8. CHAPTER VIII.
What passed between Jones and old Mr. Nightingale; with the
arrival of a person not yet mentioned in this history
Notwithstanding the sentiment of the Roman satirist, which denies
the divinity of fortune, and the opinion of Seneca to the same
purpose; Cicero, who was, I believe, a wiser man than either of
them, expressly holds the contrary; and certain it is, there are
some incidents in life so very strange and unaccountable, that it
seems to require more than human skill and foresight in producing
them.
Of this kind was what now happened to Jones, who found Mr.
Nightingale the elder in so critical a minute, that Fortune, if she
was really worthy all the worship she received at Rome, could not have
contrived such another. In short, the old gentleman, and the father of
the young lady whom he intended for his son, had been hard at it for
many hours; and the latter was just now gone, and had left the
former delighted with the thoughts that he had succeeded in a long
contention, which had been between the two fathers of the future bride
and bridegroom; in which both endeavoured to overreach the other, and,
as it not rarely happens in such cases, both had retreated fully
satisfied of having obtained the victory.
This gentleman, whom Mr. Jones now visited, was what they call a man
of the world; that is to say, a man who directs his conduct in this
world as one who, being fully persuaded there is no other, is resolved
to make the most of this. In his early years he had been bred to
trade; but, having acquired a very good fortune, he had lately
declined his business; or, to speak more properly, had changed it from
dealing in goods, to dealing only in money, of which he had always a
plentiful fund at command, and of which he knew very well how to
make a very plentiful advantage, sometimes of the necessities of
private men, and sometimes of those of the public. He had indeed
conversed so intirely with money, that it may be almost doubted
whether he imagined there was any other thing really existing in the
world; this at least may be certainly averred, that he firmly believed
nothing else to have any real value.
The reader will, I fancy, allow that Fortune could not have culled
out a more improper person for Mr. Jones to attack with any
probability of success; nor could the whimsical lady have directed
this attack at a more unseasonable time.
As money then was always uppermost in this gentleman's thoughts,
so the moment he saw a stranger within his doors, it immediately
occurred to his imagination, that such stranger was either come to
bring him money, or to fetch it from him. And according as one or
other of these thoughts prevailed, he conceived a favourable or
unfavourable idea of the person who approached him.
Unluckily for Jones, the latter of these was the ascendant at
present; for as a young gentleman had visited him the day before, with
a bill from his son for a play debt, he apprehended, at the first
sight of Jones, that he was come on such another errand. Jones
therefore had no sooner told him that he was come on his son's
account, than the old gentleman, being confirmed in his suspicion,
burst forth into an exclamation, "That he would lose his labour."
"Is it then possible, sir," answered Jones, "that you can guess my
business?" "If I do guess it," replied the other, "I repeat again to
you, you will lose your labour. What, I suppose you are one of those
sparks who lead my son into all those scenes of riot and debauchery,
which will be his destruction? but I shall pay no more of his bills, I
promise you. I expect he will quit all such company for the future. If
I had imagined otherwise, I should not have provided a wife for him;
for I would be instrumental in the ruin of nobody." "How, sir," said
Jones, "and was this lady of your providing?" "Pray, sir," answered
the old gentleman, "how comes it to be any concern of yours?"- "Nay,
dear sir," replied Jones, "be not offended that I interest myself in
what regards your son's happiness, for whom I have so great an
honour and value. It was upon that very account I came to wait upon
you. I can't express the satisfaction you have given me by what you
say; for I do assure you, your son is a person for whom I have the
highest honour.- Nay, sir, it is not easy to express the esteem I
have for you; who could be so generous, so good, so kind, so indulgent
to provide such a match for your son; a woman, who, I dare swear, will
make him one of the happiest men upon earth."
There is scarce anything which so happily introduces men to our good
liking, as having conceived some alarm at their first appearance; when
once those apprehensions begin to vanish, we soon forget the fears
which they occasioned, and look on ourselves as indebted for our
present ease to those very persons who at first raised our fears.
Thus it happened to Nightingale, who no sooner found that Jones
had no demand on him, as he suspected, than he began to be pleased
with his presence. "Pray, good sir," said he, "be pleased to sit down.
