The Vicar of Wakefield. Оливер Голдсмит
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу The Vicar of Wakefield - Оливер Голдсмит страница 3
15. All Mr. Burchell’s villainy at once detected. The folly
of being-over-wise
16. The Family use art, which is opposed with still greater
17. Scarce any virtue found to resist the power of long and
pleasing temptation 18. The pursuit of a father to reclaim a
lost child to virtue
19. The description of a Person discontented with the
present government, and apprehensive of the loss of our
liberties
20. The history of a philosophic vagabond, pursuing novelty,
but losing content
21. The short continuance of friendship among the vicious,
which is coeval only with mutual satisfaction
22. Offences are easily pardoned where there is love at
bottom
23. None but the guilty can be long and completely miserable
24. Fresh calamities
25. No situation, however wretched it seems, but has some
sort of comfort attending it
26. A reformation in the gaol. To make laws complete, they
should reward as well as punish
27. The same subject continued
28. 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
29. The equal dealings of providence demonstrated with
regard to the happy and the miserable here below. That from
the nature of pleasure and pain, the wretched must be repaid
the balance of their sufferings in the life hereafter
30. Happier prospects begin to appear. Let us be inflexible,
and fortune will at last change in our favour
31. Former benevolence now repaid with unexpected interest
32. The Conclusion
CHAPTER 1
The description of the family of Wakefield; in which a kindred likeness prevails 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 scarce taken orders a year before I began to think seriously of matrimony, and chose my wife as she did her wedding gown, not for a fine glossy surfaces but 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 shew 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 house-keeping; tho’ I could never find that we grew richer with all her contrivances. However, we loved each other tenderly, and our fondness encreased as we grew old. There was in fact nothing that could make us angry with the world or each other. We had an elegant house, 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 them find fault with it. Our cousins too, even to the fortieth remove, all remembered their affinity, without any help from the Herald’s office, and came very frequently to see us. Some 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 wife always insisted that as they were the same flesh and blood, they should sit with us at the same table. So that if we had not, very rich, we generally had very happy friends about us; for this remark will hold good thro’ life, that the poorer the guest, the better pleased he ever is with being treated: and as some men gaze with admiration at the colours of a tulip, or the wing of a butterfly, so I was by nature an admirer of happy human faces. However, when any one of our relations was found to be a person of very bad character, a troublesome guest, or one we desired to get rid of, upon his leaving my house, I ever took care to lend him a riding coat, or a pair of boots, or sometimes an horse of small value, and I always had the satisfaction of finding he never came back to return them. By this the house was cleared of such as we did not like; but never was the family of Wakefield known to turn the traveller or the poor dependent out of doors.
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 orchard was often robbed by school-boys, 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 his lady return my wife’s civilities at church with a mutilated curtesy. But we soon got over the uneasiness caused by such accidents, and usually in three or four days began to wonder how they vext 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 through Germany, while other courtiers came with their treasures, brought his thirty-two children, and presented them to his sovereign as the most valuable offering he had to bestow. In this manner, though I had but six, I considered them as a very valuable present made to my country, and 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 intended 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 had 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 the satisfaction of my