6. CHAPTER VI.
What arrived while the company were at breakfast, with some hints
concerning the government of daughters
Our company brought together in the morning the same good
inclinations towards each other, with which they had separated the
evening before; but poor Jones was extremely disconsolate; for he
had just received information from Partridge, that Mrs. Fitzpatrick
had left her lodging, and that he could not learn whither she was
gone. This news highly afflicted him, and his countenance, as well
as his behaviour, in defiance of all his endeavours to the contrary,
betrayed manifest indications of a disordered mind.
The discourse turned at present, as before, on love; and Mr.
Nightingale again expressed many of those warm, generous, and
disinterested sentiments upon this subject, which wise and sober men
call romantic, but which wise and sober women generally regard in a
better light. Mrs. Miller (for so the mistress of the house was
called) greatly approved these sentiments; but when the young
gentleman appealed to Miss Nancy, she answered only, "That she
believed the gentleman who had spoke the least was capable of
feeling most."
This compliment was so apparently directed to Jones, that we
should have been sorry had he passed it by unregarded. He made her
indeed a very polite answer, and concluded with an oblique hint,
that her own silence subjected to a suspicion of the same kind: for
indeed she had scarce opened her lips either now or the last evening.
"I am glad, Nanny," says Mrs. Miller, "the gentleman hath made the
observation; I protest I am almost of his opinion. What can be the
matter with you, child? I never saw such an alteration. What is become
of all your gaiety? Would you think, sir, I used to call her my little
pratler? She hath not spoke twenty words this week."
Here their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a
maid-servant, who brought a bundle in her hand, which, she said,
"was delivered by a porter for Mr. Jones." She added, "That the man
immediately went away, saying, it required no answer."
Jones expressed some surprize on this occasion, and declared it must
be some mistake; but the maid persisting that she was certain of the
name, all the women were desirous of having the bundle immediately
opened; which operation was at length performed by little Betsy,
with the consent of Mr. Jones: and the contents were found to be a
domino, a mask, and a masquerade ticket.
Jones was now more positive than ever in asserting, that these
things must have been delivered by mistake; and Mrs. Miller herself
expressed some doubt, and said, "She knew not what to think." But when
Mr. Nightingale was asked, he delivered a very different opinion. "All
I can conclude from it, sir," said he, "is, that you are a very
happy man; for I make no doubt but these were sent you by some lady
whom you will have the happiness of meeting at the masquerade."
Jones had not a sufficient degree of vanity to entertain any such
flattering imagination; nor did Mrs. Miller herself give much assent
to what Mr. Nightingale had said, till Miss Nancy having lifted up the
domino, a card dropt from the sleeve; in which was written as
follows:-
TO MR. JONES
The queen of the fairies sends you this;
Use her favours not amiss.
Mrs. Miller and Miss Nancy now both agreed with Mr. Nightingale;
nay, Jones himself was almost persuaded to be of the same opinion. And
as no other lady but Mrs. Fitzpatrick, he thought, knew his lodging,
he began to flatter himself with some hopes, that it came from her,
and that he might possibly see his Sophia. These hopes had surely very
little foundation; but as the conduct of Mrs. Fitzpatrick, in not
seeing him according to her promise, and in quitting her lodgings, had
been very odd and unaccountable, he conceived some faint hopes, that
she (of whom he had formerly heard a very whimsical character) might
possibly intend to do him that service in a strange manner, which
she declined doing by more ordinary methods. To say the truth, as
nothing certain could be concluded from so odd and uncommon an
incident, he had the greater latitude to draw what imaginary
conclusions from it he pleased. As his temper therefore was
naturally sanguine, he indulged it on this occasion, and his
imagination worked up a thousand conceits, to favour and support his
expectations of meeting his dear Sophia in the evening.
Reader, if thou hast any good wishes towards me, I will fully
repay them by wishing thee to be possessed of this sanguine
disposition of mind; since, after having read much and considered long
on that subject of happiness which hath employed so many great pens, I
am almost inclined to fix it in the possession of this temper; which
puts us, in a manner, out of the reach of Fortune, and makes us
happy without her assistance. Indeed, the sensations of pleasure it
gives are much more constant, as well as much keener, than those which
that blind lady bestows; nature having wisely contrived, that some
satiety and languor should be annexed to all our real enjoyments, lest
we should be so taken up by them, as to be stopt from further
pursuits. I make no manner of doubt but that, in this light, we may
see the imaginary future chancellor just called to the bar, the
archbishop in crape, and the prime minister at the tail of an
opposition, more truly happy than those who are invested with all
the power and profit of those respective offices.
Mr. Jones having now determined to go to the masquerade that
evening, Mr. Nightingale offered to conduct him thither. The young
gentleman, at the same time, offered tickets to Miss Nancy and her
mother; but the good woman would not accept them. She said, "she did
not conceive the harm which some people imagined in a masquerade;
but that such extravagant diversions were proper only for persons of
quality and fortune, and not for young women who were to get their
living, and could, at best, hope to be married to a good
tradesman."-- "A tradesman!" cries Nightingale, "you shan't undervalue
my Nancy. There is not a nobleman upon earth above her merit." "O fie!
