The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics)

by Henry Fielding

  The old Woman was distracted between the Fears which she had of her Master, and for him; and Partridge was, if possible, in a greater Fright. The former of these, however, when she heard her Master speak kindly to Jones, and perceived what had happened, came again to herself; but Partridge no sooner saw the Gentleman, than the Strangeness of his Dress infused greater Terrors into that poor Fellow, than he had before felt either from the strange Description which he had heard, or from the Uproar which had happened at the Door.

  To say the Truth, it was an Appearance which might have affected a more constant Mind than that of Mr. Partridge. This Person was of the tallest Size, with a long Beard as white as Snow. His Body was cloathed with the Skin of an Ass, made something into the Form of a Coat. He wore likewise Boots on his Legs, and a Cap on his Head, both composed of the Skin of some other Animals.

  As soon as the old Gentleman came into his House, the old Woman began her Congratulations on his happy Escape from the Ruffians. ‘Yes,’ cried he, ‘I have escaped indeed, Thanks to my Preserver.’ ‘O the Blessing on him,’ answered she, ‘he is a good Gentleman, I warrant him. I was afraid your Worship would have been angry with me for letting him in; and to be certain I should not have done it, had not I seen by the Moonlight, that he was a Gentleman, and almost frozen to Death. And to be certain it must have been some good Angel that sent him hither, and tempted me to do it.’

  ‘I am afraid, Sir,’ said the old Gentleman to Jones, ‘that I have nothing in this House which you can either eat or drink, unless you will accept a Dram of Brandy; of which I can give you some most excellent, and which I have had by me these thirty Years.’Jones declined this Offer in a very civil and proper Speech, and then the other asked him ‘Whither he was travelling when he mist his Way; saying, I must own myself surprized to see such a Person as you appear to be journeying on Foot at this Time of Night. I suppose, Sir, you are a Gentleman of these Parts: for you do not look like one who is used to travel far without Horses.’

  ‘Appearances,’ cried Jones, ‘are often deceitful; Men sometimes look like what they are not. I assure you, I am not of this Country, and whither I am travelling, in Reality I scarce know myself.’

  ‘Whoever you are, or whithersoever you are going,’ answered the old Man, ‘I have Obligations to you which I can never return.’

  ‘I once more,’ replied Jones, ‘affirm, that you have none: For there can be no Merit in having hazarded that in your Service on which I set no Value. And nothing is so contemptible in my Eyes as Life.’

  ‘I am sorry, young Gentleman,’ answered the Stranger, ‘that you have any Reason to be so unhappy at your Years.’

  ‘Indeed I am, Sir,’ answered Jones, ‘the most unhappy of Man-kind.’—‘Perhaps you have had a Friend, or a Mistress,’ replied the other. ‘How could you,’ cries Jones, ‘mention two Words sufficient to drive me to Distraction.’ ‘Either of them are enough to drive any Man to Distraction,’ answered the old Man. ‘I enquire no farther, Sir. Perhaps my Curiosity hath led me too far already.’

  ‘Indeed, Sir,’ cries Jones, ‘I cannot censure a Passion, which I feel at this Instant in the highest Degree. You will pardon me, when I assure you, that every Thing which I have seen or heard since I first entered this House, hath conspired to raise the greatest Curiosity in me. Something very extraordinary must have determined you to this Course of Life, and I have reason to fear your own History is not without Misfortunes.’

  Here the old Gentleman again sighed, and remained silent for some Minutes; at last, looking earnestly on Jones, he said, ‘I have read that a good Countenance is a Letter of Recommendation;3 if so, none ever can be more strongly recommended than yourself. If I did not feel some Yearnings towards you from another Consideration, I must be the most ungrateful Monster upon Earth; and I am really concerned it is no otherwise in my Power, than by Words, to convince you of my Gratitude.’

  Jones after a Moment’s Hesitation, answered, ‘That it was in his Power by Words to gratify him extremely. I have confest a Curiosity,’ said he, ‘Sir; need I say how much obliged I should be to you, if you would condescend to gratify it? Will you suffer me therefore to beg, unless any Consideration restrains you, that you would be pleased to acquaint me what Motives have induced you thus to withdraw from the Society of Mankind, and to betake yourself to a Course of Life to which it sufficiently appears you were not born?’

  ‘I scarce think myself at Liberty to refuse you any thing after what hath happened,’ replied the old Man, ‘If you desire therefore to hear the Story of an unhappy Man, I will relate it to you. Indeed you judge rightly, in thinking there is commonly something extraordinary in the Fortunes of those who fly from Society: For however it may seem a Paradox, or even a Contradiction, certain it is that great Philanthropy chiefly inclines us to avoid and detest Mankind; not on Account so much of their private and selfish Vices, but for those of a relative Kind; such as Envy, Malice, Treachery, Cruelty, with every other Species of Malevolence. These are the Vices which true Philanthropy abhors, and which rather than see and converse with, she avoids Society itself. However, without a Compliment to you, you do not appear to me one of those whom I should shun or detest; nay, I must say, in what little hath dropt from you, there appears some Parity in our Fortunes; I hope however yours will conclude more successfully.’

  Here some Compliments passed between our Heroe and his Host, and then the latter was going to begin his History, when Partridge interrupted him. His Apprehensions had now pretty well left him; but some Effects of his Terrors remained; he therefore reminded the Gentleman of that excellent Brandy which he had mentioned. This was presently brought, and Partridge swallowed a large Bumper.

  The Gentleman then, without any farther Preface, began as you may read in the next Chapter.

  CHAPTER XI.

  In which the Man of the Hill begins to relate his History.

