History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter v.

  A dialogue between Mr Jones and the barber.

  This conversation passed partly while Jones was at dinner in hisdungeon, and partly while he was expecting the barber in the parlour.And, as soon as it was ended, Mr Benjamin, as we have said, attendedhim, and was very kindly desired to sit down. Jones then filling out aglass of wine, drank his health by the appellation of _doctissimetonsorum_. "_Ago tibi gratias, domine_" said the barber; and thenlooking very steadfastly at Jones, he said, with great gravity, andwith a seeming surprize, as if he had recollected a face he had seenbefore, "Sir, may I crave the favour to know if your name is notJones?" To which the other answered, "That it was."--"_Proh deum atquehominum fidem_!" says the barber; "how strangely things come to pass!Mr Jones, I am your most obedient servant. I find you do not know me,which indeed is no wonder, since you never saw me but once, and thenyou was very young. Pray, sir, how doth the good Squire Allworthy? howdoth _ille optimus omnium patronus_?"--"I find," said Jones, "you doindeed know me; but I have not the like happiness of recollectingyou."--"I do not wonder at that," cries Benjamin; "but I am surprizedI did not know you sooner, for you are not in the least altered. Andpray, sir, may I, without offence, enquire whither you are travellingthis way?"--"Fill the glass, Mr Barber," said Jones, "and ask no morequestions."--"Nay, sir," answered Benjamin, "I would not betroublesome; and I hope you don't think me a man of an impertinentcuriosity, for that is a vice which nobody can lay to my charge; but Iask pardon; for when a gentleman of your figure travels without hisservants, we may suppose him to be, as we say, _in casu incognito_,and perhaps I ought not to have mentioned your name."--"I own," saysJones, "I did not expect to have been so well known in this country asI find I am; yet, for particular reasons, I shall be obliged to you ifyou will not mention my name to any other person till I am gone fromhence."--"_Pauca verba_," answered the barber;" and I wish no otherhere knew you but myself; for some people have tongues; but I promiseyou I can keep a secret. My enemies will allow me that virtue."--"Andyet that is not the characteristic of your profession, Mr Barber,"answered Jones. "Alas! sir," replied Benjamin, "_Non si male nunc etolim sic erit_. I was not born nor bred a barber, I assure you. I havespent most of my time among gentlemen, and though I say it, Iunderstand something of gentility. And if you had thought me as worthyof your confidence as you have some other people, I should have shownyou I could have kept a secret better. I should not have degraded yourname in a public kitchen; for indeed, sir, some people have not usedyou well; for besides making a public proclamation of what you toldthem of a quarrel between yourself and Squire Allworthy, they addedlies of their own, things which I knew to be lies."--"You surprize megreatly," cries Jones. "Upon my word, sir," answered Benjamin, "I tellthe truth, and I need not tell you my landlady was the person. I amsure it moved me to hear the story, and I hope it is all false; for Ihave a great respect for you, I do assure you I have, and have hadever since the good-nature you showed to Black George, which wastalked of all over the country, and I received more than one letterabout it. Indeed, it made you beloved by everybody. You will pardonme, therefore; for it was real concern at what I heard made me askmany questions; for I have no impertinent curiosity about me: but Ilove good-nature and thence became _amoris abundantia erga te_."

  Every profession of friendship easily gains credit with the miserable;it is no wonder therefore, if Jones, who, besides his being miserable,was extremely open-hearted, very readily believed all the professionsof Benjamin, and received him into his bosom. The scraps of Latin,some of which Benjamin applied properly enough, though it did notsavour of profound literature, seemed yet to indicate somethingsuperior to a common barber; and so indeed did his whole behaviour.Jones therefore believed the truth of what he had said, as to hisoriginal and education; and at length, after much entreaty, he said,"Since you have heard, my friend, so much of my affairs, and seem sodesirous to know the truth, if you will have patience to hear it, Iwill inform you of the whole."--"Patience!" cries Benjamin, "that Iwill, if the chapter was never so long; and I am very much obliged toyou for the honour you do me."

