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THE ADVENTURES OF David Simple. VOLUME THE LAST, IN WHICH His History is concluded.
Sequels to Histories of this kind are so generally decried, and often with such good Reason, that a few Words seem necessary towards an Explanation of the following Design.
The Author of David Simple has, in the two first Volumes, carried him thro' many Disappointments to his desired Port. He sought a faithful Friend and a most amiable and faithful Companion; he found both: the History of his Search therefore was naturally at an end. But our Author was willing to exemplify the Behaviour of a Man endowed with such a Turn of Mind as David Simple, in the natural and common Distresses of this World, to illustrate that well known Observation, that "The Attainment of our Wishes is but too often the Beginning of our Sorrows." And farther to shew, that in a Society united by well directed Affections, and a Similitude of Mind, in which not one Individual has a selfish View, or a single Wish that is not conducive to the Good and Happiness of the Whole, every Evil may be lessened and alleviated, so that chearful Poverty may become almost the Envy of many that are called the Rich and Great.
This Design, it must be confessed, might have been as well executed by raising up a new set of Company of the same Turn of Mind, and giving them new Names; and by this pretended Appearance of Novelty the Readers who seek for such Food only, would have been more gratified: but our Author, who, no less than her own David, would on all Occasions chuse to pursue the unaffected Simplicity she has a Desire to recommend, and who detests all Fallacy and Imposture, is willing to introduce to her Readers their old Friends, with whom if they were once pleased by them, they will undoubtedly not be displeased to renew their former Acquaintance.
It is not the bringing known Characters again upon the Stage that is, or can be decried, if it is done with equal Humour and Spirit, as in their first Appearance; but it is building so much on public Approbation as to endeavour to put off a second-rate insipid Piece, void of the Spirit of the first, that ought to meet with universal Censure. A Character that once pleased, must always please, if thrown into new and interesting Situations; for would any one complain of seeing Sir John Falstaff ever so often repeated, if he always appeared with the same Humour as in the First Part of King Henry IV?
To those People who, from an earnest Thirst after Novelty, shall not be satisfied with the above Reasons, I would beg Leave to address this Question, In what does the Novelty so much required in these kind of Writings consist? Not in Characters so entirely new, as never to have been met with or heard of! For such must be what the French call Outré, or what we may say are either faultless, or hideous Monsters that the World ne'er saw. Not in Circumstances or Situations entirely new, such being equally impossible to find. To suppose it consisted in new names is both childish and trifling. Must it not therefore be said to consist in putting known and remarkable Characters into new Situations?
Why shou'd we not expect, by the Management of a skilful Hand, as great and agreeable a Variety from the Changes upon known Characters and Situations, as in Music from the Changes on twelve half-Notes? The beautiful Novelty of a musical Passage arises not from new simple Sounds, which it is impossible to make, but from a melodious Variation on the same Notes.
To carry on the Allusion still farther between Music and this characteristic sort of Writing, give me Leave to say, that this Novelty of Variation is required only amongst the principal Characters of a Story, in the same Manner as in the leading Notes of a Song or Piece of Music: for it is needless to vary the Under-Characters of the one, any more that the passing Notes of the other. Or, take it in the Light of a Piece of painted History; The Artist has little more to consider, I believe, in his Under-Characters or distant Groupes, than to contrive that they may not be glaring or unnatural, so as to draw your Eyes from the capital Figures, or to confuse the Design.
Suppose in real Life (which these kind of Writings intend to represent) you knew a Man of an uncommon Turn of Mind, who had gone through Difficulties with Resolution, or had in Prosperity shewn such a noble Spirit of Generosity and Beneficence, as had highly raised your Admiration, would it not more awaken your Curiosity, to know how that same Man behaved in a Reverse of Fortune, than to hear any thing of a new Acquaintance?
It is on this Supposition that our Author has ventured once more to bring her David Simple into Public. Her Intention is not to shew how many Man, but how such a Man would support himself under the worldly Misfortunes and Afflictions to which human-kind is liable. And if any of her Readers approve not of her Manner of releasing him from his Difficulties, nothing that can be said by me has any Chance for altering such their Opinion.
Containing a brief Account of the Transaction of eleven Years.
That David Simple, having been for some Years retired from the World, and when all his Transactions had been so long buried in Oblivion, should again appear on the Stage, is owing to his having undergone a Variety of Accidents; and some as remarkable as any in his former Story. I therefore doubt not, but those Persons who were then pleased with his Character, will be no less pleased with knowing the Remainder of so very uncommon a Life: and for those who are yet unacquainted with our Hero, we hope his Character will in the following Pages appear strong enough to need no formal Description, in the Beginning of this Book.
A Man, actuated by neither Avarice nor Ambition, his Mind moving on no other Axis but that of Love, having obtained a Wife his Judgment approves, and his Inclination delights in; seeing, at the same time, all his Friends chearful and pleased around him, seems to be in a State of Happiness, in comparison of which, every thing in this World is trifling. And in this agreeable Situation did David Simple and his Friends continue (with the Exception only of some pecuniary Losses, which could not destroy Felicity so founded) for the space of eleven Years: which Time I shall pass over with as much Brevity as possible, so as to lead my Reader to the Beginning of that Year, in which David Simple began to be convinced that although no Scheme for Happiness could be built on a better Foundation than his; although the Union of Hearts, which subsisted in that happy Family, was sufficient to compensate every common outward Evil; yet there may be such a Concurrence of Events, such heart-rending Scenes, arising from this very friendly Connection, as must undeniably prove the Truth of that Observation, so common both in the Writings and Conversations of Mankind, namely, "That solid and lasting Happiness is not to be attained in this World."
That a frequent Repetition of this Observation is necessary, in order to remind People of its Truth, appears but too plainly, when we see, that notwithstanding the universal Concurrence of Mankind, in all Ages, in its favour, yet their Forgetfulness of it may fairly be concluded from the various and anxious Pursuits, in which they are so universally employed.
David Simple's Family, as we left them in the second Volume, after the double Marriage, consisted of himself and his Camilla, Valentine and his Cynthia, and old Mr. C—, the Father to Valentine and Camilla, who had divided his Fortune equally between them.
This old Gentleman, naturally, was extremely fond of both his Children, although he had been wrought on by Livia, his Wife, to treat them in a most cruel manner: yet, as he had not that stubborn Pride of Mind, which scorns to be forgiven, he was most truly blessed by that affectionate Duty and Regard, which they now exerted towards him. So far, also, was he from being a Burthen or Restraint upon them, that it gave them the highest Pleasure, to find how much it was in their Power to contribute towards their Father's Hppiness. Their united Endeavours were, how to make the Remainder of their Father's Days flow with that Ease and Tranquillity, as might, in some measure, obliterate the Remembrance of those turbulent and uneasy Years, which he had spent with an artful and wicked Woman. A Woman, who was, in reality (whilst he imagined her his greatest Pleasure) the greatest Torment of his Life.
This our happy Family, soon after their Marriage, agreed to leave London, and, together with the old Gentleman, to settle themselves in some pleasant country Village, out of the Reach of that Hurry and Bustle, so very contrary to the Taste of our whole Society. But they could not execute their Purpose so soon as they intended, being kept in Town on Business: for the Ten thousand Pounds, which the old Gentleman had given between his Son Valentine and his Daughter Camilla (whether by the Roguery of his Agent, or the Roguery of any other Person, we think it little material to enquire) was laid out on a bad Mortgage; and, after spending about Five hundred Pounds, and being detained in London a whole Year, they were convinced that the whole Money was irretrievably lost. But this Misfortune broke very little into the Tranquility of our happy Society. It only obliged them to change their Intentions of purchasing an Estate; and they were contented to hire a House, with a pretty Garden and all Conveniences round it, in the pleasantest part of Lincolnshire.
During their Stay in London, Camilla was brought to bed of a Daughter; and, as soon as she was able to undertake the Journey, the whole Society, together with the newborn Camilla, set out for their House in the Country, where they were soon settled, perfectly to their Satisfaction. They passed their Time in a Manner to be imitated by those, who have any Relish for real Pleasure; and to be laughed at and scorned by such as know not how to enjoy any Happiness themselves, and are sure to make every thing around them miserable. But was I to attempt fully to describe the Happiness which subsisted in this Society, where Chearfulness and Good Humour were looked on as the chief Ingredients for Conversation, I am sensible how very short I should fall of my intended Purpose. Those, therefore, of my Readers, who have a Relish for the same kind of Conversation, will, I doubt not, make use of their own Imaginations, in drawing the Picture to the life: but to those, who mistake bon-mots, insulting Raillery, malicious Ridicule, and murtherous Slander for the Attic Salt of Society, I write not. Indeed, to such I cannot write, concerning David, and his Company; as no Words are equal to the raising in such Minds, any true Image of the Pleasures of our happy Society: for to them, Cynthia's Spriteliness (wanting the Relish of biting Jokes and tart Repartees) would appear trifling Insipidity; and the chearful Softness of the gentle Camilla, would, by such, be termed Dullness and Want of Sensibility.
Cynthia and Camilla embraced every Opportunity of directing their Family Affairs when they could not have the Pleasure of conversing with their Husbands. By the Order and Regularity of their Table, of their Servants, and every other domestic Concern, it might easily have been imagined, that their whole Time had been taken up in what is called the Business of Housewifry: yet David, Valentine, and the old Gentleman, enjoyed so much of their amiable Conversation, that they could have almost imagined every thing to have been done by Enchantment, and that Houshold Management had never employed their Thoughts; for no Noise or Bustle was ever heard, but Peace, Calmness, Concord, and Harmony reigned throughout the House.
With so many Blessings as our Society enjoyed, they could not deeply regret the Loss of Fortune, as they were not reduced by it to what they called Straitness of Circumstances: for they were still possessed of enough to gratify every innocent Desire, and no extravagant Wishes did they ever entertain. Nay, David had yet the Power of pursuing, in some degree, his favourite Pleasure, of relieving his distressed Fellow-creatures, and of preventing any of his Neighbourhood from suffering extreme Indigence.
But they had not been settled in this agreeable Tranquility quite a Twelvemonth, before their united Happiness was interrupted by Cynthia's falling into a State of ill Health; for which, a Physician, in the Neighbourhood, advised her to go directly to the Bath, and drink the Waters for one whole Season.
As soon as this was determined, the whole Family intended to remove to the Bath, and to leave only the little Camilla with a careful Servant, in the Country. But the Morning before they undertook their Journey, David received a Letter from London, informing him of an Affair, which was of too much Consequence for him to neglect; that a Person had put in his Claim to the Fortune, which, some Years ago, was left him by his Uncle; and David, on his Arrival in Town, found this Business of so troublesome and intricate a Nature, that his Attendance on it was, for some time, absolutely necessary. Valentine and Cynthia, therefore, pursued their Journey to the Bath. The old Gentleman, their Father, stayed in London, with David and Camilla; for, besides his Age and Infirmities, which made him willingly decline a Journey, he was so doatingly fond of his Daughter Camilla, and her Care and Tenderness towards him was so great, that he could not consent to be separated from her.
The Day after their Arrival in Town, David Simple happened to meet a Gentleman, whose Name was Ratcliff, with whom he had some small Acquaintance before he went into the Country. Mr. Ratcliff seemed overjoyed to meet him; and, on hearing that Business was likely to detain him in Town, insisted, that David, and his Wife, and the old Gentleman, should quit their Lodgings, and make his House their Home, while they remained in London: and in this Invitation Mrs. Ratcliff also politely concurred with her Husband.
As Mr. Ratcliff was a Man of Fortune, and could easily admit of such an occasional Addition to his Family, David, without Hesitation, accepted his Offer: for a Mind so ready as his was, to give Assistance or Pleasure to his Friends, must be conscious, that in the like Circumstances, he should have rejoiced in the same Opportunity. And, therefore, instead of being alarmed at the Thought of receiving an Obligation, he found some Satisfaction in the Thought, that, by accepting this Invitation, he should give his Friend the Opportunity of enjoying what was his own favourite Pleasure.
Camilla was, at this time, so big with Child, that they had, on that account, hastened their intended Journey, in order that she might have lain-in at Bath: this Circumstance made Mr. Ratcliff and his Wife the more pressing for their immediate coming to their House. And Mr. Ratcliff said, that should the Child prove a Boy, he would be his God-father, and adopt him for his own Son; and Mrs. Ratcliff made the same Offer, should the Child prove a Girl.
