observation; so little indeed is it remarked, that I want a word to
express it. I must use negatives on this occasion. I never heard
anything of pertness, or what is called repartee, out of her mouth; no
pretence to wit, much less to that kind of wisdom which is the
result only of great learning and experience, the affectation of
which, in a young woman, is as absurd as any of the affectations of an
ape. No dictatorial sentiments, no judicial opinions, no profound
criticisms. Whenever I have seen her in the company of men, she hath
been all attention, with the modesty of a learner, not the forwardness
of a teacher. You'll pardon me for it, but I once, to try her only,
desired her opinion on a point which was controverted between Mr.
Thwackum and Mr. Square. To which she answered, with much sweetness,
'You will pardon me, good Mr. Allworthy; I am sure you cannot in
earnest think me capable of deciding any point in which two such
gentlemen disagree.' Thwackum and Square, who both alike thought
themselves sure of a favourable decision, seconded my request. She
answered with the same good humour, 'I must absolutely be excused: for
I will affront neither so much as to give my judgment on his side.'
Indeed, she always shewed the highest deference to the
understandings of men; a quality absolutely essential to the making
a good wife. I shall only add, that as she is most apparently void
of all affectation, this deference must be certainly real."
Here Blifil sighed bitterly; upon which Western, whose eyes were
full of tears at the praise of Sophia, blubbered out, "Don't be
chicken-hearted, for shat ha her, d--n me, shat ha her, if she was
twenty times as good."
"Remember your promise, sir," cried Allworthy, "I was not to be
interrupted." "Well, shat unt," answered the squire; "I won't speak
another word."
"Now, my good friend," continued Allworthy, "I have dwelt so long on
the merit of this young lady, partly as I really am in love with her
character, and partly that fortune (for the match in that light is
really advantageous on my nephew's side) might not be imagined to be
my principal view in having so eagerly embraced the proposal.
Indeed, I heartily wished to receive so great a jewel into my
family; but though I may wish for many good things, I would not,
therefore, steal them, or be guilty of any violence or injustice to
possess myself of them. Now to force a woman into a marriage
contrary to her consent or approbation, is an act of such injustice
and oppression, that I wish the laws of our country could restrain it;
but a good conscience is, never lawless in the worst regulated
state, and will provide those laws for itself, which the neglect of
legislators hath forgotten to supply. This is surely a case of that
kind; for, is it not cruel, nay, impious, to force a woman into that
state against her will; for her behaviour in which she is to be
accountable to the highest and most dreadful court of judicature,
and to answer at the peril of her soul? To discharge the matrimonial
duties in an adequate manner is no easy task; and shall we lay this
burthen upon a woman, while we at the same time deprive her of all
that assistance which may enable her to undergo it? Shall we tear
her very heart from her, while we enjoin her duties to which a whole
heart is scarce equal? I must speak very plainly here. I think parents
who act in this manner are accessories to all the guilt which their
children afterwards incur, and of course must, before a just judge,
expect to partake of their punishment; but if they could avoid this,
good heaven! is there a soul who can bear the thought of having
contributed to the damnation of his child?
"For these reasons, my best neighbour, as I see the inclinations
of this young lady are most unhappily averse to my nephew, I must
decline any further thoughts of the honour you intended him, though
I assure you I shall always retain the most grateful sense of it."
"Well, sir," said Western (the froth bursting forth from his lips
the moment they were uncorked), "you cannot say but I have heard you
out, and now I expect you'll hear me; and if I don't answer every word
on't, why then I'll consent to gee the matter up. First then, I desire
you to answer me one question- Did not I beget her? did not I beget
her? answer me that. They say, indeed, it is a wise father that
knows his own child; but I am sure I have the best title to her, for I
bred her up. But I believe you will allow me to be her father, and
if I be, am I not to govern my own child? I ask you that, am I not
to govern my own child? and if I am to govern her in other matters,
surely I am to govern her in this, which concerns her most. And what
am I desiring all this while? Am I desiring her to do anything for me:
to give me anything?- Zu much on t'other side, that I am only
desiring her to take away half my estate now, and t'other half when
I die. Well, and what is it all vor? Why, is unt it to make her happy?
