CHAPTER VIII.
_A discourse which happened between Mr Adams, Mrs Adams, Joseph, andFanny; with some behaviour of Mr Adams which will be called by some fewreaders very low, absurd, and unnatural._
The parson and his wife had just ended a long dispute when the loverscame to the door. Indeed, this young couple had been the subject of thedispute; for Mrs Adams was one of those prudent people who never doanything to injure their families, or, perhaps, one of those goodmothers who would even stretch their conscience to serve their children.She had long entertained hopes of seeing her eldest daughter succeed MrsSlipslop, and of making her second son an exciseman by Lady Booby'sinterest. These were expectations she could not endure the thoughts ofquitting, and was, therefore, very uneasy to see her husband so resoluteto oppose the lady's intention in Fanny's affair. She told him, "Itbehoved every man to take the first care of his family; that he had awife and six children, the maintaining and providing for whom would bebusiness enough for him without intermeddling in other folks' affairs;that he had always preached up submission to superiors, and would do illto give an example of the contrary behaviour in his own conduct; that ifLady Booby did wrong she must answer for it herself, and the sin wouldnot lie at their door; that Fanny had been a servant, and bred up in thelady's own family, and consequently she must have known more of her thanthey did, and it was very improbable, if she had behaved herself well,that the lady would have been so bitterly her enemy; that perhaps he wastoo much inclined to think well of her because she was handsome, buthandsome women were often no better than they should be; that G-- madeugly women as well as handsome ones; and that if a woman had virtue itsignified nothing whether she had beauty or no." For all which reasonsshe concluded he should oblige the lady, and stop the future publicationof the banns. But all these excellent arguments had no effect on theparson, who persisted in doing his duty without regarding theconsequence it might have on his worldly interest. He endeavoured toanswer her as well as he could; to which she had just finished her reply(for she had always the last word everywhere but at church) when Josephand Fanny entered their kitchen, where the parson and his wife then satat breakfast over some bacon and cabbage. There was a coldness in thecivility of Mrs Adams which persons of accurate speculation might haveobserved, but escaped her present guests; indeed, it was a good dealcovered by the heartiness of Adams, who no sooner heard that Fanny hadneither eat nor drank that morning than he presented her a bone of baconhe had just been gnawing, being the only remains of his provision, andthen ran nimbly to the tap, and produced a mug of small beer, which hecalled ale; however, it was the best in his house. Joseph, addressinghimself to the parson, told him the discourse which had past betweenSquire Booby, his sister, and himself concerning Fanny; he thenacquainted him with the dangers whence he had rescued her, andcommunicated some apprehensions on her account. He concluded that heshould never have an easy moment till Fanny was absolutely his, andbegged that he might be suffered to fetch a licence, saying he couldeasily borrow the money. The parson answered, That he had already givenhis sentiments concerning a licence, and that a very few days would makeit unnecessary. "Joseph," says he, "I wish this haste doth not ariserather from your impatience than your fear; but, as it certainly springsfrom one of these causes, I will examine both. Of each of thesetherefore in their turn; and first for the first of these, namely,impatience. Now, child, I must inform you that, if in your purposedmarriage with this young woman you have no intention but the indulgenceof carnal appetites, you are guilty of a very heinous sin. Marriage wasordained for nobler purposes, as you will learn when you hear theservice provided on that occasion read to you. Nay, perhaps, if you area good lad, I, child, shall give you a sermon gratis, wherein I shalldemonstrate how little regard ought to be had to the flesh on suchoccasions. The text will be Matthew the 5th, and part of the 28thverse--_Whosoever looketh on a woman, so as to lust after her_. Thelatter part I shall omit, as foreign to my purpose. Indeed, all suchbrutal lusts and affections are to be greatly subdued, if not totallyeradicated, before the vessel can be said to be consecrated to honour.To marry with a view of gratifying those inclinations is a prostitutionof that holy ceremony, and must entail a curse on all who so lightlyundertake it. If, therefore, this haste arises from impatience, you areto correct, and not give way to it. Now, as to the second head which Iproposed to speak to, namely, fear: it argues a diffidence, highlycriminal, of that Power in which alone we should put our trust, seeingwe may be well assured that he is able, not only to defeat the designsof our enemies, but even to turn their hearts. Instead of taking,therefore, any unjustifiable or desperate means to rid ourselves offear, we should resort to prayer only on these occasions; and we may bethen certain of obtaining what is best for us. When any accidentthreatens us we are not to despair, nor, when it overtakes us, togrieve; we must submit in all things to the will of Providence, and setour affections so much on nothing here that we cannot quit it withoutreluctance. You are a young man, and can know but little of this world;I am older, and have seen a great deal. All passions are criminal intheir excess; and even love itself, if it is not subservient to ourduty, may render us blind to it. Had Abraham so loved his son Isaac asto refuse the sacrifice required, is there any of us who would notcondemn him? Joseph, I know your many good qualities, and value you forthem; but, as I am to render an account of your soul, which is committedto my cure, I cannot see any fault without reminding you of it. You aretoo much inclined to passion, child, and have set your affections soabsolutely on this young woman, that, if G-- required her at your hands,I fear you would reluctantly part with her. Now, believe