The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics)

by Henry Fielding

  These two Characters are not always received in the World with the different Regard which seems severally due to either; and which one would imagine Mankind, from Self-interest, should shew towards them. But perhaps there may be a political Reason for it: In finding one of a truly benevolent Disposition, Men may very reasonably suppose, they have found a Treasure, and be desirous of keeping it, like all other good Things, to themselves. Hence they may imagine, that to trumpet forth the Praises of such a Person, would, in the vulgar Phrase, be crying Roast-meat;3 and calling in Partakers of what they intend to apply solely to their own Use. If this Reason does not satisfy the Reader, I know no other Means of accounting for the little Respect which I have commonly seen paid to a Character which really does great Honour to Human Nature, and is productive of the highest Good to Society. But it was otherwise with Sophia. She honoured Tom Jones, and scorned Master Blifil, almost as soon as she knew the Meaning of those two Words.

  Sophia had been absent upwards of three Years with her Aunt; during all which Time she had seldom seen either of these young Gentlemen. She dined, however, once, together with her Aunt, at Mr. Allworthy’s. This was a few Days after the Adventure of the Partridge, before commemorated. Sophia heard the whole Story at Table, where she said nothing; nor indeed could her Aunt get many Words from her, as she returned home; but her Maid, when undressing her, happening to say, ‘Well, Miss, I suppose you have seen young Master Blifil To-day.’ She answered with much Passion, ‘I hate the Name of Master Blifil, as I do whatever is base and treacherous; and I wonder Mr. Allworthy would suffer that old barbarous Schoolmaster to punish a poor Boy so cruelly, for what was only the Effect of his Good-nature.’ She then recounted the Story to her Maid, and concluded with saying,—‘Don’t you think he is a Boy of a noble Spirit?’

  This young Lady was now returned to her Father; who gave her the Command of his House, and placed her at the upper End of his Table, where Tom (who for his great Love of Hunting was become a great Favourite of the Squire) often dined. Young Men of open, generous Dispositions are naturally inclined to Gallantry, which, if they have good Understandings, as was in reality Tom’s Case, exerts itself in an obliging, complaisant Behaviour to all Women in general. This greatly distinguished Tom from the boisterous Brutality of mere Country Squires on the one Hand; and from the solemn, and somewhat sullen, Deportment of Master Blifil on the other: And he began now, at Twenty, to have the Name of a pretty Fellow, among all the Women in the Neighbourhood.

  Tom behaved to Sophia with no Particularity, unless, perhaps, by shewing her a higher Respect than he paid to any other. This Distinction her Beauty, Fortune, Sense, and amiable Carriage, seemed to demand; but as to Design upon her Person he had none; for which we shall at present suffer the Reader to condemn him of Stupidity; but perhaps we shall be able indifferently well to account for it hereafter.

  Sophia, with the highest Degree of Innocence and Modesty, had a remarkable Sprightliness in her Temper. This was so greatly increased whenever she was in Company with Tom, that, had he not been very young and thoughtless, he must have observed it; or had not Mr. Western’s Thoughts been generally either in the Field, the Stable, or the Dog-kennel, it might have, perhaps, created some Jealousy in him: But so far was the good Gentleman from entertaining any such Suspicions, that he gave Tom every Opportunity with his Daughter which any Lover could have wished. And this Tom innocently improved to better Advantage, by following only the Dictates of his natural Gallantry and Good-nature, than he might, perhaps, have done, had he had the deepest Designs on the young Lady.

  But, indeed, it can occasion little Wonder, that this Matter escaped the Observation of others, since poor Sophia herself never remarked it, and her Heart was irretrievably lost before she suspected it was in Danger.

  Matters were in this Situation, when Tom one Afternoon, finding Sophia alone, began, after a short Apology, with a very serious Face, to acquaint her, that he had a Favour to ask of her, which he hoped her Goodness would comply with.

