The miscellaneous works of Oliver Goldsmith, M.B. To which is prefixed some account of his life and writings. A new edition, etc

Front matter

GOLDSMITH'S MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. SWEET AUBURN: LOVLIEST VILLAGE OF THE PLAIN. The dancing pair, who simply sought reno/wx By holding out.to tire each, other down". Dtsezrttd VUlafft-I'ag-103 EDINBURGH. THOMAS NELSON. THE MISCELLANEOUS WORKS or OLIVER GOLDSMITH, M.B. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS. A NEW EDITION, COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUM&. EDINBURGH: PUBLISHED BY THOMAS NELSON. MDCCCXLIII. CONTENTS. THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. Cha.. P«o« sist the power of long and pleasing temptation 28 X VIII. The pursuit of a father to reclaim Chit. Pagi I. The description of the family of Wakefield, in which a kindred likeness a lost child to virtue . . .31 XIX. The description of a person discon. prevails, as well of minds as of persons ..... 3 tented with the presentgovernment, and apprehensive of the loss of our liberties . . . . .32 XX.

The history of a philosophic vaga- II. Family misfortunes. The loss of fortune only serves to increase the pride of the worthy . . . _ III. A migration. The fortunate circumstances of our lives are generally found at last to be of our own procuring 5 IV. A proof that even the humblest forbond, pursuing novelty, but losing content 3_ XXI. The short continuance of friendship among the vicious, which is coeval only with mutual satisfaction . 40 tune may grant happiness, which depends not on circumstances but constitution .... 8 XXII. Offences are easily pardoned where there is love at bottom . 4-1 XXIII. None but the guilty can be long V. A new and great acquaintance introduced. What we place most hopes upon generally proves most fatal 9 and completely miserable . . 4o XXIV. Fresh calamities . . .46 XXV.

No situation, however wretched VI. The happiness of a country fireside 10 it seems, but has some sort of comfort attending it . .48 XXVI. A reformation in the gaol. To VII. A town wit described. The dullest fellows may learn to be comical for a night or two . . . . 11, VIII. An amour, which promises little good fortune, yet may be productive of much . . . .13 IX. Two ladies of great distinction introduced. Superior finery ever seems to confer superior breeding . . 15 make laws complete they should reward as well as punish . . 49 XXVII. The same subject continued . 51 XXVIII. Happiness and misery rather the result of prudence than of virtue in this life ; temporal evils or felicities being regarded by Heaven as things merely in themselves trifling and unworthy its care in the distribution ... .52 A. The family endeavour to cope with their betters.

Chapter I. The Description Of The Family Of Wake- Field, In Which

A KINDRED LIKENESS PRE- VAILS, AS WELL OF MINDS AS OF PERSONS. I was ever of opinion, that the honest man who married and brought up a large family, did more service than he who continued single and only talked of population. From this motive, I had scarcely taken orders a year, be fore I began to think seriously of matrimony, and chose my wife, as she did her wedding gown, not for a fine glossy surface, but for such qualities as would wear well. To do her justice, she was a good-natured notable woman ; and as for breeding, there were few country ladies who could show more. She could read any English book without much spelling; but for pickling, preserving, and cookery, none could excel her. She prided herself also upon being an excellent contriver in housekeeping ; though I could never find that we grew richer with all her contrivances.

However, we loved each other tenderly, and our fondness increased as we grew old. There was in fact, nothing that could make us angry with the world or each other. We had an elegant bouse situated in a fine country, and a good neighbourhood. The year was spent in moral or rural amusements, in visiting our rich neighbours, and relieving such as were poor. We had no revolutions to fear, nor fatigues to undergo ; all our adventures were by the fire-side, and all our migrations from the blue bed to the brown. As we lived near the road, we often had the traveller or stranger visit us to taste our gooseberry-wine, for which we had great reputation ; and I profess with the veracity of an historian, that I never knew one of tbem find fault with it. Our cousins too, even to the fortieth re move, all remembered their affinity, without any help from the herald's office, and came very frequently to see us.

Sonic of them did us no great honour by these claims of kindred ; as we had the blind, the maimed, and the halt amongst the number. However, my wile always insisted tbat as they were the same Thus we lived several years in a state of much happiness, not but that we sometimes had those little rubs which Providence sends to enhance the value of its favours. My or chard was often robbed by schoolboys, and my wife's custards plundered by the cats or the children. The 'Squire would sometimes fall asleep in the most pathetic parts of my sermon, or bis lady return my wife's civilities at church with a mutilated courtesy. But we soon got over the uneasiness caused by such accidents, and usually in three or four days began to wonder how they vexed us. My children, the offspring of temperance, as they were educated without softness, so they were at once well formed and healthy ; my sons hardy and active, my daughters beautiful and blooming.

