Chapter 3
A Migration-The Fortunate Circumstances of our Lives are Generally Found at Last to Be of our Own Procuring.
THE only hope of our family now was that
the report of our misfortunes might be malicious or premature, but a letter
from my
agent in town soon came with a confirmation of every
particular. The loss of fortune to myself alone would have been trifling;
the only uneasiness I felt was for my family, who were
to be humble without an education to render them callous to contempt.
Near a fortnight had passed before I attempted
to restrain their affliction, for premature consolation is but the remembrancer
of sorrow. During this interval my thoughts were employed
on some future means of supporting them, and at last a small cure of
fifteen pounds a year was offered me in a distant neighborhood,
where I could still enjoymy principles without molestation. With
this proposal I joyfully closed, having determined to
increase my salary by managing a little farm.
Having taken this resolution, my next care
was to
get together the wrecks of my fortune; and, all debts
collected and paid, out of fourteen thousand pounds we had but four
hundred remaining. My chief attention, therefore, was
now to bring down the pride of my family to their circumstances, for I
well knew that aspiring beggary is wretchedness itself.
"You cannot be ignorant, my children," cried I, "that no prudence of ours
could have prevented our late misfortune, but prudence
may do much in disappointing its effects. We are now poor, my
fondlings, and wisdom bids us conform to our humble situation.
Let us, then, without repining, give up those splendors with
which numbers are wretched, and seek in humbler circumstances
that peace with which all may be happy. The poor live
pleasantly without our help; why, then, should we not
learn to live without theirs? No, my children, let us from this moment
give
up all pretensions to gentility; we have still enough
left for happiness if we are wise, and let us draw upon content for the
deficiencies of fortune."
As my eldest son was bred a scholar, I determined
to send him to town, where his abilities might contribute to our support
and his own. The separation of friends and families is,
perhaps, one of the most distressful circumstances attendant on penury.
The day soon arrived on which we were to disperse for
the first time. My son, after taking leave of his mother and the rest,
who
mingled their tears with their kisses,
came to ask a blessing from me. This I gave him from my
heart, and which, added to five guineas, was all the patrimony I had
now to bestow. "You are going, my boy," cried I, "to
London on foot, in the manner Hooker, your great ancestor, travelled
there before you. Take f rom me the same horse that was
given him by the good bishop jewel, this staff ; and take this book
too, it will be your comfort on the way: these two lines
in it are worth a million: 'I have been young, and now am old; yet never
saw I the righteous man forsaken, or his seed begging
their bread.' Let this be your consolation as you travel on. Go, my boy;
whatever be thy fortune, let me see thee once a year;
still keep a good heart, and farewell." As he was possessed of integrity
and honor, I was under no apprehensions f rom throwing
him naked into the amphitheatre of life; f or I knew he would act a
good part, whether vanquished or victorious.
His departure only prepared the way for our
own, which arrived a few days afterwards. The leaving a neighborhood in
which
we had enjoyed so many hours of tranquillity was not
without a tear, which scarcely fortitude itself could suppress. Besides,
a
journey of seventy miles, to a family that had hitherto
never been above ten miles from home, filled us with apprehension; and
the cries of the poor, who followed us for some miles,
contributed to increase it. The first day's journey brought us in safety
within thirty miles
Image missing
Illustration absent.
of our future retreat, and we put up for the night at
an obscure inn in a village by the way. When we were shown a room, I
desired the landlord, in my usual way, to let us have
his company, with which he complied, as what he drank would increase the
bill the next morning. He knew, however, the whole neighborhood
to which I was removing, particularly 'Squire Thornhill,
who was to be my landlord, and who lived within a few miles of the
place. This gentleman he described as one who desired
to know little more of the world than its pleasures, being particularly
remarkable for his attachment to the fair sex. He observed
that no virtue was able to resist his arts and assiduity, and that
scarcely a farmer's daughters within ten miles round,
but what had found him successful and faithless. Though this account gave
me some pain, it had a very different effect upon my
daughters, whose features seemed to brighten with the expectation of an
approaching triumph; nor was my wife less pleased and
confident of their allurements and virtue. While our thoughts were thus
employed, the hostess entered the room to inform her
husband that the strange gentleman, who had been two days in the
house, wanted money, and could not satisfy them for his
reckoning. "Want money!" replied the host, "that must be impossible;
for it was no later than yesterday he paid three guineas
to our beadle to spare an old broken soldier that was to be
whippedthrough the town for dogstealing." The hostess,
however, still persisting in her first assertion, he was preparing to leave
the room, swearing that he would be satisfied one way
or another, when I begged the landlord would introduce me to a
stranger of so much charity as he described. With this
he complied, showing in a gentleman who
seemed to be about thirty, dressed in clothes that once
were laced. His person was well formed, and his face marked with the
lines of thinking. He had something short and dry in
his address, and seemed not to understand ceremony, or to despise it.