In about three Weeks, Camilla was brought to-bed of a Boy, and he was christened by the name of Peter, after his God-father; for Camilla, although it would have been her Choice, that her first Son should have borne the Name of her much-loved Husband, would not oppose Mr. Ratcliff's Request, or even mention her own Choice, whilst there was the least Probability, that her Son's Interest might be forwarded by complying with whatever Mr. Ratcliff should in reason desire.
David now began to find that the Business, which called him to Town, was of a more perplexing and troublesome Nature than he at first imagined; and that he was likely to be involved in a tedious and expensive Law Suit: for the Person who had made this pretended Claim to the Estate, left to David by his Uncle, was a young Fellow of a very large Fortune, but who had, by his Father, been put Clerk to an Attorney, and, by that means, was very learned in all the Tricks of the Law. David Simple, therefore, when he considered the superior Fortune of his Antagonist, and that he must contend with one, who could not, indeed, so properly be styled learned in the Laws, as versed in the Knowledge of every shuffling Art to evade their Force, and to make them subservient to his own Purposes, was convinced in his own Mind, that he shou'd be much the least out of pocket, by giving up at once the whole Money: but this Purpose not one of his Friends would suffer him to execute; and Mr. Ratcliff pronounced him a Madman for the Thought; but told him, if he would put his Affairs into the hands of Mr. Parker, his Attorney, his Cause would be carried on with all due Expedition and Integrity: and Mr. Ratcliff likewise hinted (but made no absolute Promise) that he himself would give him any Support that might be wanting, to enable him to maintain his Right.
After two Months Stay in London, David began to find, that his personal Attendance was not necessary towards carrying on this Law Suit, in which, much against his own Judgment, he was now engaged. Giving, therefore, all proper Instructions to his Attorney, he determined to go, as soon as possible, into the Country. And what confirmed him in this Resolution, was the Hope of meeting his Brother Valentine, from whom he had just received the agreeable News, that Cynthia had found from the Bath Waters all the Benefit that could have been expected.
David acquainted Valentine with the Difficulties he had found, and which he was still likely to encounter, from the Embarrassment of a Chancery Suit, and they agreed to part with their House in Lincolnshire, and to take a small neat Tenement, which Valentine had heard of, in a pleasant Village called Heddington, about twenty Miles from the Bath, and only a Mile out of the great London Road. David himself took a Journey to Lincolnshire, and brought back with him his little Camilla, now near two Years old; and, taking leave of Mr. Ratcliff's Family, with a Heart really overflowing with Gratitude for their Civility and Kindness, he, and his Camilla, the old Gentleman, and the two Children, set out for their House at Heddington, where they were met by Valentine and Cynthia from the Bath.
The Meeting of our Society might properly be called a Meeting of Joy. It was a Reward for their Separation, and fully compensated to them all the anxious Thoughts they had suffered for each other, in Absence. Cynthia, whose Temper and Understanding not even ill Health could impair or disturb (and who, in the weakly State of her Body, could never properly be called peevish, even by her Enemies, and by her Friends could only be perceived to be languid) had now recovered her usual Vivacity, and enjoyed to the utmost, her chief Delight, that of being able to communicate Pleasure. The meeting of these Friends was very unlike the common meeting of Persons long absent. It was not a Relation of trifling matters of Fact, collected only to give the Relator the Pleasure of talking; but it was a general Communication of such things only as were of consequence in their own Nature, or which were made so by the Interest each Individual had in whatever related to the whole, and by the Power our Society possessed and exerted, of rendering every Image agreeable. Nor did they, this Evening, interrupt their chearful Conversation by introducing the disagreeable State of their Affairs by their Law Suit, nor was any kind of what is generally called Business once mentioned amongst them.
Some little time before David and his Family last left London, he began to find some small Alteration in Mr. Ratcliff's Behaviour towards him; yet, in proportion as friendly Actions decreased, friendly Professions flowed the more largely; and his absolute Promise to provide for his Godson little Peter, and to adopt him as Heir to his large Fortune, made both David and his Camilla overlook many Slights, and submit also to his authoritative manner of directing them in all their Proceedings.
When our happy Society had been settled about a Week at Heddington, they received a Message from Mr. Orgueil, and his Wife, "That, if they saw Company, they would wait on them."
David was greatly astonished at the Message, and, indeed, not a little averse to the Thought of renewing an Acquaintance with a Man, of whose Principles he had so just an Abhorrence. Yet, on the other hand, when he reflected, that the only Account he had received of Mr. Orgueil came from Spatter, who never gave any one a good Character (and whom, on further Acquaintance, he could not think an Object of his Esteem) he hoped Orgueil might not be so bad a Man as he had been represented. Besides, as the being guilty of even the Appearance of Rudeness or Ill-manners, was repugnant to the Nature of any of this Society, they could not but agree to return a civil Message; but, although they would not shun an offered Acquaintance, they intended, as they saw Occasion, to avoid an Intimacy.
Mr. Orgueil had been settled in that Village about a Year, having bought a large Estate, with a very fine House on it: for Mrs. Orgueil brought him a Fortune of above Thirty thousand Pounds. In this Visit they were both excessively civil to David and his whole Family. Mr. Orgueil seemed very assiduous to renew their former Friendship; and, by his particular Civility and obliging Behaviour to the old Gentleman, who was greatly pleased with his polite Address, he, in a manner, before they were aware, drew them into a much greater Intimacy than they at first intended.
This Intimacy was now almost unavoidably encreased by Mrs. Orgueil's being brought to-bed of a Daughter, whom she called Henrietta-Cassandra; and, during her lying-in, she affected such a Fondness for Cynthia and Camilla, that she would hardly ever be without the Company of one, if not of both; and, as it was the Characteristic of this Society, to suffer an Inconvenience themselves, rather than to decline giving Pleasure to those, for whom they professed an Esteem, they could not refuse staying with Mrs. Orgueil, at all such times as their Convenience would possibly admit, till she was again able to go abroad.
Cynthia and Camilla had also each of them a Daughter born, about three Months after the Birth of Mrs. Orgueil's Henrietta-Cassandra. David called his Child Fanny, and Valentine gave his Daughter the Name of his beloved Wife. Cynthia's Constitution being but weakly, her Husband would not suffer her to attempt being a Nurse: and Mrs. Dunster, Wife to the Farmer who rented most part of Mr. Orgueil's Estate, having just lost a fine Child, of two Months old, (and being a very healthy, neat, honest, good-humoured Woman) the little Cynthia was committed to her Care.
Farmer Dunster and his Wife were plain well-meaning People, and, although they rented a very large Farm, yet they did not affect to live above their Station. The Farmer industriously and constantly attended his Business: and his Wife, instead of dressing, and imitating the Manners of a Lady, was contented to be called Dame, and valued herself upon the Goodness of her Butter and the Beauty of her Poultry. Out of nine Children, they had only one Girl left, who was now ten Years old, and who, even at that Age, was a Help and Assistant to her Mother. This good Girl was so handy and careful about the little Cynthia, that she seemed to have almost as good a Claim as Mrs. Dunster, to be called her Foster-mother.
David and all his Family were exceedingly fond of the Farmer and his Wife. The Simplicity of their Manners was so effectual a Recommendation to our Society, that it gave a weight to whatever they said: and as they related many humane Actions of Mr. Orgueil, both towards themselves and others of the Neighbourhood, David Simple was induced once more to consider him as his Friend.
I would not be understood to mean, by the Word Friend, a Person answering the Idea of what David Simple, in the former part of his Life, made the Object of his Pursuit. His Search in that respect was happily ended; for in his Brother Valentine and the amiable Cynthia, he enjoyed the highest Happiness that Warmth of Friendship, unassisted by any more tender or interesting Connection, could give; and in his Camilla he enjoyed the highest Pleasure that even his Imagination could ever have formed from the Union of two Hearts, capable of receiving, and disposed to give, reciprocal Delight. But this Friendship with Mr. Orgueil was no more than what is generally called by that Name; that is to say, a greater Intimacy than subsists among common Acquaintance. And whilst Mr. Orgueil was civil to our whole Society; ready, on all Occasions, to do obliging things; nay while they even promised David, on understanding tha this Circumstances were greatly reduced, to assist him with his Fortune; they could not avoid giving, to the great Importunity of both Mr. Orgueil and his Wife, much more of their Time and Conversation than was agreeable to their Inclinations. Nevertheless, if Cynthia had strenuously urged them to have been guided by her Judgment, an Intimacy between Persons whose Minds were so utterly incapable of having the least Sympathy with each other, would soon have been dropped, whatever might have been the Consequence.
It was now two Years since the happy meeting of our Society at Heddington, when Camilla was brought to-bed of her fourth Child, which being a Girl, Mrs. Orgueil desired to stand God-mother. This Request was not likely to be refused, and they also civilly paid her the Compliment of begging her to give the Child a Name; and, according to her Desire, the Child was christened Joan . This Circumstance may appear trifling, but yet was it of consequence enough to give Mrs. Orgueil great Pleasure, for she delighted as much in opposing the Sound of Joan to Henrietta-Cassandra, as if she could by that means have heightened or lowered the real Value of the two Children: but, could she have seen the Hearts of David and his Camilla, she would have been greatly disappointed, for they were much better pleased than if she had given the Child the romantic Name of her own Daughter; Cynthia too, often smiled, on observing the Delight Mrs. Orgueil took, in immediately introducing at full length, after asking for little Joan, the Words,—my Henrietta-Cassandra.
In two Years more, Camilla had another Boy; and, as there was now no Objection to her indulging herself in calling him by the Name of her beloved Husband, he was christened David.
Just at this time, David Simple received a Letter from Mr. Parker, his Lawyer, informing him, that there was no likelyhood of his Law Suit's being yet ended; but, at the same time, desiring more Money, and enpressing great Confidence of carrying the Point at last.
David was, indeed, satisfied of the Justice of his Cause, and, on that account, would naturally have been as little doubtful of Success as Mr. Parker: but when he considered that he had been above five Years already kept in suspense, and when he reflected on all the litigious Arts made use of by his Antagonist, he durst not build his Hopes on any such Foundation. He, therefore, once more wrote to Mr. Ratcliff, declaring his Resolution to give up the Affair, and to pay off Mr. Parker's Bill, which was upwards of Fourteen hundred Pounds, whilst yet it was in his Power; lest he should not only be deprived of the means of supporting his Family, but should be torn from them, by having contracted a heavy Load of Debts, which he could not answer. To this Mr. Ratcliff answered, that now it was more Madness than ever, to admit such a Thought; for the Case was so clear on his side, that dropping his Suit, was the same thing as giving away so much Money, already indisputably in his own Possession. He then again repeated his Promise of providing for his Godson Peter; but added, that he should not be pleased to have his adopted Son and Heir the Brother to Beggars: and concluded with observing, that he should be justified, not only to himself, but to all the World, in deserting a Man who wilfully deserted himself, and the Interest of his whole Family.
Now first was David Simple seized with some Degree of that Timidity of Mind, which he afterwards more fully experienced; and though in his own Opinion (and in that of the whole Society) it appeared most prudent to keep his Resolution, and drop his Chancery Suit; yet he feared to lose the Favour of a Man, who was so able, and who declared himself so willing to provide amply for his Son: he, therefore, after much perplexing Deliberation, acquainted Mr. Ratcliff, that he would submit to his Judgment, and leave his Cause to the Decision of the Law. Mr. Orgueil also highly approved Mr. Ratcliff's Advice in this Case, and strenuously urged David's Acquiescence with it; telling him that a Man of his peculiar way of thinking, ought always, in worldly Affairs, to be directed by Men of Prudence and Experience; hinting, at the same time, how liable he had been, in the former art of his Life, to be imposed on and deceived.
And here, if I might be permitted a little to depart from the Brevity I promised in this first part of our History, I would detain my Reader by some Observations on the capricious Judgments that are shewn in passing Sentence on the Words and Actions of a Man, who is actuated by no other Motives than the simple Dictates of an honest Heart.
If, from judging of others by himself, such a Man is imposed on, by the false Colours hung out to deceive him, and thereby becomes the Sacrifice of his own Simplicity, he is thought the proper Object for Ridicule, and the Words simple and silly are immediately made synonimous: but if, after some Experience of the World, he should, in his future Transactions, be guided by that Experience, to act consistently with it, and should thereby avoid those Evils to which his Inexperience rendered him liable, he is suddenly metamorphosed into a cunning Fellow; and those very Persons, who had before laughed at his Folly, can now clearly enough distinguish the Meaning of the Word Simplicity, to blame him for his Want of it; without considering the essential Difference there is between the proper Caution built on Experience, and that unjust Suspicion of all Mankind, which often, if not always, arises from the Knowledge of harbouring in our own Bosoms a false and malignant Heart.
