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The History of Tom Jones, a foundling

H >> Henry Fielding >> The History of Tom Jones, a foundling




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
to be erected to you at the public expense, for having preserved a
man, who is not only the darling of all good men who know him, but a
blessing to society, the glory of his country, and an honour to human
nature. D--n me if I don't love him better than my own soul."

"More shame for you," cries Thwackum. "Though I think you have reason
to love him, for he hath provided very well for you. And perhaps it
might have been better for some folks that he had not lived to see
just reason of revoking his gift."

Jones now looking on Thwackum with inconceivable disdain, answered,
"And doth thy mean soul imagine that any such considerations could
weigh with me? No, let the earth open and swallow her own dirt (if I
had millions of acres I would say it) rather than swallow up my dear
glorious friend."

_Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus
Tam chari capitis?_[*]

[*] "What modesty or measure can set bounds to our desire of so dear
a friend?" The word _desiderium_ here cannot be easily translated.
It includes our desire of enjoying our friend again, and the grief
which attends that desire.

The doctor now interposed, and prevented the effects of a wrath which
was kindling between Jones and Thwackum; after which the former gave a
loose to mirth, sang two or three amorous songs, and fell into every
frantic disorder which unbridled joy is apt to inspire; but so far was
he from any disposition to quarrel, that he was ten times better
humoured, if possible, than when he was sober.

To say truth, nothing is more erroneous than the common observation,
that men who are ill-natured and quarrelsome when they are drunk, are
very worthy persons when they are sober: for drink, in reality, doth
not reverse nature, or create passions in men which did not exist in
them before. It takes away the guard of reason, and consequently
forces us to produce those symptoms, which many, when sober, have art
enough to conceal. It heightens and inflames our passions (generally
indeed that passion which is uppermost in our mind), so that the angry
temper, the amorous, the generous, the good-humoured, the avaricious,
and all other dispositions of men, are in their cups heightened and
exposed.

And yet as no nation produces so many drunken quarrels, especially
among the lower people, as England (for indeed, with them, to drink
and to fight together are almost synonymous terms), I would not,
methinks, have it thence concluded, that the English are the
worst-natured people alive. Perhaps the love of glory only is at the
bottom of this; so that the fair conclusion seems to be, that our
countrymen have more of that love, and more of bravery, than any other
plebeians. And this the rather, as there is seldom anything
ungenerous, unfair, or ill-natured, exercised on these occasions: nay,
it is common for the combatants to express good-will for each other
even at the time of the conflict; and as their drunken mirth generally
ends in a battle, so do most of their battles end in friendship.

But to return to our history. Though Jones had shown no design of
giving offence, yet Mr Blifil was highly offended at a behaviour which
was so inconsistent with the sober and prudent reserve of his own
temper. He bore it too with the greater impatience, as it appeared to
him very indecent at this season; "When," as he said, "the house was a
house of mourning, on the account of his dear mother; and if it had
pleased Heaven to give him some prospect of Mr Allworthy's recovery,
it would become them better to express the exultations of their hearts
in thanksgiving, than in drunkenness and riots; which were properer
methods to encrease the Divine wrath, than to avert it." Thwackum, who
had swallowed more liquor than Jones, but without any ill effect on
his brain, seconded the pious harangue of Blifil; but Square, for
reasons which the reader may probably guess, was totally silent.

Wine had not so totally overpowered Jones, as to prevent his
recollecting Mr Blifil's loss, the moment it was mentioned. As no
person, therefore, was more ready to confess and condemn his own
errors, he offered to shake Mr Blifil by the hand, and begged his
pardon, saying, "His excessive joy for Mr Allworthy's recovery had
driven every other thought out of his mind."

Blifil scornfully rejected his hand; and with much indignation
answered, "It was little to be wondered at, if tragical spectacles
made no impression on the blind; but, for his part, he had the
misfortune to know who his parents were, and consequently must be
affected with their loss."

