The Vicar of Wakefield (9 page)

After a short interval being left to reflection, I began to
recollect that I had done wrong in taking a draught from a
stranger, and so prudently resolved upon following the purchaser,
and having back my horse. But this was now too late: I therefore
made directly homewards, resolving to get the draught changed into
money at my friend's as fast as possible. I found my honest
neighbour smoking his pipe at his own door, and informing him that
I had a small bill upon him, he read it twice over. 'You can read
the name, I suppose,' cried I, 'Ephraim Jenkinson.' 'Yes,' returned
he, 'the name is written plain enough, and I know the gentleman
too, the greatest rascal under the canopy of heaven. This is the
very same rogue who sold us the spectacles. Was he not a venerable
looking man, with grey hair, and no flaps to his pocket-holes? And
did he not talk a long string of learning about Greek and
cosmogony, and the world?' To this I replied with a groan. 'Aye,'
continued he, 'he has but that one piece of learning in the world,
and he always talks it away whenever he finds a scholar in company;
but I know the rogue, and will catch him yet.' Though I was already
sufficiently mortified, my greatest struggle was to come, in facing
my wife and daughters. No truant was ever more afraid of returning
to school, there to behold the master's visage, than I was of going
home. I was determined, however, to anticipate their fury, by first
falling into a passion myself.

But, alas! upon entering, I found the family no way disposed 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 some
malicious person about us, were that day set out for London. He
could neither discover the tendency, nor the author of these, but
whatever they might be, or whoever might have broached them, he
continued to assure our family of his friendship and protection. I
found, therefore, that they bore my disappointment with great
resignation, as it was eclipsed in the greatness of their own. But
what perplexed us most was to think who could be so base as to
asperse the character of a family so harmless as ours, too humble
to excite envy, and too inoffensive to create disgust.

All, Mr Burchell's villainy at once detected. The folly of being
over-wise

That evening and a part of the following day was employed in
fruitless attempts to discover our enemies: scarce a family in the
neighbourhood but incurred our suspicions, and each of us had
reasons for our opinion best known to ourselves. As we were in this
perplexity, one of our little boys, who had been playing abroad,
brought in a letter-case, which he found on the green. It was
quickly known to belong to Mr Burchell, with whom it had been seen,
and, upon examination, contained some hints upon different
subjects; but what particularly engaged our attention was a sealed
note, superscribed, 'The copy of a letter to be sent to the two
ladies at Thornhill-castle.' It instantly occurred that he was the
base informer, and we deliberated whether the note should not be
broke open. I was against it; but Sophia, who said she was sure
that of all men he would be the last to be guilty of so much
baseness, insisted upon its being read, In this she was seconded by
the rest of the family, and, at their joint solicitation, I read as
follows:—

'Ladies,—The bearer will sufficiently satisfy you as to the
person from whom this comes: one at least the friend of innocence,
and ready to prevent its being seduced. I am informed for a truth,
that you have some intention of bringing two young ladies to town,
whom I have some knowledge of, under the character of companions.
As I would neither have simplicity imposed upon, nor virtue
contaminated, I must offer it as my opinion, that the impropriety
of such a step will be attended with dangerous consequences. It has
never been my way to treat the infamous or the lewd with severity;
nor should I now have taken this method of explaining myself, or
reproving folly, did it not aim at guilt. Take therefore the
admonition of a friend, and seriously reflect on the consequences
of introducing infamy and vice into retreats where peace and
innocence have hitherto resided.' Our doubts were now at an end.
There seemed indeed something applicable to both sides in this
letter, and its censures might as well be referred to those to whom
it was written, as to us; but the malicious meaning was obvious,
and we went no farther. My wife had scarce patience to hear me to
the end, but railed at the writer with unrestrained resentment.
Olivia was equally severe, and Sophia seemed perfectly amazed at
his baseness. As for my part, it appeared to me one of the vilest
instances of unprovoked ingratitude I had met with. Nor could I
account for it in any other manner than by imputing it to his
desire of detaining my youngest daughter in the country, to have
the more frequent opportunities of an interview. In this manner we
all sate ruminating upon schemes 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 easier to conceive
than describe the complicated sensations which are felt from the
pain of a recent injury, and the pleasure of approaching vengeance.
Tho' our intentions were only to upbraid him with his ingratitude;
yet it was resolved to do it in a manner that would be perfectly
cutting. For this purpose we agreed to meet him with our usual
smiles, to chat in the beginning with more than ordinary kindness,
to amuse him a little; and then in the midst of the flattering calm
to burst upon him like an earthquake, and overwhelm him with the
sense of his own baseness. This being resolved upon, my wife
undertook to manage the business herself, as she really had some
talents for such an undertaking. We saw him approach, he entered,
drew a chair, and sate down.—'A fine day, Mr Burchell.'—'A very
fine day, Doctor; though I fancy we shall have some rain by the
shooting of my corns.'—'The shooting of your horns,' cried my wife,
in a loud fit of laughter, and then asked pardon for being fond of
a joke.—'Dear madam,' replied he, 'I pardon you with all my heart;
for I protest I should not have thought it a joke had you not told
me.'—'Perhaps not, Sir,' cried my wife, winking at us, 'and yet I
dare say you can tell us how many jokes go to an ounce.'—'I fancy,
madam,' returned Burchell, 'you have been reading a jest book this
morning, that ounce of jokes is so very good a conceit; and yet,
madam, I had rather see half an ounce of understanding.'—'I believe
you might,' cried my wife, still smiling at us, though the laugh
was against her; 'and yet I have seen some men pretend to
understanding that have very little.'—'And no doubt,' replied her
antagonist, 'you have known ladies set up for wit that had none.'—I
quickly began to find that my wife was likely to gain but little at
this business; so I resolved to treat him in a stile of more
severity myself. 'Both wit and understanding,' cried I, 'are
trifles, without integrity: it is that which gives value to every
character. The ignorant peasant, without fault, is greater than the
philosopher with many; for what is genius or courage without an
heart? An honest man is the noblest work of God.

