History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter xiv.

  In which the Man of the Hill concludes his history.

  "Mr Watson," continued the stranger, "very freely acquainted me, thatthe unhappy situation of his circumstances, occasioned by a tide ofill luck, had in a manner forced him to a resolution of destroyinghimself.

  "I now began to argue very seriously with him, in opposition to thisheathenish, or indeed diabolical, principle of the lawfulness ofself-murder; and said everything which occurred to me on the subject;but, to my great concern, it seemed to have very little effect on him.He seemed not at all to repent of what he had done, and gave me reasonto fear he would soon make a second attempt of the like horrible kind.

  "When I had finished my discourse, instead of endeavouring to answermy arguments, he looked me stedfastly in the face, and with a smilesaid, `You are strangely altered, my good friend, since I rememberyou. I question whether any of our bishops could make a betterargument against suicide than you have entertained me with; but unlessyou can find somebody who will lend me a cool hundred, I must eitherhang, or drown, or starve; and, in my opinion, the last death is themost terrible of the three.'

  "I answered him very gravely that I was indeed altered since I hadseen him last. That I had found leisure to look into my follies and torepent of them. I then advised him to pursue the same steps; and atlast concluded with an assurance that I myself would lend him ahundred pound, if it would be of any service to his affairs, and hewould not put it into the power of a die to deprive him of it.

  "Mr Watson, who seemed almost composed in slumber by the former partof my discourse, was roused by the latter. He seized my hand eagerly,gave me a thousand thanks, and declared I was a friend indeed; addingthat he hoped I had a better opinion of him than to imagine he hadprofited so little by experience, as to put any confidence in thosedamned dice which had so often deceived him. `No, no,' cries he; `letme but once handsomely be set up again, and if ever Fortune makes abroken merchant of me afterwards, I will forgive her.'

  "I very well understood the language of setting up, and brokenmerchant. I therefore said to him, with a very grave face, Mr Watson,you must endeavour to find out some business or employment, by whichyou may procure yourself a livelihood; and I promise you, could I seeany probability of being repaid hereafter, I would advance a muchlarger sum than what you have mentioned, to equip you in any fair andhonourable calling; but as to gaming, besides the baseness andwickedness of making it a profession, you are really, to my ownknowledge, unfit for it, and it will end in your certain ruin.

  "`Why now, that's strange,' answered he; `neither you, nor any of myfriends, would ever allow me to know anything of the matter, and yet Ibelieve I _am_ as good a hand at every game as any of you all; and Iheartily wish I was to play with you only for your whole fortune: Ishould desire no better sport, and I would let you name your game intothe bargain: but come, my dear boy, have you the hundred in yourpocket?"

  "I answered I had only a bill for L50, which I delivered him, andpromised to bring him the rest next morning; and after giving him alittle more advice, took my leave.

  "I was indeed better than my word; for I returned to him that veryafternoon. When I entered the room, I found him sitting up in his bedat cards with a notorious gamester. This sight, you will imagine,shocked me not a little; to which I may add the mortification ofseeing my bill delivered by him to his antagonist, and thirty guineasonly given in exchange for it.

  "The other gamester presently quitted the room, and then Watsondeclared he was ashamed to see me; `but,' says he, `I find luck runsso damnably against me, that I will resolve to leave off play forever. I have thought of the kind proposal you made me ever since, andI promise you there shall be no fault in me, if I do not put it inexecution.'

  "Though I had no great faith in his promises, I produced him theremainder of the hundred in consequence of my own; for which he gaveme a note, which was all I ever expected to see in return for mymoney.

  "We were prevented from any further discourse at present by thearrival of the apothecary; who, with much joy in his countenance, andwithout even asking his patient how he did, proclaimed there was greatnews arrived in a letter to himself, which he said would shortly bepublic, `That the Duke of Monmouth was landed in the west with a vastarmy of Dutch; and that another vast fleet hovered over the coast ofNorfolk, and was to make a descent there, in order to favour theduke's enterprize with a diversion on that side.'

  "This apothecary was one of the greatest politicians of his time. Hewas more delighted with the most paultry packet, than with the bestpatient, and the highest joy he was capable of, he received fromhaving a piece of news in his possession an hour or two sooner thanany other person in the town. His advices, however, were seldomauthentic; for he would swallow almost anything as a truth--a humourwhich many made use of to impose upon him.

  "Thus it happened with what he at present communicated; for it wasknown within a short time afterwards that the duke was really landed,but that his army consisted only of a few attendants; and as to thediversion in Norfolk, it was entirely false.

  "The apothecary staid no longer in the room than while he acquaintedus with his news; and then, without saying a syllable to his patienton any other subject, departed to spread his advices all over thetown.