Jones, who, notwithstanding his good humour, had some mixture of the
irascible in his constitution, leaped hastily from his chair, and
catching hold of Blifil's collar, cried out, "D--n you for a rascal,
do you insult me with the misfortune of my birth?" He accompanied
these words with such rough actions, that they soon got the better of
Mr Blifil's peaceful temper; and a scuffle immediately ensued, which
might have produced mischief, had it not been prevented by the
interposition of Thwackum and the physician; for the philosophy of
Square rendered him superior to all emotions, and he very calmly
smoaked his pipe, as was his custom in all broils, unless when he
apprehended some danger of having it broke in his mouth.

The combatants being now prevented from executing present vengeance on
each other, betook themselves to the common resources of disappointed
rage, and vented their wrath in threats and defiance. In this kind of
conflict, Fortune, which, in the personal attack, seemed to incline to
Jones, was now altogether as favourable to his enemy.

A truce, nevertheless, was at length agreed on, by the mediation of
the neutral parties, and the whole company again sat down at the
table; where Jones being prevailed on to ask pardon, and Blifil to
give it, peace was restored, and everything seemed _in statu quo_.

But though the quarrel was, in all appearance, perfectly reconciled,
the good humour which had been interrupted by it, was by no means
restored. All merriment was now at an end, and the subsequent
discourse consisted only of grave relations of matters of fact, and of
as grave observations upon them; a species of conversation, in which,
though there is much of dignity and instruction, there is but little
entertainment. As we presume therefore to convey only this last to the
reader, we shall pass by whatever was said, till the rest of the
company having by degrees dropped off, left only Square and the
physician together; at which time the conversation was a little
heightened by some comments on what had happened between the two young
gentlemen; both of whom the doctor declared to be no better than
scoundrels; to which appellation the philosopher, very sagaciously
shaking his head, agreed.



Chapter x.

Showing the truth of many observations of Ovid, and of other more
grave writers, who have proved beyond contradiction, that wine is
often the forerunner of incontinency.


Jones retired from the company, in which we have seen him engaged,
into the fields, where he intended to cool himself by a walk in the
open air before he attended Mr Allworthy. There, whilst he renewed
those meditations on his dear Sophia, which the dangerous illness of
his friend and benefactor had for some time interrupted, an accident
happened, which with sorrow we relate, and with sorrow doubtless will
it be read; however, that historic truth to which we profess so
inviolable an attachment, obliges us to communicate it to posterity.

It was now a pleasant evening in the latter end of June, when our
heroe was walking in a most delicious grove, where the gentle breezes
fanning the leaves, together with the sweet trilling of a murmuring
stream, and the melodious notes of nightingales, formed altogether the
most enchanting harmony. In this scene, so sweetly accommodated to
love, he meditated on his dear Sophia. While his wanton fancy roamed
unbounded over all her beauties, and his lively imagination painted
the charming maid in various ravishing forms, his warm heart melted
with tenderness; and at length, throwing himself on the ground, by the
side of a gently murmuring brook, he broke forth into the following
ejaculation:

"O Sophia, would Heaven give thee to my arms, how blest would be my
condition! Curst be that fortune which sets a distance between us. Was
I but possessed of thee, one only suit of rags thy whole estate, is
there a man on earth whom I would envy! How contemptible would the
brightest Circassian beauty, drest in all the jewels of the Indies,
appear to my eyes! But why do I mention another woman? Could I think
my eyes capable of looking at any other with tenderness, these hands
should tear them from my head. No, my Sophia, if cruel fortune
separates us for ever, my soul shall doat on thee alone. The chastest
constancy will I ever preserve to thy image. Though I should never
have possession of thy charming person, still shalt thou alone have
possession of my thoughts, my love, my soul. Oh! my fond heart is so
wrapt in that tender bosom, that the brightest beauties would for me
have no charms, nor would a hermit be colder in their embraces.
Sophia, Sophia alone shall be mine. What raptures are in that name! I
will engrave it on every tree."

