opposing that doctrine concerning the meaning of the word charity,
which hath been seen in the preceding chapter, than our good man.
Indeed, he was equally intitled to this virtue in either sense; for as
no man was ever more sensible of the wants, or more ready to relieve
the distresses of others, so none could be more tender of their
characters, or slower to believe anything to their disadvantage.
Scandal, therefore, never found any access to his table; for as it
hath been long since observed that you may know a man by his
companions, so I will venture to say, that, by attending to the
conversation at a great man's table, you may satisfy yourself of his
religion, his politics, his taste, and indeed of his entire
disposition: for though a few odd fellows will utter their own
sentiments in all places, yet much the greater part of mankind have
enough of the courtier to accommodate their conversation to the
taste and inclination of their superiors.
But to return to Mrs. Wilkins, who, having executed her commission
with great dispatch, though at fifteen miles distance, brought back
such confirmation of the schoolmaster's guilt, that Mr. Allworthy
determined to send for the criminal, and examine him viva voce. Mr.
Partridge, therefore, was summoned to attend, in order to his
defence (if he could make any) against this accusation.
At the time appointed, before Mr. Allworthy himself, at
Paradise-hall, came as well the said Partridge, with Anne, his wife,
as Mrs. Wilkins his accuser.
And now Mr. Allworthy being seated in the chair of justice, Mr.
Partridge was brought before him. Having heard his accusation from the
mouth of Mrs. Wilkins, he pleaded not guilty, making many vehement
protestations of his innocence.
Mrs. Partridge was then examined, who, after a modest apology for
being obliged to speak the truth against her husband, related all
the circumstances with which the reader hath already been
acquainted; and at last concluded with her husband's confession of his
guilt.
Whether she had forgiven him or no, I will not venture to determine;
but it is certain she was an unwilling witness in this cause; and it
is probable from certain other reasons, would never have been
brought to depose as she did, had not Mrs. Wilkins, with great art,
fished all out of her at her own house, and had she not indeed made
promises, in Mr. Allworthy's name, that the punishment of her
husband should not be such as might anywise affect his family.
Partridge still persisted in asserting his innocence, though he
admitted he had made the above-mentioned confession; which he
however endeavoured to account for, by protesting that he was forced
into it by the continued importunity she used: who vowed, that, as she
was sure of his guilt, she would never leave tormenting him till he
had owned it; and faithfully promised, that, in such case, she would
never mention it to him more. Hence, he said, he had been induced
falsely to confess himself guilty, though he was innocent; and that he
believed he should have confest a murder from the same motive.
Mrs. Partridge could not bear this imputation with patience; and
having no other remedy in the present place but tears, she called
forth a plentiful assistance from them, and then addressing herself to
Mr. Allworthy, she said (or rather cried), "May it please your
worship, there never was any poor woman so injured as I am by that
base man; for this is not the only instance of his falsehood to me.
No, may it please your worship, he hath injured my bed many's the good
time and often. I could have put up with his drunkenness and neglect
of his business, if he had not broke one of the sacred commandments.
Besides, if it had been out of doors I had not mattered it so much;
but with my own servant, in my own house, under my own roof, to defile
my own chaste bed, which to be sure he hath, with his beastly stinking
whores. Yes, you villain, you have defiled my own bed, you have; and
then you have charged me with bullocking you into owning the truth. Is
it very likely, an't please your worship, that I should bullock him? I
have marks enow about my body to show of his cruelty to me. If you had
been a man, you villain, you would have scorned to injure a woman in
that manner. But you an't half a man, you know it. Nor have you been
half a husband to me. You need run after whores, you need, when I'm
sure-- And since he provokes me, I am ready, an't please your
worship, to take my bodily oath that I found them a-bed together.
What, you have forgot, I suppose, when you beat me into a fit, and
made the blood run down my forehead, because I only civilly taxed
you with adultery! but I can prove it by all my neighbours. You have
almost broke my heart, you have, you have."
Here Mr. Allworthy interrupted, and begged her to be pacified,
promising her that she should have justice; then turning to Partridge,
who stood aghast, one half of his wits being hurried away by
surprize and the other half by fear, he said he was sorry to see there
was so wicked a man in the world. He assured him that his
prevaricating and lying backward and forward was a great aggravation
of his guilt; for which the only atonement he could make was by
confession and repentance. He exhorted him, therefore, to begin by
immediately confessing the fact, and not to persist in denying what
was so plainly proved against him even by his own wife.
Here, reader, I beg your patience a moment, while I make a just
compliment to the great wisdom and sagacity of our law, which
refuses to admit the evidence of a wife for or against her husband.
This, says a certain learned author, who, I believe, was never
quoted before in any but a law-book, would be the means of creating an
eternal dissension between them. It would, indeed, be the means of
much perjury, and of much whipping, fining, imprisoning, transporting,
and hanging.
Partridge stood a while silent, till, being bid to speak, he said he
had already spoken the truth, and appealed to Heaven for his
innocence, and lastly to the girl herself, whom he desired his worship
immediately to send for; for he was ignorant, or at least pretended to
be so, that she had left that part of the country.
Mr. Allworthy, whose natural love of justice, joined to his coolness
of temper, made him always a most patient magistrate in hearing all
the witnesses which an accused person could produce in his defence,
agreed to defer his final determination of this matter till the
arrival of Jenny, for whom he immediately dispatched a messenger;
and then having recommended peace between Partridge and his wife
(though he addressed himself chiefly to the wrong person), he
appointed them to attend again the third day; for he had sent Jenny
a whole day's journey from his own house.
At the appointed time the parties all assembled, when the
messenger returning brought word, that Jenny was not to be found;
for that she had left her habitation a few days before, in company
with a recruiting officer.
