History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter viii.

  Jones arrives at Gloucester, and goes to the Bell; the character ofthat house, and of a petty-fogger which he there meets with.

  Mr Jones and Partridge, or Little Benjamin (which epithet of Littlewas perhaps given him ironically, he being in reality near six feethigh), having left their last quarters in the manner before described,travelled on to Gloucester without meeting any adventure worthrelating.

  Being arrived here, they chose for their house of entertainment thesign of the Bell, an excellent house indeed, and which I do mostseriously recommend to every reader who shall visit this antient city.The master of it is brother to the great preacher Whitefield; but isabsolutely untainted with the pernicious principles of Methodism, orof any other heretical sect. He is indeed a very honest plain man,and, in my opinion, not likely to create any disturbance either inchurch or state. His wife hath, I believe, had much pretension tobeauty, and is still a very fine woman. Her person and deportmentmight have made a shining figure in the politest assemblies; butthough she must be conscious of this and many other perfections, sheseems perfectly contented with, and resigned to, that state of life towhich she is called; and this resignation is entirely owing to theprudence and wisdom of her temper; for she is at present as free fromany Methodistical notions as her husband: I say at present; for shefreely confesses that her brother's documents made at first someimpression upon her, and that she had put herself to the expense of along hood, in order to attend the extraordinary emotions of theSpirit; but having found, during an experiment of three weeks, noemotions, she says, worth a farthing, she very wisely laid by herhood, and abandoned the sect. To be concise, she is a very friendlygood-natured woman; and so industrious to oblige, that the guests mustbe of a very morose disposition who are not extremely well satisfiedin her house.

  Mrs Whitefield happened to be in the yard when Jones and his attendantmarched in. Her sagacity soon discovered in the air of our heroesomething which distinguished him from the vulgar. She ordered herservants, therefore, immediately to show him into a room, andpresently afterwards invited him to dinner with herself; whichinvitation he very thankfully accepted; for indeed much less agreeablecompany than that of Mrs Whitefield, and a much worse entertainmentthan she had provided, would have been welcome after so long fastingand so long a walk.

  Besides Mr Jones and the good governess of the mansion, there sat downat table an attorney of Salisbury, indeed the very same who hadbrought the news of Mrs Blifil's death to Mr Allworthy, and whosename, which I think we did not before mention, was Dowling: there waslikewise present another person, who stiled himself a lawyer, and wholived somewhere near Linlinch, in Somersetshire. This fellow, I say,stiled himself a lawyer, but was indeed a most vile petty-fogger,without sense or knowledge of any kind; one of those who may be termedtrain-bearers to the law; a sort of supernumeraries in the profession,who are the hackneys of attorneys, and will ride more miles forhalf-a-crown than a postboy.

  During the time of dinner, the Somersetshire lawyer recollected theface of Jones, which he had seen at Mr Allworthy's; for he had oftenvisited in that gentleman's kitchen. He therefore took occasion toenquire after the good family there with that familiarity which wouldhave become an intimate friend or acquaintance of Mr Allworthy; andindeed he did all in his power to insinuate himself to be such, thoughhe had never had the honour of speaking to any person in that familyhigher than the butler. Jones answered all his questions with muchcivility, though he never remembered to have seen the petty-foggerbefore; and though he concluded, from the outward appearance andbehaviour of the man, that he usurped a freedom with his betters, towhich he was by no means intitled.

  As the conversation of fellows of this kind is of all others the mostdetestable to men of any sense, the cloth was no sooner removed thanMr Jones withdrew, and a little barbarously left poor Mrs Whitefieldto do a penance, which I have often heard Mr Timothy Harris, and otherpublicans of good taste, lament, as the severest lot annexed to theircalling, namely, that of being obliged to keep company with theirguests.

  Jones had no sooner quitted the room, than the petty-fogger, in awhispering tone, asked Mrs Whitefield, "If she knew who that finespark was?" She answered, "She had never seen the gentlemanbefore."--"The gentleman, indeed!" replied the petty-fogger; "a prettygentleman, truly! Why, he's the bastard of a fellow who was hanged forhorse-stealing. He was dropt at Squire Allworthy's door, where one ofthe servants found him in a box so full of rain-water, that he wouldcertainly have been drowned, had he not been reserved for anotherfate."--"Ay, ay, you need not mention it, I protest: we understandwhat that fate is very well," cries Dowling, with a most facetiousgrin.--"Well," continued the other, "the squire ordered him to betaken in; for he is a timbersome man everybody knows, and was afraidof drawing himself into a scrape; and there the bastard was bred up,and fed, and cloathified all to the world like any gentleman; andthere he got one of the servant-maids with child, and persuaded her toswear it to the squire himself; and afterwards he broke the arm of oneMr Thwackum a clergyman, only because he reprimanded him for followingwhores; and afterwards he snapt a pistol at Mr Blifil behind his back;and once, when Squire Allworthy was sick, he got a drum, and beat itall over the house to prevent him from sleeping; and twenty otherpranks he hath played, for all which, about four or five days ago,just before I left the country, the squire stripped him stark naked,and turned him out of doors."

