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The History of Tom Jones, a foundling

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




"As to the apprehension of bestowing bounty on such as may hereafter
prove unworthy objects, because many have proved such; surely it can
never deter a good man from generosity. I do not think a few or many
examples of ingratitude can justify a man's hardening his heart
against the distresses of his fellow-creatures; nor do I believe it
can ever have such effect on a truly benevolent mind. Nothing less
than a persuasion of universal depravity can lock up the charity of a
good man; and this persuasion must lead him, I think, either into
atheism, or enthusiasm; but surely it is unfair to argue such
universal depravity from a few vicious individuals; nor was this, I
believe, ever done by a man, who, upon searching his own mind, found
one certain exception to the general rule." He then concluded by
asking, "who that Partridge was, whom he had called a worthless
fellow?"

"I mean," said the captain, "Partridge the barber, the schoolmaster,
what do you call him? Partridge, the father of the little child which
you found in your bed."

Mr Allworthy exprest great surprize at this account, and the captain
as great at his ignorance of it; for he said he had known it above a
month: and at length recollected with much difficulty that he was told
it by Mrs Wilkins.

Upon this, Wilkins was immediately summoned; who having confirmed what
the captain had said, was by Mr Allworthy, by and with the captain's
advice, dispatched to Little Baddington, to inform herself of the
truth of the fact: for the captain exprest great dislike at all hasty
proceedings in criminal matters, and said he would by no means have Mr
Allworthy take any resolution either to the prejudice of the child or
its father, before he was satisfied that the latter was guilty; for
though he had privately satisfied himself of this from one of
Partridge's neighbours, yet he was too generous to give any such
evidence to Mr Allworthy.



Chapter vi.

The trial of Partridge, the schoolmaster, for incontinency; the
evidence of his wife; a short reflection on the wisdom of our law;
with other grave matters, which those will like best who understand
them most.


It may be wondered that a story so well known, and which had furnished
so much matter of conversation, should never have been mentioned to Mr
Allworthy himself, who was perhaps the only person in that country who
had never heard of it.

To account in some measure for this to the reader, I think proper to
inform him, that there was no one in the kingdom less interested in
opposing that doctrine concerning the meaning of the word charity,
which hath been seen in the preceding chapter, than our good man.
Indeed, he was equally intitled to this virtue in either sense; for as
no man was ever more sensible of the wants, or more ready to relieve
the distresses of others, so none could be more tender of their
characters, or slower to believe anything to their disadvantage.

Scandal, therefore, never found any access to his table; for as it
hath been long since observed that you may know a man by his
companions, so I will venture to say, that, by attending to the
conversation at a great man's table, you may satisfy yourself of his
religion, his politics, his taste, and indeed of his entire
disposition: for though a few odd fellows will utter their own
sentiments in all places, yet much the greater part of mankind have
enough of the courtier to accommodate their conversation to the taste
and inclination of their superiors.

But to return to Mrs Wilkins, who, having executed her commission with
great dispatch, though at fifteen miles distance, brought back such a
confirmation of the schoolmaster's guilt, that Mr Allworthy determined
to send for the criminal, and examine him _viva voce_. Mr Partridge,
therefore, was summoned to attend, in order to his defence (if he
could make any) against this accusation.

At the time appointed, before Mr Allworthy himself, at Paradise-hall,
came as well the said Partridge, with Anne, his wife, as Mrs Wilkins
his accuser.

And now Mr Allworthy being seated in the chair of justice, Mr
Partridge was brought before him. Having heard his accusation from the
mouth of Mrs Wilkins, he pleaded not guilty, making many vehement
protestations of his innocence.

Mrs Partridge was then examined, who, after a modest apology for being
obliged to speak the truth against her husband, related all the
circumstances with which the reader hath already been acquainted; and
at last concluded with her husband's confession of his guilt.

Whether she had forgiven him or no, I will not venture to determine;
but it is certain she was an unwilling witness in this cause; and it
is probable from certain other reasons, would never have been brought
to depose as she did, had not Mrs Wilkins, with great art, fished all
out of her at her own house, and had she not indeed made promises, in
Mr Allworthy's name, that the punishment of her husband should not be
such as might anywise affect his family.

