Chapter xii.

Containing what the reader may, perhaps, expect to find in it.

In all bargains, whether to fight or to marry, or concerning any other

such business, little previous ceremony is required to bring the

matter to an issue when both parties are really in earnest. This was

the case at present, and in less than a month the captain and his lady

were man and wife.

The great concern now was to break the matter to Mr Allworthy; and

this was undertaken by the doctor.

One day, then, as Allworthy was walking in his garden, the doctor came

to him, and, with great gravity of aspect, and all the concern which

he could possibly affect in his countenance, said, “I am come, sir, to

impart an affair to you of the utmost consequence; but how shall I

mention to you what it almost distracts me to think of!” He then

launched forth into the most bitter invectives both against men and

women; accusing the former of having no attachment but to their

interest, and the latter of being so addicted to vicious inclinations

that they could never be safely trusted with one of the other sex.

“Could I,” said he, “sir, have suspected that a lady of such prudence,

such judgment, such learning, should indulge so indiscreet a passion!

or could I have imagined that my brother--why do I call him so? he is

no longer a brother of mine----”

“Indeed but he is,” said Allworthy, “and a brother of mine too.”

“Bless me, sir!” said the doctor, “do you know the shocking affair?”

“Look'ee, Mr Blifil,” answered the good man, “it hath been my constant

maxim in life to make the best of all matters which happen. My sister,

though many years younger than I, is at least old enough to be at the

age of discretion. Had he imposed on a child, I should have been more

averse to have forgiven him; but a woman upwards of thirty must

certainly be supposed to know what will make her most happy. She hath

married a gentleman, though perhaps not quite her equal in fortune;

and if he hath any perfections in her eye which can make up that

deficiency, I see no reason why I should object to her choice of her

own happiness; which I, no more than herself, imagine to consist only

in immense wealth. I might, perhaps, from the many declarations I have

made of complying with almost any proposal, have expected to have been

consulted on this occasion; but these matters are of a very delicate

nature, and the scruples of modesty, perhaps, are not to be overcome.

As to your brother, I have really no anger against him at all. He hath

no obligations to me, nor do I think he was under any necessity of

asking my consent, since the woman is, as I have said, _sui juris_,

and of a proper age to be entirely answerable only, to herself for her

conduct.”

The doctor accused Mr Allworthy of too great lenity, repeated his

accusations against his brother, and declared that he should never

more be brought either to see, or to own him for his relation. He then

launched forth into a panegyric on Allworthy's goodness; into the

highest encomiums on his friendship; and concluded by saying, he

should never forgive his brother for having put the place which he

bore in that friendship to a hazard.

Allworthy thus answered: “Had I conceived any displeasure against your

brother, I should never have carried that resentment to the innocent:

but I assure you I have no such displeasure. Your brother appears to

me to be a man of sense and honour. I do not disapprove the taste of

my sister; nor will I doubt but that she is equally the object of his

inclinations. I have always thought love the only foundation of

happiness in a married state, as it can only produce that high and

tender friendship which should always be the cement of this union;

and, in my opinion, all those marriages which are contracted from

other motives are greatly criminal; they are a profanation of a most

holy ceremony, and generally end in disquiet and misery: for surely we

may call it a profanation to convert this most sacred institution into

a wicked sacrifice to lust or avarice: and what better can be said of

those matches to which men are induced merely by the consideration of

a beautiful person, or a great fortune?

“To deny that beauty is an agreeable object to the eye, and even

worthy some admiration, would be false and foolish. Beautiful is an

epithet often used in Scripture, and always mentioned with honour. It

was my own fortune to marry a woman whom the world thought handsome,

and I can truly say I liked her the better on that account. But to

make this the sole consideration of marriage, to lust after it so

violently as to overlook all imperfections for its sake, or to require

it so absolutely as to reject and disdain religion, virtue, and sense,

which are qualities in their nature of much higher perfection, only

because an elegance of person is wanting: this is surely inconsistent,

either with a wise man or a good Christian. And it is, perhaps, being

too charitable to conclude that such persons mean anything more by

their marriage than to please their carnal appetites; for the

satisfaction of which, we are taught, it was not ordained.

“In the next place, with respect to fortune. Worldly prudence,

perhaps, exacts some consideration on this head; nor will I absolutely

and altogether condemn it. As the world is constituted, the demands of

a married state, and the care of posterity, require some little regard

to what we call circumstances. Yet this provision is greatly

increased, beyond what is really necessary, by folly and vanity, which

create abundantly more wants than nature. Equipage for the wife, and

large fortunes for the children, are by custom enrolled in the list of

necessaries; and to procure these, everything truly solid and sweet,

and virtuous and religious, are neglected and overlooked.

“And this in many degrees; the last and greatest of which seems scarce

distinguishable from madness;--I mean where persons of immense

fortunes contract themselves to those who are, and must be,

disagreeable to them--to fools and knaves--in order to increase an

estate already larger even than the demands of their pleasures. Surely

such persons, if they will not be thought mad, must own, either that

they are incapable of tasting the sweets of the tenderest friendship,

or that they sacrifice the greatest happiness of which they are

capable to the vain, uncertain, and senseless laws of vulgar opinion,

which owe as well their force as their foundation to folly.”

Here Allworthy concluded his sermon, to which Blifil had listened with

the profoundest attention, though it cost him some pains to prevent

now and then a small discomposure of his muscles. He now praised every

period of what he had heard with the warmth of a young divine, who

hath the honour to dine with a bishop the same day in which his

lordship hath mounted the pulpit.