A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

The History of Tom Jones, a foundling

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




These meditations were entirely employed on Mr Allworthy's fortune;
for, first, he exercised much thought in calculating, as well as he
could, the exact value of the whole: which calculations he often saw
occasion to alter in his own favour: and, secondly and chiefly, he
pleased himself with intended alterations in the house and gardens,
and in projecting many other schemes, as well for the improvement of
the estate as of the grandeur of the place: for this purpose he
applied himself to the studies of architecture and gardening, and read
over many books on both these subjects; for these sciences, indeed,
employed his whole time, and formed his only amusement. He at last
completed a most excellent plan: and very sorry we are, that it is not
in our power to present it to our reader, since even the luxury of the
present age, I believe, would hardly match it. It had, indeed, in a
superlative degree, the two principal ingredients which serve to
recommend all great and noble designs of this nature; for it required
an immoderate expense to execute, and a vast length of time to bring
it to any sort of perfection. The former of these, the immense wealth
of which the captain supposed Mr Allworthy possessed, and which he
thought himself sure of inheriting, promised very effectually to
supply; and the latter, the soundness of his own constitution, and his
time of life, which was only what is called middle-age, removed all
apprehension of his not living to accomplish.

Nothing was wanting to enable him to enter upon the immediate
execution of this plan, but the death of Mr Allworthy; in calculating
which he had employed much of his own algebra, besides purchasing
every book extant that treats of the value of lives, reversions, &c.
From all which he satisfied himself, that as he had every day a chance
of this happening, so had he more than an even chance of its happening
within a few years.

But while the captain was one day busied in deep contemplations of
this kind, one of the most unlucky as well as unseasonable accidents
happened to him. The utmost malice of Fortune could, indeed, have
contrived nothing so cruel, so mal-a-propos, so absolutely destructive
to all his schemes. In short, not to keep the reader in long suspense,
just at the very instant when his heart was exulting in meditations on
the happiness which would accrue to him by Mr Allworthy's death, he
himself--died of an apoplexy.

This unfortunately befel the captain as he was taking his evening walk
by himself, so that nobody was present to lend him any assistance, if
indeed, any assistance could have preserved him. He took, therefore,
measure of that proportion of soil which was now become adequate to
all his future purposes, and he lay dead on the ground, a great
(though not a living) example of the truth of that observation of
Horace:

_Tu secanda marmora
Locas sub ipsum funus; et sepulchri
Immemor, struis domos._

Which sentiment I shall thus give to the English reader: "You provide
the noblest materials for building, when a pickaxe and a spade are
only necessary: and build houses of five hundred by a hundred feet,
forgetting that of six by two."



Chapter ix.

A proof of the infallibility of the foregoing receipt, in the
lamentations of the widow; with other suitable decorations of death,
such as physicians, &c., and an epitaph in the true stile.


Mr Allworthy, his sister, and another lady, were assembled at the
accustomed hour in the supper-room, where, having waited a
considerable time longer than usual, Mr Allworthy first declared he
began to grow uneasy at the captain's stay (for he was always most
punctual at his meals); and gave orders that the bell should be rung
without the doors, and especially towards those walks which the
captain was wont to use.

All these summons proving ineffectual (for the captain had, by
perverse accident, betaken himself to a new walk that evening), Mrs
Blifil declared she was seriously frightened. Upon which the other
lady, who was one of her most intimate acquaintance, and who well knew
the true state of her affections, endeavoured all she could to pacify
her, telling her--To be sure she could not help being uneasy; but that
she should hope the best. That, perhaps the sweetness of the evening
had inticed the captain to go farther than his usual walk: or he might
be detained at some neighbour's. Mrs Blifil answered, No; she was sure
some accident had befallen him; for that he would never stay out
without sending her word, as he must know how uneasy it would make
her. The other lady, having no other arguments to use, betook herself
to the entreaties usual on such occasions, and begged her not to
frighten herself, for it might be of very ill consequence to her own
health; and, filling out a very large glass of wine, advised, and at
last prevailed with her to drink it.