  ‘I was born in a Village of Somersetshire, called Mark, in the Year 1657; my Father was one of those whom they call Gentlemen Farmers. He had a little Estate of about 300l. a Year of his own, and rented another Estate of near the same Value. He was prudent and industrious, and so good a Husbandman, that he might have led a very easy and comfortable Life, had not an arrant Vixen of a Wife soured his domestic Quiet. But tho’ this Circumstance perhaps made him miserable, it did not make him poor: For he confined her almost entirely at Home, and rather chose to bear eternal Upbraidings in his own House, than to injure his Fortune by indulging her in the Extravagancies she desired abroad.

  ‘By this Xanthippe’ (so was the Wife of Socrates called, said Partridge) ‘By this Xanthippe he had two Sons, of which I was the younger. He designed to give us both good Education; but my elder Brother, who, unhappily for him, was the Favourite of my Mother, utterly neglected his Learning; insomuch that after having been five or six Years at School with little or no Improvement, my Father being told by his Master, that it would be to no Purpose to keep him longer there, at last complied with my Mother in taking him home from the Hands of that Tyrant, as she called his Master; though indeed he gave the Lad much less Correction than his Idleness deserved, but much more, it seems, than the young Gentleman liked, who constantly complained to his Mother of his severe Treatment, and she as constantly gave him a Hearing.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ cries Partridge, ‘I have seen such Mothers; I have been abused myself by them, and very unjustly; such Parents deserve Correction as much as their Children.’

  Jones chid the Pedagogue for his Interruption, and then the Stranger proceeded. ‘My Brother now, at the Age of fifteen, bid adieu to all Learning, and to every thing else but to his Dog and Gun, with which latter he became so expert, that, though perhaps you may think it incredible, he could not only hit a standing Mark with great Certainty, but hath actually shot a Crow as it was flying in the Air. He was likewise excellent at finding a Hare sitting, and was soon reputed one of the best Sportsmen in the Country. A Reputation which both he and his Mother enjoyed as much as if he had been
thought the finest Scholar.

  ‘The Situation of my Brother made me at first think my Lot the harder, in being continued at School; but I soon changed my Opinion; for as I advanced pretty fast in Learning, my Labours became easy, and my Exercise so delightful, that Holidays were my most unpleasant Time: For my Mother, who never loved me, now apprehending that I had the greater Share of my Father’s Affection, and finding, or at least thinking, that I was more taken Notice of by some Gentlemen of Learning, and particularly by the Parson of the Parish, than my Brother, she now hated my Sight, and made Home so disagreeable to me, that what is called by Schoolboys Black Monday, was to me the whitest in the whole Year.

  ‘Having, at length, gone through the School at Taunton, I was thence removed to Exeter College in Oxford, where I remained four Years; at the End of which an Accident took me off entirely from my Studies; and hence I may truly date the Rise of all which happened to me afterwards in Life.

  ‘There was at the same College with myself one Sir George Gresham, a young Fellow who was intitled to a very considerable Fortune; which he was not, by the Will of his Father, to come into full Possession of, till he arrived at the Age of Twenty-five. However, the Liberality of his Guardians gave him little Cause to regret the abundant Caution of his Father: For they allowed him Five hundred Pound a Year while he remained at the University, where he kept his Horses and his Whore, and lived as wicked and as profligate a Life, as he could have done, had he been never so entirely Master of his Fortune; for besides the Five hundred a Year which he received from his Guardians, he found Means to spend a Thousand more. He was above the Age of Twenty-one, and had no Difficulty in gaining what Credit he pleased.

  ‘This young Fellow, among many other tolerable bad Qualities, had one very diabolical. He had a great Delight in destroying and ruining the Youth of inferior Fortune, by drawing them into Expences which they could not afford so well as himself; and the better, and worthier, and soberer, any young Man was, the greater Pleasure and Triumph had he in his Destruction. Thus acting the Character which is recorded of the Devil, and going about seeking whom he might devour.1

  ‘It was my Misfortune to fall into an Acquaintance and Intimacy with this Gentleman. My Reputation of Diligence in my Studies made me a desirable Object of his mischievous Intention; and my own Inclination made it sufficiently easy for him to effect his Purpose; for tho’ I had applied myself with much Industry to Books, in which I took great Delight, there were other Pleasures in which I was capable of taking much greater; for I was highmettled, had a violent Flow of animal Spirits, was a little ambitious, and extremely amorous.

  ‘I had not long contracted an Intimacy with Sir George, before I became a Partaker of all his Pleasures; and when I was once entered on that Scene, neither my Inclination, nor my Spirit, would suffer me to play an Under-Part. I was second to none of the Company in any Acts of Debauchery; nay, I soon distinguished myself so notably in all Riots and Disorders, that my Name generally stood first in the Roll of Delinquents; and instead of being lamented as the unfortunate Pupil of Sir George, I was now accused as the Person who had misled and debauched that hopeful young Gentleman; for tho’ he was the Ring-leader and Promoter of all the Mischief, he was never so considered. I fell at last under the Censure of the Vice-Chancellor, and very narrowly escaped Expulsion.

  ‘You will easily believe, Sir, that such a Life as I am now describing must be incompatible with my further Progress in Learning; and that in Proportion as I addicted myself more and more to loose Pleasure, I must grow more and more remiss in Application to my Studies. This was truly the Consequence; but this was not all. My Expences now greatly exceeded not only my former Income, but those Additions which I 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 Expences 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, tho’ 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 any Thing that might give him Pain in the Relation; but Partridge eagerly cried out, ‘O 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, tho’ 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, tho’ 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 Whitney, 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 any thing 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 Tho
ughts 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.