At these words he started up, and beheld--not his Sophia--no, nor a
Circassian maid richly and elegantly attired for the grand Signior's
seraglio. No; without a gown, in a shift that was somewhat of the
coarsest, and none of the cleanest, bedewed likewise with some
odoriferous effluvia, the produce of the day's labour, with a
pitchfork in her hand, Molly Seagrim approached. Our hero had his
penknife in his hand, which he had drawn for the before-mentioned
purpose of carving on the bark; when the girl coming near him, cryed
out with a smile, "You don't intend to kill me, squire, I hope!"--"Why
should you think I would kill you?" answered Jones. "Nay," replied
she, "after your cruel usage of me when I saw you last, killing me
would, perhaps, be too great kindness for me to expect."

Here ensued a parley, which, as I do not think myself obliged to
relate it, I shall omit. It is sufficient that it lasted a full
quarter of an hour, at the conclusion of which they retired into the
thickest part of the grove.

Some of my readers may be inclined to think this event unnatural.
However, the fact is true; and perhaps may be sufficiently accounted
for by suggesting, that Jones probably thought one woman better than
none, and Molly as probably imagined two men to be better than one.
Besides the before-mentioned motive assigned to the present behaviour
of Jones, the reader will be likewise pleased to recollect in his
favour, that he was not at this time perfect master of that wonderful
power of reason, which so well enables grave and wise men to subdue
their unruly passions, and to decline any of these prohibited
amusements. Wine now had totally subdued this power in Jones. He was,
indeed, in a condition, in which, if reason had interposed, though
only to advise, she might have received the answer which one
Cleostratus gave many years ago to a silly fellow, who asked him, if
he was not ashamed to be drunk? "Are not you," said Cleostratus,
"ashamed to admonish a drunken man?"--To say the truth, in a court of
justice drunkenness must not be an excuse, yet in a court of
conscience it is greatly so; and therefore Aristotle, who commends the
laws of Pittacus, by which drunken men received double punishment for
their crimes, allows there is more of policy than justice in that law.
Now, if there are any transgressions pardonable from drunkenness, they
are certainly such as Mr Jones was at present guilty of; on which head
I could pour forth a vast profusion of learning, if I imagined it
would either entertain my reader, or teach him anything more than he
knows already. For his sake therefore I shall keep my learning to
myself, and return to my history.

It hath been observed, that Fortune seldom doth things by halves. To
say truth, there is no end to her freaks whenever she is disposed to
gratify or displease. No sooner had our heroe retired with his Dido,
but

_Speluncam_ Blifil _dux et divinus eandem
Deveniunt--_

the parson and the young squire, who were taking a serious walk,
arrived at the stile which leads into the grove, and the latter caught
a view of the lovers just as they were sinking out of sight.

Blifil knew Jones very well, though he was at above a hundred yards'
distance, and he was as positive to the sex of his companion, though
not to the individual person. He started, blessed himself, and uttered
a very solemn ejaculation.

Thwackum expressed some surprize at these sudden emotions, and asked
the reason of them. To which Blifil answered, "He was certain he had
seen a fellow and wench retire together among the bushes, which he
doubted not was with some wicked purpose." As to the name of Jones, he
thought proper to conceal it, and why he did so must be left to the
judgment of the sagacious reader; for we never chuse to assign motives
to the actions of men, when there is any possibility of our being
mistaken.

The parson, who was not only strictly chaste in his own person, but a
great enemy to the opposite vice in all others, fired at this
information. He desired Mr Blifil to conduct him immediately to the
place, which as he approached he breathed forth vengeance mixed with
lamentations; nor did he refrain from casting some oblique reflections
on Mr Allworthy; insinuating that the wickedness of the country was
principally owing to the encouragement he had given to vice, by having
exerted such kindness to a bastard, and by having mitigated that just
and wholesome rigour of the law which allots a very severe punishment
to loose wenches.

