, and, at 
 the entreaty of the ladies, I was prevailed upon to 
 accompany' them to the play-houfe, which was no 
 other than a barn. As the company with which I 
 \>cnt was inconteftibly the chief of the place, we 
 
 were
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 119 
 
 were received with the greateft refpecr, and placed 
 in the front feat of the theatre ; where we fat for 
 fonie time with no fmall impatience to fee Horatio 
 nuke his appearance. The new performer advanced 
 at lalt; and let parents think, of my fenfitions by 
 their own, when I found it was my unfortunate fon. 
 He was going to begin ; when, turning his eyes upon 
 the audience, he perceived Mils Wilmot and me, 
 and (tood at once fpeechlcfs and immoveable. 
 
 The aclors behind the fcene, who afcribed this 
 paufe to his natural timidity, attempted to encou- 
 rage him ; but initead of going on, he burft into a 
 flood of tears and retired oft the Itage. I don't 
 know what were my feelings on this occafion ; for 
 they fucceeded with too much rapidity for defcrip- 
 tion : but I was foon awaked from tiiis difagreeable 
 reverie by Mifs Wilmot ; who, pale and with a 
 trembling voice, deured me to conduct her back to 
 her uncle's. When got home, Mr. Arnold, who 
 was as yet a ftranger to our extraordinary behavi- 
 our, bein informed that the nesv performer w.\s my 
 Ion, fent his coach, and an invitation, tor him; and 
 as he perfilted in his refufal to appear again upon 
 the llage, the players put another in his place, and 
 we foon had him with us. Mr. Arnold gave him, 
 the kim'.eft reception, and I received him with mv 
 ufual tranfport : for I couid never counterfeit a falfe 
 refentment. Mifs Wilmot's reception was mixed 
 with Teaming negleft, and yet 1 could perceive (he 
 ackd a ftudied part. The tumult in her mind fecm- 
 ed not yet abated ; fhe faid twenty giddy things that 
 looked like joy, and then laughed loud at her own 
 want of meaning. At intervals fhe would t:'.'-:e <t 
 fly peep at the giafs, as if h-ippy in the confcioulnefs 
 of irreiiilable btauty j and often would alk queftions, 
 
 without giving a:iy manner of attention to the a.u- 
 _ w *-> * 
 
 twers. 
 
 END CF THE FIRST VCLVME.
 
 THE 
 
 VICAR 
 
 O F 
 
 A TALE, 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES, 
 
 BY DR. GOLDSMITH. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Sperate miferi, cavetefelices. 
 
 LONDON? 
 PRINTED FOR C. COOKE, No, 17,
 
 THE 
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 T%f btflory of a philofophif vagabond, purfuing nwelty t 
 but lofing content. 
 
 A FTER we had flipped, Mrs. Arnold politely of- 
 * * fered to lend a couple of her footmen for my 
 fon's baggage, which he at firft feemed to decline ; 
 but upon her fretting the requeft, he was obliged to 
 inform her, that a ftick and a \\allet were all the 
 moveable things upon this earth which he could boaft 
 of. 'Why, aye my fon,' cried I, you left me but 
 
 * poor, and poor I find you are come back ; and yet 
 ' I make no doubt you have feen a great dcaj of the 
 world.' ' Yes, Sir,' replied my fon, but travel- 
 
 * ing after fortune is not the way to fecure her ; and, 
 
 * indeed of late, I have defifted from the purfuit.' 
 4 1 fancy, Sir,' cried Mrs. Arnold, ' that the account 
 'of your adventures would be aiiiiifing: the firft 
 
 * part of them I have often heard from my neice ; 
 ' but could the company prevail for the reft, it would 
 
 * be an additional obligation.' ' Madam,' replied 
 my fon, ' I promife you the pleasure you have in 
 
 * hearing will i jt be half fo great as my vanity in 
 
 * repeating them, and yet in the whole narrative, I 
 
 * ca.i fcarce }-romifeyou one adventure, as my account 
 
 * is rather of what I faw, than what I did. The firft 
 ' misfortune of my life,which you all know,was great ; 
 
 * but though it oiftreflTed, it could not fink me. No per- 
 ' fon ever had a belter knack at hoping than I. The 
 ' lefs kind I found fortune at one time, the more I 
 ' expected from her another; and being now at the 
 ' bottom of her wheel, every new revolution might 
 
 * lift, but could not deprefs me. I proceeded, there- 
 ' fore, towards London in a fine morning, no way 
 
 L a uneafy
 
 H4 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 uneafy about to-morrow, but chearful as the bird* 
 
 * that carolled by the road ; and comforted myfelf 
 
 * with reflecting, that London was the mart where 
 ' abilities of every kind were fure of meeting dif- 
 
 * tin&ion and reward. 
 
 Upon my arrival in town, Sir, my firft care wa 
 ' to deliver your letter of recommendation to our 
 
 * coium, who was himfelf in little better circum- 
 fiances than I. My firft fcheme, you know, Sir, 
 
 * was to be tiflier at an academy, and I aflced his 
 ' advice tin the affair. Our coufin received the 
 
 * propofal with a true Sardonic grin.' " \ye," 
 cried he, " this is indeed a very pretty career that 
 " has been chalked out for you. I have been aa 
 " ufher to a boarding fchool myfelf; and may I 
 *' die by an anodyne necklace, but I had rather be 
 " an under-turnkey in Newgate. I was up early 
 " and late : I was brow-beat by the matter, hated 
 
 ' tVr my ugly face by the miftrefs, worried by the 
 " boys within, and never permitted to frir out to 
 " meet civility abroad. But are you fure you are 
 ;< fit for a fchool ? Let me examine you a little. 
 " Have you been bred an apprentice to the bufi- 
 "nefs?" No. "Then you won't do for a fchool. 
 " Gun you drefs the boy's hair?" No. Then you 
 " won't do for a fchool. Have you had the fm'all- 
 " pox ?" No. " Then you won't do for a fchool. 
 " Can you lie three in a' bed ?" No. Then you 
 ' will never do for a fchool. Have you got a good 
 "ftomach?" Yes. "Then you will by no means . 
 ' d- ibr a fchool. No, Sir, if you are for a genteel 
 " ealy profeflion, bind yourfelf /even years as an ap- 
 " prentice to a cutler's wheel ; but avoid a fchool by 
 " any means. Yet come," continued he, " 1 fee 
 
 * you are a lad of fpirit and fome learning, what da 
 ' you think of commencing autlior, like me? You 
 
 * have read in books, no doubt, of men of genius 
 ' ftarving at the trade ; at prefent I'll (hew you 
 ' frrty very dul! fellows about town, that live by it 
 
 " in ppulence. All honeft jog-trot men, who go oa 
 
 " fmoothJy
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 125 
 
 < c fmoothly and dully, and write hiilory and poli- 
 " ticks, and are praifed: men, Sir, who, had they 
 ' been bred coblers, would all ti^.r lives have only 
 *' inended Ihoes, but never irade ;' MI." 
 
 * Finding that there was no degree of gentility 
 
 * affixed to the character of an ufher, I refolved to 
 ' accept his propofal ; and having the higheft re- 
 
 * fpedt for literature, hailed the antiqna matter of 
 ' Grub-ftreet with reverence. I thought it my glory 
 
 * to ruriue a track which Dryden and Otway trod 
 
 * before me. 1 confidered the goddefs of this re- 
 gion as the parent of excellence : and however an 
 intercourfe with the world might give us good 
 fenfe, the poverty flie granted I fuppofed to be 
 
 * the nurfe of genius ! Big with thefe reflections, I 
 
 * fat down, and finding that the beft things remained 
 
 * to be faid on the wrong fide, I refolved to write 
 
 * a book that (hould be wholly new. I therefore 
 
 * drell up three parodoxes with fome ingenuity. 
 They were falfe, indeed, but they were new. The 
 4 jewels of truth have been fo often imported by 
 
 * others, that nothing was left for me to import but 
 ' fome fplendid things that at a diftance looked every 
 
 * bit as well. Witnefs, ye powers, what fancied im- 
 ' portance fate perched upon my quill while I was 
 ' writing. The whole learned worlds, I made no 
 ' doubt, would rife to oppofe my fyftems; but then 
 
 * I was prepared to oppofe the whole learned world. 
 
 * Like the porcupine, I fate felf-collecled, with a 
 ' quill pointed againft every oppofer.' 
 
 ' Well faid, my boy,' cried 1, 'and what fub- 
 ' jecl: did you treat upon ? I hope you did net pafs 
 ' over the importance of monogamy. But I inter- 
 
 * rupt, go on; yen publiflied your paradoxes; well, 
 
 * and what did the learned world fay to your para- 
 
 * doxes ?' 
 
 * Sir,' replied my fon, ' the learned world faid 
 ' nothiiig of my paradoxes: nothing at all, Sir. 
 ' Every man of them was employed in praifing his 
 
 . .Is and hiinicif, or condemning his cnei. 
 
 L 'and
 
 iz6 .VICAR OF WAKEFIRLD. 
 
 and unfortunately, as I had neither, I fuffered 
 the cruelleft mortification, neglect.' 
 * As I was meditating one day in a coffee-honfe 
 on the fate of my paradoxes, a little man hap- 
 pening to enter the room, placed himfelf in the 
 box before me, and after fome preliminary dif- 
 courfe, finding me to be a fcholar, drew out a bun- 
 dle of propofals, begging me to fubfcribe a new 
 edition he was going fo give the world of Proper - 
 tins, with notes. This "demand neceirarily pro- 
 duced a reply that I had no money ; and that con- 
 ceilion led him to enquire into the nature of my 
 expectations. Finding that my expectations were 
 .hi ft as great as my purfe, ' I Tee,' cried he, 
 you are unacquainted with the town. I'll teach 
 vou a pare of it. Look at thefe propofals ; upon, 
 thefe very propofals I have fubiifted very com- 
 fortably for twelve years. The moment a noble- 
 man returns from his travels, or a Creolian ar- 
 rives from Jamaica, or a dowager from her coun- 
 try-feat, I itrike for a fubfcription. I firft be/iege 
 their hearts with flattery, and then pour in my 
 1 propofals at the breach. If they fubfcribe readily 
 the firfl time, I renew my requeft to beg a dedi- 
 cation fee. If they let me have that, I finite 
 them once more for engraving their coat of arms 
 ' at the top- Thus," continued he, " I live by 
 vanity, and laugh at it. But between ourfelves, 
 * I am now too well known. I mould be <*Jad to 
 borrow your face a bit : a nobleman of distinction 
 has juft returned from Italy; my face is familiar 
 to his porter ; but if you bring this copy of ver- 
 fes, n,v life for it you fucceed, and we divide 
 thefpo : l." 
 
 ' Bi ;-. us, George,' cried I, and is this the 
 employment of poets now. Do men of their ex- 
 alted talents thus ftoop to bcir^a; v. Can they fo 
 far dnVrace their calling, as tcTjaake a vile traf- 
 hc ot praiie ior bread?* 
 
 -
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 127 
 
 ' O no, Sir,' returned he, * a true poet can ne- 
 
 ver be fo bafe ; for wherever there is genius there 
 
 is pride. The creatures I now defcribe are only 
 
 beggars in rhyme. The real poet, as he braves 
 
 even- hardfhip tor fame, fo is he equally a coward 
 
 to contempt ; and none but thofe who are unwor- 
 
 thy protection, condefcend to folicit it. 
 
 Having a inind too proud to floop to fuch in- 
 
 Dignities, and yet a fortune too humble to hazard 
 
 a iecond attempt for fame, I was now obliged to 
 ' take a middle courfe, and write for bread. But 
 
 I was unqualified for a profeffion where mere in- 
 
 duftry alone was to enfure fuccefs. I could not 
 
 fupprefs my lurking paflion for applaufe ; but 
 
 ufually confumed that time in efforts after excel - 
 
 lence which takes up but little room, when it 
 
 mould have been more advantageoufly employed 
 
 in the diffufivc productions of fruitful mediocrity. 
 
 My little piece would therefore come forth in the 
 
 midft of periodical publication*, unnoticed and 
 
 unknown. The public were more importantly 
 
 employed than toobfervethe eafy fimplicity of my 
 
 ftyle, or the luirmony of my periods. Sheet after 
 
 fneet was thrown oft to oblivion. My efthys were 
 
 fcuried among the eflays upon liberty, eaflern tales, 
 
 and cures for the bite of a mad dog ; while Phi- 
 
 lautus, Philalethes, Philelutheros, and Philan- 
 
 thropos, all wrote better, becaufe they wrote fafter 
 
 than I. 
 
 New, therefore, I began to affbciate with non 
 but difappomtcd authors, like myfelf, who praif- 
 
 ed, deplored, and defpifcd each other. The (atif- 
 
 faction we found in every celebrated v. riter's at- 
 
 tempts, was inverfely as their merits. I found 
 * that no genius in another could pleafe me. My 
 unfortunate paradoxes had entirely dried up that 
 fcurce of ccir.ioit. I could neither read nor 
 write with fat'sfaction ; for excellence in another 
 ' vris ni} uvcrlion, writing wai IIIY trade. 
 
 In
 
 i8 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 ' In the midft of thefe gloomy reflexions, as I was 
 one day fitting on a bench in St. James's Park, a 
 young gentleman of diflinction, who had been mv 
 intimate acquaintance at the univerfity, approached 
 me. We laluted each other with fome hefitation - 
 he almoft alhamed of being known to one who 
 made io fhabby an appearance, and I afraid of ;i 
 iSSra; B ^,, my fuf P'cions foon vanilhcd, for 
 Ned rhornhill was at the bottom a very good-na- 
 tured fellow.' 
 
 4u Wh f ,', did y U fa y j Gcor ge- ? ' interrupted I. 
 
 Thornhill ! was not that his name ? It can cer- 
 tainly be no other than my landlord.'' Blefs m ' 
 cried Mrs. Arnold, < is Mr. Thornhill fo near a 
 neighbour of your's ? He has long been a friend 
 m our family, and we expect a vifit from him 
 fhortly. 
 
 ' My friend's firft care,' continued my fon, 'was to 
 alter my appearance by a very fine fu'it of his dm, 
 clothes, and then I was admitted to his table unc., 
 the footing ot half. friend, half underling. Mv 
 bulinefs was to attend him at auctions, to put him 
 in fp.rits when he fet for his pichire, to take the 
 
 :ft-handin his chariot when not filled by another, 
 and toaffift at tattering a kip, as the phrafe wasl 
 when we had a mind for a frolick. Befides this," I 
 had twenty other little employments in the family, 
 1 was to do many fmall things without bidding to 
 carry the corkfcrew ; to (land godfather to all the 
 butler s children ; to (in- when I was bid ; to be 
 
 - n f e T Cr Vi f luimour 5 always to be humble; and, 
 it I could, to be very happy. 
 'In this honourable pod, however, I was not 
 without a rival. A captain of marines, who was 
 formed tor the place by nature, oppofed me in my 
 patron s affeftions. His mother had been laur, 
 i to a man of quality, and thus lie early M , 
 quired a tafle tor pimping and pedigree. As rh s 
 genrleman made it the ftdy of hil life to b- ac- 
 quainted with lords, though he was difmifled from 
 
 ' ieveral
 
 VICAR OP WAKEFTELD. 129 
 
 * feveral tor his ftupidity ; yet he found many of 
 
 * them, v\ho were as dull as himfelf, that permitted 
 
 * his affiduities. As flattery was his trade, he prac- 
 
 * tifed it with the eafieft addrefs imaginable ; but it 
 
 * came aukward and ftiff from me ; and as every 
 
 * day my patron's defire of flattery increafed, fo every 
 
 * hour, being better acquainted with his defects, I 
 
 * became more unwilling to give it. Thus I was once 
 4 more fairly going to give up the field to the captain, 
 
 * when iny friend found occafion for my afll fiance. 
 
 * This was nothing lefs than to fight a duel for him, 
 
 * with a gentleman whofe fitter it was pretended he 
 
 * had tifed ill. I readily complied with his requeft ; 
 ' and though I fee you are difplealed at my conduct, 
 
 * yet as it was a debt indifpcnfably due to friend- 
 
 * fhip, I could not refufe. I undertook the affair, 
 
 * ciifarmed my antagonift, and foon after had the 
 pleafure of finding that lady wns only a woman of 
 
 * the town, and the fellow her bully and a (harper. 
 
 * This piece of fervice was repaid with the warmed 
 
 * gratitude ; but as my friend was to leave town in 
 
 * a few days, he knew no other method of ferving 
 
 * rne, but by recommending me to his uncle Sir 
 
 * Williafn Thornhill, and another nobleman of 
 
 * great diftinclion, who enjoyed a poft under go- 
 ' vernment. When he was gone, my firft care was 
 
 * to carry his recommendatory letter to his uncle, a 
 
 * man whofe character for every virtue was univer- 
 
 * f;J, yet juft. I was received by his fervants with 
 
 * the moll hofpitable fmiles : for the looks of the 
 
 * domefiicks ever tranfmit their matter's benevo- 
 
 * lence. Being (hewn into- a grand apartment, 
 
 * where Sir William foon came to me, I delivered 
 ' ray meffage and letter, which he read, and after 
 
 * paufing loine minutes, " Prr.y, Sir," cried he, 
 
 * inform me what you have done for my kinfman, 
 ' to defcrve this warm recommendation ? But I fup- 
 ' pofe, Sir, I guefs your merits ; you have fought for 
 *' him ; and fo you would expect a reward from me 
 ' for being the inftrument of his vices. I wim, fin- 
 
 cerely
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 13 r 
 
 large ftrides, when I halloed out to know if I was 
 to have any reply. He was by this time got in, 
 and muttered an anfwer, liaJf of which 1 only- 
 heard, the other half was loft in the rattling of his 
 chariot wheels. I flood for fome time with my 
 neck ftretched out, in the pofture of one that v/as 
 liftening to catch the glorious founds, till looking 
 round me, 1 found myfelf alone at his lordfhip s 
 gate. 
 
 * My patience,' continued my fon, * was now 
 quite exhauftcd : flung with the thoufand indig- 
 nities I had met with, I was willing to cad my- 
 felf away, and only wanted the gulph to receive 
 me. I regarded myfelf as one of thofe vile things 
 that nature defigned fliould be thrown by into her 
 lumber-room, thereto perifli in obfcurity. I had 
 ftill, however, half a guinea left, and of that I 
 thought nature herfelf fnould not deprive me; but 
 in order to be fure of this, I was refolved to go 
 inftantly and fpend it while I had it, and then truft 
 to occurrences for the reft. As I was going along 
 with this refolution, it happened that Mr. Crifpe's 
 office feemed invitingly open to give me a welcome 
 reception. In this office Mr. Crifpe kindly offers 
 all his Majelty's fubjects a generous promife of 
 30!. a year, fur which promife all they give in re- 
 turn is their liberty for life, and permiflion to let 
 him tranlport them to America as flaves. I was 
 happy at finding a place where I could lofe my 
 tears in defpenition, and entered this cell, for it had. 
 the appearance of one, with the devotion of a mo- 
 naftic. here I found a number of poor creatures 
 all in circuinftances like myfelf, expecting the ar- 
 rival of Mr. Crif{-e, prefenting a true epitome of 
 Ln^iifh impatience. Each untracted foul at variance 
 with fortune, wreaked her injuries on their own 
 hearts : but Mr. Crifpe at laft came down, which 
 hufhed our murmurs. He deigned to regard me 
 with an air of peculiar approbation, and indeed 
 !:e v as the firll man w ho for a month paft 
 talked to me w iih fmiles. After a few queHions he
 
 13* VICAR OF WAKSFIELD. 
 
 found I was fit for every thing in the world. He 
 paufed awhile upon the propereft means of pro- 
 viding for me, and flapping his forehead, as if lie 
 had found it, ailiired me, that there was at that 
 time an embafly talked of from the fynod of Penn- 
 fylvania to the Chickafaw Indians, and that h 
 would ufe his intereftto get me made fecretary. I 
 knew in my own heart the fellow lied, and yet his 
 promife gave me pleafure, there was fomething fo 
 magnificent in the found. I therefore divided my 
 half guinea, one half of which went to be added 
 to his thirty thoufand pounds, and with the other 
 half I refolved to go to the next tavern, to b 
 there more happy than he. 
 
 ' As I was going out with that refolution, I was 
 met at the door by the captain of a fliip, with 
 whom I had formerly fonie little acquaintance, and 
 he agreed to be my companion over a bowl of 
 punch. As I never chofe to make a fecret of my 
 circumftances, lie allured me that I was upon the 
 very point of ruin, in liftening to the office-keep- 
 er's promifes ; for that he only defigned to fell me 
 to the plantations. '" But," continued he, "I 
 fancy you might by a much fhorter voyage be 
 very eafily put into a genteel way of bread. Take 
 my advice. My (hip lails to-rr.orrow for Ami'ler- 
 dam : what if you go in h;r as a paflenger? 
 The moment you land, all you have to do is to 
 teach the Dutchmen En^lifh, and I'll warrant you 
 you'll get pupils and money enough. I fuppofc 
 you underftand Bnglifli," added he, "by this 
 time, or the deuce is in it." I confidently af- 
 fured him of that ; but exprefled a doubt, whether 
 the Dutch would be willing to learn Englifli. He 
 affirmed with an oath that they were fond of it to 
 diflra&ion; and upon that affirmation I agreed 
 with his propofal, and embarked the next day to 
 teach the Dutch Englifli in Holland. The wind 
 was fair, our voyage fliort ; and after having paid 
 ftiy paiFage with half my moveabies. I found my-. 
 
 Iclf
 
 T 3 4 VICAR OF WAKKFIELD. 
 
 in my propolal, he addre :ed me thus: " YOST 
 fee me, young man," continued he; "I never 
 learned Greek, and I don't find I ever miffed it. 
 
 I have had a doctor's cap and gown without 
 
 Greek ; I have ten thoufand florins a year without 
 
 Greek; I eat heartily without Greek; and in 
 ' fhort," continued he r "as I don't know Greek, 
 ' I do not believe there is any good in it." 
 
 * I was now too far from home to think of re- 
 1 turning; ib I refolved to go forward. I had fame 
 1 knowledge of mufic, with a tolerable voice ; I now 
 1 turned v. hat w;rs once my amufement into prefent 
 ' means of fubfiftence. ' I palled among the harm- 
 ' lefs peafants in Flanders and among fuch of the 
 1 French as were poor enough to be very merry ; 
 ! for I ever found them fprightly in proportion to 
 1 their wants, Whenever I approached a peal'ant's 
 ; houfe towards night-fal)y I played one of my molt 
 
 merry tunes, and that procured me not only a 
 
 lodging;, but fubfifience for the nent day. I onee 
 or twice attempted to play with people of fain-ion, 
 but they always thought my performance odious,. 
 
 and never rewarded me-with a trifle. This wss 
 to me the more extraordinary, as whenever I ufed 
 in better days to play for company,, when plaving 
 was my amuicment, my mu/rc never failed to throw 
 them into raptures, and the ladies efpecially; but 
 as it was now my only means, it was received with 
 contempt : a proof how ready the world is to 
 under rate thofe talents by which a man is Hip*, 
 ported. 
 
 * In this manner I proceeded to Paris, with no 
 defign but j-uft to look about me, and then to go 
 forward. The people of Paris are much fonder of 
 firangers that have money than of thole that have 
 wit. As I could notb'oaft much ot either, I was no 
 great favourite. After walking about the towa 
 four or five days, and feeing the ontfides of the 
 heft houfes, I was preparing to leave this retreat 
 (vf venal hofpitidity j when paffing through one <-,:'.
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 135 
 
 * the principal Itreets, whom (hould I meet but our 
 confin, to whom you firtf recommended me! This 
 ' meeting was very agreeable to me, and I believe 
 
 * not dilpleafmg to him. He enquired into the na- 
 ture of my journey to Paris, and informed me of 
 
 * his own bufinefs there, wkich was to collect pic - 
 
 * tures, medals, intaglios, and antiques of all kinds 
 4 for a gentleman in London, who had juft ftept in-~ 
 
 * to tafte and a large fortune. I was the more fur- 
 ' prized at feeing our coufin pitched upon for this 
 4 office, as he himfelf had often ami red me he knew 
 
 * nothing of the matter. Upon aflcing how he had 
 ' been Uught the art of connofcento fo very fuddenly, 
 4 he aflured me, that nothing was more eafy. The 
 
 * whole lecret confided in a ftrict adherence to two 
 4 rules ; the one always to obferve, that the picture 
 4 might have been better if the painter had taken 
 
 * more pains; and the other, to praifc the work of 
 4 Pietro Perugino. " But," fays he, " as I once 
 4 taught you how to be an author in London, I'll 
 
 * now undertake to inltrud you in the art of pic- 
 4 ture-buying in Paris." 
 
 With this propofal I very readily clofed, as it 
 4 was living; and now all my ambition was to live. 
 
 * I went therefore to his lodgings, improved my 
 4 drefs by his afllftance ; and after Ionic time accom- 
 
 * panied him to auctions of pictures where the En- 
 ' glilh gentry were expected to be purchafers. I 
 
 * was not a little furprieed at his intimacy with peo- 
 
 * pie of thebefl fafliion, who referred themfelves to 
 
 * his judgement upon every picture or medal, as an 
 4 unerring ftandard of tafte. He made very good 
 4 ule of my afliftance upon thefe occafions ; for when 
 
 * afked his opinion, lie would gravely take me afide 
 4 and alk mine, flirug, look wife, return, and aff-.ire 
 
 * the company, that he could give no opinion upon 
 ' an affair of fo much importance. Yet there was 
 
 * fometimes an occafion for a more fupported af- 
 
 * furance. I remember to have ieen him, after giv- 
 
 * lag his opinion that the colouring of a picture was 
 
 M * not
 
 v VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 137 
 
 * I now therefore was left once more upon tlie 
 ' world at large; but then it was a thing I was n fed 
 
 to. However, my (kill in nuific could avail me 
 nothing in a country where every peafant was a 
 better mufician than I ; bat by this time I had ac- 
 quired another talent which anfwered my purpofe 
 as well, and this was a fldllin difputation : In all 
 the foreign universities and convents there are, 
 upon certain days, philofophical thefes maintained 
 againft every adventitious difputant; for which, 
 if the champion oppofes with any dexterity, he 
 can claim a gratuity in money, a dinner, and a bed 
 for one night. In this manner, therefore, I fought 
 my way towards England ; walked along from 
 city to city ; examined mankind more nearly ; and 
 if I may foexprefsit, faw both fides of the picture. 
 My remarks, however, are but few : I found that 
 monarchy was the beft government for the poor to 
 live in, and commonwealths for the rich. I found 
 that riches in general were in every country ano- 
 ther name for freedom ; and that no man is fo 
 fond of liberty himfelf, as not to be defirous of 
 fubjectingthe will of Tome individuals inibciety to 
 his own. 
 
 * Upon my arrival in England I refolved to pay 
 my refpe&s firft to you, and then to enlifl as a 
 volunteer in the firft expedition that was going 
 forward; but on my journey down my refolutions 
 were changed by meeting an old acquaintance, 
 who I found belonged taa company of comedians 
 that were were going to make a fu miner campaign 
 in the country. The company feemed not much 
 to difapprove of me for an atfbciate. They all, 
 however, apprized me of the importance of the 
 talk at which I aimed ; that the public v. as a 
 many-headed monfter, and that only fuch as hsd 
 very good heads could pleafe it : tliat a&ing was 
 not to be learnt in a day ; and that without fome 
 traditional ftmigs, which had been on the ftage, 
 and only oil the ftagc, thcfe hundred years, I could 
 
 M i never,
 
 S VTCAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 never pretend to pleafe. The next difliculty was 
 in fitting me with parts, as alnu-ft every character 
 was in keeping. I was driven for (nine time from 
 one character to another, till at lall Horatio was 
 J upon, which the prefence of the prefent 
 company has happily hindered me from ac'ting.' 
 
 CHAP. ii. 
 
 Tbefoori continuance of friend/Zip amorgfl the vicious, 
 ivbich is coeval only tvifb mutual fat is faflion. 
 
 AT Y fon'o account was too long to be delivered at 
 once; the firft part of it was begun that nH;?, 
 and he was concluding the reft after dinner the next 
 . when the appearance of Mr. Thornhill's equi- 
 page at the door feemed to make a paufe in the gene, 
 ra! Iatisfa6lion. The butler, who was now become 
 luy friend in the family, informed me with a whifper, 
 that the (quire had already made fome overtures to 
 Mifs Wilraot, and that her aunt and uncle feemed 
 highly to approve the match. Upon Mr. Thorn- 
 liifl s entering, he feemed, at feeinsj my fon and me 
 TO nart back; but \ readily imputed 'that to Air- 
 prize, and not difpleafure. However, upon our 
 advancing to /hlute him, he returned our greeting 
 with the moft apparent candour; and after a flicrt 
 time, his prefence feemed only to increafe the ^-ene- 
 ral good-humour. 
 
 Aiiir tea he called me afide to enquire after my 
 daughter; but upon my informing him that my 
 enquiry \v as unfuccefsful, he feemed greatly fur- 
 prized ; adding, that lie had been (ince frequently 
 at my houfe, in order to comfort the reft of the fa- 
 :.ii!y, whom he left perfectly well, lie the i aftcd 
 
 I had Communicated her misfortune to Mi.'s \Vil- 
 
 nior, or my fon- and upon mv . that I hint 
 
 not told them- as yet, h- prtatly approved my pni- 
 
 .r.id preca ition, !eiir;ng 'me by all means to 
 
 cried "he, ' it is but 
 
 . : and }vrkip--. I
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. w 
 
 ' tivy ma-, K"'^)' as wc a 'l imagine.' We 
 
 were here interrupted by a lorvant, who came to 
 aflc the fquire in to (land up at country d.inces; fo 
 that he left me quite plcafed with the ir.tercft he 
 feemed to take in my concerns. His addrefles, how- 
 ever, to Mifs Wihnot, were too obvious to be mif- 
 taken : and yet fhe feerned nj>t ,:<-rkct!y j leafed, 
 but bore them rather in compliance to the w',11 of 
 her aunt, than from real ii c'ination. I had even 
 the fatisfaftion to fee her lavifh fume kind looks 
 upon my unfortunate fon, which tlie other could 
 neither extort by his fortune nor alliduity. Mr. 
 Thornhill's feeming compofure, however, not a lit- 
 tle furprized me : we lud now continued here a 
 week, at the prefting inftances of Mr. Arnold : but 
 each day the more tendernefs Mifs Wilniot (lie wed 
 my fon, Mr. Thornhill's friendlhip feemed propor- 
 tional; ly to increafe for him. 
 
 He had formerly made us the moft kind aflurance 
 of ufing his interest to ferve the family; but now 
 his generofity was- not confined to pn jinife.s alone : 
 the morning I defigned tor my departure, Mr. 
 Thonhiil came to me with looks of rca 
 to inform me of a piece of fervice lie had <!>>: 
 h : s friend George. This w:ss nothing lefs than h'S 
 having procured liim an ensign's commiiiion in one 
 of the regiments that was going to the \Y 
 for which he had promifed but one hundred pounds, 
 his interefl being furtkient to "el an abate..:, it of 
 the otlier t\vo : ' A> for this trifling piece t 
 continued the young gentleman, I dciire no other 
 * reward but the pleafure of having fcrvcd my 
 ' friend ; and as tor the hundred pounds tu bt 
 4 i. iv. i . ; v abl t( rail it yj.-urie.lv.. 1 :>, i v- 
 
 \uu fijall rer-ay me at yc 1 
 \vas a favour v,e wanted words to GXJ re 
 fenfe of ; ; ihsrefore, gaye my bond for the 
 
 money, an;! tt-.tiiicd as much platitude ai if 1 
 intended to pay. 
 
 George
 
 Uo VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 George was to depart for town the next day to fe. 
 Cure his commillion, in purfuance of his generous 
 patron's diredions, who judged it highly expedient 
 to ufe difpatch, left in the mean time another ftould 
 ftep in with more advantageous propofals. The 
 next morning, therefore, our young foldier wasearly 
 prepared for his departure, and feemed the only per- 
 fon among us that was not affefted by it. Neither 
 the fatigues and dangers he was going to encounter, 
 nor the friends and miftrefs, for Mils Wihnot ac- 
 tually loved him, he was leaving behind, any wav 
 damped his fpirits. After he had taken leave of 
 the reft of the company, I gave him all that I had, 
 my bleffing. < And now, my boy,' cried I, < thoti 
 ' art going to fight for thy country, remember how 
 thy brave grand-father fought for his facred kin"-, 
 loyalty among Britons was a virtue. Go, my boy, 
 and imitate him in all but his misfortunes; if it 
 was a misfortune to die with lord Falkland. Go, 
 my boy, and if you fall, though diftant, expofed, 
 and unwept by thofe that love you, the moft pre- 
 cious tears are thofe withwhicli'heaven bedews the 
 * unburied head of a foldier.' 
 
 The next morning I took leave of the good fa- 
 mily, that had been kind enough to entertain me fa 
 long, not without feveral expreflions of gratitude to 
 Mr. Thornhill for his late bounty. I feft them in 
 the enjoyment of all that happineis which affluence 
 and good-breeding procure, and returned towards 
 home, defpairing of ever finding my daughter more, 
 but fending a figh to Heaven to fpare and forgive 
 her. I was now come within about twenty miles of 
 home, having hired a horfe to carry mr, as I was 
 yet but weak, and comforted myfelf with the hopes 
 offoon feeing all I held deareft upon earth. But 
 the night coining on, I put up at a little public- 
 houfe by the road fide, and afked for Hie landlord's 
 company over a pint of wine. We fate befide his 
 kitchen-fire, which was the beft room in the houfe, 
 *j*d dulled on politics aiidthe news oi' the country. 
 
 We
 
 VICAR OF* \VAKEFIELD. 
 We happened, among other topics, to talk of y 
 Squire Thornlmi, wr.o, the hofl allured me, was 
 liated as much as his uncle, Sir William, who fome- 
 times came down to the country, was loved. He 
 went on to oblerve, thar he made it his whole ftudy 
 to betray the daughters t>f fuch as received him to 
 their houfes, and alter a fortnight or three v. 
 pollefiion, turned them out unrewarded and aban- 
 doned to the world. As \ve continued our difcourfe- 
 in this ir.anner, his wife, who had been out to get 
 change, returned, and perceiving that her hu Aland 
 was er.'.>ying a pltra!iu"c in which (he was nut a 
 (barer, fhcafked li'm, in an ar.gry tone, what he did 
 there; ro which he only replied in an ironic -.\ way, 
 by drinking her health. ' Mr. bymmonds,' cried 
 flie, ' yon ufe me very ill, and I'll bear it no longer. 
 4 Here time j ;rr.-> of the biiiinefs is Ufr for n:e to 
 do, and the fourth left ur.finifiicd, while you do 
 
 * nothing but fo.ik w;ih the guelis all day long, 
 ' whereas, if a froonful of liquor were to cure i;ie 
 ' of a fever, I never touch a c!nn>.' I now foui.d 
 what (he would be at, and immediately poured out 
 aglafs, which (he received with a cUrtfey, and drink- 
 ing towards my good health, ' Sir,' refumcd fhe, 
 ' it is not fo niucfi for the value of the liquor I am 
 ' angry, but one casmot help it when the houfe is 
 ' goin.; out of th? windows. If the cuftomers or 
 ' giie!Ls are to ! , all the burden lies upo.i 
 ' iv.y back, he'd ;i^ lief eat that gla.'s as budge 
 ' alter i hem hin.'l-lf. There, now ;.bovt- li.ui . 
 
 ' have a yonng woman \\iio has COIUK to take up 
 ' .her 1( dgings here, and 1 don't believe (he has 
 ' ^o" any money by her ever civility. I am cer- 
 4 tain (he is very flow of [ aynv.nt, and I wiih (lie 
 ' were ] ut in mind of it.' ' \Vhat fignifies inind- 
 h T,' cr.cd thehoft; 'if (lie be (low, (he is 
 
 * fine ' ' I don't know that,' replied tiie \ ; 
 ' I ir I know that I am hire fhe has been i 
 
 t, asid we have not yet I'een 1 the t. 
 ' her uioney.' ' 1 uip^ofe, my dear,' cried he, we
 
 142 VICAR OF WAJKEFIELD. 
 
 (ball have it all in a lump.' ' In a lump,' cried 
 the other, I hope we may get it any way ; and 
 that I am refolved we will this very night, or out 
 (he tramps, bag and baggage.'' Confider, my 
 dear,' cried the hulband, (lie is a gentlewoman, 
 and deferves more refpeft/ ' As for the matter 
 of that,' returned the hoftefs, gentle or (imple, 
 out fhe (hall pack with a fuflarara. Gentry may 
 be good things where they take ; but for my part 
 I "never faw much good of them at the fign of the 
 
 * Harrow.' Thus faying, (he ran up a narrow flight 
 of (lairs that went from the kitchen to a room over 
 head, and I foon perceived by the loudnefs of her 
 voice, and the bitternefs of her reproaches, that no 
 money was to be had from her lodger. I could 
 hear the remonftrances very diftinctly : ' Out, I fay; 
 
 pack out this moment ! tramp, thou infamous 
 
 (trumpet, or I'll give thee a mark thou won't be 
 
 the better for thefe three months. What ! you 
 
 trumpery, to come and take up an honed houfe, 
 
 without crofs or coin to blefs yourfelf with ; come 
 
 along I fay.' * O dear Madam,' cried the ftran- 
 
 ger, * pity me, pity a poor abandoned creature 
 
 for one night, and death will foon do the reft.' 
 
 I inftantly knew the voice of my poor ruined 
 
 child, Olivia. I flew to her refcue, while the 
 
 woman was dragging her along by her hair, and 
 
 I caught the dear forlorn wretch in my arms. 
 
 Welcome, any way welcome, my deareft loft one, 
 
 my treafure, to your poor old father's bofom. 
 
 Though the vicious forfake thee, there is yet one 
 
 in the world that will never forfake thee; though 
 
 thou haft ten thoufand crimes to anfwer for, he 
 
 will forget them all/ O my own dear,' for 
 
 minutes (he could fay no more, ' my own deareft 
 
 good papa ! Could angels be kinder ! How do I 
 
 deferve Co much ? The villain* I lute him and 
 
 myfelf to be a reproach to fo much goodnefs. 
 
 You can't forgive me. I know you cannot.' 
 
 * Yes, my child, from my heart I do forgive thee : 
 
 Only
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 143 
 
 Only repent, and we both (hall yet be happy. 
 We (hall fee many pleafant days yet, my Olivia.' 
 Ah ! never, Sir, never. The reft of my wretched 
 life mull be infamy aboad, and (hanie at home. 
 But alas ! papa, you look much paler than you 
 ufed to do. Could fuch a thing as I am give you 
 fo much uneafmefs > Sure you have too much 
 wifdom to take the miferies of my guilt upon your- 
 felf.' * Our wifdom, young woman,' replied I. 
 Ah, why fo cold a name, papa ?' cried (he. ' This 
 is the firfl time you ever Called me by fo cold a 
 name.' ' I a(k pardon, my darling,' returned I ; 
 but I was going to obferve, that wifdom makes 
 but a flow defence againft trouble, though at la(t 
 a fure one.' 
 
 The landlady now returned to know if we did no* 
 clmfe a more genteel apartment; to which aflent- 
 ing, we were (hewn a room where we could converfc 
 more freely. After we had talked ourfelves into 
 fome degree of tranquillity, I could not avoid defir- 
 ing fome account of the gradation* that led to her 
 prefent wretched (ituation. ' That villain, Sir/ 
 laid (he, ' from tht firft day of our meeting, made 
 ' me honourable, though private propofals.' 
 
 * Villain indeed,' cried 1 ; and yet it in fome mea- 
 fure furpriles me, how a perfon of Mr. Burchell'* 
 good fenie and feeming honour could be guilty of 
 fuch deliberate bu-fenefs, and thus ftep into a fa- 
 mily to undo it.' 
 
 * My dear papa,' returned my daughter, ' you 
 labour under a ftrange miftake. Mr. Burchell 
 never attempted to deceive me. Inftead of that r 
 he took every opportunity of privately admonim- 
 ing me againfl the artifices of Mr. ThornhiU, 
 who, I now rind, \vas even worfe tlun he repre- 
 fentcd him.' ' Mr. Thornhill !' interrupted I, 
 can it be?' 'Yes, Sir,' returned Ihe, 'it was. 
 Mr. Thornhill who (educed me, who employed 
 the two ladies, as he called them, but who in faft 
 wrc abandoned w&tuen of the town, without 
 
 * breeding
 
 Hi VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 breeding or pity, to decoy us up to London. 
 
 * Their artifices, yuit may remember, would have 
 certainly fucceeded, but for Mr. Burchell's letter, 
 who directed thofe reproaches at them, which we 
 ' all applied to ourfelves. How he came to have fo 
 
 * much influence as to defeat their intentions, ftill 
 remains a fecret tome; but I am convinced he 
 was ever our warrAeft, fincereft friend.' 
 
 ' You amaze me, my dear,' cried I ; ' but now 
 
 * I find my firft fufpicions of Mr. Thornhill's bafe-' 
 4 nefs were too well grounded : but he can triumph 
 in fecurity ; for he is rich, and we are poor. But 
 
 * tell me, my child ; fare it was no i'mali temptation 
 ' that could thus obliterate all the -imprcllions of 
 ' fuch an education, and fo virtuous a difpofition as 
 ' thine ?' 
 
 'Indeed, Sir,' replied me, ' he owes all his tri- 
 umphto thedefire I had of making him,' and not 
 
 * niyielf, haj py. I knew that the ceremony of our 
 ' marriage, which was privately performed by a 
 
 * popilh prieft, was no way binding, and that I had 
 nothing to trufL to but his honour-' ' What,' in- 
 ' ternipted I, ' and were you 'indeed married by a 
 
 * pried in orders?' < Indeed, Sir, we were,' replied 
 f.ie, ' though we were both fworn to conceal his 
 
 * name.'' Why then, my child, come to my arms 
 
 - * again ; and now you are a thoufand times more 
 
 ome than before ; for you are now his wife to 
 
 * all intents and purpofes; nor can all the laws of 
 
 * man, though written upon tables of adamant, 
 
 * leifen the force of that facred connection. ' 
 
 ' Alas, papa,' replied ibo, ' you are but little ac- 
 
 * attainted with his villainies: he has been married 
 ' already, by the lame prielt, to fix or eight wives 
 ' more, wiiom, like me, he lias deceived and aban- 
 
 * doned.' 
 
 ' Has he fo !' cried I, then we muft hang the 
 ' prie/l, and you Hi. ill int'.j-m a:ra'.nft him to-jnor- 
 row.' ' But, S!r,' ivurned ihe, ' \\i\\ that be 
 
 * right, wheyi I 4/11 l\vcrn to iecrefy !' ' My dear,' 
 
 1 replied,
 
 VICAR OF WAKEl-IELD. 145 
 
 I replied, ' if you have made fuch a promife, I can- 
 not, nor will I tempt you to break it. Even 
 ' though it may benefit the public, you muft not 
 ' inform againft him. In all human inltitutions, a 
 ' fmuller evil is allowed to procure a greater good j 
 
 * as in politicks, a province may be given away to 
 
 * fecure a kingdom ; in medicine, a limb may be 
 
 * lopt off, to preferve the body. But in religion, 
 
 * the law is written, and inflexibly, never to do 
 
 * evil. And this law, my child, is right ; forother- 
 ' wife, if we commit a fmaller evil to procure a 
 
 * greater good, certain guilt would be thus incur- 
 
 * red, in expectation cf contingent advantage. And 
 1 though the advantage mould certainly follow, yet 
 ' the interval between commiflion and advantage, 
 which is allowed to be guilty, may be that in 
 
 * which we are called away to anfwer for the things 
 
 * we have done, and the volume of human adtions 
 ' is clofed for ever. But I interrupt you, my dear ; 
 
 * go on.' 
 