David's Situation, in point worldly Affairs, was now made more untoward and perplexing, from the Uncertainty of his impending Suit, than it could have been from the narrowest Circumstances: since the latter could not so much have affected the Minds of Persons, who practised, as far as possible, the Lesson of being contented in any Situation, and of submitting to every outward Accident with Patience: for by this Uncertainty he knew not what he was worth, or whether he was not buying daily Bread with Money that he should hereafter be called on to refund.
Those who are blessed with Prosperity and Affluence, and who have never experienced a Perplexity of this kind, may, perhaps, absolutely condemn David Simple, for not instantly reducing his Expences to the very Standard he must have done, had he already lost his Cause. But from the Sentence of such, I must beg leave to appeal to the Judgment of others, who, with the like beneficent Hearts, have been in the like Circumstances: and if by them David Simple be condemned for driving far off from his Mind Despondency and absolute Despair of Success; for still continuing (without an exact provident Calculation) to afford his Family and Friends the Comforts of Life, without one of the Extravagancies; and for still persisting to relieve any real Objects of Distress, without clinching his Hand by thinking on his Law Suit; I must submit; and will allow them to join with Orgueil and Ratcliff in all the Reproaches they hereafter bestow on David Simple, for his Imprudence.
Two Years more passed, and still there was no Determination of the Law Suit: but in the mean time Mr. Ratcliff continued to write what are called friendly Letters (though interpersed with that imperious Advice which generally flows from Superiority in point of Fortune) and desired, that his God-son Peter, now near seven Years old, might, at his Expence, be sent to School; and he paid that Deference to David's Judgment, as to leave the Choice of a Master to him.
Camilla was very desirous that the Boy might be sent to some private School, as dreading the Vices that are too frequently contracted at public ones: and accordingly little Peter was put under the Care of a Gentleman, who never increased his Number of Boys beyond the Power of his own careful Eye.
As sending the Child to School was Mr. Ratcliff's Desire (or rather Command) they did not care to dispute it; otherwise, it was very evident, that in going from Home, he quitted a Place of certain Improvement, for the Chance only of being where he barely might not learn less—more he could not learn; for the chief Study and Employment of our Society, was to improve the Understandings, and meliorate the Dispositions of their Children; and never was Labour (if such it might be styled) better rewarded.
Little Camilla, now eight Years old, was a most amiable Child. In her Person she was a complete Pattern of Elegance and Beauty. She had that Lustre and Sweetness in her Countenance, which must always proceed from the strongest Understanding, and the mildest Disposition. She already shewed an uncommon Genius to Music and Drawing, in the Improvement of which she was indulged as far as was necessary to enable her to make a Progress in both, by her own Industry and Application.
Young Peter was in his Person so like his Father, that no one could see him without crying out, "O! here comes little David." And this Circumstance, trifling as it may appear, often put the whole Family in Tears. For the sweet little Boy's Sensibility of Look, on the Mistake of his Name, with a gentle Sigh, which seemed to shew a Regret, that he was, by a strange Adoption, in a Manner excluded from his Birth-right, gave his Parents such a peculiar kind of tender Sensation, as I cannot pretend to give my Readers any Idea of, unless they will again assist me, by the Help of their own Imaginations.
Fanny and her Cousin Cynthia, born within two Days of each other, now six Years old, and both of them beautiful Girls, were so exactly alike, that they were continually mistaken for Twin Sisters: and it was a frequent Diversion among them to see Dame Dunster kiss and hug the little Fanny, as thinking her to be her Nursing Cynthia.
Mrs. Orgueil's God-daughter Joany, now five Years old, was, to the great Joy of her God-mother, not so completely beautiful as her Sister's, and in Fairness of Skin, was much inferior to her own Daughter Henrietta-Cassandra; for which Reason she grew extremely fond of the Child, and seemed as much pleased with contrasting their Complexions as their Names. Though, in truth, little Joan was a fine fresh coloured Girl, the very Picture of Health and Good-humour, and was so tall of her Age, that is occasioned Mrs. Orgueil to be once asked, if Miss Joan was not older than Miss Cassy; on which Mrs. Orgueil took such Offence at the Child, for having, although a Year younger, outstripped her Daughter in Growth, that she would never more suffer her to come within her Doors. Nay, the very Name that she herself had given her, sounded (she said) so very vulgar, that it increased her Aversion to her; and frequently did Miss Cassy upbraid the poor Child, that Joan was not the Name of a Gentlewoman.
Of little David, now only three Years old, no more can be said, but that his pleasing Smiles, and honest open Countenance, promised every thing that it is possible for an affectionate Parent to wish.
Notwithstanding the untoward Situation of Affairs before mentioned, still might our Society be styled the happy Family. Such a Union of Hearts, such a Harmony of Disposition; a Society, where the meaning of the bad Passions of Malice and Envy could not have been understood, had they never conversed out of their own House, could not be ruffled or discomposed, but by a Separation, or seeing any one amongst them afflicted with Sickness, or any other real Calamity. And, indeed, little Peter's leaving them, to be sent to School, caused, for the present, a Scene of Grief amongst his young Companions, that even a Command to them from David and Valentine, not any longer to indulge that Grief, was necessary towards restoring the Tranquility of the Nursery.
Such an increasing Family and decreasing Fortune, would have been enough of itself to have rendered some Minds miserable; but David and his Camilla (as they confined not Happiness to any particular Station) were fully convinced, that if they rooted from their Children's Breasts all kind of Malevolence, and instilled into their Minds the Principles of true Religion, they should give them the best Foundation for Felicity this World can afford. And they likewise considered a large Number of Children as a larger Number of Chances for even worldly Prosperity; since (as they observed) it seldom happens, but out of so many, ONE will be successful; and little indeed must their Children have profited by the Precepts and Example of such Parents, if the Prosperity of ONE should not be the Prosperity of ALL.
Betty Dunster, from the time little Cynthia was taken home from Nurse, had been so frequently amongst the Children, and was of so docile a Disposition, that she learned many things, by attending to the Instructions given them by Camilla. And Cynthia herself, seeing the Girl had a Capacity and Understanding capable of Improvement, had taught her to write and read. Little Camilla had also learned from Betty Dunster to knit and to spin Flax, and was so perfect in both, that, before it was known she could do either, she presented her Mother with a pair of Stockings, spun and knit by herself.
Mrs. Orgueil began to be very uneasy at Betty Dunster's being so much in David's Family and therefore told her Mother, that she wondered a Woman of her Prudence would suffer her Daughter to be ruined by being accustomed to nothing but Sloth and Idleness, as must be the case while she threw away all her Time amongst such a Set of lazy extravagant People.
"Indeed, Madam (says Mrs. Dunster) I never upon going into the House found them lazy or idle, since I have known them; and I hope my Child won't be ruined, for she tells me they be all very kind to her; and Madam Cynthia herself has taught her to write and read."
"Ay, Romances, I suppose (says Mrs. Orgueil) fine reading, indeed, for a Country Wench! and you will find what a pretty Figure she will make, when, after she is married to some honest Farmer, she is caught, instead of minding her Dairy, poring over a Romance."
"I never heard her talk, Madam, of such Books (says Mrs. Dunster ) but she tells me, that she often reads History and the Bible to the Children."
"I tell you (says Mrs. Orgueil) that Reading is not a proper Employment for a Farmer's Daughter; and although you are so infatuated, as not to see what will be the Ruin of your own Child, I myself have such a Love for the Girl, that I am resolved to save her from Destruction, by taking her into my own Family: and, if she can be made to forget all the Stuff Cynthia has taught her, and behaves well, I will keep her as my Woman. Or, if Miss Cassy should like her, she may be her Maid. And she will find some Difference between living in my House in any Station, and herding with a Parcel of beggarly Wits."
Mrs. Dunster, though she had but a moderate Share of Understanding, yet from a good honest Heart, easily perceived the Difference there would, indeed, be to her poor Girl; but she durst not, by a Refusal, disoblige Mrs. Orgueil, or seem displeased with her Offer; and yet so little Joy did she express for this Prospect of her Daughter's Advancement, that Mrs. Orgueil bid her be gone, for an ignorant ungrateful Fool, and send her Husband thither directly.
As soon as the Farmer arrived, Mrs. Orgueil complained of the Insensibility of his Wife, and repeated to him the Honour she intended his Daughter.
The Farmer, from a late Misfortune of a Person's dying insolvent, who owed him a large Sum of Money, was, at this time, so far behind-hand in his Rent, that he lay too much at Mr. Orgueil's Mercy to deny any thing to him or his Lady; he therefore said, he would immediately send the Girl thither; who, as soon as she entered the House, was strictly ordered by Mrs. Orgueil never again to set her foot within David Simple's Doors.
Mrs. Orgueil did not want what is commonly called Parts, or Understanding; but, from the Malignity of her Heart, was always acting what should be the Characteristic of a Fool, namely, destroying her own Purposes. She set a high Value on her own Understanding, and therefore Cynthia, who, from a Spriteliness and Vivacity of Temper, generally carried the Lead in Conversation, soon became the Object of her Envy, and from thence a most inveterate Hatred of Cynthia took root in her Mind. She loved not Camilla, but would sometimes pretend towards her (out of Opposition to Cynthia) the highest degree of Affection. Although she had not Goodness or Simplicity of Heart enough to really value the amiable Qualities of Camilla, yet in the vain hope of supplanting Cynthia in her Favour, she was generally very assiduous and obliging to her, and also to Cynthia ; for she had Cunning enough to know, that upon her Civility to Cynthia depended her Acquaintance with Camilla. Numberless were her Arts to ingratiate herself by Flattery with Camilla, but fruitless were all such Endeavours; for so uncommon were the Characters of Cynthia and Camilla, and so very extraordinary their Friendship, that they had often talked over the Difference of their Capacities and Dispositions with the same Freedom as if they had been mentioning the Difference of their Height or Size.
The true Source of all those Heart-burnings and Uneasinesses, that Mankind are so good as to bestow upon themselves, when no outward Shocks attack them, seems to be setting too high a Value on any Faculties whatever of the Mind, or any Beauty of the Person. Hence arises that Malice and Envy, from which Families and Friends often cause each others Misery, when they might have it in their Power to be Blessings to each other, would every one, like our little Family, sit down contented with their own Share of either mental or outward Qualifications.
Cynthia did not put on a silly Affectation of not knowing the Strength of her own Understanding; but, on the other hand, she knew its Value; she was sensible she did not give it herself, nor was she ignorant that it was according to the Use it was made of, whether it was of any Value at all; nay, she pursued this sort of Knowledge so far, as to discover, that, by being made an ill Use of, it would turn to her Disadvantage.
She could not but know that she was possessed of something a larger Share of what is generally called Genius, or Parts, than Camilla was; but the Comparison would never once have come into her Thoughts, if such Persons as Mrs. Orgueil had not made it a Subject of their own Conversation. Insult to any one breathing never flowed from Cynthia's Bosom; then where could one Notion of insult to her Camilla find a Place for Entrance? Goodness alone was the Object of her Esteem; she sought a Companion fraught with Innocence, and a Mind free from Malice, the least Degree of which venomous Quality peeping forth from behind the most dazzling Wit and entertaining Humour, had, in her Opinion, destroyed the whole Pleasure.
If Cynthia knew her Understanding, without being proud of it, Camilla could acknowledge it without Envy, and David was sensible of it without abating one Tittle of his Love for his Wife; or in the Person of his Wife, desiring to pull down Cynthia. And every Advantage and Pleasure arising from any Faculty of the Mind, was as much shared in this Society, as any other Property whatever.
It is very strange that Mrs. Orgueil, with an ample Fortune, without any real Misfortunes to afflict her, enjoying Plenty, Health, and every Blessing that can be thought on, in this World, made herself a most miserable Woman, and perplexed and tormented her own Mind about nothing; forgetting the Abundance she possessed, and straining after an imaginary Good, she could never possibly reach; whilst the Person, concerning whom she thought proper thus to torment herself (when any very shocking Strokes did not attend her) possessed her own Mind in quiet, and gave herself no Trouble about the Schemes or Inventions of any other Persons.