  Though neither the young Man’s Behaviour, nor indeed his Manner of opening this Business, were such as could give her any just Cause of suspecting he intended to make Love to her; yet, whether Nature whispered something into her Ear, or from what Cause it arose I will not determine, certain it is, some Idea of that Kind must have intruded itself; for her Colour forsook her Cheeks, her Limbs trembled, and her Tongue would have faultered, had Tom stopped for an Answer: But he soon relieved her from her Perplexity, by proceeding to inform her of his Request, which was to sollicit her Interest on Behalf of the Game-keeper, whose own Ruin, and that of a large Family, must be, he said, the Consequence of Mr. Western’s pursuing his Action against him.

  Sophia presently recovered her Confusion, and with a Smile full of Sweetness, said, ‘Is this the mighty Favour you asked with so much Gravity? I will do it with all my Heart. I really pity the poor Fellow, and no longer ago than Yesterday sent a small Matter to his Wife.’ This small Matter was one of her Gowns, some Linen, and ten Shillings in Money, of which Tom had heard, and it had, in reality, put this Sollicitation into his Head.

  Our Youth, now emboldened with his Success, resolved to push the Matter farther; and ventured even to beg her Recommendation of him to her Father’s Service; protesting that he thought him one of the honestest Fellows in the Country, and extremely well qualified for the Place of a Game-keeper, which luckily then happened to be vacant.

  Sophia answered; ‘Well, I will undertake this too; but I cannot promise you as much Success as in the former Part, which I assure you I will not quit my Father without obtaining. However, I will do what I can for the poor Fellow; for I sincerely look upon him and his Family as Objects of great Compassion.—And now, Mr. Jones, I must ask you a Favour.’—

  ‘A Favour! Madam, (cries Tom) if you knew the Pleasure you have given me in the Hopes of receiving a Command from you, you would think by mentioning it you did confer the greatest Favour on me; for by this dear Hand I would sacrifice my Life to oblige you.’

  He then snatched her Hand, and eagerly kissed it, which was the first Time his Lips had ever touched her. The Blood, which before had forsaken her Cheeks, now made her sufficient Amends, by rushing all over her Face and Neck with such Violence, that they became all of a scarlet Colour. She now first felt a Sensation to which she had been before a Stranger, and which, when she had Leisure to reflect on it, began to acquaint her with some Secrets, which the Reader, if he does not already guess them, will know in due Time.

  Sophia, as soon as she could speak, (which was not instantly) informed him, that the Favour she had to desire of him, was not to lead her Father through so many Dangers in Hunting; for that, from what she had heard, she was terribly frightened every Time they went out together, and expected some Day or other to see her Father brought home with broken Limbs. She therefore begged him, for her sake, to be more cautious; and, as he well knew Mr. Western would follow him, not to ride so madly, nor to take those dangerous Leaps for the future.

  Tom promised faithfully to obey her Commands; and, after thanking her for her kind Compliance with his Request, took his Leave, and departed highly charmed with his Success.

  Poor Sophia was charmed too; but in a very different Way. Her Sensations, however, the Reader’s Heart (if he or she have any) will better represent than I can, if I had as many Mouths as ever Poet wished for,4 to eat, I suppose, those many Dainties with which he was so plentifully provided.

  It was Mr. Western’s Custom every Afternoon, as soon as he was drunk,5 to hear his Daughter play on the Harpsichord: For he was a great Lover of Music, and perhaps, had he lived in Town, might have passed for a Connoisseur; for he always excepted against the finest Compositions of Mr. Handel.6 He never relished any Music but what was light and airy; and indeed his most favourite Tunes, were Old Sir Simon the King, St. George he was for England, Bobbing Joan, and some others.7

  His Daughter, tho’ she was a perfect Mistress of Music, and would never willingly have played any
but Handel’s, was so devoted to her Father’s Pleasure, that she learnt all those Tunes to oblige him. However, she would now and then endeavour to lead him into her own Taste, and when he required the Repetition of his Ballads, would answer with a ‘Nay, dear Sir;’ and would often beg him to suffer her to play something else.

