TOM JONES
PART 6
Chapter vii. — In which the author himself makes his appearance on the stage.
Though Mr
Allworthy was not of himself hasty to see things in a disadvantageous light,
and was a stranger to the public voice, which seldom reaches to a brother or a
husband, though it rings in the ears of all the neighbourhood; yet was this
affection of Mrs Blifil to Tom, and the preference which she too visibly gave
him to her own son, of the utmost disadvantage to that youth.
For such
was the compassion which inhabited Mr Allworthy’s mind, that nothing but the
steel of justice could ever subdue it. To be unfortunate in any respect was
sufficient, if there was no demerit to counterpoise it, to turn the scale of
that good man’s pity, and to engage his friendship and his benefaction.
When
therefore he plainly saw Master Blifil was absolutely detested (for that he
was) by his own mother, he began, on that account only, to look with an eye of
compassion upon him; and what the effects of compassion are, in good and
benevolent minds, I need not here explain to most of my readers.
Henceforward
he saw every appearance of virtue in the youth through the magnifying end, and
viewed all his faults with the glass inverted, so that they became scarce
perceptible. And this perhaps the amiable temper of pity may make commendable;
but the next step the weakness of human nature alone must excuse; for he no
sooner perceived that preference which Mrs Blifil gave to Tom, than that poor
youth (however innocent) began to sink in his affections as he rose in hers.
This, it is true, would of itself alone never have been able to eradicate Jones
from his bosom; but it was greatly injurious to him, and prepared Mr
Allworthy’s mind for those impressions which afterwards produced the mighty
events that will be contained hereafter in this history; and to which, it must
be confest, the unfortunate lad, by his own wantonness, wildness, and want of
caution, too much contributed.
In
recording some instances of these, we shall, if rightly understood, afford a
very useful lesson to those well-disposed youths who shall hereafter be our
readers; for they may here find, that goodness of heart, and openness of
temper, though these may give them great comfort within, and administer to an
honest pride in their own minds, will by no means, alas! do their business in
the world. Prudence and circumspection are necessary even to the best of men.
They are indeed, as it were, a guard to Virtue, without which she can never be
safe. It is not enough that your designs, nay, that your actions, are
intrinsically good; you must take care they shall appear so. If your inside be
never so beautiful, you must preserve a fair outside also. This must be
constantly looked to, or malice and envy will take care to blacken it so, that
the sagacity and goodness of an Allworthy will not be able to see through it,
and to discern the beauties within. Let this, my young readers, be your
constant maxim, that no man can be good enough to enable him to neglect the
rules of prudence; nor will Virtue herself look beautiful, unless she be
bedecked with the outward ornaments of decency and decorum. And this precept,
my worthy disciples, if you read with due attention, you will, I hope, find
sufficiently enforced by examples in the following pages.
I ask
pardon for this short appearance, by way of chorus, on the stage. It is in
reality for my own sake, that, while I am discovering the rocks on which
innocence and goodness often split, I may not be misunderstood to recommend the
very means to my worthy readers, by which I intend to show them they will be
undone. And this, as I could not prevail on any of my actors to speak, I myself
was obliged to declare.
Chapter viii. — A childish incident, in which, however, is seen a good-natured disposition in Tom Jones.
The reader
may remember that Mr Allworthy gave Tom Jones a little horse, as a kind of
smart-money for the punishment which he imagined he had suffered innocently.
This horse
Tom kept above half a year, and then rode him to a neighbouring fair, and sold
him.
At his
return, being questioned by Thwackum what he had done with the money for which
the horse was sold, he frankly declared he would not tell him.
“Oho!”
says Thwackum, “you will not! then I will have it out of your br—h;” that being
the place to which he always applied for information on every doubtful
occasion.
Tom was
now mounted on the back of a footman, and everything prepared for execution,
when Mr Allworthy, entering the room, gave the criminal a reprieve, and took
him with him into another apartment; where, being alone with Tom, he put the
same question to him which Thwackum had before asked him.
Tom
answered, he could in duty refuse him nothing; but as for that tyrannical
rascal, he would never make him any other answer than with a cudgel, with which
he hoped soon to be able to pay him for all his barbarities.