The way through which our hunters were to pass in pursuit of their
game was so beset with briars, that it greatly obstructed their walk,
and caused besides such a rustling, that Jones had sufficient warning
of their arrival before they could surprize him; nay, indeed, so
incapable was Thwackum of concealing his indignation, and such
vengeance did he mutter forth every step he took, that this alone must
have abundantly satisfied Jones that he was (to use the language of
sportsmen) found sitting.



Chapter xi.

In which a simile in Mr Pope's period of a mile introduces as bloody a
battle as can possibly be fought without the assistance of steel or
cold iron.


As in the season of _rutting_ (an uncouth phrase, by which the vulgar
denote that gentle dalliance, which in the well-wooded[*] forest of
Hampshire, passes between lovers of the ferine kind), if, while the
lofty-crested stag meditates the amorous sport, a couple of puppies,
or any other beasts of hostile note, should wander so near the temple
of Venus Ferina that the fair hind should shrink from the place,
touched with that somewhat, either of fear or frolic, of nicety or
skittishness, with which nature hath bedecked all females, or hath at
least instructed them how to put it on; lest, through the indelicacy
of males, the Samean mysteries should be pryed into by unhallowed
eyes: for, at the celebration of these rites, the female priestess
cries out with her in Virgil (who was then, probably, hard at work on
such celebration),

_--Procul, o procul este, profani;
Proclamat vates, totoque absistite luco._

--Far hence be souls profane,
The sibyl cry'd, and from the grove abstain.--DRYDEN.

[*] This is an ambiguous phrase, and may mean either a forest well
cloathed with wood, or well stript of it.

If, I say, while these sacred rites, which are in common to _genus
omne animantium,_ are in agitation between the stag and his mistress,
any hostile beasts should venture too near, on the first hint given by
the frighted hind, fierce and tremendous rushes forth the stag to the
entrance of the thicket; there stands he centinel over his love,
stamps the ground with his foot, and with his horns brandished aloft
in air, proudly provokes the apprehended foe to combat.

Thus, and more terrible, when he perceived the enemy's approach,
leaped forth our heroe. Many a step advanced he forwards, in order to
conceal the trembling hind, and, if possible, to secure her retreat.
And now Thwackum, having first darted some livid lightning from his
fiery eyes, began to thunder forth, "Fie upon it! Fie upon it! Mr
Jones. Is it possible you should be the person?"--"You see," answered
Jones, "it is possible I should be here."--"And who," said Thwackum,
"is that wicked slut with you?"--"If I have any wicked slut with me,"
cries Jones, "it is possible I shall not let you know who she is."--"I
command you to tell me immediately," says Thwackum: "and I would not
have you imagine, young man, that your age, though it hath somewhat
abridged the purpose of tuition, hath totally taken away the authority
of the master. The relation of the master and scholar is indelible;
as, indeed, all other relations are; for they all derive their
original from heaven. I would have you think yourself, therefore, as
much obliged to obey me now, as when I taught you your first
rudiments."--"I believe you would," cries Jones; "but that will not
happen, unless you had the same birchen argument to convince
me."--"Then I must tell you plainly," said Thwackum, "I am resolved to
discover the wicked wretch."--"And I must tell you plainly," returned
Jones, "I am resolved you shall not." Thwackum then offered to
advance, and Jones laid hold of his arms; which Mr Blifil endeavoured
to rescue, declaring, "he would not see his old master insulted."

Jones now finding himself engaged with two, thought it necessary to
rid himself of one of his antagonists as soon as possible. He
therefore applied to the weakest first; and, letting the parson go, he
directed a blow at the young squire's breast, which luckily taking
place, reduced him to measure his length on the ground.

Thwackum was so intent on the discovery, that, the moment he found
himself at liberty, he stept forward directly into the fern, without
any great consideration of what might in the meantime befal his
friend; but he had advanced a very few paces into the thicket, before
Jones, having defeated Blifil, overtook the parson, and dragged him
backward by the skirt of his coat.