  This Evening, however, when the Gentleman was retired from his Bottle, she played all his Favourites three Times over, without any Solicitation. This so pleased the good Squire, that he started from his Couch, gave his Daughter a Kiss, and swore her Hand was greatly improved. She took this Opportunity to execute her Promise to Tom, in which she succeeded so well, that the Squire declared, If she would give him t’other Bout of old Sir Simon, he would give the Game-keeper his Deputation8 the next Morning. Sir Simon was played again and again, till the Charms of the Music soothed Mr. Western to sleep.9 In the Morning Sophia did not fail to remind him of his Engagement; and his Attorney was immediately sent for, and ordered to stop any further Proceedings in the Action, and to make out the Deputation.

  Tom’s Success in this Affair soon began to ring over the Country, and various were the Censures past upon it. Some greatly applauding it as an Act of good Nature; others sneering, and saying, ‘No Wonder that one idle Fellow should love another.’ Young Blifil was greatly enraged at it. He had long hated Black George in the same Proportion as Jones delighted in him; not from any Offence which he had ever received, but from his great Love to Religion and Virtue: For Black George had the Reputation of a loose Kind of a Fellow. Blifil therefore represented this as flying in Mr. Allworthy’s Face; and declared with great Concern, that it was impossible to find any other Motive for doing Good to such a Wretch.

  Thwackum and Square likewise sung to the same Tune: They were now (especially the latter) become greatly jealous of young Jones with the Widow: For he now approached the Age of Twenty, was really a fine young Fellow, and that Lady, by her Encouragements to him, seemed daily more and more to think him so.

  Allworthy was not, however, moved with their Malice. He declared himself very well satisfied with what Jones had done. He said, the Perseverance and Integrity of his Friendship was highly commendable, and he wished he could see more frequent Instances of that Virtue.

  But Fortune, who seldom greatly relishes such Sparks as my Friend Tom, perhaps, because they do not pay more ardent Addresses to her, gave now a very different Turn to all his Actions, and shewed them to Mr. Allworthy in a Light far less agreeable than that Gentleman’s Goodness had hitherto seen them in.

  CHAPTER VI.

  An Apology for the Insensibility of Mr. Jones,

  to all the Charms of the lovely Sophia; in which possibly we

  may, in a considerable Degree, lower his Character

  in the Estimation of those Men of Wit and

  Gallantry, who approve the Heroes in most of

  our modern Comedies.

  There are two Sorts of People, who, I am afraid, have already conceived some Contempt for my Heroe, on Account of his Behaviour to Sophia. The former of these will blame his Prudence in neglecting an Opportunity to possess himself of Mr. Western’s Fortune; and the latter will no less despise him for his Backwardness to so fine a Girl, who seemed ready to fly into his Arms, if he would open them to receive her.

  Now, though I shall not, perhaps, be able absolutely to acquit him of either of these Charges; (for Want of Prudence admits of no Excuse; and what I shall produce against the latter Charge, will, I apprehend, be scarce satisfactory;) yet as Evidence may sometimes be offered in Mitigation, I shall set forth the plain Matter of Fact, and leave the whole to the Reader’s Determination.

  Mr. Jones had Somewhat about him, which, though I think Writers are not thoroughly agreed in its Name, doth certainly inhabit some human Breasts; whose Use is not so properly to distinguish Right from Wrong, as to prompt and incite them to the former, and to restrain and with-hold them from the latter.

  This Somewhat may be indeed resembled to the famous Trunk-maker in the Play-house:1 For whenever the Person who is possessed of it, doth what is right, no ravished or friendly Spectator is so eager, or so loud in his Applause; on the contrary, when he doth wrong, no Critic is so apt to hiss and explode him.

  To give a higher Idea of the Principle I mean, as well as one more familiar to the present Age; it may be considered as sitting on its Throne in the Mind, like the LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR of this Kingdom2 in his Court; where it presides, governs, directs, judges, acquits and condemns according to Merit and Justice; with a Knowledge which nothing escapes, a Penetration which nothing can deceive, and an Integrity which nothing can corrupt.

  This active Principle may perhaps be said to constitute the most essential Barrier between us, and our Neighbours the Brutes; for if there be some in the human Shape, who are not under any such Dominion, I chuse rather to consider them as Deserters from us to our Neighbours; among whom they will have the Fate of Deserters, and not be placed in the first Rank.