Mr
Allworthy very severely reprimanded the lad for his indecent and disrespectful
expressions concerning his master; but much more for his avowing an intention
of revenge. He threatened him with the entire loss of his favour, if he ever
heard such another word from his mouth; for, he said, he would never support or
befriend a reprobate. By these and the like declarations, he extorted some
compunction from Tom, in which that youth was not over-sincere; for he really
meditated some return for all the smarting favours he had received at the hands
of the pedagogue. He was, however, brought by Mr Allworthy to express a concern
for his resentment against Thwackum; and then the good man, after some
wholesome admonition, permitted him to proceed, which he did as follows:—
“Indeed,
my dear sir, I love and honour you more than all the world: I know the great
obligations I have to you, and should detest myself if I thought my heart was
capable of ingratitude. Could the little horse you gave me speak, I am sure he
could tell you how fond I was of your present; for I had more pleasure in
feeding him than in riding him. Indeed, sir, it went to my heart to part with
him; nor would I have sold him upon any other account in the world than what I
did. You yourself, sir, I am convinced, in my case, would have done the same:
for none ever so sensibly felt the misfortunes of others. What would you feel,
dear sir, if you thought yourself the occasion of them? Indeed, sir, there
never was any misery like theirs.”
“Like
whose, child?” says Allworthy: “What do you mean?”
“Oh, sir!”
answered Tom, “your poor gamekeeper, with all his large family, ever since your
discarding him, have been perishing with all the miseries of cold and hunger: I
could not bear to see these poor wretches naked and starving, and at the same
time know myself to have been the occasion of all their sufferings. I could not
bear it, sir; upon my soul, I could not.” [Here the tears ran down his cheeks,
and he thus proceeded.] “It was to save them from absolute destruction I parted
with your dear present, notwithstanding all the value I had for it: I sold the
horse for them, and they have every farthing of the money.”
Mr
Allworthy now stood silent for some moments, and before he spoke the tears
started from his eyes. He at length dismissed Tom with a gentle rebuke,
advising him for the future to apply to him in cases of distress, rather than
to use extraordinary means of relieving them himself.
This
affair was afterwards the subject of much debate between Thwackum and Square.
Thwackum held, that this was flying in Mr Allworthy’s face, who had intended to
punish the fellow for his disobedience. He said, in some instances, what the
world called charity appeared to him to be opposing the will of the Almighty,
which had marked some particular persons for destruction; and that this was in
like manner acting in opposition to Mr Allworthy; concluding, as usual, with a
hearty recommendation of birch.
Square
argued strongly on the other side, in opposition perhaps to Thwackum, or in
compliance with Mr Allworthy, who seemed very much to approve what Jones had
done. As to what he urged on this occasion, as I am convinced most of my
readers will be much abler advocates for poor Jones, it would be impertinent to
relate it. Indeed it was not difficult to reconcile to the rule of right an
action which it would have been impossible to deduce from the rule of wrong.
Chapter ix. — Containing an incident of a more heinous kind, with the comments of Thwackum and Square.
It hath
been observed by some man of much greater reputation for wisdom than myself,
that misfortunes seldom come single. An instance of this may, I believe, be
seen in those gentlemen who have the misfortune to have any of their rogueries
detected; for here discovery seldom stops till the whole is come out. Thus it
happened to poor Tom; who was no sooner pardoned for selling the horse, than he
was discovered to have some time before sold a fine Bible which Mr Allworthy
gave him, the money arising from which sale he had disposed of in the same
manner. This Bible Master Blifil had purchased, though he had already such
another of his own, partly out of respect for the book, and partly out of
friendship to Tom, being unwilling that the Bible should be sold out of the
family at half-price. He therefore deposited the said half-price himself; for
he was a very prudent lad, and so careful of his money, that he had laid up
almost every penny which he had received from Mr Allworthy.
Some
people have been noted to be able to read in no book but their own. On the
contrary, from the time when Master Blifil was first possessed of this Bible,
he never used any other. Nay, he was seen reading in it much oftener than he
had before been in his own. Now, as he frequently asked Thwackum to explain
difficult passages to him, that gentleman unfortunately took notice of Tom’s
name, which was written in many parts of the book. This brought on an inquiry,
which obliged Master Blifil to discover the whole matter.