  "Events of this nature in the public are generally apt to eclipse allprivate concerns. Our discourse therefore now became entirelypolitical.[*] For my own part, I had been for some time very seriouslyaffected with the danger to which the Protestant religion was sovisibly exposed under a Popish prince, and thought the apprehension ofit alone sufficient to justify that insurrection; for no real securitycan ever be found against the persecuting spirit of Popery, when armedwith power, except the depriving it of that power, as woefulexperience presently showed. You know how King James behaved aftergetting the better of this attempt; how little he valued either hisroyal word, or coronation oath, or the liberties and rights of hispeople. But all had not the sense to foresee this at first; andtherefore the Duke of Monmouth was weakly supported; yet all couldfeel when the evil came upon them; and therefore all united, at last,to drive out that king, against whose exclusion a great party among ushad so warmly contended during the reign of his brother, and for whomthey now fought with such zeal and affection."

  "What you say," interrupted Jones, "is very true; and it has oftenstruck me, as the most wonderful thing I ever read of in history, thatso soon after this convincing experience which brought our wholenation to join so unanimously in expelling King James, for thepreservation of our religion and liberties, there should be a partyamong us mad enough to desire the placing his family again on thethrone." "You are not in earnest!" answered the old man; "there can beno such party. As bad an opinion as I have of mankind, I cannotbelieve them infatuated to such a degree. There may be some hot-headedPapists led by their priests to engage in this desperate cause, andthink it a holy war; but that Protestants, that are members of theChurch of England, should be such apostates, such _felos de se_, Icannot believe it; no, no, young man, unacquainted as I am with whathas past in the world for these last thirty years, I cannot be soimposed upon as to credit so foolish a tale; but I see you have a mindto sport with my ignorance."--"Can it be possible," replied Jones,"that you have lived so much out of the world as not to know thatduring that time there have been two rebellions in favour of the sonof King James, one of which is now actually raging in the very heartof the kingdom." At these words the old gentleman started up, and in amost solemn tone of voice, conjured Jones by his Maker to tell him ifwhat he said was really true; which the other as solemnly affirming,he walked several turns about the room in a profound silence, thencried, then laughed, and at last fell down on his knees, and blessedGod, in a loud thanksgiving prayer, for having delivered him from allsociety with human nature, which could be capable of such monstrousextravagances. After which, being reminded by Jones that he had brokeoff his story, he resumed it again in this manner:--

  "As mankind, in the days I w
as speaking of, was not yet arrived atthat pitch of madness which I find they are capable of now, and which,to be sure, I have only escaped by living alone, and at a distancefrom the contagion, there was a considerable rising in favour ofMonmouth; and my principles strongly inclining me to take the samepart, I determined to join him; and Mr Watson, from different motivesconcurring in the same resolution (for the spirit of a gamester willcarry a man as far upon such an occasion as the spirit of patriotism),we soon provided ourselves with all necessaries, and went to the dukeat Bridgewater.

  "The unfortunate event of this enterprize, you are, I conclude, aswell acquainted with as myself. I escaped, together with Mr Watson,from the battle at Sedgemore, in which action I received a slightwound. We rode near forty miles together on the Exeter road, and thenabandoning our horses, scrambled as well as we could through thefields and bye-roads, till we arrived at a little wild hut on acommon, where a poor old woman took all the care of us she could, anddressed my wound with salve, which quickly healed it."

  "Pray, sir, where was the wound?" says Partridge. The strangersatisfied him it was in his arm, and then continued his narrative."Here, sir," said he, "Mr Watson left me the next morning, in order,as he pretended, to get us some provision from the town of Collumpton;but--can I relate it, or can you believe it?--this Mr Watson, thisfriend, this base, barbarous, treacherous villain, betrayed me to aparty of horse belonging to King James, and at his return delivered meinto their hands.

  "The soldiers, being six in number, had now seized me, and wereconducting me to Taunton gaol; but neither my present situation, northe apprehensions of what might happen to me, were half so irksome tomy mind as the company of my false friend, who, having surrenderedhimself, was likewise considered as a prisoner, though he was bettertreated, as being to make his peace at my expense. He at firstendeavoured to excuse his treachery; but when he received nothing butscorn and upbraiding from me, he soon changed his note, abused me asthe most atrocious and malicious rebel, and laid all his own guilt tomy charge, who, as he declared, had solicited, and even threatenedhim, to make him take up arms against his gracious as well as lawfulsovereign.

  "This false evidence (for in reality he had been much the forwarder ofthe two) stung me to the quick, and raised an indignation scarceconceivable by those who have not felt it. However, fortune at lengthtook pity on me; for as we were got a little beyond Wellington, in anarrow lane, my guards received a false alarm, that near fifty of theenemy were at hand; upon which they shifted for themselves, and leftme and my betrayer to do the same. That villain immediately ran fromme, and I am glad he did, or I should have certainly endeavoured,though I had no arms, to have executed vengeance on his baseness.