 .' The very next morning,' continued fhe, ' I 
 ' found what little expectation I was to have from 
 ' his lincerity. That very morning he introduced 
 ' me to two unhappy women more, whom, like 
 ' me, lie had deceived, but who lived in contented 
 ' proftitution. I loved him too tenderly to bear 
 ' Inch rivals in his affections, and (trove to forget 
 ' my infamy in a tumult of pleafures. With this 
 ' view, 1 danced, drefFed*, and talked ; but (till was 
 
 * unhappy. The gentlemen who vifited there told 
 1 me every moment of the power of my charms, 
 ' and this only contributed to increafe my melan- 
 ' choly, as 1 had thrown all their power quite away. 
 ' Thus each day I grew more penfive, and he more 
 ' infolent, till at lalt the monfter had the aflurance 
 
 * to oft'er me to a young baronet of his acquain- 
 ' tance. Need I defcribe, Sir, how his ingratitude 
 ' (lung me. My anfwer to this propofal was almoft 
 
 * madnefs. I defired to part. As I was going, he 
 ' offered me a purfe ; but I iung it at him with, 
 
 VOL. II. N indignation
 
 6 VICAR OF WAKEFIELt). 
 
 indignation, and burft from him in a rage that for 
 a while kept me infenfible of the miferies of my 
 fituation. But I foon looked round me, and faw 
 myfelf a vile, abjeft, guilty thing, without one 
 friend in the world to apply to. Juft in that in- 
 terval, a ftage-coach happened to pafs by ; I took 
 a place, being my only aim to be driven at a dif- 
 tance from a wretch I defpifed and detefted. I 
 was fet down here ; where, lince my arrival, mv 
 own anxiety, and this woman's unkindnefs, have 
 been my only companions. The hours of plea- 
 fure that I have paifed with my mama and filter 
 now grow painful to me. Their forrows are 
 much ; but mine are greater than theirs 5 for mine 
 are mixed with guilt and infamy-' 
 Have patience, my child,' cried I, ' and I hope 
 things will yet be better. Take fome repofe to- 
 night, and to-morrow I'll carry you home to your 
 mother and the reft of the family, from whom 
 you will receive a kind reception. Poor woman ! 
 this has gone to her heart : but fhe loves you ftill, 
 Olivia, and will forget it.' 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Offences are eafily pardoned 'where there is love at 
 bottom. 
 
 THE next morning I took my daughter behind 
 ir.e, and fet out on my return home. As we 
 travelled along, I ftrove, by every purfuafion, to 
 calm her forrows and fears, and to arm her with 
 refolution to bear the prefence of her offended mo- 
 ther. I took every opportunity, from the profpeft 
 of a fine country, through which we pafled, to ob- 
 ferve how much kinder Heaven was to us, than we 
 to each other ; and that the misfortunes of nature's 
 making were but very few. I allured her, that fhe 
 fhould never perceive any change in my affections, 
 and that during my life, which yet might be long, 
 Ihe might depend upon a guardian and an inftruc- 
 tor. I armed her again.lt the ccufun'S of the world, 
 
 (hew eel
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIEI.D. 147 
 
 (hewed her that Ijooks were fweet unreproaching 
 companions to the miferable, and that if they could 
 not bring us to enjoy life, they would at leaft teach 
 us to endure it. 
 
 The hired horfe that we rode was to be put up 
 that night at an inn by the way, within about five 
 miles from my houfe ; and as I was willing to pre- 
 pare my family for my daughter's reception, I de- 
 termined to leave her that night at the inn, and to 
 return for her, accompanied by my daughter Sophia, 
 early the next morning. It was night before \\e 
 reached our appointed llage : however, after feeing 
 her provided with a decent apartment, and having 
 ordered our hoftefs to prepare proper refrefliments, 
 I kitted her, and proceeded towards home. And 
 now my heart caught new fenfations of pleafure, 
 the nearer I approached that peaceful manfion. A$ 
 a bird that had been frighted from its neft, my af- 
 fedtions out-went my hafle, and hovered round my 
 little fire-fide with all the rapture of expectation. I 
 called up the many fond things 1 had to fay, and 
 anticipated the welcome I was to-Teceive. I already 
 felt my wife's tender embrace, and fmiled at the joy 
 of my little ones. As I walked but flowly, the night 
 wained apace. The labourers of the day were all 
 retired to reft; the lights were out in every cot T 
 tage ; no founds were heard but of the fhrilling 
 cock, and the deep mouthed watch dog, at hollow 
 diftance. I approached my abode of pleafure, and 
 before I was within a furlong of the place, our ho- 
 neft mamffcame running to welcome me. 
 
 It was now near midnight that I came to knock 
 at my door : all was ftill and filent ; my heart di- 
 lated with unutterable happinefc ; when, to my 
 amazement, I faw the hoiile bunting out in a blaze 
 (ftin, and every aperture red with conflagration { 
 a loud convullive out-cry, and fell upon the 
 j-aveii.ent infenliblc. This alarmed my fon, who 
 }iad till tills been afleep, and he perceiving the 
 flmncs, inftantly waked my wife and daughter* and, 
 N 9 *U
 
 i 4 8 VICAR OP WAKEFIRLD. 
 all running out, naked, and wild with apprehen- 
 fion, recalled me to life with their anguifli. But it 
 was only to objects of new terror ; for the flames 
 had by this time caught the roof of our dwelling, 
 part after part continuing to fall in, while the fa- 
 mily ftood with filent agony, looking on, as if they 
 enjoyed the blaze. I gazed upon them and upon it 
 by turns, and then looked round me for my two 
 little ones ; but they were not to be feen. O mifery ! 
 ' Where,' cried I, 'where are my little ones?' 
 
 * They are burnt to death in the flames,' fays my 
 wife calmly, < and I will die with them." That 
 moment I heard the cry of the babes within, who 
 were jnft awaked by the fire, and nothingcouldhave 
 flopped me. ' Where, where are my children >* 
 cried I, nulling through the flames, and burfting 
 the door of the chamber in which they were c< n- 
 fined, ' Where are my little ones?' ' Here, dear 
 
 * papa; here we are!' cried they together, while 
 the flames were juft catching the bed where they lay. 
 
 holding up my children, <-now let the flames burn 
 on, and all my poflTefllons perifli. Here they are, 
 ' I have faved my treafure. Here, my deareft, here 
 * are our treafures, and we mall yet be happy.' We 
 Rifled our little darlings a thoufand times, they 
 clafped us round the neck, and feemed to mare our 
 trafyorts, while their mother laughed and wept by- 
 turns. 
 
 I now ftood a calm fpeftator of the flames, and 
 after fome time began to perceive that my arm to 
 the flioulder was fcorched in a terrible manner. It 
 v.'.'-.s therefore out of my power to give my It,-; 
 afliftance, either in attempting to fave our goods, or 
 preventing the flames fpreading to our corn. By 
 this time 'the neighbours were alarmed, and came 
 running to our afiiiUnce; but all they could do was 
 Ip ftand, like us, Ipec'Utors of the calamity. My 
 
 goodi,
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 149 
 
 goods, among which were the notes I had refervcd 
 tor my daughters fortunes, were entirely continued, 
 except a box with fome papers that (food in the 
 kitchen, and two or three things more, of little 
 confequeuce, which my fon brought away in the be-, 
 ginning. The neighbours contributed, however, 
 what they could to lighten our difirefs. They 
 brought us clothes, and furniftied one of our out- 
 houfes with kitchen utenfils ; fo that by day-light 
 we had another, though a wretched dwelling, to re- 
 tire to. My honed next neighbour, and his chil- 
 dren, were not the leaft aulduous in providing us 
 with every thing neceflary, and offering whatever 
 confola'ion untutored benevolence could fuggeft. 
 
 When the fears of my family had fubfided, curio. 
 fity to know the caufe of my long (lay began to take 
 place ; having therefore informed them of every 
 particular, I pruC'.-cded to prepare them fi>r the re- 
 ception of our loft one, and though we had nothing 
 but wretchednefs now to impart, I was willing to 
 procure her a welcome to what we had. This talk 
 would have been more difficult but for our recent 
 calamity, which had humbled my wife's pride, and 
 blunted it by more poignant afflictions. Being un- 
 able to go for my poor child luyfelf, as my arm grew 
 very painful, I fentmy fon and daughter, who foon 
 leturned, fupporting the wretched .delinquent, who 
 had not the courage to look up at her mother; 
 whom no inftruclions of mine could perfuade to a 
 perfect reconciliation ; for women have a much 
 ftronger fcnfe of female error than men. ' Ah, 
 madam,' cried her mother, ' this is but a poor 
 place you are come to after fo much finery. My 
 daughter Sophy and I can afford but little enter- 
 tainment to perfons who have kept company only 
 with people of diftinftion. Yes, Mils Livy, your 
 poor father and I have fuffcrcd very much of 
 ' late; but I hope Heaven will forgive you.' Dur- 
 ing this reception, the unhappy victim ftood pale 
 and trembling, unable to weep or to reply ; but I 
 N 3 could
 
 7 5 o VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 could not continue a filent fpeftator of her diftrefs; 
 wherefore afluming a degree of feverity in my voice 
 and manner, which was ever followed with fnftant 
 fubmiiiion, ' I entreat, woman, that my words may 
 be now marked once for all: I have here brought 
 you back a poor deluded wanderer ; her return to 
 duty demands the revival of our tendernefs. The 
 re;il Uardfhips of life are now coining fad upon us, 
 let us not therefore increafe them by diilention. 
 among each other. If we live harmonioufly toge- 
 ther, we may yet be contented, as there are enough 
 of us to flint out the cenfuring world, and keep 
 each other in countenance. The kindnefs of Hea- 
 ven is promifed to the penitent, and let ours be 
 directed by the example. Heaven, we are af- 
 fured, is much more pleafed to view a repentant 
 fmner, than ninety-nine perfons who have Hip- 
 ported a courfe of undeviating recl.it ude. And 
 this is right ; for that fingle effort by which we 
 (top fhort in the down- hill path to perdition, is it- 
 felf a greater exertion of virtue, than an hundred 
 acls of juflice.' 
 
 CHAP. IV, 
 None but the guilty can be long and compkatly ml- 
 
 ferable. 
 
 COME afllduity was now required to make our 
 ^ prefent abode as convenient as poflible, and we 
 were foon again qualified to enjoy our former ferenity. 
 Being difabled myfelf from alii ft ing my Ion in our 
 ufiial occupations, I read to my family from the few 
 books that were faved, and particularly from fuch 
 as, by amufing the imagination, contributed to eaf'e 
 the heart. GUI' good neighbours too came every 
 day with the kindeft condolence, and fixed a time 
 in which they were all to aflirt at repairing my for- 
 mer dwelling. Honed Farmer Williams was not 
 lad among thefe viators; but heartily offered his 
 friendfhip. He would even have renewed his ad- 
 drelfes to my daughter} but fhe rejefted them in 
 
 iuch
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. i.,-i 
 
 fuch a manner as totally rep red his future felicita- 
 tions. Her grief feemed fun. od frr continuing, 
 and flie was tne only perfon of our little fociety that 
 a v.eek did not reftore to chearfr.lnefs. She now 
 loft that unblufhing innocence which once taught her 
 fo refpeft herfelf, and to feck pleaftire by pleafing. 
 Anxiety had now taken ftrohg pofleflion of her mind, 
 her beauty began to be impaired with her cuiiflitu- 
 tion, and neglect (till more contributed to diminish 
 it. Every tender epithet beftowed on her fifler 
 brought a pang to her heart and a tear to her r\ ; 
 and as one vice, though cured, ever plants others 
 where it has been, fo her former guilt, though 
 driven out by repentance, left jealoufy and envy 
 behind. I (trove a thousand ways to lelfen her care, 
 and even forgot my own pain in a concern for her's, 
 collecting fuch amuiing patfages of hiftory, as a 
 ftrong memory and fomc reading could fugged. 
 Our happineis, my dear,' I would fay, ' is in the 
 power of One who can bring about a tlioufand 
 unforeseen ways, that mock our forelight. If 
 example be necelf.iry to prove this, I'll give you a 
 dory, my child, told us by a grave, though fome- 
 times a romancing hidorian. 
 
 ' Matilda was married very young to a Neapoli- 
 tan nobleman oi" the firft quality, and found her. 
 felf a widow and a mother at the aj,? of fifteen. 
 As flie flood one day carolling her infant fon in 
 the open window of an apartment, which hung 
 over the river Volturna, the child, with a iudden 
 fpring, leaped from her arms into the flood below, 
 and difappeared in a moment. The mother, 
 (truck with inltant furprize, and making an effort 
 to Cave him, plunged in after; but far from being 
 able to aHift the infant, me herfelf with i;reat dif- 
 ficulty efcaprd to the oppofite (hore, juft when 
 fome French foidiers were plundering the country 
 on that (ide, who immediately made her their pri- 
 loner. 
 
 A
 
 i$i VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * As the war was then carried on between the 
 French and the Italians with the utmofl inhuma- 
 nity, they were going at once to perpetrate thofe 
 
 * 5.. e , xtremes fugge/ted by appetite and cruelty. 
 This baL resolution, however, was oppofed by a 
 
 young officer, who, though his retreat required 
 the utmoit expedition, placed her behind him, 
 
 * and brought her in fafety to his native city. Her 
 1 beauty at firft caught his eye, her merit foon after 
 < his heart. They were married; he rofe to the 
 ' higheft pofts ; they lived long together, and were 
 1 happy. But the felicity of a foldier can never be 
 called permanent : after an interval of feveral 
 years, the troops which he commanded havino- 
 met with a repulfe, he was obliged to take fhelter 
 
 * in the city where he had lived with his wife. Here 
 1 they fuflered a fiege, and the city at length was 
 ' taken. Few hi/tories can produce more various 
 f inftances of cruelty, than thofe which the French 
 ' and Italians at that time exercifed upon each 
 other. It was refolved by-the viftors, upon this 
 occaflon, to put all the French prifoners to death; 
 ' but particularly the hufband of the unfortunate 
 Matilda, as he was principally inftruniental in 
 ' protrading the fiege. Their determinations were, 
 ' in general, executed almoft as foon as refolved 
 upon. The-captive foldier was led forth, and the 
 executioner, with his fword, flood ready, while 
 ' the fpeccatcrs in gloomy filence awaited t'lie fatal. 
 
 * blow, which was only iufpended till the general, 
 ' who prefided as judge, mould give the fignal. It 
 ' was in this interval of anguifh and expectation, 
 that Matilda came to take the laft farewell of her 
 ' hufband and deliverer, deploring her wretched 
 r lituation, and the cruelty of fate, that had faved 
 her from perifhing by a premature death in the 
 river Volturna, to be the fpectator of ftill greater 
 
 * calamities. The general, who was a young man, 
 
 * was ftruck with ftirprize at her beauty, and pity 
 
 * at her diftrefs; but with flill ftrcnger emotions 
 
 when
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 153 
 
 when he heard her mention her former dangers. 
 He was her (on, the infant for whom fhe had en- 
 countered fo much danger, acknowledged her at 
 once as his mother, and fell at her feet. The reft 
 may be eafily fuppofed : the captive was fet free, 
 and all the happinefs that love, friendfliip, and 
 duty could confer on each, were united. 
 In this mSnner I would attempt to amufe my 
 daughter; but (he liflened with divided attention; 
 for "her own misfortunes engrafted all the pity fhe 
 once had for thofe of another, and nothing gave her 
 eafe. In company /he dreaded contempt; and in 
 folitude only found anxiety. Such was the colour 
 of her wretchednefs, when we received certain in- 
 formation that Mr. ThornhiU'was going to be mar- 
 ried to Mifs Wilmot, for whom I always fufpecled, 
 he had a real paflion, though Ii2 took every oppor- 
 tunity before me to exprefshis contempt both of her 
 perfon and fortune. This news ferved only to in- 
 creafe poor Olivia's affliction ; for 1'uch a flagrant 
 breach of fidelity was more than her courage could 
 fupport. I was refolved, however, to get more 
 certain information, and to defeat, if poffib'.e, the 
 completions of his defigns, by fending my Ion to old 
 Wilmot's, with initruclions to know the truth of 
 the report, and to deliver Mifs Wilmot a letter, in- 
 timating Mr. Thornhjll's conduct in my family. 
 My (on went, in purfuance of my directions, and in 
 three days returned, i-.tFuring us of the truth of the 
 account ; but that he found it impoflible to deliver 
 the letter, which h? was therefore obliged to "leave, 
 as Mr. Thornhill and Mifs Wilmot were vifiting 
 round the country. They were to be married, he 
 faid, in a few days, having appeared together at 
 church the Sunday before lie was there, in great 
 fplendour, the bride attended by fix young ladies, 
 and he by as many gentlemen. Their approaching 
 nuptials filled the whole country with rejoicing, anc( 
 they ufually rode out together in the grandeft equi- 
 page that had been in the country for many veurs. 
 
 'All
 
 154- VICAR OF WAKEFJELD. 
 
 All the friends of both families, he faid, were there, 
 particularly the fquire's uncle, Sir William, who 
 bore fo good a character. He added, that nothing 
 but mirth and feafting were going forward ; that all 
 the country praifed the young bride's beauty, and 
 the bridegroom's fine perfon, and that they were, 
 immenfely fond of each other ; concluding, that he 
 could not help thinking Mr. Thornhill one of the 
 moft happy men in the world. 
 
 Why, let him if he can,' returned I : < but my 
 fon, obferve this bed of Straw, and unflieltering 
 roof; thofe mouldering walls, and humid floor 
 my wretched body thus difabied by fire, and my 
 children weeping round me for bread : you have 
 come home, my child, to all this ; yet here, even 
 here, you fee a man that would not for a thoufand 
 worlds exchange filiations. O, my children, if 
 you could but learn to commune with your own 
 hearts, and know what noble company you can 
 make them, you wouid little regard the elegance 
 and Splendours of the worthlefs. AlmoSt all men 
 have been taught to call life a paffage, and them- 
 felves travellers. The fimilic-irie full may be im- 
 proved, when we obferve that the good are joyful 
 and Serene, like travellers that are going tt wards 
 home; the wicked but by intervals happy, like 
 travellers going into exile.' 
 My compaffion for my poor daughter, overpow- 
 ered by this new difaSter, interrupted w hat I had 
 farther to obferve. I bade her mother fupport her, 
 and after a Short time She recovered. She appeared 
 from that time more calm, and I imagined had 
 gained a new degree of refutation : but appearances 
 deceived me ; for her tranquillity was the languor of 
 Overwrought refentment. A fupply cf provisions, 
 charitably fent us by my kind parishioners, feemed 
 to diffufe new chcarfulnefs among the reft of my 
 family, nor was I difpleafed at feeing them once 
 more fprightly and at eafe. It would have been 
 unjuSi to damp their fatisfactions, merely to condole 
 
 with
 
 VICAR OF WAfcEFIELD. 155 
 
 fvith refolute melancholy, or to burden them with 
 a fadnefs they did not feel. Tl.-.is, once more, the 
 tale went round, and the fong was demanded, and 
 chearfulnefs condefcended to hover round our little 
 habitation. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Frejb calamities. 
 
 '"pHE next morning the fun arofe with peculiar 
 * warmth for the feafon ; fo that we agreed to 
 breakfaft together on the honey-fuckle bank : where 1 , 
 while we fate, my youngeft daughter, at my requeft, 
 joined her voice to the concert on the trees about 
 us. It was in this place my poor Olivia firft met 
 her feducer, and every object ferved to recal her 
 fadnefs. But that melancholy, which is excited by 
 objects of pleafure, or infpired by founds of har- 
 mony, foothes the heart inftead of corroding it. 
 Her mother, too, upon this occafion, felt a pleafing 
 diftrefs, and wept, and loved her daughter as be- 
 fore. ' Do, my pretty Olivia,' cried (he, * let us 
 * have that little melancholy air your papa was fo 
 fond of; your fifler Sophy has already obliged us. 
 ' Do, child, it will oblige your old father.' She 
 complied in a manner fo exquifitely pathetic, as 
 moved me. 
 
 WHEN lovely woman fto-ips to folly, 
 And finds too late that men betray, 
 
 What charm can footh her melancholy, 
 What art can w*fti her guilt away ? 
 
 The only art her guilt to covef, 
 
 To hide her fh^me from every eye> 
 
 To give repentance to her lover, 
 And wring hit bofom is to die. 
 
 As (he was concluding the lad ftanza, to which 
 an interruption in her voice from forrow gave pe 7 
 culiar foftnefs, the appearance of Mr. Thornlyty's 
 equipage at a diftance alarmed us all, but parti- 
 cularly iacreafed the unealinefc of my eldeft 
 
 daughter,
 
 15* VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 daughter, who, dcfirous of liumning her betrayer, 
 returned to the h ufe with her filter. In a few 
 minutes he was alighted from his chariot, and 
 making up to the place where I was ftill fitting, en- 
 quired after my l^alth with his ufual air of fami- 
 liarity. Sir,' replied I, * your prefenf aflurance 
 ' only ferves to aggravate the bafenefs of your 
 ' character ; and there was a time when I would 
 
 * have chaftifed your infolence, for prefuming thus 
 ' to appear before me. But now you are fafe ; for 
 
 * age has cooled my paffions, and my calling re- 
 
 * (trains them.' 
 
 ' I vow, my dear Sir,' returned he, * I am 
 
 * amazed at all this ; nor can I understand what it 
 
 * means! 1 hope you don't think your daughter's 
 
 * late excurfion with me had any thing criminal in 
 it.' 
 
 * Go,' cried I, * thou art a wretch, a poor piti- 
 ' fill wretch, and every way a liar; but your mcan- 
 ' nefs fecures you from my anger ! Yet, Sir, lam 
 ' defcended from a family that would not have borne 
 
 * this! And Co, thou vile thing, to gratify a mo- 
 
 * mentary r-affion, thou haft made one poor creature 
 ' wretched for life, and polluted a family that had 
 
 * nothing but honour for their portion.' 
 
 If (he or you,' returned he, * are refolved to 
 ' be miferable, I cannot help it. But you may ftill 
 
 * be happy ; and whatever opinion you may have 
 4 formed of me, you fhall ever find me ready tocon- 
 ' tribute to it. We can marry her to another in a 
 ' fhort time ; and v\hat is more fhe may keep her 
 
 * lover befide ; for I proteft I fhall ever continue to 
 
 * have a true regard for her.' 
 
 I found all my paflions alarmed' at this new degrad- 
 ing propofal ; for though the mind may often be 
 calm under 'great injurie^ little villainy can at any 
 time get within the foul, and fling it into rage. 
 Avon! my fight, tlvni 1 reptile,' cried I, ' nor con- 
 ' tinue to infult me wuh thy prefence. Were my 
 
 ' brave
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 157 
 
 brave (on at home, he would nut iutier this; but 
 I am old and difabled, and every way undone.' 
 ' 1 find,' cried he, ' you are bent; upon obliging me 
 to talk in a hardier manner than 1 intended. But 
 as I have (hewn you what may be hoped from 
 my friendship, it may not be improper to rep re fen t 
 what may be the confequences of my rcientment. 
 My attorney, to whom your late bond has been 
 transferred, threatens hard, nor do I know how to 
 prevent the courfe of juftice, except by paying the 
 money myfelf, which, as I have been at fome ex- 
 pences lately, previous to ray intended marriage, 
 is not fo eafy to be done. And then my toward 
 talks of driving for the rent : it is certain he 
 knows his duty ; for 1 never trouble my;e!f with 
 affairs of that nature. Yet flill I could wifli to 
 ferve you, and even to have you and your daugh- 
 ter prefent at my marriage, which is fhorcly to 
 be folemnized with Mifs Wilmot ; it is t en the 
 requcft of my charming Arabella herfelf, whom 
 I hope you will not refufe.' 
 ' Mr. Thornhill,' replied I, 'hear me once for 
 all : as to your marriage with any but my daugh- 
 ter, that I never will confent to; and though 
 your friendfhip could raife me to a throne, or 
 your refentment fink me to the grave, yet would I 
 defpife both. Thou halt once woefully, irrepa- 
 rably, deceived me. I repofed my heart upon 
 thine honour, and have found it's bafenefs. Ne- 
 ver more therefore expect friend/hip from me. 
 Go, and pol'efs what fortune has given thee, 
 beauty, riches, health, and pleafure. Go, and 
 leave me to want, infamy, difeafe, and forrow. 
 Yet humbled as I am, fhall my heart ftill vindi- 
 cate it's dignity, and though thou haft my for- 
 givenefs, thou fhalt ever have my contempt.' 
 ' If fo,' returned he, ' depend upon it you mall 
 feel the effects of this iiifblence, and v.e mail 
 fbcrtly fee which is the fitteft object of fcorn, you 
 or me.' Upon which he departed abruptly.' 
 You II. O My
 
 ,58 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 My wife and fon, who were prefent at this inter- 
 view, Teemed terrified with the apprehenfion. My 
 daughters alfo, finding that he was gone, came out 
 to be informed of the refult of our conference ; which, 
 when known, alarmed them not lefs than the reft. 
 But as to myfelf, I difregarded theutmoft ftretch of 
 his malevolence : he had already (truck the blow, 
 and I now ftood prepared to repel every new effort : 
 like one of thole inltruments tifed in the art of war, 
 \vhich, however thrown, dill prelents a point to re- 
 ceive the enemy. 
 
 We foon, however, found that he had not threat- 
 ened in vuin; for the very next morning his ftew- 
 ard came to demand my annual rent, which, by 
 the train of accidents already related, I was una- 
 ble to pay. The coafequence of my incapacity was 
 his driving my cattle that evening, and their being 
 appraifed and fold the next day for lefs than half 
 their value. My wife and children now therefore 
 intreated me to comply upon any terms, rather than 
 incur certain deftruclion. They even begged of me 
 to admit his vifits once more, and ufed all their lit- 
 tle eloquence to paint the calamities I was going to 
 endute : the terrors of a prifon in fo rigorous a fea- 
 fon'as the prefent, with the danger that threatened 
 my health from the late accident that happened by 
 the fire. But I continued inflexible. 
 
 ' Why, my treafures,' cried I, * why will you 
 thus attempt to perfuade me to a thing that is 
 not right ! My duty has taught me to forgive him, 
 but my confcience will not permit me to approve. 
 Would you have me applaud to the world what 
 my heart muft internally condemn ? Would you 
 have me tamely fit do\vn and flatter our infamous 
 betrayer; and to avoid a prifon, continually fuf- 
 fer the more galling bonds of mental confinement? 
 No, never. If we are to be taken from this 
 abode, only let us hold to the right, and where - 
 ever we are thrown, we can Ihli retire to a charm -
 
 VJCAR OF WAKEFIELD. 159 
 
 * in g apartment, when we can look round our own 
 ' hearts with intrepidity and pleafure!' 
 
 In this manner we Ipent that evening. Early the 
 next morning, as the 1'now had fallen in great abun- 
 dance in the night, iny (on was employed in clear- 
 ing it away, and opening a pallage before the door. 
 He had not been thus engaged long, when he came 
 running in, with locks pale, to tell us that tv.i> 
 ftrarigers, whom he knew to be officers of juftice, 
 were making towards the hotife. 
 
 Juft as he fpoke they came in, and approaching 
 the bed where I lay, after previoully informing me 
 of their employment and btifinefs, made me their 
 prifoner, bidding me prepare to go with them to the 
 county goal, which was eleven miles off. 
 
 ' My friends,' faid I, * this is fevere weather in 
 ' which you have come to take me to a prifon ; and 
 
 * it is particularly unfortunate at this time, as one ot 
 ' my arms has lately been burnt in a terrible manner, 
 
 * and it has thrown me into a flight fever, and I v. ant 
 ' clothes to cover me, and I am now too weak and 
 1 eld to w alk far in fuch deep fnow : but if it muft 
 be fu ' 
 
 I then turned tp my wife and children, and di- 
 rected them to get together what few things were 
 left us, and to prepare immediately for leaving this 
 place. I entreated them to be expeditious : and 
 defired my fon to allift his eldeft fifter ; who, from 
 a confcioufnefs that (he was the caufe of all our 
 calamities, was fallen, and had loft anguifli in in- 
 lenfibilify. 1 encouraged my wife, who, pale and 
 trembling, clafped our affrighted little ones in her 
 arms, that clung to her bofom in lilence, dreading 
 u> look round at the Grangers. In the mean tin.e 
 my youngelt daughter prepared for our departure, 
 and as (he received fever.il h:nt> to ufe difpatch, 
 in about an hour we w ere ready to depart. 
 
 O a CHAP.
 
 i6o VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Nofttualion, however wretched it feems, but has fame 
 fort of comfort attending //. 
 
 "\X/"E fet forward from this peaceful neighbour- 
 hood, and walked on (lowly. My eideft 
 daughter,- being enfeebled by a flow fever, which 
 had begun for fome days to undermine her confti- 
 tution, cue of the officers, who had an horfe, kindly 
 took her behind him : for even thefe men cannot 
 entire!y divert thcmfelves of humanity. My fon led 
 one of the little ones by the hand, and my wife the 
 other; v. hilel leaned upon my youn'ert girl, whofe 
 tears fell not for her own, but my dwrefles. 
 
 We were now got from my late dwelling about 
 two miles, when we faw a 'crowd running and fliout- 
 ing behind us, confining of about fifty of my pooreft 
 parishioners. Thefe, with dreadful imprecations, 
 fbon feized -upon the two officers of juftice, and 
 fwearing they would never fee their minifter <jo to a 
 gaol while they had a drop of blood to flied in hit 
 defence, were going to ufe them with great feverity. 
 Th'> confcquence might have been fatal, had I not 
 immediately interpofed, and with fome difficulty 
 refcued the officers from the hands of the eim^ed 
 multitude. My children, who looked upon my de- 
 livery now as certain, appeared tranfported with 
 joy, and were incapable of containing their raptures. 
 But they were fcon undeceived, upon hearing me 
 addrefs the poor deluded people, who came as they 
 imagined to do me fervice. 
 
 4 What! my friends,' cried' I, ' and is this the 
 way you love me ! Is this the manner you obey 
 the inftntftions I have given you from the pulpit! 
 Thus to fly in the face of juftice, and bring down 
 ruin on yourfelves and me ! Which is your ring- 
 leader? Shew me the man that has thus feduced 
 you. As lure as he lives, he mall feel my re- 
 fitment. Alas ! my poor deluded flock, return 
 
 < back
 
 VICAR OF V/AKEFIELD. i6r 
 
 back to the duty you owe to God, to your coun- 
 try, and to me. I fhall yet perhaps one day Ice 
 you in greater felicity here, and contribute to make 
 your lives more happy. But let it at Iratf be my 
 comfort when I pen my fold for immortality, that 
 not one here mall be wanting.' 
 They now Teemed all repentance, and melting 
 into tears, camt one after the other to bid me fare- 
 well. I rtiook each tenderly by the hand, and leav- 
 ing them my blcfiing, proceeded forward without 
 meeting any further interruption. Some hours be- 
 fore night we reached the town, or rather village ; 
 for it confided but of a few mean houfcs, having lott 
 all it's former opulence, and retaining no marks of 
 it's ancient fuperionty but the gaol. 
 
 Upon entering we put up at an inn, where we 
 had fuch refrefhments as could moft readily be pro- 
 cured, and I flipped with my family with jny ufual 
 chearfulnefs. After feeing them properly accom- 
 modated for that night, I r.;ext attended the fhcrifTs 
 officers to the prifoii, which had formerly been 
 built for the purpofes of war, and confined of one 
 large apartment, ftrongly grated, and paved with 
 ftone, common to both felons and debtors at certain 
 hours in the four and twenty. Befides this, every 
 prifoner had a frparate cell, where he was locked in 
 for the night. 
 
 I expected upon my entrance to find nothing but 
 lamentations, and various founds of mifery ; but it 
 Y. as very different. The prifoners feemed all em- 
 ployed in one common defign, that of forgetting 
 thought in merriment or clamour. 1 was apprized 
 of the ufual perquifite required upon thefe occafions, 
 and immediately ccmi lied with the demand, though 
 the little 7iu>r. / I had was very near being all ex- 
 ftaufted. i !. 5 v.ns immediately fent away for li- 
 quor, and the whole prifon was foon filled with riot, 
 laughter, and profanenefs. 
 
 ''How,' cried 1 to myfelf, (lull men fo very 
 6 3 wicked
 
 i6z VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 ' wicked be chearful, and (hall I be melancholy f 
 I feel only the fame confinement with them, and 
 * I think I have more reafon to be happy.' 
 
 With fuch reflections I laboured to become chear- 
 ful : but chearfulnefs was never yet produced by 
 effort, which is itfelf painful. As I was fitting there- 
 fore in a corner of the gaol, in a penfive pofture, 
 one of my fellow-prifoners came up, and fitting by 
 me, entered into converfation. It was my cor.tfant 
 rule in life never to avoid the conversation of any 
 man who feemed to delire it : for if good, I might 
 profit by his inftruction ; if'bad, he might be affilted 
 by mine. I found this to be a knowing man, of 
 ftrong unlettered fenfe ; but a thorough knowledge 
 of the world, as it is called ; or, more properly 
 fpeaking, of human nature on the wrong fide. He 
 afked me if I had taken care to provide myfelf with 
 a bed, which was a circumltance I had never once 
 att'iue-.l to. 
 
 ' ^That's unfortunate,' cried he, as you are 
 allowed nothing but ftraw, and your apartment 
 is very large and cold. However, you feem to 
 be fomething of a gentleman, and as I have been 
 one myfelf in my time, part of my bed-clothes are 
 heartily at your fervice.' 
 
 1 thanked him, profeifing my furprize at find- 
 ing inch humanity in a gaol, in misfortunes ; ad- 
 ding, to let him fee that I was a fcholar, that the 
 fage ancient feemedto underftand the value of com- 
 pany in affliclion, when he faid, ton kofmtn aire, ei 
 dos ton etarhn, < and in facl:,' continued I, ' what 
 1 is the world if it affords only iblitude ?' 
 ' You talk of the world, Sir,' returned my fel- 
 low pnfoner; ' the world is in its dotage, and 
 yet the cofraoflMiy or creation of the world has 
 puzzled the philofophers of every age. What a 
 medley of opinions have they not broached upon 
 the creation of the world. Sanconiathon, Mane- 
 tho, Berofus, and Ocellus Jlucanus, have all at- 
 
 tempted
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 163 
 
 * tempted it in vain. The latter has thefe words, 
 
 * Aitarchon ara kai atelutaion to pan, which implies, 
 ' * I afk pardon, Sir,' cried I, for interrupting 
 
 * fo much learning ; but I think I have heard all 
 this before. Have I not had the pleafure of once 
 feeing you at Welbridge fair, and is not your 
 
 * name Ephraim Jenkinion ?' At this demand he 
 only fighed. ' I ftippofe you muft recollect,' re- 
 fumed I, ' one Doctor Primrofe, from whom 
 
 * you bought a horfe.' 
 
 He now at once recollected me, for the gloomi- 
 nefs of the place and the approaching night had 
 prevented his diftinguifhing my features before. 
 Yes, Sir,' returned Mr. Jenkinfon, ' I remem- 
 bered you perfe6tly well ; I bought an horfe, but 
 forgotto pay for him. Your neighbour Flambo- 
 rough is the only profecutor I am any way afraid 
 of the next aflizes ; for he intends to fwear pofi- 
 tively againft me as a coiner. I am heartily forry, 
 Sir, I ever deceived you, or indeed any man ; for 
 you fee,' continued he, fliewing his ftackles, 
 what, my tricks have brought me to. 
 4 Well, Sir,' replied I, * your kindnefs in of- 
 fering me affiflance, when you could expect no 
 return, tliall be repaid with my endeavours to 
 foften or totally fupprefs Mr. Flamborough's 
 evidence, and I will fend my fen to him for that 
 purpofe the fir/I oppor^upjty ; nor do I in the 
 leaft doubt but ne will comply witn my rcqueft.; 
 and as to my own evidence, you need be under 
 no uneafinefs about that.' 
 
 < Well, Sir, cried he, * all the return I can 
 make fhall be your's. You ihall have more than 
 half my bed-rlothes to-night, and I'll take care 
 to (land your friend in the prifon, where I think 
 J have feme influence.' 
 
 I tl.anked him, and could not avoid being fur- 
 prized at the prefent youthful change in his af- 
 for at the time 1 had ff en him before, he ap- 
 peared
 
 ,6 + VICAR OF WAKE FIELD, 
 
 peared at lead fixty. * Sir,' anfwered he, * you 
 ' are a little acquainted with the world ; I had at 
 tliat time falfe hair, and have learned the art of 
 counterfeiting every age from feventeen to feven- 
 ty. Ah, Sir, had 1 but bellowed half the pains 
 ' in learning a trade, that I have in learning to 
 be a fcoundrel, I might have been a rich man at 
 this day. But, rogue as I am, dill I may be your 
 * friend, and that, perhaps, when you lead ex- 
 ' pect it.' 
 
 We were now prevented from farther conver- 
 fation by the arrival of the gaoler's fervants, who 
 came to call over the prifoners names and lock 
 up for the night. A Fellow alfo with a bundle 
 of draw for my bed attended, who led me along a 
 dark narrow paflfage iiWo a room paved like the 
 common prifon, and in one corner of this I fpread 
 my bed, and the clothes given me by my fellow 
 prifoner ; which done, my conductor, who was 
 civil enough, bade me a good night. After my 
 ufual meditations, and having p railed my Heaven- 
 ly corrector, I laid myfelf down, and flept with 
 the utmoil tranquillity till morning. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 A reformation :n the goal; to make laws cotnpleat 
 
 they Jbould reward as --well as punijb. 
 n^ H E next morn~m early I was awakened by 
 -* my family, whofVl found in tears at my bed- 
 fide. The gloomy ftrength of every thing about 
 us, it fcems, had daunted them. I gently re- 
 buked their forrow, alluring them I had never llept 
 with greater tranquillity, and next enquired after 
 my elded daughter, who was not among them. 
 They informed me that yeflerday's uneafmefs and 
 fatigue had encreafed her fever, and it was judged 
 proper to leave her behind. My next care was to 
 lent my fon to procure a ro m or two to lodge my 
 family in, as near the prifon as conveniently could 
 
 be
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 163 
 
 be found. He obeyed, but could only find one 
 apartment, which was hired at a fmall expence, 
 for his mother and fitters, the gaoler with huma- 
 nity conlcnting to let him and his two little bro- 
 thers lie in the prifon with me. A bed was there- 
 lore prepared for them in a corner of the room, 
 which I thought anfwered very conveniently, f 
 was willing, however, previoufly to know whe- 
 ther my little children cnofe to lie in a place which 
 feemcd to fright them upon entrance. 
 
 * \Vell,' cried I, ' my good boys, how do you 
 ' like your bed ? I hope you are not afraid to lie 
 in this room, dark as it appears.' 
 
 * No, papa,' fays Dick, * I am not afraid to lie 
 ' any where you are.' 
 
 * And I,' fays Bill, who was yet but four years 
 old, ' love every place beft that my'papa is in.' 
 
 After this, I allotted to each of the family what 
 they were to do. My daughter was particularly 
 directed to watch her declining fitter's health ; my 
 wife was to attend me ; my little boys were to read 
 to me : And as for you my fon,' continued I, 
 It is by the labour of your hands we mutt all 
 hope to be fupported. Your wages, as a day- 
 labourer, will be full fufficient, with proper fru- 
 gality, to maintain us all, and comfortably too. 
 Thou art now lixteen years old, and haft ftrengtli, 
 and it is given thee, my fon, for very ufeful pur- 
 pofes : for it mutt lave from famine your helplefs 
 parents and family. Prepare then this evening 
 to look out for work againft to-morrow, ana 
 bring home every night what money you earn for 
 our rapport.' . 
 
 Having thus inttrufted him, and fettled the reft, 
 I walkea down to the common prifon, where I 
 could enjoy more air and room. But I was not 
 long then-, when the execrations, lewdnefs and 
 brutality, that invaded me on every fide, drove me 
 back to my apartment again. Here 1 fat for fome 
 
 time
 
 166 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 time pondering upon the ftrange infatuation of 
 wretche?, who, finding all mankind in open arms 
 againft them, were labouring to make themfelves 
 a future and tremendous enemy. 
 
 Their infenfibility excited my higheft compaf- 
 fion, and blotted my own uneafinefs from my 
 mind. It even appeared a duty incumbent upon 
 me to attempt to reclaim them. I refolved there- 
 fore once more to return, and in fpite of their 
 contempt to give them ray advice, and conquer 
 them by perfeverance. Going therefore among 
 them again, I informed Mr. Jenkinfon of my de- 
 fign ; at which he laughed heartily, but commu- 
 nicated it to the reft. The propofal was received 
 with the greateft good humour, as it promifed to 
 aftbrd a new fund of entertaiment to perforis who 
 had now no other refource for mirth, but what 
 could be derived from ridicule or debauchery. 
 
 I therefore read them a portion of the fervice with 
 a loud uriatfefted voice, and found my audience 
 perfectly merry upon the occafion. Lewd whifpers, 
 groans of contrition burlefqued, winking and cough- 
 ing, alternately excited laughter. However, I 
 continued with my natural folemnity to read on, 
 fenfible that what I did might amend fome, but 
 could itfelf receive no contamination from any. 
 
 After reading, I entered upon my exhortation, 
 which was rather calculated at firft to amufe them 
 than to reprove. I previoufly obferved that no 
 other motive but their welfare could induce me to 
 this ; that I was their fellow-.prifoner, and now 
 
 fot nothing by preaching. I was forry, I faid, to 
 ear them fo very profane; becaufe they got no- 
 thing by it, and might lofe a great deal ; ' For, be 
 
 * a(T'jred, my friends,' cried I, ' (for you are my 
 ' friends, however the world may difciaim your 
 ' friend/hip) though you fwore twelve thoufand 
 ' oaths in a day, it would not put one penny in 
 
 * J'oyr purfe. Thn what fignifies calling every 
 
 ' moment
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 167 
 
 moment upon the devil, and courting his friend- 
 fliip, fmcc you find how fcurvily he ufcs >oii. 
 He has given you nothing here, you find, but a 
 mouthful of oaths and an empty belly ; anAby 
 the beft accounts I have of him, he will give you 
 nothing that's good hereafter. 
 * If uledill in our dealings with on? man, we 
 naturally go elfewhere. Were it not worth your 
 while then, juft to try how you may like the 
 ufage of another Matter, who gives you fair pro- 
 mifes at lead to come to him > Surely, my friends, 
 of all ftupidity in the world, his muft be the 
 i'rcatcft, who after robbing an hcufe, runs to the 
 thief-takers for protection. And yet how ;MC 
 you more wife I You are all fceking comfort 
 from one that has already betrayed you, apply- 
 ing to a more malicious being than any thief- 
 taker of them all ; for they only decoy and then 
 hang you ; but he decoys and hangs, and what 
 is worit of all, will not let you loofe after the 
 hangman has done.' 
 
 When I had concluded, I received the compli- 
 ment of my audience, fome of whom came and 
 fhook me by the hand, fwearing that I was a very 
 honeft fellow, and that they delired my further ac- 
 quaintance. I therefore pronu'fed to repeat my lec- 
 tures next day, and actually conceived fome hopes 
 of making a reformation here : for it ever had been 
 my opinion, that no man was paft the hour of 
 amendment, every heart lying open to the (hafts of 
 reproof, if the archer could but take a proper aim. 
 When I had thusfatisfied my mind, I went back to 
 my apartment, where my wife prepared a frugal 
 meal, while Mr. Jenkinlbn begged leave to add his 
 dinner to ours, and partake ct the pleafure, as he 
 was kind enough to exprefs it, of my converfation. 
 He had not yet feen my family, tor as they came to 
 n:y arartnient by a dcor in the narrow pailage al- 
 -:.bcd, by this means they avoided the 
 
 common
 
 i63 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 common prifbn. Jenkinfon at the firft interview 
 therefore teemed not a little ftruck with the beauty 
 of my youngeft daughter, which her penfive air 
 contributed to heighten, and my little ones did not 
 pafs unnoticed. 
 