  Jones now began, and related the whole history, forgetting only acircumstance or two, namely, everything which passed on that day inwhich he had fought with Thwackum; and ended with his resolution to goto sea, till the rebellion in the North had made him change hispurpose, and had brought him to the place where he then was.

  Little Benjamin, who had been all attention, never once interruptedthe narrative; but when it was ended he could not help observing, thatthere must be surely something more invented by his enemies, and toldMr Allworthy against him, or so good a man would never have dismissedone he had loved so tenderly, in such a manner. To which Jonesanswered, "He doubted not but such villanous arts had been made use ofto destroy him."

  And surely it was scarce possible for any one to have avoided makingthe same remark with the barber, who had not indeed heard from Jonesone single circumstance upon which he was condemned; for his actionswere not now placed in those injurious lights in which they had beenmisrepresented to Allworthy; nor could he mention those many falseaccusations which had been from time to time preferred against him toAllworthy: for with none of these he was himself acquainted. He hadlikewise, as we have observed, omitted many material facts in hispresent relation. Upon the whole, indeed, everything now appeared insuch favourable colours to Jones, that malice itself would have foundit no easy matter to fix any blame upon him.

  Not that Jones desired to conceal or to disguise the truth; nay, hewould have been more unwilling to have suffered any censure to fall onMr Allworthy for punishing him, than on his own actions for deservingit; but, in reality, so it happened, and so it always will happen; forlet a man be never so honest, the account of his own conduct will, inspite of himself, be so very favourable, that his vices will comepurified through his lips, and, like foul liquors well strained, willleave all their foulness behind. For though the facts themselves mayappear, yet so different will be the motives, circumstances, andconsequences, when a man tells his own story, and when his enemy tellsit, that we scarce can recognise the facts to be one and the same.

  Though the barber had drank down this story with greedy ears, he wasnot yet satisfied. There was a circumstance behind which hiscuriosity, cold as it was, most eagerly longed for. Jones hadmentioned the fact of his amour, and of his being the rival of Blifil,but had cautiously concealed the name of the young lady. The barber,therefore, after some hesitation, and many hums and hahs, at lastbegged leave to crave the name of the lady, who appeared to be theprincipal cause of all this mischief. Jones paused a moment, and thensaid, "Since I have trusted you with so much, and since, I am afraid,her name is become too publick already on this occasion, I will notconceal it from you. Her name is Sophia Western."

  "_Proh deum atque hominum fidem_! Squire Western hath a daughter growna woman!"--"Ay, and such a woman," cries Jones, "that the world cannotmatch. No eye ever saw anything so beautiful; but that is her leastexcellence. Such sense! such goodness! Oh, I could praise her forever, and yet should omit half her virtues!"--"Mr Western a daughtergrown up!" cries the barber: "I remember the father a boy; well,_Tempus edax rerum_."

  The wine being now at an end, the barber pressed very eagerly to behis bottle; but Jones absolutely refused, saying, "He had alreadydrank more than he ought: and that he now chose to retire to his room,where he wished he could procure himself a book."--"A book!" criesBenjamin; "what book would you have? Latin or English? I have somecurious books in both languages; such as _Erasmi Colloquia, Ovid deTristibus, Gradus ad Parnassum;_ and in English I have several of thebest books, though some of them are a little torn; but I have a greatpart of Stowe's Chronicle; the sixth volume of Pope's Homer; the thirdvolume of the Spectator; the second volume of Echard's Roman History;the Craftsman; Robinson Crusoe; Thomas a Kempis; and two volumes ofTom Brown's Works."

  "Those last," cries Jones, "are books I never saw, so if you pleaselend me one of those volumes." The barber as
sured him he would behighly entertained, for he looked upon the author to have been one ofthe greatest wits that ever the nation produced. He then stepped tohis house, which was hard by, and immediately returned; after which,the barber having received very strict injunctions of secrecy fromJones, and having sworn inviolably to maintain it, they separated; thebarber went home, and Jones retired to his chamber.