When I stood in the midst of the little circle, which promised to be the supports of my declining age, I could not avoid repeating the famous story of Count Abensberg, who, in Henry II.'s progress i through Germany, while other courtiers came with their treasures, brought his thirty-two ! children, and presented them to his sovereign I as the most valuable offering he had to bestow. , In this manner, though I had but six, I con- I sidered them us a very valuable present made C to my country, ami consequently looked upon it as my debtor. Our eldest son was named George, after his uncle, who left us ten thousand pounds. Our second child, a girl, I in tended to call after her aunt Grissel; but my wife, who during her pregnancy had been reading romances, insisted upon her being called Olivia. In less than another year we had another daughter, and now I was determined that Grissel should be her name ; but a rich relation taking a fancy to stand godmother, the girl was, by her directions, called Sophia ; so that we bad two romantic names in the family ; but I solemnly protest I had no hand in it.

Moses was our next, and after an interval of twelve years, we had two sons more- It would be fruitless to deny my exultation when I saw my little ones about me ; but the vanity and tbe satisfaction of my wife were even greater than mine. When our visitors would say, " Well, upon my word, Mrs Prim rose, you have the finest children in tbe whole country :" — " Ay, neighbour," she would answer, " they are as heaven made them, handsome enough, if they be good enough ; for handsome is that handsome does." And then she would bid the girls hold up their heads ; who, to conceal nothing, were certainly very handsome. Mere outside is so very trifling a circumstance with rae, that I should scarcely have remembered to mention it, had it not been a general topic of conversation in the country. Olivia, now about eighteen, had that luxuriaucy of beauty, with which painters generally draw Hebe ; open, sprightly, and commanding.

Sophia's features were not so striking at first, but often did more certain execution ; for they were soft, modest, and alluring. The one vanquished by a single blow, the other by efforts successively repeated. The temper of a woman is generally formed from the turn of her features, at least it was so with my daughters. Olivia wished for many lovers, Sophia to secure one. Olivia was often affected from too great a desire to please. Sophia even represt excellence, from her fears to offend. The one entertained me with her vivacity when I was gay, the other with her sense when I was serious. But these qualities were never earned to excess in either, and I have often seen them exchange charac ters for a whole day together. A suit of mourning has transformed my coquette into a prude, and a new set of ribbons has given lier younger sister more than natural vivacity.

My eldest son George was bred at Oxford, as 1 intended him for one of the learned professions. My second boy Moses, whom I designed for business, received a sort of miscellaneous edu cation at home. But it is needless to attempt describing the particular characters of young people that had seen but very little of the world. In short, a family likeness prevailed through all, and properly speaking, they had but one character, that of being all equally generous, credulous, simple, and inoffensive.

Chapter II Family Misfortunes

— THE -0 = <: °F FOR- TUNE ONLY SERVES l"l JSCttEASE THE I Bin' OF THE WORTHY. The temporal concerns of our family were chiefly committed to my wife's management; as to the spiritual, I took them entirely under my own directions. The profits of my living, which amounted to but thirty-rive pounds a-year, I made over to the orphans and widows of the clergy of our diocese -, for having sufficient for tune of my own, I was careless of temporali ties, and felt a secret pleasure in doing my duty without reward. I also set a resolution of keeping no curate, and of being acquainted with every man in the parish, exhorting the married men to temperance, and the bachelors to matrimony ■. so that in a few years it was a common saying, that there were three strange wants at Wakefield, a parson wanting pride, young men wanting wives, and ale-houses wan ting customers.

Matrimony was always one of my favourite topics, and I wrote several sermons to prove its happiness : but there was a peculiar tenet which I made a point of supporting; for I maintained with Whiston, that it was unlaw ful for a priest of the church of England, after the death of his first wife, to take a second, or, to express it iu one word, I valued myself upon being a strict monogamist. I was early initiated into this important dispute, on which so many laborious volumes have been written. I published some tiacts upon the subject myself, which, as they never sold, I have the consolation of thinking am read only by the happy few. Some of my friends called this my weak side ; but alas I tbey had not like me made it the subject of long contemplation. The more I reflected upon it, the more important it appeared.