 * Alas, doclor,' cried he, ' thefe children are 
 
 * too handfome and too good for fuch a place as 
 4 this!' 
 
 Why Mr. Jenkinfon,' replied I, thank Hea- 
 
 * ven, my children are pretty tolerable in morals. 
 
 * and if they be good, it matters little for the 
 reft/ 
 
 ' I fancy, Sir,' returned my fellow prifoner, 
 that it muft give you a great comfort to have this 
 
 * little family about you.' 
 
 ' A comfort, Mr. Jenkinfon,' replied I, ' yes, 
 1 it is indeed a comfort, and I would not be with- 
 1 out them for all the world ; for they can make 
 ' a dungeon feem a palace. There is but one way 
 ' in this life of wounding my happinefs, and that 
 ' is by injuring them.' 
 
 ' I am afraid, Sir,' cried he, ' that I am in forr.e 
 meafure culpable; for I think I fee here,' (look- 
 ing at my fon Mofcs) one that I have injured, and 
 ' by whom I wifli to be forgiven.' 
 
 My fon immediately recollected his voice and 
 features, though he had before feen him in dil>uife, 
 and taking him by the hand, with a fmile Forgave 
 him. ' Yet,' continued he, I can't help wonder- 
 ' ing at what you could lee in my face, to think 
 ' me a proper mark for deception.' 
 
 ' My dear Sir,' returned the other, ' it was not 
 ' your face, but your white (lockings and the black 
 ' ribband in your hair, that allured me. Hut no 
 ' disparagement to your parts, I have deceived 
 
 * wifer men than you in my time; and yc% v.ith 
 all my tricks, the, blockheads have bcc;i too 
 
 * many for me at laft.' 
 
 < I Tup-
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. r 6 9 
 
 c I fuppofe,' cried my fon, ' that the narrative 
 ' of fuch a life as your's mult be extremely inftruc- 
 
 * tive and amufing.' 
 
 Not much of either,' returned Mr. Jenkinfon. 
 Thofe relations which defcribe the tricks and 
 
 * vices only of mankind, by increafing our fufpi 
 
 ' cion in life, retard our fuccefs. The traveller 
 that diftrults every perfon he meets, and turns 
 
 * back upon the appearance of every man that 
 
 * looks like a robber, feldom arrives io time at hi* 
 
 * journey's end. 
 
 ' Indeed 1 think, from my own experience, that 
 < the knowing one is the fillieft fellow under the 
 
 * fun. I was thought cunning from my very 
 childhood ; when but feven years old the ladies 
 
 * would fay that I was a perteft little man ; at 
 ' fourteen I knew the world, cocked my hat, and 
 loved the ladies; at twenty, though I was per- 
 
 * feftly honeft:, yet every one thought me fo cun- 
 ' ning, that no one would trull me. Thus I was 
 ' at laft obliged to turn (karper in my own de- 
 ' fence, and have lived ever lince, my head throb- 
 ' bing with fchemes to deceive, and my heart pal- 
 ' pitating with fears of detection. I ufed cfren. 
 ' to laugh at your honeft Ample neighbour Flam- 
 ' borough, and one way or another generally 
 
 * cheated him once a u?ar. Yet Itill the honeit 
 man went forward without fufpicion, and grew 
 'rich, while I (till continued trickfy and cuming, 
 
 * ajid was poor, without the confolation of being 
 ' honeft. However,' continued he, let me know 
 ' your cafe, and what has brought you here ; per- 
 
 * haps, though I have not (kill to avoid a goal niy- 
 felf, I may extricate my friends.' 
 
 In compliance with this curioiity, I informed him 
 of the whole train of accidents and follies that had 
 plunged me into my prefent troubles, and my utter 
 inability to get free. 
 
 After hearing my ftory, and paufing fome mi- 
 nutes, he flapt his forehead, as ii be had, hit upon 
 
 VCL. II. feme-
 
 , 7 o VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 fomething material, and took his leave, faying, he 
 would try what could be done. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 The fame fubjeft continued. 
 
 HPHE next morning I communicated to my wife 
 and children the fcheme I had planned of re- 
 forming the prifoners, which they received with 
 universal difapprobation, alledgmg the impollibl- 
 lity and impropriety of it ; adding, that my en- 
 deavours would no way contribute to their amend- 
 ment, but might probably difgrace my calling. 
 Excufe me,' returned I ; ' thefe people, Wrtf- 
 ever fallen, are (till men, and that is a very good 
 title to my affections. Good counfel rejected re- 
 turns to enrich the giver's bofom ; and thou-h 
 the inftruclion I communicate may not mend 
 them, yet it will alluredly mend mylelf. If thefe 
 wretches, my children, were princes, there would 
 be thoufands ready to offer their mini (try ; but 
 in my opinion, the heart that is buried in a dun- 
 geon', is as precious as that ieated upon a throne. 
 Vet, my treafures, if I can mend them, I will ; 
 periiaps they will not all deipife me. Perhaps I 
 may catch up but even one from the gulph, and 
 that will be great gain ; for is thereupon earth a 
 <>em fo precious as the human foul ?' 
 Thus faying, I left them, and defended to the 
 common prilon, where I found the prifoners very 
 merry, expecting my arrival ; and each prepared 
 with 'feme gaol trick to play upon the doctor. 
 Thus, as I was going to begin, one turned my 
 wi" awry, as if by accident, and then aJked my 
 pardon. ' A fecond, who Hood at fome diftance, 
 had a knack of ipitting through his teeth, which 
 fell in mowers upon my book. A third would cry 
 Atnen in fuch an affected tons as gave the reft 
 "reat delight. A fourth had flily picked my poc- 
 ket of mr fpccUdes. But there was one whole 
 
 trick
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIBLD. 171 
 
 (i iik gave more univerfal pleafure than all the- 
 .r obierving the manner in which I had dil- 
 pofed my bo.>k* on the table before me, he very 
 dextroufly diipluced one of them, and put an ob- 
 Icene jeft book of his own in the place. However, 
 I took no notice of all that this mifchievous 
 groupe of little beings could do; but went on, 
 perfectly fcnfible that what was ridiculous in my 
 attempt would excite mirth only the firft or fe- 
 cond time, while what was ferious would be per- 
 manent. My delign fucceeded, and in lefs than 
 lix days fonie were penitent, and all attentive. 
 
 It was now that I applauded my perfeverance 
 and addrefs, at thus giving fenfib'ility to wretches 
 diverted of every moral feeling, and now began to 
 think of doing them temporal fervices alfo, by 
 rendering their fituation fomewhat more comfort- 
 able. Their time had hitherto been divided be- 
 tween famine and excels, tumultuous riot and bitter 
 repining. Their only employment was quarrelling 
 among each other, playing at cribbage, and cutting 
 tobacco itoppers. From this lalt mode of idle in- 
 iluftry I took the hint of fetting fuch as chofe to 
 work at cutting pegs for tobacconilts and fhoe- 
 m.ikcrs, the proper wood being bought by a general 
 lubicription, and when manufactured, fold by my 
 appointment : fo that each earned fomething every 
 ti.iy ; a trifle indeed, but fuflicient to maintain him. 
 
 I did not flop here, but inliituted fines for the 
 punishment of immorality, and rewards for pecu- 
 liar induiiry. Thus, in lefs than a fortnight, I 
 hud formed them into fomething focial and hu- 
 mane, and had the pleafure of regarding myfelf 
 as a legiflator, who ,had brought men from their 
 native ferocity into friendihip and obedience. 
 
 And it were highly to be wifiied, that fegillative 
 power would thus direct the law rather to refor.. 
 mation than feverity. That it would feem con- 
 vinced that ihe work of eradicating crimes is not 
 P^ by
 
 i 7 z VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 "by making punifliments familiar but formidable. 
 Then, initead of our prefent prilbns, which find 
 or make men guilty, which inclofe wretches for 
 the commillion of one crime, and return them, if 
 returned alive, fitted for the perpetration of thou- 
 fands; it were to be wiflied we had, as in other 
 pans of Europe, places of penitence and folitude, 
 vhere the accufed might be attended by Inch as 
 could give them repentance if guilty, or new mo- 
 tives of virtue if innocent. And this, but not the 
 increasing punifhment, is the way to mend a fta^e : 
 nor can 1 avoid even questioning the validity of 
 that right which focial combinations have aflumed, 
 of capitally punifhing offences of a flight nature. 
 In cafes of murder the ; r right is obvious, as it is 
 the duty of us all, from the law of (elf-defence, to 
 cut off that man who has (hewn a difregard for the 
 life of another. Againft fuch, all nature rifes in 
 arms, but it is not fo againft him \\ ho fteals my 
 property. Natural law gives me no right to tuke 
 away his life, as by that the horfe he fteals is as 
 much his property as mine. If then I have any 
 right, it mult be from a compact made between us, 
 that he who deprives the other of his horfe fliall 
 die. But this is a falfe compact ; becaufe no man 
 has a right to barter his life, no more than take it 
 away, as it is not his own. And betides, the com- 
 pact is inadequate, and would be fet alide even in a 
 court of modern equity, as there is a great penalty 
 for trifling convenience, fince it is far better that 
 two men fhould live, than one man fhould ride. 
 But a compacl that is falfe between two men is 
 equally fo between an hundred and an hundred 
 thoufand ; for as ten millions of circles can never 
 make a fquare, fo the united voice of myriads can- 
 not lend the fmalleft foundation to falfehood. It 
 is thus- that reafon fpeaks, and untutored nature 
 fays the fame thing. Savages, that are directed by 
 natural law alone are very tender of the lives of 
 
 each
 
 VICAK. OF WAKE HELD. j ?? 
 
 each other; they feldom flied blood but to retaliate 
 former cruelty. 
 
 Our Saxon anceftors, fierce as they were in war, 
 had but few executions in times of peace ; and in 
 all commencing government:, that have the print of 
 nature ftill ftrong upon them, fcarce any crime is 
 held capital. 
 
 It is among the citizens of a refined community 
 that penal laws, which are in the hands of the 
 rich, are laid upon the poor. Government, while 
 it grows older, feems to acquire the morofenefs of 
 age ; and as if our property were become dearer 
 in proportion as it encreafed, as if the more enor- 
 mous our wealth, the more cxtenfive our fears, all 
 our .potTeflions are paled up with new edicts every 
 day, and hung round with gibbets to fcare every 
 invader. 
 
 I cannot tell, whether it is from the number of 
 our penal laws, or the licentioufnefs of our people, 
 that this country mould (hew more convicts in u 
 year than half the dominions of Europe united. 
 Perhaps it is owing to both ; for they jnutually 
 produce each other. When by indiscriminate pe- 
 nal laws a nation beholds the fame punifhment af- 
 fixed to diflimilar degrees of guilt, from perceiving' 
 no diftinclion in the penalty, the people are led to 
 lofe all fenfe of dlfti notion in the crime, and this 
 diftinclion is the bulwark of all morality : thus the 
 multitude of laws produce new vices, and new 
 vices call for frelh restraints. 
 
 It were to be wifhed then that power, inflead of 
 contriving new laws to punifh vie-;, in/lead of 
 drawing hard the cords of fociety till a convuliion 
 come to burft them, inftcad of cutting away 
 wretches as ulelefs, before we have tried their uti- 
 lity, in/lead of converting correction into venge- 
 ance, it were to be wiflied that we tried the reftnc- 
 tiveurts of government, and made law the protec- 
 tor, but not the tyrant of the people* We fliould 
 P 3
 
 'i7 + VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 then find, that creatures whofe fouls are held as 
 drofs, only wanted the hand of a refiner; we (hould 
 then find that wretches, now ftuck up for long tor- 
 tures, left luxury Ihould feel a momentary pang, 
 ivi^ht, if properly treated, ferve to finew the ftate 
 in times of danger ; that as their faces are like ours, 
 their hearts are fo too ; that few minds are fo bafe, 
 as that perfeverance cannot amend; that a man 
 may fee his laft crime without dying for it; and 
 that very little blood will ferve to cement our fe- 
 curity. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Happinefs and mifery ratter the refult of prudence than 
 
 of 'virtue In this life ; temporal evils or felicity 
 
 being regarded by Heaven as things 
 
 merely in themfelves trifling, 
 
 and uniuortby its acre in 
 
 the dijlribution. 
 
 T HAD now been confined more than a fortnight, 
 -* but had not fince my arrival been vi/ited by my 
 dear Olivia, and 1 greatly longed to fee her. Hav- 
 ing communicated my wifties to my wife, the next 
 morning the poor girl entered my apartment, lean- 
 ing on her fifter's arm. The change which I faw 
 in her countenance ftruck me. The numberlefs 
 graces that once refided there were now fled, and 
 the hand of death feemed to have mouldered every 
 feature to alarm me. Her temples were funk, her 
 forehead was tenle, and a fatal palenefs fat upon 
 her cheek. 
 
 ' I am glad to fee thee, my dear,* cried I ; ' but 
 why this dejection, Livy ? I hope, my love, you 
 have too great a regard for me, to permit difap- 
 pointment thus to undermine a life which I prize 
 as my own. Be chearful, child, and we may 
 yet fee happier days.' 
 ' You have ever, Sir,' ' replied fhe, * been kind 
 to me, and it adds to my pain, that I fliall ne- 
 4 ver
 
 COOKY'S Eurnox OF SK:LKCT BRITISH ? 
 
 The Me mr . vtit*l in PrMon .Tjnr 
 i> daoyhters O1H-MI nd Sophia
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIFLD. 175 
 
 * ver have an opportunity of (haring that hanpi- 
 
 * nefs you promife. Happinefs, I fear, is no lon- 
 
 * ger referved for me here ; and I long to be rid of 
 
 * a place where I have only found diftrefs. In- 
 
 * deed, Sir, I wifh you would make a proper fub- 
 miflion to Mr. Thornhill ; it may, in fome mea- 
 
 * fure, induce him to pity you, and it will give me 
 relief in dying.' 
 
 Never, child,' replied I, * never will I be 
 
 * brought to acknowledge nay daughter a profti- 
 ' tute ; for though the world may look up on your 
 
 * offence with fcorn, let it be mine to regard it as 
 
 * a mark of credulity, not of guilt. My dear, I 
 
 * am no ways miserable in this place, however dif- 
 ' mal it may feem, and be affured, that while you 
 ' continue to blef's me by living, he (hall never 
 ' have my confent to make you more wretched by 
 ' marry ing another.' 
 
 After the departure of my daughter, my fellow- 
 prifoner, who was by at this interview, fenfibly 
 enough expoftulated upon my obftinacy, in refuf- 
 ing a fubmifl<on which promifed to give me free- 
 dom. He obferved, that the reft of the faimly- 
 were not to be facrificed to the peace of one child 
 alone, and flie the only one who had offended me. 
 Befide,' added he, ' I don't know if it be juft 
 thus to obflrudl the union of man and wife, 
 which you do at prefent, by refufing to confent 
 to a match which you cannot hinder, but may 
 render unhappy.' 
 
 ' Sir,' replied I, ' you are unacquainted with 
 the man that oppretfes us. 1 am veryTeiifibla 
 that no fubmi'Jion I can make could procure me 
 liberty even for an hour. I am told, that even 
 in this very room, a debtor of hi?, no later than 
 laft year, died for want. But though my fub- 
 ir.iilion and approbation could transfer r;e -from 
 hence to the moft beautiful apartment he is pof- 
 felled of: yet I would grant neither, as fomething 
 
 ' whifperi
 
 176 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * whifpers me, that it would be giving a fanlioa 
 
 * to adultery. While my daughter lives, no other 
 
 * marriage of his fliall ever be legal in my eye. 
 ' Were ihe removed, indeed, I fhould be the bafeft 
 ' of men, from any refentment of my own, to at- 
 
 * tempt putting'afunder thofc who wifb for an union. 
 
 * No, villain as he is, I fhould then wifti him inar- 
 
 * ried, to prevent the confequences of his future 
 
 * debaucheries. But now fliould I not be the mo ft 
 '' cruel of all fathers, to fign an inftrument which muft 
 
 * fend my child to the grave, merely to avoid a 
 ' prifon myfelf ; and thus to efcape one pang, break 
 
 * my child's heart with a thoufand.' 
 
 He acquiefccd in the juftice of this anfwer, but 
 could not avoid obferving, that he feared my 
 daughter's life was already too much wafted to keep 
 me long a prifoner. However,' continued he, 
 
 * though you refufe to fubmit to the nephew, I 
 ' hope you have no objections to laying your cafe 
 
 * before the uncle, who has the fir ft charadler in 
 
 * the kingdom for every thing that is juft and good. 
 
 * I would advife you to fend him a letter by the 
 
 * poft, intimating all his nephew's ill ufage, and 
 ' my life for it, that in three days you flnill have 
 
 * an anfwer.' I thanked him for the hint, and in- 
 ftantly let out about complying ; but I wanted pa- 
 per, and unluckily all our money had been laid 
 out that morning in provifions ; however, he fup- 
 plied me. 
 
 For the three enfuing days I was in a ftate of 
 anxiety, to know what reception my letter might 
 meet with ; but in the mean time was frequently 
 folicited by my wife to fubmit to any conditions 
 rather than remain here, and every hour received 
 repeated accounts of the decline of my daughter's 
 health. The third day and the fourth arrived, 
 but I received no anfwer to my letter : the com- 
 plaints of a ftranger a gain ft a favourite nephew, 
 were no way likely to fiicceed ; fo that thefe hopes 
 i foou
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 1-7 
 
 foon vanilhed like all my former My mind, 1 
 ever, 1H11 fupported itieif, though confinement 
 and bad air began to make a vuible alteration in 
 my health, and my arm that had differed in the 
 fire grew worfe. My children, however, fat by 
 in-, and while 1 was ftretched on my Ilraw, read to 
 me by turns, or liftened and wept at my inflruc- 
 tions. But my daughter's health declining fafter 
 than mine, every meilage from her contributed to 
 increafe my apprehenlions ad pain. The fifth 
 morning after I had wri ten the letter which was 
 fent to Mr. William Thornhill, ? was alarmed 
 with an account that me was fpeechlefs. Now it 
 was the confinement was truly painful to me; 
 my foul was buriting from it's pr fon to be near 
 the pillow of my child, to comfort, to rtrengthen 
 her, to receive her lail willies, and teach her foul 
 the way to heaven! Another account came; (he 
 was expiring, and yet I was debarred the fmall 
 comfort 02 weeping by her. My fellow-prifoner 
 fome time after, came with the laft account. He 
 bade ir.e be patient; fhe was dead! The next 
 morning he returned, and found me with my two 
 linie ones, now my only companions, who were 
 u(ing all their innocent efforts to comfort me. 
 '] hi.-y in treated to read to me, and bade me not to 
 cry, for I was now too old to weep. ' And is not 
 my filter an angel now, papa,' cried the ekleft, 
 
 * and why then are you lorry for her? I wilh I 
 
 * were an angel out of this frightful place, if my 
 ' papa were with me.'' Yes,' added my young- 
 eft darling, ' heaven, where my lifter is, is a finer 
 4 place than this, and there are none but good 
 people there, and the people here are very bad.' 
 
 Mr. Jenkinlbn iijterruped their harmlefs prattle, 
 by obferving, that now my daughter was no more 
 I mould ferioufly think of the reft of my family 
 and attcuij t to fave my own life, which was every 
 day declining for want of neceilaries and wholefomc 
 
 air.
 
 178 VICAR OF WAKE FIELD, 
 aw. He added, that it was now incumbent on me 
 to facrifice any pride or refentment of my own to 
 the welfare or" thofe wJio depended on me for fup- 
 yort: and that 1 was now, both by reafon and 
 juftice, obliged to try to reconcile my landlord. 
 Heaven be praifed,' replied I, ' there is no 
 pride left me now. I fhouVl deleft my own heart, 
 it 1 faw either pride or refentment lurking there. 
 On the contrary, as my opprellbr has been once 
 my panfhioner, I hope one day to prefent him up 
 an unpolluted foul at the eternal tribunal. No, 
 Sir, I have no refentment now ; and though he 
 has jaken from me what I held dearer thao all 
 his treafures, though he has wrung my heart, for 
 I am fick almoft to fainting, very lick, my fel- 
 low prifoner, yet that (hall never infpire me with 
 vengeance. I am now willing to approve his 
 marriage, and if this fubmiffion can do him any 
 pleafure, let him know, that if I have done him 
 any injury, I am forry for it.' Mr. Jenkinfon 
 took pen and ink, and wrote down my iubmiffion 
 nearly as I have exprelfed it, to which I figned my 
 name. My fon was employed to carry the letter, 
 to Mr. Thornhill, who was then at his (eat in the 
 country. He went, and in about fix hours re- 
 turned with a verbal anlwer. He had fome diffi- 
 culty, lie faid, to get a fight of his landlord, as 
 the fervants were mfoient and fufpicious ; but he 
 accidentally faw him as he was going out upon 
 bunfiefs, preparing for his marriage,' which was 
 to be in three days. i!e continued to inform us, 
 that he ftept up in the humbleft manner, and de- 
 livered the letter, which, when Mr. Thornhill 
 had read, he faid that all fubmiilion was now too 
 late and unnecellary ; that he h.id heard of our ap- 
 plication to his uncle, which met with the con- 
 tempt it dclerved ; and as for the reft, that all fu- 
 ture applications fiiould be directed to his attorney, 
 nut to him. He obferved, however, that as he 
 
 had
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIKLD. 179 
 had a very good opinion of the difcretion of the two 
 voting ladies, they might have been the moft agree- 
 able intercellbrs. 
 
 * Well, Sir,' faid I to my fellovv-prifoner, ' you 
 now difcover the temper ot" the man who opprefFes 
 me. He can at once be facetious and cruel ; but 
 let him ule me as he will, I fliall foon be free, 
 in fpite of all his bolts to reftrain me. I am now 
 drawing towards an abode that looks brighter as 
 I approach it: this expectation chears my afflic- 
 tions, and though I leave an helplefs family of 
 orphans behind me, yet they will not be utter- 
 ly forfaken ; fome friend, perhaps, will be found 
 to ailift them for the fake of their poor father, 
 and fome may charitably relieve them for the fak 
 of their Heavenly father. 
 
 Juft as I fpoke, my w;fe, whom I had not feea 
 that day before, appeared with looks of terror, and 
 making efforts, but unable to fpcak. Why, my 
 love,' cried 1, ' why will you tints increaie my 
 afflictions by your own ? What though no fub- 
 million can turn our fevere mafter, though he 
 has doomed me to die in this place of wretched- 
 nefs, and though we have loll a darling child, 
 yet ftill you will find comfort in your other chil- 
 dren when I mail be no more.' < We have in- 
 deed loft,' returned flie, ' a darling child. My 
 Sophia, my deareft, is gone : matched from us, 
 carried off by ruffians!' 
 
 ' How, madam,' cried my fellow -prifoner, 
 Mifs Sophia carried off by villains ! Sure it can- 
 not be ?' 
 
 She could only anfwer with a fixed look, and a 
 flood of tears. But one of the prifoner's wives, 
 who was pr'.lent, and came in with her, gave us 
 a inoiv diitinct account : fhe informed us, that :u 
 my wife, my daughter, and herfelf, were taking 
 a -.valk t(i, vther on the great road, a little way out 
 f the \jiuige, a puit-chuiie and pair druve up t 
 
 them,
 
 VTCAR OF WAKEFIELD. iSi 
 
 ' you (hall ft\- (he letter, which will give you the high- 
 ' tft pleaiure : and if any thing can procure you com- 
 fort, I am fure that will.'' But are you fure,' ftill 
 repeated me, ' that the letter is from himf'tlf, and that 
 ' he is really fo happy '''Yes, Madam,' replied he, 
 ' it is certainly his, and he will one day be the credit 
 
 * and the iupport of cur family !' -Then I thank Pro- 
 
 * vidence, cried fhc, ' that my laft letter hasmifcarried.* 
 
 * Yes, my dear,' continued (he, turning to me, ' I will 
 
 * now confels, that though the hand of Heaven is lore 
 ' upon us, in other inftances, it has been favourable here. 
 
 * By tlie laft letter I wrote my fon, which was in the bir- 
 
 * ternefs of anger, I defired him, upon his mother's blef- 
 
 * ling, and if he had the heart of a man, to lee juftice 
 ' done his father and fitter, and avenge our caufe. But 
 ' thanks be to Him who direcls all things, it has mif- 
 
 * canned, and I am at reft.' ' Woman, 1 cried I, ' thou 
 ' haft done very ill, and at another time my reproaches 
 ' might have been more fevere. Oh ! what a tremendous 
 ' gulph haft thou efcaped, that would have buried both 
 
 * thteandhim in ciK'leis ruin. Providence, indeed, has 
 
 * here been kinder to us than we to ourielves. It has 
 4 preierved the fon to be rather and proteftor of my 
 ' children when I mall be away. How unjuftly did I 
 ' complain of being ftript of every comfort, when I ftill 
 ' hear that he is happy and infenfible of our afflictions ; 
 ' ftill kept in relerve to lupport his widowed mother, and 
 ' topi-otecl his brothers and fifters. But what fitters h* 
 
 ' he left ! he has no fifters now, they are all gone, rob-.' 
 ' bed from me, and I am undone !' 'Father,' inter- 
 mpted my fon, * I beg you will give me leave to read 
 ' this letter, I know it will pit ale you.' Upon which, 
 with my permilTion, he read as follows : 
 
 ' HONOURED SIR, 
 
 ' T Havecalled off my imagination afew moments firm 
 ' * the pleafures that furround me, to fix it upon ob- 
 ' jefts that are ftil! more pleafing,the dear little fire-fide 
 ' at home. My fancy draws that harmleis groupe as 
 ' liftening to every line of this with great compcuire. 
 1 I view thoft- faces with delight, which never felt the 
 VOL. II. O^ defonning
 
 lit* VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * deforming hand of ambition or diftrefs ! But whatever 
 
 * your happinei's may be at home, I am fure it will be 
 Ibme addition to it, to hear that I am perfectly plealed 
 with my fituation, and every way happy here. 
 
 ' Our regiment is countermanded, and is not to leave 
 ' the kingdom ; the colonel, who profeffes himfelf my 
 friend, takes me with him to all companies where he 
 c is acquainted, and after my firtt vifit, I generally find 
 ' myfelf received with increafed refptft upon repeating 
 ' it. I danced laft night with LadyG , and could I 
 ' forget you know whom, I might be perhaps fuccefs- 
 ' ful. But it is my fateftill to remember others, while 
 
 * I am myfelf forgotten by moft of my abfcnt friends ; 
 ' and in this number, I fear, Sir, that I muft confider 
 you, for I have long expected the pleafure of a letter 
 ' from home to no purpofe. Olivia and Sophia too 
 ' promised to write, but feem to have forgotten me. 
 ' Tell them they are two arrant little baggages, and 
 
 * that I am this moment in a moft violent pafTion with 
 ' them : yet ftill, I know not how, though I want to 
 
 * blufter a little, my heart is respondent only to fofter 
 emotions. Then tell them, Sir, that after all, I love 
 them affe&ionatcly ; and be affured of my ever remain- 
 ' ing your dutiful fon.' 
 
 In all our miiery,' cried I, <what thanks have we 
 not to return, that one at leaft of our family is ex- 
 ' empted from what we fuffer. Heaven be his guard, 
 ' and keep my boy thus happy to be the fupport of his 
 widowed mother, and the father of tliefe two babes, 
 
 * which is all the patrimony I can now bequeath him ! 
 May he keep their innocence from the temptations of 
 ' want, and be their conductor in the paths of honour !' 
 I had fcarce faid thefe words, when a noife, like that of 
 a tumult, feemed to proceed from the prifon below ; it 
 died away foon after, and a clanking of letters was heard 
 along the pafiagethut letl to my apartment. The keeper 
 of the prifon entered, holding a man all bloody, wound- 
 ed, and fettered with the heavieft irons. I looked with 
 companion on the wretch as he approached me, but 
 with horror when I found it was my own fon, < My 
 
 George!
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFTELD. 1*3 
 
 * George! my George! and do I behold thee thus! 
 ' Wounded*! fettered! Is this thy hanpinefs! Is this 
 ' the manner you return to me ? O that this fight" could 
 ' break my he.irt at once, and let me die !* 
 
 ' Where, Sir, is your fortitude?' returned my fort, 
 with an intrepid voice ; ' I muft fuffer, my life is for- 
 ' feited, and let them take it.' 
 
 I tried to itftrain my paifion for a few minutes in 
 filepre, but I thought I fhould have died with the effort. 
 ' O, my boy, my heart weeps to behold thec thus, and I 
 ' cannot, cannot help it. In the moment that I thought 
 ' thee bleft, ami prayed for thy fafety, to behold thee 
 'thus again! chained, wounded. And yet the death 
 ' of the youtl*al is happy. But I am old, a veiy old 
 ' man, ami have lived to fee this day. To fee my 
 ' children all untimely falling about me, while I con- 
 ' tinue a wretched furvivor in the midft ofniin! May 
 ' all the curies that ever funk a foul, fall heavy upon the 
 ' murderer of my children. May he live, like me, to 
 fee 
 
 Hold, Sir,' replied my fon, or I flnll blufli for 
 ' thee. How, Sir, forgetful of your age, your holy call- 
 ' ing, thus to arrogate the juftice of Heaven, and fling 
 ' thofe curies upward that muft Ibondefcend to crufh thy 
 4 grey head with definition ! No, Sir, let it be your 
 ' care now to fit me for that vile death I mult fhortly 
 ' fuffer, to arm me with hope and refolution, to give me 
 ' courage to drink of that bitterncfs which mult mortly 
 ' be my portion.' 
 
 ' My child you muft not die : I am fure no offence of 
 
 * thine can dcierve fo vile a puiiiihment. My George 
 ' could never be guilty of any crime to make his anceftors 
 ' amamed of him.' 
 
 ' Mine, Sir,' returned my fon, ' is, I fear, an unpar- 
 donable one. When I received my mother's letter from 
 ' home, I immediately came down, determined to punifti 
 "* the betrayer of our honour, and lent him an order to 
 ' meet me, which he anfwered, not in perfon, but by 
 difpatching four of his domettics to leize me. I 
 ' wounded one who firft aflaulted me, and I fear defpe"- 
 O^a ratcly
 
 184. VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 rately : but the reft made me their pri loner. The 
 coward is determined to put the law in execution 
 againft me ; the proofs are undeniable ; I have fent a 
 challenge, and as I am the firft tranfgreflbr upon the 
 Itatute, I fee no hopes of pavdon. But you have of- 
 ten charmed me with your leffons of fortitude 5 let me 
 now, Sir, find them in your example." 
 ' And, my Ion, you mall find them. I am nowraifed 
 above this world, and all the pleasures it can produce. 
 From this moment I break from my heart all the ties 
 that hold it down to earth, and will prepare to fit us 
 both for eternity. Yes, my fon, T will point out the 
 way, and my foul fliall guide your' s in the aicent, tor 
 we will take our flight together. I r*,w tee, and am 
 convinced you expect no pardon here, and I can only 
 exhort you to leek it at that greateft tribunal where we 
 both fliall Ihortly aniwer. But let us not be niggardly 
 in our exhortation, but let all our fellow-pi ilbntrs have 
 a (hare. Good Jailor, let them be permitted to ftand 
 here, while I attempt to improve them.' Thus laying, 
 I made an effort to rile from my ftraw, but wanted 
 ftrength, and was able only to recline againft the wall. 
 ThcWiibnersaflembled according to my directions, for 
 they loved to hear my counlel ; my Ion and his mother 
 fupported me on either fide, I looked, and law that none 
 were wanting, and then addrefled them with the following 
 exhortation. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 The equal dealings of Providence demonftratcd -ivitb 
 i-gard to the Chappy and the miserable here below. 
 That from the nature of pleafure and fabi, the 
 wretched mull be repaid the balance cf their fuffcr- 
 ings in the life hereafter. 
 ' \fl Y fr' ends > m >' children, and fellow-fufferers, 
 
 < 1V1 wncn i reflect on the diftnbuticn of good and evil 
 here below, I find that much has been given man to en- 
 joy, yet ftill more to fufter. Though we mould exu- 
 4 mine the whole world, we fliall not and one man fo 
 happy as to have nothing left to wish for: but we 
 
 < daily iee thoufands, who by luicide Ihevv \;s they have 
 
 ' nothing
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 185 
 
 ' nothing left to hope. In this life then it appears that 
 ' we cannot he entirely bleft j but yet we may be coin- 
 ' pletely rr.iferable. 
 
 ' Why man mould thus feel pain, why our wretch- 
 
 * eduefs mould be requifue in the formation of univerfal 
 
 * felicity, why, when all other fyftems are made per- 
 ' feet by the perfection of their fubordinate parts, tle 
 
 * great fyftem mould require for its perfection, parts that 
 ' are not only fubordinate to others, but imperfect in 
 ' themfelves : Thele are qxieitions that never can be 
 ' explained, and might be ufelefs if known. On this 
 ' fubjeft Providence has thought fit to elude our curio- 
 ' fity, Iktiified with granting us motives to confola- 
 ' tion. 
 
 In this fituation, man has called in the friendly af- 
 ' fittance of philofophy, and Heaven feeing the incapacity 
 ' of that to confole him, has given him the aid ofreli- 
 ' pon. The conlblations of philofophy are very amu- 
 ' flng, but often fallacious. It tells us that life is filled 
 ' with comforts, if we will but enjoy them ; and, on the 
 
 * other hand, that though we unavoidably have miferies 
 ' here, life is fhort, and they will foon be over. Thus 
 ' do theie confolations deftroy each other ; for if life is a 
 ' place of comfort, it's mortnefs muft be a mifeiy, and 
 ' if it be long, our griefs are protracled. Thus philo- 
 ' ibp'iy is weak ; but religion comforts in an higher 
 
 * ftrain. Man is here, it tells us, fitting up his mind, and 
 ' preparing it for another abode. When the good man 
 ' leaves the body, and is all a glorious mind, he will find 
 ' he lias bepn making himlelf a heaven of happinefs here> 
 ' while the wretch that has been maimed and contami- 
 ' nateJ by his vices, fhrinks from his body with horror) 
 ' and finds that he has anticipated the vengeance of 
 
 * heaven. To religion, then, we muft hold, in every cir- 
 4 cumrtanceof our life, for our trueft comfort : for ifal- 
 
 * re?.t!y we are happy, it is a pleafure to tlu'nk that we 
 
 * can make that happineis unending; and if we are mi- 
 ' lerable, it is veiy conlbling to think that there is a 
 ' place of relt. Thus, to the fortuiute, religion hold* 
 
 C out
 
 iS6 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 ' out a continuance of bid's ; to the wretched a change 
 
 * from pain. 
 
 ' But though religion is very kind to all men, it has 
 
 * promiied peculiar rewards to the unhappy 5 the fick, 
 
 * the naked, the houfelefs, the heavy-laden, and the 
 ' prifoner, have ever rr.oft frequent promifes in our la- 
 
 * cred law. The Author of our religion every where 
 ' profefTes himfelf the wretch's friend ; and, unlike the 
 -' falfe ones of this world, beftows all his careffes upon the 
 ' forlorn. The unthinking have ceniured this as a 
 ' partiality, as a preference, without merit todeferve it. 
 
 * Biit they never reflect that it is not in the power of even 
 
 * Heaven itfelf to make the offer of unceafmg felicity as 
 4 great a gift to the happy as to the milerable. To the 
 
 * nrft, eternity is but a lingle bleflmg, fince, at mcft, it 
 
 * but increales what they already pofiefs. ' To the 
 
 * latter it is a double advantage ; for it diminilhes their 
 
 * pain here, and rewards fliem with heavenly blifs 
 
 * hereafter. 
 
 * But Providence is in all other refpecb kinder to the 
 ' poor than the rich ; for as it thus makes the life after 
 
 * death more deiirable, fo it fmooths the paflage tliere. 
 -* The wretched have had a long familiarity with every 
 ' face of terror. The man of farrows lays himfelf qui- 
 
 * etly down, with no pofleffions to regret, and but few 
 ' ties to flop his departure : he feels only nature's pang 
 ' in the final reparation, and this is no way greater than 
 ' he has often tainted under before ; for, after a certain 
 ( degree of pain, every new breach that death opens in 
 
 * that constitution, nature covers with infenfibility. 
 
 * Thus Providence has given the wretched two ad- 
 
 * vantages over the happy in this life, greater felicity in 
 
 * dying, and in heaven all that iuperiority of pleafure 
 
 * which arifes from contrafted enjoyment. And this 
 ' Iuperiority, my friends, is no iinail advantage, and 
 ' feems to be one of the pleainres of the poor man in the 
 
 * parable ; for though lie was already in heaven, 
 
 * felt all the raptures it could give, y^t it was men- 
 ' tioned, as an addition to his happ'mcis, that he had 
 
 I * once
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 187 
 
 once been wretched, and now was comforted ; that he 
 ' had known what it was to be miferable, and now felt 
 ' what it was to be happy. 
 
 * Thus, ray friends, you fee religion dots what Phi- 
 
 * lofophy could never do : it fliews the ecjiial dealings of 
 
 * heaven to the happy and unhappy, and levels all human 
 ' enjoyments to nearly the lame ftandard. It gives to 
 ' both rich and poor the fame happineis hereafter, aiul 
 
 . ' equal hopes to afpire after it ; but if the rich have 
 
 * the advantage ot enjoying pleafure here, the poor 
 ' have the endlefs (atisfaftion of knowing what it was 
 ' once to be miferable, when crowded with endlefs feli- 
 ' city hereafter ; and even though it fliould be called a 
 
 * fmall advantage, yet being an eternal one, it muft 
 ' make up by duration what the temporal hnppinefs of 
 
 * the igreat may have exceeded by intenfer.ds. 
 
 1 Tnele are therefore the confolations which the 
 
 * wretched have peculiar to themfclves, and in which 
 
 * they are above the reft of mankind ; in other refpefU 
 ' thty are below them. They who would know the 
 
 * miferies of the poor, muft fee life and endure it. To 
 ' declaim on the temporal advantages they enjoy, is only 
 ' repeating what none either believe or praftifc. The men 
 ' who have the neceflaries of living are not poor, and they 
 ' who want them muft be miierabTe. Yes, my friend, we 
 
 * muft be miferable. No vaineftorts ofa refined imagina 
 
 * tion can fboth the wants of nature, can give elaftic 
 ' fw'eetnefs to the dark vapour of a dungeon, or eafe the 
 ' throbbings of a broken heart. Let the philofopher from 
 ' his couch of foftncis tell us we can refift all thefe. Alas ! 
 ' the^efFort by which we refift them is ftill the greateft 
 ' pain. Death is flight, and any man may fuftain it ; but 
 ' torments are dreadful, and thefe no man c^in endure. 
 
 ' To us, then, my friends, the j/romifes of hippinefs 
 
 * in heaven fliould be peculiarly dear, for if our reward 
 ' be in this life alone, we are indeed of all men the molt 
 
 * mik-rable. When I look round thefe gloomy walls, 
 
 * made to terrify, as well as to confine us ; this light, 
 ' that only ferves to (hew the horrors of the place ; thole 
 
 that tyranny has impofcd, or crime made 
 * neceflTary ;
 
 188 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD; 
 
 neceflary ; when I furvey thefe emaciated looks, and 
 ' hear thole groans, O, my friends, what a glorious ex- 
 ' change would heaven be for thefe ! To fly through 
 regions unconfmed as air, to bailc in the iunfliine of 
 
 * eternal blifs, to carol over endlefs hymns of praife, to 
 
 * have no mnfter to threaten or infult us, but the form of 
 gcodnefs for ever in our eyes ; when I think of tht-fe 
 
 * things, death becomes the meffenger of very glad ti- 
 dings ; when I think of thefe things, his ftiarpeft ar- 
 ' row becomes the ftafFof my fapport ; when I think of 
 thefe things, what is there in life worth having ? 
 When I think of thefe things, what is there thatfhould 
 not be fpunied away ? Kings in their palaces mould 
 groan for liich advantages ; "but we, humbled as we 
 ' are, mould yearn for them. 
 
 ( An3 fhall thefe things be ours ? Ours they will cer- 
 tainly be if we but tiy for them ; and what is a com- 
 ' fort, we are fhut cut from many temptations that 
 would retard our purfuit. Only let us try for them, 
 and they will certainly be ours ; and what is ftill a 
 ' comfort, fhoitly too : for if we lock back on paft life, 
 ' it appears but a very fhort ipan, and whatever we 
 may think of the reft of lilt, it will yet be found of left 
 
 * duration ; as we grow older, the days leem to grow 
 ' fhorter, and our intimacy with time ever lefTens the 
 perception of his (lay. Then let us take comfort 
 ' now, for we fhall foon be at our journey's end ; we 
 ' mall foon lay down the heavy burden laid by heaven 
 
 * upon us ; and though death, the only friend of the 
 wretched, for a little while mocks the weary traveller 
 
 * with the view, and, like the horizon, ftill flies before 
 ' him ; yet the time will certainly 'and fiiortly come, 
 ' when we fhall ceafe from our toil ; when the luxuiious 
 great ones of the world mall no more tread us to the 
 earth ; when we mail think with pleafure on our fuf- 
 ferings below ; when we fhall be furrounded with all 
 our friends, or fuch as deferred our friendfhip ; when 
 ' our blifs fhall be unutterable, and ftill, to crown all, 
 * unending." 
 
 CHAP.
 
 Ty 
 ' 
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELDi 189 
 
 CHAP IX. 
 
 projfeffs begin to appear. Let us be inflexible t 
 and fortune -zw3 at laji change in our favour. 
 HEN I had thus finiftied, and my audience was re- 
 tired, the gaoler, who was one of the moft humane 
 of his proteflion, hoped I would not be difpleafed, as 
 what he did was but his duty : obferving that he muft 
 be obliged to remove my fon into a ftronger cell, but he 
 ftiould be permitted to vifit me every morning. I thank- 
 ed him for his clemency, and gralping my boy's hand, 
 bade him farewel, and be mindful of the great duty that 
 was before him. 
 
 I again, therefore, laid me down, and one of my little 
 ones late by my bedfide reading, when Mr. Jenkinfon 
 entering, informed me that there was news of my 
 daughter ; for that Ihe was leen by a perfon about two 
 hours before, in a ftraiige gentleman's company, and 
 that they had (topped at a neighbouring village for re- 
 irelhment, and feemed as if returning to town. He had 
 icarce delivered this news, when the gaoler came, with 
 looks of hafte and pleafure, to inform me that my 
 daughter was found. Moles came running in a mo- 
 ment after, crying out that his lifter Sophy was below, 
 and coming up with our old friend Mr. Burchell. 
 
 Juft as he delivered this news, my Jeareft girl enter- 
 ed, and, with looks almoft wild with plcalure, ran to 
 kils me in a transport of affe&ion. Her mother's tears 
 and fifence alfo mewed her pleafure. ' Here, papa,* 
 cried the charming girl, ' here is the brave man to 
 ' whom I owe my delivery ; to this gentleman's intre- 
 ' pidity I am indebted for my happinefs and lately.* 
 A kifs from Mr. Burchell, whole pleafure feemed even 
 greater than her's, interrupted what me was going to 
 add. 
 