Mr Allworthy now returned into the parlour; for he had been himself in
search after the captain. His countenance sufficiently showed the
consternation he was under, which, indeed, had a good deal deprived
him of speech; but as grief operates variously on different minds, so
the same apprehension which depressed his voice, elevated that of Mrs
Blifil. She now began to bewail herself in very bitter terms, and
floods of tears accompanied her lamentations; which the lady, her
companion, declared she could not blame, but at the same time
dissuaded her from indulging; attempting to moderate the grief of her
friend by philosophical observations on the many disappointments to
which human life is daily subject, which, she said, was a sufficient
consideration to fortify our minds against any accidents, how sudden
or terrible soever. She said her brother's example ought to teach her
patience, who, though indeed he could not be supposed as much
concerned as herself, yet was, doubtless, very uneasy, though his
resignation to the Divine will had restrained his grief within due
bounds.

"Mention not my brother," said Mrs Blifil; "I alone am the object of
your pity. What are the terrors of friendship to what a wife feels on
these occasions? Oh, he is lost! Somebody hath murdered him--I shall
never see him more!"--Here a torrent of tears had the same consequence
with what the suppression had occasioned to Mr Allworthy, and she
remained silent.

At this interval a servant came running in, out of breath, and cried
out, The captain was found; and, before he could proceed farther, he
was followed by two more, bearing the dead body between them.

Here the curious reader may observe another diversity in the
operations of grief: for as Mr Allworthy had been before silent, from
the same cause which had made his sister vociferous; so did the
present sight, which drew tears from the gentleman, put an entire stop
to those of the lady; who first gave a violent scream, and presently
after fell into a fit.

The room was soon full of servants, some of whom, with the lady
visitant, were employed in care of the wife; and others, with Mr
Allworthy, assisted in carrying off the captain to a warm bed; where
every method was tried, in order to restore him to life.

And glad should we be, could we inform the reader that both these
bodies had been attended with equal success; for those who undertook
the care of the lady succeeded so well, that, after the fit had
continued a decent time, she again revived, to their great
satisfaction: but as to the captain, all experiments of bleeding,
chafing, dropping, &c., proved ineffectual. Death, that inexorable
judge, had passed sentence on him, and refused to grant him a
reprieve, though two doctors who arrived, and were fee'd at one and
the same instant, were his counsel.

These two doctors, whom, to avoid any malicious applications, we shall
distinguish by the names of Dr Y. and Dr Z., having felt his pulse; to
wit, Dr Y. his right arm, and Dr Z. his left; both agreed that he was
absolutely dead; but as to the distemper, or cause of his death, they
differed; Dr Y. holding that he died of an apoplexy, and Dr Z. of an
epilepsy.

Hence arose a dispute between the learned men, in which each delivered
the reasons of their several opinions. These were of such equal force,
that they served both to confirm either doctor in his own sentiments,
and made not the least impression on his adversary.

To say the truth, every physician almost hath his favourite disease,
to which he ascribes all the victories obtained over human nature. The
gout, the rheumatism, the stone, the gravel, and the consumption, have
all their several patrons in the faculty; and none more than the
nervous fever, or the fever on the spirits. And here we may account
for those disagreements in opinion, concerning the cause of a
patient's death, which sometimes occur, between the most learned of
the college; and which have greatly surprized that part of the world
who have been ignorant of the fact we have above asserted.

The reader may perhaps be surprized, that, instead of endeavouring to
revive the patient, the learned gentlemen should fall immediately into
a dispute on the occasion of his death; but in reality all such
experiments had been made before their arrival: for the captain was
put into a warm bed, had his veins scarified, his forehead chafed, and
all sorts of strong drops applied to his lips and nostrils.

The physicians, therefore, finding themselves anticipated in
everything they ordered, were at a loss how to apply that portion of
time which it is usual and decent to remain for their fee, and were
therefore necessitated to find some subject or other for discourse;
and what could more naturally present itself than that before
mentioned?

Our doctors were about to take their leave, when Mr Allworthy, having
given over the captain, and acquiesced in the Divine will, began to
enquire after his sister, whom he desired them to visit before their
departure.