Thwackum
was resolved a crime of this kind, which he called sacrilege, should not go
unpunished. He therefore proceeded immediately to castigation: and not
contented with that he acquainted Mr Allworthy, at their next meeting, with
this monstrous crime, as it appeared to him: inveighing against Tom in the most
bitter terms, and likening him to the buyers and sellers who were driven out of
the temple.
Square saw
this matter in a very different light. He said, he could not perceive any
higher crime in selling one book than in selling another. That to sell Bibles
was strictly lawful by all laws both Divine and human, and consequently there
was no unfitness in it. He told Thwackum, that his great concern on this
occasion brought to his mind the story of a very devout woman, who, out of pure
regard to religion, stole Tillotson’s Sermons from a lady of her acquaintance.
This story
caused a vast quantity of blood to rush into the parson’s face, which of itself
was none of the palest; and he was going to reply with great warmth and anger,
had not Mrs Blifil, who was present at this debate, interposed. That lady
declared herself absolutely of Mr Square’s side. She argued, indeed, very
learnedly in support of his opinion; and concluded with saying, if Tom had been
guilty of any fault, she must confess her own son appeared to be equally
culpable; for that she could see no difference between the buyer and the
seller; both of whom were alike to be driven out of the temple.
Mrs Blifil
having declared her opinion, put an end to the debate. Square’s triumph would
almost have stopt his words, had he needed them; and Thwackum, who, for reasons
before-mentioned, durst not venture at disobliging the lady, was almost choaked
with indignation. As to Mr Allworthy, he said, since the boy had been already
punished he would not deliver his sentiments on the occasion; and whether he
was or was not angry with the lad, I must leave to the reader’s own conjecture.
Soon after
this, an action was brought against the gamekeeper by Squire Western (the
gentleman in whose manor the partridge was killed), for depredations of the
like kind. This was a most unfortunate circumstance for the fellow, as it not
only of itself threatened his ruin, but actually prevented Mr Allworthy from
restoring him to his favour: for as that gentleman was walking out one evening
with Master Blifil and young Jones, the latter slily drew him to the habitation
of Black George; where the family of that poor wretch, namely, his wife and
children, were found in all the misery with which cold, hunger, and nakedness,
can affect human creatures: for as to the money they had received from Jones,
former debts had consumed almost the whole.
Such a
scene as this could not fail of affecting the heart of Mr Allworthy. He
immediately gave the mother a couple of guineas, with which he bid her cloath
her children. The poor woman burst into tears at this goodness, and while she
was thanking him, could not refrain from expressing her gratitude to Tom; who
had, she said, long preserved both her and hers from starving. “We have not,”
says she, “had a morsel to eat, nor have these poor children had a rag to put
on, but what his goodness hath bestowed on us.” For, indeed, besides the horse
and the Bible, Tom had sacrificed a night-gown, and other things, to the use of
this distressed family.
On their
return home, Tom made use of all his eloquence to display the wretchedness of
these people, and the penitence of Black George himself; and in this he
succeeded so well, that Mr Allworthy said, he thought the man had suffered
enough for what was past; that he would forgive him, and think of some means of
providing for him and his family.
Jones was
so delighted with this news, that, though it was dark when they returned home,
he could not help going back a mile, in a shower of rain, to acquaint the poor
woman with the glad tidings; but, like other hasty divulgers of news, he only
brought on himself the trouble of contradicting it: for the ill fortune of
Black George made use of the very opportunity of his friend’s absence to
overturn all again.
Chapter x. — In which Master Blifil and Jones appear in different lights.
Master
Blifil fell very short of his companion in the amiable quality of mercy; but he
as greatly exceeded him in one of a much higher kind, namely, in justice: in
which he followed both the precepts and example of Thwackum and Square; for
though they would both make frequent use of the word mercy, yet it was plain
that in reality Square held it to be inconsistent with the rule of right; and
Thwackum was for doing justice, and leaving mercy to heaven. The two gentlemen
did indeed somewhat differ in opinion concerning the objects of this sublime
virtue; by which Thwackum would probably have destroyed one half of mankind,
and Square the other half.
