History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter viii.

  Containing matter rather natural than pleasing.

  Besides grief for her master, there was another source for that brinystream which so plentifully rose above the two mountainous cheek-bonesof the housekeeper. She was no sooner retired, than she began tomutter to herself in the following pleasant strain: "Sure master mighthave made some difference, methinks, between me and the otherservants. I suppose he hath left me mourning; but, i'fackins! if thatbe all, the devil shall wear it for him, for me. I'd have his worshipknow I am no beggar. I have saved five hundred pound in his service,and after all to be used in this manner.--It is a fine encouragementto servants to be honest; and to be sure, if I have taken a littlesomething now and then, others have taken ten times as much; and nowwe are all put in a lump together. If so be that it be so, the legacymay go to the devil with him that gave it. No, I won't give it upneither, because that will please some folks. No, I'll buy the gayestgown I can get, and dance over the old curmudgeon's grave in it. Thisis my reward for taking his part so often, when all the country havecried shame of him, for breeding up his bastard in that manner; but heis going now where he must pay for all. It would have become himbetter to have repented of his sins on his deathbed, than to glory inthem, and give away his estate out of his own family to a misbegottenchild. Found in his bed, forsooth! a pretty story! ay, ay, those thathide know where to find. Lord forgive him! I warrant he hath many morebastards to answer for, if the truth was known. One comfort is, theywill all be known where he is a going now.--`The servants will findsome token to remember me by.' Those were the very words; I shallnever forget them, if I was to live a thousand years. Ay, ay, I shallremember you for huddling me among the servants. One would havethought he might have mentioned my name as well as that of Square; buthe is a gentleman forsooth, though he had not cloths on his back whenhe came hither first. Marry come up with such gentlemen! though hehath lived here this many years, I don't believe there is arrow aservant in the house ever saw the colour of his money. The devil shallwait upon such a gentleman for me." Much more of the like kind shemuttered to herself; but this taste shall suffice to the reader.

  Neither Thwackum nor Square were much better satisfied with theirlegacies. Though they breathed not their resentment so loud, yet fromthe discontent which appeared in their countenances, as well as fromthe following dialogue, we collect that no great pleasure reigned intheir minds.

  About an hour after they had left the sick-room, Square met Thwackumin the hall and accosted him thus: "Well, sir, have you heard any newsof your friend since we parted from him?"--"If you mean Mr Allworthy,"answered Thwackum, "I think you might rather give him the appellationof your friend; for he seems to me to have deserved that title."--"Thetitle is as good on your side," replied Square, "for his bounty, suchas it is, hath been equal to both."--"I should not have mentioned itfirst," cries Thwackum, "but since you begin, I must inform you I amof a different opinion. There is a wide distinction between voluntaryfavours and rewards. The duty I have done in his family, and the careI have taken in the education of his two boys, are services for whichsome men might have expected a greater return. I would not have youimagine I am therefore dissatisfied; for St Paul hath taught me tobe content with the little I have. Had the modicum been less, Ishould have known my duty. But though the Scriptures obliges me toremain contented, it doth not enjoin me to shut my eyes to my ownmerit, nor restrain me from seeing when I am injured by an unjustcomparison."--"Since you provoke me," returned Square, "that injury isdone to me; nor did I ever imagine Mr Allworthy had held my friendshipso light, as to put me in balance with one who received his wages. Iknow to what it is owing; it proceeds from those narrow principleswhich you have been so long endeavouring to infuse into him, incontempt of everything which is great and noble. The beauty andloveliness of friendship is too strong for dim eyes, nor can it beperceived by any other medium than that unerring rule of right, whichyou have so often endeavoured to ridicule, that you have pervertedyour friend's understanding."--"I wish," cries Thwackum, in a rage, "Iwish, for the sake of his soul, your damnable doctrines have notperverted his faith. It is to this I impute his present behaviour, sounbecoming a Christian. Who but an atheist could think of leaving theworld without having first made up his account? without confessing hissins, and receiving that absolution which he knew he had one in thehouse duly authorized to give him? He will feel the want of thesenecessaries when it is too late, when he is arrived at that placewhere there is wailing and gnashing of teeth. It is then he will findin what mighty stead that heathen goddess, that virtue, which you andall other deists of the age adore, will stand him. He will then summonhis priest, when there is none to be found, and will lament the wantof that absolution, without which no sinner can be safe."--"If it beso material," says Square, "why don't you present it him of your ownaccord?" "It hath no virtue," cries Thwackum, "but to those who havesufficient grace to require it. But why do I talk thus to a heathenand an unbeliever? It is you that taught him this lesson, for whichyou have been well rewarded in this world, as I doubt not yourdisciple will soon be in the other."--"I know not what you mean byreward," said Square; "but if you hint at that pitiful memorial of ourfriendship, which he hath thought fit to bequeath me, I despise it;and nothing but the unfortunate situation of my circumstances shouldprevail on me to accept it."

