Joseph Andrews, Vol. 2

by Henry Fielding

  CHAPTER X.

  _The history of two friends, which may afford an useful lesson to allthose persons who happen to take up their residence in marriedfamilies._

  "Leonard and Paul were two friends."--"Pronounce it Lennard, child,"cried the parson.--"Pray, Mr Adams," says Lady Booby, "let your son readwithout interruption." Dick then proceeded. "Lennard and Paul were twofriends, who, having been educated together at the same school,commenced a friendship which they preserved a long time for each other.It was so deeply fixed in both their minds, that a long absence, duringwhich they had maintained no correspondence, did not eradicate norlessen it: but it revived in all its force at their first meeting, whichwas not till after fifteen years' absence, most of which time Lennardhad spent in the East Indi-es."--"Pronounce it short, Indies," saysAdams.--"Pray? sir, be quiet," says the lady.--The boy repeated--"in theEast Indies, whilst Paul had served his king and country in the army. Inwhich different services they had found such different success, thatLennard was now married, and retired with a fortune of thirty thousandpounds; and Paul was arrived to the degree of a lieutenant of foot; andwas not worth a single shilling.

  "The regiment in which Paul was stationed happened to be ordered intoquarters within a small distance from the estate which Lennard hadpurchased, and where he was settled. This latter, who was now become acountry gentleman, and a justice of peace, came to attend the quartersessions in the town where his old friend was quartered, soon after hisarrival. Some affair in which a soldier was concerned occasioned Paul toattend the justices. Manhood, and time, and the change of climate had somuch altered Lennard, that Paul did not immediately recollect thefeatures of his old acquaintance: but it was otherwise with Lennard. Heknew Paul the moment he saw him; nor could he contain himself fromquitting the bench, and running hastily to embrace him. Paul stood atfirst a little surprized; but had soon sufficient information from hisfriend, whom he no sooner remembered than he returned his embrace with apassion which made many of the spectators laugh, and gave to some few amuch higher and more agreeable sensation.

  "Not to detain the reader with minute circumstances, Lennard insisted onhis friend's returning with him to his house that evening; which requestwas complied with, and leave for a month's absence for Paul obtained ofthe commanding officer.

  "If it was possible for any circumstance to give any addition to thehappiness which Paul proposed in this visit, he received that additionalpleasure by finding, on his arrival at his friend's house, that his ladywas an old acquaintance which he had formerly contracted at hisquarters, and who had always appeared to be of a most agreeable temper;a character she had ever maintained among her intimates, being of thatnumber, every individual of which is called quite the best sort of womanin the world.

  "But, good as this lady was, she was still a woman; that is to say, anangel, and not an angel."--"You must mistake, child," cries the parson,"for you read nonsense."--"It is so in the book," answered the son. MrAdams was then silenced by authority, and Dick proceeded--"For thoughher person was of that kind to which men attribute the name of angel,yet in her mind she was perfectly woman. Of which a great degree ofobstinacy gave the most remarkable and perhaps most pernicious instance.