Mr. Nightingale," answered Mrs. Miller, "you must not fill the
girl's head with such fancies: but if it was her good luck" (says
the mother with a simper) "to find a gentleman of your generous way of
thinking, I hope she would make a better return to his generosity than
to give her mind up to extravagant pleasures. Indeed, where young
ladies bring great fortunes themselves, they have some right to insist
on spending what is their own; and on that account I have heard the
gentlemen say, a man has sometimes a better bargain with a poor
wife, than with a rich one.-- But let my daughters marry whom they
will, I shall endeavour to make them blessings to their husbands:-- I
beg, therefore, I may hear of no more masquerades. Nancy is, I am
certain, too good a girl to desire to go; for she must remember when
you carried her thither last year, it almost turned her head; and
she did not return to herself, or to her needle, in a month
afterwards."
Though a gentle sigh, which stole from the bosom of Nancy, seemed to
argue some secret disapprobation of these sentiments, she did not dare
openly to oppose them. For as this good woman had all the
tenderness, so she had preserved all the authority of a parent; and as
her indulgence to the desires of her children was restrained only by
her fears for their safety and future welfare, so she never suffered
those commands which proceeded from such fears to be either
disobeyed or disputed. And this the young gentleman, who had lodged
two years in the house, knew so well, that he presently acquiesced
in the refusal.
Mr. Nightingale, who grew every minute fonder of Jones, was very
desirous of his company that day to dinner at the tavern, where he
offered to introduce him to some of his acquaintance; but Jones begged
to be excused, "as his cloaths," he said, "were not yet come to town."
To confess the truth, Mr. Jones was now in a situation, which
sometimes happens to be the case of young gentlemen of much better
figure than himself. In short, he had not one penny in his pocket; a
situation in much greater credit among the antient philosophers,
than among the modern wise men who live in Lombard-street, or those
who frequent White's chocolate-house. And, perhaps, the great
honours which those philosophers have ascribed to an empty pocket, may
be one of the reasons of that high contempt in which they are held
in the aforesaid street and chocolate-house.
Now if the antient opinion, that men might live very comfortably
on virtue only, be, as the modern wise men just above-mentioned
pretend to have discovered, a notorious error; no less false is, I
apprehend, that position of some writers of romance, that a man can
live altogether on love: for however delicious repasts this may afford
to some of our senses or appetites, it is most certain it can afford
none to others. Those, therefore, who have placed too great a
confidence in such writers, have experienced their error when it was
too late; and have found that love was no more capable of allaying
hunger, than a rose is capable of delighting the ear, or a violin of
gratifying the smell.
Notwithstanding, therefore, all the delicacies which love had set
before him, namely, the hopes of seeing Sophia at the masquerade; on
which, however ill-founded his imagination might be, he had
voluptuously feasted during the whole day, the evening no sooner came,
than Mr. Jones began to languish for some food of a grosser kind.
Partridge discovered this by intuition, and took the occasion to
give some oblique hints concerning the bankbill; and, when these
were rejected with disdain, he collected courage enough once more to
mention a return to Mr. Allworthy.
"Partridge," cries Jones, "you cannot see my fortune in a more
desperate light than I see it myself; and I begin heartily to repent
that I suffered you to leave a place where you was settled, and to
follow me. However, I insist now on your returning home; and for the
expense and trouble which you have so kindly put yourself to on my
account, all the cloaths I left behind in your care I desire you would
take as your own. I am sorry I can make you no other acknowledgment."
He spoke these words with so pathetic an accent, that Partridge,
among whose vices ill-nature or hardness of heart were not numbered,
burst into tears; and after swearing he would not quit him in his
distress, he began with the most earnest entreaties to urge his return
home. "For heaven's sake, sir," says he, "do but consider; what can
your honour do?- how is it possible you can live in this town without
money? Do what you will, sir, or go wherever you please, I am resolved
not to desert you. But pray, sir, consider- do pray, sir, for your
own sake, take it into your consideration; and I'm sure," says he,
"that your own good sense will bid you return home."
"How often shall I tell thee," answered Jones, "that I have no
home to return to? Had I any hopes that Mr. Allworthy's doors would be
open to receive me, I want no distress to urge me- nay, there is no
other cause upon earth, which could detain me a moment from flying
to his presence; but, alas! that I am for ever banished from. His last
words were- O, Partridge, they still ring in my ears- his last words
were, when he gave me a sum of money- what it was I know not, but
considerable I'm sure it was- his last words were- 'I am resolved from
this day forward, on no account, to converse with you any more.'
Here passion stopt the mouth of Jones, as surprize for a moment
did that of Partridge; but he soon recovered the use of speech, and
after a short preface, in which he declared he had no
inquisitiveness in his temper, inquired what Jones meant by a
considerable sum- he knew not how much- and what was become of the
money.
In both these points he now received full satisfaction; on which
he was proceeding to comment, when he was interrupted by a message
from Mr. Nightingale, who desired his master's company in his
apartment.
When the two gentlemen were both attired for the masquerade, and Mr.
Nightingale had given orders for chairs to be sent for, a circumstance
of distress occurred to Jones, which will appear very ridiculous to
many of my readers. This was how to procure a shilling; but if such
readers will reflect a little on what they have themselves felt from
the want of a thousand pounds, or, perhaps, of ten or twenty, to
execute a favourite scheme, they will have a perfect idea of what
Mr. Jones felt on this occasion. For this sum, therefore, he applied
to Partridge, which was the first he had permitted him to advance, and
was the last he intended that poor fellow should advance in his
service. To say the truth, Partridge had lately made no offer of
this kind. Whether it was that he desired to see the bank-bill broke
in upon, or that distress should prevail on Jones to return home, or
from what other motive it proceeded, I will not determine.