History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
extorted from my poor generous father, on pretences of sums being
necessary for preparing for my approaching degree of batchelor of
arts. These demands, however, grew at last so frequent and exorbitant,
that my father by slow degrees opened his ears to the accounts which
he received from many quarters of my present behaviour, and which my
mother failed not to echo very faithfully and loudly; adding, `Ay,
this is the fine gentleman, the scholar who doth so much honour to his
family, and is to be the making of it. I thought what all this
learning would come to. He is to be the ruin of us all, I find, after
his elder brother hath been denied necessaries for his sake, to
perfect his education forsooth, for which he was to pay us such
interest: I thought what the interest would come to,' with much more
of the same kind; but I have, I believe, satisfied you with this
taste.
“My father, therefore, began now to return remonstrances instead of
money to my demands, which brought my affairs perhaps a little sooner
to a crisis; but had he remitted me his whole income, you will imagine
it could have sufficed a very short time to support one who kept pace
with the expenses of Sir George Gresham.
“It is more than possible that the distress I was now in for money,
and the impracticability of going on in this manner, might have
restored me at once to my senses and to my studies, had I opened my
eyes before I became involved in debts from which I saw no hopes of
ever extricating myself. This was indeed the great art of Sir George,
and by which he accomplished the ruin of many, whom he afterwards
laughed at as fools and coxcombs, for vying, as he called it, with a
man of his fortune. To bring this about, he would now and then advance
a little money himself, in order to support the credit of the
unfortunate youth with other people; till, by means of that very
credit, he was irretrievably undone.
“My mind being by these means grown as desperate as my fortune, there
was scarce a wickedness which I did not meditate, in order for my
relief. Self-murder itself became the subject of my serious
deliberation; and I had certainly resolved on it, had not a more
shameful, though perhaps less sinful, thought expelled it from my
head.”--Here he hesitated a moment, and then cried out, “I protest, so
many years have not washed away the shame of this act, and I shall
blush while I relate it.” Jones desired him to pass over anything that
might give him pain in the relation; but Partridge eagerly cried out,
“Oh, pray, sir, let us hear this; I had rather hear this than all the
rest; as I hope to be saved, I will never mention a word of it.” Jones
was going to rebuke him, but the stranger prevented it by proceeding
thus: “I had a chum, a very prudent, frugal young lad, who, though he
had no very large allowance, had by his parsimony heaped up upwards of
forty guineas, which I knew he kept in his escritore. I took therefore
an opportunity of purloining his key from his breeches-pocket, while
he was asleep, and thus made myself master of all his riches: after
which I again conveyed his key into his pocket, and counterfeiting
sleep--though I never once closed my eyes, lay in bed till after he
arose and went to prayers--an exercise to which I had long been
unaccustomed.
“Timorous thieves, by extreme caution, often subject themselves to
discoveries, which those of a bolder kind escape. Thus it happened to
me; for had I boldly broke open his escritore, I had, perhaps, escaped
even his suspicion; but as it was plain that the person who robbed him
had possessed himself of his key, he had no doubt, when he first
missed his money, but that his chum was certainly the thief. Now as he
was of a fearful disposition, and much my inferior in strength, and I
believe in courage, he did not dare to confront me with my guilt, for
fear of worse bodily consequences which might happen to him. He
repaired therefore immediately to the vice-chancellor, and upon
swearing to the robbery, and to the circumstances of it, very easily
obtained a warrant against one who had now so bad a character through
the whole university.
“Luckily for me, I lay out of the college the next evening; for that
day I attended a young lady in a chaise to Witney, where we staid all
night, and in our return, the next morning, to Oxford, I met one of my
cronies, who acquainted me with sufficient news concerning myself to
make me turn my horse another way.”
“Pray, sir, did he mention anything of the warrant?” said Partridge.
But Jones begged the gentleman to proceed without regarding any
impertinent questions; which he did as follows:--
“Having now abandoned all thoughts of returning to Oxford, the next
thing which offered itself was a journey to London. I imparted this
intention to my female companion, who at first remonstrated against
it; but upon producing my wealth, she immediately consented. We then
struck across the country, into the great Cirencester road, and made
such haste, that we spent the next evening, save one, in London.
“When you consider the place where I now was, and the company with
whom I was, you will, I fancy, conceive that a very short time brought
me to an end of that sum of which I had so iniquitously possessed
myself.
“I was now reduced to a much higher degree of distress than before:
the necessaries of life began to be numbered among my wants; and what
made my case still the more grievous was, that my paramour, of whom I
was now grown immoderately fond, shared the same distresses with
myself. To see a woman you love in distress; to be unable to relieve
her, and at the same time to reflect that you have brought her into
this situation, is perhaps a curse of which no imagination can
represent the horrors to those who have not felt it.”--“I believe it
from my soul,” cries Jones, “and I pity you from the bottom of my
heart:” he then took two or three disorderly turns about the room, and
at last begged pardon, and flung himself into his chair, crying, “I
thank Heaven, I have escaped that!”