I even went a step beyond Whiston in displaying my principles : as he had engraven upon his wife's tomb that she was the only wife ol William Whiston ; so I wrote a similar epi taph for my wife, though still living, in wlncl) I extolled her prudence, economy, aud obedi. ence till death ; and having got it copied lair, with an elegant frame, it was placed over the chimney-piece, where it answered several very useful purposes. It admonished my wife ul her duty to me, and my fidelity to her; ll in spired her with a passion for fame, and con stantly put her in mind ot her end. It was thus, perhaps, from hearing marriage so often recommended, that my eld.st sob, just upon leaving college, fixed 'his atfectio»S upon the daughter ol a neighbouring clergy man, who was a dignitary iu the church, and in circumstances to give her a large lortime.

But fortune was her smallest accomplis-ineiit Miss Arabella IVilmox was allowed by all (except my two daughters) to be completely pretty. Her youth, health, and innocence, were still heightened by a complexion so transparent, and such a happy sensibility of look, as even age could not gaze on with in difference. As Mr Wilmot knew that I could make a very handsome settlement on my son, he was not averse to the match ; so both families lived together in all that harmony which generally precedes an expected alliance. Be ing convinced by experience that the days of courtship are the most happy of our lives, I was willing enough to lengthen the period ; and the various amusements which the young couple every day shared in each other's com pany, seemed to increase their passion. We were generally awaked in the morning by music, and on fine days rode a-hunting.

The hours between breakfast and dinner the ladies devoted to dress and study : they usually read a page, and then gazed at themselves in the glass, which even philosophers might own often presented the page of greatest beauty. At dinner my wife took the lead ; for as she always insisted upon carving every thing her self, it being her mother's way, she gave us upon these occasions the history of every dish. When we had dined, to prevent the ladies leaving us, I generally ordered the table to be removed ; and sometimes, with the music master's assistance, the girls would give us a very agreeable concert. Walking out, drinking tea, country dances, and forfeits, shortened the rest of the day, without the assistance of cards, as I hated all manner of gaming, except back-gammon, at which my old friend and I sometimes took a two-penny hit.

Nor can I here pass over an ominous circumstance that happened the last time we played together , I only wanted to fling a quatre, and yet I threw deuce ace five times running. Some months were elapsed in this manner, till at last it was thought convenient to fix a day for the nuptials of the young couple, who seemed earnestly to desire it. During the preparations for the wedding, I need not de scribe the busy importance of my wife, nor the sly looks of my daughters : in fact, my atten tion was fixed on another object, the complet ing a tract which I intended shortly to publish in defence of my favourite principle. As I looked upon this as a master -piece, both for argument and style, I could not in the pride of my heart avoid showing it to my old friend Mr Wilmot, as I made no doubt of receiving his approbation ; but not till too late I discovered that he was most violen.ly attached to the contrary opinion, and with good reason ; for he was at that time actually courting a fourth wife.

This, as may be expected, produced a dispute attended with some acrimony, which threatened to interrupt our intended alliance : but on the day before that appointed for the i ceremony, we agreed to discuss the subject at large. It was managed with proper spirit on both [ sides : he asserted that I was heterodox, 1 re torted the charge ; he replied, and I rejoined. In the meantime, while the controversy was hottest, I was called out by one of my rela tions, who, with a face of concern, advised me to give up the dispute, at least till my son's wedding was over. " How," cried I, " relinquish the cause of truth, and let him be a husband already driven to the very verge of absurdity. You might as well advise me to give up my fortune, as my argument." " Your fortune," returned my friend, " I am now sorry to inform you, is almost nothing.

The merchant in town, in whose hands your money was lodged, has gone off, to avoid a statute of bankruptcy, and is thought not to have left a shilling in the pound. I was un willing to shock you or the family with the account till after the wedding i but now it may serve to moderate your warmth in the argument ; for, I suppose, your own prudence, will enforce the necessity of dissembling, at least, till your son has the young lady's for tune secure." — " Well," returned I, " if what you tell me be true, and if I am to be a beggar, it shall never make me a rascal, or in duce me to disavow my principles. I'll go this moment and inform the company of my circumstances : and as for the argument, I even here retract my former concessions in the old gentleman's favour, nor will I allow him now to be a husband in any sense of the ex pression."

It would be endless to describe the different sensations of both families when I divulg ed the news of our misfortune : but what others felt was slight to what the lovers appeared to endure. Mr Wilmot, who seemed before sufficiently inclined to break off the match, was by this blow soon determined ; one virtue he had in perfection, which was prudence, too often the only one that is left us at seventy-two.

Chapter III

A MIGRATION. — THE FORTUNATE CIRCUM- STANCES OF OUR LIVES ARE GENERALLY FOUND AT LAST TO RE OF OUR OWN PRO- CURING. The only hope of our family now was, that the report of our misfortune might be malicious or premature ; but a letter from my agent in town soon came with a confirmation of every particular. The loss of fortune to myself alone would have been trifling ; the only uneasiness I felt was for my family, who were to be humble without an education to render them callous to contempt. Near a fortnight had passed before I at tempted to restrain their affliction ; for pre mature consolation is but the remembrancer of sorrow. During this interval, my thoughts The leaving a neighbourhood in which we hai enjoyed so manv hours of tranquillity, was not without a tear which scarcely fortitude lt-eli could suppress.