This parson had been a champion in his youth, and had won much honour
by his fist, both at school and at the university. He had now indeed,
for a great number of years, declined the practice of that noble art;
yet was his courage full as strong as his faith, and his body no less
strong than either. He was moreover, as the reader may perhaps have
conceived, somewhat irascible in his nature. When he looked back,
therefore, and saw his friend stretched out on the ground, and found
himself at the same time so roughly handled by one who had formerly
been only passive in all conflicts between them (a circumstance which
highly aggravated the whole), his patience at length gave way; he
threw himself into a posture of offence; and collecting all his force,
attacked Jones in the front with as much impetuosity as he had
formerly attacked him in the rear.

Our heroe received the enemy's attack with the most undaunted
intrepidity, and his bosom resounded with the blow. This he presently
returned with no less violence, aiming likewise at the parson's
breast; but he dexterously drove down the fist of Jones, so that it
reached only his belly, where two pounds of beef and as many of
pudding were then deposited, and whence consequently no hollow sound
could proceed. Many lusty blows, much more pleasant as well as easy to
have seen, than to read or describe, were given on both sides: at last
a violent fall, in which Jones had thrown his knees into Thwackum's
breast, so weakened the latter, that victory had been no longer
dubious, had not Blifil, who had now recovered his strength, again
renewed the fight, and by engaging with Jones, given the parson a
moment's time to shake his ears, and to regain his breath.

And now both together attacked our heroe, whose blows did not retain
that force with which they had fallen at first, so weakened was he by
his combat with Thwackum; for though the pedagogue chose rather to
play _solos_ on the human instrument, and had been lately used to
those only, yet he still retained enough of his antient knowledge to
perform his part very well in a _duet_.

The victory, according to modern custom, was like to be decided by
numbers, when, on a sudden, a fourth pair of fists appeared in the
battle, and immediately paid their compliments to the parson; and the
owner of them at the same time crying out, "Are not you ashamed, and
be d--n'd to you, to fall two of you upon one?"

The battle, which was of the kind that for distinction's sake is
called royal, now raged with the utmost violence during a few minutes;
till Blifil being a second time laid sprawling by Jones, Thwackum
condescended to apply for quarter to his new antagonist, who was now
found to be Mr Western himself; for in the heat of the action none of
the combatants had recognized him.

In fact, that honest squire, happening, in his afternoon's walk with
some company, to pass through the field where the bloody battle was
fought, and having concluded, from seeing three men engaged, that two
of them must be on a side, he hastened from his companions, and with
more gallantry than policy, espoused the cause of the weaker party. By
which generous proceeding he very probably prevented Mr Jones from
becoming a victim to the wrath of Thwackum, and to the pious
friendship which Blifil bore his old master; for, besides the
disadvantage of such odds, Jones had not yet sufficiently recovered
the former strength of his broken arm. This reinforcement, however,
soon put an end to the action, and Jones with his ally obtained the
victory.



Chapter xii.

In which is seen a more moving spectacle than all the blood in the
bodies of Thwackum and Blifil, and of twenty other such, is capable of
producing.


The rest of Mr Western's company were now come up, being just at the
instant when the action was over. These were the honest clergyman,
whom we have formerly seen at Mr Western's table; Mrs Western, the
aunt of Sophia; and lastly, the lovely Sophia herself.

At this time, the following was the aspect of the bloody field. In one
place lay on the ground, all pale, and almost breathless, the
vanquished Blifil. Near him stood the conqueror Jones, almost covered
with blood, part of which was naturally his own, and part had been
lately the property of the Reverend Mr Thwackum. In a third place
stood the said Thwackum, like King Porus, sullenly submitting to the
conqueror. The last figure in the piece was Western the Great, most
gloriously forbearing the vanquished foe.

Blifil, in whom there was little sign of life, was at first the
principal object of the concern of every one, and particularly of Mrs
Western, who had drawn from her pocket a bottle of hartshorn, and was
herself about to apply it to his nostrils, when on a sudden the
attention of the whole company was diverted from poor Blifil, whose
spirit, if it had any such design, might have now taken an opportunity
of stealing off to the other world, without any ceremony.

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