 ' Ah, Mr. Burchell,' cried I, ' this is but a wretch- 
 ' ed habitation you now find us in ; and we are now 
 ' very different from what you laft law us. -You were 
 ' ever our friend : we have long difcovered our errors 
 * with regard to you, and repented of our ingratitude. 
 
 After
 
 i 9 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 After the vile ulage you then received at my hands, I 
 am almoft aftiamed to behold your face ; yet I hope 
 ' you'll forgive me, as I was deceived by a bafe un^e- 
 
 * nerous wretch, who, under the maflc of friendfliio, has 
 ' undone me.' 
 
 ' It is impofiible,' replied Mr. Burchell, that I 
 ' fhould forgive you, as you never dderved my refent- 
 ' ment. I partly law your delnfion then, and is it was 
 
 * out of my power to reftrain, I could only pity it !' 
 
 It was ever my conjecture,' cried I, < that your 
 ' mind was noble ; but now I find it fo. But tell 
 ' me, my dear child, how haft thou been relieved, or 
 
 * who the ruffians were that carried thee away ?' 
 
 Indeed, Sir,' replied me, ' as to the villain who car- 
 ' me ofF, I am yet ignorant. For as my mama and I 
 ' were walking out, he came behind us, and almoft be- 
 ' fore I coulJ call for help, forced me into the poft- 
 ' chaife, and in an inftant the horfes drove away. I 
 ' met liveral on the road, to whom I cried out for af- 
 ' fiftance ; but they difregarded my entreaties. In the 
 ' mean time the ruffian himtelf uled every art to hinder 
 ' me from crying out : he flattered and threatened me 
 
 * by turns, and fwore that if I continued but filent, he 
 ' intended no harm. In the mean time, I had broken 
 ' the canvas that he had drawn tip, and whom mould I 
 ' perceive, at fome diftance, but your old friend Mr. 
 ' Burchell, walking along with his ufual fwiftneis, with 
 i the great ftick for which we ufed fo much to ridicule 
 
 * him. As loon as we came within hearing, I cailed 
 ' out to him b^ name, and intrei'ted his help. I re- 
 ' peated my exclamations feveral times 5 upon which, 
 ' with a very loud voice, he bid the poftiliori ftop ; but 
 
 * the boy took no notice, but drove on with ftill greater 
 
 * ipeed. I now thought he could never overtake us, 
 ' when, in lels than a minute, I faw Mr. Burchell come 
 ' running up by the fide of the horfes, and, with oi;e 
 ' blow, knock the poftilion to the ground. The hor/es 
 when he was fallen, foon ftopt of themfelves ; and the 
 ' ruffian fteppingout, with oaths and menaces, drew his 
 
 * ivvord, and ordered him at his peril to retire j but Mr. 
 
 ' Burchell
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 19 1 
 
 ' Burchtll running up, fhivered his Iword to pieces, and 
 ' then purfued him for near a quarter of a mile ; but he 
 ' made his elcape. I was at this time come out myielf, 
 ' willing to afliit my deliverer ; but he loon returned to 
 ' me in triumph. The poftilion, who was recovered, 
 
 * was going to make his elcape too ; but Mr. Burchell 
 ' ordered him at his peril to drive back to town. Find- 
 ' ing it impoflible to refift, he reluftantly complied, 
 ' though the wound he had received feemed, to me at 
 ' leaft, to be dangerous. He continued to complain of 
 ' the pain as we drove along, fo that he at bit excited 
 
 * Mr. Burchell's companion ; who, at my requeft, ex- 
 ' changed him for another at an inn where we called on 
 
 * our return.' 
 
 ' Welcome, then,' cried I, my child, and thou her 
 ' gallant deliverer, a thoufand welcomes. Though our 
 ' cheai is but wretched, yet our hearts are ready to re- 
 ' ceive you. And now, Mr. Burchtll, as you liave de- 
 ' livered my girl, if you think her a recompence, me is 
 
 * your's ; if you can ftoop to an alliance with a family 
 ' fb poor as mine, take her, obtain her confent, as I 
 ' know you have her heart, and you have mine. And 
 ' let me tell you, Sir, that I give you no fmall treafure ; 
 ' me has been celebrated for beauty, it is true, but that 
 ' is not my meaning, I give you up a trealure in her 
 
 * mind.' 
 
 ' But I fuppofe, Sir,' cried Mr. Burchdl, ' that you 
 ' are apprized of my circumftancts, and of my incapa- 
 ' city to lupport her as (he clden 
 
 ' If your prefent objection,' replied I, ' be meant as 
 ' an evafion of my offer, I defift ; but I know no man 
 ' fo worthy to deierve her as you ; and, if I could give 
 ' her thoufands, and thoufa:-.ds fought litr from me, 
 ' yet my honeft brave Burchell mould be my deareft 
 choice.' 
 
 To all this his filence alone feemed to give a morti- 
 fying refufal ; and, without the leaft reply to my offer, 
 l>c dtmanded if we could not be fumimed with refrefh- 
 from the next inn j to which being anfwered in 
 
 the
 
 19*. VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 the affirmative, he ordered them to fend in the beft din- 
 ner that could be provided upon fucli fhort notice. He 
 befpoke alfo a do/en of their beft wine, and fome cor- 
 dials for me. Adding, with a {"mile, that he would 
 ftretch a little for once j and, though 'in a prifon, aflert- 
 ed he was never better difpofed to be merry. The waiter 
 loon made his appearance with preparations for dinner, 
 a table was lent us by the gaoler, who feemed remarka- 
 bly affiduous, the wine was difpofed in order, and two 
 very well d relied dimes were brought in. 
 
 My daughter had not yet heard of her poor brother's 
 melancholy filiation, and we all feemed unwilling to 
 damp her chearfulnefs by the relation. But it was in 
 vain that I attempted to appear chearful, the circum- 
 ftances of my unfortunate Ion broke through all efforts 
 to diflemble ; fb that I was at laft obliged to damp our 
 mirth by relating his misfortunes, and wifhing he might 
 be permitted to mare with us in this little interval of 
 fatisfaftion. After my guefts were recovered from the 
 confternation my account had produced, I requeued alfo 
 that Mr. Jcnkinfbn, a fellow prifoner, might be admit- 
 ted ; and the gaoler granted my requeft with an air of 
 unufual fubmiffion. The clanking of my fon's irons 
 was no fooner heard along the paflage, than his after 
 ran impatiently to meet him ; while "Mr. Burchell, in 
 the mean time, afked me if my fon's name was George ? 
 to whicli replying in the affirmative, he ftill continued 
 lilent. As loon as my boy came into the room, I could 
 perceive he regarded Mr Burchell with a look of afto- 
 nifhment and reverence. Come on,' cried I, ' my 
 * fbn, though we are fallen veiy low, yet Providence has 
 ' been pleated to grant us fome fmall relaxation from 
 ' pain. Thy fifter is reftored to us, and there is her 
 deliverer : to that brave man it is that I am indebted 
 for yet haying a daughter : give him, my boy, the 
 ' hand of friendmip, he deferves our warmeft grati- 
 ''tude.' 
 
 ^ My fon feemed all this while regardlefs of what I 
 iaid, and ftill continued fixed at a refpeftful diftance. 
 2. My
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 19 5 
 
 MY -Unr brother,' criul his fifter, ' why don't you 
 ' thank my good deliverer ? the brave fliouid ever love 
 each other.' 
 
 He ftill continued his filence and aftoiii foment ; till 
 our gueft at bft perceived himlelf to be known, and, af- 
 fuming all his native dignity, defired my Ion to come 
 forward. Never before" had' I leui any thing fo truly 
 majeftic as the air he afiumed upon this occafion. The 
 greateft object in the univerfe, fays a ceitfun philofopher, 
 is a good man ftruggling with adverfity ; yet there is 
 (HH a greater, which" is the good man that comes to re- 
 lieve it. After he had regarded my fen for feme rime 
 with a fuperior air, ' I again find,' fiid he, ' unthink- 
 ' ing boy, that the fame crime' But here he was inter- 
 rupted by cne of the gaoler's fervants, who came to in- 
 form us that a perfon of diftinftion, who had driven 
 into town with a chariot and itveral attendants, lent his 
 refpt-fts tg the gentleman that was with us, and begged 
 to know when he fliouid think proper to be waited up- 
 cn. * Bid the fellow wait,' cried our gueft, ' till I 
 ' ftiall have leifure to receive him ;' and then turning 
 to my fen, I again find, Sir,' proceeded he, ' that you 
 ' are guilty of the lame offence for which you had once 
 ' my reproof, ami for which the law is now preparing 
 its jufteft puniihments. You imagine, perhaps, that 
 
 * a contempt for your own life gives you a right to take 
 
 * that of another : but where, Sir, is the difference be- 
 ' tween a duelift, who hazards a lite of no value, and 
 ' the murderer who ab with greater fecui ity ? Is it 
 ' any diminution of the gamefter's fraud, when he al- 
 ' ledges that he has ftakcd a counter ?* 
 
 Alas, Sir,' cried I, ' whoever you are, pity the 
 peer ir.ilguiiied creature ; for what he has done \ 
 ' obedience to a deluded mother, who, in the btttefnefs 
 ' of her refenrment required him upon her bkflir.g to 
 ' avenge her quarrel. Here, Sir, is the letter which will 
 ' ferve to convince you of her imprudence, and diminifli 
 
 * his guilt.' 
 
 Hetotk the letter, and haftilyread it ever. ' This,' 
 
 f?ys he, ' though not a perfcft txcufv, is fuch a pallia- 
 
 R tion
 
 194. VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 tion of his fault, as induces me to forgive him And 
 
 now, Sir," 1 continued he, kindly taking my Ion by the 
 land, ' I lee you are furprized at finding me here ; Ivjt 
 ' I have often vifited priibns upon occafions left intereft- 
 ing. I am now come to lee juftice done a worthy man, 
 for whom I have the moft fmcereefteem. I havelono- 
 been a difguifed fpeftator of thy father's benevolence. 
 I have at his little dwelling enjoyed refpecl uncontami- 
 nated by flattery, raid have received that happinefs that 
 courts could not give, from the amufing Simplicity 
 round his fire-fide. My nephew has been apprized of 
 my intentions of coming here, and I find is arrived ; 
 it would be wronging him and you to condemn him 
 without examination ; if there be injury there fliall be 
 redrefs ; and this I may fay without boafting, that 
 none have ever taxed the injuftice of Sir William 
 Thornhill.' 
 
 We now found the perfonage whom we had long en- 
 tertained as an hannlefs, amufing companion, was no 
 other than the celebrated Sir William Thornhill, to 
 whole virtues and fingularities fcarce any were ftrangers. 
 The poor Mr. Burchell was in reality a man of large 
 fortune and great intereft, to whom lenates liftened with 
 applaufe, and whom party heard with conviction ; who 
 was the friend of his country, but loyal to his king. 
 My poor wife, recollecting her former familiarity, 
 feemed to Ihrink with apprehenfion ; but Sophia, who 
 but a few moments before thought him her own, now 
 perceiving the immenfe diftance to which he was removed, 
 by fortune, was unable to conceal her tears. 
 
 _ ' Ah, Sir,' cried my wife with a piteous afpeft, how 
 ' is it polfible that I con ever have your forgivends ; the 
 flights you received from me the Inft time I had the ho- 
 ' nowr of feeing you at our houie, and die jokes which 
 
 * I audacioufly threw out; thefe, Sir, I fear can never 
 
 * be forgiven.' 
 
 ' My dear good lady, 4 relumed he with a fmile, if you 
 had your joke, I had my anlwer; I'll leave it to all 
 the company if mine were not as good as your's. To 
 < fay the truth, I know nobody whom I am difpofed to b e 
 
 angry
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 195 
 
 ' an^ry with at prefent but the fellow who fo frighted 
 ' my little girl here. I had not even time to examine, 
 ' the ralcal's pertbn, fb as to defcribe him in an adver- 
 ' tifement. Can you tell me Sophia, my dear, whether, 
 
 * you flioukl know him again ?' 
 
 'Indee-i, Sir,' replied me, < I can't be ppfitive ; yet now 
 I recollect, he had a large mark over one of his eye-brows.' 
 ' I alk pardon, Madam,' interrupted Jenkinfon, who was 
 by, ' but be fo good as to inform me if the fellow wore 
 ' his own red hair ?' ' Yes, I think fo,' cried Sophia. 
 ' And did your honour,' continual he, turning to 
 Sir William, ' obferve the length of his legs ?' ' I 
 ' can't be fure of their length,' cried the Baronet, * but 
 
 I am convinced of their iWiftnefs ; for he outran me, 
 
 * which is what I thought few men in die kingdom 
 
 * could have done.* 'Pleafe your honour,' cried Jenkin- 
 fcn, ' I know the man ; it is certainly the i'ame ; the 
 ' beft runner in England ; he has beaten Pinwirt of 
 
 * Newcaftle : Timothy Baxter is his name, I know him 
 ' perfectly, and the very place of his retreat this moment. 
 ' If your honour will bid Mr. Gaoler let two of his men 
 
 * go with me, I'll engage to produce him to you in an 
 ' hour at tartheft.* Upon this the gaoler was called, 
 who inftantly appearing, Sir William demanded if he 
 knew him. Yes, pleaie your honour,' replied the gao- 
 ler, ' I know Sir William Thornhill well, and every 
 ' body that knows any thing of him willdefire to know 
 
 more of him.' ' Well, then,' faid the baronet, 'my re- 
 
 cjueft is, that you will permit this man and two of your 
 
 iervants to go upon a meflage by my authority, and, 
 
 as I am in the commifTion of the peace, I undertake to 
 fecure you.' ' Your promifc is nifficient,' replied the 
 other, ' and you may at a minute's wannng fend them 
 ' over England whenever your honour thinks fit.* 
 
 In mirluance of the gaoler's compliance, Jenkinfon 
 was difpatched in fearch of Timothy Baxter, while we 
 were iiululged with the afliduity of our yonngeft boy Bill, 
 who had juft come in and climbed up to Sir William's neck 
 in order to kifs him. His mother was immedhtely going 
 to chailiie his Familiarity, Init the worthy man prevented 
 R z her,
 
 196 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 her, and taking the child, all ragged as he was, upon 
 his knee, ' What Bill, you chubby rogue,' critd he, ' Jo 
 you remember your old friend Burchell ? and Dick. 
 * too, my honeft veteran, ate you here ! you (hall find I 
 ' have not forgot you.' -So faying, he gave each a hrge 
 piece of gingerbread, which the poor fellows eat very 
 heartily; as they had got that morning but a very fcaniy 
 breakfaft. 
 
 We now fat down to dinner, which was ahnoft cold : 
 but previoufly, my arm ftlll continuing painful, Sir Wil- 
 liam wrote a prelcription, for he had made the ftucly of 
 phyfic his amufement, and was more than moderately 
 Skilled in the profeflion : this being fent to an apothecary 
 who lived in the place, my ami wasdrefled, and I found 
 almoft inftantaneous relief. We were waited upon at 
 dinner by the gaoler himfelf, who was willing to do our 
 gueft all the honour in his power. But before we had 
 well dined, another meflage was brought from his ne- 
 phew, defiring permifuon to appear, in order to vindicate 
 his innocence and honour; with which requeft the 
 baronet complied, and defired Mr. Thonihill to be intro- 
 duced. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 former benevolence now repaid with unexpected mtercfl. 
 A/f R- Thornhill made his entrance with a linile, which 
 1V - 1 he feldom wanted, and was going to embrace his 
 uncle, which the other repulfed with an air of dildain. 
 1 No fawning, Sir, at prdint,' cried the baronet, with a 
 look of it-verity, ' the only way to my heart is by the 
 road of honour ; but here I fee only complicated in- 
 ftancirs of faliehood, cowardice and opprefTion. How, 
 is it, Sir, that this poor man, for whom I know you 
 prcfefled afriendfliip, is uted thus hardly? His daugh- 
 ter vilely feduced. as a recompence for his hoipitality, 
 and he himfelf thrown into prifon, perhaps but for re- 
 fenting the infult ? His ion too, whom you feared to 
 face as a man " 
 
 Is it pofftble, Sir,' interrupted, his nephew, ' that 
 my uncle could objeft that as a crime, which his repeat- 
 ed iiiitru&ions alone have pediiadedme to avoid.' 
 
 Your
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 197 
 
 Your rebuke,' cried Sir William, ' is juft ; you have 
 
 ' acted in this inftance prudently and well, though not 
 
 c quite as your father would have done : my brother in- 
 
 ' deed was the foul .of honour ; but thoti yes, you 
 
 have acled in this infhuice perfectly right, and it has my 
 ' warrr.eft approbation.' 
 
 * And I hope,' iaid his nephew, ' that the reft of my 
 ' conduct will not be found to deferve cenfure. I ap- 
 ' peartd, Sir, with tiiis gentleman's daughter at fome 
 
 * places of public amufcment ; thus wliat was levity, 
 ' fcandal called by ri ha; (her n:ime, and it was reported 
 ' that I had debauched her. I waited on her father in 
 ' perfcn, willing to clear myfelf to his fatisfaction, 
 ' and he received me only with inlult and abtife. As for 
 ' the rtft, with regard to his being here, my attorney and 
 ' fteward can beft inform you, as I commit the manage- 
 ' nwnt of bufmels entirely tc them. If he has contracted 
 
 * debts, and is unwilling, or even unable to pay them, it 
 e is their bufintfs to proceed in this manner, and I fee 
 ' no hai lifh.p or injuftice in puriuing the moft legal means 
 ' of ra'refs.' 
 
 ' If this,' cried Sir William, ' be as you have ftated 
 ' it, there is nothing unpardonable in your offence ; and, 
 ' though your conduct might have been more ge;,- 
 
 in not lutttring this gentleman to be opprcfled I y iiibor- 
 
 * dinate tyranny, yet it lias been at Italt equitable.' 
 
 ' He cannot contradict a fingle particular,' replied the 
 fquire, ' I defy h.m todoib, and leveral of my fervants 
 ' are ready to atteft what I 1'iy. Thus, Sir/ continued 
 he, finding thai I was filent, for in facl I could not con- 
 ti aJ.ii 1 1 h;m ; ' tl-iiis, Sir, my own innocence is vindicated : 
 ' but though at your entreaty I am ready to forgive tliis 
 ' gu;;leman every other offence, yet his attempts to'lef- 
 ' len me in your eftecm, excite a rcfentment that I cannot 
 ' govern ; and this tco at a time when his fon was a&unlly 
 ' preparing to t.i'r.e away my life ; this, I lay, was fuch 
 ' guilt, that I am determined to let the law take its courfe. 
 ' I li:i.v. here the chrJK-r.ge that was fent me, and two 
 
 v, in ie Ills to prove it ; one of my fervants lu^ 
 
 R 3 ' \vcvinv!txl
 
 19* VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 wounded dangeroufly, and even though my uncle nlm- 
 
 * lelf would diffuademe, which I know he will nor, yet 
 ' I will fee public juftice done, and he mall luflfcr 'for 
 
 * it.' 
 
 Tliou monfter,' cried my wife, ' haft thou not h-d 
 ' vengeance enough already, but muft my prx>r boy fcvl 
 
 * thy cruelty ? I hope that good Sir William will proteft 
 us, for my fon is as innocent as a child j I am lure lie 
 
 * is, and never did harm to man.* 
 
 'Madam/ replied the good man, < yeurwifhes for his 
 < fafety are not greater than mine ; but I am forry to find' 
 his guilt too plain ; and if my nephew perfifts " But 
 the appearance of Jenkinfon and the gaoler's two ferrants 
 now called off our attention, who entered hawlino- in a' 
 tall man, very genteelly dreit, and anfwering thedefcnu- 
 tion given of that ruffian who carried off my daughter . 
 Here,' cried Jenkinfon, pulling him in, ' here, we nave 
 ' him, and if ever there was a candidate for Tvbura this 
 * is one.* 
 
 The moment Mr. Thomhill perceived the prifcner, 
 and Mi. Jenkinfon, who had him in cuftody, he feemed to 
 fllrink backward with terror. His face became inie with 
 conicious guilt, and he would have withdrawn ; but Jen- 
 kinfon, whoperceived his defign,ftopt him.' What Yquire/ 
 cried he, 'are you afhamed of your two old acquaintance* 
 Jenkmlon and Baxter? But this is the way that all <mnt 
 men forget their friends, though I am refolved I wifl not 
 forget you. Our prifoner, pleafe our honour conti- 
 
 ? n % ? ing t0 Sir William ' ' has ali'tady confefled 
 
 all. This is the gentleman reported to he dano-eroufly 
 
 wounded : he declares that it was Mr. ThoSlfl who 
 
 ' firft put him upon this affair, that he gave him the 
 
 Jthes he now wears, to appear like a gentleman, and 
 
 rurnifhed hna with a poft-cliaifc. The i)hn was laid 
 
 between tnem, that he fliould cany off theyouner bdv' 
 
 ; to a place of fafety, and that there he mouU threaten anil 
 
 ETriry her ; but Mr. Thornhiil was to come in, in the 
 
 n ' ean , tmie ' as if b 7 accident, to her rcV:ue, r. nc i 
 
 tney fhould hght awiule, a^id then he was to have run oil, 
 
 by
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 199 
 
 * by which menns Mr. Thornhill would have the better 
 
 * opportunity of gaining her affections himlelf, under the 
 
 * character of her defender.' 
 
 Sir William remembered the coat to have been fre- 
 quently worn by his nephew, and all the reft the prifoner 
 Inmfelf confirmed with a more cireunittantial account ; 
 and concluding, that Mr. Thornhill had often declared to 
 him, that he was in love with both fitters at the fame 
 time. 
 
 ' Heaven,' cried Sir William, ' what a viper have 1 
 
 * been foftering in my bofom ! And Ib fond of public juf- 
 ' ticc too as he feemed to be. But he fhall have it ; fecure 
 ' him Mi', gaoler yet hold, I fear there is no legal evi- 
 ' dence to detain him.' 
 
 Upon this, Mr. Thornhill, with the utmoft humility, 
 entreated that two fiich abandoned wretches might not 
 be admitted as evidences againft him, but that his fer- 
 vants mould be examined. ' Your fervants !' replied 
 Sir William ; ' wretch, call them yours no longer : but 
 ' come ; let us hear what thofe fellows Ivive to lay ; let 
 
 * his butler be called.' 
 
 When the butler was introduced, he fbon perceived by 
 his former matter's looks that all his power was now 
 over. ' Tell me,' cried Sir William fteinly, ' have you 
 
 * ever feen your matter, and that fellow dreffed up in his 
 ' clothes, in company together ?' * Yes, pleale your 
 
 * honour,' cried the butler, ' a thoufand times : he was 
 
 * the man that always bi ought him his ladies.' ' How,' 
 interrupted young Mr. Thornhill, ' this to my face !" 
 
 * Yes,' replied the butler, ' or to any man's face. To tell 
 ' you atiiith, Matter Thornhill, Inevereitherloved you or 
 ' liked you, and I don't cai e if I tell you now a piece of my 
 
 * mind.' ' Now then,' cried Jenkinfon, tell his honour 
 
 * whctheryou know any thing ot me.' I , ;.lied 
 the butler, ' thit I know much good of you. Tht night 
 
 * that gentleman's daughter was deluded to cur ! 
 
 * you were one of them.' ' So then,' cri-rd Sir William 
 ' I find you have brought a veiy fine witnefs to prove 
 ' your innocence : tliou ftain to humanity ! to allociate 
 
 * with iuch wretches ! But, (continuing his examina- 
 
 tion)
 
 aoo VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 tion) ' you tell me, Mr. 'Butler, that this was theper- 
 
 * ion who brought him this old gentleman^ daughter." 
 ' No, pleafe your honour,' replied the butler, < he did 
 ' not^ bring her, for the 'fquire himfelf undertook that 
 ' buiinefs ; but he brought the prieft that pretended to 
 many them.'' It is but too true,' cried Jenkim'bn, 
 ' I cannot deny it, that was the employment atfigntd for 
 
 * me, and I confefs it to my confufion.' 
 
 ' Good heavens !' exclaimed the baronet, < how every 
 ' new difcovery of his villainy alarms me ! all his guilt is 
 ' now too plain,and I find his prefent profecution was dic- 
 ' tated by tyranny, cowardice, and revenge ; at my re- 
 ' aueft,Mr.gaoler, fet this young officer, now yourprifoner 
 ' free, and truft to me for the confequences. I'll make 
 ' it my bufmefs to fet the affair in a proper light to my 
 ' friend the magiftrate who committed him. But where 
 ' is the unfortunate young lady herielf? let her appear 
 ' to confront this wretch ; I long to know by \vhat 
 
 * arts he has feduced her. Intreat her to come in. 
 { Where is me ?' 
 
 < Ah ! Sir,' faid I, < that queft ion flings me to the 
 ' heart ; I was once indeed happy in a daughter, but 
 Mier miferies' Another interruption here prevented; 
 for who mould make her appearance but Mils Arabella 
 Wilmot, who was next day to have-been married to Mr. 
 Thornhill. Nothing could equal her fin-prize at feeing 
 Sir William and his nephew here before her ; for her ar- 
 rival was quite accidental. It happened that me and' 
 the old gentleman her father were pa/Ting through the 
 town, on the way to her aunt's, who had infifted that her 
 nuptials with Mr. Thornhill fhould be confummated at 
 her houfe ; but flopping for refre/hment, they put up at 
 an inn at the other end of the town. It was there from 
 the window that the young lady happened to obferve one 
 of my little boys playing in the ftixrt, and iniiantly fend- 
 ing a footman to bring, the child to her. fhe learnt fiom 
 him forne account of our misfortunes ; but was ftill kept 
 ignorant of young Mr. Thornh ill's being the cauie. 
 Though her father made fcvcral remonftrancet on the 
 impropriety of her going to apiiibn to viiit us, yet they 
 
 wtie
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. act 
 
 were ineffe&ual : flie defired the child to conducl her, 
 vvhich lie did, and it was thus (he lurprized us at a junc- 
 ture fo unexpected. 
 
 Nor can I go on, without a re$ecVion on thofe acciden- 
 tal meetings, which, though Ait 1 , Kt- 
 
 dom excite our furprize but updjifomc t y oc- 
 
 cafion. To what a fortuitous concurrence do we not 
 owe every pleafure and convenience of our lives ! How 
 many feeming accidents muft unite before we can be 
 clothed or fed ! The peafant mini be difpoied to labour, 
 the fliower muft fall, the wind fill the merchant's lail, or 
 numbers muft want the ufxial fupply. 
 
 We ail continued filent for Ibme moments, while my 
 charming pupil, which was the name I generally gave 
 this young lady, united in her looks companion and 
 aftonilhment , which gave new finilhings to her beauty. 
 ' Indeed, my dear Mr. Thomhill,' cried me to the fquire 
 who me iiippofed was come here to fucour, and not to op- 
 prefs us, ' I take it a little unkindly that you Ihoukl 
 ' come here without me, or never inform me of the fitua- 
 ' tion of a family fo dear to us both : you know I fhould 
 'take as much pleafure in contributing to the relief ci my 
 ' reverend old mafter here, whom I mall ever efteem, as 
 
 * you can. But I find thru, like your uncle, you take a 
 
 * pleafure in doing good in fccrct.' 
 
 ' He find pltaliirc in doing good !' cried Sir William, 
 interrupting her ; no, my dear, his plealiirts are as bale 
 ' as he is. You fee in him, Madam, as complete . 4 v:I- 
 ' lain as ever difgruced humanity. A \\. , afu-r 
 
 ' having dehuled' this poor man's daugi ^^ing 
 
 * againft the innocence of her lifter, his fa- 
 ' ther into prilbn, and the ekkft ion inti caufe 
 
 * he had coni-age to face his betrayer. And, give me 
 
 * leave, Madam, now to congratulate you upon ancfcape 
 ' from the embraces of (iich a monfter.' 
 
 * O gocdncfs,' cried the lovely g;il, how have I been 
 
 * deceived ! Mr. Thornhill ufp'Tned me for certain, 
 ' thai this gentleman's cldeft ion, Captain Primro. 
 
 * ^one off to America with his new married lady.' 
 
 * Aly iw^i..clt Aiu';.,' tiled my wile, he has toUl you
 
 202 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 ' nothing but fai fehoods . My f on George never left the 
 
 kingdom, nor. ever was married. Though you have 
 
 foriaken him, he has always loved you too well to 
 
 ; think of any body elfe; and I have heard him fay he 
 
 would che a bachelor for vour lake,' She then pro-' 
 
 ceeded to expatiate upon the fincerity of her Ion's nation - 
 
 fhe fet his duel with Mr. Thornhill in a proper li-ht, 
 
 from thence fhe made a rapid digrefllon to tile fouu?* 
 
 debaucheries, his pretended manisges, and ended with a 
 
 moft mfillting piehire of his cowardice. 
 
 Good Heavens ! cried Mifs Wilmot, * how very 
 near I have been to the brink of ruin ! But how fee* 
 is my pleafure to have efcapeil it ! Ten thoufand folfc. 
 hoods has this gentleman told me! He had at lafl art 
 enough to perraade me that my promile to the only man 
 efteemeJ was no longer binding, face he had been 
 untaithhi i . By his falfehoods I was taught to deteft 
 one equally brave and generous i' 
 But by this time my Ton was freed from the inairo- 
 brances of juftice, as the perfon fuppofecl to be wounded 
 was detected to be an importer. Mr. Jenkinfon alfo, 
 who had a6ted as his valet de chambre, had drefH up 
 ms hair, and rurmflied him with whatever was neceffaiv 
 to make a genteel appearance. He now, therefore, en- 
 tered, handlomely drefled in his regimentals, and, with- 
 out vanity (for I am above it) he appeared as handfome 
 a fellow as ever wore a military drefs. As he entered, 
 lie made Mifs Wilmot a modeft and diftant bow, for he 
 was not as yet acquainted with die change which the 
 eloquence of his mother had wrought in his favour. 
 JButno decorum could reftrain the" impatience of his 
 bluniing miftrefs to be forgiven. Her tears, her looks, 
 all contributed to difcover the real legations of her heart, 
 For having forgotten her former promife, and having 
 fuffered herielf to be deluded by an impoftor. My fon 
 appeared amazed at her condefcenfion, and could fcaroE 
 believe it real.' Sure, Madam,' cried he, < this is \^t 
 Million ! I can never have merited this ! To be blef- 
 ' fed thus is to be too happy.'* No, Sir,' replied fhe, 
 1 nave been deceived, baiely deceived, elie nothin* could 
 
 have
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 203 
 
 ' have ercr made me unjuft to my promiie. You know 
 
 * my friendfhip, you luve long known it : but forget 
 ' what I have done, and as you once had my warmed 
 
 * vows of conftancy, you fliall now have them repeated, 
 and be a/lured, that if your Arabella cannot be yours, 
 
 * (he fliall never be another's/' And no others you 
 ' fliall be,' cried Sir William, ' if I have any influence 
 ' with your father.* 
 
 This hint was fuff.cient for my fon Mofes, who im- 
 mediately flew to the inn where the old gentleman was, 
 to inform him of every circumftance that had happened. 
 But in the mean time the fquire, perceiving that he was 
 on every fide undone, now finding .that no hopes were 
 left from flattery or diiumulation, concluded that his 
 wifeft way would be to turn ami face his puriuers. 
 Thus, laying aiiue all (hame, he appeared the open har- 
 dy villiin. ' I find then,' cried lie, ' that I am to expeft 
 
 * no juftice here ; but I ?.m refolved it fliall be done me. 
 
 * You fliall know, Sir/ turning to Sir William, ' I am 
 ' no longer a poor depem'.anr upon your favours. I (corn 
 ' them. Nothing can keep Mifs Wilmot's fortune from 
 me, which, I thank her father's afliduity, is pretty 
 
 * large. The articles, ami a bond for her fortune, are 
 
 * iigned, and iaie in my poflciuon. It was her fortune, 
 
 * not her jx ribn, that induced me to wuli for this match j 
 ar.t! poficifed of the one, let who will take the other.' 
 
 s was an alarming blow j Sir William was fenfible 
 of the juftnefs of his claims, for he liad been infhim.-Siital 
 m drawing up the marriage-articles himielf. Mifs Wil- 
 mot, t'r.crcfors , perceiving that herfortune was irretriev- 
 ably loft, tuniing to my Ion, (he alked if the lois of for- 
 tune could lefiei. her value to him? Though fortune,' 
 laid (he, is out uf my power, at lead I have my hand 
 
 * to give.' 
 
 ' And that, Madam," cried her real lover, ' was, in- 
 
 * deed, all hat you ever had to give: at leaft, all I ever 
 ' thought worth the acceptance. And, I now proteft, 
 ' my Arabella, by all that's happy, your want of for- 
 ' tune this moment encrciks my pleafure, as itfen'es to 
 convince ray i'weet girl of my finc'ity.' 
 
 Mr.
 
 204 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 Mr. Wilraot now entering, he feemed not a little 
 pleaied at the danger his daughter had juft efcaped, and 
 readily confented to a diflblution of the match. But, 
 finding that her fortune, which was fecured to Mr. 
 Thornhill by bond, would not be given up, nothin- 
 could exceed his difappointment. He now law that his 
 money muft all go to enrich one who had no fortune 
 of his own. He could bear his being a rafcal, but to 
 want an equivalent to his daughter's fortune was worm- 
 wood. He fat, therefore, for fome minutes, empluyed 
 in the moft mortifying Speculation, till Sir William at- 
 tempted to lefien his anxiety. ' I muft confeis, Sir,' 
 cried he,' ' that your prefent difappointment does not 
 ' entirely difpleafe me. Your immoderate paflion for 
 
 * wealth is nowjuftly punifhed. But though theyouno- 
 lady cannot be rich, fhe has ftill a fufficient competence 
 to give content. Here you fee an honeft young ibl- 
 ' dier, who is willing to take her without fortune ; they 
 had long loved each other, and, for the friendfhip I bear 
 ' his father, my intereft mall not be wanting in his own 
 ' promotion. Leave, then, that ambition which diiap- 
 ' points you, and for once admit that happinefs which 
 ' courts your acceptance. 
 
 1 Sir William,' replied the old gentleman, be af- 
 ' fared I never yet forced her inclinations, nor will I 
 
 * now. If fhe ftill continues to love this young gentle- 
 ' man, let her have him with all my heart. There is 
 ' ftill, thank Heaven, fome fortune left, and your pro- 
 ' mile will make it ibmething more. Only let my old" 
 
 * friend here,' (meaning me) ' give a promiie of fettling 
 ' fix thoufand pounds upon my girl, if ever he mould 
 ' come to his fortune, and I am ready this night to be 
 
 * the firft to join them together.' 
 
 As it now remained with me to make the young cou- 
 ple happy, I readily gave a promife of making the fet- 
 tlement he required ; which, to one who had i'uch little 
 expedition as I, was no great favour. We had now 
 then-fore the fatisfaftion of feeing them fly into each 
 other's arms in a tranfport. < After all my misfortunes,' 
 cried my fon George, to be thus rewarded ! Sure this 
 
 is
 
 VICAR OF WAKE FIELD. 205 
 
 ' is more than I could ever have prefumed to hope for. 
 
 * To be poficfled of all that's go<xi, and after fuchanin- 
 1 terval of pain! my warmed: wifhes could never rile fb 
 ' high!' ' Yes, my George,' returned his lovely bride, 
 ' now let the wretch take my fortune ; fince you are 
 ' happy without it, fo am I. O what an exchange have 
 ' I made, from the bafcft of men to the deareft, l>eft ! 
 ' Let him now enjoy our fortune, I now can be happy 
 ' even in indigence/ ' And I promile you,' cried the 
 Tquire, with a malicious grin, * that I fivj.ll be very 
 
 * happy with what you defpife/ ' Hold, hold, Sir/ 
 cried Jenkinlbn, ' there are two words to that bargain. 
 
 * As for that lady's fortune, Sfr, you (hall never touch 
 ' a (ingle ftiver of it.' Pray, your honour/continued he 
 to Sir William, * can the 'iquire have this lady's for- 
 ' tune if he be married to another ?' ' How can you 
 
 * make fuch a fimple demand ?' replied the Baronet ; 
 ' undoubtedly he cannot/ ' I am ferry for that/ cried 
 Jenkinfon ; ' for as we have been fellow-fporters, I 
 ' have a friendihip for him. But I muft dechue, well 
 ' as I love him, that his contract is not worth a tobacco 
 ' ftopjier, for he is married already/ ' You lie like a 
 ' ral'cal/ returned the 'Iquire, who feemed rouzed by 
 this infult ; ' I never was legally married to any wo- 
 ' man/ ' Indeed, begging your honour's pardon/ re- 
 plied the other, ' you were : and I hope you will (hew 
 ' a proper return of friendmip to your own honeft Jen- 
 ' Jiinfon, who brings you a wife, and if the company 
 ' leftrains the curiofity a few minutes, they (hall lee 
 
 * her/ So faying, he went off with his utiial celerity, 
 and left us all unable to form any probable conjecture 
 as to his defign. ' Aye, let him go/ cried the Tquire ; 
 
 * whatever elle I may have done, I defy him there. I 
 
 * am too old now to be frightened with fquibs/ 
 
 ' I am (urprized/ faid the B.iionet, \viiat the fellow 
 ' can intend r y this. Some low piece of humour I iup- 
 ' pole ! ' Perhaps, Sir,' replied I, he may have a more 
 
 * iericus meaning. For when we reflect on the various 
 4 itiitiuei this gtntlciiiaji had laid to Induce innocence, 
 
 S
 
 2o6 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 * perhaps fome one more artful than the r^k lias been 
 found able to deceive him. When we coniider what 
 
 * numbers he has ruined, how many parents now feel 
 with an anguifh, the infamy and the contamination 
 
 * which he has brought into their families, it would 
 not mi-prize me, if Ibme of them Amazement! Do I 
 'lee my left daughter! Do I hold her! It is, it is 
 ' my life, my happinefs. I thought thee loft, my 
 ' Olivia, yet ftill I hold thee, and ft, 11 thou malt live to 
 
 * blefs me.' The warmeft tranlports of the fondeft lover 
 were not greater than mine, when I faw him introduce 
 my child, and held my daughter in my arms, whofe 
 filence only (poke her raptures. ' And art thou retirni- 
 
 ed to me, my darling,' cried I, ' to be my comfort in 
 age!' < That me is,' cried Jenkinfon, 'and make 
 much of her, for flie is your own honourable child, 
 and as honeft a woman as any in the whole room, let 
 the other be who me will. And as for you, (quire, as 
 fure as you ftand there, this young lady is your law- 
 ful wedded wife. And <to convince you that I fpeak 
 nothing but the truth, here is the licenfe by which you 
 were married together.' So laying, he put the licenfe 
 
 into the baronet's hands, who read it, and found it 
 
 perfect in every refpecV. ' And now gentlemen,' con-. 
 
 tinned he, ' I find you are furprired at all this ; but a 
 few words will explain the difficulty. That there 
 (quire of renown, for whom I have a great friend/hip, 
 but that's between ourfelves, has often employed me 
 in doing odd little things for him. Among the reft he 
 commiiHoned me to procure him a fali'e licenfe and a 
 falie prieft, in order to deceive this young lady. But 
 as I was very much his friend, what did I do but went 
 and got a true licenfe and a true prieft, and married 
 them both as fall as the cloth could make them. Perhaps 
 you'll think it was generofity made me do all this. But 
 no. To my (hame I confefs it. My only defign was 
 to keep the licenfe, and let the fquire know that 
 I could prove it upon him whenever I thought proper, 
 
 to make iuoi come down whenever I wanted money.* 
 
 A burft
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 107 
 
 A burft of plealurt now feemed to fill the whole apart- 
 ment $ our joy reached even to the common room, where 
 the prifoners themfelves fympathized, 
 And fhook their chains 
 In tnnfport and rude harmony. 
 Happjnefs was expanded upon every face, and even 
 Olivia's cheek Teemed fltifhed with pleafure. To be thus 
 rcftored- to reputation, to friends and fortune at once, 
 was a rapture fufficient to ftop the progrefs of decay, and 
 reltore former health and vivacity. But perhaps among 
 all there was not one who felt fincerer pleaiure than I. 
 Still holding the dear loved child in my arms, I afkcd 
 my heart if thele tranfports were not delulive. ' How 
 ' could you,' cried I, turning to Mr. Jenkinfon, ' how 
 
 * could you add to my mif cries by the ftory of her death ? 
 ' But it matters not ; my pleafure at finding her again 
 is more than a recompence for*the pain.' 
 
 ' As to your queftion,' replied Jenkinfon, 'that is 
 
 * eafily anfwcred. I thought the only probable means 
 
 * of treeing you from prilbn, was by fxibmitting to the 
 ' iquire, and coiiieirting to his marriage with the other 
 ' young lady. But thefe you had vowed never to grant 
 
 * while your daughter was living, there was therefore no 
 ' other method to bring things to bear, but by per- 
 ' fuading you that me was dead. I prevailed on your 
 ' wife to join in the deceit, and we have not had a fit op- 
 ' portunity of undeceiving you till now.' 
 
 In the whole aflembly now there only appeared two 
 faces that did not glow with tranfport. Mr. Thornhill's 
 aflurance had entirely foriaken him ; he now faw the 
 gulph of infamy and want before him, and trembled to 
 take the plunge. He therefore fell on his knees before 
 his uncle, and in a voice of piercing mifery implored 
 companion. Sir William was going to fpum him away, 
 but at my requeft he raifed him, and after paufmg a tew 
 moments, ' Thy vices, cnmes, and ingratitude,' cried 
 he, ' delerve no tenderneis ; yet thou fhalt not be en- 
 
 * tirely forfaken j a bare competence (hall be iupplied to 
 
 * lupport the wants of life, but not its follies. This 
 
 S z young
 
 o8 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 young lady, thy wife, mall be put in pofleffion of a 
 third part of that fortune which once was thine and 
 from her tendernefs alone thou art to expeft any ex- 
 traordinary fupplies for the future.' He was going to 
 expreis his gratitude for fuch kindnefs in a fet fpeech j 
 but the baronet prevented him, by bidding him not 
 aggravate his meannefs, which was already but too ap- 
 parent. He ordered him at the fame time to be gone, 
 and from all his former domeftics to chute one, fuch as 
 he Ihould think proper, which was all that mould be 
 granted to attend him. 
 
