History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
obliged to quit the warm chimney-corner, and a cup of excellent
liquor, was somewhat compensated by hearing that he was to proceed no
farther on foot, for Jones, by golden arguments, had prevailed with
the boy to attend him back to the inn whither he had before conducted
Sophia; but to this however the lad consented, upon condition that the
other guide would wait for him at the alehouse; because, as the
landlord at Upton was an intimate acquaintance of the landlord at
Gloucester, it might some time or other come to the ears of the latter
that his horses had been let to more than one person; and so the boy
might be brought to account for money which he wisely intended to put
in his own pocket.
We were obliged to mention this circumstance, trifling as it may seem,
since it retarded Mr Jones a considerable time in his setting out; for
the honesty of this latter boy was somewhat high--that is, somewhat
high-priced, and would indeed have cost Jones very dear, had not
Partridge, who, as we have said, was a very cunning fellow, artfully
thrown in half-a-crown to be spent at that very alehouse, while the
boy was waiting for his companion. This half-crown the landlord no
sooner got scent of, than he opened after it with such vehement and
persuasive outcry, that the boy was soon overcome, and consented to
take half-a-crown more for his stay. Here we cannot help observing,
that as there is so much of policy in the lowest life, great men often
overvalue themselves on those refinements in imposture, in which they
are frequently excelled by some of the lowest of the human species.
The horses being now produced, Jones directly leapt into the
side-saddle, on which his dear Sophia had rid. The lad, indeed, very
civilly offered him the use of his; but he chose the side-saddle,
probably because it was softer. Partridge, however, though full as
effeminate as Jones, could not bear the thoughts of degrading his
manhood; he therefore accepted the boy's offer: and now, Jones being
mounted on the side-saddle of his Sophia, the boy on that of Mrs
Honour, and Partridge bestriding the third horse, they set forwards on
their journey, and within four hours arrived at the inn where the
reader hath already spent so much time. Partridge was in very high
spirits during the whole way, and often mentioned to Jones the many
good omens of his future success which had lately befriended him; and
which the reader, without being the least superstitious, must allow to
have been particularly fortunate. Partridge was moreover better
pleased with the present pursuit of his companion than he had been
with his pursuit of glory; and from these very omens, which assured
the pedagogue of success, he likewise first acquired a clear idea of
the amour between Jones and Sophia; to which he had before given very
little attention, as he had originally taken a wrong scent concerning
the reasons of Jones's departure; and as to what happened at Upton, he
was too much frightened just before and after his leaving that place
to draw any other conclusions from thence than that poor Jones was a
downright madman: a conceit which was not at all disagreeable to the
opinion he before had of his extraordinary wildness, of which, he
thought, his behaviour on their quitting Gloucester so well justified
all the accounts he had formerly received. He was now, however, pretty
well satisfied with his present expedition, and henceforth began to
conceive much worthier sentiments of his friend's understanding.
The clock had just struck three when they arrived, and Jones
immediately bespoke post-horses; but unluckily there was not a horse
to be procured in the whole place; which the reader will not wonder at
when he considers the hurry in which the whole nation, and especially
this part of it, was at this time engaged, when expresses were passing
and repassing every hour of the day and night.
Jones endeavoured all he could to prevail with his former guide to
escorte him to Coventry; but he was inexorable. While he was arguing
with the boy in the inn-yard, a person came up to him, and saluting
him by his name, enquired how all the good family did in
Somersetshire; and now Jones casting his eyes upon this person,
presently discovered him to be Mr Dowling, the lawyer, with whom he
had dined at Gloucester, and with much courtesy returned the
salutation.
Dowling very earnestly pressed Mr Jones to go no further that night;
and backed his solicitations with many unanswerable arguments, such
as, that it was almost dark, that the roads were very dirty, and that
he would be able to travel much better by day-light, with many others
equally good, some of which Jones had probably suggested to himself
before; but as they were then ineffectual, so they were still: and he
continued resolute in his design, even though he should be obliged to
set out on foot.
When the good attorney found he could not prevail on Jones to stay, he
as strenuously applied himself to persuade the guide to accompany him.
He urged many motives to induce him to undertake this short journey,
and at last concluded with saying, “Do you think the gentleman won't
very well reward you for your trouble?”
Two to one are odds at every other thing as well as at foot-ball. But
the advantage which this united force hath in persuasion or entreaty
must have been visible to a curious observer; for he must have often
seen, that when a father, a master, a wife, or any other person in
authority, have stoutly adhered to a denial against all the reasons
which a single man could produce, they have afterwards yielded to the
repetition of the same sentiments by a second or third person, who
hath undertaken the cause, without attempting to advance anything new
in its behalf. And hence, perhaps, proceeds the phrase of seconding an
argument or a motion, and the great consequence this is of in all
assemblies of public debate. Hence, likewise, probably it is, that in
our courts of law we often hear a learned gentleman (generally a
serjeant) repeating for an hour together what another learned
gentleman, who spoke just before him, had been saying.