Partridge still persisted in asserting his innocence, though he
admitted he had made the above-mentioned confession; which he however
endeavoured to account for, by protesting that he was forced into it
by the continued importunity she used: who vowed, that, as she was
sure of his guilt, she would never leave tormenting him till he had
owned it; and faithfully promised, that, in such case, she would never
mention it to him more. Hence, he said, he had been induced falsely to
confess himself guilty, though he was innocent; and that he believed
he should have confest a murder from the same motive.

Mrs Partridge could not bear this imputation with patience; and having
no other remedy in the present place but tears, she called forth a
plentiful assistance from them, and then addressing herself to Mr
Allworthy, she said (or rather cried), "May it please your worship,
there never was any poor woman so injured as I am by that base man;
for this is not the only instance of his falsehood to me. No, may it
please your worship, he hath injured my bed many's the good time and
often. I could have put up with his drunkenness and neglect of his
business, if he had not broke one of the sacred commandments. Besides,
if it had been out of doors I had not mattered it so much; but with my
own servant, in my own house, under my own roof, to defile my own
chaste bed, which to be sure he hath, with his beastly stinking
whores. Yes, you villain, you have defiled my own bed, you have; and
then you have charged me with bullocking you into owning the truth. It
is very likely, an't please your worship, that I should bullock him? I
have marks enow about my body to show of his cruelty to me. If you had
been a man, you villain, you would have scorned to injure a woman in
that manner. But you an't half a man, you know it. Nor have you been
half a husband to me. You need run after whores, you need, when I'm
sure--And since he provokes me, I am ready, an't please your worship,
to take my bodily oath that I found them a-bed together. What, you
have forgot, I suppose, when you beat me into a fit, and made the
blood run down my forehead, because I only civilly taxed you with
adultery! but I can prove it by all my neighbours. You have almost
broke my heart, you have, you have."

Here Mr Allworthy interrupted, and begged her to be pacified,
promising her that she should have justice; then turning to Partridge,
who stood aghast, one half of his wits being hurried away by surprize
and the other half by fear, he said he was sorry to see there was so
wicked a man in the world. He assured him that his prevaricating and
lying backward and forward was a great aggravation of his guilt; for
which the only atonement he could make was by confession and
repentance. He exhorted him, therefore, to begin by immediately
confessing the fact, and not to persist in denying what was so plainly
proved against him even by his own wife.

Here, reader, I beg your patience a moment, while I make a just
compliment to the great wisdom and sagacity of our law, which refuses
to admit the evidence of a wife for or against her husband. This, says
a certain learned author, who, I believe, was never quoted before in
any but a law-book, would be the means of creating an eternal
dissension between them. It would, indeed, be the means of much
perjury, and of much whipping, fining, imprisoning, transporting, and
hanging.

Partridge stood a while silent, till, being bid to speak, he said he
had already spoken the truth, and appealed to Heaven for his
innocence, and lastly to the girl herself, whom he desired his worship
immediately to send for; for he was ignorant, or at least pretended to
be so, that she had left that part of the country.

Mr Allworthy, whose natural love of justice, joined to his coolness of
temper, made him always a most patient magistrate in hearing all the
witnesses which an accused person could produce in his defence, agreed
to defer his final determination of this matter till the arrival of
Jenny, for whom he immediately dispatched a messenger; and then having
recommended peace between Partridge and his wife (though he addressed
himself chiefly to the wrong person), he appointed them to attend
again the third day; for he had sent Jenny a whole day's journey from
his own house.

At the appointed time the parties all assembled, when the messenger
returning brought word, that Jenny was not to be found; for that she
had left her habitation a few days before, in company with a
recruiting officer.

Mr Allworthy then declared that the evidence of such a slut as she
appeared to be would have deserved no credit; but he said he could not
help thinking that, had she been present, and would have declared the
truth, she must have confirmed what so many circumstances, together
with his own confession, and the declaration of his wife that she had
caught her husband in the fact, did sufficiently prove. He therefore
once more exhorted Partridge to confess; but he still avowing his
innocence, Mr Allworthy declared himself satisfied of his guilt, and
that he was too bad a man to receive any encouragement from him. He
therefore deprived him of his annuity, and recommended repentance to
him on account of another world, and industry to maintain himself and
his wife in this.