And yet Mrs. Orgueil was forever throwing out the Word Contempt; but with a little serious Examination, she might have made a Discovery of much more Benefit to herself, than any of those she ever made of Cynthia's Cunning, namely, that she despised nobody but herself. For can any Contempt in the World be so high, as to put it in the Power of every Person you come near to rack and torment your Mind? Even Betty Dunster, if she but dropped a Word accidentally, in Commendation of Cynthia's Good Humour or Affability, or but shewed a Remembrance of any thing she had ever told her, could teaze Mrs. Orgueil as much as if she had fallen under any real Misfortune, of which the following Instance is a pretty strong Proof.
One Morning Mrs. Orgueil came into the Nursery, and found Betty Dunster telling Henrietta-Cassandra a Story, to which the Child seemed to hearken with more Attention than she usually gave to any thing. Mrs. Orgueil, recollecting she had heard Cynthia tell this Story, and having some Suspicion that it was of her own Invention, grew so out of Humour, that had any Person been present, who had not been thoroughly acquainted with Mrs. Orgueil, the poor Girl must have appeared to have been guilty of some great Crime; and yet her Crossness only broke forth in Hints; for she was so unhappy as to harbour in her Breast what she did not chuse her Servant should find out. But she desired, her Child might not be poisoned with a parcel of nonsensical Stories; for she had much rather, she said, have found her diverting the Child with some of her new Play-things. Then she threw about all the stigmatizing Words she could think on, such as Creatures, Trollops, &c. till poor Betty Dunster was put to flight, and durst not, for a long time, approach her enraged Presence.
But I shall not here any longer dwell on the Behaviour of Mrs. Orgueil to our Society, which was sometimes extremely civil, and at other times over-bearing and insolent; and I shall also pass over the various ways she practised to sow Dissention where there was no Soil for it to grow: nor will I relate the innumerable perverse and sly Tricks of her Daughter Henrietta-Cassandra, or the Patience and obliging Behaviour of all the Children, to please and divert the wayward Mind of a Girl, bred up in the very School of Insolence; but will pass on to that Period of Time (which was nine Years after our Society left London) in which David received a Letter from Mr. Parker, his Attorney, acquainting him, that the Cause was given against him; but that Mr. Ratcliff advised him to appeal it to the House of Lords. Of this Advice, as it came not from Mr. Ratcliff himself, David Simple took no Notice, but ordered Mr. Parker to bring in his Account; and after settling that, and all his other Expences, he found himself worth to the Value of One hundred Pounds, and no more.
David wrote directly to Mr. Ratcliff, acquainting him with his Resolution of taking a very small House in the same Village where they now lived; and that, in Conformity to their reduced Circumstances, they all intended to help towards the Support of their Family by the Work of their Hands. To this Mr. Ratcliff returned an Answer, full of the warmest Professions of Friendship; expressive of the most poignant Grief for his Misfortunes; adding the strongest Assurances of future Favour to his God-son little Peter, and the most hearty Wishes for his Success and Prosperity. But not any Mention or Hint was there to be found in this Letter, of the least Intention to give any present Assistance to the Distress of his dear Friend, which (by his own Confession) he imagined to be so very great, that he declared, "It pierced his very Soul."
About a Week before David received Mr. Parker's Letter, Mr. Orgueil and his Wife were gone into Yorkshire, intending to stay three Months; and in their Absence David fixed the before-mentioned Resolution; and no sooner was it fixed, than put in Execution. The small House was taken. The other was quitted. All the unnecessary Furniture was sold, to pay off the Rent; and every Servant was discharged, but one honest Girl, who had lived with them ever since their Marriage, and now begged to remain, in order to assist in the most laborious Part of their Houshold Work.
Thus settled in their humble Cottage, still might our Society retain the Name of The happy Family. Little Camilla, now eleven Years old, was more serviceable both to her Parents and her Brothers and Sisters, than many Girls of sixteen are either capable or willing to be: and the old Gentleman used to say, he would not change his two little Handmaids, Fanny and little Cynthia, for the best Waiting-maids in the King's Dominions. Little David, by his Spriteliness and engaging childish Play, gave them continual Entertainment: and could any of those People (if any such there are) who cannot believe that Happiness can subsist without Riches, have been Witnesses to the Mirth and Chearfulness that every Day passed in the thatched House of David Simple, they would not have believed but our Society were secretly possessed of some locked-up hidden Treasure. A Treasure, indeed they had; but locked up no-where, but in their own clear Breasts. As they knew not Guilt, they knew not gloomy Anguish of Mind: and as they had suffered, as yet, no material Separation, so they had not tasted of that temporary Sorrow, which, though enough to embitter our Cup, is not sufficient to subdue a Christian Mind, whose Reliance on a future State is its only Foundation for Happiness.
Yet here must I pause. —And to those People who can have any Idea of the Happiness that still subsisted amongst our Society, and can conceive, that, exclusive of worldly Prosperity, they enjoyed the most perfect Harmony, will I venture to say, with Milton,
"I now must changeyet no
"foul Distrust and BreachFor, like Job, David Simple patiently submitted to the temporary Sufferings allotted him: and, from a Dependance on his Maker, acquired that Chearfulness and Calmness of Mind, which is not in the Power of the highest worldly Prosperity, without such a Dependance, to bestow.
A Distress arising from the Prospect of an Advancement in Fortune.
David and his Family were, to their great Comfort, quite settled in their new Habitation before the Return of Mr. and Mrs. Orgueil; for their Presence would, in all Probability, only have embarrassed them, and prevented their following their own Schemes with proper Alacrity: and, if any Judgment can be formed by their general Method of acting, this Couple would have been very generous of such Advice as David's Circumstances would not admit him to follow; which Advice, nevertheless, they would not have given him the least Assistance to pursue. But, very unexpectedly, on their Return Mr. Orgueil expressed his Concern for David's broken Fortune, in Terms as strong as his Philosophy would suffer him; and kindly made a Proposal for Valentine and Cynthia, which appeared highly to their Advantage. For he shewed them a Letter he had received from the Governor of Jamaica (with whom he had lived in a State of Intimacy from his Youth) acquainting him, that there was at present such an Opening in the Law, that if any Friend of his, whom he would recommend, knowing something of that Profession, would come over thither, he might easily make his Fortune. And he also added, that if the Person recommended was a married Man, he would give him a Plantation, as another Chance of providing for his Wife and Family.
Valentine, although he had been bred to no Profession, had acquired such a general Knowledge of the Laws of his Country, that, with a very little Application, he was capable of attaining a sufficient Knowledge therein; and therefore Mr. Orgueil proposed to recommend him to his Friend, the Governor, if he would undertake the Voyage. They were all filled with Gratitude for Mr. Orgueil's Kindness, and Valentine accepted the Offer with a thankful Heart.
But now first did our Society find a Difficulty in determining their future Proceedings: for although any Prospect of Success in worldly Affairs, must, at this Time, be very pleasing to them all, yet a Separation from each other, could not but be a great Abatement to that Pleasure.
David and Camilla would not one Moment have deliberated on accompanying Valentine and Cynthia, and taking with them their whole Family, had not the old Gentleman's Age and Infirmities rendered such a Voyage dangerous, and almost impracticable for him: yet his Unwillingness to part with his Son Valentine, would have tempted him to have undertaken any thing ever so hazardous. But what rendered this being torn, I may say, from each other quite unavoidable, was another Letter that David just at this time received from Mr. Ratcliff, acquainting him, that he could now give him the Pleasure of knowing an Affair he had hitherto concealed, from Fear of its Success; which was, that he had been, for some time (he said) soliciting, in his Behalf, a very great Man, for a Place, worth Six hundred Pounds a Year, requiring no Attendance; for, by paying a Deputy Two hundred, he might live entirely in the Country. Mr. Ratcliff also added, that he now found his Friend, the great Man, strongly disposed to serve him, and had got from him an absolute Promise of the Place, on the Death of the present Possessor, who was so very old and infirm, that it was thought he could not hold it above a Month. And he concluded his Letter with desiring David not to have a Thought of accompanying Valentine to Jamaica, whom he congratulated very highly on his present good Fortune.
Thus did all Circumstances at present combine to force our Society to a Separation. This Letter of Mr. Ratcliff's joined to the old Gentleman's weak State of Body before mentioned, determined David and Camilla to remain in England. But Mr. Ratcliff's total Failure of all his Promises of assisting David Simple in his Law Suit, had made too deep an Impression on his Mind, to suffer him to persuade his Brother Valentine, on the Strength of his Letter, to lay aside his Voyage, and to give up what appeared to him much the most probable Prospect of Success. They, therefore, at once determined to submit to a Parting, which they hoped might, in a few Years, be the Means of a happy Meeting to the whole Society.
Mr. Orgueil highly approved their Resolution; and his Wife, in a very particular Manner, seemed to rejoice in the good Fortune of Valentine and Cynthia; but (mixed with her Congratulations) she could not forbear advising Camilla to intreat her Friend Cynthia not to baffle her Husband's Success, and make Enemies in the Island, by her Pride; and, above all things, to be careful not to display her Wit at the Expence of her Judgment. And she also farther hinted what a Blessing it would be to Camilla, to be no longer under the Influence of Cynthia's governing Spirit.
But what made the going out of England still more irksome to Valentine and Cynthia, was that their little Daughter was in such an ill State of Health, that they dared not carry her with them; and drinking the Bath Waters was, by every one, thought the only Chance she had of being cured. The present untoward Circumstances of our Society, made it almost impossible for the Child to come at this Means of Recovery. But this Difficulty also seemed to be removed by Mrs. Orgueil; for her Henrietta-Cassandra had just now taken such a Fit of Fondness for little Cynthia, that her Mother, in order to please her own Daughter, offered, in very obliging Terms, to carry the Child with her to the Bath, whither she was going for the next Season.
This Offer carried with it the outward Appearance of every thing that could, at this Time, be pleasing; yet Cynthia, in her Heart, was more perplexed than rejoiced at it. Not from that misplaced Fondness of desiring, for her own Pleasure, to keep her Child with her, at the Expence of that Child's Health or Welfare, for she had before intended to leave her behind with Camilla, in order, if possible, for her to be sent to the Bath; but she dreaded nothing so much for her dear little Cynthia, as being subjected to the Power of Mrs. Orgueil. Yet here again she was prevailed on to give up her own Judgment: for Camilla, from knowing the Softness of her own Heart, was led into that grand Mistake, of imagining there are some Circumstances that render it impossible for any Creature, wearing a human Form, to exercise Cruelty; and she thought, that a helpless, poor, sick Infant was too strongly the Object of Compassion for any human Creature to resist its Force. Being actuated, therefore, by this Mistake, and strongly desiring that the Child might have the Benefit of the Bath Waters, she urged many Reasons to prevail on Cynthia to accept Mrs. Orgueil's Offer. She dwelt particularly on the Impossibility of her Daughter's being neglected, as honest good-natured Betty Dunster was to go with Mrs. Orgueil, and the Child would be in a manner under her Care. Cynthia, therefore, although not without great Reluctance, yielded at last to the Persuasions of Camilla, and gave an unwilling Consent.
A Letter now came to Mr. Orgueil, from the Master of a West-India Vessel, who said, that, to oblige him, he would give the Gentleman and Lady, whom he had mentioned, their Passage to Jamaica ; but that they must set out in a Day or two, at furthest, for he could not any longer delay his Voyage.
The small Stock of Money David was now possessed of, he divided with his Friends, to enable them to defray any unlooked-for Expences; and this was the first time the Word DIVIDED could, with any Propriety, have been used, in relating the Transactions of our Society; for SHARING in common, without any Thought of separate Property, had ever been their friendly Practice, from their first Connection.
It was just three Days before Mrs. Orgueil's intended Journey to the Bath, that Valentine and Cynthia, by being forced to part from their Father—their Children— (for in Affection all the little ones of this united Family, were equally theirs)—their other selves, I may say, in David and his Wife, now felt the first Stroke that had Power to reach their Hearts since their happy Union. And although they had ever made it their principal Study to fortify their Minds against ever Accident, and their chief Lesson to themselves, as well as their Children, had ever been, a patient Resignation to temporary Evils; yet Cynthia (as no ill Consequence could attend such Omission) would not, by a tender Farewel, encounter the Children's streaming Eyes, lest it should dissolve all her Resolution, and soften her too much to have any Command of herself. Therefore, going into their Room, when the Innocents were asleep, she killed the little Wretches, who were insensible of the Loss they were to suffer of so indulgent an Aunt. The next Morning Valentine and Cynthia, accompanied by David and Camilla, walked to Mr. Orgueil's House, who lent them his Chariot, to convey them to the Inn, where the Stage Coach was to take them up.