'I always held that hackney'd maxim of Pope,' returned Mr
Burchell, 'as very unworthy a man of genius, and a base desertion
of his own superiority. As the reputation of books is raised not by
their freedom from defect, but the greatness of their beauties; so
should that of men be prized not for their exemption from fault,
but the size of those virtues they are possessed of. The scholar
may want prudence, the statesman may have pride, and the champion
ferocity; but shall we prefer to these the low mechanic, who
laboriously plods on through life, without censure or applause? We
might as well prefer the tame correct paintings of the Flemish
school to the erroneous, but sublime animations of the Roman
pencil.'

'Sir,' replied I, 'your present observation is just, when there
are shining virtues and minute defects; but when it appears that
great vices are opposed in the same mind to as extraordinary
virtues, such a character deserves contempt.' 'Perhaps,' cried he,
'there may be some such monsters as you describe, of great vices
joined to great virtues; yet in my progress through life, I never
yet found one instance of their existence: on the contrary, I have
ever perceived, that where the mind was capacious, the affections
were good. And indeed Providence seems kindly our friend in this
particular, thus to debilitate the understanding where the heart is
corrupt, and diminish the power where there is the will to do
mischief. This rule seems to extend even to other animals: the
little vermin race are ever treacherous, cruel, and cowardly,
whilst those endowed with strength and power are generous, brave,
and gentle.'

'These observations sound well,' returned I, 'and yet it would
be easy this moment to point out a man,' and I fixed my eye
stedfastly upon him, 'whose head and heart form a most detestable
contrast. Ay, Sir,' continued I, raising my voice, 'and I am glad
to have this opportunity of detecting him in the midst of his
fancied security. Do you know this, Sir, this pocket-book?'—'Yes,
Sir,' returned he, with a face of impenetrable assurance, 'that
pocket-book is mine, and I am glad you have found it.'—'And do you
know,' cried I, 'this letter? Nay, never falter man; but look me
full in the face: I say, do you know this letter?'—'That letter,'
returned he, 'yes, it was I that wrote that letter.'—'And how could
you,' said I, 'so basely, so ungratefully presume to write this
letter?'—'And how came you,' replied he, with looks of
unparallelled effrontery, 'so basely to presume to break open this
letter? Don't you know, now, I could hang you all for this? All
that I have to do, is to swear at the next justice's, that you have
been guilty of breaking open the lock of my pocket-book, and so
hang you all up at his door.' This piece of unexpected insolence
raised me to such a pitch, that I could scare govern my passion.
'Ungrateful wretch, begone, and no longer pollute my dwelling with
thy baseness. Begone, and never let me see thee again: go from my
doors, and the only punishment I wish thee is an allarmed
conscience, which will be a sufficient tormentor!' So saying, I
threw him his pocket-book, which he took up with a smile, and
shutting the clasps with the utmost composure, left us, quite
astonished at the serenity of his assurance. My wife was
particularly enraged that nothing could make him angry, or make him
seem ashamed of his villainies. 'My dear,' cried I, willing to calm
those passions that had been raised too high among us, 'we are not
to be surprised that bad men want shame; they only blush at being
detected in doing good, but glory in their vices.

'Guilt and shame, says the allegory, were at first companions,
and in the beginning of their journey inseparably kept together.
But their union was soon found to be disagreeable and inconvenient
to both; guilt gave shame frequent uneasiness, and shame often
betrayed the secret conspiracies of guilt. After long
disagreeement, therefore, they at length consented to part for
ever. Guilt boldly walked forward alone, to overtake fate, that
went before in the shape of an executioner: but shame being
naturally timorous, returned back to keep company with virtue,
which, in the beginning of their journey, they had left behind.
Thus, my children, after men have travelled through a few stages in
vice, shame forsakes them, and returns back to wait upon the few
virtues they have still remaining.'

Whatever might have been Sophia's sensations, the rest of the
family was easily consoled, for Mr Burchell's absence by the
company of our landlord, whose visits now became more frequent and
longer. Though he had been disappointed in procuring my daughters
the amusements of the town, as he designed, he took every
opportunity of supplying them with those little recreations which
our retirement would admit of. He usually came in the morning, and
while my son and I followed our occupations abroad, he sat with the
family at home, and amused them by describing the town, with every
part of which he was particularly acquainted. He could repeat all
the observations that were retailed in the atmosphere of the
playhouses, and had all the good things of the high wits by rote
long before they made way into the jest-books. The intervals
between conversation were employed in teaching my daughters piquet,
or sometimes in setting my two little ones to box to make them
sharp, as he called it: but the hopes of having him for a
son-in-law, in some measure blinded us to all his imperfections. It
must be owned that my wife laid a thousand schemes to entrap him,
or, to speak it more tenderly, used every art to magnify the merit
of her daughter. If the cakes at tea eat short and crisp, they were
made by Olivia: if the gooseberry wine was well knit, the
gooseberries 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 mix'd the ingredients. Then the
poor woman would sometimes tell the 'Squire, that she thought him
and Olivia extremely of a size, and would bid both stand up to see
which was tallest. These instances of cunning, which she thought
impenetrable, yet which every body saw through, were very pleasing
to our benefactor, who gave every day some new proofs of his
passion, which though they had not arisen to proposals of marriage,
yet we thought fell but little short of it; and his slowness was
attributed sometimes to native bashfulness, and sometimes to his
fear of offending his uncle. An occurrence, however, which happened
soon after, put it beyond a doubt that he designed to become one of
our family, my wife even regarded it as an absolute promise.