To deal plainly with the Reader, the Captain, ever since his Arrival, at least from the Moment his Brother had proposed the Match to him, long before he had discovered any flattering Symptoms in Miss Bridget, had been greatly enamoured; that is to say, of Mr. Allworthy’s House and Gardens, and of his Lands, Tenements and Hereditaments; of all which the Captain was so passionately fond, that he would most probably have contracted Marriage with them, had he been obliged to have taken the Witch of Endor3 into the Bargain.
As Mr. Allworthy therefore had declared to the Doctor, that he never intended to take a second Wife, as his Sister was his nearest Relation, and as the Doctor had fished out that his Intentions were to make any Child of hers his Heir, which indeed the Law, without his Interposition, would have done for him; the Doctor and his Brother thought it an Act of Benevolence to give Being to a human Creature, who would be so plentifully provided with the most essential Means of Happiness. The whole Thoughts therefore of both the Brothers were how to engage the Affections of this amiable Lady.
But Fortune, who is a tender Parent, and often doth more for her favourite Offspring than either they deserve or wish, had been so industrious for the Captain, that whilst he was laying Schemes to execute his Purpose, the Lady conceived the same Desires with himself, and was on her Side contriving how to give the Captain proper Encouragement, without appearing too forward; for she was a strict Observer of all Rules of Decorum. In this, however, she easily succeeded; for as the Captain was always on the Look-out, no Glance, Gesture, or Word escaped him.
The Satisfaction which the Captain received from the kind Behaviour of Miss Bridget, was not a little abated by his Apprehensions of Mr. Allworthy; for, notwithstanding his disinterested Professions, the Captain imagined he would, when he came to act, follow the Example of the rest of the World, and refuse his Consent to a Match, so disadvantageous, in point of Interest, to his Sister. From what Oracle he received this Opinion, I shall leave the Reader to determine; but, however he came by it, it strangely perplexed him, how to regulate his Conduct so as at once to convey his Affection to the Lady, and to conceal it from her Brother. He, at length, resolved to take all private Opportunities of making his Addresses; but in the Presence of Mr. Allworthy to be as reserved, and as much upon his Guard, as was possible; and this Conduct was highly approved by the Brother.
He soon found Means to make his Addresses, in express Terms, to his Mistress, from whom he received an Answer in the proper Form, viz. the Answer which was first made some thousands of Years ago, and which hath been handed down by Tradition from Mother to Daughter ever since. If I was to translate this into Latin, I should render it by these two Words, Nolo Episcopari. A Phrase likewise of immemorial Use on another Occasion.4
The Captain, however he came by his Knowledge, perfectly well understood the Lady; and very soon after repeated his Application, with more Warmth and Earnestness than before, and was again, according to due Form, rejected: But as he had increased in the Eagerness of his Desires, so the Lady, with the same Propriety, decreased in the Violence of her Refusal.
Not to tire the Reader, by leading him thro’ every Scene of this Courtship, (which, tho’, in the Opinion of a certain great Author,5 it is the pleasantest Scene of Life to the Actor, is, perhaps, as dull and tiresome as any whatever to the Audience) the Captain made his Advances in Form, the Citadel was defended in Form, and at length, in proper Form, surrendered at Discretion.
During this whole Time, which filled the Space of near a Month, the Captain preserved great Distance of Behaviour to his Lady, in the Presence of the Brother; and the more he succeeded with her in private, the more reserved was he in public. And as for the Lady, she had no sooner secured her Lover, than she behaved to him before Company with the highest Degree of Indifference; so that Mr. Allworthy must have had the Insight of the Devil (or perhaps some of his worse Qualities) to have entertained the least Suspicion of what was going forward.
CHAPTER XII.
Containing what the Reader may, perhaps, expect to find in it.
In all Bargains, whether to fight or to marry, or concerning any other such Business, little previous Ceremony is required, to bring the Matter to an Issue, when both Parties are really in earnest. This was the Case at present, and in less than a Month the Captain and his Lady were Man and Wife.