Mrs. Orgueil declared, that she never, in her whole Life, beheld so contemptible a Scene, as the parting of these four Friends —she should have been more affected (she said) than any one of them, if she had been to lose her favourite Cat; and she was now convinced, that the Friendship of our Society (and of all Societies of Wits) was mere Pretence; and that there was not one amongst them, whose Heart did not greatly resemble Marble in Hardness and Incapacity of Feeling. And this Incapacity of Feeling did Mrs. Orgueil infer from observing, that neither Valentine or Cynthia, David, or his Camilla, accompanied the Word FAREWEL, with either Tears or Complaints: for, instead of putting on sorrowful or gloomy Countenances, they rather endeavoured, by an apparent Chearfulness, to lessen each other's Grief. But as Mrs. Orgueil understood not real Tenderness, it was no Wonder she should misinterpret such Behaviour; and that for Resolution she should read Insensibility.
Such as are acquainted with this Society, or have themselves experienced a Separation from those they love, can, without my Help, inform Mrs. Orgueil, that Valentine and Cynthia, the Moment the Chariot drove from the Door, could no longer contain their Grief. Soft Tears of Sorrow flowed from their Eyes, which could only be restrained and wiped away by their Regard to each other's Peace of Mind.
Mrs. Orgueil, although she delighted to relate what she called the insensible Behaviour of our Society, on their Separation, yet wilfully omitted publishing the Sorrow which David and his Camilla could not forbear expressing as soon as they knew their Friends were out of the Reach of being hurt by their Tears. But their Behaviour I also shall omit relating, as it bore so near a Resemblance to that of Valentine and Cynthia, that it might justly be called a Repetition. But yet, as Mrs. Orgueil's grand Point was to prove Cynthia's Insensibility, and Want of Friendship for Camilla, she would readily have granted that Camilla had some Degree of Friendship for Cynthia; and would herself, on that Account have published Camilla's Grief, when the Chariot drove from the Door, had she not been aware of the Conclusion that might naturally have been drawn from thence; namely, that as the four Friends behaved with equal Strength of Mind, when together, it was very probable, they might be equally overcome with Sorrow, when parted.
David and his Camilla, on arriving at their own Cottage, were surprised that not their own Maid, but Mrs. Dunster, should open the Door to them; she soon began to beg them not to be offended with the Maid and Miss Camilla, who (she said) had set out on foot, accompanied by her Husband and Daughter, in order to meet Valentine and Cynthia at the Inn, where they were to meet the Stage Coach. "And, indeed, Madam (adds the good Woman) I believe your sweet Daughter would have broke her Heart, had she not seen the last of her dear Uncle and Aunt." She had scarce finished her Tale before the Maid arrived, leading in the little Camilla, whose usual Joy on the Sight of her indulgent Parents was something abated, by the Fear of having offended, because she was ordered not to rise that Morning. Yet this Fear did not induce this amiable Girl to run from, but towards her Mother's Arms, and, falling on her Knees, she, by her streaming Eyes, implored Pardon for her Fault, and expressed that Affliction for their general Loss, which, from the Fullness of her tender Heart, she was unable to utter.
In which is seen the anxious Concern of David for his Brother's Child.
David and Camilla very sensibly felt the Loss of their much valued Friends. Their Minds, capable of the highest Enjoyment that innocent and spritely Conversation can give, must necessarily have some Reluctance at parting with Valentine and Cynthia; and the old Gentleman's truly paternal Heart was filled with anxious Cares for his Children's Welfare. It was, indeed, impossible for any the least Link of this Society to be loosed without being strongly perceived by all the rest.
As the modest Mind of Camilla ever fled for Protection and Refuge to David's Understanding, so under his kind Directions she walked securely free from Fear or Guilt; and as David's Understanding never suffered him to go astray from the Path that led to his real Happiness, he chearfully turned the brightest Side of every Accident to his View. He knew not Despondency; and, as his own Pleasure was heightened by communicating Delight to others, he contrived every Method in his Power, of raising in his own Mind, and in those of all his Family, the most agreeable Images. He often said, that Mankind in general, notwithstanding all their pretended Search after Happiness, seemed to him to be so totally ignorant of any rational Method to pursue it, that they acted as absurdly as a Refiner would do, who should carefully preserve all the Dross he extracts from Gold, and cast the Gold, as worthless Dross, into the Sea. Now, therefore, if by any the smallest Mark of Dejection in Camilla's Conntenance her indulgent Husband thought she felt this Separation from her Brother and Friend too sharply, he kindly led her Mind to consider, that she was most probably grieving at the very Means of their Friends Prosperity; till, by that pleasing Prospect, the Image of her own Loss slid from her Thoughts, and dissolved in her Husband's Kindness.
Yet David and his gentle Wife enjoyed but a small Respite before they were attacked by an unforeseen Stroke; which they could not avoid lamenting, although they endeavoured, as much as possible, to resign their Minds, and to submit to their Creator without repining.
One Morning old Mrs. Dunster, the Mother of Betty Dunster, before mentioned, came to see Camilla. The good Woman was the Picture which Hamlet describes: her Arms were folded a-cross; she hum'd and ha'd—hinted, that she could—and, if she would—and threw out many dark Hints about People and Folks; such as, "That People, when they took other Folks Children, should take Care of them, and not pretend to do them a Kindness, and make them Slaves to their own Children. To be sure, nothing was too good for their own. —If they were never so cross, they were sure not to lack. —It is a true Saying, that Money do make the Mare to go. —But other Folks Children be made of Flesh and Blood too, thoff they ben't so rich; and may catch Cold, and be ill, and die too, as well as Quality Folks. —For we be all God Almighty's Creatures, and he gives his Blessing to all alike. —I warrant, poor Children must not catch cold, thoff they do lie in a wet Room—to be sure, they must be well, whether they be well or no— they must have no Privilege of being ill as the rich have." All this the poor old Woman run on, intending very well, though her Expressions were something odd; for by the Privilege of being sick, she meant, of being taken care of, when sick; and the Reason of her broken Sentences, was, that she did not dare to speak out, because her Intelligence must come from her Daughter, who lived with Mrs. Orgueil.
Camilla, who was naturally endued with a great deal of Sagacity, and who always employed that Sagacity in watching over the Welfare of whatever belonged to Cynthia, easily perceived, by the old Woman's broken Sentences, that there was no Safety for little Cynthia, but her being relieved from the Power of Mrs. Orgueil ; and (according to her Custom) was hastening to open her Heart to her Husband, when she received the following Letter.
"Dear Madam,
"WE had a pleasant Journey to the Bath; and should have had
a much pleasanter, if it had not been for Cynthia's Daughter,
whose Humours, indeed, are intolerably troublesome. I wonder she
should have been bred up, to give herself such Airs, as she can have
no Prospect of any Fortune; but these Wits —Well, I'll put it into my
Litany, that my Child mayn't be a Wit. The little Hussey sets up for
such Delicacy! she pretends she has got a Cold, and fancies she lay in
a wet Room the first Night of our Arrival; but I know it is all Humour,
because she was contradicted. Nothing would serve her, truly, but to
lye with my Miss Cassy, though she knows the poor Child hates to
lye with any one, but her own Maid, whom she is very fond of; for it is
a gentle, loving, little thing; and I will not suffer her to be vexed,
and spoil her Eyes with Crying, to please any humoursome Brat in
England. I wish the delicate Puss Cynthia mayn't be glad to
have any Place to lie in, before she dies. I love to confer Favours;
but the Ingratitude of this World is enough to make one forswear the
Thoughts of laying an Obligation on any Person. —I know, Camilla,
you have too much Good Sense, to be offended at my free Manner of
speaking; for I intend to be a Friend to the Girl, and break her of her
perverse obstinate Humours. I am glad, for her sake, she fell into my
Hands, and will have the Example of my sweet-tempered Puppet
continually before her Eyes."
"I am, Madam, &c.
H. Orgueil.
"Mr. Orgueil desires his Compliments."
The Matter of Fact, which, at present, must appear confused, between the Account in Mrs. Orgueil's Letter, and the dark Hints thrown out by Mrs. Dunster, was thus.
When Mrs. Orgueil set out, with her own Family and little Cynthia, to the Bath, Mrs. Orgueil, for fear of crowding her Henrietta, would not suffer Cynthia to have any other Place in her Coach, than a Box placed at the Bottom for that Purpose, which, being corded, and Cynthia very weak, made her so uneasy that she modestly mentioned it: poor Infant, she had never lived in any other Family but David's, and ignorantly thought that Redress (epecially if easily come at) was the natural Consequence of every reasonable Complaint! but being told, that it was impossible she could be hurt; and being ordered, with an insolent Tone of Voice, not to be humoursome; she practised the Lesson of Patience, her Mother had taught her, from the time she was capable of profiting by any Instructions; and, whatever Pain she might suffer, complained no more.
When they arrived at the Lodgings taken for them at the Bath, the House was so full, that they could not covneniently be accommodated, but by little Cynthia's lying with Henrietta, who, on this Occasion, fell into such a Passion of Rage and Tears, for fear her Maid (whom she took all Opportunities of scratching and fighting with) should be separated from her, as frightened her Mother out of her Wits, and made her fall on little Cynthia in all the Terms of Reproach she could invent, or think of; although not so much as one Word fell from the innocent Child's Lips, to give her any the least Provocation.
At last the Mistress of the House said, there was one little spare Bed, up in the Garret, in which the Child might lie, after this one Night; but, as it had been washed that very Morning, she was afraid Miss would take cold. On this Mrs. Orgueil mustered her whole Stock of Insolence into her Countenance, repeated the Word Miss half a dozen Times; and then desired Miss to go to-bed, without any Whims or Airs. The Child, fatigued with her tiresome Journey, with a pale and wan Countenance, obeyed, wondering what was the matter; for, hitherto, she had been too happy to fear feeling the Effects of Anger, without, even in Thought, giving the least Offence.
When Mrs. Orgueil was, for the present, rid of this most dreadful Enemy, she began to fondle her Henrietta, for being so loving. Poor little thing! She loved her Maid. She was the most gentle loving Child! Indeed, all her Acquaintance said, she took after her Mamma, in every thing. Miss, indeed! She should be sick of the Word as long as she lived; she supposed Miss wou'd be just such another Wit as her Mother. Then she began to sigh and lament over little Henny ; no body pitied her, though she looked so pale, and was so tender in her Constitution; she had lost her Appetite too, lately, and would certainly, poor little dear Creature, go into a Consumption.
It may appear something odd, but at this very time, when Henrietta, in the Eyes of her Mother, was this weakly, sickly Child, every impartial Person plainly saw that she was a fresh-coloured healthy looking Girl, and had no Distemper, but a little Weakness in her Eyes (those Eyes Mrs. Orgueil was so afraid should be spoiled) arising from her continual crying, because she could not discover her own Inclinations.
At the Time Mrs. Orgueil wrote the foregoing Letter to Camilla, little Cynthia was afflicted with a fixed Pain in her Head, occasioned by a violent Cold given her in that wet Room she lay in the first Night of her Arrival at the Bath. It might reasonably have been hoped that the seeing the poor Child's Pain would have mollified Mrs. Orgueil; but so far from it, that it seemed rather to irritate her Passions, to find that a Consequence should attend her Commands, which she had declared could not attend them: nor could she suffer little Cynthia to have a Moment's Peace; for Henrietta now took a Fancy to play and make all manner of Noises in her Room; and if Good Nature prompted any of the Family, in Compassion, to try to prevent this which was Play to her, but Death to Cynthia, Henrietta had nothing to do, but to fall a blubbering in Mrs. Orgueil's Sight, who always immediately gave Orders that Cynthia should not dare to pretend to be disturbed by only a little innocent Play; and should know her Station enough to humour the poor Child. And yet so strange was Mrs. Orgueil in her Humour, that one Evening (although that very Day she had sent Cynthia one of the above practicable Orders) having a Pain her own Head, and Henrietta making a Noise with drawing about the Chair, as she used to do in little Cynthia's Room (and not making the proper Distinction, who she was at Liberty to disturb, would not desist) this fond Mother, in a violent Rage, beat her with an uncommon Severity.