“This circumstance,” continued the gentleman, “so severely aggravated
the horrors of my present situation, that they became absolutely
intolerable. I could with less pain endure the raging in my own
natural unsatisfied appetites, even hunger or thirst, than I could
submit to leave ungratified the most whimsical desires of a woman on
whom I so extravagantly doated, that, though I knew she had been the
mistress of half my acquaintance, I firmly intended to marry her. But
the good creature was unwilling to consent to an action which the
world might think so much to my disadvantage. And as, possibly, she
compassionated the daily anxieties which she must have perceived me
suffer on her account, she resolved to put an end to my distress. She
soon, indeed, found means to relieve me from my troublesome and
perplexed situation; for while I was distracted with various
inventions to supply her with pleasures, she very kindly--betrayed me
to one of her former lovers at Oxford, by whose care and diligence I
was immediately apprehended and committed to gaol.
“Here I first began seriously to reflect on the miscarriages of my
former life; on the errors I had been guilty of; on the misfortunes
which I had brought on myself; and on the grief which I must have
occasioned to one of the best of fathers. When I added to all these
the perfidy of my mistress, such was the horror of my mind, that life,
instead of being longer desirable, grew the object of my abhorrence;
and I could have gladly embraced death as my dearest friend, if it had
offered itself to my choice unattended by shame.
“The time of the assizes soon came, and I was removed by habeas corpus
to Oxford, where I expected certain conviction and condemnation; but,
to my great surprize, none appeared against me, and I was, at the end
of the sessions, discharged for want of prosecution. In short, my chum
had left Oxford, and whether from indolence, or from what other motive
I am ignorant, had declined concerning himself any farther in the
affair.”
“Perhaps,” cries Partridge, “he did not care to have your blood upon
his hands; and he was in the right on't. If any person was to be
hanged upon my evidence, I should never be able to lie alone
afterwards, for fear of seeing his ghost.”
“I shall shortly doubt, Partridge,” says Jones, “whether thou art more
brave or wise.”--“You may laugh at me, sir, if you please,” answered
Partridge; “but if you will hear a very short story which I can tell,
and which is most certainly true, perhaps you may change your opinion.
In the parish where I was born--” Here Jones would have silenced him;
but the stranger interceded that he might be permitted to tell his
story, and in the meantime promised to recollect the remainder of his
own.
Partridge then proceeded thus: “In the parish where I was born, there
lived a farmer whose name was Bridle, and he had a son named Francis,
a good hopeful young fellow: I was at the grammar-school with him,
where I remember he was got into Ovid's Epistles, and he could
construe you three lines together sometimes without looking into a
dictionary. Besides all this, he was a very good lad, never missed
church o' Sundays, and was reckoned one of the best psalm-singers in
the whole parish. He would indeed now and then take a cup too much,
and that was the only fault he had.”--“Well, but come to the ghost,”
cries Jones. “Never fear, sir; I shall come to him soon enough,”
answered Partridge. “You must know, then, that farmer Bridle lost a
mare, a sorrel one, to the best of my remembrance; and so it fell out
that this young Francis shortly afterward being at a fair at Hindon,
and as I think it was on--, I can't remember the day; and being as he
was, what should he happen to meet but a man upon his father's mare.
Frank called out presently, Stop thief; and it being in the middle of
the fair, it was impossible, you know, for the man to make his escape.
So they apprehended him and carried him before the justice: I remember
it was Justice Willoughby, of Noyle, a very worthy good gentleman; and
he committed him to prison, and bound Frank in a recognisance, I think
they call it--a hard word compounded of _re_ and _cognosco_; but it
differs in its meaning from the use of the simple, as many other
compounds do. Well, at last down came my Lord Justice Page to hold the
assizes; and so the fellow was had up, and Frank was had up for a
witness. To be sure, I shall never forget the face of the judge, when
he began to ask him what he had to say against the prisoner. He made
poor Frank tremble and shake in his shoes. `Well you, fellow,' says my
lord, `what have you to say? Don't stand humming and hawing, but speak
out.' But, however, he soon turned altogether as civil to Frank, and
began to thunder at the fellow; and when he asked him if he had
anything to say for himself, the fellow said, he had found the horse.
`Ay!' answered the judge, `thou art a lucky fellow: I have travelled
the circuit these forty years, and never found a horse in my life: but
I'll tell thee what, friend, thou wast more lucky than thou didst know
of; for thou didst not only find a horse, but a halter too, I promise
thee.' To be sure, I shall never forget the word. Upon which everybody
fell a laughing, as how could they help it? Nay, and twenty other
jests he made, which I can't remember now. There was something about
his skill in horse-flesh which made all the folks laugh. To be
certain, the judge must have been a very brave man, as well as a man
of much learning. It is indeed charming sport to hear trials upon life
and death. One thing I own I thought a little hard, that the
prisoner's counsel was not suffered to speak for him, though he