The great Concern now was to break the Matter to Mr. All-worthy; and this was undertaken by the Doctor.
One Day then as Allworthy was walking in his Garden, the Doctor came to him, and, with great Gravity of Aspect, and all the Concern which he could possibly affect in his Countenance, said, ‘I am come, Sir, to impart an Affair to you of the utmost Consequence; but how shall I mention to you, what it almost distracts me to think of!’ He then launched forth into the most bitter Invectives both against Men and Women; accusing the former of having no Attachment but to their Interest, and the latter of being so addicted to vicious Inclinations, that they could never be safely trusted with one of the other Sex. ‘Could I,’ said he, ‘Sir, have suspected, that a Lady of such Prudence, such Judgment, such Learning, should indulge so indiscreet a Passion; or could I have imagined, that my Brother—Why do I call him so? He is no longer a Brother of mine’—
‘Indeed but he is,’ said Allworthy, ‘and a Brother of mine too.’— ‘Bless me, Sir,’ said the Doctor, ‘do you know the shocking Affair?’—‘Look’ee, Mr. Blifil,’ answered the good Man, ‘it hath been my constant Maxim in Life, to make the best of all Matters which happen. My Sister, tho’ many Years younger than I, is at least old enough to be at the Age of Discretion. Had he imposed on a Child, I should have been more averse to have forgiven him; but a Woman, upwards of thirty, must certainly be supposed to know what will make her most happy. She hath married a Gentleman, tho’ perhaps not quite her Equal in Fortune; and if he hath any Perfections in her Eye, which can make up that Deficiency, I see no Reason why I should object to her Choice of her own Happiness; which I, no more than herself, imagine to consist only in immense Wealth. I might, perhaps, from the many Declarations I have made, of complying with almost any Proposal, have expected to have been consulted on this Occasion; but these Matters are of a very delicate Nature, and the Scruples of Modesty, perhaps, are not to be overcome. As to your Brother, I have really no Anger against him at all. He hath no Obligation to me, nor do I think he was under any Necessity of asking my Consent, since the Woman is, as I have said, Sui Juris,1 and of a proper Age to be entirely answerable only to herself for her Conduct.’
The Doctor accused Mr. Allworthy of too great Lenity, repeated his Accusations against his Brother, and declared that he should never more be brought either to see, or to own him for his Relation. He then launched forth into a Panegyric on Allworthy’s Goodness; into the highest Encomiums on his Friendship; and concluded by saying, he should never forgive his Brother for having put the Place which he bore in that Friendship to a Hazard.
Allworthy thus answered: ‘Had I conceived any Displeasure against your Brother, I should never have carried that Resentment to the Innocent: But, I assure you, I have no such Displeasure. Your Brother appears to me to be a Man of Sense and Honour. I do not disapprove the Taste of my Sister; nor will I doubt but that she is equally the Object of his Inclinations. I have always thought Love the only Foundation of Happiness in a married State; as it can only produce that high and tender Friendship which should always be the Cement of this Union; and, in my Opinion, all those Marriages which are contracted from other Motives, are greatly criminal; they are a Profanation of a most holy Ceremony, and generally end in Disquiet and Misery: For surely we may call it a Profanation, to convert this most sacred Institution into a wicked Sacrifice to Lust or Avarice: And what better can be said of those Matches to which Men are induced merely by the Consideration of a beautiful Person, or a great Fortune!
‘To deny that Beauty is an agreeable Object to the Eye, and even worthy some Admiration, would be false and foolish. Beautiful is an Epithet often used in Scripture, and a
lways mentioned with Honour. It was my own Fortune to marry a Woman whom the World thought handsome, and I can truly say, I liked her the better on that Account. But, to make this the sole Consideration of Marriage, to lust after it so violently as to overlook all Imperfections for its Sake, or to require it so absolutely as to reject and disdain Religion, Virtue, and Sense, which are Qualities, in their Nature, of much higher Perfection, only because an Elegance of Person is wanting; this is surely inconsistent, either with a wise Man or a good Christian. And it is, perhaps, being too charitable to conclude, that such Persons mean any thing more by their Marriage, than to please their carnal Appetites; for the Satisfaction of which, we are taught, it was not ordained.