This Behaviour of Mrs. Orgueil can no otherwise be accounted for, than that on the one hand she opposed Cynthia's Daughter to something she could call her own; and, on the other, Henrietta-Cassandra was forced to yield the Pre-eminence to a yet dearer Friend, namely, herself.
In short, Mrs. Orgueil, from their first Acquaintance, had suffered an inveterate Hatred to Cynthia to take Possession of her Mind, arising from a Suspicion, fatal to her Peace, that, notwithstanding her great Superiority in Equipage, Dress, and Riches, some few of her Acquaintance were foolish or mad enough eo prefer Cynthia's Company to hers. Now this same uneasy Suspicion (which, without any great Harshness, may be said to be nearly related to Envy) again haunted her on Account of little Cynthia and her own Henrietta-Cassandra; every kind Word that was said to the former, she imagined was a Robbery from the latter; and it would certainly be very unreasonable to demand any other Account of her Cruelty.
David and Camilla, on the Receipt of Mrs. Orgueil's Letter, immediately resolved to have the Child Home; but some Difficulty arose concerning the Method. They feared she was too weak to bear any manner of travelling which their Purse could reach; but David, who was always ready to expose himself to Difficulties for the sake of his Friends, and driven on by the Thought of Valentine and his Wife's Grief, in case they should lose their Child, immediately set out on foot for the Bath, that he might preserve the little Cash in his Possession, in order to convey little Cynthia home, as he should find it necessary.
David, when he saw little Cynthia, was shocked at the Alteration of her Countenance. Her pale and languid Looks sufficiently expressed her Condition. And now all Consequences vanished from his Mind, and no Thoughts remained, but that of saving his Friend's Child.
Mrs. Orgueil would not assist him with any Vehicle or Horses, for she was angry at losing the Object of her Power: but had she thought her in any Danger, she would have been the first to have sent her away; for, although she could wilfully and unprovokedly cause the Misery of her Fellow-creatures, yet the Thought of Death, especially in her House, would have filled her with the utmost Horror.
David immediately hired a Chariot, and, in his Arms, conveyed little Cynthia to his Camilla, who employed her most diligent Care to make the Burthen of her Distemper as light as possible; but all Care came too late, for the Child was too far gone. Her Fever daily encreased, and she did not outlive her Change of Situation, from the dreadful Tyranny of Mrs. Orgueil to the tender Care of Camilla, above a Week.
David's little Family much lamented their Cousin, for she was a pratling spritely Child, and innocent of one Thought of Offence towards any Mortal.
Camilla reflected with the most poignant Affliction, that she had suffered her dear Brother's Child to go to Mrs. Orgueil; and, in the first Attack of her Grief, her Mind was so weakened, that she accused herself of being her Destroyer. But David, altho' the Picture of what Valentine and Cynthia must feel, on hearing such News, was deeply imprinted in his Imagination, and made a strong Effort to subdue his Mind; yet did he preserve Steadiness enough to conquer his own Passions, to comfort his Camilla, and again to restore his little Family to Harmony and Peace.
In which is a Letter from a Friend.
The first thing David now did, was to write to Valentine and Cynthia. It was the most difficult Task he had ever undertaken; yet he so executed it, that he omitted no one Alleviation to that Sorrow, which the chief Purport of his Letter must occasion: the Sympathy of his own Mind with the Persons he was writing to, enabled him to raise such Images, and use such Expressions, as were best suited to give Comfort.
And now our Hero and his little Family were again resuming their former Serenity, when David received the following Letter from Mr. Ratcliff.
SIR,
"I am truly concerned to find by your Letter, that you have built
so strongly on my Intentions to serve you; that those, who will not
look on your Actions through that partial Medium of Friendship, which I
have ever done, will find too much Reason for taxing you with
Imprudence. How many Men have deprived themselves of the Means of
living comfortably, whilst they have grasped after the Power of living
luxuriously. The Fable of the Dog, who lost the Substance by catching
at the Shadow, though learnt in our Youth, seldom is remembered when it
will be of Service to us. After what I have said, it is almost
unnecessary to tell you, that all Hopes from the Quarter you so much
depended on, are at an End; and I have received a positive Refusal; not
that my Friend, the great Man, would deny me any thing for myself, for
he has often urged me to accept of Places of great Importance, which I
have hitherto declined; nor do I believe I shall ever bring myself to
undergo the Fatigue of a public Employment. —An earnest Desire to
serve and assist my Friends, sometimes makes me stagger in my
Resolution. And should I ere long have it in my own Power, I need not
repeat my Promises, to use that Power for the Service of my dear
Friend. But I desire to raise no Expectations: Good Fortune will not
be the less welcome for coming unlooked for. It is every one's Duty, to
conform to their Circumstances. How many melancholy Examples have we
before our Eyes, of whole Families falling to Decay through Negligence
and Extravagance; and then expecting to be supported in Idleness by the
Prudent and Industrious! I mean this as no Reflection on you, my dear
Friend; for I know your Intentions are, to breed up your Family in a
Way suitable to their Circumstances. Mrs. Ratcliff desires me
to tell you, she hopes Miss Camilla does not neglect her Needle:
she read, with friendly Concern, the Pleasure your Wife expressed on
Miss's Genius for Music and Painting; such things may be encouraged in
young Ladies born to a Fortune; but —no longer ago than last Week, a
Person was recommended to wait on Mrs. Ratcliff—she was a
younger Daughter to a Baronet, who, dying abroad, left a Family of
eleven Children, all unprovided for. The young Creature was just
nineteen; not handsome, but very genteel in her Person. She spoke
French extremely well, wrote an exceeding good hand, and was a
perfect Mistress of Accounts; had profited also so much by the
Instructions of her Mother's Housekeeper (while she kept one) that
there was no kind of Sweetmeats, Jellies, &c. that she was not
qualified to make: her own natural Genius for Music had made her,
without any Master, a great Proficient that Way; and her Sketches in
Drawing shewed, that, had she applied herself to that Science, she
might have equalled, if not excelled, the greatest Masters in that Art:
but when my Wife came to ask her about working at her Needle (the chief
Employment Mrs. Ratcliff delights in, or confines her Women to)
the Girl answered, that she knew, indeed, all sorts of Work, and
believed no body could find Fault with the Neatness of her Performance;
but, for want of Use of her Needle (as she confessed she never much
delighted in it) she had so slow a Hand at Work, that she could not
promise to make a fine Holland Shirt under a Week, or five Days at the
least: upon which Mrs. Ratcliff, having heard enough, soon
dismissed her; and advised her to stick more to her Needle, and leave
off her Pen and her Pencil; and she might then not have the Misfortune
to lose so good a Place as her's would have been to her. I know you
and your Wife have Sense enough to make the proper Use of this Story,
and, if you do, I doubt not but it may be in Mrs. Ratcliff's
Power hereafter to recommend Miss Camilla, if she herself
should be so engaged as not to be able to take her to be about her own
Person.
"I should have been glad (without my asking it) to have had a Specimen from my Godson, how he improves in his Writing, and what Progress he makes in his Latin. I would not have him neglect his Book on any Account; but, as I design him for the University, he need not apply himself to Numbers, for which, I find, his Master boasts of him, as if he was to be bred a Mechanic. I should be very sorry that the Expence I have already been at, should be all thrown away; which I shall think, if he does not make a great Figure in the literary World. As I have no Child of my own, I always consider him as my adopted Son; and, as he is likely to be in so different a Station of Life from the rest of his Family, I should be glad you would be as sparing as possible of sending for him from School, lest, seeing the low way of Life of his Brothers and Sisters, he might get into a mean way of thinking; which is what, in an Heir of mine, I could not endure.
"As I have given you a positive Answer about the Place you hoped for, I should take it well not to receive any farther Importunities from you, on that Head. I cannot answer for the Promises or Expectations given by another; but for my own—think of my Behaviour to your Son, and you cannot doubt my good Intentions towards him; nor, I hope, you will never have Cause towards yourself to doubt the real good Wishes and Affection of
"Your very sincere, and
faithful Friend,
Peter Ratcliff.
"P.S. I have sent, by the Carrier, a new Suit of Clothes, Hat, Stockings, Shoes, &c. for my God-son; and in the same Box my Wife has put up a green Damask Sack, dirted but on one Side, which, turned, will make a Nightgown for Miss Camilla, and a Coat for little Fanny."
However disagreeable the Purport of this Letter must be to David, yet it was so worded, that a Mind so much the Reverse of all Despondency as his was, could not admit absolute Despair. He considered, that this Letter was in answer to one, in which he had set forth his own Circumstances in much stronger Terms than he would have done, had he not been frightened by the Consideration, that if little Cynthia should linger long in her Illness, he was totally incapable of supporting her: he therefore endeavoured, as much as possible, to cherish the Image, that Mr. Ratcliff's chief View was to prevent his being too sanguine in his Hopes; and, consequently, feeling more sharply any Disappointment. David would not doubt the Friendship of a Man, who gave him the Pleasure of thinking, that, whatever Misfortune befel him, his eldest Son would, however, have an Education, and a good Prospect of being provided for. The Expression, he would not doubt, may, at first Sight appear strange; but, I believe, the Man, who has, with any moderate Degree of Carefulness, examined his own Mind, will not think the Discovery very new, that our Inclinations often stifle and render abortive Images beginning to arise in our Minds, and place others in their room.
The suspicious Man may often thank his Inclination for Discoveries, which he chuses to place to the Account of his sagacious Penetration; and to the same Inclination also he may frequently return Thanks, for many fancied Discoveries, whose Objects have no Existence, but in his own Brain.
But the most sanguine Hopes of David Simple only served to keep up a Chearfulness in his own Mind, and enable him to communicate that Chearfulness to others; for they never actuated him to be imprudent: he, therefore, on the Receipt of this Letter, changed his small House for a Habitation yet less, redoubled his Diligence, and if ever Poverty and Oeconomy subsisted together, it was in this Family.
By Poverty I mean distressed, not narrow Circumstances; and being, with a large dependent Family, in a Situation in Life, that you know not how to go out of, and yet are not able to support; and when you pay Cent. per Cent. for every Necessary of Life, by being obliged to buy every thing by retail: when, if you endeavour to keep up a fair Out-side, and paint not your Poverty in the most ghastly Shape, your nominal Friends will call you extravagant: whilst, on the other hand, if you set your Poverty in full View, such Friends will generously think you too low for their Regard; and comfort themselves, that you are too impotent to hurt them, even in the Eyes of the World. Then it is but watching over every minute Circumstance of your Life, exaggerating every human Failing, and it will be easily believed, you deserve your Fate, and they do right in abandoning you to it. Nay farther, it is very easy, in this Case, to deduce, by a malicious Representation of true Matters of Fact, every Action of your unhappy Life, from Motives you never once dreamed of. And this Advantage is generally taken when your Mind is in a State of the utmost Timidity, when the warm Affections of your Heart make you look with Dread and Horror on every Step you take, lest the Consequence of it should be any ways prejudicial to the chief Object of your Love. —This is Poverty! this is true Distress! But to eat the Bread earned by honest Labour, which Custom has made light, is Riches, and the Height of Luxury, in the Comparison. This, indeed, is the only Situation I can imagine dreadful enough to conquer a Mind endued with true Principles, or armed with any moderate Degree of Fortitude and Patience.
In such a Situation, at present, was David Simple; and, slight as was his Support by the Hopes of Mr. Ratcliff's Friendship, yet he dared not let go his Hold, being then sure of falling to the Ground, and pulling with him his beloved Camilla, and their common Care, their tender Infants.
By the Help of this Timidity both Mr. Ratcliff and Mr. Orgueil got an Ascendancy over the Mind of David Simple, that no Creature on Earth could ever have obtained, had SELF alone been his Consideration. Not even if they had found him in a sick Bed, loaded with Poverty and Pain, no human Arm extended for his Assistance, his only Support a Conscience void of Offence, and Hope in another Life. But he was entangled in the Snare of his Love for others, and his Inclination blinded his Judgment, till he in a manner forced himself to fancy he believed that Ratcliff and Orgueil would be his Friends, against that almost infallible Proof to the contrary, that the true Words of Kindness never fell from their Lips.
But such is human Frailty, that the Timidity of Mind which generally attends ardent Wishes, often destroys all our Purposes, and our Fate precipitates us into Over-sights, which bar us of that Success we might possibly obtain, were our Minds more indifferent, and consequently more at Liberty to exert themselves.