  "A day or two passed after Paul's arrival before any instances of thisappeared; but it was impossible to conceal it long. Both she and herhusband soon lost all apprehension from their friend's presence, andfell to their disputes with as much vigour as ever. These were stillpursued with the utmost ardour and eagerness, however trifling thecauses were whence they first arose. Nay, however incredible it mayseem, the little consequence of the matter in debate was frequentlygiven as a reason for the fierceness of the contention, as thus: 'If youloved me, sure you would never dispute with me such a trifle as this.'The answer to which is very obvious; for the argument would hold equallyon both sides, and was constantly retorted with some addition, as--'I amsure I have much more reason to say so, who am in the right.' During allthese disputes, Paul always kept strict silence, and preserved an evencountenance, without showing the least visible inclination to eitherparty. One day, however, when madam had left the room in a violent fury,Lennard could not refrain from referring his cause to his friend. Wasever anything so unreasonable, says he, as this woman? What shall I dowith her? I doat on her to distraction; nor have I any cause to complainof, more than this obstinacy in her temper; whatever she asserts, shewill maintain against all the reason and conviction in the world. Praygive me your advice.--First, says Paul, I will give my opinion, whichis, flatly, that you are in the wrong; for, supposing she is in thewrong, was the subject of your contention any ways material? Whatsignified it whether you was married in a red or a yellow waistcoat? forthat was your dispute. Now, suppose she was mistaken; as you love heryou say so tenderly, and I believe she deserves it, would it not havebeen wiser to have yielded, though you certainly knew yourself in theright, than to give either her or yourself any uneasiness. For my ownpart, if ever I marry, I am resolved to enter into an agreement with mywife, that in all disputes (especially about trifles) that party who ismost convinced they are right shall always surrender the victory; bywhich means we shall both be forward to give up the cause. I own, saidLennard, my dear friend, shaking him by the hand, there is great truthand reason in what you say; and I will for the future endeavour tofollow your advice. They soon after broke up the conversation, andLennard, going to his wife, asked her pardon, and told her his friendhad convinced him he had been in the wrong. She immediately began a vastencomium on Paul, in which he seconded her, and both agreed he was theworthiest and wisest man upon earth. When next they met, which was atsupper, though she had promised not to mention what her husband toldher, she could not forbear casting the kindest and most affectionatelooks on Paul, and asked him, with the sweetest voice, whether sheshould help him to some potted woodcock? Potted partridge, my dear, youmean, says the husband. My dear, says she, I ask your friend if he willeat any potted woodcock; and I am sure I must know, who potted it. Ithink I should know too, who shot them, replied the husband, and I amconvinced that I have not seen a woodcock this year; however, though Iknow I am in the right, I submit, and the potted partridge is pottedwoodcock if you desire to have it so. It is equal to me, says she,whether it is one or the other; but you would persuade one out of one'ssenses; to be sure, you are always in the right in your own opinion; butyour friend, I believe, knows which he is eating. Paul answered nothing,and the dispute continued, as usual, the greatest part of the evening.The next morning the lady, accidentally meeting Paul, and beingconvinced he was her friend, and of her side, accosted him thus:--I amcertain, sir, you have long since wondered at the unreasonableness of myhusband. He is indeed, in other respects, a good sort of man, but sopositive, that no woman but one of my complying temper could possiblylive with him. Why, last night, now, was ever any creature sounreasonable? I am certain you must condemn him. Pray, answer me, was henot in the wrong? Paul, after a short silence, spoke as follows: I amsorry, madam, that, as good manners obliges me to answer against mywill, so an adherence to truth forces me to declare myself of adifferent opinion. To be plain and honest, you was entirely in thewrong; the cause I own not worth disputing, but the bird was undoubtedlya partridge. O sir! replyed the lady, I cannot possibly help your taste.Madam, returned Paul, that is very little material; for, had it beenotherwise, a husband might have expected submission.--Indeed! sir, saysshe, I assure you!--Yes, madam, cryed he, he might, from a person ofyour excellent understanding; and pardon me for saying, such acondescension would have shown a superiority of sense even to yourhusband himself.--But, dear sir, said she, why should I submit when I amin the right?--For that very reason, answered he; it would be thegreatest instance of affection imaginable; for can anything be a greaterobject of our compassion than a person we love in the wrong? Ay, but Ishould endeavour, said she, to set him right. Pardon me, madam, answeredPaul: I will apply to your own experience if you ever found yourarguments had that effect. The more our judgments err, the less we
arewilling to own it: for my own part, I have always observed the personswho maintain the worst side in any contest are the warmest. Why, saysshe, I must confess there is truth in what you say, and I will endeavourto practise it. The husband then coming in, Paul departed. And Leonard,approaching his wife with an air of good humour, told her he was sorryfor their foolish dispute the last night; but he was now convinced ofhis error. She answered, smiling, she believed she owed hiscondescension to his complacence; that she was ashamed to think a wordhad passed on so silly an occasion, especially as she was satisfyed shehad been mistaken. A little contention followed, but with the utmostgood-will to each other, and was concluded by her asserting that Paulhad thoroughly convinced her she had been in the wrong. Upon which theyboth united in the praises of their common friend.

  "Paul now passed his time with great satisfaction, these disputes beingmuch less frequent, as well as shorter than usual; but the devil, orsome unlucky accident in which perhaps the devil had no hand, shortlyput an end to his happiness. He was now eternally the private referee ofevery difference; in which, after having perfectly, as he thought,established the doctrine of submission, he never scrupled to assure bothprivately that they were in the right in every argument, as before hehad followed the contrary method. One day a violent litigation happenedin his absence, and both parties agreed to refer it to his decision. Thehusband professing himself sure the decision would be in his favour; thewife answered, he might be mistaken; for she believed his friend wasconvinced how seldom she was to blame; and that if he knew all--Thehusband replied, My dear, I have no desire of any retrospect; but Ibelieve, if you knew all too, you would not imagine my friend soentirely on your side. Nay, says she, since you provoke me, I willmention one instance. You may remember our dispute about sending Jackeyto school in cold weather, which point I gave up to you from merecompassion, knowing myself to be in the right; and Paul himself told meafterwards he thought me so. My dear, replied the husband, I will notscruple your veracity; but I assure you solemnly, on my applying to him,he gave it absolutely on my side, and said he would have acted in thesame manner. They then proceeded to produce numberless other instances,in all which Paul had, on vows of secresy, given his opinion on bothsides. In the conclusion, both believing each other, they fell severelyon the treachery of Paul, and agreed that he had been the occasion ofalmost every dispute which had fallen out between them. They then becameextremely loving, and so full of condescension on both sides, that theyvyed with each other in censuring their own conduct, and jointly ventedtheir indignation on Paul, whom the wife, fearing a bloody consequence,earnestly entreated her husband to suffer quietly to depart the nextday, which was the time fixed for his return to quarters, and then drophis acquaintance.

  "However ungenerous this behaviour in Lennard may be esteemed, his wifeobtained a promise from him (though with difficulty) to follow heradvice; but they both expressed such unusual coldness that day to Paul,that he, who was quick of apprehension, taking Lennard aside, pressedhim so home, that he at last discovered the secret. Paul acknowledgedthe truth, but told him the design with which he had done it.--To whichthe other answered, he would have acted more friendly to have let himinto the whole design; for that he might have assured himself of hissecresy. Paul replyed, with some indignation, he had given him asufficient proof how capable he was of concealing a secret from hiswife. Lennard returned with some warmth--he had more reason to upbraidhim, for that he had caused most of the quarrels between them by hisstrange conduct, and might (if they had not discovered the affair toeach other) have been the occasion of their separation. Paul thensaid"--But something now happened which put a stop to Dick's reading,and of which we shall treat in the next chapter.