 As foon as he left us, Sir William very politely ftept 
 up to her with a Imile, and wilhed her joy. His ex- 
 ample was followed by Mifs Wilmot and her father ; 
 my wife tookiffed her daughter with much affeft ion, as, 
 to ufe her own expreflion, me was now made an honeft 
 women of. Sophia aftd Moles followed in turn and 
 even our benef aftor Jenkinfon defired to be admitted to 
 that honour. Our fatisfaftion teemed fcarce capable of 
 increaie. Sir William, whole greateft pleafure was in 
 doing good, now looked round, with a countenance 
 open as the iun, and faw nothing but joy in the looks of 
 all, except that of my daughter Sophia, who, for fome 
 reafcns we could not comprehend, did not feem perfectly 
 fatisfied. ' I think now, 1 cried, he with a fmiie, that 
 
 * all the company, except one or two, feem perfectly 
 ' happy. There only remains a piece of jurtice tor me 
 ' to do. You are ieniibk, Sir,' continued he turning to 
 me, ' of the obligations we both owe Mr. Jenkinfon. 
 ' And it is but juftice we mould both reward him for 
 
 * it. Mifs Sophia will, lam fure, make him veiy happy, 
 
 * and he mail have from me five hundred pounds as 
 c her fortune, and upon this T am fure they can live very 
 1 comfortably together. Come Mil's Sophia, what fay 
 
 * you to this match of my ma-king ? Will ycu have him ?' 
 My poor girl leemed alinoft finking into her mother's 
 arms at the hideous propolal. ' Have him, Sir !' cried 
 flie faintly : ' No Sir, never.' ' What cried he again, 
 
 * Not Mr. Jenkinfon, your benefactor, a handfome 
 
 young
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. aa$ 
 
 * young fellow, with five hundred pounds and good ex- 
 pectations!' ' I beg Sir,' returned me, fcarce able to 
 1'peak, ' that you'll defift, and not make me fo very 
 
 * wretched.' ' Was ever fuch obltinacy known,' cried 
 he again, ' to refufe a man whom the family has luch 
 ' infinite obligations to, who has preferved your filter, 
 ' and who has five hundred pounds ! What, not have 
 him!' ' No, Sir, never,' replied me angrily; I'd 
 fooner die firft. ' If that be the cafe then,' cried he, 
 ' if you will not have him I think I muft have you 
 myfelf. And Ib faying, he caught her to his breaft 
 with ardour. * My lovclieft, my moft lenfiblc of girls,* 
 cried he, ' how could you ever think your own Burchtll 
 
 * could deceive you, or that Sir William Thomhill 
 
 * could ever.ceafe to admire a miftrefs that loved him 
 
 * for himfelf alone ? I have for fome years fought for 
 
 * a woman, who a ftfanger to my fortune, could think 
 
 * that I had merit as a man. After having tried in 
 
 * vain, even among the pm and the ugly, how great 
 ' at lail muft be my rapture, to have made a conqueft 
 ' over fuch fenfe and fuch heavenly beauty !' Then, 
 ' turning to Jenkinfon, * As I cannot, Sir, part with 
 ' this young lady myfclf, for (he has taken a fancy to 
 ' the cut of my face, all the recompence I can make is 
 
 * to give you her fortune, and you may call upon my 
 ' Reward to-morrow for five hundred pounds.' Thus 
 we had all our compliments to repeat, and Lady Thorn- 
 hill underwent the lame round of ceremony that her 
 filter had done before. In the mean time Sir William's 
 gentleman appeared to tell us that the equipages were 
 ready to carry us to the inn, where every thim 
 prepared for our reception. My wife arid I led the 
 van, and left tho& gloomy manfions oi" lotrow. Ti e 
 generous baronet ordered forty poim.is to he diftributed 
 among the prifoners, and Mr. Wilmot, induced by his 
 example, gave half that fum. We were received below 
 by the fliouts of tiic villagers, and I law and ihook by 
 the hand two or three of my honeit parifhioners, who 
 wuc among the number. They atttmied us to our inn, 
 
 83 v.
 
 *io VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 Dvhere a fumptuous entertainment was provkled, and 
 coarfer proviiions diftributed in great quantities amono- 
 the populace. 
 
 After flipper, as my fpirits were exhaufed by the al- 
 teration of pleafure and pain whicli they had fuftained 
 ijir.-'mg the day, I alked permiffion to withdraw, and 
 leaving the company in the midft of their mirth, as 
 loon as I found myfelf alone, I poured out my heart in 
 gratitude to the Giver of joy as well as foirow, and tl^n 
 flept undifturbed till morning. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The Condufion. 
 
 'pHE next morning as foon as I awaked, I found my 
 eldeft ion fitting at my bedfide, who came to incieafe 
 my joy with another turn of fortune in my favour. 
 Firft having released me from the fettlement that I had 
 made the clay before in his favour, he let me know that 
 my merchant who had failed in town was arrefled at 
 Antwerp, and there had given up effeas to a much 
 greater amount than what was due to his creditors 
 My boy's generofity.pleafed me almoft as much as this 
 unlocked for good fortune. But I had feme doubfs 
 whether I ought in juftice to accept his offer. While 
 I was pondering upon this, Sir William entered the 
 room, to whom I communicated my doubts. His opi- 
 nion was', that as my Ion was already poflelTed of a very 
 affluent fortune by his marriage, I might acccept his 
 offer without any hefitation. His bunnefs, however, 
 was to miorm me, that as he had the night before fent 
 for the licenf'es, snd expefted them every "hour, he hoped 
 tiiat I would riot refufe my afliftance in making all the 
 company happy that morning. A footman entered 
 while we were fpeaking, to tell us that the meflenp-er 
 was returned; and us I was by this time ready, I went 
 down, where I found all the company as merry as afflu- 
 ence and innocence could make them. However, a 
 
 they
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. *ir 
 
 they were now preparing for a veiy Iblemn ceremony, 
 their laughter entirely difpleafed me. I told them of 
 the grave, becoming, and iublime deportment, they 
 fliould aflume upon this myftical occafion, and read 
 them two homilies and a thefts of my own compofing, 
 in order to prepare them. Yet they ftill feemed per- 
 fectly refractory and ungovernable. Even as we were 
 going along to church, to which I led the way all gra- 
 vity had quite forlaken them, and I was often tempted 
 to turn back in indignation. In church a new dilem- 
 ma aroie, which promifed no eafy folution. This was, 
 which couple mould be married firft ; my fon's bride 
 warmly infilled, that Lady Thomhill (that was to be) 
 mould take the lead ; but this the other refufed with 
 equal ardour, protefting me would not be guilty of fuch 
 nid^nefs for the world. The argument was lupported 
 for fume time between both with equal obftinacy, and 
 good breeding. But as I flood all this time with my 
 book ready, I was at laft quite tired of the conteft, and 
 (hutting it, ' I perceive,' cried I, ' that none of you 
 
 * have a mind to be married, and I think we had as 
 
 * good go back again ; for I fuppofe there will be no 
 bufmefs done here to-day.' This at once reduced them 
 to reaibn. The baronet and his lady were firft married, 
 and. then my fon and his lovely partner. 
 
 I had previoufly that morning given orders that a 
 coach mould be lent for my honeft neighbour Flambo- 
 rough ar,<l his family, by which means, upon our re- 
 turn to the inn, we had the pleafure of finding the two 
 Mifs Flamborough's alighted before us. Mr. Jenkin- 
 fon gave his hand to the eldeft, and my fon Mofes led 
 up tne other ; (and I huve fince found that he has taken 
 a real liking to the girl, and my confent and bounty he 
 (hall have whenever he thinks proper to demand them.) 
 We weiie no fooner returned to the inn, but numbers 
 of my p.uifliioners, hearing of myfuccefs, came to con- 
 gratulate me, but among the reft were thofe who role 
 to rcfcue me, and whom I formerly rebuked with fuch 
 Iharpneii. I told the itory to Sir William, ray fon-in-
 
 4i VICAR OF WAKEFIELO. 
 
 law, who went out and reproved them with great fcve- 
 nty; but finding them quite difhearrened by this J^r/li 
 reproof, he gave them half a guinea a-piece to drink his 
 health and raife their dejefted fpirits. 
 
 Soon after this we were called to a very -enteel enter 
 tamnient^vhichwasdreftbyMr.Thorrrfiiirscook.Andit 
 my not be improper to cblerve, withrefpeft tothato-en- 
 tleman,thathenow refides in quality of companion It a 
 relation's houfe, being very well liked, and feldom h'ttincr at 
 the fide-table, except when there is no room at the other 
 they make no ftranger of him. His time is pretty 
 much taken up in keeping his relation, who is a little 
 elancholy, m fpirits, and in learning to blow the French 
 horn. My eldeft daughter, however, ftill remembers 
 hfln w.th regret ; and me has even told me, though I 
 maxe a gre<at iecret of it, that when he reforms me may 
 be brought to relent. But to return, for I am not apt 
 digrelsthus ; when we were to fit down to dinner, our 
 ceremon.es were going to be renewed. The qucftion 
 was, whether my eldeft daughter, as being a matron, 
 Id not iit above the two young brides : 'but the de- 
 bate was ci;t<hort by my foil George, who propofed that 
 accompany mould let indiicriminately, every jrentlcman 
 by his lady. Tins was received with great approbation 
 b ya jl > excepting m y wfe, who I could perceive was not 
 perfectly ratified, as me expefted to have had the plea- 
 lure of iitrmg at the head of the table and carving all 
 the meat for all the company. But notwithfLnding 
 MIS, it is impoflible to delbribe our good-humour. I 
 can t lay whether xw haJ ir.jrewit amongftus now than 
 al ; but I am certain we had more laughino-, which 
 anfwered the end as well. One jeft I particularlv reman* 
 er ; old Mr. Wilmot drinking- to Mofes, whofc head 
 was turned another way, my ion replied, < Madam, I 
 lank you.' Upcnv which the old gentleman, winkino- 
 tipon the reft of die company, obierved that he was 
 hmkmg of his miftrels. At which jeft I thought the 
 two Mils Flamborouglrs would have died with laud- 
 ing. As loon as dinner was over, according to my old 
 
 cuftom,,
 
 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 113 
 
 cuftom, I requefted that the table might be taken awiy, 
 to have the pleniiire of feeing all my family aiTemhkd 
 once more by a chearful fire-fide. My two little ones 
 fat upon each kntr, the reft of the company by their 
 partners. I had nothing now on this fide of the grave to 
 wifh for, all my cares were over, mypleafure was un- 
 unlpeakable. It now only remained, that my gratitude 
 in goal fortune mould exceed my former fubmiflion in 
 advtrfity. 
 
 LXD OF THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD,
 
 cooKE'g POCKET EniTToy OF SELECT Ni
 
 Z A D I G : 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 BOOK OF FATE, 
 
 AN ORIENTAL HISTORY, 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 
 
 M. DE VOLTAIRE. 
 
 Qu? fata trjbunt. rttrabuntjne fejujmurt 
 Per varioi cafas, per tit difcrimina rtrum t 
 imui in Latlum. VIK.C. 
 
 E M S F. L L I S H f. D V.' I T H I N O R A V I H G S . 
 
 Vriated for C. COOKK, No. 17, rrernr*er-Row, 
 And I'oM by ,-i IB 
 
 Great Britiin ind 
 trltixt.
 
 EPISTLE DEDICATORY 
 
 TO THE 
 
 SULTANA SHERAA. 
 
 TH EIGHTEENTH OF THK MONTH SCHEVAL, IN THE 
 YEAR OF THE HECIRA 837. 
 
 DELIGHT of every eye, torment of every 
 heart, divine Jight or the mind! I kils not the 
 dull of thy feet, becauie thou lei lorn walked, and when 
 thou doft, it is only on the carpets of Iran, or with 
 thy way llrewed with rofes. You are here prefented 
 with the translation of a book wrote by an ancient fage, 
 who enjoying the happinels of having nothing to do, 
 thought proper to amule himfelf with writing the hif- 
 tory of Zadig; a performance which, I may venture to 
 allure you, expreSTes much more than it feems to exprefs. 
 And I beg you will indulge me fo far, as to read it 
 over, and then pafs your impartial judgment upon it* 
 for although you are in the bloom of life ; though eveiy 
 pleafure courts you ; though you are the darling of 
 nature ; poflefs internal accomplishments adequate to 
 your beauty ; though you arc pnil'ed throughout the 
 world from the night till the morning, and confequent- 
 ly have a right to divert yourfelf of common fenle ; yet 
 you have, notwithstanding, a mind filled with wifdom, 
 and an imagination uncommonly delicate. I have fre- 
 quently heard you difcourfe more learnedly than the 
 wifeft dervife, with his venerable beard and pointed 
 bonnet. You are difcreet without being diftruSlruI ; 
 mild and gentle withhout weaknefs ; and beneficent 
 with difcernment : you love your friends, and do not 
 make yourfelf any enemies. The fprightly Tallies of 
 your wit never borrow any luftre from detraction ; 
 you never Ipeak or do ill, notwithstanding the prodi- 
 gious tale with which you could do both. In Short, 
 A*
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 i 
 
 , T ient 
 
 was trar- V^iaftanc! ; from whence it 
 
 Sultan Oulot "ee ^"^ t0 sm f ^he cdebrated 
 
 they are in fte ' S" u*- m them ' tht " more 
 
 - the, SSSltS ?' ^ f* it, the great . 
 
 happ,neli
 
 APPROBATION. 
 
 1 THE underwritten, who have obtained 
 the reputation of learning, and even that of 
 being a man of wit, have read this manufcripr, 
 which I find, to my great mortification, is 
 curious, amufing, moral, philofonhical, and 
 well worth read.ng, even by thofe who diflike 
 romances : I have therefore thought proper 
 to depreciate it, and have accordingly allured 
 the CADI-LESQUIRE, that it is a moft de- 
 teftable performance. 
 
 * * *
 
 ZADIG: 
 
 O R T H E 
 
 BOOK OF FATE. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 The Blind of one Eye. 
 
 lived at Babylon, in the reign of Kin* 
 JL Moabdar, a man named Zadig. He was endowed 
 by nature with an uncommon genius ; and his parents, 
 who were perfons of rank, took care to cultivate it with 
 an excellent education. Though rich and young, he 
 knew how to moderate his paflions ; he had nothing in 
 him affected; he difdained the oftentation of wipom, 
 and knew how to pity the weakneHes of his fallow- 
 creatures. Every one was furprized to fin<l, that 
 though he had fuch a fxmd of wit, he never expoicd, by 
 his raillery, thofe impertinent and feditious di couries, 
 thofe ram flandcrs, thoil- icrr.orcnt dicif-ons. tho:e rude 
 ]efts, and that vain found of words, which, in Babyl n, 
 went by the name of polite convt. nation. He had 
 learned, in the firft hook of Znroafttr. that ftlf-h v. i.-. a 
 bladder fwelled with wiivl, from whence tempt !':> pro- 
 ceed whenever it is pierced. In particulrr, In. 
 boafted of his conquers among the h of his 
 
 bringing them into lub'eftion. He wns too eencrcus 
 to be afraid of conferring obi pat ions on th-uruTrueful, 
 following this great precept of Zcroafter WT:cn t!-oit 
 (fUefl, give to "the dogs, tbougb tkej Jbould growl at
 
 2ADIG. 
 
 tbce. ^ He was as wife as it was poflible ; for he fou<rht 
 not tae company of any but fuch as were famous Tor 
 their wiidom. He was acquainted with the iciences 
 * the ancient Chaldeans ; was not ignorant of liich 
 p.yiical principles of nature as were then difcovered : 
 and knew as much of metapnyficjjcs as has ever yet 
 been known; that is to fay, little or nothing of the 
 matter. He was firmly perfuaded, in f.jite of the 
 Ph-ljfophy pf his time, that the year confuted of three 
 hundred and iixJy-five days and an hair', and that the 
 tun was fituaced in die cur.iv of the earth : but when 
 the chief magi told him, with an infuhing hau^hti- 
 IK-I.S, that he entertained heretics! fentiments, and was 
 n enemy to the date, for believing that the fun turned 
 about it's own axis, and that the year conlifted of 
 reive months, he was wife enough to avoid the 
 appearance of anger or contempt. 
 
 As Zadig poffcffed great riches, and had ccnft- 
 ouernly many iriends ; and as he had alib an excellent 
 conimution, an amiable figure, a mind juft and mo- 
 derate, and a heart fincere and noble ; he imagined that 
 he rrrght be- happy. He therefore determined to marry 
 a gay young Ldy, named Semira, whole besury, birth, 
 and fortune, rcndertd her the molt defiratk pcribn in 
 Babylon. He had a folid and virtuous afFeftion for 
 this lajy, and flie loved him with the moft paffionate 
 ttndtrnefs. A fhort time before thdr intended union, 
 as tl;ey were walking together near one of the gates of 
 Babylon, under a row of palm-trees on the banks of 
 the Euphrates, they faw a band of men* armed with 
 fcbr ;, hows p.iKi arrows, approaching towards them. 
 Thefe were the attendants of young Orcan, nephew to 
 a nanifter of ftate, \vhom the concubines of his uncle 
 h:,d perfuaded might commit, with impunity, whatever 
 ciimes he pleaicd. Although he had -none of the in- 
 ternal accomplishments of Zadig, yet he imagined him- 
 : to be greatly his fuperior, and was therefore en- 
 .tt not being preferred before him. This jea- 
 Joujy, wliich arofc merely from his vanity, induced him
 
 2ADIG. 9 
 
 to believe that he loved Semira to diffraction; find 
 with which notion, he determined to carry her away by 
 force. The ruffians rudely feized her j and, in the 
 heat of the encounter, drew the blood of a beauty, the 
 light of whofe charms would have moved to pity even 
 the tygers of Mount Emaus. The injured lady pierced 
 the heavens with her cries ; exclaiming * O my 
 ' hufband ! my dear hufband! They force me from 
 
 * the arms of him whom alone I adore ! ' She regard- 
 ed not her own danger ; her thoughts were wholly en- 
 grafted by her fears for her clearly beloved Zadig. In 
 the mean time, he defended htmll-lf with all the ftrength 
 and resolution which love and valour uiually inipire. 
 Afiifted only by two (laves, he put the villains to flight, 
 and carried home Semira, ii.nii.-K.-fs and bloody as ./lie 
 was. The moment me came to htrlilt", ihe fixed her 
 lovely eyrs on her deliverer. ' O Zadig! ' faid ihe, 
 ' I not only love thee as my hufbar.d, but as him to 
 ' whom I owe my life ; and what to me is far i : 
 
 * the preservation of my honour.' Never was a heart 
 more er.tfamcd than Semira's ; never did fuch ravimingr 
 lips exprefs Icnttments fo kind and tender : her words 
 v.\ r.- of fire ; they were inlpired by gratitude for the 
 t^reate it 01" all benefits, ami the warmolt trani'pcrts of a 
 hwiul aifcclion. Her we. ' i- ;t > : - r - ( - wirre 
 quickly her.le-.i. Zati'i;; was wounded in a more danger- 
 ous manner j he was itruck by an arrow near his left- 
 eye. Semira inceflantly addrcfied thtf gods fcr the 
 cure of her lover; her cheeks were night and day bath- 
 ed in tears ; and me waited with impatience for the 
 happy moment when the eyes of Zac.ig mould beheld 
 her anxiety! But, alas! the wounded eye became fo 
 fuelled and enfLmed, that his friends wtre in the 
 greatett concern for his fight. They fent even fo 
 Memphis, for the great phyfician Hennes, who imme- 
 diately attended his patient with a numerous retinue. 
 On his firft vifit, he declared that Zadig would ' 
 
 eye, and predicted the day and hour when this fatal 
 event would happen. It it had been the right -eye,'
 
 TO 2ADIG. 
 
 faid he, ' I could have healed it ; but the wounds of 
 the left are incurable.' All Babylon, while they 
 lamented the deiHny of Zadig, admired the wifdom of 
 Hermes. Two days after, the abfcefs buril of itfclf ; 
 and Zadig, in a moit time, was perfectly recovered. 
 Hermes then wrote a veiy elaborate treatife, to prove 
 that he ought not to have been cured : which Zadig, 
 however, did not think worth his perufal j but, as foon 
 as he could go abroad, prepared to vifit her on whom 
 he founded his hopes of happinefs, and for whofe fake 
 alone he had wifhed the reftoration of his fight. 
 Semira, he found, had been three days in the country j 
 and he was at the fame time informed, that as this 
 beautiful creature had publickly declared an infuperabie 
 ava-fion to one-eyed men, me was that very night to be 
 wedded to Orcan. At this unexpected ill news, poor 
 Zadig fell fenfelefs on the earth ; and was fo greatly 
 affected with his difappointment, that it threw him 
 into a violent illnefs, which lafted fome months. At 
 length reafon prevailed over his affliction, and the re- 
 flection of the guilt he had experienced in her, ferved 
 to give him coniblation. 
 
 ' Since I have fuffered,' faid he, c the effects of fuch 
 * cruel caprice, from a woman educated at court, I 
 ' will now wed the daughter of ibmefubftantial citizen.' 
 Accordingly, he made choice of Azora, a young lady 
 of genteel education, an excellent ceconomilt, and de- 
 icenaed from parents the moft refpectable. Shortly 
 after, they were married, and lived for a whole month 
 in all the delights of the moft tender union. But he 
 foon began to perceive that Azora pofleifed fome fmall 
 degree of levity, and had a ftror.g propenfity to believe 
 lhat thofe young men who had the moll agreeable per- 
 fons, were always the molt virtuous and witty.
 
 ZADIC. jt 
 
 CHAP. ir. 
 
 rbe Noff. 
 
 AZ O R A hid been one day walking:, when me 
 retiirtK-l filled wit'.-.. uttering loud - ( 
 
 clainations. c Why, O my dear wife '. are you affliiSl- 
 ' id? 1 fuid he. ' Who has been able thus to difturb 
 ' you ?' ' Alas!' (aid me, * you would have been 
 ' t-qually enraged, had you feen what I havejuftbe- 
 
 * hold. I have been to comfort the young widow 
 ' Cofrou, who has been theft two days er&ing a mo- 
 ' nument to the memory of her deceafed hufband, near 
 ' the ri valet which runs by the fide of th 
 
 ' In the height of her grief, {he made a folemn vow to 
 
 * ftay at his tomb as long as the rivulet kept it's 
 ' courfe.' ' Well,' laid Zadi~, ' this woinan is 
 
 * worthy of eftcem ; me loved her hufband with perfect 
 ' fmcerity." ' Ah !' replied Azcra, ' did you know 
 ' how me was employed, when I went to vifit htr, 
 ' you would not fay fo.' ' How was it, lovely 
 ' Azora ?' laid he ; ' was me turning the Itream of 
 ' the rivulet ?* Azora anfwered by long invcs.' 1 
 
 and uttered fuch bitter reproaches againlt the young 
 widow, that Zadig was dilgufted at her oftentation of 
 virtue. 
 
 Zadig had an Intimate friend named Cador, whofe 
 wife was perfectly virtuous and aftually prefirrred her 
 hu(band to all the world befides : this iriend Zadig 
 made his confident, and fecured his fidelity by a con- 
 fiderable prefent. 
 
 Azora had been two days in the country, vifiting 
 one of her friends : at her return home, on ihe third, me 
 was informed by her dornetticks, who were all in ; . , 
 that Zadig died fuddenly the night before ; that they 
 had not dared to cany her this fatal news ; and that 
 they had juft buried him in the t-.mib of his fathers, at 
 the end of the garden. She burlt into a flood of te:ir, 
 tore her hair, and vowed that Ihe would immediately
 
 14 ZADIG. 
 
 follow him. In the evening Cador came, and begged td 
 be permitted to condole with her ; and they both joined 
 their lamentations. The next day they wept lefs, and 
 dined together; when Cador infomed her, that Zadisj 
 had left him the greatest part of his wealth, and gave 
 her to underftand, that his happinefs depended on her 
 maring his fortune. The lady again burlt into tcaroi ; 
 grew angry; and became reconciled. They fat louger 
 at fupper than they had done at dinner, and talked to- 
 gether with greater confidence. Azora was lavilh in 
 her encomiums on the deceafed; but at the fame time 
 obi'erved, that he had faults from which Cador was 
 exempt. In the midlt of their entertainment, Cador 
 fuddenly complained of a violent pain in his fide. 
 The lady, affliled, and eager to ferve him, ordered the 
 eflences of flowers and drugs to be brought; and with 
 thefe me anointed him, to try if any of them would 
 affuage his anguifh : me was much concerned that the 
 great Hermes was not itill in Babylon, and condefcend- 
 ed to lay her warm hand on the part affected. ' Are 
 
 * you fubjeiSt to this tormenting malady ?' laid (he, in 
 a loft compaffionate tone. ' Sometimes,' faid Cador, 
 ' I am fo violently affected with it, that it brings me 
 ' to the very brink of the grave : nor is there but a 
 
 * iingle remedy which can give me eafe, and tlr.it is, to 
 ' apply to my fide the nofe of a man lately dead.' 
 ' This is a it range remedy T faid Azora. ' Not 
 
 * more ftrange,' replied he, ' than the fatchels of 
 
 * the great Arnou* againft the apoplexy.' 
 
 This reafon, added to the perlbn and merit of the 
 young man, at laft determined her in his favour. 
 
 * After all,' faid me, when my huiband palTes the 
 ' bridge Tchimavar, the angel Afrail will not Itop 
 ' his paflage, though his noie be fomewhat Ihorter in 
 
 * There was at this time in Babylon, a famous doc- 
 tor, named Arnou, who (in the Gazettes) cured apo- 
 pleftick fits, and prevented them from affecting his pa- 
 tients, by hanging a little bag about their necks.
 
 ZADIG. 13 
 
 * the next life than it was in tliis.' She then took a 
 razor, went to the tomb of bur hufband, bedewed it 
 with her tears, and approached to cut off his noil-, as 
 h- by extended in his corlm. ZaJig mounted in a 
 moment, holding his nofe with one hand, and putting 
 back the inurnment with the oth.-r. ' Azor.i,' jiiid 
 he, ' do not Ib loudly exclaim againft the widow 
 Cofrou; the project of cutting off my nole is <.qual 
 ' to that of turning a rivulet.' 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 The Dog and the Horfe. 
 
 ZADIG found by experience, that the firft month 
 of marriage, as it is written in the book of Zind, 
 is the moon of hoa:y ; but that the fjcond is the moon 
 of wormwood. In fliort, he was fome time after, obliged 
 to repudiate Azora, who became too hard to be p: 
 and feet for happinefs in the ftudy of nature. ' None,*' 
 faid he, ' cnn enjoy greater felicity than the philoi' 
 who judicioufly perufes that ipacious book which 
 God has placed before his eyes. The truths he dil- 
 covers become uieful to himli.lt: he nourilhes aiv'. 
 alts hi* foul ; lives in tranquillity 5 fears nothing fn;in 
 men; and h.is no tender fpoufe to cut off his nofe.' 
 Filled \vl:h thfie ideas, to a houie in the 
 
 countiy, that flood on the banks of the Euphrates. 
 He did not there employ li'ir.illf in calci/ 
 n-.any drops of water Mow in a Kcond of time under 
 the nrciies of a bridge ; or if th^r.- tell a cube-line of 
 rain in the month of the Moui'c, more than in die 
 iin n'li of tlu* Shtt-p. He formed no projects for 
 making ("ilk gloves and (locking;; with the webs of 
 : ;, nor china-w. r_- .-i.t of broken ghfs be. 
 
 but he chiefly ftudicd the properties of an'.mnls and 
 plants ; and was veiy foon, by his (trie: and r ' 
 enquiries, enabled to difcover a thoufand variations in 
 vi;':hlc ob'cfts, tlut ethers, Ids curious, iaiagir. 
 B
 
 14 2ADIG. 
 
 As he was one day walking by the fide of a thicket, 
 he faw one of the queen's eunuchs approaching towards 
 him, followed by many officers, who appeared xmder 
 the greateil perplexity, running here and there like 
 peribns almoit diftrafted, and feeking with impatience 
 ibmething extremely precious. ' Young man,' faid the 
 firft eunuch, * have you feen the queen's dog ?' Zadig 
 coolly replied, ' You mean, I prefume, her bitch ?* 
 ' You are in the right, fir !' returned the eunuch ; 
 ' it is a fpaniel-bitch, indeed!' ' And very fmall,* 
 laid Zadig. ' She has l?.tely whelped, /lie limps on 
 4 the lett-toot before, and has veiy long ears.' ' You 
 
 * have then feen her ?' faid the eunuch, quite out of 
 breath. ' No,' anfwered Zadig, ' I have never feen 
 
 * her ; nor do I know, but by you, that the queen had 
 
 * inch a bitch.' 
 
 Juft at this time, by one of the ordinary caprices of 
 fortune, the fineft horfe in the king's ftables had cf- 
 caped from the groom, and got upon the plains of 
 Babylon. The principal huntfman, and all the in- 
 ferior officers, rail after him with as much concern as 
 the firft eunuch after the bitch. The principal huntf- 
 man addreffed himfelf to Zadig, and afked, if he had 
 not fee the king's horfe run by. ' No horfe,' replied 
 Zadig, is a better runner; he is five feet high ; his 
 ' hoofs are very fmall ; his tail is about three feet and 
 ' a half long; the ftuds of his bit are of pvire gold, 
 ' about twenty-three carats ; and his fhoes are filver.* 
 ' Which way did he run? where is he?' demanded 
 the huntfman. ' I have never feen him,' replied 
 Zadig ; ' nor did I till now ever hear that the king 
 
 * had fuch a horfe.' 
 
 The principal huntfman and the firft eunuch, not 
 doubting but that Zadig had Hole the king's horfe and 
 the queen's bitch, immediately caufed him to be con- 
 dueled before the grand delkrham, who condemned him 
 to the knout, mid to be confined for life in fome lonely 
 and remote part of Siberia. Scarce was the fentence 
 paifed, when the horfe and bitch were found. The
 
 2ADIC. tj 
 
 Judges were theH under the difagreeable neceflity of 
 reverfing their decifion; but t'l.y condemned tan to 
 pay four hundred ounces of gtiu, K;r iiaving I'.IL.I that 
 hi- had not fcen what he had icen. This fine he wa* 
 obliged to depofit in court : alter w'.i'.ch he was aiiovr- 
 ed to plea.t his caufo before the counc.l ot tiie grand 
 defterham ; when he fpoke in thuc t.-nns 
 
 ' Ye bright ftars of juftice, profound abyfs of fci- 
 
 * euces, mirrors of truth: wiio have in you the weight 
 of lead, the i rifle xib. Key of il_cl, the luitre of the 
 
 * diamond, and tie relimblance of the pure.t gold ! 
 
 * fince I am permitted to fpeak before this auguit af- 
 
 * fembly, I Iwcar by Oroimades, that I have never 
 
 * feen the queen's illuftrious dcg, nor the facred horfe 
 ' of the king of kings. I will, however, be iugena- 
 ' ous enough to declare the truth, and nothing but the 
 
 * truth. As I was walking by the fide of the thicket, 
 
 * where I afterwards met the venerable eunuch, and the 
 ' rao(t Uluftrious huntfman, I law on the fand the traces 
 
 * of an animal, and ennly judged they were thole of a 
 
 * litti; dog. The light and long furrows imprefTed on 
 ' l"nall eminences ot fand, between the marks ot the 
 
 * pa\*s, made me know that it was a bitch, whofe dugs 
 ' were hanging down, and that me had therefore late- 
 4 ly whelped. As I oblerved, likewife, other traces of 
 
 * a different kind, which feemed "o have grazed the 
 ' furface of the fand, on the fides -,/the marks of the 
 
 * fore feet, I ealily judged that me had very long 
 
 * ears. And as I remarked, that there was a fainter 
 ' impreflion made on the land by one foot than by the 
 ' three others, I concluded that the bitch of our augud 
 
 * queen was, if I may be permitted io to fay, a little 
 
 * lame. 
 
 ' With refpecl to the horfe of the king of kings, 
 ' give me leave to inform you, that as I was walking 
 ' down the lane by the thicket-fide, I took particular 
 ' notice of the prints made upon the fand by a horlc'a 
 
 * ibocs, and found they were all at equal dillance* j 
 
 B z
 
 l6 ZADIG. 
 
 from which obfervation, I concluded the horfe gal- 
 loped well. The dull on the trees, "in u Ilniio-ht 
 road, feven feet wide, was hnilhed off a little both on 
 the right and the left, at three feet and a h?lf i'roin 
 the middle of the road. This horfe, faid I, has 
 a tail three feet and a half long, which, by it's being 
 whiiked to the right and the left, fwept away the 
 duft. Again, I perceived under the trees, which 
 formed a kind of arbour five feet high, tha^he 
 leaves were newly fallen, and was i'enfible the nWife 
 mutt have (hook them off ; I therefore judged him to 
 be fomewhat more than five feet high. As to the 
 bits of his bridle, I knew they muil be of gold of 
 twenty-three carats, for he nibbed the (tuds again! 
 a certain ftone which I knew to be a touch- (tone, 
 and which I have tried. To conclude, I have judg- 
 ed, by the marks which his llioes left on flints of a 
 different kind, that he was mod with filver.' 
 All the judges were artonimed at the profound and 
 fubtle difcernment of Zadig. The news reached even 
 the king 'and queen. Nothing was fpoke of but 
 Zadig, in the anti-chambers, in the chambers, and in 
 the cabinet : and though many of the mngi were of 
 opinion he ought to be burnt as a forcerer, the king 
 ordered that the fcur hundred ounces of gold he had 
 been obliged to pay, fhould be restored to him again. 
 The rtgilter and other officers then went to his houfe 
 with great formality, to cany him his four hundred, 
 ounces : they kept back or.ly three hundred, fouricort, 
 and eighteen, for tiie expences of jultice j and their 
 lervants demanded their tees. 
 
 Zadig law how dangerous it fometimes is to apperr 
 too wile ; and he firmly relblved, in future, to let a 
 watcli before the door of his lips. 
 
 An opportunity loon offered for the trial of his re- 
 
 folution. A prikmer of Itate having made his ticape, 
 
 . under his window. Zaclig was examined, but 
 
 ;MU'.C- no anfwiT ; lu'-wevei, as it was prc'vi-d that he 
 
 bail looked at hi) a fmu his window, he was conuenui-
 
 CADK3. 19 
 
 flip chariots which approached the door of Zadig ; but 
 vvai llill more aggravated by the found of his ps:. 
 'He ibnietirnes intruded himklf Ib t;ir as to fit uown at 
 Zadi^'j Mble without any invitation, and when there 
 he cimitantly intermpted the mirth ot the company, as 
 barpics are laid to corrupt all the proviGons they 
 touch. 
 
 Arimazes one day intended to give an entertainment 
 to a young lady ; but inftead of accepting it, flic went 
 to^up at Zadig's. Another time, as Zadig and he 
 were converfmg together in the palace, a minifter of 
 ffote came up, and invited Zadig to fupper, but took 
 no notice of Arimares. The moft impl icable hatred 
 has feldom a more folid foundation!. This perfon, 
 w'io in Babylon was called the Envious Man, refolve4 
 to ruin Zadrg, becaulr he was ufually diftinguilhed by 
 the appellation of the Happy Man. An opportunity 
 of doing mifchief is found an hundred times in a day, 
 but that of doing good only once in a year ; as fays the 
 wifi- Zoroj 
 
 Arimazes went one day to fee Zadig, who was 
 walking in his garden with two friends and a lady, to 
 whom he f.iid abundance of fine things, without any 
 other intention than the innocent pleai'ure of fiying 
 them. The converfation turned on a war the king 
 had juft happily concluded again ;t the prince of Hir- 
 cania his vaihl. Zadig, who had GgtuUzed his cou- 
 rage in this fliort ftruggle, beftowed gr^-at praifes on the 
 king, but w.as ftill mere lavilh in his compliments to 
 the ladv; and taking out his nocket-boov, iu.hmtly 
 wi'ote tour lines, which he -ive her to look at. His 
 friendi th^n begged to fee them ; hut mcxic'.ly, or ra- 
 ther a jult degrtp of felt-love, piwertted him ; fur he 
 knrw tli3.t extempore vcn'es are ieldom good, except in 
 the opinion cf thofe in honcur of wh.. writ- 
 
 ten. He therefore broke in two th- j uMei on which 
 he h3.l been %\Titip.g, and threw botli pieces into a 
 thicket <,: io/cs, w'.icre his fr'unds fought lor them in 
 aiii. A i':.u.i ra:n falling preicntiy ai'ur, a^l ibc
 
 20 2AD1G. 
 
 company, except Arimazes, returned to the lioufe. 
 He, however, continued in the garden, and Sought till 
 he found a piece of the tablet. It had been umoitu- 
 nately torn in fuch a manner, that each half of a line 
 formed a compleat fenie, and even a verle in a ve;y 
 ,ft Tt meaiure ; and by a chance ftill more ftrar.ge, the 
 lines were found to contain moft injurious reproaches 
 the king. They ran thus 
 
 By crimes of blacktft dye> 
 He's of the throne polTdi'd, 
 To peace and liberty, 
 The enemy proic.&'d. 
 
 Ariirmes was now happy, for the firft time in his 
 life; lince he Had in his hands the means of destroying 
 one who w:is worthy and virtuous. Filled with a 
 cruel joy, he produced the broken tablet, which con- 
 tained this virulent fat ire, before the king ; who order 
 ed Zadig to be impriibned, together with the lady and 
 his two friends. His trial was foon over, without his 
 being ivffered to fpeak for himi'elf. When he came t<4 
 receive his ieiUtnce, the envious man threw hirnfeli in 
 his way, and told him aloud, that his verics were o:' 
 no value. Zadig was but little diipienjed at being 
 thought a bad poet, but he could not bear the reflection 
 of being condemned for high tre.rln, ard conisdering 
 that a beautiful lady, and two of his rriends, were de- 
 tained in prifbn for a crime of which they wtre eir.ire'y 
 innocent. He was not permitted to Iptak, bjcaule 
 his writing Ipoke : fuch were the laws cf B^by- 
 l^n. 'I hey obliged him therefore to go to punifhment 
 through a crowd cf fpeclators, brought together by 
 their curioiity, none of whom durft appear to p'.ty him : 
 they threw themfclvts before him to examine his coun- 
 tenance, and to fee if he afted with a becoming forti- 
 tude. His relations were, indeed, the only real mourn- 
 ers j for they could net inherit his eitate. Three
 
 ZAD1G. 17 
 
 -ed to pay five hundred ounces cf gold for t 
 and, according to the cuftcm of Babylon, thank the 
 judges for their indulgence. ' Good God !' laid he 
 to himitif, ' what a misfortune is t is to wallc near a 
 
 * wood through which the quean's dog and tlu- kind's 
 ' ho. fe h.ivc galled ! how dangerous is it to look out 
 
 of a window ! and, in a word, how difficult for a man 
 ' to be tuily huppy in this life 1' 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The envious Man. 
 
 AS Zadig hid met with fuch a furies of misfor- 
 tunes, he reiblved to comfort hirnklr hv the itu- 
 dy of phiiofophy, and the converiation ofltlcft friends. 
 He k-d in the fuburbs of Babylon a li'uu'e adoiTcd 
 with much taste, where he affetnbled all the arts and nil 
 the pkaiun-s worthy the attention of a good man. In 
 the morning his library was open to the learned ; in the 
 .evening, his table was farrounded by good con:. 
 but he foon found the danger there is in crmerfmg 
 with the fens of fcisnce. 'I here arcfe a great d 
 on cct- of the laws of Zoroafter, which ftrbids t 1 . 
 ing of griffins. ' How mould he prohibit cui , 
 ' a griMi.V laid one of the company, ' if this animal 
 ' has no ex'.riinu: ?' ' It mult neceiturlyty.iit," laid (hi 
 others, ' iir.ce Zoroafter will not allow it to be tt 
 Zadig ihove to make them agree, by faying ' It', 
 ' iger.tijmen, tb.Lix- ai . Lt us not t,\t them ; if 
 
 ' theie nre IK; ivxh : eannct eat then- . 
 
 ' thu < v 
 A 
 
 ori tbi- p: to :KCU,e 
 
 before (..ne cf the principal n; 
 moil fool (U, an 
 
 deans. ! hi* r;;,n i . ii! ;'!-( 
 
 HOIK i 
 
 rtcltcu t!.'. .. . .- 
 
 ^ 3
 
 iS 7ADIG. 
 
 faction. His friend Cador (a friend of more value 
 
 than a hundred magi) went to oil Yebor, and laid to 
 
 him ' Long live the fun and the griffins ! take care 
 
 of pir.iifliing Zadig, for he is a faint ; he has griffins 
 
 in his inner court, and does not eat them ; and his 
 
 accufer is an hereticlc, who dares to maintain that 
 
 rabbits have cloven feet and are not unclean.'- 
 
 Well,' faid Yebor, making his bald pnte, ' we muft 
 
 impale Zadig for having fpoken dilrefpectrully of 
 
 griffins, and the other for having fpoken conteuip- 
 
 tuouily of rabbits.' Cador, however, put a ftop to 
 
 the affair, by means of a maid of honor, by whom he 
 
 had a child, and who had great credit in the college of 
 
 the: msgi ; fo that nobody was punifhed : whereupon 
 
 many oi the doctors murmured, and preiaged the ruin 
 
 c.f .Babylon. Zadig laid to himielf ' On what does 
 
 * happinefs depend ? I am perfecuted by every thing 
 ' in this world, even on account of beings that have no 
 
 * exiftence.' He curfed the fons of learning, and for 
 the future reiolved to keep none but good company. 
 He now affcmbled at his houfe the moft worthy men in 
 Babylon, and ladies of the greateft beauty j he gave 
 them delicate tappers, frequently preceded by concerts 
 of muiick, and always animated by the moft engaging 
 converiation, in which he carefully avoided the defire 
 of appearing witty ; well knowing that to be a fure 
 method of defeating it's own end, as well as of fpoiling 
 th" moft agreeable company. Neither the choice of his 
 friends, nor that of his provifiona, were the refultof 
 pride or oftentation. He delighted in appearing what 
 he was, and not in ijbeming what hr was not ; by which 
 means he obtained a far more refpeftable character 
 than th t which he actually aimed at. 
 
 Oppci;te to his houl'e dwelt Alimazes, a perfon 
 puffed up with pride ; who having never been able to 
 obtain fo much fuccefs in life as he wiflied for, fought 
 to revenge him'elf by railing againft nil mankind. 
 Although he was rich, he found it difficult to procure 
 . He was greatly provoked at the rattling of
 
 
 TADIfc. 21 
 
 "parts of his fubftnnce v.vre confifcated to the king's 
 life, and tlie oth :: to Arimarcs. 
 
 Juft as Zadi^ v,;is preparing hhrtfelf for death, the 
 king's parrot flew frr m !<.: cage, and alighted on 
 bufli in thf garden cf Za'lig. A peach had been ^ 
 thithfr by the wind from a r.eig't. .1 was 
 
 fallen en a piece of the tablet, to which it fh:ck; 
 the bird carried it av. en the tnc' 
 
 knee. The king, feized with ci . 
 on the broken tahkt, which formed not any meaning, 
 but appeared to be; of a ver/e. Ht-w.s.i 
 
 great admirer of p . .. i th^re is always fome 
 relief to be expected, wh-n a prince is a friend to the 
 mules: ti ot made him thought- 
 
 ful. The queen, who perteiHy well remembered what 
 had been written on the piece of Zadig's pocket- 
 book, ordered th:-.t part to be brought. Tluy > .:.. m 'n- 
 ed the two pieces together, which perfeflly fitted each 
 other j and then itad the verfe as Zadig had wrote it 
 
 By crimes of blar kcft d vf , I've fcen the earth made hell ; 
 He's of the throne poiT. fs'd, who a!l their pow'r can quell* 
 To peace and liberty, love's now ihc on'.y foe, 
 The enemy profets'ci oi mortals here below. 
 
 Upon this the king ordered Zadig to be inftanfly 
 brought before him, and his two Iritr.c'.s and tiv lady 
 to be immediately reUafed from their confinement. 
 S^adig proftrated himulf v.-!th his face to the earth 
 before the king and queen, and moft humbly Ijejgrd 
 pardon fc;. ic an ill verfe. He {poke, indeed, 
 
 with fuch a becoming gi'ace, and with fo much mo- 
 detly and good fenio, that the king and queen i 
 
 to fee hi.:. . ,':n all the 
 
 of /' hy whom he 
 
 accuicd: b>:t Zadig genercully reftored him br.rk the 
 whole ot . \iiina7f.s, i . -.It no 
 
 othti . m his 
 
 not having loft his fubUance. The king's eitecia tor
 
 az ZADIG. 
 
 Zadig increafed from day to day; he made him fhare 
 in all his pleafures, and confulted him in all his affairs. 
 The queen from that time fhewed him ib much refpeft, 
 and fpoke to him in fuch fof't and endearing terms, 
 that it feeined to threaten much danger to herfelf, her 
 royal confbrt, to Zadig, and to the kingdom. Zadig 
 now began to believe, that the attainment of happinefs 
 was not fo difficult as he has formerly imagined. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 The Force of Generofity. 
 
