History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter ii.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Contiguous to Mr Allworthy's estate was the manor of one of thosegentlemen who are called preservers of the game. This species of men,from the great severity with which they revenge the death of a hare orpartridge, might be thought to cultivate the same superstition withthe Bannians in India; many of whom, we are told, dedicate their wholelives to the preservation and protection of certain animals; was itnot that our English Bannians, while they preserve them from otherenemies, will most unmercifully slaughter whole horse-loadsthemselves; so that they stand clearly acquitted of any suchheathenish superstition.

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

  _Fruges consumere nati,_

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

  _Feras consumere nati,_

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

  Little Jones went one day a shooting with the gamekeeper; whenhappening to spring a covey of partridges near the border of thatmanor over which Fortune, to fulfil the wise purposes of Nature, hadplanted one of the game consumers, the birds flew into it, and weremarked (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 forfeitinghis place, never to trespass on any of his neighbours; no more onthose who were less rigid in this matter than on the lord of thismanor. With regard to others, indeed, these orders had not been alwaysvery scrupulously kept; but as the disposition of the gentleman withwhom the partridges had taken sanctuary was well known, the gamekeeperhad never yet attempted to invade his territories. Nor had he done itnow, had not the younger sportsman, who was excessively eager topursue the flying game, over-persuaded him; but Jones being veryimportunate, the other, who was himself keen enough after the sport,yielded to his persuasions, entered the manor, and shot one of thepartridges.

  The gentleman himself was at that time on horse-back, at a littledistance from them; and hearing the gun go off, he immediately madetowards the place, and discovered poor Tom; for the gamekeeper hadleapt into the thickest part of the furze-brake, where he had happilyconcealed himself.

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

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

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

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

  Mr Allworthy then turned towards Tom, with more than usual anger inhis countenance, and advised him to confess who was with him;repeating, that he was resolved to know. The lad, however, stillmaintained his resolution, and was dismissed with much wrath by MrAllworthy, who told him he should have to the next morning to considerof it, when he should be questioned by another person, and in anothermanner.

  Poor Jones spent a very melancholy night; and the more so, as he waswithout his usual companion; for Master Blifil was gone abroad on avisit with his mother. Fear of the punishment he was to suffer was onthis occasion his least evil; his chief anxiety being, lest hisconstancy should fail him, and he should be brought to betray thegamekeeper, whose ruin he knew must now be the consequence.

  Nor did the gamekeeper pass his time much better. He had the sameapprehensions with the youth; for whose honour he had likewise a muchtenderer regard than for his skin.

  In the morning, when Tom attended the reveren
d Mr Thwackum, the personto whom Mr Allworthy had committed the instruction of the two boys, hehad the same questions put to him by that gentleman which he had beenasked the evening before, to which he returned the same answers. Theconsequence of this was, so severe a whipping, that it possibly felllittle short of the torture with which confessions are in somecountries extorted from criminals.

  Tom bore his punishment with great resolution; and though his masterasked him, between every stroke, whether he would not confess, he wascontented to be flead rather than betray his friend, or break thepromise he had made.

  The gamekeeper was now relieved from his anxiety, and Mr Allworthyhimself began to be concerned at Tom's sufferings: for besides that MrThwackum, being highly enraged that he was not able to make the boysay what he himself pleased, had carried his severity much beyond thegood man's intention, this latter began now to suspect that the squirehad been mistaken; which his extreme eagerness and anger seemed tomake probable; and as for what the servants had said in confirmationof their master's account, he laid no great stress upon that. Now, ascruelty and injustice were two ideas of which Mr Allworthy could by nomeans support the consciousness a single moment, he sent for Tom, andafter many kind and friendly exhortations, said, "I am convinced, mydear child, that my suspicions have wronged you; I am sorry that youhave been so severely punished on this account." And at last gave hima little horse to make him amends; again repeating his sorrow for whathad past.

  Tom's guilt now flew in his face more than any severity could make it.He could more easily bear the lashes of Thwackum, than the generosityof Allworthy. The tears burst from his eyes, and he fell upon hisknees, crying, "Oh, sir, you are too good to me. Indeed you are.Indeed I don't deserve it." And at that very instant, from the fulnessof his heart, had almost betrayed the secret; but the good genius ofthe gamekeeper suggested to him what might be the consequence to thepoor fellow, and this consideration sealed his lips.

  Thwackum did all he could to persuade Allworthy from showing anycompassion or kindness to the boy, saying, "He had persisted in anuntruth;" and gave some hints, that a second whipping might probablybring the matter to light.

  But Mr Allworthy absolutely refused to consent to the experiment. Hesaid, the boy had suffered enough already for concealing the truth,even if he was guilty, seeing that he could have no motive but amistaken point of honour for so doing.

  "Honour!" cryed Thwackum, with some warmth, "mere stubbornness andobstinacy! Can honour teach any one to tell a lie, or can any honourexist independent of religion?"

  This discourse happened at table when dinner was just ended; and therewere present Mr Allworthy, Mr Thwackum, and a third gentleman, who nowentered into the debate, and whom, before we proceed any further, weshall briefly introduce to our reader's acquaintance.