History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
in the hall and accosted him thus: “Well, sir, have you heard any news
of your friend since we parted from him?”--“If you mean Mr Allworthy,”
answered Thwackum, “I think you might rather give him the appellation
of your friend; for he seems to me to have deserved that title.”--“The
title is as good on your side,” replied Square, “for his bounty, such
as it is, hath been equal to both.”--“I should not have mentioned it
first,” cries Thwackum, “but since you begin, I must inform you I am
of a different opinion. There is a wide distinction between voluntary
favours and rewards. The duty I have done in his family, and the care
I have taken in the education of his two boys, are services for which
some men might have expected a greater return. I would not have you
imagine I am therefore dissatisfied; for St Paul hath taught me to
be content with the little I have. Had the modicum been less, I
should have known my duty. But though the Scriptures obliges me to
remain contented, it doth not enjoin me to shut my eyes to my own
merit, nor restrain me from seeing when I am injured by an unjust
comparison.”--“Since you provoke me,” returned Square, “that injury is
done to me; nor did I ever imagine Mr Allworthy had held my friendship
so light, as to put me in balance with one who received his wages. I
know to what it is owing; it proceeds from those narrow principles
which you have been so long endeavouring to infuse into him, in
contempt of everything which is great and noble. The beauty and
loveliness of friendship is too strong for dim eyes, nor can it be
perceived by any other medium than that unerring rule of right, which
you have so often endeavoured to ridicule, that you have perverted
your friend's understanding.”--“I wish,” cries Thwackum, in a rage, “I
wish, for the sake of his soul, your damnable doctrines have not
perverted his faith. It is to this I impute his present behaviour, so
unbecoming a Christian. Who but an atheist could think of leaving the
world without having first made up his account? without confessing his
sins, and receiving that absolution which he knew he had one in the
house duly authorized to give him? He will feel the want of these
necessaries when it is too late, when he is arrived at that place
where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth. It is then he will find
in what mighty stead that heathen goddess, that virtue, which you and
all other deists of the age adore, will stand him. He will then summon
his priest, when there is none to be found, and will lament the want
of that absolution, without which no sinner can be safe.”--“If it be
so material,” says Square, “why don't you present it him of your own
accord?” “It hath no virtue,” cries Thwackum, “but to those who have
sufficient grace to require it. But why do I talk thus to a heathen
and an unbeliever? It is you that taught him this lesson, for which
you have been well rewarded in this world, as I doubt not your
disciple will soon be in the other.”--“I know not what you mean by
reward,” said Square; “but if you hint at that pitiful memorial of our
friendship, which he hath thought fit to bequeath me, I despise it;
and nothing but the unfortunate situation of my circumstances should
prevail on me to accept it.”
The physician now arrived, and began to inquire of the two disputants,
how we all did above-stairs? “In a miserable way,” answered Thwackum.
“It is no more than I expected,” cries the doctor: “but pray what
symptoms have appeared since I left you?”--“No good ones, I am
afraid,” replied Thwackum: “after what past at our departure, I think
there were little hopes.” The bodily physician, perhaps, misunderstood
the curer of souls; and before they came to an explanation, Mr Blifil
came to them with a most melancholy countenance, and acquainted them
that he brought sad news, that his mother was dead at Salisbury; that
she had been seized on the road home with the gout in her head and
stomach, which had carried her off in a few hours. “Good-lack-a-day!”
says the doctor. “One cannot answer for events; but I wish I had been
at hand, to have been called in. The gout is a distemper which it is
difficult to treat; yet I have been remarkably successful in it.”
Thwackum and Square both condoled with Mr Blifil for the loss of his
mother, which the one advised him to bear like a man, and the other
like a Christian. The young gentleman said he knew very well we were
all mortal, and he would endeavour to submit to his loss as well as he
could. That he could not, however, help complaining a little against
the peculiar severity of his fate, which brought the news of so great
a calamity to him by surprize, and that at a time when he hourly
expected the severest blow he was capable of feeling from the malice
of fortune. He said, the present occasion would put to the test those
excellent rudiments which he had learnt from Mr Thwackum and Mr
Square; and it would be entirely owing to them, if he was enabled to
survive such misfortunes.
It was now debated whether Mr Allworthy should be informed of the
death of his sister. This the doctor violently opposed; in which, I
believe, the whole college would agree with him: but Mr Blifil said,
he had received such positive and repeated orders from his uncle,
never to keep any secret from him for fear of the disquietude which it
might give him, that he durst not think of disobedience, whatever
might be the consequence. He said, for his part, considering the
religious and philosophic temper of his uncle, he could not agree with
the doctor in his apprehensions. He was therefore resolved to
communicate it to him: for if his uncle recovered (as he heartily
prayed he might) he knew he would never forgive an endeavour to keep a
secret of this kind from him.