I do not remember to have ever had the pleasure of seeing you
before; but if you are a friend of my son, and have anything to say
concerning this young lady, I shall be glad to hear you. As to her
making him happy, it will be his own fault if she doth not. I have
discharged my duty, in taking care of the main article. She will bring
him a fortune capable of making any reasonable, prudent, sober man,
happy." "Undoubtedly" cries Jones, "for she is in herself a fortune;
so beautiful, so genteel, so sweet-tempered, and so well-educated; she
is indeed a most accomplished young lady; sings admirably well, and
hath a most delicate hand at the harpsichord." "I did not know any
of these matters," answered the old gentleman, "for I never saw the
lady: but I do not like her the worse for what you tell me; and I am
the better pleased with her father for not laying any stress on
these qualifications in our bargain. I shall always think it a proof
of his understanding. A silly fellow would have brought in these
articles as an addition to her fortune; but, to give him his due, he
never mentioned any such matter; though to be sure they are no
disparagements to a woman." "I do assure you, sir," cries Jones,
"she hath them all in the most eminent degree: for my part, I own I
was afraid you might have been a little backward, a little less
inclined to the match; for your son told me you had never seen the
lady; therefore I came, sir, in that case, to entreat you, to
conjure you, as you value the happiness of your son, not to be
averse to his match with a woman who hath not only all the good
qualities I have mentioned, but many more."- "If that was your
business, sir," said the old gentleman, "we are both obliged to you;
and you may be perfectly easy; for I give you my word I was very
well satisfied with her fortune." "Sir," answered Jones, "I honour you
every moment more and more. To be so easily satisfied, so very
moderate on that account, is a proof of the soundness of your
understanding, as well as the nobleness of your mind."--"Not so very
moderate, young gentleman, not so very moderate," answered the
father.-- "Still more and more noble," replied Jones; "and give me
leave to add, sensible: for sure it is little less than madness to
consider money as the sole foundation of happiness. Such a woman as
this with her little, her nothing of a fortune"- "I find," cries the
old gentleman, "you have a pretty just opinion of money, my friend, or
else you are better acquainted with the person of the lady than with
her circumstances. Why, pray, what fortune do you imagine this lady to
have?" "What fortune?" cries Jones, "why, too contemptible a one to be
named for your son."- "Well, well, well," said the other, "perhaps he
might have done better."- "That I deny," said Jones, "for she is one
of the best of women."- "Ay, ay, but in point of fortune I mean,"
answered the other. "And yet, as to that now, how much do you imagine
your friend is to have?"- "How much?" cries Jones, "how much? Why, at
the utmost, perhaps £200." "Do you mean to banter me, young
gentleman?" said the father, a little angry. "No, upon my soul,"
answered Jones, "I am in earnest: nay, I believe I have gone to the
utmost farthing. If I do the lady an injury, I ask her pardon."
"Indeed you do," cries the father; "I am certain she hath fifty times
that sum, and she shall produce fifty to that before I consent that
she shall marry my son." "Nay," said Jones, "it is too late to talk of
consent now; if she had not fifty farthings, your son is married."-
"My son married!" answered the old gentleman, with surprize. "Nay,"
said Jones, "I thought you was unacquainted with it." "My son married
to Miss Harris!" answered he again. "To Miss Harris!" said Jones; "no,
sir; to Miss Nancy Miller, the daughter of Mrs Miller, at whose house
he lodged; a young lady, who, though her mother is reduced to let
lodgings-"- "Are you bantering, or are you in earnest?" cries the
father, with a most solemn voice. "Indeed, sir," answered Jones, "I
scorn the character of a banterer. I came to you in most serious
earnest, imagining, as I find true, that your son had never dared to
acquaint you with a match so much inferior to him in point of fortune,
though the reputation of the lady will suffer it no longer to remain a
secret."
While the father stood like one struck suddenly dumb at this news, a
gentleman came into the room, and saluted him by the name of brother.
But though these two were in consanguinity so nearly related, they
were in their dispositions almost the opposites to each other. The
brother who now arrived had likewise been bred to trade, in which he
no sooner saw himself worth £6000 than he purchased a small estate
with the greatest part of it, and retired into the country; where he
married the daughter of an unbeneficed clergyman; a young lady, who,
though she had neither beauty nor fortune, had recommended herself
to his choice entirely by her good humour, of which she possessed a
very large share.