 THE time now arrived for celebrating a great 
 fcaft, held once in five years. It was a cuitom 
 in Babylon, folemnly to declare, at the end of this pe- 
 riod, which of the citizens had done the moft generous 
 action. 
 
 The grandees and magi always fat as judges on this 
 occafion ; and the firft latrape, who had the care of the 
 city, made known the moft noble aclions that had paff- 
 ed under his government. They proceeded by votes, 
 and the king himielf pronounced the judgment. Per- 
 fons of all ranks and degrees came to this folemnity 
 from the moft remote parts of the kingdom. The 
 luccefsful peribn received from the hands of the mo- 
 narch a gold cup, adorned with precious ftones ; and 
 the king {aid thefe words ' Receive this reward of 
 ' your generality ; and may the gods grant me many 
 * thoufands of luch valuable rubjefts P 
 
 On this memorable day, when the king appeared on 
 his throne, furrounded by his grandees, the magi, and 
 the deputies of all the furrounding nations who came 
 to thefe games, where glory was acquired, not by the 
 Ivvirtnd's of horfes, nor by ftrength and activity of 
 1 xly, but by virtue ; the principal fatrape reported, 
 with a loud voice, fuch noble ac~ts as might leem to 
 < ntitle their authors to this ineftimable reward : but 
 never mentioned the greatnefs of foul with which Za- 
 dig had reftcred to the envious man the poffeflion of
 
 ZADIG. 23 
 
 his fortune ; this was not an action that deserved to 
 difpute the pri/.e. 
 
 He firft presented a judge, who having made a citi- 
 zen lofe a confiderable caule, by a mittake lor which he 
 was no way refponfible, had made reftitution out of his 
 own private fortune. 
 
 He next produced a young man, who being defpe- 
 rately in love with a damfel he was going to in 
 yielded her up to his friend; whole pillion tor her ha. I 
 aJmoll brought him to his grave; and, on parting with 
 the damfel, gave alfo a portion with her. 
 
 He afterward* produced a foldier, who in the wars 
 of Hircania hid runiiflied a ftill greater example of 
 generofity. The enemy had taken from him his 
 miftrels ; but while he was fighting in his defence, he 
 was informed that other Hircanians, at fome p?.cis 
 diltant, were carrying away his mother: he then quit- 
 ted his mittrtis with tears, and ran to deliver his 
 parent. At length he returned to her he Icved, and 
 found her juft expiring: upon which he rclblved to die 
 with her, and was about to plunge a dagger in hi., 
 breait ; but his mother remonftrating, tliat (lie h . 
 other fupport nor protection but him, he had the 
 courage to relblve to live. 
 
 The judges feemed difpofed to declare in favcur of 
 the foldier, when the king (poke thus ' This a'tion, 
 and thole of the others, are truly great ; but they do 
 not fill me with furpriz^. Za.iig ycfterday peifcnn- 
 ed one that has railed my aftonifliment. 1 had for 
 fome days difgraced Corcb, my prime minifL-r and 
 favourite. I complained of his conduct in violent 
 and bitter terms ; when ail my courtiers afturcd me 
 that I was too mild, and loaded him with the moft 
 reproachful invectives. I afked Zadig his opinion 
 of Coreb, and he ihred to give him the ncbkft 
 of characters. I mutl own, that I have fcen in our 
 hiftories, examples of perfons who have paid their 
 own fortunes to atone tor an error; of thole who 
 refigned a n-..;hv. ; and who have prttlruJ a mother
 
 'ttr ZAPIO. 
 
 ' to a woman tenderly beloved ; but never had I read 
 ' of a courtier who has Ipoken favourably of a fallen 
 
 * minilter, the objt:6l of his Ibvereign's anger. I give 
 ' to e.ich of thole, whofe generous aftions have been 
 
 * juft recited, twenty thoui'and pieces of gold, but the 
 ' cup I give to Zaclig.' 
 
 ' O king!' laid Zadig, ' it is your ir.aU-fty alone. 
 ' who ds'l-rves the. cup 5 you alone have acLd in the 
 ' moft noble and uncommon manner ; fince you, who 
 
 * are fo great a king, was not offended at your flave, 
 ' when he oppofcd your palfion.' The whole aflembly 
 gazed with admiration both on the king, and Zadig. 
 
 ::di;e who had genercufiy atoned 'His error, the 
 lover who had reiigned his niiilrels to his friend, the 
 lol.iier \vho had prctlrred the iatety of his mother to 
 that of his mi'ure.s, received the monarch's prefents 
 and faw their names written in the book of generous 
 afUons : Zadig had the cup; and the king acquired 
 the reputation pf a good prince, which he did not long 
 This day was celebrated by {eait. which con- 
 tinued longer than the hw prescribed ; trr-gcuies were 
 Yepreierttd that made the audience burft intc tears, and 
 comedies .that excited laughter, both of which were 
 \v;y unuliir.1 in Babylon; and the memory thereof is 
 ft'.h prelervtd in Alia. ' Now,' laid Zadig, I am 
 ' at IciH'th completely happy.' He was, however, 
 m^lt egregioufiy miftaken. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 The juft Judge. 
 
 Notwithstanding Zadig's ycuth, he was eftabliflied 
 fupreme judge of all the tribunals throughout 
 t'K empire. Ke diicharged this office, as a man whom 
 God hid endued with the ftriiftcft juftice, and the moft 
 iMid wifdom. It v/-.s from him tlie lurrounding na- 
 ; eceived this grand principle, that it is much 
 bertcr to mn the hazard of a ipring the guilty, than 
 be liable to condemn du- iioiioccut ; and it was his firm
 
 TAD1C. 55 
 
 opinion, that the laws were intended to honour tho;e 
 who did well, as much as to be :i terror to the wicktd. 
 His principal talent cor.lilled in discovering truth, 
 which moll men fttrlc to ob.cure. On the fii ft day of 
 his adminiftration he exerted this peculiar talent. A 
 rich merchant of Babylon died in the Indies, \\-\i-) 
 had made his t\vo ions joint heirs, as loon as thcy 
 ihould diijxue of th> ir Hicr in inarm-^e ; and:. 
 over, left a les^cy of thirty thou-and piece-; ot i* 
 that fon whj fhould be proved to have loved him belt.' 
 '] hi- ilddl treated a fuperb monument to h's mtr 
 the fecond increased his fitter's portion, by givir 
 a part of his inheritance. Upon which every body 
 laid, that the eldcit belt loved his father, an 
 youngrft h's lifter ; and that, therefore, the thirty 
 thoufand pieces ought to be given the eldell. 
 
 The c.uLc, c line betre Zadig, who examined 
 apart. To the eldeft he faid ' Your father is not 
 ' yet dt ;d j he is cured of his illn-.'ls, ?.-.d is on hi* 
 ' return to Babylon.' ' God be pr?ifeu!' replied 
 the young man; ' but h'.s tomb cell me a confide r- 
 ' able lum!' Zadig afterwards faid the lame to the 
 youngelt ; who immediately replied ' God bt ; 
 ' ed ! I will go and reftore to my fa; her al! I 
 4 but I hope he v.-ih net inlilt upon what I h vc- </.Y.II 
 ' my fi.'Ur.' ' You lhall rtftore nofh. 
 ' and (hull h:ivc the thirty thoi u are 
 
 ' the man who bijft l(..ve h.s father.' 
 
 A young kciy, who was very rich, had promifed 
 herlllf in n an irge to two magi ; and, am-r !?. ing tor 
 fome months retch ed inltmftioiis from both, di--. 
 ed herftlt to be with child. Each of thcr- 
 ous of marrying h< r. ' I will take him fcr my huf- 
 band,' faid me, who has put me in a condition to 
 give a citizen to my country.' ' It is I, Madam, 
 who have anfwered that valuable end,' 
 It ; - who hwe had this advantage/ find tl< 
 Well,' replied flie, * I will acknowledge fur : 
 iai::" ta:hcr him who can give it the bcft education.* 
 C
 
 26 ZADIG. 
 
 In a flwrt time after, fhe was delivered of a foil. Each 
 of them infixed on being it's tutor ; and the cauft was 
 brought before Zadig. When the rr.agi came K-fore 
 him, he faid to the firft ' What will you teach ^-our 
 
 * pupil?' ' I will teach him,' replied the ('<vtor, 
 
 * the eight parts of fpeech, logick, aftrology. rmu ma- 
 ' gick ; what is meant by fubftance and accident, the 
 ' abftraft and the concrete, &c. &c.' When die le- 
 cond was aflced the fame queftion ( I will Jo inv ut- 
 
 * mcft,' faid he, ' to make him an honeft man, and to 
 ' render him worthy of having many friends." Upon 
 this, Zadig cried ' Whether you are the fath. : <. i 
 
 * not, you ihall marry the mother.' 
 
 Complaints every day reached court againft the iti- 
 madoulet of Media, whofe name was Irax. He w?.s a 
 perfon of great rank and fortune, and naturally v 
 tfl a good difpofiticn ; but hid corrupted his mind, :-.nd 
 Iquandered away great part of his cft;;te, in the con- 
 ftant puriuit of vain and expeniive pleafures. He iei- 
 dom permitted an interior to ipeak to him ; and no per- 
 fon whatever dared to opp.::e his \vill. He was as 
 vain as the peacock, as voluptuous as the pigeon, and 
 as fluggifh and inactive as the tortohe. In /liort, he 
 made fake glory, and falfe pleafures, his own puriuits. 
 
 Zadig undertook his cure : he accordingly fent 
 him, in the king's name, a maker cf mufick, with 
 twelve fingers, and twenty-four muficians ; and a 
 fteward of the holife, with fix cocks and f:;ur cham- 
 berlains, who were never to quit his pretence. The 
 king's order was, that the following particulars fhould 
 be inviolably obferved ; and thus the bufme/s proceed- 
 ed 
 
 The firft morning;, as focm as the voluptuous Trax 
 awaked, the mufick-malter entered, : i-v the 
 
 vocal and inftrumental muficians, v. .ned a 
 
 cant::ta that Infted two hc.urs aiul tinv? ... es ; in 
 \v'vch the following lints v,\re every th:e. ; ; ... itc* re* 
 pea.ed
 
 ZADIG. i 
 
 In vain OUT feeble pow'rs we raifc, 
 To fmg thy valour, wifdom, worth ; 
 
 Far, far beyond all human praife, 
 
 Thy virtues foar, molt bkft on eanh. 
 
 When the cantata was ended, a chamberlain made an 
 oration three quarters or an hour long, in which he par- 
 ticularly praiied him for all the good qualities he 
 wanted. The fpeech being ended, they conducted him 
 to table by the found of inftmments. The dinner 
 lalied thnre hours, before he condelcended to fpeak : as 
 loon as he opened his mouth for that purpofe, the firft 
 chamberlain faid he was in the right ; fcarce had he pro- 
 nounced four words, when the fecond chamberlain cried 
 { Sir, you are perfectly right '.' The other two cham- 
 berlains employed themfelvcs in laughing heartily at 
 every imart thing Irax had laid, or icemed willing to 
 lay, and were lavifli in their praiies of his wit. After 
 dinner, the adulating chorus was repeated. 
 
 The firft day Irax was in raptures, and he thought 
 the king of kings paid a proper attention to his merit ; 
 the fecond feemed lei's agreeable ; the third was fomewhat 
 troubleibme j the fourth imupportable ; and the fifth 
 tormenting. In fhort, difturbed at hearing them al- 
 ways iinging ' In vain our feeble pow'rs we raifc,' 
 \vith hearing them continually lay he was in the right, 
 and at being harangued every day at the fame hour, he 
 wrote to court to beieech the king to recal his cham- 
 berlains, his muficians, his ftewards of the houfhold, 
 and his cooks ; and promifed, in the moft fubmiffive 
 manner, to be Ids vain, and apply himfelf more clofely 
 to bulinciS. From this time he grew lefs fond of adu- 
 lation, and had fewer feafts, though he was yet more 
 h tppy ; for, as it is faid by Sadder' Always plea- 
 ' lure, is no plealure.' 
 
 ice a day paflcd wherein Zadig did not exhibit 
 /bme iVelh proof of his amazing penetration, and e* 
 C *
 
 .<? ZADIG. 
 
 trams goodnefs of heart ; he was adored by the people, 
 and beloved by the king : even the firft misfortunes of 
 his life ierved to augment his preient telicity. Ev r eiy 
 night, however, he had a dream which filled him with 
 uneafinefs. He imagined that he laid himfelf down on 
 a heap of dry herbs, among which there were prickly 
 ones that greatly incommoded him ; and that after- 
 wards he repoled himielf in the fofteft manner on a bed 
 of roies, from whence there proceeded a ferpent, which 
 wounded him to the heart with it's fhai p and envenom- 
 ed tooth. ' Alas !' faid he, l I h:.-e long laid on 
 ' thefe dry and prickly herbs ; I am now on the bed ot 
 * roles ; but what mail be the ferpent ?* 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Tke Force of Jealoufy. 
 
 TH E misfortunes of Zadig proceeded in a ^rreat 
 meafure from his preferment, but morr p->it ; cu- 
 larly from his merit. He every day converled with 
 the king and his auguft confort ; and the charms of 
 his conveiTation were redoubled by that defire of pleaf- 
 ing which is to the mind what drefs is to beauty. 
 The youth and graceful deportment of Zadig had a 
 much greater influence on Aftarte than fhe readily per- 
 ceived ; and her bofom continually nourished an affec- 
 tion of which ihe was by no means conlcious. She 
 freely, and without fcrupl.;, indulged the plcafure of 
 ieeing and ccnverfing with a man who was not only 
 dear to her hulband, but to the whole empire. She 
 
 continually fpeaking in his praife to the king ; 
 and he was the whole fubjeft of her converfation among 
 IKT women, whole culogAirns of him even exceeded her 
 cwn. In mort, every thing ierved to fink into the 
 heart of A ftarte t,he arrow which to her was imper- 
 ceptible. She made preltnts to Zadig., in which there 
 
 more of gallantry than fhe imagined ; ihe thought 
 only ot (peaking to him like a queen pleafed with his
 
 7ADIC. 29 
 
 ferviccs, but her exprelfions did not unfrequently rc- 
 iemble thole of a woman in love. 
 
 Attaite was far more beautiful than Semira, who 
 Had fuch a hatred lor one-eyed men ; or his late aftcc- 
 tionate fpoufe, who had been willing to cut off his 
 noie. The plealing familiarity of Altaite ; her tender 
 exprefTions, which Ibinctimos crimlbncd her cheeks; and 
 the dtlicate glances of her eyes, which in ipite of her- 
 felf were continually fixed upon his ; all confpircd to 
 light up a fire in the heart of Zadig, at which he was 
 himK'U amazed. He endeavoured to extinguish it, by 
 calling to his afllitarice that philolbphy which h;.d 
 hitherto been his iupport j but drew nothing from this 
 Iburce but empty knowledge, without any real confcli- 
 tion. 
 
 Duty, gratitude, and violated majefty, prefented 
 themleives to his mind as avenging de ties ; he ftrug- 
 gled bravely with his pallions, and at length gained the 
 viftory ; this conquelt, however, which he was obliged 
 every moment to re-obtain, coll him many fighs and 
 tears. He now durlt not 1'peak to the queen with that 
 delightful freedom which had hitherto proved but too 
 agreeable to them both : his eyes were veiled with a 
 mill ; his difcourie was unconnected, and had .the ap- 
 pearance of conitraint ; he endeavoured to look another 
 way, that he might not behold the queen ; and \vhea, 
 contrary to his \vifhes, his eyes met thole of Aftaite, 
 he found that her's, though bathed in tears, were ca- 
 pable of darting forth arrows of flame: they fcemcd, 
 in ihort, iilently to intimate, that they were afraid of 
 being in love with each other, and that both burned 
 with a fire which both condemned. 
 
 Zadig left her prefence with a mind unfettled and 
 dilmayed ; and his heart was opprefled with a bur- 
 den too great for him to bear. Amidft theViclence 
 of his agitations he dii'coltd to Cador the fccrets of his 
 heart; juft as a man who, having lonj; tupporud the 
 fit* of a violent difeaie, makes his amjuiih known by a 
 C 3
 
 50 ZAD1G. 
 
 cry which it's redoubled fharpnefs forces from him, 
 find by the cold fweats which hang on his brow. 
 
 ' I have already discovered,' laid Cador, ' the fen- 
 ' faticns you would fain have concealed from youriclf ; 
 ' the paffions mew themfelves by ligns which will not 
 ' fufFer us to be miftaken. Judge, my dear Zadig, 
 ' fince I have read your heart, whether the king will 
 ' net difcover a leniation fo offenuve to him. He has 
 
 * no other fault than that cf being the molt jealous of 
 ' mankind. You will reiui: your paflion with greater 
 f ftrength than the queen will combat her's, not only 
 ' becauie you are a philoibphtr, but becauie you are 
 1 Zadig. Aitarte is a woman 5 suid fuffers her looks 
 ' to 1'peak with the more imprudence, as me does not 
 ' believe herfelf to be yet guilty. Confcious of tlie 
 
 * innocency of her heart, me is by much too unguard- 
 ' ed. I tremble for her, becauie ihe hath nothing 
 ' with which to reproach herfelf. Were you both 
 ' agreed, you might deceive the whole world : a riiing 
 
 * paffion, which is fmothered, breaks out into a flame ; 
 f but love, when once gratified, knows how to conceal 
 itltlf with art.' Zadig fliudder?d at the propoial of 
 violating the bed of his royal benefactor ; nor was 
 there ever a mere faithful iubjecl, though guilty of 
 this involuntary crime. The queen, however, fo ctten 
 pronounced the name of Zadig, with her face covered 
 with blufhes ; fhe was fometimes fo aniaiated, at others 
 ib much deprefted, when ihe 1'poke of him in the pre- 
 cencc of her hufband, and was itized with fo deep a 
 thoughtfulnei's whtn he v--;is ab;L-nt, that the king be- 
 came cxtj\mely uneaiy. Pie believed all tliat he i'avv, 
 and imagined all that he did not fee. He more parti- 
 cularly remarked, that the queen's funds Js were blue, 
 
 ;it thole of Zr.dig were of the lame col'.ur; that 
 her rihnrriis \M ;<: \\ -liovv, and that Zadig's turban was 
 al.o \rilc\v. The;e were terrible progrofticks tVr a 
 j>i ince 'f iii.i delicacy to reflect on. In a mind fo dii- 
 
 ' d "s h'.s, ir.ip.cions becr.me as tacts. 
 
 ^^ ci kii-v,s and (jueer.s arc ib many l}>ie$
 
 ZADIC. 31 
 
 over their hearts. It was foon difcovered by them, 
 that Aiturte was tender, and Moabdar jealous. Ari- 
 mazes had not corrected his envious dilpchticn ; for 
 flints never foiten, and venomous animals always pre- 
 l'v.-rvc their poifon. This wretch lent an anonymous 
 letter to Aloabdar : the infamous recnurte of a fordid 
 mind, and which is always the objeft of contempt j 
 but at this time it had the intended effect, becaule it 
 feconded the f.-.t:il ientiments that poflelTed the prince', 
 he.irt. In fhort he no longer thought of any thing be- 
 liuc s the manner of his revenge. He one night relblv- 
 i - d t., policn tiie queui, and to m^ke Zadig die by the 
 bow-drip-; 'ige was to be executed at break 
 
 or day, and the order was given to a mercileis eunuch, 
 itioner of his vengeance. There was, 
 at this time, a little dwarf in the king's chamber, who 
 w.u dumb, but not dear. He was furtered to go 
 where lit pleaied ; and was a witnefs of whatever pall- 
 ed in fccret, without being more fuipecled than any 
 domeitick animal. This l.ttlc dwarf had an extraor- 
 dinary affection both for the <] Xadig. He 
 , with equal horror and furprize, the orders given, 
 ' ior their death ; but how to prevent thole orders from 
 being put in execution, as the time was ib fhort, was 
 his principal concern. It is true he could not write; 
 but then he had learned to draw, and knew how to 
 form a reicmblance. Accordingly, he fpent part of 
 tl-.e nigh: in delineating on a piece of paper what he 
 wifhed to inform the queen. His defign reprefented 
 the king agitated with fury, who ftood in a corner of 
 the picture, giving orders to his eunuch ; a bow-ltring 
 a::d a cup were placed on a table ; and in the micift of 
 t'u picture was the queen expiring in the arms of her 
 women, and Za-ig ItrangL-d ;it h.-r feet. In the hori- 
 zon he rcpre'entcd a ri:ing fun, to fhcw t'vu this hor- 
 ri!)k- execution was to K '. by bnak of day. 
 As (btjn as he had finiftied this piece, he ran to one of 
 e's women, awaked her, and rr.p.de her umk : 
 th.it ike was that very uiii.uu tu cai'iy it to tlie ;
 
 $2. ZADIG. 
 
 In the middle of the night there was a knocking at 
 Zadig's door j hs\vas awaked, and a note preiented 
 him iiom tlie queen ; he doubted whether he was not 
 in a dreim, raid opened the letter with a trembling 
 hand: hut what was his liirprize, and who cm expreis 
 his confternation sud defpair, when he read thefe words 
 ' Fly, de:<r Zadig, at this veiy inftant, in which they 
 ' are going to take away your life ! Fly, I conjure yum, 
 
 * in the name of that fatal p \fCion with which I have 
 ' Lug ftiuggled and wh'.cli I at lait confcfs, when on 
 
 * the point of expiating it by my death. Although I 
 ' am not conscious of having committed any crime, I 
 ' find that I am doomed to luffer as a traitor.' 
 
 ZaL-ig had icarce power to ipeak. He ordered his 
 friend Cador to be ceiled, and gave him the paper 
 w.t'uouc uttering a word. Cador prefled him to obey 
 the contents, and immediately take the road to Mein- 
 p/Ls. ' If you fiicuH dare go in fearch of the queen," 
 I:; id he, ' you w'ii haften her de?th ; if you mould 
 ' ;p ,'.k to the king, you will infallibly ruin her. I 
 ' v. ii rryfelf endeavour to avtrt the ftrokc which 
 ' threatens her; it will be tufficient for you to provide 
 ycur o-.vn Infety. It Hiail be inltantly I'pread 
 ' abroad, that you are g ;r.e to the Indies ; ;ind as Icon 
 ' as the purluit of you fnz.\\ be given up, I will follow 
 
 * after, and iniorm you of every occurrence.' 
 
 Cadi r immediately ordered two cf the fwifteft dro- 
 mi.-f!cries to be ready at one of the private doers of the 
 pnhce, and made Z-.'.dig ?nount that which was to carry 
 irm, though he was icarce able to fit up. He had but 
 ( -A f: afe id him ; and Cador, over- 
 
 ;d with griet, in a few moments loft fight of his 
 . 
 
 I il'ullriour, fugitive, having reached the fummit 
 of s hill from whence he might take a view ot Baby- 
 l.::i, turned his e^es towards the queen's palace, and 
 knnwdtately tainted away: \vhen he recovered his icn- 
 '^athed with tears, and he eagerly 
 wiiiitd fur dcatli. At length, having employed his
 
 ZADIG. 3? 
 
 thoughts in contemplating the deplorable fa^e of the 
 moit amiable woman and greateft queen upon earth, he 
 for a moment turned his views on himielf, and cxclamu J 
 ' What, then, is human life ! O virtue, virtue ! wh.it 
 haft thou availed ntc ! I have been baiely betrayed 
 by two females : yet a third, who is innocent, and ten 
 thousand times mere lovely, is on the point of being 
 murdered for her partiality to me. Whatever good 
 I have done, has been to me a conftant iburce of 
 difappointmcnt and mifery : I have been only raifed 
 to the height of grandeur, that my fall might be the 
 greater down the horrible precipice of misfortune. 
 Had I been as wicked and abandoned as others, I 
 ftiould, like them, have been happy !' With a mind 
 agitated by thefe fatal reflections, his eyes covered with 
 the veil of grief, the palenefs of death on his counte- 
 nance, and his foul plunged in the blackeit delpair, hs 
 continued his journey towards Egypt. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 The Wife beaten. 
 
 ZADIG direfled his coxirfe by the ftars. The 
 conitellation Orion, and the mining Dog-ftar, 
 guided him towards the pole of Cinopaea. He reflect- 
 ed with admiration on thole vaft globes of light which, 
 appear to our eye no more than faint iparks ; while 
 the earth, which in reality is but an imperceptible 
 j'.nnt in nature, freins to our fond imaginations far 
 more great and noble. He then reflected on the whole 
 race or ir.unkind, and confidered them, truly, as i 
 that devour each other on an atom of tarth. T his idea 
 fecmed greatly to alleviate his misfortunes, by making 
 him retrace the nothingnefs of his own being, and evtn 
 th it t .Babylon. His capacious foul now lo.irtd into 
 infinity, and contemplated, while detached from her 
 earthly partner, the immutable order of the univerie. 
 But the moment he returned to himiJt', r.rui again 
 il-arclitd into his own heart, he began to ceuiidtr that
 
 34- ZADIG. 
 
 Altai te might poflibly have died for him : the univerfe 
 vanifhed from his fight, and he beheld nothing through- 
 out all nature but Attarre dying, and Za'dig unfortunate. 
 As he gave himieh up to this flux and reflux cf iub- 
 lime philolbphy and diftreffing forrow, he imcnfibly 
 arrived on the frontiers of Egypt ; and his faithful at- 
 tendant was already in the h'rit hamlet, ieeking a lodg- 
 ing. Zadig, in the mean time, approached the lur- 
 rounding gardens, when he law, at a i'mall diftance 
 from the highway, a woman in tears, calling heaven 
 and earth to her aiiiftance, and a man in a violent rage 
 purfuing after her. He now came up with her, and. 
 fhe fell prolhate before him, imploring his forgivenefs ; 
 but he gave her only blows niv. reproaches. By thu 
 violence of the Egyptian, and the reiterated entreaties 
 for pardon uttered by the lady, Zadig judged that the 
 one \v;u jealous, and the other unfaithful. But when 
 he beheld the exquifite beauty of the woman, and con- 
 fidered that flic bore ibme little reicmblance to the un- 
 happy Altarte, he felt liimielf filled with companion 
 for her and horror for the Egyptian. ' For Heaven's 
 ' fake, Sir, ailift me!' cried flie to Zadig, with the 
 deepeft fighs ; ' deliver me from the hands of the moil 
 ' barbarous man living! Save me; lave my life!' 
 At thefe words Zadig ran to throw himleit between the 
 lady and this barbarian ; and as he had ibme know- 
 ledge of the Egyptian language, laid to him, in that 
 tongue ' Dear Sir, if you have any humanity, Lt me 
 beg you to pay Ibme regard to her beauty and weak- 
 neis : how can you be ib enraged at the matter-piece 
 of nature, who lies at your feet, and has no defence 
 but her tears?' ' Ah, ha?' cried the jeaicus ;nan, 
 you are, I fuppofe, one of her admirers, and I will 
 be revenged on you this moment. 1 !-a iV.y'ng, he 
 left the lady, whom he had before held by the "fnir; 
 and, talc ; ng his lance, attempted to v/cund tnc uranger. 
 Zadig, however, who was in cool blood, eahly avoided 
 the blow aimed by the enraged Egyptian, and leized the 
 Jance near the point. One iirov c to Ui-aw it back, tile
 
 ZADIG. 35 
 
 otter to wreft it from him ; and, in the fcuffle, it broke 
 in their hands. The Egyptian then drew his fabre j 
 and Z.: V himielr with liis, they attacked each 
 
 other, l hi.> gave a liundi ed precipitate blows; that 
 warded them oir" with addrels. Meanwhile the lady 
 iat on the ground, adjufting her head-drels, and look- 
 ing at the combatants . Tne Egyptian was more ro- 
 bult than his advtrfary, but Zadig was the molt expert. 
 This u per Ion whole arm was conducted by 
 
 his judgir.cr.t ; that like a man whole paflion made 
 him right at random. In fhort, Zadig ibon doled, and 
 
 >d him ; and while the Egyptian became mere, 
 furious, and att-siiij/icd to throw himielf upon him, he 
 
 it hold of him, prelled him cloi'e, threw him down, 
 and holding: his l\vord to his brep.lt, offered him his life. 
 The Egyptian, fired with rage, drew his poignard, and 
 wounded the conqueror at the very iniiant he granted 
 him his pardon; upon which, Zadig imtantly plunged 
 his labie into his bofom, and the Egyptian, with an 
 horrible cry, gave up the g ..; rhen udvarced 
 
 towards the lady, and i..'d, with a iubmiiTive voice 
 
 * He has forced me to kill him ; 1 have revenged your 
 ' caule ; and you are now delivered from the mo(t fu- 
 ' rious man I have ever Iccn : what more would you 
 ' have me do f c : your' ' Die, villain '.' ili replied j 
 ' I would h..ve you die : you hive killed my lover, 
 ' and I wilh I v, .is :\.\At to tear out your cruel heart !' 
 ' You had, indeed, a ltr:ingckindof lover !' replied Za- 
 dig: ' he beat ycu with all his ftrength ; and w< uld 
 
 * have taktn away my life, becauie you intreated me to 
 ' aflilt you ! ' I wi(l he haa beat me ftill,' : 
 
 t'..e lady, weepiog. bitterly ; ' 1 v^d it, for I 
 
 ' had made him jtalaus. Would to Heaven he was 
 ' now beating mi, ;>n<I tint you was in his fituation I* 
 ZaUi . ;;i ixcd and angry than lie had ever been 
 
 in his lilt, ,aid ' Mnciarn,notwithitandingyourbeauty> 
 i merit that I Ihoul.i beat you in my turn ; but I 
 ' diuhiii to concern myith' farther about you '.' Upon 
 thi he remounted hi* drornednry, ai;d advanced ty-
 
 j6 f ZADIG. 
 
 wards the town. Sc?axe had he began to fet forwards, 
 when he turned back at the nolle made, by tour couriers 
 of Babylon, who came riding full fpeed. One of them 
 feeing the woman, cried ' It is fhe herfelf ; (he an- 
 fwers the defcripticn given us.' They took no no- 
 tice of the dead man, but immediately feized the lady ; 
 who inceflantiy cried out to Zadig ' Help me once 
 
 * jttore, generous Itrafiger; deliver me from thel'e ruf- 
 
 * fians : i humbly beg pardon for my late ungrateful 
 ' behaviour ; help me, and I will be your's for ever I* 
 Zadig, however, had no inclination to fight in her de- 
 knce. * Apply to ibme other for aifutance,' replied 
 he ; * you fliaU not again make me the dupe of your 
 ' artifice.' Indeed, Zadig's wound bled !b fait, that' 
 he had himfeU need of ailiftance; and the fight of four 
 Babylonians, probably from King Moabdar, gave him 
 much concern. He therefore hafted towards the town ; 
 at a loi's to conceive why four couriers from Babylon 
 (hould take this Egyptian woman, but ftill more puz- 
 zled to acccu-nt for her very Itrange behaviour. 
 
 C H A P. - IX. 
 
 THE moment Zadig entered the place, he was fnr- 
 rounded by the people. Every one laid ' This 
 is the man that carried away the beautiful Miflbuf, 
 and aflaflinated Clctofis.' God preferve me, laid he, 
 from ever carrying away your beautiful Milieu* ! She 
 is too capricious for me : and as to Cfetofis, I have 
 not alThfimated him ; I have only killed him in my 
 own defence. He endeavoured to take away iny life, 
 becau.'e I begged him to Ihew mercy to the lovely 
 Miflbuf, whom he was cruelly beating. I am a 
 ftranger, fled hither for flicker ; and there is but lit- 
 tle likelihood, that on coming to entreat your pro- 
 tection, I ihould begin with carrying away a lady, 
 and aflafnnat.ing htr lover/ 
 The Egyptians, at that time, were juft and humane.
 
 7ADIC. 37 
 
 The pew'-- corc'.-.ifted Zadig to a houfe in the town; 
 and having drefled his wound, he and his domeftick 
 were examined apan, in order to difcover the trath. 
 They acquitted Zadig of the crime of wilful murdt-r ; 
 but as he had been guilty of taking away the life of a 
 man, though in his own defence, the law condemned 
 iiim to he a flave. His two dromedaries were imirte- 
 dia-cly ibid, fcr the benefit of the town 5 they divided 
 air.ong't the inhabitants the gold he had brought; and 
 hi.; ptrlb:i \v:is expofed to ialc in th? market place, to- 
 gether with that of his lervant. They were bought by 
 an Arabia:! II-.L. thant, named Setoc; and the ftrvant be- 
 1 adapted for fatigue, was (old at a much higher 
 price thin his malter: indeed, there was no companion 
 between them. Zadig was therefor* a flave lubordimtj 
 to hi - tit > were linked together by a chiir. fatt- 
 
 ened to thiir feel, a.id in this condition they fallowed 
 the Ar.ib'un merchant. Zadig, in the n;tan tir.ie, com- 
 torted his companion ; exhorted him to patience : and, 
 according to his uiir.l cuftcm, made refi-itions en h-. - 
 man life. ' I fee,' fp.id he, ' that the unhappinefs of my 
 deltiny lias < u tffe^l on yours. Every thir.g i.i which 
 I have h:id r.jiy concern, has hitherto been frrangely 
 con:liic't5d. I hnve been condemned to pay a fine for 
 having !l-en th,- traces left by the feet ot a dog j Ihavs 
 liiiFcrcd t he fc r of being iir.palcd on account of a grif- 
 fin ; I huve been lent to execution ftfr making vei !ei 
 in p.aiTe of the king; I have been on the point of bc- 
 in.r Ihir.rit-J, beca-afe the queen hath fpoke tome wiiii 
 ; and hvi'e I am a (lave with you, becauie a 
 biutif!: fcUc\v has beat his miftrels. Let us, however, 
 be cheajrul, ;ui;i -not loleour courage; alithis, p. 
 will hare an end. If it be necelfary for thi .! 
 merchants to have fuves, why fhould not I be one as 
 well as an.oi.heri fince I am al(b a man. PvoSaMv th'-; 
 mtrclant will not be void of pitv : it is t 
 him to treat his llaves well, if he wc-.:H t-p muchi 
 .m then:.' TiJs \\_- 
 D
 
 3? ZADIC. 
 
 words ; but his thoughts were wholly employed about 
 the fate of the queen of Baby tan. 
 
 Two clays after, the merchant fet out for Arabia De- 
 lerta, with his flavcs and camels. His tribe dwelt nerr 
 the delert of Oreb ; and the way was long and painful. 
 Setoc, while on the road, let more value on the fervant 
 than the mailer, becauie the firft was more expert in load- 
 ing his camels; and all the little marks of distinction 
 were in his favour. A camel happening to die within 
 two days journey of Oreb, his burden was divided, and 
 placed on the backs of his flaves. Setoc liniled at ieeing 
 them walk ftooping forward ; andZadig took the liber- 
 ty of explaining the caule, by informing him of the laws 
 of the balance. The merchant, aftonifhed at his ph.lc- 
 fophical difcourie, began now to look upon him with a 
 very different eye ; and Zadig, finding that he had ex- 
 cited his curioiity, redoubled it, by informing him cf 
 many things not foreign to commerce ; the Ipecifick 
 gravity of metals, and other eommodities of various 
 kinds under an equal bulk ; the properties of ieu-n 1 
 ufeful animals, and the means of rendering thofe thi t 
 were not Ib fit for fervice. In fhort, he appeared to 
 Setoc as a fage, and was elteemed by him far more va- 
 luable than his companion ; he accordingly treated him 
 with tlie utmoft kindneis, and never had th fmailfit 
 cauie to repent his indulgence. 
 
 Setoc being arrived among his own tribe, demanded 
 payment of five hundred ounces of iilver, which he had 
 lent to a Jew in the prefenca of two witnerTcs ; but the 
 witnefles being dead, .and the Jew fatisfied of the im- 
 porlibility of proving the debt, he looked on the money 
 to be his own, and thanked God tor having enabled him 
 fafcly to defraud an Arabian. Setoc told his ureali- 
 nefs to Zadig, who was now his chief confident. 
 * Where,' ud Zadig, ' did you lend the money to 
 ' this infidel ?' ' On a large ftone near Mount Oreb,' 
 replied the merchant. ' What is the character 'of 
 ' your debtor ?' faid Zadig. ' That of a notorious 
 ' villain/ replied Setcc. ' But I afk,' 'faid Zadig,
 
 ZADIG. 39 
 
 ' whether he be lively or phlegmatick, cautious or im- 
 prudent.'-' He is the worit pay-matter in the world,' 
 laid Setoc, ' but the moft lively and merrieft fellow I 
 ' ever knew.' ' Well,' faid Zadig, permit me to 
 ' plead your caufe.' Accordingly Setoc confcnted j 
 and Zadig having cited the Jew to appear, (poke thus 
 before the Judge' Pillar of the throne of equity, I 
 ' come to demand of this man, in the name of my 
 ' matter, five hundred ounces of filver, which he re- 
 ' fufes to pay him.' * Have you any witneflcs to 
 prove the debt ?' faid the judge. ' No,' repeated 
 Zadig ; they are both dead : hut there yet remains a 
 ' large ftone on which the money was counted ; and if 
 ' it pleaies your excellence to order the ttone to be 
 ' fought for, I doubt not but it will prove a fufficient 
 ' evidence. The Jew and 1 will wait here till it arrives, 
 ' and the expence of bringing it mail be defrayed by 
 ' my mafter.' ' Your requeit is but reafonabfe,' re- 
 plied the Judge ; ' do as you propofe.' He then pro- 
 ceeded to other buiinds. 
 
 When the court was about to break up, the judge 
 add refled Zadig ' Well,' faid he, ' is your ftone yet 
 come?' The Jew, fneering, replied ' Should your 
 excellence wait here till to-morrow, you would not 
 even then fee the ftone ; for it is above fix miles dif- 
 tant from hence, and would require fifteen men to 
 remove it.' ' I have well laid,' cried Zadig aloud, 
 that the ftone would bear witnefs ! Since tnis man 
 knows where the ftone lies, be confefles that the 
 money was counted on it.' The Jew> thus con- 
 founded, was foon conftrained to confefs the truth ; 
 and the judge ordered that he (hould be fattened to the 
 (tone, without meat or drink, till he had reltored the 
 money, which was then fpeedily paid. From that time, 
 the Have Zadig, as well as the (tone, were held in great 
 rltcern throughout all Arabia.
 
 4-0 ZADIC. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 The Funeral File. 
 
 SETOC, tranfported with his good fuccefs, made 
 Zaciig his favourite companion. He valued him 
 as much as the king of Babylcn had fbrmerly dene; 
 and, luckily tor Zadig, the merchant had no wife. 
 He discovered in his mailer a natur-.l propensity to 
 goodnefs, and fern- 1 him to be a worthy and a lermble 
 man ; but he was concerned to lee a peribn he ib 
 greatly eiteemed paying divine adoration to a hoft of 
 created, though celeftial beings, according to the 
 cultora in Arabia of wcrfhipping the fun, moon and 
 flars. He fometimes cautiouily introduced this im- 
 portant topick; and at ler.gth Vc-rvure<i to affert, that 
 they were equally created with things of lei's luftre, 
 and no mere entitled to our adoration than a tree or a 
 rock. ' But, 1 laid Setoc, ' thefe are eternal beings, 
 ' from whom we derive every bUfiing we enjoy ; they 
 ' animate nature ; they regulate the leafons ; and are, 
 ' in mcrt, fituate at iuch an infinite diltance from us, 
 ' that we cannct but revere them.' * You receive 
 ' more advantages,' replied /^adig, ' from the waters 
 
 * of the Red Sea, which c.;rry your merchandize to 
 ' the Indies 5 and may not that be as ancient as the 
 ' Itajs ? Or if you will worfhip what is at a diltance, 
 ' you mould rather pay your adoration to the land of 
 ' the Gangarides, which is fituate at the extremities of 
 ' the earth.' ' No,' laid Setoc, ' the ftars are fo fur- 
 
 * pafiingly brilliant, that it is impoffible for me not to 
 
 * prefer their..' 
 
 In the evening ad!g lighted a great number of can- 
 dlei in the tent in which they were to iup ; and as 
 foon as Setoc appeared, threw himil-lf on his knees 
 bcftre the' flaming tapers, and thus addreflcd them, 
 ' Eternal and ever-lhinirg brightneis, be prcpitious 
 ' to your votary!' Havirg uttered theie words, he fat 
 down to table, without regarding Setoc. ' What are
 
 ZADIO. 41 
 
 you ilcing? faid Setoc, filled with aftcnifhrr.ent. I 
 f aft, Sir, like you,' replied Zadig; ' I adore theie 
 ' candles, and nog-left their Mailer and mine.' 
 
 Setcc ccmprehcnded the profound icnic of this apo- 
 logue. The wiidom of his ilave entered into his loul ; 
 and he no longer burned incenfe to created beings, but 
 adcrcd the Eternal who made them. 
 
 The Arabians had at that time a horrid cuftom, 
 originally brought from Scythia, and which being 
 dtablifhed in the Indies by the credit of tlie Brach- 
 mans, threatened to fpread it's infection ever all the 
 Fait. When a married man died, and his dearly be- 
 loved wife wifhed to be eileemed a faint, fhe burned 
 heriili publickly en her hu (band's funeral pile. This 
 was a Iblemn fettival, called the widow's Sacrifice ; and 
 the tribe in which mofl women had been thuo burnt, was 
 held in the greatclt rei{x>>. An Arabian of the ii>me 
 tribe as Sctoc being desd,-. his widow, named Almona, 
 who was very devout, made known the day and hour 
 In which fhe would throw lurielf into the pile, am id ft 
 the Ibund of dnrtns and trumpets, /adig remcr.r 
 to h s mafter, how cortr.iy this horrible cuftc: 
 to the welfare cf the human race, t!:^t voimg widows 
 (hould be every day penr,i:ted to burn themlclvcs, who 
 were capable of giving children to the ilate, or of edu- 
 catir.g thcfe they had already ; ar.d he obliged him to 
 acknowledge, that fo barbnrcus a cultom cught, if 
 polTible, to be. totally ab limed. 'It is now,' faid 
 ' ^ctoc, more than a thousand years fmce widows were 
 in poflefiicn'^f the right of burning thtmitlves ; and 
 ' who can change a law consecrated by time ? Is the'e 
 ' any thing mere reTjicfiablc than even an ancient error ?* 
 ' But realbn is ftill more ancient and reljuftaVle,' re- 
 plied Zadig. ' Do yjtij f:r, ccmmxinicate thcle fen- 
 
 * timents to the chiets of the tribes, and I will attend 
 ' en the widi'W.' 
 
 Acocrdinghr, he waitrd xipon her ; and, having in-, 
 fmuaud hunklf into her f?vi-vir by compl:: 
 
 P 3
 
 4 ZADIG. 
 
 K-:uity, he urgz-d what a pity it was that charms like 
 JUT'S ihouid be contained by iire, only to mingle afhes 
 with a d-ad huiband ; and was lavifh in his prailes of 
 her conltancy and heroick fortitude. " You mult mrsly 
 ' have iov^d your hufband extremely ?' laid he. ' No,' 
 ivpl ed the lady, ' I loved him no; at all. He was a 
 ' brute ; he was jtalous ; and ib great a tyrant, that 
 ' he was quite iniupportable : but I have, notwith- 
 ' (landing, firmly rciblved to throw myfelf on his fu- 
 ' neral pile.' ' There is then, furely, faid Zadig, 
 ' a very delicious pleafure in being burnt alive !' - 
 ' Alas!' faid the lady, 'the thought makes nature 
 ' Ihudder ; but that is not to be coniidered. I am a 
 ' profeffed devotee; and, fii.uld I (hew the lead re- 
 ' luctance, my reputation would be for ever lolt. In 
 ' fliort, the whole world would deipiie me, if I did 
 ' not burn myieliV Zadig havir.g made .her confefs 
 that file burnt h eric If merely to pleai'e others, and la- 
 tisiy her vanity, converged with Her a long time, in 
 Inch a manner, as not only to make her a little in love 
 with life, but even proceeded ib far as to irifpire her 
 with Ibir.e degree of p.irtiallty for the fpeaker. * What 
 ' wcuid you do,' laid he, ' if the vanity of burning 
 ' youri'eli' mould not prevail ?' ' Alas!' replied flie, 
 ' 1 believe I ihould wifh you to be my hufband.' 
 