Upon the landlord's leaving the room, I could not avoid
expressing my concern to the stranger at seeing a gentleman in such
circumstances, and offered him my purse to satisfy the
present demand. "I take it with all my heart, sir," replied he, "and am
glad that a late oversight in giving what money I had
about me, has shown me that there are still some men like you. I must,
however, previously entreat being informed of the name
and residence of my benefactor, in order to repay him as soon as
possible." In this I satisfied him fully, not only mentioning
my name and late misfortunes, but the place to which I was going to
remove. "This," cried he, "happens still more luckily
than I hoped for, as I am going the same way myself, having been detained
here two days by the floods, which I hope by tomorrow
will be found passable."' I testified the pleasure I should have in his
company, and my wife and daughters joining in entreaty,
he was prevailed upon to stay to supper. The stranger's conversation,
which was at once pleasing and instructive, induced me
to wish for a continuance of it; but it was now high time to retire and
take refreshment against the fatigues of the following
day.
The next morning we all set forward together;
my
family on horseback, while Mr. Burchell, our new companion,
walked along the footpath by the roadside, observing with a
smile, that as we were illmounted, he would be too generous
to attempt to leave us behind. As the floods were not yet
subsided, we were obliged to hire a guide, who trotted
on before, Mr. Burchell and I bringing up the rear. We lightened the
fatigues of the road with philosophical disputes, which
he seemed to understand perfectly. But what surprised me most was,
that though he was a moneyborrower, he defended his opinions
with as much obstinacy as if he had been my patron. He now
and then also informed me to whom the different seats
belonged that lay in our view as we travelled the road. "That," cried he,
pointing to a very magnificent house which stood at some
distance, "belongs to Mr. Thornhill, a young gentleman who enjoys a
large fortune, though entirely dependent on the will
of his uncle, Sir William Thornhill, a gentleman who, content with a little
himself, permits his nephew to enjoy the rest, and chiefly
resides in town." "What!" cried I, "is my young landlord, then, the
nephew of a man whose virtues, generosity, and singularities
are so universally known? I have heard Sir William Thornhill
represented as one of the most generous, yet whimsical
men in the kingdom; a man of consummate benevolence." "Something,
perhaps, too much so," replied Mr. Burchell, "at least
he carried benevolence to an excess
when young; for his passions were then strong, and as
they were all upon the side of virtue, they led it up to a romantic extreme.
He early began to aim at the qualifications of the soldier
and scholar; was soon distinguished in the army, and had some
reputation among men of learning. Adulation ever follows
the ambitious; for such alone receive most pleasure from flattery. He
was surrounded with crowds, who showed him only one side
of their character; so that he began to lose a regard for private
interest in universal sympathy. He loved all mankind;
for fortune prevented him from knowing that there were rascals.
Physicians tell us of a disorder, in which the whole
body is so exquisitely sensible, that the slightest touch gives pain: what
some
have thus suffered in their persons, this gentleman felt
in his mind. The slightest distress, whether real or fictitious, touched
him to
the quick, and his soul labored under a sickly sensibility
of the miseries of others. Thus disposed to relieve, it will be easily
conjectured, he found numbers disposed to solicit; his
profusions began to impair his fortune, but not his good-nature, that
indeed, was seen to increase as the other seemed to decay;
he grew improvident as he grew poor; and though he talked like a
man of sense his actions were those of a fool. Still,
however, being surrounded with importunity, and no longer able to satisfy
every request that was made him, instead of money he
gave promises. They were all he had to bestow, and
he had not resolution enough to give any man pain by a
denial. By this he drew round him crowds of dependents whom he was
sure to disappoint, yet wished to relieve. These 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 despicable to himself.His mind had leaned upon their
adulation, and that support taken away, he could find
no pleasure in the applause of his heart, which he had never learnt to
reverence. The world now began to wear a different aspect;
the flattery of his friends began to dwindle into simple approbation.
Approbation soon took the more friendly form of advice,
and advice when rejected produced their reproaches. He now
therefore found that such friends as benefits had gathered
round him, were little estimable; he now found that a man's own heart
must be ever given to gain that of another. I now found,
thatthat-I forget what I was going to observe; in short, sir, he resolved
to respect himself, and laid down a plan of restoring
his fallen fortune. For this purpose, in his own whimsical manner, he
travelled through Europe on foot, and now, though he
has scarcely attained the age of thirty, his circumstances are more affluent
than ever. At present his bounties are more rational
and moderate than before; but still he preserves the character of a humorist,
and finds most pleasure in eccentric virtues."
My attention was so taken up by Mr. Burchell's
account, that I scarcely looked forward as we went along, till we were
alarmed by the cries of my family; when turning, I perceived
my youngest daughter in the midst of a rapid stream, thrown from
her horse, and struggling with the torrent. She had sunk
twice, nor was it in my power to disengage myself in time to bring her
relief. My sensations were even too violent to permit
my attempting her rescue; she must have certainly perished had not my
companion, perceiving her danger, instantly plunged in
to her relief, and, with some difficulty, brought her in safety to the
opposite shore. By taking the current a little farther
up, the rest of the family got safely over, where we had an opportunity
of
joining our acknowledgments to hers. Her gratitude may
be more readily imagined than described; she thanked her deliverer
more with looks than words, and continued to lean upon
his arm, as if still willing to receive assistance. My wife also hoped
one
day to have the pleasure of returning his kindness at
her own house. Thus, after we were refreshed 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 pursued our journey, my
wife observing, as we went, that she liked him extremely,
and protesting, that if he had birth and fortune to entitle him to match
in such a family as ours, she knew no man she would sooner
fix upon. I could
not but smile to hear her talk in this lofty strain; but
I was never much displeased with those harmless delusions that tend to
make us more happy.