  The physician now arrived, and began to inquire of the two disputants,how we all did above-stairs? "In a miserable way," answered Thwackum."It is no more than I expected," cries the doctor: "but pray whatsymptoms have appeared since I left you?"--"No good ones, I amafraid," replied Thwackum: "after what past at our departure, I thinkthere were little hopes." The bodily physician, perhaps, misunderstoodthe curer of souls; and before they came to an explanation, Mr Blifilcame to them with a most melancholy countenance, and acquainted themthat he brought sad news, that his mother was dead at Salisbury; thatshe had been seized on the road home with the gout in her head andstomach, which had carried her off in a few hours. "Good-lack-a-day!"says the doctor. "One cannot answer for events; but I wish I had beenat hand, to have been called in. The gout is a distemper which it isdifficult to treat; yet I have been remarkably successful in it."Thwackum and Square both condoled with Mr Blifil for the loss of hismother, which the one advised him to bear like a man, and the otherlike a Christian. The young gentleman said he knew very well we wereall mortal, and he would endeavour to submit to his loss as well as hecould. That he could not, however, help complaining a little againstthe peculiar severity of his fate, which brought the news of so greata calamity to him by surprize, and that at a time when he hourlyexpected the severest blow he was capable of feeling from the maliceof fortune. He said, the present occasion would put to the test thoseexcellent rudiments which he had learnt from Mr Thwackum and MrSquare; and it would be entirely owing to them, if he was enabled tosurvive such misfortunes.

  It was now debated whether Mr Allworthy should be informed of thedeath of his sister. This the doctor violently opposed; in which, Ibelieve, the whole college would agree with him: but Mr Blifil said,he had received such positive and repeated orders from his uncle,never to keep any secret from him for fear of the disquietude which itmight give him, that he durst not think of disobedience, whatevermight be the consequence. He said, for his part, considering thereligious and philosophic temper of his uncle, he could not agree withthe doctor in his apprehensions. He was therefore resolved tocommunicate it to him: for if his uncle recovered (as he heartilyprayed he might) he knew he would never forgive an endeavour to keep asecret of this kind from him.

  The physician was forced to submit to these resolutions, which the twoother learned gentlemen very highly commended. So together moved MrBlifil and the doctor toward the sick-room; where the physician firstentered, and approached the bed, in order to feel his patient's pulse,which he had no sooner done, than he declared he was much better; thatthe last application had succeeded to a miracle, and had brought thefever to intermit: so that, he said, there appear
ed now to be aslittle danger as he had before apprehended there were hopes.

  To say the truth, Mr Allworthy's situation had never been so bad asthe great caution of the doctor had represented it: but as a wisegeneral never despises his enemy, however inferior that enemy's forcemay be, so neither doth a wise physician ever despise a distemper,however inconsiderable. As the former preserves the same strictdiscipline, places the same guards, and employs the same scouts,though the enemy be never so weak; so the latter maintains the samegravity of countenance, and shakes his head with the same significantair, let the distemper be never so trifling. And both, among manyother good ones, may assign this solid reason for their conduct, thatby these means the greater glory redounds to them if they gain thevictory, and the less disgrace if by any unlucky accident they shouldhappen to be conquered.

  Mr Allworthy had no sooner lifted up his eyes, and thanked Heaven forthese hopes of his recovery, than Mr Blifil drew near, with a verydejected aspect, and having applied his handkerchief to his eye,either to wipe away his tears, or to do as Ovid somewhere expresseshimself on another occasion

  _Si nullus erit, tamen excute nullum,_

  If there be none, then wipe away that none,

  he communicated to his uncle what the reader hath been just beforeacquainted with.

  Allworthy received the news with concern, with patience, and withresignation. He dropt a tender tear, then composed his countenance,and at last cried, "The Lord's will be done in everything."

  He now enquired for the messenger; but Blifil told him it had beenimpossible to detain him a moment; for he appeared by the great hurryhe was in to have some business of importance on his hands; that hecomplained of being hurried and driven and torn out of his life, andrepeated many times, that if he could divide himself into fourquarters, he knew how to dispose of every one.

  Allworthy then desired Blifil to take care of the funeral. He said, hewould have his sister deposited in his own chapel; and as to theparticulars, he left them to his own discretion, only mentioning theperson whom he would have employed on this occasion.