me, noChristian ought so to set his heart on any person or thing in thisworld, but that, whenever it shall be required or taken from him in anymanner by Divine Providence, he may be able, peaceably, quietly, andcontentedly to resign it." At which words one came hastily in, andacquainted Mr Adams that his youngest son was drowned. He stood silent amoment, and soon began to stamp about the room and deplore his loss withthe bitterest agony. Joseph, who was overwhelmed with concern likewise,recovered himself sufficiently to endeavour to comfort the parson; inwhich attempt he used many arguments that he had at several timesremembered out of his own discourses, both in private and public (for hewas a great enemy to the passions, and preached nothing more than theconquest of them by reason and grace), but he was not at leisure now tohearken to his advice. "Child, child," said he, "do not go aboutimpossibilities. Had it been any other of my children I could have borneit with patience; but my little prattler, the darling and comfort of myold age--the little wretch, to be snatched out of life just at hisentrance into it; the sweetest, best-tempered boy, who never did a thingto offend me. It was but this morning I gave him his first lesson in_Que Genus_. This was the very book he learnt; poor child! it is of nofurther use to thee now. He would have made the best scholar, and havebeen an ornament to the Church;--such parts and such goodness never metin one so young." "And the handsomest lad too," says Mrs Adams,recovering from a swoon in Fanny's arms. "My poor Jacky, shall I neversee thee more?" cries the parson. "Yes, surely," says Joseph, "and in abetter place; you will meet again, never to part more." I believe theparson did not hear these words, for he paid little regard to them, butwent on lamenting, whilst the tears trickled down into his bosom. Atlast he cried out, "Where is my little darling?" and was sallying out,when to his great surprize and joy, in which I hope the reader willsympathize, he met his son in a wet condition indeed, but alive andrunning towards him. The person who brought the news of his misfortunehad been a little too eager, as people sometimes are, from, I believe,no very good principle, to relate ill news; and, seeing him fall intothe river, instead of running to his assistance, directly ran toacquaint his father of a fate which he had concluded to be inevitable,but whence the child was relieved by the same poor pedlar who hadrelieved his father before from a less distress. The parson's joy wasnow as extravagant as his grief had been before; he kissed and embracedhis son a thousand times, and danced about the room like one fr
antic;but as soon as he discovered the face of his old friend the pedlar, andheard the fresh obligation he had to him, what were his sensations? notthose which two courtiers feel in one another's embraces; not those withwhich a great man receives the vile treacherous engines of his wickedpurposes, not those with which a worthless younger brother wishes hiselder joy of a son, or a man congratulates his rival on his obtaining amistress, a place, or an honour.--No, reader; he felt the ebullition,the overflowings of a full, honest, open heart, towards the person whohad conferred a real obligation, and of which, if thou canst notconceive an idea within, I will not vainly endeavour to assist thee.
When these tumults were over, the parson, taking Joseph aside, proceededthus--"No, Joseph, do not give too much way to thy passions, if thoudost expect happiness." The patience of Joseph, nor perhaps of Job,could bear no longer; he interrupted the parson, saying, "It was easierto give advice than take it; nor did he perceive he could so entirelyconquer himself, when he apprehended he had lost his son, or when hefound him recovered."--"Boy," replied Adams, raising his voice, "it dothnot become green heads to advise grey hairs.--Thou art ignorant of thetenderness of fatherly affection; when thou art a father thou wilt becapable then only of knowing what a father can feel. No man is obligedto impossibilities; and the loss of a child is one of those great trialswhere our grief may be allowed to become immoderate."--"Well, sir,"cries Joseph, "and if I love a mistress as well as you your child,surely her loss would grieve me equally."--"Yes, but such love isfoolishness and wrong in itself, and ought to be conquered," answeredAdams; "it savours too much of the flesh."--"Sure, sir," says Joseph,"it is not sinful to love my wife, no, not even to doat on her todistraction!"--"Indeed but it is," says Adams. "Every man ought to lovehis wife, no doubt; we are commanded so to do; but we ought to love herwith moderation and discretion."--"I am afraid I shall be guilty of somesin in spite of all my endeavours," says Joseph; "for I shall lovewithout any moderation, I am sure."--"You talk foolishly andchildishly," cries Adams.--"Indeed," says Mrs Adams, who had listened tothe latter part of their conversation, "you talk more foolishly yourself.I hope, my dear, you will never preach any such doctrine as thathusbands can love their wives too well. If I knew you had such a sermonin the house I am sure I would burn it, and I declare, if I had not beenconvinced you had loved me as well as you could, I can answer formyself, I should have hated and despised you. Marry come up! Finedoctrine, indeed! A wife hath a right to insist on her husband's lovingher as much as ever he can; and he is a sinful villain who doth not.Doth he not promise to love her, and to comfort her, and to cherish her,and all that? I am sure I remember it all as well as if I had repeatedit over but yesterday, and shall never forget it. Besides, I am certainyou do not preach as you practise; for you have been a loving and acherishing husband to me; that's the truth on't; and why you shouldendeavour to put such wicked nonsense into this young man's head Icannot devise. Don't hearken to him, Mr Joseph; be as good a husband asyou are able, and love your wife with all your body and soul too." Herea violent rap at the door put an end to their discourse, and produced ascene which the reader will find in the next chapter.
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