  "I was now once more at liberty; and immediately withdrawing from thehighway into the fields, I travelled on, scarce knowing which way Iwent, and making it my chief care to avoid all public roads and alltowns--nay, even the most homely houses; for I imagined every humancreature whom I saw desirous of betraying me.

  "At last, after rambling several days about the country, during whichthe fields afforded me the same bed and the same food which naturebestows on our savage brothers of the creation, I at length arrived atthis place, where the solitude and wildness of the country invited meto fix my abode. The first person with whom I took up my habitationwas the mother of this old woman, with whom I remained concealed tillthe news of the glorious revolution put an end to all my apprehensionsof danger, and gave me an opportunity of once more visiting my ownhome, and of enquiring a little into my affairs, which I soon settledas agreeably to my brother as to myself; having resigned everything tohim, for which he paid me the sum of a thousand pounds, and settled onme an annuity for life.

  "His behaviour in this last instance, as in all others, was selfishand ungenerous. I could not look on him as my friend, nor indeed didhe desire that I should; so I presently took my leave of him, as wellas of my other acquaintance; and from that day to this, my history islittle better than a blank."

  "And is it possible, sir," said Jones, "that you can have resided herefrom that day to this?"--"O no, sir," answered the gentleman; "I havebeen a great traveller, and there are few parts of Europe with which Iam not acquainted." "I have not, sir," cried Jones, "the assurance toask it of you now; indeed it would be cruel, after so much breath asyou have already spent: but you will give me leave to wish for somefurther opportunity of hearing the excellent observations which a manof your sense and knowledge of the world must have made in so long acourse of travels."--"Indeed, young gentleman," answered the stranger,"I will endeavour to satisfy your curiosity on this head likewise, asfar as I am able." Jones attempted fresh apologies, but was prevented;and while he and Partridge sat with greedy and impatient ears, thestranger proceeded as in the next chapter.

  [*] _The rest of this paragraph and the two following paragraphs in the first edition were as follows_:

  "For my own part, I had been for some time very seriously affected with the danger to which the Protestant religion was so visibly exposed, that nothing but the immediate interposition of Providence seemed capable of preserving it; for King James had indeed declared war against the Protestant cause. He had brought known papists into the army and attempted to bring them into the Church and into the University. Popish priests swarmed through the nation, appeared publicly in their habits, and boasted that they should shortly walk in procession through the streets. Our own clergy were forbid to preach against popery, and bishops were ordered to supend those who did; and to do the business at once an illegal ecclesiastical commission was erected, little inferior to an inquisition, of which, probably, it was intended to be the ringleader. Thus, as our duty to the king can never be called more than our second duty, he had discharged us from this by making it incompatible with our preserving the first, which is surely to heaven. Besides this, he had dissolved his subjects from their allegiance by breaking his Coronation Oath, to which their allegiance is annexed; for he had imprisoned bishops because they would not give up their religion, and turned out judges because they would not absolutely surrender the law into his hands; nay, he seized this himself, and when he claimed a dispensing power, he declared himself, in fact, as absolute as any tyrant ever was or can be. I have recapitulated these matters in full lest some of them should have been omitted in history; and I think nothing less than such provocations as I have here mentioned, nothing less than certain and imminent danger to their religion and liberties, can justify or even mitigate the dreadful sin of rebellion in any people."

  "I promise you, sir," says Jones, "all these facts, and more, I have read in history, but I will tell you a fact which is not yet recorded and of which I suppose you are ignorant. There is actually now a rebellion on foot in this kingdom in favour of the son of that very King James, a professed papist, more bigoted, if possible, than his father, and this carried on by Protestants against a king who hath never in one single instance made the least invasion on our liberties."

  "Prodigious indeed!" answered the stranger. "You tell me what would be incredible of a nation which did not deserve the character that Virgil gives of a woman, _varium et mutabile semper_. Surely this is to be unworthy of the care which Providence seems to have taken of us in the preservation of our religion against the powerful designs and constant machinations of Popery, a preservation so strange and unaccountable that I almost think we may appeal to it as to a miracle for the proof of its holiness. Prodigious indeed! A Protestant rebellion in favour of a popish prince! The folly of mankind is as wonderful as their knavery--But to conclude my story: I resolved to take arms in defence of my country, of my religion, and my liberty, and Mr. Watson joined in the same resolution. We soon provided ourselves with an necessaries and joined the Duke at Bridgewater."

  "The unfortunate event of this enterprise you are perhaps better acquainted with than myself. I escaped together with Mr. Watson from the battle at Sedgemore,...