  Our Heroe, whether he derived it from Thwackum or Square I will not determine, was very strongly under the Guidance of this Principle: For though he did not always act rightly, yet he never did otherwise without feeling and suffering for it. It was this which taught him, that to repay the Civilities and little Friendships of Hospitality by robbing the House where you have received them, is to be the basest and meanest of Thieves. He did not think the Baseness of this Offence lessened by the Height of the Injury committed; on the contrary, if to steal another’s Plate3 deserved Death and Infamy, it seemed to him difficult to assign a Punishment adequate to the robbing a Man of his whole Fortune, and of his Child into the Bargain.

  This Principle therefore prevented him from any Thought of making his Fortune by such Means (for this, as I have said, is an active Principle, and doth not content itself with Knowledge or Belief only.) Had he been greatly enamoured of Sophia, he possibly might have thought otherwise; but give me Leave to say, there is great Difference between running away with a Man’s Daughter from the Motive of Love, and doing the same Thing from the Motive of Theft.

  Now though this young Gentleman was not insensible of the Charms of Sophia; tho’ he greatly liked her Beauty, and esteemed all her other Qualifications, she had made, however, no deep Impression on his Heart: For which, as it renders him liable to the Charge of Stupidity, or at least of Want of Taste, we shall now proceed to account.

  The Truth then is, his Heart was in the Possession of another Woman. Here I question not, but the Reader will be surprized at our long Taciturnity as to this Matter; and quite at a Loss to divine who this Woman was; since we have hitherto not dropt a Hint of any one likely to be a Rival to Sophia: For as to Mrs. Blifil, though we have been obliged to mention some Suspicions of her Affection for Tom, we have not hitherto given the least Latitude for imagining that he had any for her; and, indeed, I am sorry to say it, but the Youth of both Sexes are too apt to be deficient in their Gratitude, for that Regard with which Persons more advanced in Years are sometimes so kind to honour them.

  That the Reader may be no longer in Suspence, he will be pleased to remember, that we have often mentioned the Family of George Seagrim, (commonly called Black George, the Game-keeper) which consisted at present of a Wife and five Children.

  The second of these Children was a Daughter, whose Name was Molly, and who was esteemed one of the handsomest Girls in the whole Country.

  Congreve well says, There is in true Beauty something which vulgar Souls cannot admire;4 so can no Dirt or Rags hide this Something from those Souls which are not of the vulgar Stamp.

  The Beauty of this Girl made, however, no Impression on Tom, till she grew towards the Age of Sixteen, when Tom, who was near three Years older, began first to cast the Eyes of Affection upon her. And this Affection he had fixed on the Girl long before he could bring himself to attempt the Possession of her Person: For tho’ his Constitution urged him greatly to this, his Principles no less forcibly restrained him. To debauch a young Woman, however low her Condi
tion was, appeared to him a very heinous Crime; and the Good-will he bore the Father, with the Compassion he had for his Family, very strongly corroborated all such sober Reflections; so that he once resolved to get the better of his Inclinations, and he actually abstained three whole Months without ever going to Seagrim’s House, or seeing his Daughter.

  Now though Molly was, as we have said, generally thought a very fine Girl, and in reality she was so, yet her Beauty was not of the most amiable Kind. It had indeed very little of Feminine in it, and would have become a Man at least as well as a Woman; for, to say the Truth, Youth and florid Health had a very considerable Share in the Composition.

  Nor was her Mind more effeminate than her Person. As this was tall and robust, so was that bold and forward. So little had she of Modesty, that Jones had more Regard for her Virtue than she herself. And as most probably she liked Tom as well as he liked her; so when she perceived his Backwardness, she herself grew proportionably forward; and when she saw he had entirely deserted the House, she found Means of throwing herself in his Way, and behaved in such a Manner, that the Youth must have had very much, or very little of the Heroe, if her Endeavours had proved unsuccessful. In a Word, she soon triumphed over all the virtuous Resolutions of Jones: For though she behaved at last with all decent Reluctance, yet I rather chuse to attribute the Triumph to her; since, in Fact, it was her Design which succeeded.