same key with theirs: for very artful men sometimes miscarry by
fancying others wiser, or, in other words, greater knaves, than they
really are. As this observation is pretty deep, I will illustrate it
by the following short story. Three countrymen were pursuing a
Wiltshire thief through Brentford. The simplest of them seeing "The
Wiltshire House," written under a sign, advised his companions to
enter it, for there most probably they would find their countryman.
The second, who was wiser, laughed at this simplicity; but the
third, who was wiser still, answered, "Let us go in, however, for he
may think we should not suspect him of going amongst his own
countrymen." They accordingly went in and searched the house, and by
that means missed overtaking the thief, who was at that time but a
little way before them; and who, as they all knew, but had never
once reflected, could not read.
The reader will pardon a digression in which so invaluable a
secret is communicated, since every gamester will agree how
necessary it is to know exactly the play of another, in order to
countermine him. This will, moreover, afford a reason why the wiser
man, as is often seen, is the bubble of the weaker, and why many
simple and innocent characters are so generally misunderstood and
misrepresented; but what is most material, this will account for the
deceit which Sophia put on her politic aunt.
Dinner being ended, and the company retired into the garden, Mr.
Western, who was thoroughly convinced of the certainty of what his
sister had told him, took Mr. Allworthy aside, and very bluntly
proposed a match between Sophia and young Mr. Blifil.
Mr. Allworthy was not one of those men whose hearts flutter at any
unexpected and sudden tidings of worldly profit. His mind was, indeed,
tempered with that philosophy which becomes a man and a Christian.
He affected no absolute superiority to all pleasure and pain, to all
joy and grief; but was not at the same time to be discomposed and
ruffled by every accidental blast, by every smile or frown of fortune.
He received, therefore, Mr. Western's proposal without any visible
emotion, or without any alteration of countenance. He said the
alliance was such as he sincerely wished; then launched forth into a
very just encomium on the young lady's merit; acknowledged the offer
to be advantageous in point of fortune; and after thanking Mr. Western
for the good opinion he had professed of his nephew, concluded, that
if the young people liked each other, he should be very desirous to
complete the affair.
Western was a little disappointed at Mr. Allworthy's answer, which
was not so warm as he expected. He treated the doubt whether the young
people might like one another with great contempt, saying, "That
parents were the best judges of proper matches for their children:
that for his part he should insist on the most resigned obedience from
his daughter: and if any young fellow could refuse such a
bed-fellow, he was his humble servant, and hoped there was no harm
done."
Allworthy endeavoured to soften this resentment by many eulogiums on
Sophia, declaring he had no doubt but that Mr. Blifil would very
gladly receive the offer; but all was ineffectual; he could obtain
no other answer from the squire but- "I say no more- I humbly hope
there's no harm done- that's all." Which words he repeated at least a
hundred times before they parted.
Allworthy was too well acquainted with his neighbour to be
offended at this behaviour; and though he was so averse to the
rigour which some parents exercise on their children in the article of
marriage, that he had resolved never to force his nephew's
inclinations, he was nevertheless much pleased with the prospect of
this union; for the whole country resounded the praises of Sophia, and
he had himself greatly admired the uncommon endowments of both her
mind and person. To which I believe we may add, the consideration of
her vast fortune, which, though he was too sober to be intoxicated
with it, he was too sensible to despise.
And here, in defiance of all the barking critics in the world, I
must and will introduce a digression concerning true wisdom, of
which Mr. Allworthy was in reality as great a pattern as he was of
goodness.
True wisdom then, notwithstanding all which Mr. Hogarth's poor
poet may have writ against riches, and in spite of all which any
rich well-fed divine may have preached against pleasure, consists
not in the contempt of either of these. A man may have as much
wisdom in the possession of an affluent fortune, as any beggar in
the streets; or may enjoy a handsome wife or a hearty friend, and
still remain as wise as any sour popish recluse, who buries all his
social faculties, and starves his belly while he well lashes his back.
To say truth, the wisest man is the likeliest to possess all worldly
blessings in an eminent degree; for as that moderation which wisdom
prescribes is the surest way to useful wealth, so can it alone qualify
us to taste many pleasures. The wise man gratifies every appetite
and every passion, while the fool sacrifices all the rest to pall
and satiate one.
It may be objected, that very wise men have been notoriously
avaricious. I answer, Not wise in that instance. It may likewise be
said, That the wisest men have been in their youth immoderately fond
of pleasure. I answer, They were not wise then.
Wisdom, in short, whose lessons have been represented as so hard
to learn by those who never were at her school, only teaches us to
extend a simple maxim universally known and followed even in the
lowest life, a little farther than that life carries it. And this
is, not to buy at too dear a price.
Now, whoever takes this maxim abroad with him into the grand
market of the world, and constantly applies it to honours, to
riches, to pleasures, and to every other commodity which that market
affords, is, I will venture to affirm, a wise man, and must be so
acknowledged in the worldly sense of the word; for he makes the best
of bargains, since in reality he purchases everything at the price
only of a little trouble, and carries home all the good things I
have mentioned, while he keeps his health, his innocence, and his
reputation, the common prices which are paid for them by others,
entire and to himself.
From this moderation, likewise, he learns two other lessons, which
complete his character. First, never to be intoxicated when he hath
made the best bargain, nor dejected when the market is empty, or
when its commodities are too dear for his purchase.
But I must remember on what subject I am writing, and not trespass
too far on the patience of a good-natured critic. Here, therefore, I
put an end to the chapter.
Chapter 4
Containing sundry curious matters
As soon as Mr. Allworthy returned home, he took Mr. Blifil apart,
and after some preface, communicated to him the proposal which had
been made by Mr. Western, and at the same time informed him how
agreeable this match would be to himself.
