Chapter iii.

Containing several dialogues.

The morning in which Mr Jones departed, Mrs Western summoned Sophia

into her apartment; and having first acquainted her that she had

obtained her liberty of her father, she proceeded to read her a long

lecture on the subject of matrimony; which she treated not as a

romantic scheme of happiness arising from love, as it hath been

described by the poets; nor did she mention any of those purposes for

which we are taught by divines to regard it as instituted by sacred

authority; she considered it rather as a fund in which prudent women

deposit their fortunes to the best advantage, in order to receive a

larger interest for them than they could have elsewhere.

When Mrs Western had finished, Sophia answered, “That she was very

incapable of arguing with a lady of her aunt's superior knowledge and

experience, especially on a subject which she had so very little

considered, as this of matrimony.”

“Argue with me, child!” replied the other; “I do not indeed expect it.

I should have seen the world to very little purpose truly, if I am to

argue with one of your years. I have taken this trouble, in order to

instruct you. The antient philosophers, such as Socrates, Alcibiades,

and others, did not use to argue with their scholars. You are to

consider me, child, as Socrates, not asking your opinion, but only

informing you of mine.” From which last words the reader may possibly

imagine, that this lady had read no more of the philosophy of

Socrates, than she had of that of Alcibiades; and indeed we cannot

resolve his curiosity as to this point.

“Madam,” cries Sophia, “I have never presumed to controvert any

opinion of yours; and this subject, as I said, I have never yet

thought of, and perhaps never may.”

“Indeed, Sophy,” replied the aunt, “this dissimulation with me is very

foolish. The French shall as soon persuade me that they take foreign

towns in defence only of their own country, as you can impose on me to

believe you have never yet thought seriously of matrimony. How can

you, child, affect to deny that you have considered of contracting an

alliance, when you so well know I am acquainted with the party with

whom you desire to contract it?--an alliance as unnatural, and

contrary to your interest, as a separate league with the French would

be to the interest of the Dutch! But however, if you have not hitherto

considered of this matter, I promise you it is now high time, for my

brother is resolved immediately to conclude the treaty with Mr Blifil;

and indeed I am a sort of guarantee in the affair, and have promised

your concurrence.”

“Indeed, madam,” cries Sophia, “this is the only instance in which I

must disobey both yourself and my father. For this is a match which

requires very little consideration in me to refuse.”

“If I was not as great a philosopher as Socrates himself,” returned

Mrs Western, “you would overcome my patience. What objection can you

have to the young gentleman?”

“A very solid objection, in my opinion,” says Sophia--“I hate him.”

“Will you never learn a proper use of words?” answered the aunt.

“Indeed, child, you should consult Bailey's Dictionary. It is

impossible you should hate a man from whom you have received no

injury. By hatred, therefore, you mean no more than dislike, which is

no sufficient objection against your marrying of him. I have known

many couples, who have entirely disliked each other, lead very

comfortable genteel lives. Believe me, child, I know these things

better than you. You will allow me, I think, to have seen the world,

in which I have not an acquaintance who would not rather be thought to

dislike her husband than to like him. The contrary is such

out-of-fashion romantic nonsense, that the very imagination of it is

shocking.”

“Indeed, madam,” replied Sophia, “I shall never marry a man I dislike.

If I promise my father never to consent to any marriage contrary to

his inclinations, I think I may hope he will never force me into that

state contrary to my own.”

“Inclinations!” cries the aunt, with some warmth. “Inclinations! I am

astonished at your assurance. A young woman of your age, and

unmarried, to talk of inclinations! But whatever your inclinations may

be, my brother is resolved; nay, since you talk of inclinations, I

shall advise him to hasten the treaty. Inclinations!”

Sophia then flung herself upon her knees, and tears began to trickle

from her shining eyes. She entreated her aunt, “to have mercy upon

her, and not to resent so cruelly her unwillingness to make herself

miserable;” often urging, “that she alone was concerned, and that her

happiness only was at stake.”

As a bailiff, when well authorized by his writ, having possessed

himself of the person of some unhappy debtor, views all his tears

without concern; in vain the wretched captive attempts to raise

compassion; in vain the tender wife bereft of her companion, the

little prattling boy, or frighted girl, are mentioned as inducements

to reluctance. The noble bumtrap, blind and deaf to every circumstance

of distress, greatly rises above all the motives to humanity, and into

the hands of the gaoler resolves to deliver his miserable prey.

Not less blind to the tears, or less deaf to every entreaty of Sophia

was the politic aunt, nor less determined was she to deliver over the

trembling maid into the arms of the gaoler Blifil. She answered with

great impetuosity, “So far, madam, from your being concerned alone,

your concern is the least, or surely the least important. It is the

honour of your family which is concerned in this alliance; you are

only the instrument. Do you conceive, mistress, that in an

intermarriage between kingdoms, as when a daughter of France is

married into Spain, the princess herself is alone considered in the

match? No! it is a match between two kingdoms, rather than between two

persons. The same happens in great families such as ours. The alliance

between the families is the principal matter. You ought to have a

greater regard for the honour of your family than for your own person;

and if the example of a princess cannot inspire you with these noble

thoughts, you cannot surely complain at being used no worse than all

princesses are used.”