‘In the next Place, with Respect to Fortune. Worldly Prudence, perhaps, exacts some Consideration on this Head; nor will I absolutely and altogether condemn it. As the World is constituted, the Demands of a married State, and the Care of Posterity, require some little Regard to what we call Circumstances. Yet this Provision is greatly encreased, beyond what is really necessary, by Folly and Vanity, which create abundantly more Wants than Nature. Equipage for the Wife, and large Fortunes for the Children, are by Custom enrolled in the List of Necessaries; and, to procure these, every Thing truly solid and sweet, and virtuous and religious, are neglected and overlooked.
‘And this in many Degrees; the last and greatest of which seems scarce distinguishable from Madness. I mean, where Persons of immense Fortunes contract themselves to those who are, and must be, disagreeable to them; to Fools and Knaves, in order to increase an Estate, already larger even than the Demands of their Pleasures. Surely such Persons, if they will not be thought mad, must own, either that they are incapable of tasting the Sweets of the tenderest Friendship, or that they sacrifice the greatest Happiness of which they are capable, to the vain, uncertain, and senseless Laws of vulgar Opinion, which owe as well their Force, as their Foundation, to Folly.’
Here Allworthy concluded his Sermon, to which Blifil had listened with the profoundest Attention, though it cost him some Pains to prevent now and then a small Discomposure of his Muscles. He now praised every Period of what he had heard, with the Warmth of a young Divine, who hath the Honour to dine with a Bishop the same Day in which his Lordship hath mounted the Pulpit.
CHAPTER XIII.
Which concludes the first Book; with an Instance of Ingratitude, which, we hope, will appear unnatural.
The Reader, from what hath been said, may imagine, that the Reconciliation (if indeed it could be so called) was only Matter of Form; we shall therefore pass it over, and hasten to what must surely be thought Matter of Substance.
The Doctor had acquainted his Brother with what had past between Mr. Allworthy and him; and added, with a Smile, ‘I promise you, I paid you off; nay, I absolutely desired the good Gentleman not to forgive you: For you know, after he had made a Declaration in your Favour, I might, with Safety, venture on such a Request with a Person of his Temper; and I was willing, as well for your Sake as for my own, to prevent the least Possibility of a Suspicion.’
Captain Blifil took not the least Notice of this, at that Time; but he afterwards made a very notable Use of it.
One of the Maxims which the Devil, in a late Visit upon Earth, left to his Disciples, is, when once you are got up, to kick the Stool from under you. In plain English, when you have made your Fortune by the good Offices of a Friend, you are advised to discard him as soon as you can.
Whether the Captain acted by this Maxim, I will not positively determine; so far we may confidently say, that his Actions may be fairly derived from this diabolical Principle; and indeed it is difficult to assign any other Motive to them: For no sooner was he possessed of Miss Bridget, and reconciled to Allworthy, than he began to shew a Coldness to his Brother, which encreased daily; till at length it grew into Rudeness, and became very visible to every one.
The Doctor remonstrated to him privately concerning this Behaviour, but could obtain no other Satisfaction than the following plain Declaration: ‘If you dislike any thing in my Brother’s House, Sir, you know you are at Liberty to quit it.’ This strange, cruel, and almost unaccountable Ingratitude in the Captain, absolutely broke the poor Doctor’s Heart: For Ingratitude never so thoroughly pierces the human Breast, as when it proceeds from those in whose Behalf we have been guilty of Transgressions. Reflections on great and good Actions, however they are received or returned by those in whose Favour they are performed, always administer some Comfort to us; but what Consolation shall we receive under so biting a Calamity as the ungrateful Behaviour of our Friend, when our wounded Conscience at the same time flies in our Face, and upbraids us with having spotted it in the Service of one so worthless?