Poets feign, that Bodies have by Fear been turned into Stone; and Experience teaches us what surprising Effects Fear will have on the Mind.
Persons who sit round a warm Fire-side, their Minds unshaken by any Accident from Fortune, and free from Affliction, are very little qualified to judge of the Actions of a Man, whose Affairs are in such tempestuous Storms, that they require a Pilot, endued with more than human Skill, to guide their Course.
But here I would not be understood, as if David Simple, overcome by Timidity and Despair, raged or raved at his Misfortunes; or as if he did not exert the utmost human Patience, in submitting to them: only that his Mind was so far weakened and conquered by the Distress of his Family, that he could in some Measure be imposed on by the Appearance of friendly Colours, although the most certain Knowledge, Experience itself, had given him great Reason to believe those Colours hid beneath them what is most shocking to a distressed Mind, namely, Hardness of Heart.
A Visit, in which David receives much friendly Advice.
About this Time Mr. and Mrs. Orgueil returned from the Bath . And here I must exculpate Mr. Orgueil from having any Hand in the ill Usage of little Cynthia. He was generally in his Study, contemplating on his Rule of Rectitude, and exulting in the Beauties of Human Reason; that if any Man should be so mad as to blaspheme this his much reverenced Idol, he might be ready to do his Duty, and write an elaborate Rhapsody in its Justification.
Mrs. Orgueil, a little mollified, or a little frightened, by the Sound of Death, and finding (in the Phrase of old Mrs. Dunster ) that in that one Circumstance, at least, the Poor have an equal Privilege with the Rich, joined with her Husband in sending a very civil Message to David and his Wife, desiring to see them and their little Daughter Fanny, who was about the Age of Henrietta-Cassandra. Camilla sighed, and let fall the Words, "Can I visit that cruel Woman!" David was unwilling to desire any thing irksome to Camilla, but knowing Mr. Orgueil's Innocence concerning the Treatment of his dear Niece, and that if the Correspondence between Mrs. Orgueil and Camilla was dropped, the inveterate Spirit of the former would not suffer him to have the Shadow of a Friend in her Husband, he was inclined that his Wife should accept the Invitation. But, whilst he was deliberating, an Accident happened, that suddenly determined him, and consequently Camilla, to accept the Invitation of Mrs. Orgueil. For the old Gentleman, her Father, complained that he felt an unusual Weakness, and a very uncommon Pain in his Head; on which David, with a Countenance that denoted a Terror arising from Compassion, said, "My dear Camilla, we must not, at present, cease to grasp every the least glimmering Hope of Friendship."
Camilla answered by an immediate Compliance. She dressed herself and her Child, although only in Stuff, as neat as any Fortune could have made them, and attended her Husband to Mr. Orgueil's.
When they were arrived, David was carried into the Study, and Camilla, with her Child, was ushered into the Drawing room, where they were received by Mrs. Orgueil, Miss Henrietta, and Lady Mary B—, a young Lady of about sixteen, that Mrs. Orgueil had brought with her from the Bath.
Camilla, at her first Entrance (all little Cynthia's Sufferings rushing at once on her Imagination) was greatly shocked; but Mrs. Orgueil received her with such uncommon Civility and Good-humour, that her Mind, naturally more bent to be pleased than displeased, by Degrees grew tolerably chearful and serene.
In this History Mrs. Orgueil, in her Transactions with our favourite Characters, does not often appear in a very favourable Light; but let it not, therefore, be imagined she could never practise the amiable, for nothing could be more so than she was at this Time, till an accidental Mention of Valentine's Wife wrought in her an almost incredible Change; her Countenance, which was before placid, now grew fierce; her Voice was raised into a disagreeable Loudness; and the small Degree of Softness with which the Death of little Cynthia had supplied her Mind, vanished, and gave Place to the rougher Passion, inspired by the hated Idea of her Mother; and she let her Rage work itself up to such a Height, that she spoke with so much Harshness even of the dead Infant, that little Fanny, who was playing at the other End of the Room with Henrietta, bursted into Tears.
Mrs. Orgueil began to be outrageous at poor little Fanny's Tears. She could not bear, she said, that Children should be suffered to be so troublesome: she would not have Miss Henny so, for the World. Indeed, now the poor Child's Good-nature made her weep, to see her Companion cry, but Fanny's Roaring was nothing but Humour and Perverseness.
As the Sum and Substance of Lady Mary B—'s Education consisted of repeated Instructions to keep up the Dignity of her Station; and that the Consideration of her own Superiority should always be uppermost in her Thoughts; Camilla's first Appearance had inspired her with Contempt: for a Stuff Gown, and an unaffected Behaviour, did not agree with the Idea she had formed of a Gentlewoman. Yet having an implicit Faith in Mrs. Orgueil's Knowledge of the World, whilst she chose to be polite, Lady Mary also thought Civility was due to Camilla; but as soon as Mrs. Orgueil chose to display herself in a different Character, Lady Mary, although without uttering a Word, added her Insolence to Mrs. Orgueil's, by looking askance at Camilla and her Child, as if they were unworthy the Honour of her Presence.
It was, indeed, an odd Scene; Mrs. Orgueil's raised Voice, Lady Mary's Looks of Disdain, Henrietta roaring because her Companion had for that Moment ceased playing with her, poor Fanny weeping, and Camilla —could not immediately take her leave, because David had desired her to stay with Mrs. Orgueil till he sent to her, having some Business with Mr. Orgueil, which he might not presently have an Opportunity of opening. But joyful was Camilla's Heart when a Message from her dear Husband released her from this her disagreeable Confinement.
David, whilst with Orgueil in his Study, spent his Time full as pleasantly as did Camilla with the entertaining Company in the Drawing room. He, in a few Words, made known to Orgueil the utmost Distress of his Circumstances, without the Use of either Rhetoric or Complaint; for his own Heart was so rent by any mournful Pictures of a Friend's Misfortune, that he could not prevail on himself to draw them. In Theory no Man breathing knew better than David that the painting your Misery in the strongest Colours, is necessary to raise what is called Compassion in a proud Mind; as a proud Mind is piqued till you are quite subdued, and the more Weakness and Pusillanimity you shew, the more will you move such Compassion: for a Man of this Turn must be reminded, that he is as much your Superior in Constancy of Mind, as in Fortune, before he can bring himself to think you are a fit Object of his Pity. I say, that although David, in Theory, knew all this, yet as he at the same time felt his own Heart so fraught with Kindness, that the very Glimpse of a Friend's Distress, was enough to make him exert every Faculty and every Power for his Relief, he could not, when he wanted the Assistance of a Friend, bring himself to treat him like one that would delight in the Image of his Miseries: in short, David's Behaviour had such an Effect on Orgueil, that he shewed great Liberality towards him, in a Commodity, which it was impossible for his Family to feed on, namely, in Advice to practise what either his Disposition, or his Situation, rendered impracticable; —to buy every thing at the best Hand, when his Circumstances forced him to pay a Hundred per Cent . for every Necessary that was expended in his House:—to manage his Family as if they all enjoyed a continued State of good Health, whether they did so or no, and whilst the Infirmities of his Father's Age made many Things necessary, that might otherwise have been spared. Nay, he advised him to lead his Life back again,—to unlend every Sum of Money he had lost by assisting the Unfortunate,—to ungive every Benefaction his happier Days had enabled him to bestow,—to unbuy every Comfort and Convenience with which he had pleased and delighted his own Family;—and to unhire that Chariot, in which he had brought little Cynthia Home from the Bath: or if I may not be permitted to give to this Part of his Conversation the Name of Advice, I cannot, with any Propriety, think of a softer Appellation for it than Reproach.
David and Camilla walked Home, each of them endeavouring to be as chearful as possible, although Mrs. Orgueil's Behaviour had revived in Camilla's Mind the strongest Sensibility of poor little Cynthia's Sufferings; and David returned to his little Habitation loaded with the additional Misery of the Arrows of Unkindness, which Mr. Orgueil had stuck in his Heart. Not but Mr. Orgueil earnestly assured him, the whole time, of the Height of his Friendship, and that he only advised him for his own Good and future Prosperity. But David now, from Despair itself, gaining some small Degree of Resolution, settled it firmly in his Mind, that he would no longer give Faith to such cruel Promises of Friendship.
In which Mrs. Orgueil feels some Compassion, and Orgueil does a generous Action.
Orgueil, as soon as David had taken his Leave, fell into a long and serious Debate with himself, whether or no his Rule of Rectitude would give him leave to send his Friend any Relief. He was sure it was reasonable to avoid all rash Proceedings, and that his Friend ought to be driven to suffer great Distress, in order to cure him of his Imprudence; for it was one of Mr. Orgueil's most settled Maxims, that Man, by the Use of his own Reason alone, has a Power to prevent or heal any Misfortune. He so implicitly worshiped Human Reason, that it appeared to him no less than Idolatry to dispute its Omnipotence; he, therefore, must necessarily condemn every Man, who is unfortunate whilst this powerful God is Part of him. To have a Deity at his Command, and yet be miserable, how absurd! for, according to Mr. Orgueil's Way of thinking, this all-powerful God, Human Reason, is yet subject to the Will of Man, and he may use it or not, worship it, abuse it, or do whatever he please with it. But in the Veneration of this his darling Idol, all Thoughts of relieving David Simple fell to the Ground. David was voluntarily miserable, for he could not be unavoidably so whilst he had a God at his Command.
Sometimes, indeed, the Consideration of the old Gentleman's Age and Infirmities a little staggered Orgueil; but then the Thought of the Chariot immediately succeeded, and the immense Imprudence of riding about in a Chariot, in such Circumstances, glared full in his View. He concealed, as much as possible, from himself, David's true Motive to it, and cherished no other Idea but that of the very Action itself; or if ever any Notion intruded, that it was done in order to save little Cynthia, it was always accompanied with the Reflection, that she was not his own Child; and it was a Shame for a Man, in David's Circumstances, to spend his Substance on Strangers.
St. Paul says, that a Man who does not provide for his own Family, is worse than an Infidel; and Orgueil allowed St. Paul to be a very fine Writer; for he, indeed, had human Learning before he became a Teacher of the Christian Doctrines: and beside, when any Text suited Mr. Orgueil's Purpose or Inclinations, no one was more ready to quote the sacred Writings, provided he might be admitted to judge them by his own Rule of Rectitude. That Paul at such a Time became a Teacher of the Christian Doctrine, was a favourite Phrase with Mr. Orgueil; nor could he endure the Expression of St. Paul's being called to the Apostleship. And, as he believed not the Miracle of his Conversion (or, indeed, any Miracle at all) he made such Conversion the common Subject of his Ridicule.
But whilst Mr. Orgueil was in this Debate with himself, his Wife entered the Room: the Conversation naturally turned on the Subject Mr. Orgueil was before meditating on. The Chariot had always been a most boiling Grief in the Heart of Mrs. Orgueil, more especially as it was for the Service of the hated Cynthia's Child. Mr. Orgueil blamed David for his Imprudence, and acting contrary to the Rule of Rectitude. Mrs. Orgueil condemned him for his Pride and Insolence; for she insisted on it, that he only made a Pretence of little Cynthia's Illness, in order to keep Equipages, and put himself on a Footing with Persons of Fortune. "What could you have done more, Mr. Orgueil (said she) if my poor little Babe had been ill?" And then she sighed as if her Heart would break, at the very Idea, that it was possible for Miss Cassy to be seized with any Distemper; for she thought it was very hard, that any thing so dignified as to belong to her, should be subject to human Infirmities.
But when Mrs. Orgueil entered on the Topic, how much it is a Man's Duty to provide for his own Family, she was never tired of the Repetition of the Word own; and her Eloquence burst forth in an almost inexhaustible Torrent of Words. She too, perfectly remembered St. Paul on this Head; as I believe she did every Word on the Side of this Question, from the Time she became a Wife; and although she never had any other Child but Henrietta, yet she was always fancying herself with-child, to keep up the Idea in Orgueil's Mind, of a growing Family.
It is almost incredible into what a Perplexity of Mind Mrs. Orgueil was continually throwing herself, to prevent her Husband's ruining himself by Generosity to David and his Family. She had, indeed, the Curse of the Psalmist, of being afraid where no Fear was; but she would not have been so extremely anxious to have prevented Mr. Orgueil from relieving David and Camilla in some very small Degree, had she not known it impossible for any Part of that Family to have any Enjoyment, without the hated Cynthia's having an equal Share at least in the Pleasure.