There were not, perhaps, many more unhappy persons than poor
Partridge. He had lost the best part of his income by the evidence of
his wife, and yet was daily upbraided by her for having, among other
things, been the occasion of depriving her of that benefit; but such
was his fortune, and he was obliged to submit to it.

Though I called him poor Partridge in the last paragraph, I would have
the reader rather impute that epithet to the compassion in my temper
than conceive it to be any declaration of his innocence. Whether he
was innocent or not will perhaps appear hereafter; but if the historic
muse hath entrusted me with any secrets, I will by no means be guilty
of discovering them till she shall give me leave.

Here therefore the reader must suspend his curiosity. Certain it is
that, whatever was the truth of the case, there was evidence more than
sufficient to convict him before Allworthy; indeed, much less would
have satisfied a bench of justices on an order of bastardy; and yet,
notwithstanding the positiveness of Mrs Partridge, who would have
taken the sacrament upon the matter, there is a possibility that the
schoolmaster was entirely innocent: for though it appeared clear on
comparing the time when Jenny departed from Little Baddington with
that of her delivery that she had there conceived this infant, yet it
by no means followed of necessity that Partridge must have been its
father; for, to omit other particulars, there was in the same house a
lad near eighteen, between whom and Jenny there had subsisted
sufficient intimacy to found a reasonable suspicion; and yet, so blind
is jealousy, this circumstance never once entered into the head of the
enraged wife.

Whether Partridge repented or not, according to Mr Allworthy's advice,
is not so apparent. Certain it is that his wife repented heartily of
the evidence she had given against him: especially when she found Mrs
Deborah had deceived her, and refused to make any application to Mr
Allworthy on her behalf. She had, however, somewhat better success
with Mrs Blifil, who was, as the reader must have perceived, a much
better-tempered woman, and very kindly undertook to solicit her
brother to restore the annuity; in which, though good-nature might
have some share, yet a stronger and more natural motive will appear in
the next chapter.

These solicitations were nevertheless unsuccessful: for though Mr
Allworthy did not think, with some late writers, that mercy consists
only in punishing offenders; yet he was as far from thinking that it
is proper to this excellent quality to pardon great criminals
wantonly, without any reason whatever. Any doubtfulness of the fact,
or any circumstance of mitigation, was never disregarded: but the
petitions of an offender, or the intercessions of others, did not in
the least affect him. In a word, he never pardoned because the
offender himself, or his friends, were unwilling that he should be
punished.

Partridge and his wife were therefore both obliged to submit to their
fate; which was indeed severe enough: for so far was he from doubling
his industry on the account of his lessened income, that he did in a
manner abandon himself to despair; and as he was by nature indolent,
that vice now increased upon him, by which means he lost the little
school he had; so that neither his wife nor himself would have had any
bread to eat, had not the charity of some good Christian interposed,
and provided them with what was just sufficient for their sustenance.

As this support was conveyed to them by an unknown hand, they
imagined, and so, I doubt not, will the reader, that Mr Allworthy
himself was their secret benefactor; who, though he would not openly
encourage vice, could yet privately relieve the distresses of the
vicious themselves, when these became too exquisite and
disproportionate to their demerit. In which light their wretchedness
appeared now to Fortune herself; for she at length took pity on this
miserable couple, and considerably lessened the wretched state of
Partridge, by putting a final end to that of his wife, who soon after
caught the small-pox, and died.

The justice which Mr Allworthy had executed on Partridge at first met
with universal approbation; but no sooner had he felt its
consequences, than his neighbours began to relent, and to
compassionate his case; and presently after, to blame that as rigour
and severity which they before called justice. They now exclaimed
against punishing in cold blood, and sang forth the praises of mercy
and forgiveness.