Mr. Allworthy then declared that the evidence of such a slut as
she appeared to be would have deserved no credit; but he said he could
not help thinking that, had she been present, and would have
declared the truth, she must have confirmed what so many
circumstances, together with his own confession, and the declaration
of his wife that she had caught her husband in the fact, did
sufficiently prove. He therefore once more exhorted Partridge to
confess; but he still avowing his innocence, Mr. Allworthy declared
himself satisfied of his guilt, and that he was too bad a man to
receive any encouragement from him. He therefore deprived him of his
annuity, and recommended repentance to him on account of another
world, and industry to maintain himself and his wife in this.
There were not, perhaps, many more unhappy persons than poor
Partridge. He had lost the best part of his income by the evidence
of his wife, and yet was daily upbraided by her for having, among
other things, been the occasion of depriving her of that benefit;
but such was his fortune, and he was obliged to submit to it.
Though I called him poor Partridge in the last paragraph, I would
have the reader rather impute that epithet to the compassion in my
temper than conceive it to be any declaration of his innocence.
Whether he was innocent or not will perhaps appear hereafter; but if
the historic muse hath entrusted me with any secrets, I will by no
means be guilty of discovering them till she shall give me leave.
Here therefore the reader must suspend his curiosity. Certain it
is that, whatever was the truth of the case, there was evidence more
than sufficient to convict him before Allworthy; indeed, much less
would have satisfied a bench of justices on an order of bastardy;
and yet, notwithstanding the positiveness of Mrs. Partridge, who would
have taken the sacrament upon the matter, there is a possibility
that the schoolmaster was entirely innocent: for though it appeared
clear on comparing the time when Jenny departed from Little Baddington
with that of her delivery that she had there conceived this infant,
yet it by no means followed of necessity that Partridge must have been
its father; for, to omit other particulars, there was in the same
house a lad near eighteen, between whom and Jenny there had
subsisted sufficient intimacy to found a reasonable suspicion; and
yet, so blind is jealousy, this circumstance never once entered into
the head of the enraged wife.
Whether Partridge repented or not, according to Mr. Allworthy's
advice, is not so apparent. Certain it is that his wife repented
heartily of the evidence she had given against him: especially when
she found Mrs. Deborah had deceived her, and refused to make any
application to Mr. Allworthy on her behalf. She had, however, somewhat
better success with Mrs. Blifil, who was, as the reader must have
perceived, a much better-tempered woman, and very kindly undertook
to solicit her brother to restore the annuity; in which, though
good-nature might have some share, yet a stronger and more natural
motive will appear in the next chapter.
These solicitations were nevertheless unsuccessful: for though Mr.
Allworthy did not think, with some late writers, that mercy consists
only in punishing offenders; yet he was as far from thinking that it
is proper to this excellent quality to pardon great criminals
wantonly, without any reason whatever. Any doubtfulness of the fact,
or any circumstance of mitigation, was never disregarded: but the
petitions of an offender, or the intercessions of others, did not in
the least affect him. In a word, he never pardoned because the
offender himself, or his friends, were unwilling that he should be
punished.
Partridge and his wife were therefore both obliged to submit to
their fate; which was indeed severe enough: for so far was he from
doubling his industry on the account of his lessened income, that he
did in a manner abandon himself to despair; and as he was by nature
indolent, that vice now increased upon him, which means he lost the
little school he had; so that neither his wife nor himself would
have had any bread to eat, had not the charity of some good
Christian interposed, and provided them with what was just
sufficient for their sustenance.
As this support was conveyed to them by an unknown hand, they
imagined, and so, I doubt not, will the reader, that Mr. Allworthy
himself was their secret benefactor; who, though he would not openly
encourage vice, could yet privately relieve the distresses of the
vicious themselves, when these became too exquisite and
disproportionate to their demerit. In which light their wretchedness
appeared now to Fortune herself; for she at length took pity on this
miserable couple, and considerably lessened the wretched state of
Partridge, by putting a final end to that of his wife, who soon
after caught the small-pox, and died.
The justice which Mr. Allworthy had executed on Partridge at first
met with universal approbation; but no sooner had he felt its
consequences, than his neighbours began to relent, and to
compassionate his case; and presently after, to blame that as rigour
and severity which they before called justice. They now exclaimed
against punishing in cold blood, and sang forth the praises of mercy
and forgiveness.
These cries were considerably increased by the death of Mrs.
Partridge, which, though owing to the distemper above mentioned, which
is no consequence of poverty or distress, many were not ashamed to
impute to Mr. Allworthy's severity, or, as they now termed it,
cruelty.
Partridge having now lost his wife, his school, and his annuity, and
the unknown person having now discontinued the last-mentioned charity,
resolved to change the scene, and left the country, where he was in
danger of starving, with the universal compassion of all his
neighbours.
Chapter 7
A short sketch of that felicity which prudent couples may extract
from hatred: with a short apology for those people who overlook
imperfections in their friends
Though the captain had effectually demolished poor Partridge, yet
had he not reaped the harvest he hoped for, which was to turn the
foundling out of Mr. Allworthy's house.
On the contrary, that gentleman grew every day fonder of little
Tommy, as if he intended to counterbalance his severity to the
father with extraordinary fondness and affection towards the son.
This a good deal soured the captain's temper, as did all the other
daily instances of Mr. Allworthy's generosity; for he looked on all
such largesses to be diminutions of his own wealth.
In this, we have said, he did not agree with his wife; nor,
indeed, in anything else: for though an affection placed on the
understanding is, by many wise persons, thought more durable than that
which is founded on beauty, yet it happened otherwise in the present
case. Nay, the understandings of this couple were their principal bone