 Zadig was too much filled with the idea of Aftarte, 
 not to elude this warm declaration. He took his 
 leave ; and went inftantly to the chiefs, whom he told 
 what had parted, and adviied them to make a law, that 
 no widow fliould be permitted to burn herfelt" till (he 
 had converted with a youn^f man one hour in private. 
 The 1 i\v was accordingly pal'fed, and iince that time 
 no hdy has burnt herielf in Arabia. To Zadig they 
 were indebted for deltroying, in one day, a cruel cul- 
 toni that had lafted Ib many ages : and he was therefore 
 very jufHy regarded, by all thv; 1 idies in Arabia, as 
 their principal benefactor.
 
 CADIC. 4? 
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 The Supper. 
 
 SETOC, who could not long feparate himfdf from 
 Zadig, in whom he dilcovercd Ib much wifdom, 
 took him to the fair of Balzora, whither the richeft 
 merchants in the earth ufually repaired. Zadig was 
 delighted to fee ib many men of different countries af- 
 iembled in the fame place. It feemed to him as if the 
 univerfe was one large family met together at Balzora. 
 On the fccond day after his arrival, he fat at table 
 with an Egyptian, an Indian, an inhabitant of Cathay, 
 a Greek, a Celtick, and feveral other foreigners, who, 
 in their frequent voyages to the Arabian Gulph, had 
 learned fufficient Arabick to make themfelves under- 
 Itood. The Egyptian appeared greatly exafperated : 
 ' What an abominable place is Balzora ! ' laid he ; 
 ' they here refuie me a thoufand ounces of gold on the 
 ' beft fccurity in the world!' ' How is that ?' (aid 
 Setoc ; ' on what fecurity have they refufed you this 
 ' fum r ' On the body of my aunt,' replied the 
 Egyptian. ' She was one of the fined women in all 
 ' Egypt ; (he conftantly accompanied me in my jour- 
 ' nies, but unhappily died on the road. I made her one 
 1 (, c . the choiceft mummies we have amongil us ; and 
 
 * might, in my own country, have whatever I pl.-aied, 
 ' by giving her as a pledge. It is exceedingly ftrange 
 ' that they will not here lend a thoufand ounces of gold 
 ' on fo folid a lecurity !' He was now going to vent 
 his rage on an excellent boiled tow! ; when the Indian 
 taking him by the hand, cried, in a forrowiul manner 
 ' Ah ! what are you going to do ?' ' To eat a wing 
 ' of this fowl,' (aid the Egyptian, * as part of my 
 
 * fupper !' ' Confider what you are doing,' laid the 
 Indian : * it is poflible that the foul of the deccrfed 
 ' may have parted into the body of that fowl ; and you 
 ' would not, furel\i, expofe yourlelf to the. danger ot"
 
 44 ZADIG. 
 
 ' eating; your aunt ! The drefling of fowls is a manifett 
 
 * outrage on nature.' ' What do you mean by your 
 ' nature and your fowls ?' replied the chclerick Egyp- 
 tian j c we wcrfhip oxen, and yet e,at heartily of beef.' 
 ' Worihip oxen ! is it poflible ? ? cried the Indian. 
 ' There is nothing fo poflible,' returned the other : ' it 
 ' is an hundred and thirty-five thoufand years fince we 
 ' firft did ib, and nobody amongft us has ever yet found 
 ' fault with it. 1 - ' A hundred and thirty-five thoufand 
 
 * years ! ' laid the Indian : ' this account muft certain- 
 ' ly be exaggerated ; it is but fourfcore thouihnd fmce 
 ' India was til ft inhabited, and we are certainly more 
 
 * ancient than you. Braina prohibited our eating cows 
 ' before you put them on your altars or your {'pits.' 
 ' Your Brama is a pleafant fort of an animal, to be 
 ' compared to our Apis,' laid the Egyptian. ' What 
 ' mighty matter has your Brama ever done ?' 
 ' Why,' replied the Braman, ' it is he who firft taught 
 ' mankind to read and write, and to him the whole 
 ' earth is indebted for the noble game of chefs.' 
 ' You deceive ycinleif, fir,' laid a Chaldean who itood 
 near him ; ' we owe theie great benefits to the nfn O: n- 
 ' r.es ; and it is juft that we mouki p:y our homage 
 ' CIMV to him. All the wcild will teil you that he is a 
 ' divine being ; that he had a golden tail, with the head 
 ' of a mcft beautiful man ; and tint, three hours evt iy 
 dry, he le.t the water to preach upon land Every 
 ' buly knows that he had many children, who were all 
 
 * powerful kings. I have his picture 'at home, to 
 ' whi ch, as in duty bound, I pray every evening before I 
 ' retire to reft, and every morning when I arile. No 
 ' .'(u'U, people may eat as much beer as they pleafe ; 
 ' \)ui it is .urely a very great impiety to have fifhierv- 
 ' t-d up at table. Befides, you are both of an origin 
 ' too ig:ir>Me, and too recent, to difpiue with me about 
 
 i linj : :ho ra'ir.n of the Kgyptians reckon only 
 ' i rn- imiT-irt-ct ar.d li-.irty-iive thouland years, and t!ie 
 
 * Indians boalt but ci fuuricore tbouiaod, while we
 
 ZADIC'. 4.5 
 
 c have almanacks of four thoufand cer.tur'es. Believe 
 ' what I tell you, renounce your tollies, and I will 
 ' give to each ol ycu a beautiful picture ot cur Cannes. ' 
 Tre Chinefe, or man of Cathay, joining in the dif- 
 courfe, laid ' I greatly refpecl: the Egyptians, the 
 
 * Chaldeans, the Greeks, the Ctlticks, hi: ma, Apis, 
 ' and the beautiful Cannes ; but it is pcflible that Li, 
 
 * or Tien*, as he is commonly called, is luperior to all 
 ' the hulls ai.d fifties in the ur.iverfe. I will fay no- 
 ' thirg cf my country; though it is rs large as the 
 ' hnd of Egypt, Chaldea, and the Indies, together. I 
 ' flir.ll not etilpute about antiquity , K-caule it is fuffi- 
 
 * cien.t we are happy ; but, if it were neceflary to 
 
 * fpeak of r.lrr.anacks, I fhould lay, that all Afia pre- 
 ' lers curs, and that we had very CCITC& ones betcre 
 ' arithmetick was known in Chaldta.* 
 
 ' Ignorr.nt mortals !' cried the Greek, ' have ye 
 ' not y.t Veen inibnr.ed, that Chaos is the father of all, 
 ' and that form and matter have put the world in its 
 ' prefer.t ftr.te ?' He Ipcke thus fcr a long time } but 
 was at length interrupted by the Celtick, who having 
 drank pretty freely during the whole time of this 
 debate, imagined himielf mere learned than all the 
 others; and ciied out, with a great oath, that there 
 were none but Teutath, and the mifletce of the oak, 
 that were worth the trcu! L they were giving them- 
 ftlvts ; that, fcr his part, he hr.rt always mifletOe in his 
 pockt[; that the *c)thians, his anceitcrs, were the 
 only men of worth that had ever appeared ii. the world ; 
 and fr.ltlii \<-\i they hr.d, it was trtiL-, iomctimeseat their 
 ccuiuiymen, yet tim was no reaion why they ought 
 not to have a gre: t re pixt tor his nation : in fhort, he 
 decl icd, that ii ni.y on*- fpoke evil of Tciitath, he 
 would loon teach h.m hew to behave himielf. The 
 qu:incl then new waur, and Setoc began to fear the 
 table would be preler.tly ftained with blood. Zadig, 
 
 * The Chinrfctefm, Li, hgnifics natu> at fight, or reafon; 
 and Tita liquifies ihe'btavcfti, ur ilic Supreme Btitg.
 
 46. ZADIG. 
 
 \VPO had kept filence during the \vhole difpute, at laft 
 arcfe. He firft addrefled ,.himielf to the Celtick, as 
 being the mcft furious ; and, telling him he had reaibn 
 on his fide, begged to have fome of his mifletoe. He 
 e::p;>.tiated on the eloquence of the Grecian ; and ibf- 
 tciied, in the inoft artfi.il manner, all the contending 
 parties. He faid, indeed, but little to the man of 
 Cathay, becaule he had been by far the moft reafonable. 
 At length he addreffed them, in general terms, to this 
 effect. ' My dear friends, you have been all this 
 4 whlk contetting about an important topick, in which 
 
 * it is evident you are all unanimously agreed ! ' At 
 this word, they all cried out together. Is it not 
 ' true,' laid he to the Celtick, ' that you do net adore 
 
 * this milletoe, but him that made the miflctce and the 
 oak ?' ' Certainly,' replied the Celtick. ' And 
 ' you, the Egyptian, probably revere, in a certain ex, 
 
 * him who has given us all horned cattle ?' < Yes,' 
 laid the Egyptian. ' The fifh Cannes/ continued he, 
 ' ought to yield to him who made both the fea and the 
 ' fifhes.' ' Agreed,' faid the Chaldean. ' The Indian 
 ' and Cathaiar.,' added he, ' acknowledge, like p.ll the 
 ' reft, a fivft principle. I have not, it is true, per feel ly 
 
 * mderftood the admirable things which have been cie- 
 ' livered by the Greek; but I am fully perfuaded he 
 
 * alfo will acknowledge a Superior Being, on whom 
 ' form and matter entirely depend." The Greek, 
 whofe wifdom they all admired, confefled that Zadig 
 had exaftly penetrated his thoughts. ' You are then 
 ' all of one mind,' replied Zadig ; ' and there is no 
 room for difpute.' They then all embraced him ; and 
 Setoc, after having fold his commodities at a very high 
 price, returned home with Zadig. On their arrival at 
 Oreb, thty prefently found that a profecution had been 
 carried on againft Zadig in his ab fence, and that he 
 wni condemned to be burnt before a flow fire.
 
 ZAD1G. 47 
 
 CHAP. XIF. 
 The Rendezvous. 
 
 WHILE Zadig attended his frun.l Setoc to 
 Balzora, the priefts of the Itp.rs dt-iennirtd to 
 punifh him. As all the colt I/ jewels, and other i 
 able ornaments, ot every young widow whom tiicy cr.t 
 to the funeral pile, became their property, it is not 
 greatly to be wondered at, that thty in^iild be inc 
 to burn fo great an enemy to their intereils. Thty ac- 
 cordingly accuied him of 'having erroneous fentimenti 
 with relpeft to the heavenly hull : they made oath lu 
 had been heard to fay the Itars did not let in the ica. 
 This frightful blaiplicmy made the judges treinl k ; 
 they were ready to tear their veftments when they heard, 
 thele impious wcrds j and would dcubtLi', have done 
 it, it" Zadig had had luificient to pay them for new 
 ones : but, in the excefs of their grief, they were wil- 
 ling fo content themil-lves with condemning him to b^ 
 roaftcd alive before a llow fire. Setoc, reduced to dc- 
 fpair, employed all his intereit to fave his friend ; he 
 was, however, foon obliged to be filent. The young 
 widow Almona, who had conceived a great fondnels 
 for life, for which (he was indebted to Zndig, reiblved, 
 if pcflibk, to draw him from the iuneral p:le, which 
 he had convinced her was greatly abufed. Sherevch - 
 ed her defign in lecret, without fpeaking to any cne. 
 Zadig was to be executed the next day, and flie had on- 
 ly the night in which (he ccuiJ iave him. Let us 
 now behold the method punued by this diicieet and 
 benevolent widow. 
 
 She made uie of the moft coftly perfumes, and heigh- 
 tened the power of her charms by the richeiiand gayeit 
 apparel : Ihe then went to demand a fecret ai:dience of 
 the chief prieft of the ftars. On being admitted into 
 his auguft and venerable prefence, (he addrelieJ herielf 
 to him in thele terms' Eldeft ion of the Great beai', 
 4 brothtrtotheBuil,coUiintotheGre;.tDo,' [tb^ie \veic
 
 4* ZADIG. 
 
 the titles of the pontiff] ' I come to acquaint you w'th 
 ' my icruplcs. My cjnfcience tells me I have commit- 
 f ted an enormous crime, in not burning my.'elr on the 
 * funeral pile of my dear hufband. VVha", in faft, 
 ' lud I worth fparing ? Penm.ible flelli only, already 
 1 wrinkled and dried up.' She then drew off, wi'h a 
 negligent but artful air, her long lilk gloves, and dii- 
 played her naked arms, which were of an ad-r.irable 
 forai] and rivalled the i'rxnv in whitenels. ' You lee.' 
 laid (he, 'tint thefe are li- tie worth.' The pontiff 
 found that his heart told him they were worch a great 
 deal ; his eyes laid Ib ; and hi. mcuth confirmed it, 
 by the moft Iblemn p.-o:eltat'ons chat he hai never 
 before ll-cn fuch lovely arms. ' Alas P faid the 
 widow, ' my arms may not be quhe fo bad as the 
 ' re(t ; but you will ccnfe's th.it my neck was not 
 ' worthy of the leaft regard. 1 She then discovered 
 the moll charming boiori that nature had ever formed. 
 A role bud on aa apple of ivory, when compared to 
 her brea.t, would have appeared like madder on the 
 wood of the box-tree, and the whitenefs of new-walhed 
 lambs would have ieemed but a duiky yellow. Her 
 delica'e neck ; her fxiil black eyes, which languished 
 with the loft luftre of a tender fire ; her cheeks, which 
 were animated with the molt lovely purple, blended 
 with the whiter.cfs of the pureit milk ; her nofe, \vliicli 
 fcmewhat refembled the tower on Mount Lebanon ; 
 her lips, that were as t%vo borders of coral enclofing 
 the molt beautiful pearls in the Arabian lea 5 in Ihort, 
 the plealmg combination of charms which appeared 
 before him, made the old prielt fancy himklf not more 
 than twenty ; and, with a trembling voice, he began 
 to utter a tender declaration of his paiRon. Almor.a, 
 feeing h'm enflnmcd, begged he v,\;uld pardon Zadig- 
 ' Alls! lovely fair one!' faid he, ' though I mould 
 t yi-u his pardon, my indulgence would be of 
 ' little avail : it is neciikiy that it mould be figntd 
 ' by three orhers, my bretlnen.' ' Sign it firft, how- 
 ' ever.' replied Alm.-nn. ' I \vill do it freely/ fnid
 
 7ADIG. 49 
 
 the prieft, ' on condition that your favours he the 
 price cf my ivodiru-fs to lerve you.' ' You load me 
 with honour,' laid Aimona i ' hut, if you will I-; 
 pleafed to come to my chamber after fun-let, and ?.s 
 loon as the bright ftar She at twinkles in the horizon, 
 you will find me on a rof.--coloun.-d Ibplia, embroi- 
 dered with filver, and you may there u.'e your p'e:i- 
 fure \vi h your frrvant." She then departed with 
 Zadig's general pardon, which the pomirt" had ii^ned, 
 and left him full of love, though not without <! 
 cf his abilities. The remainder of the day he 'pent 
 in bathing ; he drank enlivening draughts of a liq-ior 
 compofed of the cinnamon of Ccvlon, and the precious 
 fpices of Tidor and Ternate ; and waited with great 
 impatience the riling of the brilliant Sheat. 
 
 The lovc-ly Aimona, in tlie mean time, -.vent to the 
 fccond. He aliured her, thst the fun, the moon, ami 
 all the fires in the Hrmnni:nt, were but as inlignific-tnt 
 meteors in comp.irhbn of her chirms. She d.nund-d 
 the fame favour of him, and he propofcd to grant it at 
 the fame price. Aimona fuffVxed heilelr to be over- 
 come, and appointed thi fccond pontiff to in.-i.-t her at 
 <he rifing of the {tar Aigenib. From thence me pr.ffed 
 to the third, and to the fourth prieft ; (till obtaining a 
 fignature h\m each, and making the afligna.iur.s ;'ron 
 ftar to (ur. 
 
 She th.-n fent for the judges to come to her hcuTe 
 on an affair of the gixat^it in-.ptMtance. They waited 
 on her ?.cci raingly, and Hie laid before them th.- par- 
 don of Zadig, fig.-ied with the names of the K ur prints, 
 informi'i.; t ie :i of the conditijns upon which it ha.l 
 been olt:.i,rc,l. Tl.e prLfts, in the mean t-me, punc- 
 tually kepL tlu-'.r appointment, a.:d each was greatly 
 furpriied at iir.dir^- his brethren ; but itill more, at 
 fjeing there tlu 'dlie whom his (hame was 
 
 manifeft. By this atagtm Zadig wcs fave.! ; and 
 Setoc was :'o c'T.umed at the dexterity cf AloSfflfe thit 
 he ihortiy ai'u,- nude licr hii wile. 
 li
 
 50 ZADIG. 
 
 Zadig now departed, having thrown himfelf at the 
 feet of his fair deliverer : and Setoc and he- iVparated 
 from each other with tears, vowing a mutual and eter- 
 nal friendftnp ; and promiling, that the firll of the two 
 who mould rails a fplendid fortune, mould mare it 
 with the other. 
 
 Zadig travviled by the fide of Aflyria, constantly 
 thinking on th; unhappy Aitarte, and rtfic&ing on 
 the fates, which leem.d obitinattiy bc'*t en iporting 
 with him, and making- him the iubjcft of new perfe- 
 cutions. ' What,' laid he, ' four hundred ounces of 
 gold for not having ieen a dog ! condtmm-d to lofe 
 my life for four lines of bad poetry in prsile cf the 
 king ! ready to be ftranglcd b^cauie the queen looked 
 kindly upon me ! reduced to llavery for having re- 
 lieved a woman who was beat ! and on the point of 
 being confumcd to ames, for having fayed the lives 
 of all the young widows in Arabia.* 
 
 w 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The Robber. 
 
 HEN Zadig arrived on the frontiers which 
 il-paiate Arabia Pctrea from Aflyria, as he 
 paflTcd near a pretty llrong caltie, a party of armed 
 Arabians fallied cut ; and immediately iurrcundirg 
 him, cried ' Whatever prcptity you have belongs to 
 * us, and your penbni are at the 1 dtfpofal of our mxT- 
 1 ter/ Zadig aniwcred by drawing his fword ; and 
 his fti*vant, who was a man of great courage, did the 
 fame. 'I hty presently overthrew thole who had firft 
 attacked them ; and though the numbers of their op- 
 ponents redoubled, they itemed not at all d'.finayed, 
 but rciblvtd to die righting. Two men fought againlt 
 a multitude ; and luch a combat could not be of long 
 continuance. The niafu-r of the caitle, wluie name 
 was Arbogad, having bchelJ from a window the in- 
 trep.d behaviour of Zadiaf, felt his mind filled with 
 titxuri : he delcenced in hailc, and canii himftlf to call
 
 51 
 
 off his men, and to deliver the two travellers. ' What- 
 ever p:ilies over my territories,* laid he, * becomes 
 * my property, as well as what I find in the pofiefiion 
 ' of others ; but your bravery, fir, mall exempt you 
 ' frcrn this consequence. 1 He then made him enter 
 into his cattle; ordered his domeilicks to treat him 
 with UK ivat>.ft refpect ; and in the evening they nip- 
 ped together. 
 
 Although Arbogad was an Arabian robber, yet, 
 amidft a multitude of bad actions, he lonutimcs per- 
 formed filch as were worthy of the higiieft prnife. He 
 plundered mankind, it is true, with a lurious rapacity, 
 but he alib behaved with great liberality. He was 
 intrepid inaction} eaiy in his dealings; a debauchee 
 at his table, but gay even in his debauchery ; and had, 
 above : 11, a free and open frank nefs. He was much 
 pleafcd with Zadig, the gaiety of whofe convention 
 prolonged their repaft. At length Arbogad faid to 
 him ' I advile you to enroll yourielf under me ; it is 
 ' impo'Tible tor you to do better. My occupation is 
 ' not a bad one, and you may one day become wh it I 
 
 * am at prefent.' ' 1 could wifti to know,' replied 
 Zadig, ' how long you have exercifed this noble pro- 
 
 * fefl'.on?' ' From my melt tender youth,' returned 
 this great man: ' I was at firft only lervant to an 
 ' Arabian; who, indeed, treated ir.e kindly enough. 
 ' But any (late of k-rvitude was to me inlupportable :' 
 ' I was unhappy in conlidering that Fate had 
 
 * me no portion in a world to which ?.ll mankind have 
 ' an equal chim. I imparted my uneafmeis to an eld 
 ' fage Arabian, and he thus endeavoured to comfort 
 ' me " My Ion," faid he, "do not dei'pair: there 
 
 formerly a grain of fand which lamented its 
 being an atom unknown in the dei'arts ; but at the 
 end of feme years it became a diamond, and is at 
 the richeft and molt admired ornament of 
 the Indian crown." ' Thisdilcourie made a very 
 ' ftr.'ng imprelfion upon me: I conlidered myklt us 
 
 * the grain of land, and determined, if pcfiibk-, to be- 
 
 E z
 
 5* ZADIG. 
 
 come the diamond. Accordingly, I began by flea!- 
 
 ' ing two hones ; sfibciated to mylclf companions, and 
 
 ' put myltlf in a condition to rob Irr.ail caravans; 
 
 * and thus, by degrees, I ibcn leiltned the dilpropcr- 
 ' tion there appeared between me and other people. I 
 not only enjoyed my fhare of the good things of this 
 ' lite, but was even icccmpenied with imiry lor my 
 
 * tenner iuffering-s. I now grew much reipecltd, ?.nd 
 
 * became the captain of a band of robbers. Q his caf- 
 ' tie was gained by violence : the latrape of Aflyria, 
 ' however, relblved to difpofieis mej but I was too 
 ' rich to have any thing to fear 5 for, by giving him 
 ' money, 1 not only prelerved this cattle, but encreafed 
 
 * my pofleffions. He even made me treafurer of the 
 ' tributes which Arabia Petrea pays to the king of 
 ' kings ; and I punctually execute my office of coilec- 
 ' tor, but (hall net veiy ipeediiy cliicharge that of 
 ' paymaitcr. 
 
 ' The great defterham of Babylon fent hither, in 
 ' the name of King Moabdar, an inlignificant latrape, 
 with a commiffion to firangle me. This perfon ar- 
 rived with his royal mafter's warrant. 1 was ap- 
 ' prized of the whole affair, and ordered his entire re- 
 
 < tinue, confining of four inferior officers, to be ftran- 
 
 < gled before his face, after the la;re manner as was 
 intended for me. I then defired to know what he 
 ' was to have obtained by my death. He replied, that 
 4 his fees would have amounted to about three hundred 
 ' pieces of gold. I laid before him the advantage he 
 
 * would gain by (laying with me ; constituted him an 
 ' inferior robber ; and he is now cne ct the beft and 
 ' richeft officers. Believe me, your iuccefs will be as 
 ' great as his. There never was a better feaibn for 
 ' robbery than at prefent, for Moabdar is lately killed, 
 ' and all Babylon is in the greateft confufion.' 1 ' 
 
 * Moabdar killed !' exclaimed 2ndig; ' then what is 
 ' become of Queen Aftarte ?' ' I cannot inform you,' 
 replied Arbcgad : ' all I cr.n tell is, that Moabdar loft 
 ' his fenfes, and was murdered j that the people of
 
 ZADIO. 53 
 
 Babylon are deftroying one another; and that the 
 whole empire is la : d wafte. There are Ibme fine 
 ftrokes yet to be taken ; and, for my part, I have 
 been already pretty fuccefsful.' ' But the queen, 
 fir!' laid Zadig; ' are you acquainted with the trite 
 of the queen ?' ' I have heard lomething of a prince 
 of Hircania,' implied he: ' it" :he \va* not (lain in the 
 tumult, (he is probably one of his concubines. But 
 I am more anxious for booty than ibr news. I have 
 taken many ladies in my excuriions, but I never keep 
 them. Wh=n they are beautiful I i'ell them for the 
 belt price I can, without minding who they are. 
 Nothing is given on account of rank j and a queen 
 who is ugly will never find any one inclined to buy 
 her. Pei haps I may have Ibid the queen, or perhaps 
 me may be dead; but that is of little importance to 
 me, and I fuppoie you have no more reaion to trou- 
 ble yourlelf abcut it than I have.' After this lie 
 drank ib plentifully, that all his ideas were too much 
 confined f.r Zadig to gr.in any farther information: 
 he was ftmck dumb, confounded, and remained mo- 
 tionlefs as a ftatue. An>ogad continued drir.L 
 told a number cf rr.erry ftories, inctflfontly repeated 
 that he was the Iwppicft man alive, and invited Zadig 
 to become as c'ncaiful as himfclf. At length, being 
 overcome by the fumes of his liquor, he lunk into a 
 proiound (kip; \vhile Zadig prficd the night in the 
 moft vicl.nt agitations. ' What,' laid he, ' the king 
 then has lo(t his lenfes ! he is fir.in ! I cannot but 
 lament his fate. The empire is torn to pieces, and 
 yet th : s robber is hippy! () Fortune! O De.tiny '- 
 A man who lives by rapine is Inpnv ; and the mod 
 crea-ure that Nature , ed K.is^ per- 
 
 haps, eitlicr lutfered an ig'iomir.itr.is ck-uth, i 
 in :\ it:-.tc wor.'e than even death it't-ir' ! O Altarte 1 
 O Aftarte ! -what is become cf thee ?* 
 As loon as day-l.ght app-.-a: d, h; er.nu'"ed about 
 iio/ic of evci^y one he faw ; 'n . ju.y, and 
 
 E \
 
 54- ZAPIG. 
 
 nobody made him any anlwer. During the night frefh 
 plunder had been brought in, and they were employed 
 in dividing the i'poil. All he could obtain in this 
 tumultuous confunon, was the permifiion to depart ; 
 of which he took advantage without delay, and left 
 the cr.ftle of Arbogad more overwhelmed with grief 
 and deep r^fleftion than he had ever yet been. 
 
 Zadig proceeded on his way greatly agitated and 
 difturbed : his thoughts were wholly employed on the 
 unhappy Aitarte ; on the king of Babylon ; on hi.* 
 faithful friend Cador ; on Arbogad, the happy rob- 
 ber ; on the capricious female whom the Babylonians 
 had feiz.d on the confines of Egypt ; and, in ihort, 
 on all the misfortunes, he had ever experienced. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 Ike Yifberman. 
 
 WHEN Zadig had travelled fome few leagues 
 from the caftle of Arbogad, he approached 
 the banks of a fmall river, (till lamenting his un- 
 happy fate, and confidering himfelf as the moft un T 
 fortunate man txitHng. He there beheld a fifher- 
 man lying by the water-fide, who was fcarce able 
 to held, with his weak and trembling hand, a net 
 which he Itemed little to regard ; and railing up 
 his eyes towards heaven ' I am certainly the moft 
 miserable wretch alive!' laid the fimerman: ' I have 
 been, in the opinion of every one, the moft fa- 
 mous dealer in cream-cheele in all Babylon, and 
 yet I am ruined. I had the moft beautiful wife 
 that a man in my ftatipn could wifh ; and by her 
 I have been cruelly forfaken. There ftill remained 
 my poor houfe; but even that I have ieen pil- 
 laged and deftroyed. I have taken fhelter in a 
 cabin ; I have no other resource befides fifhing, 
 and yet I cannot catch a fingle fim. O my net ! 
 I will no more throw thee into the water; it is 
 myfclf I will throw into it.' On uttering thefe
 
 ~;G. 55 
 
 words, he aroff, ar i advanced forward, in the 
 ture of a man going to throw liimielf into the liream, 
 in order to put an end to his l.re. ' What,' 
 ' Zadig to himlVb, ' is there a man H. 
 
 died than I ?' His engerncfs to fave the tiih- 
 crman was as hidden as this rtdlrftiou. He ra,i to 
 liim ; (topped him ; and questioned him, with an air 
 of pity and comp-.dlion. We Kern to he Id's un- 
 happy when we have companions in our misfortunes : 
 according to Zoroalter, this is i.ot owing to a ma- 
 lignant difpoiition, but is the effect or a fatal ne- 
 
 ; for we then find ourfclves attached to an 
 unfortunate perfon, as to our own likeneis. The 
 tranijxnts ot the happy would be inmlts ; Init two 
 men in dil:cfs arc l.ke two weak and flendcr trees, 
 which It-aning together, mutually fupp^rt nud for- 
 tify each other agaiuit the itonns tha bbw around 
 them. ' Why,' laid Zadig to the hYiu-nn.m, ' do 
 * you f:nk under \rn\i inisiortuncs ? " Btcaule I 
 f find no means of relief,' replied he. ' I have 
 f bev-n the molt confidt-iaLk p.r>bn in the whole v.l- 
 ' lu~e of Derlback, near Kahylun; and 1 made, by 
 f my wife's afliltanc,e, the bc-it civam-cluele in the 
 ' empire of Periia. Queen Aftaite, and the famous 
 f n.iuiiter Zadig, admired them extremely. I lent 
 f to their houfes fix hundr.-d checfcs, and nni 
 
 to tlie city to be paid ; when I was in- 
 ' fcnr.ed, on my arrival in Babylon, that both the 
 ' queen and Zadig had difapp^p.ivd. I ran to the 
 ' hojie of lord Zadig, whom 1 had never f.-tn, a;vl 
 ' found there the officers of the grand defterham ; 
 ' who, being provided with a royal licence, plun- 
 ' dtred it with gi'eat loyally and order. I then flew 
 ' to the queen's kitcli>.u; \V':KIV ;omc of tfu- kr.ts 
 4 of the mouth told me fne wa> dcnd, othrrs th"t 
 ' Ihc \VP.S in ]>rilbn, and others pretended that flic 
 ' w-)s fled ; but all of them amuvd me th i 
 * cheefts v.-ouid never be piid for. I then \vnt 
 1 v;-v. mv V ..:'L to Lrd Oitiin'o fpr he v. .
 
 56 ZADIG. 
 
 * of my cuftomers and we begged his protection 
 ' in our diftrefs. He readily granted it to my wife, 
 ' but refilled it to me. She was whiter, fir, than 
 ' the cream-chcefes that began my misfortunes ; and 
 ' the bloom of her lovely cheeks was ten times more 
 
 * beautiful than the fineft Tyrian purple : it was 
 ' for this reai'on Orcan detained her, and refufed his 
 ' protection to me. I wrote to my dear wife a let- 
 ' ter of defperation. She laid to the meflcnger 
 " It is vciy well ; I have fome little knowledge of 
 " the writer ; I have heard fpeak of him : they fay 
 " he makes excellent cream-cheeie ; let him bring 
 " me fome, and he fhall be paid." 
 
 ' In the height of my misfortunes, I determined 
 
 ' to fcek redreis in a court of equity : I had but 
 
 ' iix ounces of gold, and it was necelfary for me' to 
 
 ' give two ounces to my counlellor, two to the fo- 
 
 ' iicitor who xmdertook' my affair, and the other two 
 
 ' to the judge's clerk. When all this was done, 
 
 ' my bufineU was not yet began, although I had 
 
 ' expended more money -than my cheefe and my wife 
 
 1 were worth. Notwii hounding this, I returned to 
 
 ' the village, with an intention to fell my houfe, 
 
 ' in order to regain my wife. 
 
 ' My hou.e w.is well worth fixty ounces of goll ; 
 
 * but as my neighbours faw me poor, a)id obliged 
 
 * to 1U1 it, the |iri to whom I addretTed myfelf 
 ' offered me thirty, the fecond twenty, and the third 
 ' ten. At length, whin I was ready to come to 
 c an agreement with one of them, the prince of Hir- 
 ' canla csme to Babylon; and, b.ying walle all be- 
 
 * fore him, my poor houfe, among the reft, was firft 
 ' plundered of every thing valuable, and afterwards 
 f reduced to alhes. 
 
 ' Having thus loft my monty, my wife, and my 
 ' houfe, I retired to the place where you now fee 
 ' me. I have endeavoured to procure n;y lubfift- 
 ' tnce by f.ihir.g; but the fi(h, as well a> all man- 
 < kind, ciei'ert me : 1 fcarce catch one in a day. I
 
 57 
 
 am ready to die wltli hunger; and had it not been 
 ' for your kind interpefition, I mould ere new hav- 
 
 * perifhed in the river.' 
 
 The lifiifrman did not make this lorg recital all 
 at once ; tor Zadig, rrovtd and transported, i 
 moment repeated 4 V.'hat! do you not know what 
 
 * is become of the queen ?' ' No, my lord, repli- 
 
 * ed the fifhcnr.an ; ' but this I know, to iny 
 
 ' that neither the queen nor Zadig have paid ire 
 ' for my cream-chedW : that my wiie is taken fr.;n 
 ' me ; and that I am driven to the very brink of 
 
 * delpnir.' ' I Hatter my i.'. dig, that you 
 will not lofc all your money. I have hev.rd ir.r.c'.i 
 
 * talk of this Zai'Y, ; tluv T y he is an honeii rr.:.n i 
 ' and if he return to Babylon, as it is to be hoped 
 
 * hi- will, no doubt but hr will give yon ev-rn more 
 
 * than he owes. But as for your wite, who does 
 ' not appear to me over honcit, I adule you not 
 < to feek, after htr. Take my advice, aiul make 
 
 * the btft of your way to 15a!>ylon : I (hall be there 
 ' bt fore you, bitaufe I rtip.ll ride, and you \villgo 
 on foot. Adiirds yourfelf to th? illulirious Ca- 
 
 * dor, tell him you have feen his friend, and wait 
 ' for me at his lioufe. Go, follow my direeticns, 
 
 * ;.nd perhaps you may not always be unhappy. 
 
 * O puilfor.t Orofmades! ' continued Zadig, ' thou 
 ' makelt ufe ot me to beflow comtcit en t . s man, 
 ' v horn thou hall ordained to give me ccmtort.' In 
 fpeakir.g thus, he gave to the fifherman half th 
 money he hatt brought from Arabia; and the fim- 
 erman, tranfported with :[;d with amaze- 
 
 irent, kifled the feet of the irjind of Cador, and 
 cric-d out' You irv certainly an angel fent to fave 
 me!* 
 
 Zadig, however, frill continued to make frtfh en- 
 quiries, noi without tears. ' What, my lord,' ci ltd 
 the fifherman, * are you then fo unhappy, who have 
 ' loaded me with benefits ? ' I am an hundred times 
 
 * more unhappy than you,' replied Zadig. 4 But
 
 5? 7.ADIC. 
 
 * how is it poflible,' laid he, f that the perfon who 
 ' gives mould have more caufe for complaint than 
 ' he who receives ?' 
 
 * It is becauie your greateft misfortunes,' returned 
 Zadig, ' arofe from your neceffity, and mine from 
 ' the heart.' 1 ' Has Orcan, then, taken your wife ?' 
 faid the filherman. This laft interrogation recalled 
 to Zadig the remembrance of all his adventures : 
 he repeated the train of his misfortunes, beginning 
 with the queen's dog, and ending with his arrival 
 at the caftle of the robber Arbogad. ' Ah! Maid 
 lie to the fifherman, ' Orcan deferves to be feverely 
 ' punilhedj but it is commonly iuch men as him 
 ' who are the favourites of Fortune. However, go 
 ' to my friend Cador's immediately, and there wait 
 ' forme.' They then feparated : the fifherman walked, 
 thanking Deltiny; and Zadig rode, conltantly accuf- 
 ing the decrees of Fate. 
 
 z 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 The BofiKJk. 
 
 A D I G being arrived in a very beautiful mea- 
 dow, perceived fevcral young Syrian females look- 
 ing in the grafs with great application. He took 
 the liberty to approach one of them, and afked if 
 he might have the honour to aflift them in their fearch. 
 Take care what you do,' replied the fair Afly- 
 rian ; ' what we are fearching for can only be touch- 
 ed by a female.'. ' That is ibmewhat ftrange !' 
 
 aid Zadig : ' may I beg to be informed what this 
 curicfity is that the ladies only are allowed to 
 touch?'" ' It is a bafilifk,' replied me. ' A ba- 
 lililk, fair one ! For what reafon, pray, do you 
 feek for a bafiliflc ?' ' It is,' faid me, ' for our 
 lord and mafter Ogul, whole caftle you fee on the 
 banks of that river at the end of the meadow : 
 we are all his moft humble flaves. The lord Ogul 
 is fick j and his phyfician has ordered him to eat
 
 59 
 
 a bafilifk ftewed in rofe-water. As this is a very 
 fcarce animal, and will fufftr nothing to approach 
 it but one of our lex, the lord Ogul has pro- 
 mifed to chule for his well-belovc.l wire her who 
 firit brings him a bafiliflc. Do not, therefore, longer 
 detain me from the fctrch, fir.ce y m Ice wh.st I 
 fliall lofe if I am circumvented by my compa- 
 nions.' 
 
 Zadig then withdrew, and left the Syrian ladies 
 in fearc.i of their imaginary booty, in order to pur- 
 lue his intended journey. But when he cime to the 
 banks of a rivukt' at the remoteft part oftlu: mea- 
 dow, he perceived another femr.le lying on the grafs, 
 \vho was not employed in fceking for any thing. 
 Her Mature feemed majeftick, but her face was co- 
 vered with a veil. She was leaning towards the brook, 
 and profound fighs iflued from her mouth. She held 
 in her hand a fmall wand, with which (he triced 
 characters on a fine fand that lay between the turf 
 and the brook. Zadig had the curiofi'y to draw near, 
 in order to discover what this laxly was writing. lie 
 approiched her ; he law the letter Z ; then an A ; 
 he was aftoniihcd: then appeared a D ; he darted. 
 Never was lurprize equal to his, when he faw the 
 tsvo lalt letters of his name. He ftood for Ibmr time 
 immoveable : at lift breaking filence, with :i i ".iKr- 
 ing voice ' O generous Luty !' cried h. , ' ."< rgive 
 ' a Itranger, an unfortunate man, who pivfumcs to 
 ' aflc by what a',toni(hing adventure he hn.ls lu-rj the 
 ' name of Zadig traced cut by fo lovely a hand ?' 
 At this voice, and at thdc words, the lady arofe; 
 and with a trembling hand pulled up her veil, looked 
 at Zadig, call forth a cry of tendernefs, furprizc, 
 and joy; and, finking under the variou* emotion* 
 which at the lame inftant agitated her loul, fell iem'e- 
 lefs into his arms. It was Aitarte herfelf; 'r 
 the queen of Babylon ; it was (he \vh 
 adored, and had reproached himfelf for adori: 
 was flis whom he had fo deeply lamentc.
 
 60 ZAPIG. 
 
 viiofe fate he had been under fucb dreadful appre- 
 hensions ! He was for a moment deprived of the ufe 
 of his ienles ; while his eyes were fixed on the lovely 
 Aftarte, who now began to revive, and gazed on 
 h',m with looks of the fweetert confufion and ten- 
 d;rnefs. ' O ye immortal powers !' cried he, ' who 
 * preiide over the deftiny of feehie mortals ; have ye 
 ' indeed re Stored Aitarte to me ! How Grange the 
 ' time, the place, the ftate, in which I lee her '.* 
 He then threw bimfelf on his knees before htr, and 
 laid his forehead auidft the duft of her feet; but 
 the queen railed him up, and made him fit near 
 her on the bank cf the rivulet. She often wiped 
 away the tears from her eyes, which as often were re- 
 newed by her grief j and more than twenty times re- 
 lumed her difccurie, which was fo frequently inter- 
 rupted by lur ilghs. She enquired by what accident 
 they were brought together, and fuddenly prevented 
 his anfwv.r by new quelticns. She put a flop to the 
 ivcital of her own misfortunes, and would know thofe 
 cf Zadig. In fiiort, both having a little appeafed the 
 tumult of their fouls, Zadig related in a few words 
 the motives that had brought him thither. ' But tell 
 4 me, O unhappy bxit ever worthy quren !' cried he, 
 ' by what means is it that I find you in this folitary 
 ' place, cloathed in this fcrvile uianner, and accompa- 
 ' nied by other female /laves, who are in fearch of a 
 ' bafilisk ; which I find is, by the order of a phyfici- 
 ' an, to be (tewed in roic -water, as a fpecifick for his 
 ' dying patient ?' 
 
 ' While they are bufied in the fruitlefs fearch,' faid 
 the bv.h- Ai'.-.r.-e, ' 1 will acquaint yen with what I 
 ' hive: fufF=red iince laft I faw you ; for which heaven 
 ' has indeed lu'.-Xie.itly rccompenl'cd me, by permitting 
 ' me to iLe you agiin. 
 
 ' Y"ou know the king my hufband was difpleafad at 
 c your being the molt amiable of all mankind, and 
 ' that f;;-r this rc^ll-n he took the reP.lution to have 
 ' ycu li.'/.r.oicd, unJ to pcli';:. rr.e. V->u k:;ov>-, liks-
 
 2ADIG. 6l 
 
 wife, hew heaven perm' !e mute to infcrm 
 
 me of the order given hy his mblime majefly. 
 ' Scarce had the faithful Cador obliged you to com- 
 ply with my requeft, and depart, than he ventured 
 t<> enter my apartment ct midr.i^ht, hy a fccret paf- 
 f.'gc, and conveyed mr to the temple of Cvofmades ; 
 where th-: magi his brother Gmt me up i.i that huge 
 llatue, whole bafe reaches to the fcr.nd ;tion of the 
 head rifes to the toj> of the dome. 
 There ! r buried, i'i 
 
 time; but wr.s en: 
 
 every neu'iiry, hy tluu venerable and loyal prieft. 
 In the mean time, the king's apothecary enured my 
 chamber by break of day, with a poticn in his hand, 
 compoied of lu-nbane, opium, hi . !-; lule- 
 
 bore, ami aconite ; and another officer svcnt to yours, 
 with a lilk bowllring. Our fiight had, however, 
 h .;<p : !v firuftrated thi'r ('thins. Th.-n Cad-u, r!..- 
 hetttr to deceive the king, anced to acciuc us botii, 
 and i; : a had taken the road to 
 
 the Indies, and that I v.-is flrd to Memphis: on 
 which the guards were invnediittly dl., 
 both <-: 
 
 ' The ci ur:ers who \ .rch of me, knew 
 
 notlung of my features ; for, by the king's expref* 
 orders, 1 had hardly <-v.r f.rjwn my face to any be- 
 lides yourlelf. T!K-V followed the purluit, en the 
 dcicription that had heai given them of my ; 
 till a woman of th-.- ih.r.r It r\:; , : , 
 
 > had more ch:r ::iemon 
 
 the frontiers of I - found alorc, aivl 
 
 in a very diiconfolate c. 
 
 no doubt but that this woman was the qutcn 
 bylon, and acccnlingly " . . Their 
 
 mifUke at firft threw the king into a . 
 but, h.. ire attentively, h 
 
 lu-r extremely beautiful, r.nd 1 : 
 T!;ij hi'.yv/as called MifTjuf ; ujjJ I h^.ve L:\ 
 F
 
 6l ZADIG. 
 
 informed tint her name, in the Egyptian tongue, 
 fignifics the capricious fair one : a title to which me 
 certainly was well entitled. She had, however, as 
 much art as caprice. She pleafed Moabdar, and 
 had fufficient influence over him to make him chuie 
 her for his wife. She then began to unfold her n.-ul- 
 chara&er, and gave herfelf up to all the famafticnl 
 whims of her vain imagination : (he endeavoured to 
 oblige the chief of the msgi, who was old, and 
 troubled with the gout, to dance before her j and, on 
 his refuikl, me made him fuffer the efrecls of her re- 
 fentment. She ordered her matter of the horle to 
 make her a pye of tweetmeats : the mafter of t!w 
 hori'e wifely repreiented that he was not a paflry- 
 cook ; but his making the pye was an affair of great 
 importance, and me degraded him from his office, 
 for being too obtKnate. She gave the poft of mailer 
 of the liorfe to her dwarf, and the place of chancel- 
 lor to a page. In this manner did me govern Baby- 
 len. Every body regretted the lofs of me. The 
 king, who had behaved with great uprig'htnef.s, 
 till the moment he relblved to poiibn me, and came 
 you to be ftrangled, icemed to have drowned his vir- 
 tues in the prodigious fondnefs he had diicovcred for 
 the capricious fair. He came to the temple on the 
 iblcmn feftival of the facred fire ; and I faw him im- 
 plore the gods in behalf of Miflbuf, at the feet of 
 the ftatue in which I was inclofed. I then raifed my 
 voice, and cried out " The gods refufe to liften to 
 ' the vows of a king, who is become a tyrant j who 
 ' has fought the life of his innocent confort ; and has 
 ' fufFored one to fupply her place, who is diftinguimed 
 ' only by her folly." At thefe words Moabdar was 
 confounded, and his head became difordered. The 
 oracle I had pronounced, and the behaviour of Mif- 
 fouf, difturbed his judgment, and in a few days his 
 reafon entirely forfook him. 
 