These cries were considerably increased by the death of Mrs Partridge,
which, though owing to the distemper above mentioned, which is no
consequence of poverty or distress, many were not ashamed to impute to
Mr Allworthy's severity, or, as they now termed it, cruelty.

Partridge having now lost his wife, his school, and his annuity, and
the unknown person having now discontinued the last-mentioned charity,
resolved to change the scene, and left the country, where he was in
danger of starving, with the universal compassion of all his
neighbours.



Chapter vii.

A short sketch of that felicity which prudent couples may extract from
hatred: with a short apology for those people who overlook
imperfections in their friends.


Though the captain had effectually demolished poor Partridge, yet had
he not reaped the harvest he hoped for, which was to turn the
foundling out of Mr Allworthy's house.

On the contrary, that gentleman grew every day fonder of little Tommy,
as if he intended to counterbalance his severity to the father with
extraordinary fondness and affection towards the son.

This a good deal soured the captain's temper, as did all the other
daily instances of Mr Allworthy's generosity; for he looked on all
such largesses to be diminutions of his own wealth.

In this, we have said, he did not agree with his wife; nor, indeed, in
anything else: for though an affection placed on the understanding is,
by many wise persons, thought more durable than that which is founded
on beauty, yet it happened otherwise in the present case. Nay, the
understandings of this couple were their principal bone of contention,
and one great cause of many quarrels, which from time to time arose
between them; and which at last ended, on the side of the lady, in a
sovereign contempt for her husband; and on the husband's, in an utter
abhorrence of his wife.

As these had both exercised their talents chiefly in the study of
divinity, this was, from their first acquaintance, the most common
topic of conversation between them. The captain, like a well-bred man,
had, before marriage, always given up his opinion to that of the lady;
and this, not in the clumsy awkward manner of a conceited blockhead,
who, while he civilly yields to a superior in an argument, is desirous
of being still known to think himself in the right. The captain, on
the contrary, though one of the proudest fellows in the world, so
absolutely yielded the victory to his antagonist, that she, who had
not the least doubt of his sincerity, retired always from the dispute
with an admiration of her own understanding and a love for his.

But though this complacence to one whom the captain thoroughly
despised, was not so uneasy to him as it would have been had any hopes
of preferment made it necessary to show the same submission to a
Hoadley, or to some other of great reputation in the science, yet even
this cost him too much to be endured without some motive. Matrimony,
therefore, having removed all such motives, he grew weary of this
condescension, and began to treat the opinions of his wife with that
haughtiness and insolence, which none but those who deserve some
contempt themselves can bestow, and those only who deserve no contempt
can bear.

When the first torrent of tenderness was over, and when, in the calm
and long interval between the fits, reason began to open the eyes of
the lady, and she saw this alteration of behaviour in the captain, who
at length answered all her arguments only with pish and pshaw, she was
far from enduring the indignity with a tame submission. Indeed, it at
first so highly provoked her, that it might have produced some
tragical event, had it not taken a more harmless turn, by filling her
with the utmost contempt for her husband's understanding, which
somewhat qualified her hatred towards him; though of this likewise she
had a pretty moderate share.

The captain's hatred to her was of a purer kind: for as to any
imperfections in her knowledge or understanding, he no more despised
her for them, than for her not being six feet high. In his opinion of
the female sex, he exceeded the moroseness of Aristotle himself: he
looked on a woman as on an animal of domestic use, of somewhat higher
consideration than a cat, since her offices were of rather more
importance; but the difference between these two was, in his
estimation, so small, that, in his marriage contracted with Mr
Allworthy's lands and tenements, it would have been pretty equal which
of them he had taken into the bargain. And yet so tender was his
pride, that it felt the contempt which his wife now began to express
towards him; and this, added to the surfeit he had before taken of her
love, created in him a degree of disgust and abhorrence, perhaps
hardly to be exceeded.