Besides, a journey of seventy miles to a family that had hitherto never been above ten from home, filled us w ith apprehen sion ; and the cries ofthe poor, who followed us for some miles, contributed to increase it. The first day's journey brought us in safety within thirty miles of our future retreat, and we put up for the night at an obscure inn in a village by the way. When we were shown a room, I desired the landlord, in my usual way, to let us have his company, with which he complied, as what he drank would increase the bill next morning. — He knew, however, the whole neighbourhood to which I was remov ing, particularly 'Squire Thornhill, who was to be my landlord, and who lived within a few miles of the place. This gentleman he de scribed as one who desired to know little more of the world than its pleasures, being particu larly remarkable for his attachment to the fair sex.

He observed that no virtue was able to resist his arts and assiduity, and that scarcely a farmer's daughter within ten miles round, but what had found him successful and faith less. Though this account gave me some pain, it had a very different effect upon my daughters, whose features seemed to briuhten with the expectation of an approaching tri umph : nor was my wife less pleased and con. fident of their allurements and virtue. While our thoughts were thus employed, the hostess entered the room to inform her husband, that the strange gentleman, who had been two days in the house, wanted money, and could not satisfy them for his reckoning. " Want money !" replied the host, " that must be im possible ; for it was no later than yesterday he paid three guineas to our beadle to spaie an old broken soldier tbat was to be whipped through the town for dog-stealing."

The hostess, however, still persisting in her first assertion, he was preparing to leave the room, swearing that be would be satisfied one way or another, when I begged the landlord would introduce me to a stranger of so much charily as be described. With this he complied, showing in a gentleman who seemed to he about thirty, dressed in clothes that once were laced. His person was well formed, and his face marked with the lines of thinking. He had something short and dry in his address, and seemed not to understand ceremony, or to despise it. Upon the landlord's leaving the room, I could not avoid expressing my concern to the stranger at seeing a gentleman in such circumstances, and offered him my purse to satisfy the present demand. " I take it with all my heart, Sir," replied he, " and am -lad that a late oversight in giving what money I had about me, has shown me that there are still some men like you.

I must, however, previously entreat being informed of the name and residence of my benefactor, in order t» were employed on some future means of sup porting them ; and at last a small cure of fifteen pounds a-year was offered me in a distant neighbourhood, where I could still en joy my principles without molestation. With this proposal I joyfully closed, having deter mined to increase my salary by managing a little farm. Having taken this resoluti n. my next care was to get together the wrecks of my for tune : and, all debts collected and paid, out of fourteen thousand pounds we had but four hundred remaining. My chief attention, there fore, was now to bring down tbe pride of my family to their circumstances ; for I well knew that aspiring beggary is wretchedness it self. " You cannot be ignorant, my children." cried I, " that no prudence of ours could have prevented our late misfortune ; but pru dence may do much in disappointing its effects.

We are now poor, my fondlings, and wisdom bidsusconfoim to our humble situation. Let us then, without repining, give up those splendours with which numbers are wretched, and seek in humbler circumstances that peace with which all may be happy. The poor live pleasantly without our help, why then should not welearn to live without theirs ? No, my children, let us from this moment give up all pretensions to gentility -, we have still enough left for happiness, if we are wise ; and let us draw upon content for the deficien cies of fortune." As my eldest son was bred a scholar, I de termined to send him to town, where his abilities might contribute to our support and his own. The separation of friends and families is, perhaps, one of the most distressful circumstances attendant on penury. The day soon arrived on which we were to disperse for the first time.

My son, after taking leave of his mother and the rest, who mingled their tears with their kisses, came to ask a blessing from me. This I gave him from my heart, and which, added to five guineas, was all the patrimony I had now to bestow. " You are going, my boy," cried I, " to London on foot, iu the manner Hooker, your great ancestor, travelled there before you. Take from me the same horse that was given him by the good bishop Jewel, this staff, and this book too, it will be your comfort on the way : these two lines in it are worth a million, I have been young, und now am old ,- yet never saw I the righteous man forsaken, or his seed begging their bread. Let this be your consolation as you travel on. Go, my boy ; whatever be thy fortune, letme see t'hee once a-year; still keep a good lieart, and farewell."