  "And very justly too, I protest," cries Dowling; "I would turn my ownson out of doors, if he was guilty of half as much. And pray what isthe name of this pretty gentleman?"

  "The name o' un?" answered Petty-fogger; "why, he is called ThomasJones."

  "Jones!" answered Dowling a little eagerly; "what, Mr Jones that livedat Mr Allworthy's? was that the gentleman that dined with us?"--"Thevery same," said the other. "I have heard of the gentleman," criesDowling, "often; but I never heard any ill character of him."--"And Iam sure," says Mrs Whitefield, "if half what this gentleman hath saidbe true, Mr Jones hath the most deceitful countenance I ever saw; forsure his looks promise something very different; and I must say, forthe little I have seen of him, he is as civil a well-bred man as youwould wish to converse with."

  Petty-fogger calling to mind that he had not been sworn, as he usuallywas, before he gave his evidence, now bound what he had declared withso many oaths and imprecations that the landlady's ears were shocked,and she put a stop to his swearing, by assuring him of her belief.Upon which he said, "I hope, madam, you imagine I would scorn to tellsuch things of any man, unless I knew them to be true. What interesthave I in taking away the reputation of a man who never injured me? Ipromise you every syllable of what I have said is fact, and the wholecountry knows it."

  As Mrs Whitefield had no reason to suspect that the petty-fogger hadany motive or temptation to abuse Jones, the reader cannot blame herfor believing what he so confidently affirmed with many oaths. Sheaccordingly gave up her skill in physiognomy, and hence-forwardsconceived so ill an opinion of her guest, that she heartily wished himout of her house.

  This dislike was now farther increased by a report which Mr Whitefieldmade from the kitchen, where Partridge had informed the company, "Thatthough he carried the knapsack, and contented himself with stayingamong servants, while Tom Jones (as he called him) was regaling in theparlour, he was not his servant, but only a friend and companion, andas good a gentleman as Mr Jones himself."

  Dowling sat all this while silent, biting his fingers, making faces,grinning, and looking wonderfully arch; at last he opened his lips,and protested that the gentleman looked like another sort of man. Hethen called for his bill with the utmost haste, declared he must be atHereford that evening, lamented his great hurry of business, andwished he could divide himself into twenty pieces, in order to be atonce in twenty places.

  The petty-fogger now likewise departed, and then Jones desired thefavour of Mrs Whitefield's company to drink tea with him; but sherefused, and with a manner so different from that with which she hadrece
ived him at dinner, that it a little surprized him. And now hesoon perceived her behaviour totally changed; for instead of thatnatural affability which we have before celebrated, she wore aconstrained severity on her countenance, which was so disagreeable toMr Jones, that he resolved, however late, to quit the house thatevening.

  He did indeed account somewhat unfairly for this sudden change; forbesides some hard and unjust surmises concerning female fickleness andmutability, he began to suspect that he owed this want of civility tohis want of horses; a sort of animals which, as they dirty no sheets,are thought in inns to pay better for their beds than their riders,and are therefore considered as the more desirable company; but MrsWhitefield, to do her justice, had a much more liberal way ofthinking. She was perfectly well-bred, and could be very civil to agentleman, though he walked on foot. In reality, she looked on ourheroe as a sorry scoundrel, and therefore treated him as such, forwhich not even Jones himself, had he known as much as the reader,could have blamed her; nay, on the contrary, he must have approved herconduct, and have esteemed her the more for the disrespect showntowards himself. This is indeed a most aggravating circumstance, whichattends depriving men unjustly of their reputation; for a man who isconscious of having an ill character, cannot justly be angry withthose who neglect and slight him; but ought rather to despise such asaffect his conversation, unless where a perfect intimacy must haveconvinced them that their friend's character hath been falsely andinjuriously aspersed.

  This was not, however, the case of Jones; for as he was a perfectstranger to the truth, so he was with good reason offended at thetreatment he received. He therefore paid his reckoning and departed,highly against the will of Mr Partridge, who having remonstrated muchagainst it to no purpose, at last condescended to take up his knapsackand to attend his friend.