This lady was now recovered of her fit, and, to use the common phrase,
as well as could be expected for one in her condition. The doctors,
therefore, all previous ceremonies being complied with, as this was a
new patient, attended, according to desire, and laid hold on each of
her hands, as they had before done on those of the corpse.

The case of the lady was in the other extreme from that of her
husband: for as he was past all the assistance of physic, so in
reality she required none.

There is nothing more unjust than the vulgar opinion, by which
physicians are misrepresented, as friends to death. On the contrary, I
believe, if the number of those who recover by physic could be opposed
to that of the martyrs to it, the former would rather exceed the
latter. Nay, some are so cautious on this head, that, to avoid a
possibility of killing the patient, they abstain from all methods of
curing, and prescribe nothing but what can neither do good nor harm. I
have heard some of these, with great gravity, deliver it as a maxim,
"That Nature should be left to do her own work, while the physician
stands by as it were to clap her on the back, and encourage her when
she doth well."

So little then did our doctors delight in death, that they discharged
the corpse after a single fee; but they were not so disgusted with
their living patient; concerning whose case they immediately agreed,
and fell to prescribing with great diligence.

Whether, as the lady had at first persuaded her physicians to believe
her ill, they had now, in return, persuaded her to believe herself so,
I will not determine; but she continued a whole month with all the
decorations of sickness. During this time she was visited by
physicians, attended by nurses, and received constant messages from
her acquaintance to enquire after her health.

At length the decent time for sickness and immoderate grief being
expired, the doctors were discharged, and the lady began to see
company; being altered only from what she was before, by that colour
of sadness in which she had dressed her person and countenance.

The captain was now interred, and might, perhaps, have already made a
large progress towards oblivion, had not the friendship of Mr
Allworthy taken care to preserve his memory, by the following epitaph,
which was written by a man of as great genius as integrity, and one
who perfectly well knew the captain.

HERE LIES,
IN EXPECTATION OF A JOYFUL RISING,
THE BODY OF

CAPTAIN JOHN BLIFIL.

LONDON
HAD THE HONOUR OF HIS BIRTH,
OXFORD
OF HIS EDUCATION.

HIS PARTS
WERE AN HONOUR TO HIS PROFESSION
AND TO HIS COUNTRY:
HIS LIFE, TO HIS RELIGION
AND HUMAN NATURE.
HE WAS A DUTIFUL SON,
A TENDER HUSBAND,
AN AFFECTIONATE FATHER,
A MOST KIND BROTHER,
A SINCERE FRIEND,
A DEVOUT CHRISTIAN,
AND A GOOD MAN.

HIS INCONSOLABLE WIDOW
HATH ERECTED THIS STONE,
THE MONUMENT OF
HIS VIRTUES
AND OF HER AFFECTION.




BOOK III.

CONTAINING THE MOST MEMORABLE TRANSACTIONS WHICH PASSED IN THE FAMILY
OF MR ALLWORTHY, FROM THE TIME WHEN TOMMY JONES ARRIVED AT THE AGE OF
FOURTEEN, TILL HE ATTAINED THE AGE OF NINETEEN. IN THIS BOOK THE
READER MAY PICK UP SOME HINTS CONCERNING THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.



Chapter i.

Containing little or nothing.


The reader will be pleased to remember, that, at the beginning of the
second book of this history, we gave him a hint of our intention to
pass over several large periods of time, in which nothing happened
worthy of being recorded in a chronicle of this kind.

In so doing, we do not only consult our own dignity and ease, but the
good and advantage of the reader: for besides that by these means we
prevent him from throwing away his time, in reading without either
pleasure or emolument, we give him, at all such seasons, an
opportunity of employing that wonderful sagacity, of which he is
master, by filling up these vacant spaces of time with his own
conjectures; for which purpose we have taken care to qualify him in
the preceding pages.

For instance, what reader but knows that Mr Allworthy felt, at first,
for the loss of his friend, those emotions of grief, which on such
occasions enter into all men whose hearts are not composed of flint,
or their heads of as solid materials? Again, what reader doth not know
that philosophy and religion in time moderated, and at last
extinguished, this grief? The former of these teaching the folly and
vanity of it, and the latter correcting it as unlawful, and at the
same time assuaging it, by raising future hopes and assurances, which
enable a strong and religious mind to take leave of a friend, on his
deathbed, with little less indifference than if he was preparing for a
long journey; and, indeed, with little less hope of seeing him again.