Mr. Allworthy himself spoke to the Captain in his Brother’s Behalf, and desired to know what Offence the Doctor had committed; when the hard-hearted Villain had the Baseness to say, that he should never forgive him for the Injury which he had endeavoured to do him in his Favour; which, he said, he had pumped out of him, and was such a Cruelty, that it ought not to be forgiven.
Allworthy spoke in very high Terms upon this Declaration, which, he said, became not a human Creature. He expressed, indeed, so much Resentment against an unforgiving Temper, that the Captain at last pretended to be convinced by his Arguments, and outwardly professed to be reconciled.
As for the Bride, she was now in her Honeymoon, and so passionately fond of her new Husband, that he never appeared, to her, to be in the wrong; and his Displeasure against any Person was a sufficient Reason for her Dislike to the same.
The Captain, at Mr. Allworthy’s Instance, was outwardly, as we have said, reconciled to his Brother, yet the same Rancour remained in his Heart; and he found so many Opportunities of giving him private Hints of this, that the House at last grew insupportable to the poor Doctor; and he chose rather to submit to any Inconveniencies which he might encounter in the World, than longer to bear these cruel and ungrateful Insults, from a Brother for whom he had done so much.
He once intended to acquaint Allworthy with the whole; but he could not bring himself to submit to the Confession, by which he must take to his Share so great a Portion of Guilt. Besides, by how much the worse Man he represented his Brother to be, so much the greater would his own Offence appear to Allworthy, and so much the greater, he had Reason to imagine, would be his Resentment.
He feigned, therefore, some Excuse of Business for his Departure, and promised to return soon again; and took Leave of his Brother with so well-dissembled Content, that, as the Captain played his Part to the same Perfection, Allworthy remained well satisfied with the Truth of the Reconciliation.
The Doctor went directly to London, where he died soon after of a broken Heart; a Distemper which kills many more than is generally imagined, and would have a fair Title to a Place in the Bill of Mortality, did it not differ in one Instance from all other Diseases, viz. That no Physician can cure it.
Now, upon the most diligent Enquiry into the former Lives of these two Brothers, I find, besides the cursed and hellish Maxim of Policy above-mentioned, another Reason for the Captain’s Conduct: The Captain, besides what we have before said of him, was a Man of great Pride and Fierceness, and had always treated his Brother, who was of a different Complexion, and greatly deficient in both those Qualities, with the utmost Air of Superiority. The Doctor, however, had much the larger Share of Learning, and was by many reputed to have the better Understanding. This the Captain knew, and could not bear; for tho’ Envy is, at best, a very malignant Passion, yet is its Bitterness greatly heightened, by mixing with Contempt towards the same Object; and very much afraid I am, that whenever an Obligation is joined to these two, Indignation, and not Gratitude, will be the Product of all three.
BOOK II.
Containing Scenes of matrimonial Felicity in different Degrees of Life; and various other Transactions during the first two Years after the Marriage between Captain Blifil, and Miss Bridget Allworthy.
CHAPTER I.
Shewing what Kind of a History this is; what it is like, and what it is not like.
Tho’ we have properly enough entitled this our Work, a History, and not a Life; nor an Apology for a Life, as is more in Fashion;1 yet we intend in it rather to pursue the Method of those Writers, who profess to disclose the Revolutions of Countries, than to imitate the painful and voluminous Historian, who, to preserve the Regularity of his Series, thinks himself obliged to fill up as much Paper with the Detail of Months and Years in which nothing remarkable happened, as he employs upon those notable Æras when the greatest Scenes have been transacted on the human Stage.
Such Histories as these do, in reality, very much resemble a News-Paper, which consists of just the same Number of Words, whether there be any News in it or not. They may, likewise, be compared to a Stage-Coach, which performs constantly the same Course, empty as well as full. The Writer, indeed, seems to think himself obliged to keep even Pace with Time, whose Amanuensis he is; and, like his Master, travels as slowly through Centuries of monkish Dulness, when the World seems to have been asleep, as through that bright and busy Age so nobly distinguished by the excellent Latin Poet.
The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics) Page 12