It's enough to make one mad to hear volks talk; if I was going to
marry myself, then she would ha reason to cry and to blubber; but,
on the contrary, han't I offered to bind down my land in such a
manner, that I could not marry if I would, seeing as narro' woman upon
earth would ha me. What the devil in hell can I do more? I
contribute to her damnation!- Zounds! I'd zee all the world d--n'd
bevore her little vinger should be hurt. Indeed, Mr. Allworthy, you
must excuse me, but I am surprized to hear you talk in zuch a
manner, and I must say, take it how you will, that I thought you had
more sense."
Allworthy resented this reflection only with a smile; nor could
he, if he would have endeavoured it, have conveyed into that smile any
mixture of malice or contempt. His smiles at folly were indeed such as
we may suppose the angels bestow on the absurdities of mankind.
Blifil now desired to be permitted to speak a few words. "As to
using any violence on the young lady, I am sure I shall never
consent to it. My conscience will not permit me to use violence on any
one, much less on a lady for whom, however cruel she is to me, I shall
always preserve the purest and sincerest affection; but yet I have
read that women are seldom proof against perseverance. Why may I not
hope then by such perseverance at last to gain those inclinations,
in which for the future I shall, perhaps, have no rival; for as for
this lord, Mr. Western is so kind to prefer me to him; and sure,
sir, you will not deny but that a parent hath at least a negative
voice in these matters; nay, I have heard this very young lady herself
say so more than once, and declare that she thought children
inexcusable who married in direct opposition to the will of their
parents. Besides, though the other ladies of the family seem to favour
the pretensions of my lord, I do not find the lady herself is inclined
to give him any countenance; alas! I am too well assured she is not; I
am too sensible that wickedest of men remains uppermost in her heart."
"Ay, ay, so he does," cries Western.
"But surely," says Blifil, "when she hears of this murder which he
hath committed, if the law should spare his life--"
"What's that?" cries Western. "Murder! hath he committed a murder,
and is there any hopes of seeing him hanged?-Tol de rol, tol lol de
rol." Here he fell a singing and capering about the room.
"Child," says Allworthy, "this unhappy passion of yours distresses
me beyond measure. I heartily pity you, and would do every fair
thing to promote your success."
"I desire no more," cries Blifil; "I am convinced my dear uncle hath
a better opinion of me than to think that I myself would accept of
more."
"Lookee," says Allworthy, "you have my leave to write, to visit,
if she will permit it- but I insist on no thoughts of violence. I
will have no confinement, nothing of that kind attempted."
"Well, well," cries the squire, "nothing of that kind shall be
attempted; we will try a little longer what fair means will effect;
and if this fellow be but hanged out of the way- Tol lol de rol! I
never heard better news in my life- I warrant everything goes to my
mind.- Do, prithee, dear Allworthy, come and dine with me at the
Hercules Pillars: I have bespoke a shoulder of mutton roasted, and a
spare-rib of pork, and a fowl and egg-sauce. There will be nobody
but ourselves, unless we have a mind to have the landlord; for I
have sent Parson Supple down to Basingstoke after my tobacco-box,
which I left at an inn there, and I would not lose it for the world;
for it is an old acquaintance of above twenty years' standing. I can
tell you landlord is a vast comical bitch, you will like un hugely."
Mr. Allworthy at last agreed to this invitation, and soon after
the squire went off, singing and capering at the hopes of seeing the
speedy tragical end of poor Jones.
When he was gone, Mr. Allworthy resumed the aforesaid subject with
much gravity. He told his nephew, "He wished with all his heart he
would endeavour to conquer a passion, in which I cannot," says he,
"flatter you with any hopes of succeeding. It is certainly a vulgar
error, that aversion in a woman may be conquered by perseverance.