But Mr. Orgueil's Rule of Rectitude would by no Means suffer him to take his Wife's Advice; therefore Mrs. Orgueil never gave him any Advice at all, but by an artful Method of making him fancy he acted by the Dictates of his own idolized Reason, she prevailed on him to gratify her Inclinations: and in this Conversation concerning a Man's providing for his own Family, Hints were strowed about very thick, that Mr. Orgueil was very much in the right; as if all this Eloquence first took its Rise from his own much valued, reverenced Wisdom.
But now the old Gentleman, Camilla's Father, weakened with Age, and bowing downward to his native Earth with Infirmities, took to his Bed, in which he languished three Weeks, every Day lessening a small Degree of his yet remaining Strength. He did not appear to labour under any violent Pains, which the better enabled his Children to struggle through his Illness; but the necessary additional Expence of his Sickness they knew not how to support. Saleable Things, all but Camilla's Wedding Ring, had long been disposed of; for David and his Camilla could look down on the Distress of parting with any Thing administering only to Shew or Luxury, as unworthy their least Regard. This Ring, indeed, had a Circumstance annexed to it, which made the keeping it some Indulgence to Camilla, but no Indulgence to herself had any the least Chance of withstanding her Father's Wants, and therefore, on this Occasion, she parted with it without Hesitation.
Suspicion of any Alteration in David's Love, or that she preserved it by any Charm, was far from her Thoughts: she knew his Love was built on too strong a Foundation to be shaken by any accidental Occurrences; and when she attended her Father with this her only remaining Treasure, her filial Piety rendered her more lovely in her dear Husband's Eyes, than did even her blooming Youth and beautiful Person, adorned with all the Elegance of Neatness, when first she received that much-valued Gift from his Hands.
Camilla knelt at her Father's Bed-side, David on the opposite Side, a Witness to her tender Behaviour. She concealed her Tears, and stifled, as much as possible, every Emotion of Grief, till she could make some Pretence for retiring by herself, and, by giving a little Vent to her Sorrow, enable herself to appear again more chearful; for on such Occasions alone did she ever chuse to be absent from her Husband.
The old Gentleman, as if he was only falling into a refreshing Slumber, felt so little Pain at his Departure from this Life, that his Children were saved that most shocking of all Circumstances, beholding him in Agonies; the Course of his Years made it no unexpected Event, and the Consideration that they were disabled by their Circumstances tolerably to support his drooping Remains of Life, had he held it longer, enforced by David's Understanding, in a small Time revived the usual Chearfulness in Camilla's Countenance. And now every Distress that could possibly befal her, must bring some Alleviation with it, by raising in her Mind a secret Joy, that her Father was escaped from the Possibility of partaking in her Misfortune.
But on the old Gentleman's Death, both Mr. and Mrs. Orgueil joined in the Opinion, that they might allow themselves in the Expence of his Burial. Many were Mrs. Orgueil's Reasons for this Opinion; first, Cynthia could not possibly have any Share in what was spent on the Dead; secondly, the Word Death itself struck her with a kind of Horror, which a little damped and broke the Chain of those grand Points she was always forming to bring about; such as that her poor little Thing should not, during her whole Life, have one Jewel less for Mr. Orgueil's Generosity; or that Cynthia should be made to feel some poignant Grief, in Revenge for her daring to have an Understanding superior to her own.
And lastly, Mrs. Orgueil had one Grain of what is commonly called Compassion for the Dead: for although the Impossibility of her ever falling into Poverty was strongly fixed in her Mind, as if she had never seen or heard of any of the Vicissitudes or Chances of this mortal Life, yet sometimes she could not help being struck with the Image, that both herself and her Miss Cassy must, one time or other, share the common Fate, and fall a Sacrifice to Death.
Mr. Orgueil's Rule of Rectitude not only gave him Leave, but absolutely commanded him to bury the Dead with Decency, in order to pay all due Respect even to the Clay that had been once animated by his Idol, Human Reason. But this Agreement of Orgueil and his Wife, to bury Camilla's Father with Decency, by the Pleasure it gave her, renewed David's former Blindness, again enslaved his Mind to Orgueil, and fixed his Chain as strong as ever.
To inform my Reader, that a proud Man was blinded by Flattery, or an ambitious Man by the most distant Prospect of Favour from the Great, would be rehearsing a Matter of Fact very little worth relating: but that the same Blindness may be caused from Fears and Apprehensions of our Friends Miseries, and ardent Wishes for their Happiness, is, perhaps, not so generally known; and the Reason I leave to be discovered by the judicious Reader.
In which is some very good News.
And now a Gleam of Comfort opened itself to the View of David Simple; for he received a Letter from Valentine, that his present Prospect of Success was much beyond his warmest Expectations; and he doubted not but that in a short Time they should all be as happy as they could be made by a plentiful Fortune.
This Letter, though wrote very soon after Valentine received the News of the Death of his only and greatly beloved Child, dwelt not on that melancholy Subject, but was rather calculated to inspire the Minds of those to whom it was sent, with a chearful Hope of future Success. In it there were no Professions of Friendship, no Promises of lending or giving, but it was all writ in the plural Number, "if WE succeed," and "WE shall be happy,"— considering them all as one united Family. This, perhaps, would have been very marvellous in the Eyes of many Persons; but when David and Camilla looked within it, it did not in the least appear to them in the Light of a Miracle.
As extreme Poverty had been one of the principal Comforts to Camilla on the Death of her Father, since by that alone she could be secured from the agonizing Grief or seeing him want; so, on the least glimmering Ray of good Fortune, the Thought that her Father could not share it, was an additional Sting to his Death: but her Husband, as usual, kindly exerted his Understanding to comfort her, by shewing her how absurd it was to imagine that any Success or Prosperity in this World could make her Father amends for being again loaded with Age and Infirmities; and especially as she had Hopes in another Life, and believed that he was now in a State of Happiness. And as by this Conversation it plainly appeared to Camilla, it was not her Father's Loss, but that of her own Pleasure, she was deploring, she had such a Sense of her indulgent Husband's Kindness, that her Mind yielded to the Strength of his Reasoning, and she was comforted.
It is, perhaps; not very common to meet with Persons really desirous to perform that friendly Office of bestowing Comfort; but to find Persons with Minds gentle enough to receive it, is, perhaps, yet more uncommon. At first Sight there does not appear any thing extraordinary in what Milton affirms of Eve,
So chear'd he his fair Spouse, and she was CHEAR'D.And yet, with a very little Consideration, built on Experience, I believe no very judicious Person could imagine Milton would have said so of our common Mother after the Fall; undoubtedly he would rather have said,
So chear'd he his fair Spouse, and she was CLUMM.Had Camilla's Grief been vented in Clamour, or stamped with any visible Mark of Affectation, David would not have attempted the impossible Task of curing it; but as he was satisfied of her Innocence and Simplicity, and as he never despised any little Weakness which had unguardedly crept into her Mind, he consequently always generously removed any such Weakness.
But now as Mr. Orgueil, by his late Act of Kindness, had again fixed David's Chains, and as David's chief Pleasure was to communicate good News, he shewed, to this his new-revived Friend, Valentine's Letter; for as he considered Orgueil as the Means of his Brother's good Fortune, he thought he had a Right to the first Information of it; and he also asked his Opinion, whether it was not possible for him to raise some Money on this Prospect of Success. Orgueil looked first exceeding pleased, as thinking he was the Author of this Success—and then exceeding thoughtful. Immediately he began to consult his Rule of Rectitude, and at last, as if he had just received an Answer from his Oracle, delivered to David this formal Opinion, That if by this Prospect he could raise any little Money, great Interest would certainly be extorted for it; and therefore the Acceptance of it would be very injudicious; and added his Advice, that he should by no Means think of so indiscreet a Proceeding. David was going to reply, by putting him in Mind of a Circumstance, which he seemed to have forgot, namely, that his Family wanted Money, not for any thing that would do as well half a Year afterwards, but for the very Staff of Life, even Bread itself, daily Bread. But before he could utter his Words, Mr. Orgueil recollecting some Business of great Consequence, which demanded his immediate Attendance, begged David's Excuse, and retired to his Study.
Perhaps this Business of Consequence might be a kind Pretence, in order to leave his Advice the deeper impressed on David's Mind; for Mr. Orgueil mistook his own Meaning, when he called it Advice, for he in Reality designed it as a Command; and, whether or no his Commands were practicable, yet he expected the strictest Obedience to them.
This Manner of Orgueil's was no small Addition to David's other Burthens; for he never proposed any one Scheme for his own Advantage, without meeting with Orgueil's Disapprobation: and yet, if, finding himself thus in Chains, he pretended to exert any Freedom, or take any one Step without consulting Mr. Orgueil's inward Oracle, that too was Matter of the highest Offence.
Perhaps the essential Difference between Mr. Orgueil and David did not so much arise from their differing in Judgments, as from the Disagreement of their Inclinations; for whenever David thought of worldly Affairs, or talked to Mr. Orgueil of them, his Childrens and his Camilla's Wants, were present to his Mind; his Wishes were all centered in their Relief, and his Thoughts fixed on the most probable Method for that Purpose: whilst, on the contrary, Mr. Orgueil's Wishes were all centered in keeping up to his Rule of Rectitude, in giving such Advice as might preserve and increase his Admiration of his own Wisdom, and still retain the Man he called his Friend in Slavery and Dependance. No Wonder, then, that two Men, setting out with such opposite Views, should never join in their Opinions.
Such Conversations always left David in the highest Perplexity; for he found all Orgueil's Discourse led to something of which he had no Image, and tended not in the least to promote the strongest Wishes of his Heart: yet he could not forget that it was through Orgueil's Means his dear Valentine had now that Prospect of Success, which gave him the pleasing Hopes of once more renewing their former happy Union. Orgueil also continually professed himself so much his Friend, that David found it very difficult, whilst that Word (the utmost Force of which he so well knew) was sounding in his Ears, to believe, that whilst Orgueil's Power to relieve him was unbounded, nothing could well be further from his Inclinations.
Orgueil immediately informed his Wife of Valentine's Letter. She smiled, or rather sneered; for, indeed, the Image of Cynthia's Success did not much incline her to a Smile of Pleasure. Mr. Orgueil also told her the Advice he had given David; and in relating the Conversation that had passed between them, he often let drop the Words IF Valentine should have this Success, and IF he should generously bestow some Part of his Fortune on David; which Mrs. Orgueil greedily catched at, and said, "Indeed, Mr. Orgueil, you are in the right to make that IF. I don't know how David and Camilla may be imposed on; but I know the Art of Cynthia too well to imagine she will suffer her Husband to ruin himself on their Account. Hitherto Cynthia was well pleased to live with them as one common Family, because it was for her own Interest, I don't believe the World contains so cunning, so artful a Woman. I always had some Compassion for poor Camilla, because I saw she was so egregiously imposed on. Now I doubt not but her own Prosperity and her Friends Distress will unfold all the Treachery of Cynthia's Heart, though perhaps she will still find some Evasions to impose on poor Camilla; for Camilla is very harmless, but, poor Thing, she is very silly. I thank my Stars, Cynthia could never impose on me with all her Art; and I doubt not but that is the true Reason of the inveterate Hatred she has taken to me, and all my Family. Heaven forbid! any thing belonging to me should ever be in her Power! but I despise her—I think Contempt is the only Treatment she deserves."
Mrs. Orgueil ran on a great deal more to the same Purpose, often endeavouring with all her Might to force a Laugh against Nature, and at last concluded with a Supposition, that David was too wise in his own Conceit, to follow the Advice of his Friends.
Mrs. Orgueil (as has been observed in the Introduction) was the first Proposer of Mr. Orgueil's providing, as it was thought, for Valentine and Cynthia; nay, she even pursued it with a very remarkable Eagerness. She had, no doubt, her Reasons for it; but it would be an over-strained Complaisance to impute it to Kindness: it is rather more probable, that to separate Cynthia and Camilla was one of her Motives: for she knew, that though they might have Resolution enough to bear such a Separation for each other's Interest, yet nothing but absolute Necessity could prevail on them to consent to undergo so very irksome a Task. Then she imagined that; Cynthia being absent, she could impose whatever she pleased on Camilla. It is with Reluctance I must relate her strongest Motive, but certain it it is that her chief Eagerness f