Nor can the judicious reader be at a greater loss on account of Mrs
Bridget Blifil, who, he may be assured, conducted herself through the
whole season in which grief is to make its appearance on the outside
of the body, with the strictest regard to all the rules of custom and
decency, suiting the alterations of her countenance to the several
alterations of her habit: for as this changed from weeds to black,
from black to grey, from grey to white, so did her countenance change
from dismal to sorrowful, from sorrowful to sad, and from sad to
serious, till the day came in which she was allowed to return to her
former serenity.

We have mentioned these two, as examples only of the task which may be
imposed on readers of the lowest class. Much higher and harder
exercises of judgment and penetration may reasonably be expected from
the upper graduates in criticism. Many notable discoveries will, I
doubt not, be made by such, of the transactions which happened in the
family of our worthy man, during all the years which we have thought
proper to pass over: for though nothing worthy of a place in this
history occurred within that period, yet did several incidents happen
of equal importance with those reported by the daily and weekly
historians of the age; in reading which great numbers of persons
consume a considerable part of their time, very little, I am afraid,
to their emolument. Now, in the conjectures here proposed, some of the
most excellent faculties of the mind may be employed to much
advantage, since it is a more useful capacity to be able to foretel
the actions of men, in any circumstance, from their characters, than
to judge of their characters from their actions. The former, I own,
requires the greater penetration; but may be accomplished by true
sagacity with no less certainty than the latter.

As we are sensible that much the greatest part of our readers are very
eminently possessed of this quality, we have left them a space of
twelve years to exert it in; and shall now bring forth our heroe, at
about fourteen years of age, not questioning that many have been long
impatient to be introduced to his acquaintance.



Chapter ii.


The heroe of this great history appears with very bad omens. A little
tale of so LOW a kind that some may think it not worth their notice. A
word or two concerning a squire, and more relating to a gamekeeper and
a schoolmaster.

As we determined, when we first sat down to write this history, to
flatter no man, but to guide our pen throughout by the directions of
truth, we are obliged to bring our heroe on the stage in a much more
disadvantageous manner than we could wish; and to declare honestly,
even at his first appearance, that it was the universal opinion of all
Mr Allworthy's family that he was certainly born to be hanged.

Indeed, I am sorry to say there was too much reason for this
conjecture; the lad having from his earliest years discovered a
propensity to many vices, and especially to one which hath as direct a
tendency as any other to that fate which we have just now observed to
have been prophetically denounced against him: he had been already
convicted of three robberies, viz., of robbing an orchard, of stealing
a duck out of a farmer's yard, and of picking Master Blifil's pocket
of a ball.

The vices of this young man were, moreover, heightened by the
disadvantageous light in which they appeared when opposed to the
virtues of Master Blifil, his companion; a youth of so different a
cast from little Jones, that not only the family but all the
neighbourhood resounded his praises. He was, indeed, a lad of a
remarkable disposition; sober, discreet, and pious beyond his age;
qualities which gained him the love of every one who knew him: while
Tom Jones was universally disliked; and many expressed their wonder
that Mr Allworthy would suffer such a lad to be educated with his
nephew, lest the morals of the latter should be corrupted by his
example.

An incident which happened about this time will set the characters of
these two lads more fairly before the discerning reader than is in the
power of the longest dissertation.

Tom Jones, who, bad as he is, must serve for the heroe of this
history, had only one friend among all the servants of the family; for
as to Mrs Wilkins, she had long since given him up, and was perfectly
reconciled to her mistress. This friend was the gamekeeper, a fellow
of a loose kind of disposition, and who was thought not to entertain
much stricter notions concerning the difference of _meum_ and _tuum_
than the young gentleman himself. And hence this friendship gave
occasion to many sarcastical remarks among the domestics, most of
which were either proverbs before, or at least are become so now; and,
indeed, the wit of them all may be comprised in that short Latin
proverb, "_Noscitur a socio;_" which, I think, is thus expressed in
English, "You may know him by the company he keeps."