Master
Blifil then, though he had kept silence in the presence of Jones, yet, when he
had better considered the matter, could by no means endure the thought of
suffering his uncle to confer favours on the undeserving. He therefore resolved
immediately to acquaint him with the fact which we have above slightly hinted
to the readers. The truth of which was as follows:
The
gamekeeper, about a year after he was dismissed from Mr Allworthy’s service,
and before Tom’s selling the horse, being in want of bread, either to fill his
own mouth or those of his family, as he passed through a field belonging to Mr
Western espied a hare sitting in her form. This hare he had basely and
barbarously knocked on the head, against the laws of the land, and no less
against the laws of sportsmen.
The
higgler to whom the hare was sold, being unfortunately taken many months after
with a quantity of game upon him, was obliged to make his peace with the
squire, by becoming evidence against some poacher. And now Black George was
pitched upon by him, as being a person already obnoxious to Mr Western, and one
of no good fame in the country. He was, besides, the best sacrifice the higgler
could make, as he had supplied him with no game since; and by this means the
witness had an opportunity of screening his better customers: for the squire,
being charmed with the power of punishing Black George, whom a single
transgression was sufficient to ruin, made no further enquiry.
Had this
fact been truly laid before Mr Allworthy, it might probably have done the
gamekeeper very little mischief. But there is no zeal blinder than that which
is inspired with the love of justice against offenders. Master Blifil had
forgot the distance of the time. He varied likewise in the manner of the fact:
and by the hasty addition of the single letter S he considerably altered the
story; for he said that George had wired hares. These alterations might
probably have been set right, had not Master Blifil unluckily insisted on a
promise of secrecy from Mr Allworthy before he revealed the matter to him; but
by that means the poor gamekeeper was condemned without having an opportunity
to defend himself: for as the fact of killing the hare, and of the action
brought, were certainly true, Mr Allworthy had no doubt concerning the rest.
Short-lived
then was the joy of these poor people; for Mr Allworthy the next morning
declared he had fresh reason, without assigning it, for his anger, and strictly
forbad Tom to mention George any more: though as for his family, he said he
would endeavour to keep them from starving; but as to the fellow himself, he
would leave him to the laws, which nothing could keep him from breaking.
Tom could
by no means divine what had incensed Mr Allworthy, for of Master Blifil he had
not the least suspicion. However, as his friendship was to be tired out by no
disappointments, he now determined to try another method of preserving the poor
gamekeeper from ruin.
Jones was
lately grown very intimate with Mr Western. He had so greatly recommended
himself to that gentleman, by leaping over five-barred gates, and by other acts
of sportsmanship, that the squire had declared Tom would certainly make a great
man if he had but sufficient encouragement. He often wished he had himself a
son with such parts; and one day very solemnly asserted at a drinking bout,
that Tom should hunt a pack of hounds for a thousand pound of his money, with
any huntsman in the whole country.
By such
kind of talents he had so ingratiated himself with the squire, that he was a
most welcome guest at his table, and a favourite companion in his sport:
everything which the squire held most dear, to wit, his guns, dogs, and horses,
were now as much at the command of Jones, as if they had been his own. He
resolved therefore to make use of this favour on behalf of his friend Black
George, whom he hoped to introduce into Mr Western’s family, in the same
capacity in which he had before served Mr Allworthy.
The
reader, if he considers that this fellow was already obnoxious to Mr Western,
and if he considers farther the weighty business by which that gentleman’s
displeasure had been incurred, will perhaps condemn this as a foolish and
desperate undertaking; but if he should totally condemn young Jones on that
account, he will greatly applaud him for strengthening himself with all
imaginable interest on so arduous an occasion.
For this
purpose, then, Tom applied to Mr Western’s daughter, a young lady of about seventeen
years of age, whom her father, next after those necessary implements of sport
just before mentioned, loved and esteemed above all the world. Now, as she had
some influence on the squire, so Tom had some little influence on her. But this
being the intended heroine of this work, a lady with whom we ourselves are
greatly in love, and with whom many of our readers will probably be in love
too, before we part, it is by no means proper she should make her appearance at
the end of a book.
To be continued