The physician was forced to submit to these resolutions, which the two
other learned gentlemen very highly commended. So together moved Mr
Blifil and the doctor toward the sick-room; where the physician first
entered, and approached the bed, in order to feel his patient's pulse,
which he had no sooner done, than he declared he was much better; that
the last application had succeeded to a miracle, and had brought the
fever to intermit: so that, he said, there appeared now to be as
little danger as he had before apprehended there were hopes.
To say the truth, Mr Allworthy's situation had never been so bad as
the great caution of the doctor had represented it: but as a wise
general never despises his enemy, however inferior that enemy's force
may be, so neither doth a wise physician ever despise a distemper,
however inconsiderable. As the former preserves the same strict
discipline, places the same guards, and employs the same scouts,
though the enemy be never so weak; so the latter maintains the same
gravity of countenance, and shakes his head with the same significant
air, let the distemper be never so trifling. And both, among many
other good ones, may assign this solid reason for their conduct, that
by these means the greater glory redounds to them if they gain the
victory, and the less disgrace if by any unlucky accident they should
happen to be conquered.
Mr Allworthy had no sooner lifted up his eyes, and thanked Heaven for
these hopes of his recovery, than Mr Blifil drew near, with a very
dejected aspect, and having applied his handkerchief to his eye,
either to wipe away his tears, or to do as Ovid somewhere expresses
himself on another occasion
_Si nullus erit, tamen excute nullum,_
If there be none, then wipe away that none,
he communicated to his uncle what the reader hath been just before
acquainted with.
Allworthy received the news with concern, with patience, and with
resignation. He dropt a tender tear, then composed his countenance,
and at last cried, “The Lord's will be done in everything.”
He now enquired for the messenger; but Blifil told him it had been
impossible to detain him a moment; for he appeared by the great hurry
he was in to have some business of importance on his hands; that he
complained of being hurried and driven and torn out of his life, and
repeated many times, that if he could divide himself into four
quarters, he knew how to dispose of every one.
Allworthy then desired Blifil to take care of the funeral. He said, he
would have his sister deposited in his own chapel; and as to the
particulars, he left them to his own discretion, only mentioning the
person whom he would have employed on this occasion.
Chapter ix.
Which, among other things, may serve as a comment on that saying of
Aeschines, that “drunkenness shows the mind of a man, as a mirrour
reflects his person.”
The reader may perhaps wonder at hearing nothing of Mr Jones in the
last chapter. In fact, his behaviour was so different from that of the
persons there mentioned, that we chose not to confound his name with
theirs.
When the good man had ended his speech, Jones was the last who
deserted the room. Thence he retired to his own apartment, to give
vent to his concern; but the restlessness of his mind would not suffer
him to remain long there; he slipped softly therefore to Allworthy's
chamber-door, where he listened a considerable time without hearing
any kind of motion within, unless a violent snoring, which at last his
fears misrepresented as groans. This so alarmed him, that he could not
forbear entering the room; where he found the good man in the bed, in
a sweet composed sleep, and his nurse snoring in the above mentioned
hearty manner, at the bed's feet. He immediately took the only method
of silencing this thorough bass, whose music he feared might disturb
Mr Allworthy; and then sitting down by the nurse, he remained
motionless till Blifil and the doctor came in together and waked the
sick man, in order that the doctor might feel his pulse, and that the
other might communicate to him that piece of news, which, had Jones
been apprized of it, would have had great difficulty of finding its
way to Mr Allworthy's ear at such a season.
When he first heard Blifil tell his uncle this story, Jones could
hardly contain the wrath which kindled in him at the other's
indiscretion, especially as the doctor shook his head, and declared
his unwillingness to have the matter mentioned to his patient. But as
his passion did not so far deprive him of all use of his
understanding, as to hide from him the consequences which any violent
expression towards Blifil might have on the sick, this apprehension
stilled his rage at the present; and he grew afterwards so satisfied
with finding that this news had, in fact, produced no mischief, that
he suffered his anger to die in his own bosom, without ever mentioning
it to Blifil.
The physician dined that day at Mr Allworthy's; and having after
dinner visited his patient, he returned to the company, and told them,
that he had now the satisfaction to say, with assurance, that his
patient was out of all danger: that he had brought his fever to a
perfect intermission, and doubted not by throwing in the bark to
prevent its return.
This account so pleased Jones, and threw him into such immoderate
excess of rapture, that he might be truly said to be drunk with
joy--an intoxication which greatly forwards the effects of wine; and
as he was very free too with the bottle on this occasion (for he drank
many bumpers to the doctor's health, as well as to other toasts) he
became very soon literally drunk.
Jones had naturally violent animal spirits: these being set on float
and augmented by the spirit of wine, produced most extravagant
effects. He kissed the doctor, and embraced him with the most
passionate endearments; swearing that next to Mr Allworthy himself, he
loved him of all men living. “Doctor,” added he, “you deserve a statue