As he was possessed of integrity and honour, I was under no apprehensions from throwing him naked in to the ampliitheatre ol lite ; for I knew he would act a good part whether vanquished or victorious. His departure only prepared the way for our own, which arrived a few days afterwards. repay him as soon as possible." In this I satisfied him fully, not only mentioning my name and late misfortunes, but the place to which I was going to remove. '• This," cried he, "happens still more luckily than I hoped for, as I am going the same way myself, having been detained here two days by the floods, which I hope by to-morrow will be found pass able." I testified the pleasure I should have in his company, and my wife and daughters joining in entreaty, he was prevailed upon to stay supper. The stranger's conversation, which was at once pleasing and instructive, induced me to wish for a continuance of it ; but it was now high time to retire and take refresh ment against the fatigues of the following day.

The next morning we all set forward together : my family on horsebuck, while Mr Bur chell, our new companion, walked along the foot-path by the road-side, observing with a smile, that as we were ill mounted, he would be too generous to attempt leaving us I ehind. As the Hoods were not yet subsided, we were obliged to hire a guide, who trotted on before, Mr Burchell and I bringing up the rear. We lightened tl e fatigues ofthe road with philosophical disputes, which he seemed to under stand perfectly. But what surprised me most was, that though he was a money-borrower, he defended his opinions with as much obsti nacy as if he had been my patron. He now and then also informed me to whom the diffe rent seats belonged tbat lay in our view as we travelled tbe road. " That," cried he, point ing to a very magnificent house which stood at some distance, " belongs to Mr Thornhill, a young gentleman who enjoys a large fortune, though entirely dependent on the will of his uncle, Sir William Thornhill, a gentleman, who, content with a little himself, permits his nephew to enjoy the rest, and chiefly resides in town."

" What!" cried I, "is my young landlord then the nephew of a man, whose virtues, generosity, and singularities are so universally known ? I have heard Sir William Thornhill represented as one of the most generous yet whimsical men in the kingdom ; a man of consummate benevolence." — " Some thing, perhaps, too much so," replied Mr Bur chell ; " at least he carried benevolence to an excess when young ; for his passions were then strong, and as they were all upon the side of virtue, they led it up to a romantic extreme. He early began to aim at tbe qualifications of the soldier and scholar ; was soon distinguish. ed in the army, and had some reputation among men of learning. Adulation ever follows thc ambitious ; for such alone receive most plea sure from flattery. He was surrounded with crowds, who showed him only one side of their character ; so that he began to lose a regard for private interest in universal sympathy.

He loved all mankind ; for fortune prevented him from knowing that there were rascals. Physicians tel) us of a disorder, in which the whole body is so txquisitely sensible tbat the slightest touch gives pain : what some have thus suffered in their persons, this gentleman felt in his mind. The slightest distress, whether real or fictitious, touched him to the quick, and his soul laboured under a sickly sensibility of the miseries of others. Thus disposed to relieve, it will be easily conjectured he found numbers disposed to solicit ; his profusions began to impair his fortune, but not I is good-nature ; that, indeed, was seen to increase as the other seemed to decay ; he grew provident as he grew poor ; and though he talked like a man of sense, his ac tions were those of a fool. Still, however, being surrounded with importunity, and no longer able to satisfy eveiy request that was made him, instead of money he gave promises.

They were all he had to bestow, and he had not resolution enough to give any man pain by a denial. By this he drewround him crowds of dependents, whom he was sure to disappoint yet wished to relieve. These hung upon him for a time, and left him with merited re proaches and contempt. But in proportion as he became contemptible to others, he became despicable to himself. His mind had leaned upon their adulation, and that support taken away, he could find no pleasure in the applause of his heart, which he had never learnt to rev ereicc. The world now began to wear a different aspect ; the flattery of his friends be gan to dwindle into simple approbation. Ap probation soon took the more friendly form of advice, and advice when rejected produced their reproaches. He now therefore found, that such friends as benefits had gathered round him, were little estimable ; he now found that a man's own heart must be ever given to gain that of another.

I now found, that — that — I forget what I was going to ob serve : in short, Sir, he resolved to respect himself', and laid down a plan of restoring his falling fortune. For this purpose, in his ow n whimsical manner, he travelled through Eu rope on foot, and now, though he has scarcely attained the age of thirty, his circumstances are more affluent than ever. At present, his bounties arc more rational and moderate than before; but still he preserves the character us a humourist, and finds most pleasure in ec centric virtues." My attention was so much taken up by Mr Burchell's account, that I scarcely looked forward as he went along, till we were alarmed by the cries of my family, when turning, I per ceived my youngest daughter in the midst of a rapid stream, thrown from ber horse, and struggling with the torrent.