One situation only of the married state is excluded from pleasure: and
that is, a state of indifference: but as many of my readers, I hope,
know what an exquisite delight there is in conveying pleasure to a
beloved object, so some few, I am afraid, may have experienced the
satisfaction of tormenting one we hate. It is, I apprehend, to come at
this latter pleasure, that we see both sexes often give up that ease
in marriage which they might otherwise possess, though their mate was
never so disagreeable to them. Hence the wife often puts on fits of
love and jealousy, nay, even denies herself any pleasure, to disturb
and prevent those of her husband; and he again, in return, puts
frequent restraints on himself, and stays at home in company which he
dislikes, in order to confine his wife to what she equally detests.
Hence, too, must flow those tears which a widow sometimes so
plentifully sheds over the ashes of a husband with whom she led a life
of constant disquiet and turbulency, and whom now she can never hope
to torment any more.

But if ever any couple enjoyed this pleasure, it was at present
experienced by the captain and his lady. It was always a sufficient
reason to either of them to be obstinate in any opinion, that the
other had previously asserted the contrary. If the one proposed any
amusement, the other constantly objected to it: they never loved or
hated, commended or abused, the same person. And for this reason, as
the captain looked with an evil eye on the little foundling, his wife
began now to caress it almost equally with her own child.

The reader will be apt to conceive, that this behaviour between the
husband and wife did not greatly contribute to Mr Allworthy's repose,
as it tended so little to that serene happiness which he had designed
for all three from this alliance; but the truth is, though he might be
a little disappointed in his sanguine expectations, yet he was far
from being acquainted with the whole matter; for, as the captain was,
from certain obvious reasons, much on his guard before him, the lady
was obliged, for fear of her brother's displeasure, to pursue the same
conduct. In fact, it is possible for a third person to be very
intimate, nay even to live long in the same house, with a married
couple, who have any tolerable discretion, and not even guess at the
sour sentiments which they bear to each other: for though the whole
day may be sometimes too short for hatred, as well as for love; yet
the many hours which they naturally spend together, apart from all
observers, furnish people of tolerable moderation with such ample
opportunity for the enjoyment of either passion, that, if they love,
they can support being a few hours in company without toying, or if
they hate, without spitting in each other's faces.

It is possible, however, that Mr Allworthy saw enough to render him a
little uneasy; for we are not always to conclude, that a wise man is
not hurt, because he doth not cry out and lament himself, like those
of a childish or effeminate temper. But indeed it is possible he might
see some faults in the captain without any uneasiness at all; for men
of true wisdom and goodness are contented to take persons and things
as they are, without complaining of their imperfections, or attempting
to amend them. They can see a fault in a friend, a relation, or an
acquaintance, without ever mentioning it to the parties themselves, or
to any others; and this often without lessening their affection.
Indeed, unless great discernment be tempered with this overlooking
disposition, we ought never to contract friendship but with a degree
of folly which we can deceive; for I hope my friends will pardon me
when I declare, I know none of them without a fault; and I should be
sorry if I could imagine I had any friend who could not see mine.
Forgiveness of this kind we give and demand in turn. It is an exercise
of friendship, and perhaps none of the least pleasant. And this
forgiveness we must bestow, without desire of amendment. There is,
perhaps, no surer mark of folly, than an attempt to correct the
natural infirmities of those we love. The finest composition of human
nature, as well as the finest china, may have a flaw in it; and this,
I am afraid, in either case, is equally incurable; though,
nevertheless, the pattern may remain of the highest value.

Upon the whole, then, Mr Allworthy certainly saw some imperfections in
the captain; but as this was a very artful man, and eternally upon his
guard before him, these appeared to him no more than blemishes in a
good character, which his goodness made him overlook, and his wisdom
prevented him from discovering to the captain himself. Very different
would have been his sentiments had he discovered the whole; which
perhaps would in time have been the case, had the husband and wife
long continued this kind of behaviour to each other; but this kind
Fortune took effectual means to prevent, by forcing the captain to do
that which rendered him again dear to his wife, and restored all her
tenderness and affection towards him.



Chapter viii.

A receipt to regain the lost affections of a wife, which hath never
been known to fail in the most desperate cases.


The captain was made large amends for the unpleasant minutes which he
passed in the conversation of his wife (and which were as few as he
could contrive to make them), by the pleasant meditations he enjoyed
when alone.

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