Indifference may, perhaps, sometimes yield to it; but the usual
triumphs gained by perseverence in a lover are over caprice, prudence,
affectation, and often an exorbitant degree of levity, which excites
women not over-warm in their constitutions to indulge their vanity
by prolonging the time of courtship, even when they are well enough
pleased with the object, and resolve (if they ever resolve at all)
to make him a very pitiful amends in the end. But a fixed dislike,
as I am afraid this is, will rather gather strength than be
conquered by time. Besides, my dear, I have another apprehension which
you must excuse. I am afraid this passion which you have for this fine
young creature hath her beautiful person too much for its object,
and is unworthy of the name of that love which is the only
foundation of matrimonial felicity. To admire, to like, and to long
for the possession of a beautiful woman, without any regard to her
sentiments towards us, is, I am afraid, too natural; but love, I
believe, is the child of love only; at least, I am pretty confident
that to love the creature who we are assured hates us is not in
human nature. Examine your heart, therefore, thoroughly, my good
boy, and if, upon examination, you have but the least suspicion of
this kind, I am sure your own virtue and religion will impel you to
drive so vicious a passion from your heart, and your good sense will
soon enable you to do it without pain."
The reader may pretty well guess Blifil's answer; but, if he
should be at a loss, we are not at present at leisure to satisfy
him, as our history now hastens on to matters of higher importance,
and we can no longer bear to be absent from Sophia.
Chapter 4
An extraordinary scene between Sophia and her aunt
The lowing heifer and the bleating ewe, in herds and flocks, may
ramble safe and unregarded through the pastures. These are, indeed,
hereafter doomed to be the prey of man; yet many years are they
suffered to enjoy their liberty undisturbed. But if a plump doe be
discovered to have escaped from the forest, and to repose herself in
some field or grove, the whole parish is presently alarmed, every
man is ready to set dogs after her; and, if she is preserved from
the rest by the good squire, it is only that he may secure her for his
own eating.
I have often considered a very fine young woman of fortune and
fashion, when first found strayed from the pale of her nursery, to
be in pretty much the same situation with this doe. The town is
immediately in an uproar; she is hunted from park to play, from
court to assembly, from assembly to her own chamber, and rarely
escapes a single season from the jaws of some devourer or other;
for, if her friends protect her from some, it is only to deliver her
over to one of their own chusing, of more disagreeable to her than any
of the rest; while whole herds or flocks of other women securely,
and scarce regarded, traverse the park, the play, the opera, and the
assembly; and though, for the most part at least, they are at last
devoured, yet for a long time do they wanton in liberty, without
disturbance or controul.
Of all these paragons none ever tasted more of this persecution than
poor Sophia. Her ill stars were not contented with all that she had
suffered on account of Blifil, they now raised her another pursuer,
who seemed likely to torment her no less than the other had done.
For though her aunt was less violent, she was no less assiduous in
teizing her, than her father had been before.
The servants were no sooner departed after dinner, than Mrs.
Western, who had opened the matter to Sophia, informed her, "That
she expected his lordship that very afternoon, and intended to take
the first opportunity of leaving her alone with him." "If you do,
madam," answered Sophia, with some spirit, "I shall take the first
opportunity of leaving him by himself." "How! madam!" cries the
aunt; "is this the return you make me for my kindness in relieving you
from your confinement at your father's?" "You know, madam," said
Sophia, "the cause of that confinement was a refusal to comply with my
father in accepting a man I detested, and will my dear aunt, who
hath relieved me from that distress, involve me in another equally
bad?" "And do you think then, madam," answered Mrs. Western, that
there is no difference between my Lord Fellamar and Mr. Blifil?" "Very
little, in my opinion," cries Sophia; "and, if I must be condemned
