The Vicar of Wakefield | Page 9

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.
The next morning we all set forward together: my family on horseback,
while Mr Burchell, our new companion, walked along the foot-path by
the road-side, observing, with a smile, that as we were ill mounted, he
would be too generous to attempt leaving us behind. As the floods were
not yet subsided, we were obliged to hire a guide, who trotted on before,
Mr Burchell and I bringing up the rear. We lightened the fatigues of the
road with philosophical disputes, which he seemed to understand
perfectly. But what surprised me most was, that though he was a
money- borrower, he defended his opinions with as much obstinacy as
if he had been my patron. He now and then also informed me to whom
the different seats belonged that lay in our view as we travelled the road.
'That,' cried he, pointing to a very magnificent house which stood at
some distance, 'belongs to Mr Thornhill, a young gentleman who
enjoys a large fortune, though entirely dependent on the will of his
uncle, Sir William Thornhill, a gentleman, who content with a little
himself, permits his nephew to enjoy the rest, and chiefly resides in
town.' 'What!' cried I, 'is my young landlord then the nephew of a man
whose virtues, generosity, and singularities are so universally known? I
have heard Sir William Thornhill represented as one of the most

generous, yet whimsical, men in the kingdom; a man of consumate
benevolence'--'Something, perhaps, too much so,' replied Mr Burchell,
'at least he carried benevolence to an excess when young; for his
passions were then strong, and as they all were upon the side of virtue,
they led it up to a romantic extreme. He early began to aim at the
qualifications of the soldier and scholar; was soon distinguished in the
army and had some reputation among men of learning. Adulation ever
follows the ambitious; for such alone receive most pleasure from
flattery. He was surrounded with crowds, who shewed him only one
side of their character; so that he began to lose a regard for private
interest in universal sympathy. He loved all mankind; for fortune
prevented him from knowing that there were rascals. Physicians tell us
of a disorder in which the whole body is so exquisitely sensible, that
the slightest touch gives pain: what some have thus suffered in their
persons, this gentleman felt in his mind. The slightest distress, whether
real or fictitious, touched him to the quick, and his soul laboured under
a sickly sensibility of the miseries of others. Thus disposed to relieve, it
will be easily conjectured, he found numbers disposed to solicit: his
profusions began to impair his fortune, but not his good-nature; that,
indeed, was seen to encrease as the other seemed to decay: he grew
improvident as he grew poor; and though he talked like a man of sense,
his actions were those of a fool. Still, however, being surrounded with
importunity, and no longer able to satisfy every request that was made
him, instead of money he gave promises. They were all he had to
bestow, and he had not resolution enough to give any man pain by a
denial. By this he drew round him crowds of dependants, whom he was
sure to disappoint; yet wished to relieve. These hung upon him for a
time, and left him with merited reproaches and contempt. But in
proportion as he became contemptable to others, he became despicable
to himself. His mind had leaned upon their adulation, and that support
taken away, he could find no pleasure in the applause of his heart,
which he had never learnt to reverence. The world now began to wear a
different aspect; the flattery of his friends began to dwindle into simple
approbation. Approbation soon took the more friendly form of advice,
and advice when rejected produced their reproaches. He now, therefore
found that such friends as benefits had gathered round him, were little
estimable: he now found that a man's own heart must be ever given to

gain that of another. I now found, that--that--I forget what I was going
to observe: in short, sir, he resolved to respect himself, and laid down a
plan of restoring his falling fortune. For this purpose, in his own
whimsical manner he travelled through Europe