 ' His madntrts, which feemed a chaftifement from 
 * heaven, was as the fignal of a revolt. The people
 
 7ADIG. 6} 
 
 arofe ; they ran to arms ; and Babylon, that had Ib 
 long indulged herfelf in indolence and cafe, became 
 the feat of a dreadful civil war. I was now taken 
 from the hollow of the ftatue, and placed at the head 
 of a party ; and Cador haded to Memphis, that he 
 might bring you back to Babylon. 'I he prince of 
 Hircania, hearing of thefe fatal contefts, came with 
 his army, ancl made a third party in Chaldea. He 
 attacked the king, who fled before him with his ca- 
 pricious\ Egyptian. Moabdar was lo cloiely pn - 
 lued, that he died of the wounds he received in his 
 retreat, and Miflbuf till into tfye hands of the con- 
 queror. I my felt had the misfortune to be taken r-y 
 a party of Hhc^nians, an! was led to the prir.ce, at 
 the vuy inltant when Miflbuf \v?.s brought before 
 him. Your vinity will peihips be flattered, \>y 
 lerrning that the prince elteemed me more beautiful 
 than the Egyptian : but you wift no doubt be af- 
 flifted to hear that he deitined me for his fcraglio. 
 He f 1.1 me, with great relblution, thnt, as foon as 
 he Ivid completed a military expedition which he 
 was going to perform, he wniKl h jr.i ur me with a 
 vilit. Figure to youriclf what \v.-s th<n my grief ! 
 The bends which had bound me to Moabdar were 
 broken 5 I had the opportunity of l.eir.g the bride of 
 Zadig, and was fallen into thi povti ci a bar 
 I anlwcred hinj with all the pride that fprroijEEnom 
 my rank and lofty Sentiments ; hiving been always 
 told that heaven bcftcwed on pcrlbr.s, like me, liith 
 peculiar marks cf giar.dcur, as, with a word or 
 glance, reduced to the lowiinels of the moft profound 
 humility thole rafli perlbns who dared to fwcrve from 
 their duty. I fpoke like a queen ; but was Heated 
 like the moft fervile domeitick. The Hircahian, 
 without even condefcending to addi-efs himlclf to me, 
 turned to his black tunuch, and told him that I wai 
 impertinent, hut he thought me handibme. He or- 
 i!iT.u him to take care or me, and to put me under 
 
 F 2
 
 -V ZADIG. 
 
 the r?g:men of his favourites, to the end that, iny 
 
 colon '.tightened, I might be rendered more 
 
 vovus, on the day in which he mould 
 
 to li'."ii.>ur me. I tcld him, that I would 
 
 frit put a period to my exiftence : he replied, laugh - 
 
 as a bLffing too valuable to be thrown 
 
 ; and that he was prepared for luch fpeechcs. 
 
 He then left me, with the negligence of a perlbn 
 
 who had juft put tsp a parrot in its glided cage. 
 t a ftate was this for the firft queen of the uni- 
 
 verfe ! and, what is more, for a heart devoted to 
 
 ZruligP 
 
 At thefe endearing expreflions Zadig proftrated him- 
 felf before the queen, and bathed her feet with his 
 tears : whtn Aftsrte tenderly railed him up, and pro- 
 ceeded thus ' I found myielf in the power of a bar- 
 ' bnrian, and the rival of a filly coquette with whom I 
 ' was confined. She related to me her adventure in 
 ' Egyp* ; and I judged by the lineaments fhe painted, 
 ' by the time, by the dromedary on which you wr.s 
 ' mounted, and by every chcumltance, that Zadig had 
 ' fought for her. I did not doubt of your being at 
 ' Memphis, and therefore took the resolution to retire 
 ' thither. " Beautiful Miflbuf !" laid I, " you are 
 " much more agreeable than me; much better will 
 " you divert the prince of Hircania : facilitate as 
 " much as poflible the means of my eicapc, you will 
 " then reign alone ; and, while you render me happy, 
 " will at the fame time free yourfelf from the f.ar 
 " of a rival," Mifibuf lifieneti to my requeft ; (he 
 ' joined with me in concerting the means of my flight ; 
 
 * and I fecretly departed with an l!<j;yp>kin (lave. 
 
 c No fooner had we reached the borders ot Arabia, 
 ' than a fanv.us robber, named Arbogad, feized upon 
 ' me, and fold me to fome merchants, who brought 
 ' me to this c;.!t!e, the abode of the lord Ogul, where 
 ' I was purchaied without being known. He is a 
 ' man who delights in yoluptuouthefs ; feeks for no- 
 
 * thir.g but to gratify his appetites j and believes the
 
 2AD1C. 6c 
 
 Almighty has fent him into the world merely to fit 
 at table. He is exceflively corpulent, and in conti- 
 nual danger of iutfbcation. His phyfician, whom he 
 hut little regards when he has a good digeftion, go- 
 verns him, when he has eat too much, with the moft 
 dt-lpotick fway. He has perfuadtd him at prefent 
 that his life is in danger, and nothing can cure him 
 but a baliliik !tewed in rofe -water : the lord Ogul 
 has therefore promifed his hand to the female flave 
 who firft brings him a baiilifk. You fee I have left 
 them to obtain this honour ; and I never had lefs deliir 
 to find the bnlililk, than fince heaven has pennitted 
 me to fee you again.' 
 
 After this declaration, they gave utterance to thofe 
 tender fenlations that had been ib long fmothered, and 
 laid ll that love and misfortunes can inipire in hearts 
 the moft noble and pamonate ; while the Genii who 
 prefide over love wafted their mutual vows of eternal 
 conitancy and truth even to the fphere of Venus. 
 
 The whole train of (laves, after a long and fruitlefs 
 fearch, returned to Ogul ; when Zadig prefented him- 
 fejf before him, and ipoke to this effect' May im- 
 mortal health defrend from heaven to preferve a life 
 ib precious as yours ! I am a phyiician, and have 
 halted hither, at the report of your ficknds, with a 
 baiiiilk (tewed in ro.e-water. As I can have no 
 benefit of the high revffcrd you have offered, in cafe 
 my application lucceeds, I only Jefire the liberty of 
 a young Babylonian Have you have for fomi 
 had in your poffdlion ; and I content to remain in 
 ' flavery in her place, if I am not fo happy as to reftore 
 * tlie magnificent and illultrious lord Ogul to his 
 ' former health and vigour.' 
 
 The proposal was accepted immediately, and Artarte 
 fet out for B;thylon ; promiling fpeediiy to fend a c u- 
 rier to inforni Zaiti^ of all that mould ! 
 Their parting was as their meeting h'id been. The 
 mpment in which we meet, and in which we leparate, 
 F 3
 
 66 7AD1G. 
 
 are (as It is written in the Sacred bcok of Zend) the 
 two moft remarkable epochas of life. Zadig" s love 
 for the queen equalled his proteftatior.s ; and the 
 queen's love for Zadig was much gieater than her 
 words exprelTed. 
 
 In the mean time, Zadig {poke thus to Ogul ' My. 
 lord, my bafiiiik is not to be eaten } all its virtues, 
 mult penetrate through the pores. I have put it in 
 a little ball, blown up and covered with a fine ikin : 
 you muft ftrike it with ail your ftrength; and I muft 
 ftrike it back for ibme time. When you have for a 
 few days practifed this regimen, the effecls of my 
 art will- be perceived.' On the firft day Ogul was 
 quite fatigued, and imagined he could not iurvive 5 on 
 the lecond he was lets tired, and flept better ; in eight 
 days he recovered all the ftrength, health, activity, and 
 vigour, of hi* moft agreeable years. ' You Inve 
 played at ball and been moderate,' laid Zadig. 
 Know, then, that there is no iuch creature on earth 
 c as a bafilisk ; that exei cife and temperance sre friends 
 to health ; and that the art of making health and 
 intemperance lubfift together, is as chimerical as 
 judicial aftrolcgy, or the philofop'ier's ftone.' 
 O^ail's former phyfician now perceiving how dan- 
 gerous this man was to the caule of phyfick, raift-d a 
 party ainongft his dependants in order to deltroy him ; 
 but, while they were collecting the dei'truJlion of 
 Zadig, he received a couritr from queen Altarte. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 The Tcurnamznt*. 
 
 THE q\'een was received at Babylon with all thore 
 tranfports which are uiually felt in favour of 
 injured beauty. Babylon was at this time pertstlly 
 quiet and ferene. The prince of Hircania hr.d been 
 flain in battle ; and the Babylonians being conquerors, 
 declared that Aftarte fhould marry him whom they 
 $iould chule for their fovereign. They would not
 
 ZADIO. (f 
 
 have the firft office in the world, that of hufcand to 
 Aftai te, and King cf Babylon, depend on ir, \ 
 and cabals j they therefore fwore to acknowled. 
 their king only him who was moft valiant and pcfll-fled 
 of the great eft wiidom. The lifts were marked cut at 
 fome leagues from the city, and furrounded by a mag- 
 nificent amphitheatre. The combatants were to re- 
 pair thither completely armed, and each had behind 
 the amphitheatre a feparate apartment, where he \\:u 
 neither to be feen nor known by any one. He \va$ 
 iuccelfively to encounter four knights j and thofe who 
 were fo happy as to conquer that number* were after- 
 wards to engage againlt each other, in luch a manner 
 as that he who remained the laft mailer of the field 
 fliculd be proclaimed conqueror at the games. 
 
 Four days after, he was to return with the fame 
 arms, and to explain. fuch enigmas as the magi mould 
 propofe j and, if he did not explain them, he was not 
 to be king. The running at the lances was then to 
 begin again, till a man mould be found who was con-, 
 queror at both thefe combats ; for they were refolutcly 
 bent on having a king pofiefied of the greateft valour 
 and the molt confuramate- vvifdom. During all this 
 time the queen was to be clofcly guarded, and only 
 permitted to be a diltant fpectator of the games, co- 
 vered with a veil j but they would not allow her to 
 rpeak to any of the competitors, that they might have 
 neither favour nor injulHce. 
 
 Aftarte made known to her lover the preliminary 
 articles above mentioned, not doubting but he would 
 i\i^\\ himfclf, in fuch a car . to evriy other 
 
 porfon both in valour and wifdom. Z ingly 
 
 let out for Babylon; and In-fought Venus to 1< 
 iiis courage, and illuminate his undcrftanding, on this 
 very important occafion. 
 
 He arrived on the banks of the Euphrates on the 
 eve of this great day, and caufed his device to be in- 
 fcribed among thofe of the combatants, conceal!;
 
 face and name, as the law required, and then went to 
 rep.oie himleli'in the apartment allotted him. 
 
 His friend Cador, who was returned to Babylon, 
 after having in vain fought for hint in Egypt, lent to 
 his lodge a complete luit of armour, presented him by 
 the queen, a rut alib from himfclf the fineft horfe in 
 Pcrfia. Zauig attributed thcle presents to Aftarte ; 
 and from this confideration his courage and his. love 
 derived frefli ftrength, and his mind was inipired with 
 new hopes. 
 
 The next morning the queen having placed herfelf 
 under a canopy i'parkling with jewels, and the amphi- 
 theatre being rilled with all the ladies, and with people 
 of every liation in Babylon, the combatants appeared 
 in the circus. Each of them came and laid his de- 
 vice at the feet of the grand magi ; with thefe de- 
 vices they drew lofs, and that of Zadig was the 
 la t. Tiu- r.r.t who ad.ar.ced, was a lord ot great 
 wealth, named Itobad ; he was filled with vanity, 
 hail liitle courage, was extremely auk ward, and al- 
 iru'.t void of understanding. His paraliites had per- 
 lV.;d-..-d h'in that fuch a man as he ought to be a king ; 
 he had anlW'x-J them ' Such a arm as me ought 
 ' to reign. 1 They had therefore armed him from head 
 to foot. His armour was pure geld covered with green 
 enamel; he had a plume of green feathers, and a lance 
 adorned with gitx-n ribbands. It was quickly per- 
 ceived, by the manner in which Itobad governed his 
 hcrfe, that i: was not for luch a man as him that 
 h-raven had deitinol the fceptre of Babylon. The 
 firll knight who tilted with him, drove him out of 
 iu laddie; the fecond threw him backwards over the 
 horle's crupper, v.ith his legs in the air, and his 
 arms extended. He foon recovered himielf, however, 
 but with ib ill a grace, tint all the amphitheatre 
 laughed luartily. A tliird disdained to ufe his lance 
 again* iirn, but making a feigned pals, took hun, 
 by the right K-g, and turning him hair", round, thaw 
 }j:in up..-:: ;:- :.uid. The iq'.iircs \vho attended v a ft
 
 ZADIC. 69 
 
 hughing to his afliftance, and replaced him in his 
 fuidie. The fourth knight then caught him by the 
 ittt Itg, and threw him off on the other lid..-. 
 ttr this, he was conveyed with fcornful fhouts from 
 tlie multitude to his lodge, where, according to the 
 rule prefcribcd, he was obliged to pals the nijjht ; and, 
 as he hobbled with great difficulty along ' What an 
 ' adventure,' fighed he, * is this, for luch a man as 
 ' nicT 
 
 The other knights performed their duty much bet- 
 ter. There were thole who conquered two comba- 
 tar.ts one after another ; Ibme proccedi-d even to three: 
 none, however, but Prince Otamus, vanquiflied four. 
 X:ulig, at laft, entered the lifts, and fucc.lfively t 
 four kniglits out of their faddles with tiie molt grace- 
 ful ea!c imaginable. It now remained to be trie-1 
 whether Otainns or Zadig mould be conqut:ior. The 
 armour of the firit was blue and gold, with a plume 
 of the lame colours j Zadig's were white. The willies 
 of the multitude were divided between the blue knight 
 and the white. The queen, whole heart fuQered the 
 moft violent palpitations, fervently petitioned !. 
 in behalf of the white. 
 
 The two champions made their pruTes and volts 
 with fiich agility, they mutually gave and m 
 fuch Hiocks from each other's lances, and fat fo fimily 
 in their faddles, that every one but the queen v 
 to have two kings in Babylon. At laft, their horfes 
 being weary, and their lances broken, Zadig made 
 nle of this Itratagcm ; he pafll'd artfully behind his 
 antagonist, loiuiig nimbly upon his horle, Itized the 
 knight in his arms, threw him to the earth, and 
 placing himfclf on the faddle, wheeled about Otamus, 
 who lay extended in the duft. All the fpeftators cried 
 out with loud acclamations Viftor) to the white 
 knight!' Otamus, highly enraged, uiole and drew 
 his lA-oril, and Zidig leaped from his horle with hi* 
 fabre in his hand. They were now both on the ground, 
 fcsigag.d in a new combat, where Itrength and agility
 
 70 ZADIG. 
 
 triumphed by turns. The plumes of their helmets, 
 the lluds of their braflarts, and the rings of which 
 their armour was ccmpoled, flew afar off, by the force 
 of a thbufand precipitate blows. They fometimts 
 ftruck at each other with their 1 words, at ether times 
 they thruft, as occafion bed ferved ; now on the right, 
 then on the left ; now ou the head, then at the brcait : 
 they retreated, they advanced ; they kept :t a diftance, 
 they clofed again ; they grappled with each other, 
 twining themlelves like ferutnts j in fhort, they ftrug- 
 gled and engaged as fiercely as two Lybian lions 
 righting for their prey, and their Iwords ftruck fire 
 almcit at every blow. At latt Zadig for a moment 
 flood {till, and having in an inftant recovered his breath, 
 made a falfe pafs at the prince, threw him on the 
 ground, and diiarmed him. Otamus then cried out 
 -' O thou knight in white armour ! it is you alone 
 ' who are deftined to reign over Babylon.' The queen 
 was tranfported with joy. The knight in blue ar- 
 mour, and the knight in white, were each conducted 
 to their ledges, in conformity to the rules prescribed, 
 and they were waited on by mutes, \vho carried them 
 proper retremments. It is eafy to imagine that the 
 queen's dw.irt was appointed to wait on Zadig. Af- 
 ter fupper the mutes withdrew, and left the comba- 
 tants to reft their wearied limbs till the next morn- 
 ing, when the congueror was to produce his device 
 before the grand magi, to compare it, and to make 
 himlelf known. 
 
 Zadig flcpt pretty found, notwithftanding his af- 
 fection for the queen, fo much was he fatigued : 
 but Itobad, who by near him, could not once clofe 
 his eyes ; he arofe therefore during the night, en- 
 tered Zadig's lodge, took his white armour and de- 
 vice, put his green armour in their place, and at 
 day-break went boldly to the grand magi, to de- 
 clare himfelf the mighty hero, the thrice happy con- 
 queror. It is true, no one expecled to ll-e him the 
 viflorj he was, however, proclaimed, while Zadi<j
 
 ZADIC. 7* 
 
 ;?:!! flept. Aftarte, aftoniftied, and with her heart 
 filled with defpair, returned to Babylon. When Za- 
 dig awoke, the amphitherurr wjs almoft empty; he 
 fought for his arms, but finding none but th_- green, 
 he was oblige! to cover hlmfclf with them, bccaufe 
 he had nothing ci.c n^-ar him : confounded and en- 
 raged, he p'ut them on, and went forth in this equi- 
 page. 
 
 ThoTe who ftill remained in the circus, now received 
 him with hooting* ; they furroundei him, and inlultcd 
 him to his face : n^+r n.:m iutfercd inch humbling 
 mortifications. At length, his patience forfook. him j 
 he diipiii'ed, by ftriking widi his fabre, the popul .ce 
 \vlio dared to affront him ; but he knew not what 
 meafurcs to puri'iie", or : ify the miftake. He 
 
 could not fee the queen, nor could he reclaim the white 
 armour ihe had lent him, without expofmg her : thuj, 
 while plunged in grief, he was filled with rage and 
 inquietude. He walked on the banks of the Euphra- 
 tes, fully perfuaJed that Fate had dcftined him to be 
 irremediably wretched, and revolving in his mind all 
 his misfortunes, from the adventure of. the damfcl who 
 h id an avevlion to cne- to that by which he 
 
 h:id loft his armour. u This 1m happened,' laid he, 
 from my having awaked too Inte. Had I flept kf, 
 I mould not only liave been king of Babylon, but 
 fliould alfo have been completely happy in the em- 
 braces of my one. fhr vaii knowledg-.- 
 of the fcicnces, the fine .-re love of vii fjc, and tae 
 perfonal :id courage I can boalt, have an- 
 i\Vv-ri.\'i no other purpofe than involving me in mii- 
 fortuncs.' He at lall pieiumed to murir.ur at the 
 uneq'.r.'.l dilpenfation of Divine Providence: and was 
 tempted to b.-lieve that nil occurrences were governed 
 by a cnu-1 lioiliny. \\-iiich cppreflTcd the good, anJ. 
 
 1 :o knights in green armour. Or 
 his vexation was, his wiring the- veiy green a; 
 which, had drawn on him fuch dilgrace; and a mrr- 
 choat bappeaing to pals by, exchanged it for a rob
 
 71 7ADIG. 
 
 and bonnet. In this drei's he walked along the banlvs 
 of the Euphrates, filled with the .deepeft delpair, and 
 iecretly accufing Providence for involving- him in lb 
 many afflictions. 
 
 CHAP XVII. 
 
 The Hermit. 
 
 "VT7"HILE Zadig was thus rambling, he met a.hermif, 
 whole white and venerable board dclccnded evtu 
 to his girdle, and who held in his hand a book' 'lieii 
 he Teemed to read with much'Uttention. Zad;. Ap- 
 proached him with a moft profound obeft'ance, :r... 
 hermit returned his falure with an air ib noble and be- 
 )i"ficent, that he had the curiotity to converie with him. 
 He aiktd ot the venerable itraiig't-r the fuhjec.1 ot the 
 book he was reading; who informed him, it was the 
 Book ot Fate ; and demanding if he wiflucl to penile it, 
 put the book into his hands. Zadig, notwithihml;:)^ 
 he was vcrlt-d in many languages, could net explain a 
 lingle characltr ; this Itill more increaled his cnriolity. 
 * You apfK.-ir ro me much dilhnbed,' f^id the food 
 father. ' Alas! 1 hive hut too much reafon to be lb,* 
 laid Zadig. ' If you permit me to accompany you,' 
 replied the hermit, ' perhaps I may be of fei vice to 
 you ; for I have lomefimts pouivd the balm ot conlb- 
 Ution into the fonls of the unhappy. 1 The air, the 
 beard, and the book of the hermit, filled Zadig with 
 thf eiTr,r v -(t nfpeft for this venerable ftranger, wholi.' 
 c-*ii\- r r nticrs difi'i'ltd a 1'uperior and fob-lime knowledge 
 into his foul. He diirourfed of dfltinv, of juftice, of 
 i>- --K, of the fovf reign good, of human frailty, and 
 o l virtues and vices, with fuch a li\\ \\ and periuaiivc 
 elocxienc , thai Zndig frit himfelf attached to his ptr- 
 J<;n bv -!- i'r-i"';ih!p cliaim, and ean-.eftiy entreated the 
 v n rabli- iTirr-'' not to leave him tiVi tltcy returned to 
 B;:by!r.r,. ' i m) lelf tit-fire this favour,' (aid the old 
 man : ' ivvcar !-y Orolinades, that whatevti I do, you
 
 7ADIC7. 7* 
 
 * will not leave me for Tome clays at leaft.' Zadig fig- 
 nifird his aflent, and they let out together- 
 
 The two travellers arrived that evening at a fuperb 
 cnftle, when the hermit begged an hofpi table reception 
 for himfelf and the young man who accompanied him. 
 The porter, who might have been taken for a great 
 lonJ, introduced them with a kind of difdainful good- 
 net's ; and they were conducted to a principal domeftic,. 
 who (hewed them the magnificent apartments of his 
 mailer. They were admitted to the lower end of his 
 i ''" vhhout being honoured by the lord of the caftle 
 e leaft notice ; but were ferved with the fame 
 dci -V and profufion as the reft of his guefts. After 
 fupper, water was brought them to wafh, in a gold 
 bafon adorned with rubies and emeralds ; and they were 
 then conducted to an apartment richly fumifheid, in 
 which they took their reft. When they arofe in the 
 morning, a fervant prefented to each a piece of gold, 
 and they proceeded on their way. 
 
 The lord of this caftle,' laid Zadi, as they- pa.Ted 
 along, appears to me a very hospitable man, though 
 fomewhat too haughty.' While he uttered thcfe 
 words, he took notice that the hermit's pocket, though 
 very lar^e, was confiderably extended, and foon per- 
 ceived that this appearance was occafioned by the golden 
 bafon which his fellow traveller had ftolen. He wa* 
 afraid to mention what he faw, but the thoughts of it 
 g.u-e him much concern. About noon, ; 
 ii ....I More the door of a little cottage, the reikk. 
 a rich miu-r, and ik-tircd they might rtfrcfli then- 
 f,>r a few hours; when nn old fervant, ill c 
 them in with a vifible reluctance, and condufL 
 hermit and Zsdig into a ftable, where he g avt 
 fome rotten olives, bad bread, ami four beer. The 
 hmpit eat and drank with as cm'ented an air as he had 
 lie preceding evening : then add reding himfelf to 
 the old Servant, who carefully watched them bo 
 ice that they Hole nothing, and often reminded them 
 that the day' was declining apace, he gave him the tw 
 G
 
 74 7ADIC, 
 
 pieces of gold he had received in the morning, and 
 thanked him for his relpeclfid behaviour. * Pray,' 
 added he, ' permit me to fpeak to your mafter.' The 
 itrvant, filled with alionilhment, introduced the two 
 travellers. ' Munificent lord !' laid the hermit, f I 
 
 * cannot but render you my molt humble thanks for 
 
 * the friendly -manner in which you have received us : 
 
 * be pltaled to accept this golden baibn, as a fmall 
 ' teftimony of my gratitude/ The miier darted, and 
 was ready to fall to the earth ; the hermit, however, 
 did not give him time to recover from his i'uiprize, but 
 inltantly departed with his young traveller. * Father,' 1 
 laid Zadig, * what is the meaning of all I have 1'ctn ? 
 ' In nothing do you appear to reiunble other men : you 
 
 * have ilole a gold balbn fet with precious Itoiks from 
 
 * a lord who entertained us magnificently, and have 
 ' given it to a fordid wretch who treated you with the 
 
 * greateft indignity.'-' My fon,' replied the hermit, 
 ' that magnificent perfonage, who entertains firangcrs 
 ' with no other view than to gratify his pride, and 
 raife their allonifhment at the richnefs of his fumi- 
 
 * ture, will become more wife for the future ; and the 
 
 * miier will henceforth learn better to exercile the duties 
 
 * of hofpitality. Be aft on ifhed at nothing; but follow 
 
 * me.* Zadig was not yet certain whether his compa- 
 nion was the fillieft perfon in the world, or one who 
 furpafiol all mankind in vvifdom and difcernment : 
 but the hermit fpoke with fuch authority, that Zadig, 
 not to mention his oath, could not help following 
 him. 
 
 At night they arrived at a houfe veiy commodioufly 
 built, though with great iimplicity, and without the 
 teaft appearar.ce either of prodigality or avarice. The 
 CTalkr was a philofopher, who had retired from the 
 world, that he might cultivate in p^-ace his improve- 
 ment in vvifdom and virtue. In this retreat he received 
 itrangers with great cordiality, but without any often- 
 tation., He went himfelf to introduce the t\vo travellers, 
 and kd tlxt in to a commodious apaitment, where he
 
 7ADIO. 75 
 
 de fired they would reft them (ekes. Some time after, 
 he came himftlf to invite them to a frugal, but gmiteel 
 repart ; during which he talked very intelligently about 
 the late revolutions in Babylon. He appeared lin- 
 eercly attached to the quren", ami wifhed that Zadig 
 had appeared in the lifts to difpute the crown : But 
 ' the people,' added he, * do not deferve to have a king 
 ' like Zadi. 1 A mcxtcft bk 
 
 like Zadig. 1 A mcxtcft bkfli dirFuled ititlf over the 
 cheeks of Zadig at this unexpected compliment, which 
 not only renewed, but redoubled the keen fenfe of his 
 misfortunes. It was agreed that the affairs of this world 
 are not always conducted fo as to pleafe the wife : but 
 the hermit fteadily maintained, that the ways of Pro. 
 Tidence were unknown; and that men were to blame to 
 judge of the whole, when they perceived only the 
 final left part. 
 
 The next topic of their difcourfe was that of the 
 paffions. Alas!' faid Zadig, ' how fatal are their 
 effects !*---* They are the winds which fwell the fails 
 of the veffe!/ returned the hermit. * Sometimes, it 
 is true, they fink it ; but there is no failing without 
 ' them. The bile renders us fick and choleric, but 
 ' is yet neceflary for the iupport of life: thus evtrjr 
 
 * thing below is dangerous, yet ftill every thing is ne- 
 ' ceffary. 
 
 They then difcourfed of pleafures,-and the hermit de- 
 momtrated that they were the giffs of Heaven. ' Man,* 
 laid he, can give himfelf neither ienfations nor ideas, 
 
 * he receives them all ; his pain and pleafure are ' 
 
 * fore derived from the lame fource as liis being." 
 Zadig wa> aftonifhed, that a man who had com- 
 
 mitted fudi bate actions mould be able to reafon ib well. 
 At length, after a converlntion, as inltructive as it 
 was agreeable, their hoft led the two ftrangcrs back 
 to 'h^ir apartment, blelfing Hc-avtn for having lint him 
 two men ib wife and fo virtuous. He offend them 
 money in fo free a manner, that it was impolfible they 
 could be difplealed. The hermit refufed it, and laid 
 that he mult take his leave, as he intended to fet out
 
 j6 7ADIC. 
 
 for Babylon before it was light. Their ieparatlon 
 polite and tender : Zadig, ei'pecially, felt himfelt filled 
 with eiteem and afteftion for a man of fo amiable a dif- 
 poiition. When the hermit and he were retired to their 
 apartment, they fpent a long time in beftowing prailes 
 on their hoft. 'At break of day the old hermit awaked 
 his companion : ' We murt now,' faid he, ' depart for 
 ' Babylon ';. but while every body is yet afleep, I 
 f will leave our entertainer a tellimony of my elteem 
 1 and affection.' On Ikying thefe words he lighted a 
 candle, and immediately fet fire to the houf'e. Zadi?, 
 in the utmoft confufion, fhrieked out, and would have 
 prevented his committing fo horrid an aftion ; but the 
 old man drew him away by a fuperior force, and the 
 houfe was loon in flames. When they had reached a 
 convenient diftance, the hermit, with amazing ierenity, 
 turned to furvey the deftru&ive flames. Thanks be 
 
 * to God,' faid he; ' the houfe of my dear hoft will be 
 
 * totally deltroyed ! happv, happy man !' Zadig was 
 now tempted, at one and the lame inftant, to laugh at, 
 to reproach the reverend father, to beat and to leave 
 him: he did not, however, think proper to do either 5 
 for, fubdued by the confequence the hermit had afTuined, 
 he followed him, in fpite ofhimfelf, to the place where 
 they were to take their reft. This was a charitable and 
 virtuous widow's, who had a nephew about fourteen 
 years of age; he was a very promiiing youth, and con- 
 tf ituted her chief happinefs. She performed, as well as 
 Die was able, the honours of her houfe j and the next 
 day ordered her nephew to accompany the travellers to 
 an adjacent bridge, which being lately broken down, 
 was dangerous to be patted by Grangers . 
 
 The youth being attentive to wait on them, walked 
 chearfully forward. When they were on the bridge- 
 ' Come,' faid the hermit, ' I mull (hew my gratitude 
 
 * to your aunt.' He then took him gently by the hair, 
 and with great calmnefs plunged him into the ri'.M, 
 The youth immediately funk ; but focn appeared again 
 </n the furface of the water, and was fwallowed up by
 
 tfce torrrnt. O monlUrl O moft wicked of men!* 
 cried Zadig. ' You have promiled to behave with 
 greater patience,' faid the hermit interrupting him. 
 Learn, then, that under the ruins of that hcufc 
 which Providence hns confumed by fire, the mafia* 
 has found an immenlc treat tire, which will enable hint 
 the better to exert his beniticence, and render his vir- 
 tues Itill more confpicuous. Learn, alib, that this 
 youth, wlio.e lite Providence has taken away by an 
 untimely death, would have flain his aunt within the 
 lpce or' a year, ami ;hce in that of two.'' Wlio 
 told you fo, barbarian ?* cried Zadig. And even 
 though you hud read fuch an event in your deterted 
 Book of Fate, are you permitted to drown a youth 
 who never injured you ?' 
 While Zadig thus fpoke, he perceived that the old 
 man had no longer a beard, and that his facedifcovertd 
 the foft traces of bloominr youth; the hermit's hnbit 
 tHlhppearcd, and four lovely wings covered a maitlHc 
 fonn refplendent with light. O meflenger ot : 
 ' ven ! O divine angel !' cried Zaciig, falling prortrate 
 on the earth ; ' you are then dcfcciidtd from the Km- 
 
 * pyrean, to teach a frail mortal lubmifTion to the or- 
 4 ders of the Eternal !'---' Man,' faid the angel j 
 
 * judges of all, without knowing any thing. You 
 alone, of all the hiirmn race, arc the man who beft 
 ' deferved to be enlightened.' Zadig begged that 
 he would permit him to fpeak. ' I diitrutt myfelf," 
 faid he ; ' but fuffer me to entreat you to rcmo - . ; one 
 
 * fcrnple from my mind. Would it n t have been bet T 
 ' ter to hive corrcft;d the cliiltl, and hive rendered 
 him virtuous, than to have drowned him in the rU 
 ver?' Jv !---' If he had been virtuouj 
 and hid liV'-d, he would himfelf have betn a 
 
 ' together with the wife he would \\-.\- . and 
 
 ' the little infant, which in that cafe wasdertined to*be 
 the pledge of their mutual ahWlion.'---' But 
 faid Zadig, ' is it neccifary that there mould b* r 
 and misfortunes, and that misfurtune ftiould fall 01
 
 78 2ADIC7. 
 
 . the guiltlefs ?' The wicked,' replied Jefrad, ' are 
 always unhappy. Misfortunes ferve only as a touch- 
 (tone, to prove a i'mail number of the ju'l thinly 
 fcattered throughout the earth ; nor is there anv evil 
 from which fome good doth not pioceed/ ' Wfa it,* 
 aid Zadig, * if there was only gcod, and no evil ?* 
 Then,' replied Jefrad, ' this earth would be another 
 earth ; the chain of events would be another arrange- 
 ment, conducted by wil'dom ; but this other arrange- 
 ment, which would be abfolutely perfect, can exilt 
 only in the eternal abode of the Supreme bung, where 
 no evil is permitted to approach. He has civatel 
 millions of woilds, among which there are not two 
 that refemble each other. This immenfe variety pro- 
 ceeds from his omnipotence. There are no two leaves, 
 among the trees of the earth, nor two globes in the 
 infinite fields of light, that perfectly reftmble on? 
 another; and all that you lee on the little atom 
 whereon you are born, mv.il of necefiity exilt in it's 
 own place, and at it's appointed tinu, according tu 
 the immutable decrees of him who comprehends the 
 whole. Mankind imagine; that the child who has 
 juft perifhed, is fallen into the water by chance; and 
 that it was ali'o by chance that the hcufe of our ge- 
 nerous benefactor was con fumed : but there is no 
 Inch thing as chance or accident; it is all either a 
 trial, a puniihment, a reward, or a forelight. Re- 
 member the poor filherman, who though- Ivm-elf the 
 moft unhappy of men, Orofmades ll->:t you to cmnge 
 his dclUny. Ceai'e, then, frail mortal, to diipute, 
 
 againll what it is your dv.ty to adore.'-- ' But ' 
 
 faid Zadig. As he pronounced the word ' but/ the; 
 angel took his flight towards the tenth heaven, 
 funk on his knees and adored the wonders of Provi- 
 dence, with every mark of the moft profound :"i <!>'. if- 
 fiun : when the angel cried from on high---' 1'. 
 to'.vards .Babylon.'
 
 ZADIG. Tj 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 77v JEnigmas. 
 
 *7 ADIG, like a perlbn deprived of his fenfes by loud 
 claps of thunder, walked on without knowing whi- 
 ther. He, however, reached Babylon, on the day in 
 which thole who had fought at the tournaments were 
 aiTl-mbled in the veftibule of the palace, to explain the 
 aenigmas, and to anfwer the questions ot' the grand 
 magi ; and all the knights were arrived except him who 
 wore the green armour. As focn as Zadig appeared 
 in the city, the people afTembled about him ; thcii 
 were not latisfied with feeing him, their lips poured 
 forth blcflings upon him, and their hearts wimed him 
 tlu empire. The envious man law him pals; he 
 frowned, and turned afide. The people, with loud 
 acclamations, attended him even to the palace gate. 
 The queen, who had heard of his arrival, was in the 
 utmoit agony between tear and hope. Inquietude took; 
 pofleffion of her mind ; (he could neither comprehend 
 v.hy Z:"licc was without arms, nor how Itobad became 
 i i the white armour. A confufed murmur 
 
 run thi 'gli the whole aflembly at the fight of Zadig; 
 they weiv lurprized and charmed at feeing him j but 
 jione beliiies the knights who had fought were permit- 
 ted :o appear in the court. Zadig, however, cried out 
 ---' I hnvv taken my fliare in the combats, thoug;. 
 
 * \\\?: bears my arms ; and while I wait till I have the 
 
 * honour to prove my afiertion, I demand pemnllion 
 f to be admitted, that I may endeavour to explain the 
 f xnigmas.' The magi put Zadig's requeft to the 
 yote; and his reputation for prohily wa.-. liill ib itrongiy 
 | aprinted on their minds, that they unanimously .. 
 
 to admit him. 
 
 The firft qucflion propofed by the grand magir\va 
 -' \Vhat is the longcft, and yet the fnorteit tiling 
 in the world ; the Iwiitclt, and moft flow ; tl 
 
 iej and tlic moll extended 5 the lcaftvJu;J, %pi
 
 So 
 
 the moft: regretted ; without which nothing can be 
 done ; which devours all that is tmall, and yet gives 
 life and fpirit to every thing that is great ?' 
 
 Itobad had the honour to fpealc firft. He replied, 
 that ib great a man as he had no knowledge of asnig- 
 mas ; and that it was enough for him to have conquered 
 by his valour and the itrength of his arm. Some laid, 
 that the meaning of the xnigma was fortune ; others 
 the earth; others, the light: but Zadig ibid that it 
 was TIME. Nothing is longer,' added he, c fmce 
 ' it is the mealure of eternity ; nothing is more fliort, 
 lince it is insufficient to compleat our projects ; no- 
 
 * thing is more flow to him who waits, nothing more 
 ' rapid to him who enjoys ; it extends in greatnefs even 
 to infinitude ; it is diviiible into infinite fmallnefs ; 
 all men neglect it ; all lament it's lofs ; nothing can 
 
 * be done without it: it configns to oblivion what is 
 umvorthy of being known by pofterity j and it irn- 
 mortalizes great and noble actions.' The affemb'y 
 agreed unanimoufly that Zadig was in the right. 
 
 The next queftion was ' What is the thing that we 
 ' receive without thanks, which we enjoy without know- 
 ' ing how, which we give to others without knowing 
 where it is to be found, and which we loie without 
 ' being confcious of it's lofs ?' 
 
 Every one gave his own explication -, but Zadig alone 
 laid that it was LIFE : and he iblved all the other oenig- 
 mas propofed with equal facility. Itobad conttnntly 
 laid that nothing was more plain, and that he coulii 
 have anfwercd them with the fame eafe, if he had been 
 inclined to have given himftlf the trouble. Qneftions 
 Tvere then propofed relnefting juftice, the fovereign 
 good, and the art of government. Zadig's anl'wers 
 \verc ftill judged to be the moft Iblid. * What a pity' 
 ' i^is,' faid the magi, < that a peribn of fuch conlum- 
 mate wifdom mould be fo bad a knight !' 
 
 c Moft illuftious lords,' cried Zadig, ' I have had 
 
 * the honour to be conqueror in the tournaments, and 
 
 * U fs to nic that th,e white armour belongs. Lord Up-
 
 ZADIC.' Sf 
 
 ' baii took pofleflion of it while I flept; judging, per- 
 haps, that it would fit him better than the grten. I 
 am, however, ready to encounter before this auguft 
 alitmbly, with my gown and fword, the ulurper of 
 the white armour, that you may be enabled to judge 
 who it is that has had the honour of conquering the 
 brave Otamus.' 
 
 Itobad, with the greateft confidence, accepted this 
 challenge. His head being guarded by a helmet, his 
 bread and back by hii cuirafs, and his arms by his 
 brafiarts, he entertained no doubt but that he mould ea- 
 fily obtain the advantage over a champion in a cap and 
 gown. Zadig drew his fabre, and with it faluted the 
 queen, who viewed him with a mixture of joy aod fear. 
 Itobad drew his, and, without any falutation, ruflied on 
 Zadig like one who had nothing to fear, and was deter- 
 mined to bear down all before him. Zadig, however, 
 kivw how to prevent the blow, byoppofing tlu- ftrongeft 
 part of his Iword to the weakeit of his adveriary's, by 
 which means Itobad's i'word was quickly broken. Za- 
 dig then feized him round the body, threw him to the 
 earth, and placing the point of his fword to the open- 
 ing of his c'.iira:s ' Suffer youvitlf to be difaimed,* 
 
 laid Zat^ig, or I will this moment take your life.* 
 Itobad, always fin-prized that any dilgrace mould hap- 
 pen to a perfon of his conlequence, fuffered Zadig to 
 do as he pleafed. He therefore very peacefully took 
 away his magnificent helmet, his fuperb cuirafs, his 
 rich bralTarts, and his brilliant cuhTe? ; and cloathing 
 himfelf with them, ran in this drels to throw himftlf at 
 Adarte's ieet. Cador eafily proved that the white ar- 
 mour belonged to Zadig; and he was thereupon ac- 
 knowledged King of Babylon by the unanimous confent 
 of the whole aiTcmbly ; and more particularly with the 
 approbation of Aftarte ; who, after fuch a feries ot" 
 misfortunes, had the happinels of feeing her beloved 
 Zadig thought worthy to poflefs her in the eyes of all 
 the world. Itohad withdrew, ami was obliged to con- 
 tent himfelf with being called plain lord in his owa
 
 8* 2ADIC. 
 
 houfe ; while Zadig was elefted king, and 
 happineis equal to his wifhes. He now began to ivfleft 
 on what the angel Jefrad had laid to him} he remem- 
 bered the ftory of the grain of fand which became a 
 diamond j and both himlelf and Aftarte admired the 
 wonders of Providence. He permitted MifTouf, the ca- 
 pricious beauty, to roam where me pleafed ; and lent 
 in fearch of Arbogad, the robber, to whom he gave an 
 honourable poll in the army, with a promife of advan- 
 cing him to the higheil dignities, if he behaved like a 
 Ibldier of honour j but allured him he mould be pu- 
 nifhed without mercy, if he continued to follow the pro- 
 fefllon of a robber. 
 
 Setoc was called from the fartheft confines of Arabia, 
 together with the fair Almona, to prefide over the com- 
 mercial affairs of Babylon ; and Cador was promoted 
 to one of the higheft offices in the ftate, as the reward 
 of his diftinguilhed fervices, and was the king's chief 
 favourite: indeed, he was Ih icily the friend of the king; 
 and Zadig was then the only monarch on earth who had 
 fo true a friend. The little mute was not forgotten; 
 and a very genteel houfe was given to the fifherman, to 
 whom Orcan was condemned to pay a large lum of 
 money, as well as to reftore his wife : the firnerman had, 
 however, obtained wifdom ; he took only the money. 
 Zadig did not leave the beautiful Semira diiconlb- 
 late, who had deferted him when flie feared he would be 
 blind of one eye ; nor Azora comfortlefs, who had been 
 willing to cut off his noi't ; but endeavoured to alleviate 
 their Ibrrows by the moft munificent prefents. The 
 envious Arimazes, indeed, died with fliame and vexa- 
 tion. The empire now enjoyed peace, glory, and all 
 the bleflings of plenty. This was the molt illultrious 
 age of the earth. Babylon was wholly governed by 
 jultice and love. The people blefied Zadig, and Zadig 
 blefled Heaven. 
 
 THE END OF ZADIG,
 
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