With this woman he had, during twenty-five years, lived a life
more resembling the model which certain poets ascribe to the golden
age, than any of those patterns which are furnished by the present
times. By her he had four children, but none of them arrived at
maturity, except only one daughter, whom, in vulgar language, he and
his wife had spoiled; that is, had educated with the utmost tenderness
and fondness, which she returned to such a degree, that she had
actually refused a very extraordinary match with a gentleman a
little turned of forty, because she could not bring herself to part
with her parents.
The young lady whom Mr. Nightingale had intended for his son was a
near neighbour of his brother, and an acquaintance of his niece; and
in reality it was upon the account of his projected match, that he was
now come to town; not, indeed, to forward, but to dissuade his brother
from a purpose which he conceived would inevitably ruin his nephew;
for he foresaw no other event from a union with Miss Harris,
notwithstanding the largeness of her fortune, as neither her person
nor mind seemed to promise any kind of matrimonial felicity: for she
was very tall, very thin, very ugly, very affected, very silly, and
very ill-natured.
His brother, therefore, no sooner mentioned the marriage of his
nephew with Miss Miller, than he exprest the utmost satisfaction;
and when the father had very bitterly reviled his son, and
pronounced sentence of beggary upon him, the uncle began in the
following manner:
"If you was a little cooler, brother, I would ask you whether you
love your son for his sake or for your own. You would answer, I
suppose, and so I suppose you think, for his sake; and doubtless it is
his happiness which you intended in the marriage you proposed for him.
"Now, brother, to prescribe rules of happiness to others hath always
appeared to me very absurd, and to insist on doing this, very
tyrannical. It is a vulgar error, I know; but it is, nevertheless,
an error. And if this be absurd in other things, it is mostly so in
the affair of marriage, the happiness of which depends intirely on the
affection which subsists between the parties.
"I have therefore always thought it unreasonable in parents to
desire to chuse for their children on this occasion; since to force
affection is an impossible attempt; nay, so much doth love abhor
force, that I know not whether, through an unfortunate but uncurable
perverseness in our natures, it may not be even impatient of
persuasion.
"It is, however, true that, though a parent will not, I think,
wisely prescribe, he ought to be consulted on this occasion; and, in
strictness, perhaps, should at least have a negative voice. My nephew,
therefore, I own, in marrying, without asking your advice, hath been
guilty of a fault. But, honestly speaking, brother, have you not a
little promoted this fault? Have not your frequent declarations on
this subject given him a moral certainty of your refusal, where
there was any deficiency in point of fortune? Nay, doth not your
present anger arise solely from that deficiency? And if he hath failed
in his duty here, did you not as much exceed that authority, when
you absolutely bargained with him for a woman, without his
knowledge, whom you yourself never saw, and whom, if you had seen
and known as well as I, it must have been madness in you to have
ever thought of bringing her into your family?
"Still I own my nephew in a fault; but surely it is not an
unpardonable fault. He hath acted indeed without your consent, in a
matter in which he ought to have asked it, but it is in a matter in
which his interest is principally concerned; you yourself must and
will acknowledge, that you consulted his interest only, and if he
unfortunately differed from you, and hath been mistaken in his
notion of happiness, will you, brother, if you love your son, carry
him still wider from the point? Will you increase the ill consequences
of his simple choice? Will you endeavour to make an event certain
misery to him, which may accidentally prove so? In a word, brother,
because he hath put it out of your power to make his circumstances
as affluent as you would, will you distress them as much as you can?"
By the force of the true Catholic faith, St. Anthony won upon the
fishes. Orpheus and Amphion went a little farther, and by the charms
of music enchanted things merely inanimate. Wonderful, both! but
neither history nor fable have ever yet ventured to record an instance
of any one, who, by force of argument and reason, hath triumphed
over habitual avarice.
Mr. Nightingale, the father, instead of attempting to answer his
brother, contented himself with only observing, that they had always
differed in their sentiments concerning the education of their
children. "I wish," said he, "brother, you would have confined your
care to your own daughter, and never have troubled yourself with my
son, who hath, I believe, as little profited by your precepts, as by
your example." For young Nightingale was his uncle's godson, and had
lived more with him than with his father. So that the uncle had
often declared, he loved his nephew almost equally with his own child.
Jones fell into raptures with this good gentleman; and when, after
much persuasion, they found the father grew still more and more
irritated, instead of appeased, Jones conducted the uncle to his
nephew at the house of Mrs. Miller.