The Vicar of Wakefield: A Tale

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W. Whale, 1827 - 252 pages

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Page xix - 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.
Page 58 - TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way To where yon taper cheers the vale With hospitable ray. " For here forlorn and lost I tread, With fainting steps and slow; Where wilds, immeasurably spread, Seem lengthening as I go." " Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, " To tempt the dangerous gloom ; For yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom. " Here to the houseless child of want My door is open still; And though my portion is but scant, I give it with good will.
Page 113 - In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, Whene'er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes ; The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes. And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree.
Page x - ... the law gives us no protection against the injury, so it should give calumniators no shelter after having provoked correction. The insults which we receive before the public, by being more open are the more distressing; by treating them with silent contempt, we do not pay a sufficient deference to the opinion of the world. By recurring to legal redress we too often expose the weakness of the law, which only serves to increase our mortification by failing to relieve us. In short, every man should...
Page 20 - 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.
Page 174 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy ? What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is to die.
Page 60 - But let a maid thy pity share, Whom love has taught to stray ; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair Companion of her way.
Page 60 - And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep; A shade that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep?
Page 85 - you are wrong; he should not have known them at all." "Marry, hang the idiot!" returned she, "to bring me such stuff ; if I had them I would throw them in the fire." " There again you are wrong, my dear...
Page 37 - THE place of our retreat was in a little neighbourhood consisting of farmers, who tilled their own grounds, and were equal strangers to opulence and poverty. As they had almost all the conveniences of life within themselves, they seldom visited towns or cities in search of superfluity. Remote from the polite, they still retained the primeval simplicity of manners ; and, frugal by habit, they scarce knew that temperance was a virtue.

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