The charms of Sophia had not made the least impression on Blifil;
not that his heart was pre-engaged; neither was he totally
insensible of beauty, or had any aversion to women; but his
appetites were by nature so moderate, that he was able, by philosophy,
or by study, or by some other method, easily to subdue them: and as to
that passion which we have treated of in the first chapter of this
book, he had not the least tincture of it in his whole composition.
But though he was so entirely free from that mixed passion, of which
we there treated, and of which the virtues and beauty of Sophia formed
so notable an object; yet was he altogether as well furnished with
some other passions, that promised themselves very full
gratification in the young lady's fortune. Such were avarice and
ambition, which divided the dominion of his mind between them. He
had more than once considered the possession of this fortune as a very
desirable thing, and had entertained some distant views concerning it;
but his own youth, and that of the young lady, and indeed
principally a reflection that Mr. Western might marry again, and
have more children, had restrained him from too hasty or eager a
pursuit.
This last and most material objection was now in great measure
removed, as the proposal came from Mr. Western himself. Blifil,
therefore, after a very short hesitation, answered Mr. Allworthy, that
matrimony was a subject on which he had not yet thought; but that he
was so sensible of his friendly and fatherly care, that he should in
all things submit himself to his pleasure.
Allworthy was naturally a man of spirit, and his present gravity
arose from true wisdom and philosophy, not from any original phlegm in
his disposition; for he had possessed much fire in his youth, and
had married a beautiful woman for love. He was not therefore greatly
pleased with this cold answer of his nephew; nor could he help
launching forth into the praises of Sophia, and expressing some wonder
that the heart of a young man could be impregnable to the force of
such charms, unless it was guarded by some prior affection.
Blifil assured him he had no such guard; and then proceeded to
discourse so wisely and religiously on love and marriage, that he
would have stopt the mouth of a parent much less devoutly inclined
than was his uncle. In the end, the good man was satisfied that his
nephew, far from having any objections to Sophia, had that esteem
for her, which in sober and virtuous minds is the sure foundation of
friendship and love. And as he doubted not but the lover would, in a
little time, become altogether as agreeable to his mistress, he
foresaw great happiness arising to all parties by so proper and
desirable an union. With Mr. Blifil's consent therefore he wrote the
next morning to Mr. Western, acquainting him that his nephew had
very thankfully and gladly received the proposal, and would be ready
to wait on the young lady, whenever she should be pleased to accept
his visit.
Western was much pleased with this letter, and immediately
returned answer; in which, without having mentioned a word to his
daughter, he appointed that very afternoon for opening the scene of
courtship.
As soon as he had dispatched this messenger, he went in quest of his
sister, whom he found reading and expounding the Gazette to parson
Supple. To this exposition he was obliged to attend near a quarter
of an hour, though with great violence to his natural impetuosity,
before he was suffered to speak. At length, however, he found an
opportunity of acquainting the lady, that he had business of great
consequence to impart to her; to which she answered, "Brother, I am
entirely at your service. Things look so well in the north, that I was
never in a better humour."
The parson then withdrawing, Western acquainted her with all which
had passed, and desired her to communicate the affair to Sophia, which
she readily and chearfully undertook; though perhaps her brother was a
little obliged to that agreeable northern aspect which had so
delighted her, that he heard no comment on his proceedings; for they
were certainly somewhat too hasty and violent.
Chapter 5
In which is related what passed between Sophia and her aunt
Sophia was in her chamber, reading, when her aunt came in. The
moment she saw Mrs. Western, she shut the book with so much eagerness,
that the good lady could not forbear asking her, What book that was
which she seemed so much afraid of showing? "Upon my word, madam,"
answered Sophia, "it is a book which I am neither ashamed nor afraid
to own I have read. It is the production of a young lady of fashion,
whose good understanding, I think, doth honour to her sex, and whose
good heart is an honour to human nature." Mrs. Western then took up
the book, and immediately after threw it down, saying- "Yes, the
author is of a very good family; but she is not much among people one
knows. I have never read it; for the best judges say, there is not
much in it."- "I dare not, madam, set up my own opinion," says
Sophia, "against the best judges, but there appears to me a great deal
of human nature in it; and in many parts so much true tenderness and
delicacy, that it hath cost me many a tear."- "Ay, and do you love to
cry then?" says the aunt. "I love a tender sensation," answered the
niece, "and would pay the price of a tear for it at any
time."- "Well, but show me," said the aunt, "what was you reading
when I came in; there was something very tender in that, I believe,
and very loving too. You blush, my dear Sophia. Ah! child, you
should read books which would teach you a little hypocrisy, which
would instruct you how to hide your thoughts a little better."- I
hope, madam," answered Sophia, "I have no thoughts which I ought to be
ashamed of discovering."- "Ashamed! no," cries the aunt, "I don't
think you have any thoughts which you ought to be ashamed of; and yet,
child, you blushed just now when I mentioned the word loving. Dear
Sophy, be assured you have not one thought which I am not well
acquainted with; as well, child, as the French are with our motions,
long before we put them in execution. Did you think, child, because
you have been able to impose upon your father, that you could impose
upon me? Do you imagine I did not know the reason of your overacting
all that friendship for Mr. Blifil yesterday? I have seen a little too
much of the world, to be so deceived. Nay, nay, do not blush again.
I tell you it is a passion you need not be ashamed of. It is a passion
I myself approve, and have already brought your father into the
approbation of it. Indeed, I solely consider your inclination; for I
would always have that gratified, if possible, though one may
sacrifice higher prospects. Come, I have news which will delight