Instead of accounting for this, we shall proceed in our usual manner
to exemplify it in the conduct of the lad above mentioned, who
submitted to the persuasions of Mr Dowling, and promised once more to
admit Jones into his side-saddle; but insisted on first giving the
poor creatures a good bait, saying, they had travelled a great way,
and been rid very hard. Indeed this caution of the boy was needless;
for Jones, notwithstanding his hurry and impatience, would have
ordered this of himself; for he by no means agreed with the opinion of
those who consider animals as mere machines, and when they bury their
spurs in the belly of their horse, imagine the spur and the horse to
have an equal capacity of feeling pain.
While the beasts were eating their corn, or rather were supposed to
eat it (for, as the boy was taking care of himself in the kitchen, the
ostler took great care that his corn should not be consumed in the
stable), Mr Jones, at the earnest desire of Mr Dowling, accompanied
that gentleman into his room, where they sat down together over a
bottle of wine.
Chapter x.
In which Mr Jones and Mr Dowling drink a bottle together.
Mr Dowling, pouring out a glass of wine, named the health of the good
Squire Allworthy; adding, “If you please, sir, we will likewise
remember his nephew and heir, the young squire: Come, sir, here's Mr
Blifil to you, a very pretty young gentleman; and who, I dare swear,
will hereafter make a very considerable figure in his country. I have
a borough for him myself in my eye.”
“Sir,” answered Jones, “I am convinced you don't intend to affront me,
so I shall not resent it; but I promise you, you have joined two
persons very improperly together; for one is the glory of the human
species, and the other is a rascal who dishonours the name of man.”
Dowling stared at this. He said, “He thought both the gentlemen had a
very unexceptionable character. As for Squire Allworthy himself,” says
he, “I never had the happiness to see him; but all the world talks of
his goodness. And, indeed, as to the young gentleman, I never saw him
but once, when I carried him the news of the loss of his mother; and
then I was so hurried, and drove, and tore with the multiplicity of
business, that I had hardly time to converse with him; but he looked
so like a very honest gentleman, and behaved himself so prettily, that
I protest I never was more delighted with any gentleman since I was
born.”
“I don't wonder,” answered Jones, “that he should impose upon you in
so short an acquaintance; for he hath the cunning of the devil
himself, and you may live with him many years, without discovering
him. I was bred up with him from my infancy, and we were hardly ever
asunder; but it is very lately only that I have discovered half the
villany which is in him. I own I never greatly liked him. I thought he
wanted that generosity of spirit, which is the sure foundation of all
that is great and noble in human nature. I saw a selfishness in him
long ago which I despised; but it is lately, very lately, that I have
found him capable of the basest and blackest designs; for, indeed, I
have at last found out, that he hath taken an advantage of the
openness of my own temper, and hath concerted the deepest project, by
a long train of wicked artifice, to work my ruin, which at last he
hath effected.”
“Ay! ay!” cries Dowling; “I protest, then, it is a pity such a person
should inherit the great estate of your uncle Allworthy.”
“Alas, sir,” cries Jones, “you do me an honour to which I have no
title. It is true, indeed, his goodness once allowed me the liberty of
calling him by a much nearer name; but as this was only a voluntary
act of goodness, I can complain of no injustice when he thinks proper
to deprive me of this honour; since the loss cannot be more unmerited
than the gift originally was. I assure you, sir, I am no relation of
Mr Allworthy; and if the world, who are incapable of setting a true
value on his virtue, should think, in his behaviour to me, he hath
dealt hardly by a relation, they do an injustice to the best of men:
for I--but I ask your pardon, I shall trouble you with no particulars
relating to myself; only as you seemed to think me a relation of Mr
Allworthy, I thought proper to set you right in a matter that might
draw some censures upon him, which I promise you I would rather lose
my life than give occasion to.”
“I protest, sir,” cried Dowling, “you talk very much like a man of
honour; but instead of giving me any trouble, I protest it would give
me great pleasure to know how you came to be thought a relation of Mr
Allworthy's, if you are not. Your horses won't be ready this
half-hour, and as you have sufficient opportunity, I wish you would
tell me how all that happened; for I protest it seems very surprizing
that you should pass for a relation of a gentleman, without being so.”
Jones, who in the compliance of his disposition (though not in his
prudence) a little resembled his lovely Sophia, was easily prevailed
on to satisfy Mr Dowling's curiosity, by relating the history of his
birth and education, which he did, like Othello.
------Even from his boyish years,
To th' very moment he was bad to tell:
the which to hear, Dowling, like Desdemona, did seriously incline;
He swore 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange;
'Twas pitiful, 'twas wonderous pitiful.
Mr Dowling was indeed very greatly affected with this relation; for he
had not divested himself of humanity by being an attorney. Indeed,
nothing is more unjust than to carry our prejudices against a
profession into private life, and to borrow our idea of a man from our