To say the truth, some of that atrocious wickedness in Jones, of which
we have just mentioned three examples, might perhaps be derived from
the encouragement he had received from this fellow, who, in two or
three instances, had been what the law calls an accessary after the
fact: for the whole duck, and great part of the apples, were converted
to the use of the gamekeeper and his family; though, as Jones alone
was discovered, the poor lad bore not only the whole smart, but the
whole blame; both which fell again to his lot on the following
occasion.

Contiguous to Mr Allworthy's estate was the manor of one of those
gentlemen who are called preservers of the game. This species of men,
from the great severity with which they revenge the death of a hare or
partridge, might be thought to cultivate the same superstition with
the Bannians in India; many of whom, we are told, dedicate their whole
lives to the preservation and protection of certain animals; was it
not that our English Bannians, while they preserve them from other
enemies, will most unmercifully slaughter whole horse-loads
themselves; so that they stand clearly acquitted of any such
heathenish superstition.

I have, indeed, a much better opinion of this kind of men than is
entertained by some, as I take them to answer the order of Nature, and
the good purposes for which they were ordained, in a more ample manner
than many others. Now, as Horace tells us that there are a set of
human beings

_Fruges consumere nati,_

"Born to consume the fruits of the earth;" so I make no manner of
doubt but that there are others

_Feras consumere nati,_

"Born to consume the beasts of the field;" or, as it is commonly
called, the game; and none, I believe, will deny but that those
squires fulfil this end of their creation.

Little Jones went one day a shooting with the gamekeeper; when
happening to spring a covey of partridges near the border of that
manor over which Fortune, to fulfil the wise purposes of Nature, had
planted one of the game consumers, the birds flew into it, and were
marked (as it is called) by the two sportsmen, in some furze bushes,
about two or three hundred paces beyond Mr Allworthy's dominions.

Mr Allworthy had given the fellow strict orders, on pain of forfeiting
his place, never to trespass on any of his neighbours; no more on
those who were less rigid in this matter than on the lord of this
manor. With regard to others, indeed, these orders had not been always
very scrupulously kept; but as the disposition of the gentleman with
whom the partridges had taken sanctuary was well known, the gamekeeper
had never yet attempted to invade his territories. Nor had he done it
now, had not the younger sportsman, who was excessively eager to
pursue the flying game, over-persuaded him; but Jones being very
importunate, the other, who was himself keen enough after the sport,
yielded to his persuasions, entered the manor, and shot one of the
partridges.

The gentleman himself was at that time on horse-back, at a little
distance from them; and hearing the gun go off, he immediately made
towards the place, and discovered poor Tom; for the gamekeeper had
leapt into the thickest part of the furze-brake, where he had happily
concealed himself.

The gentleman having searched the lad, and found the partridge upon
him, denounced great vengeance, swearing he would acquaint Mr
Allworthy. He was as good as his word: for he rode immediately to his
house, and complained of the trespass on his manor in as high terms
and as bitter language as if his house had been broken open, and the
most valuable furniture stole out of it. He added, that some other
person was in his company, though he could not discover him; for that
two guns had been discharged almost in the same instant. And, says he,
"We have found only this partridge, but the Lord knows what mischief
they have done."

At his return home, Tom was presently convened before Mr Allworthy. He
owned the fact, and alledged no other excuse but what was really true,
viz., that the covey was originally sprung in Mr Allworthy's own
manor.

Tom was then interrogated who was with him, which Mr Allworthy
declared he was resolved to know, acquainting the culprit with the
circumstance of the two guns, which had been deposed by the squire and
both his servants; but Tom stoutly persisted in asserting that he was
alone; yet, to say the truth, he hesitated a little at first, which
would have confirmed Mr Allworthy's belief, had what the squire and
his servants said wanted any further confirmation.

The gamekeeper, being a suspected person, was now sent for, and the
question put to him; but he, relying on the promise which Tom had made
him, to take all upon himself, very resolutely denied being in company
with the young gentleman, or indeed having seen him the whole
afternoon.

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.