The Vicar of Wakefield

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THE VICAR

OF WAKEFIELD

A TALE

Supposed to be written by Himself

Sperate miseri, cavete faelices

ADVERTISEMENT

There are an hundred faults in this Thing, and an hundred things
might be said to prove them beauties. But it is needless. A book
may be amusing with numerous errors, or it may be very dull
without a single absurdity. The hero of this piece unites in
himself the three greatest characters upon earth; he is a priest,
an husbandman, and the father of a family. He is drawn as ready
to teach, and ready to obey, as simple in affluence, and majestic
in adversity. In this age of opulence and refinement whom can
such a character please? Such as are fond of high life, will turn
with disdain from the simplicity of his country fire-side. Such
as mistake ribaldry for humour, will find no wit in his harmless
conversation; and such as have been taught to deride religion,
will laugh at one whose chief stores of comfort are drawn from
futurity.

OLIVER GOLDSMITH

CONTENTS

1. The description of the family of Wakefield; in which a kindred
likeness prevails as well of minds as of persons

2. Family misfortunes. The loss of fortune only serves to
increase the pride of the worthy

3. A migration. The fortunate circumstances of our lives are
generally found at last to be of our own procuring

4. A proof that even the humblest fortune may grant happiness,
which depends not on circumstance, but constitution 5. A new and
great acquaintance introduced. What we place most hopes upon
generally proves most fatal

6. The happiness of a country fire-side

7. A town wit described. The dullest fellows may learn to be
comical for a night or two

8. An amour, which promises little good fortune, yet may be
productive of much

9. Two ladies of great distinction introduced. Superior finery
ever seems to confer superior breeding

10. The family endeavours to cope with their betters. The
miseries of the poor when they attempt to appear above their
circumstances

11. The family still resolve to hold up their heads

12. Fortune seems resolved to humble the family of Wakefield.
Mortifications are often more painful than real calamities

13. Mr Burchell is found to be an enemy; for he has the
confidence to give disagreeable advice

14. Fresh mortifications, or a demonstration that seeming
calamities may be real blessings

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 wife
were even greater than mine. When our visitors would say, 'Well,
upon my word, Mrs Primrose, you have the finest children in the
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
me, that I should scarce have remembered to mention it, had it
not been a general topic of conversation in the country. Olivia,
now about eighteen, had that luxuriancy 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
successfully 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 carried to excess in either, and I
have often seen them exchange characters for a whole day
together. A suit of mourning has transformed my coquet into a
prude, and a new set of ribbands has given her younger sister
more than natural vivacity. My eldest son George was bred at
Oxford, as I intended him for one of the learned professions. My
second boy Moses, whom I designed for business, received a sort
of a miscellaneous education 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 2

Family misfortunes. The loss of fortune only serves to encrease
the pride 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 direction. The profits of my living, which amounted to but
thirty-five pounds a year, I made over to the orphans and widows
of the clergy of our diocese; for having a sufficient fortune of
my own, I was careless of temporalities, 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
wanting 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 unlawful for a priest
of the church of England, after the death of his first wife, to
take a second, or to express it in one word, I valued myself upon
being a strict monogamist. I was early innitiated into this
important dispute, on which so many laborious volumes have been
written. I published some tracts upon the subject myself, which,
as they never sold, I have the consolation of thinking are read
only by the happy Few. Some of my friends called this my weak
side; but alas! they 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 of William Whiston; so I wrote a similar epitaph
for my wife, though still living, in which I extolled her
prudence, oeconomy, and obedience till death; and having got it
copied fair, with an elegant frame, it was placed over the
chimney-piece, where it answered several very useful purposes. It
admonished my wife of her duty to me, and my fidelity to her; it
inspired her with a passion for fame, and constantly put her in
mind of her end.

It was thus, perhaps, from hearing marriage so often recommended,
that my eldest son, just upon leaving college, fixed his
affections upon the daughter of a neighbouring clergyman, who was
a dignitary in the church, and in circumstances to give her a
large fortune: but fortune was her smallest accomplishment. Miss
Arabella Wilmot 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 an
happy sensibility of look, as even age could not gaze on with
indifference. 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. Being 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 company,
seemed to encrease 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 herself, 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 backgammon, 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
describe the busy importance of my wife, nor the sly looks of my
daughters: in fact, my attention was fixed on another object, the
completing 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 shewing 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 violently 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 ceremony, we agreed to discuss the subject at
large. It was managed with proper spirit on both sides: he
asserted that I was heterodox, I retorted the charge: he replied,
and I rejoined. In the mean time, while the controversy was
hottest, I was called out by one of my relations, 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 an 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 unwilling to shock you or the family
with the account till after the wedding: 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 fortune 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 induce 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 an husband in any sense of the expression.'

It would be endless to describe the different sensations of both
families when I divulged 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 3

A migration. The fortunate circumstances of our lives are
generally found at last to be of our own procuring

The only hope of our family now was, that the report of our
misfortunes 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 attempted to restrain their
affliction; for premature consolation is but the remembrancer of
sorrow. During this interval, my thoughts were employed on some
future means of supporting them; and at last a small Cure of
fifteen pounds a year was offered me in a distant neighbourhood,
where I could still enjoy my principles without molestation. With
this proposal I joyfully closed, having determined to encrease my
salary by managing a little farm.

Having taken this resolution, my next care was to get together
the wrecks of my fortune; and all debts collected and paid, out
of fourteen thousand pounds we had but four hundred remaining. My
chief attention therefore was now to bring down the pride of my
family to their circumstances; for I well knew that aspiring
beggary is wretchedness itself. 'You cannot be ignorant, my
children,' cried I, 'that no prudence of ours could have
prevented our late misfortune; but prudence may do much in
disappointing its effects. We are now poor, my fondlings, and
wisdom bids us conform 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 we learn 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 deficiencies of fortune.' As my eldest
son was bred a scholar, I determined 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, in 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 take this
book too, it will be your comfort on the way: these two lines in
it are worth a million, I have been young, and 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 let me see thee once a year; still keep a
good heart, and farewell.' As he was possest of integrity and
honour, I was under no apprehensions from throwing him naked into
the amphitheatre of life; 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. The leaving
a neighbourhood in which we had enjoyed so many hours of
tranquility, was not without a tear, which scarce fortitude
itself could suppress. Besides, a journey of seventy miles to a
family that had hitherto never been above ten from home, filled
us with apprehension, and the cries of the poor, who followed us
for some miles, contributed to encrease 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 shewn 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 encrease the bill next
morning. He knew, however, the whole neighbourhood to which I was
removing, particularly 'Squire Thornhill, who was to be my
landlord, and who lived within a few miles of the place. This
gentleman he described as one who desired to know little more of
the world than its pleasures, being particularly remarkable for
his attachment to the fair sex. He observed that no virtue was
able to resist his arts and assiduity, and that scarce a farmer's
daughter within ten miles round but what had found him successful
and faithless. Though this account gave me some pain, it had a
very different effect upon my daughters, whose features seemed to
brighten with the expectation of an approaching triumph, nor was
my wife less pleased and confident 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 impossible; for it was no later than
yesterday he paid three guineas to our beadle to spare an old
broken soldier that 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 he
would be satisfied one way or another, when I begged the landlord
would introduce me to a stranger of so much charity as he
described. With this he complied, shewing in a gentleman who
seemed to be about thirty, drest in cloaths 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
glad that a late oversight in giving what money I had about me,
has shewn 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 to 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 passable.' 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 refreshment against the fatigues of the following day.

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