“I hope, madam,” cries Sophia, with a little elevation of voice, “I

shall never do anything to dishonour my family; but as for Mr Blifil,

whatever may be the consequence, I am resolved against him, and no

force shall prevail in his favour.”

Western, who had been within hearing during the greater part of the

preceding dialogue, had now exhausted all his patience; he therefore

entered the room in a violent passion, crying, “D--n me then if

shatunt ha'un, d--n me if shatunt, that's all--that's all; d--n me if

shatunt.”

Mrs Western had collected a sufficient quantity of wrath for the use

of Sophia; but she now transferred it all to the squire. “Brother,”

said she, “it is astonishing that you will interfere in a matter

which you had totally left to my negotiation. Regard to my family

hath made me take upon myself to be the mediating power, in order to

rectify those mistakes in policy which you have committed in your

daughter's education. For, brother, it is you--it is your

preposterous conduct which hath eradicated all the seeds that I had

formerly sown in her tender mind. It is you yourself who have taught

her disobedience.”--“Blood!” cries the squire, foaming at the mouth,

“you are enough to conquer the patience of the devil! Have I ever

taught my daughter disobedience?--Here she stands; speak honestly,

girl, did ever I bid you be disobedient to me? Have not I done

everything to humour and to gratify you, and to make you obedient to

me? And very obedient to me she was when a little child, before you

took her in hand and spoiled her, by filling her head with a pack of

court notions. Why--why--why--did I not overhear you telling her she

must behave like a princess? You have made a Whig of the girl; and how

should her father, or anybody else, expect any obedience from

her?”--“Brother,” answered Mrs Western, with an air of great disdain,

“I cannot express the contempt I have for your politics of all kinds;

but I will appeal likewise to the young lady herself, whether I have

ever taught her any principles of disobedience. On the contrary,

niece, have I not endeavoured to inspire you with a true idea of the

several relations in which a human creature stands in society? Have I

not taken infinite pains to show you, that the law of nature hath

enjoined a duty on children to their parents? Have I not told you what

Plato says on that subject?--a subject on which you was so notoriously

ignorant when you came first under my care, that I verily believe you

did not know the relation between a daughter and a father.”--“'Tis a

lie,” answered Western. “The girl is no such fool, as to live to

eleven years old without knowing that she was her father's

relation.”--“O! more than Gothic ignorance,” answered the lady. “And

as for your manners, brother, I must tell you, they deserve a

cane.”--“Why then you may gi' it me, if you think you are able,” cries

the squire; “nay, I suppose your niece there will be ready enough to

help you.”--“Brother,” said Mrs Western, “though I despise you beyond

expression, yet I shall endure your insolence no longer; so I desire

my coach may be got ready immediately, for I am resolved to leave your

house this very morning.”--“And a good riddance too,” answered he; “I

can bear your insolence no longer, an you come to that. Blood! it is

almost enough of itself to make my daughter undervalue my sense, when

she hears you telling me every minute you despise me.”--“It is

impossible, it is impossible,” cries the aunt; “no one can undervalue

such a boor.”--“Boar,” answered the squire, “I am no boar; no, nor

ass; no, nor rat neither, madam. Remember that--I am no rat. I am a

true Englishman, and not of your Hanover breed, that have eat up the

nation.”--“Thou art one of those wise men,” cries she, “whose

nonsensical principles have undone the nation; by weakening the hands

of our government at home, and by discouraging our friends and

encouraging our enemies abroad.”--“Ho! are you come back to your

politics?” cries the squire: “as for those I despise them as much as I

do a f--t.” Which last words he accompanied and graced with the very

action, which, of all others, was the most proper to it. And whether

it was this word or the contempt exprest for her politics, which most

affected Mrs Western, I will not determine; but she flew into the most

violent rage, uttered phrases improper to be here related, and

instantly burst out of the house. Nor did her brother or her niece

think proper either to stop or to follow her; for the one was so much

possessed by concern, and the other by anger, that they were rendered

almost motionless.

The squire, however, sent after his sister the same holloa which

attends the departure of a hare, when she is first started before the

hounds. He was indeed a great master of this kind of vociferation, and

had a holla proper for most occasions in life.

Women who, like Mrs Western, know the world, and have applied

themselves to philosophy and politics, would have immediately availed

themselves of the present disposition of Mr Western's mind, by

throwing in a few artful compliments to his understanding at the

expense of his absent adversary; but poor Sophia was all simplicity.

By which word we do not intend to insinuate to the reader, that she

was silly, which is generally understood as a synonymous term with

simple; for she was indeed a most sensible girl, and her understanding

was of the first rate; but she wanted all that useful art which

females convert to so many good purposes in life, and which, as it

rather arises from the heart than from the head, is often the property

of the silliest of women.