say, fetched a deep sigh; which the other, observing, cried,
"Heyday! why, thou art not in love, I hope! Had I imagined my
stories would have affected you, I promise you should never have heard
them." "O my dear friend!" cries Jones, "I am so entangled with this
woman, that I know not how to extricate myself. In love, indeed! no,
my friend, but I am under obligations to her, and very great ones.
Since you know so much, I will be very explicit with you. It is owing,
perhaps, solely to her, that I have not, before this, wanted a bit
of bread. How can I possibly desert such a woman? and yet I must
desert her, or be guilty of the blackest treachery to one who deserves
infinitely better of me than she can; a woman, my Nightingale, for
whom I have a passion which few can have an idea of. I am half
distracted with doubts how to act." "And is this other, pray, an
honourable mistress?" cries Nightingale. "Honourable!" answered Jones;
"no breath ever yet durst sully her reputation. The sweetest air is
not purer, the limpid stream not clearer, than her honour. She is
all over, both in mind and body, consummate perfection. She is the
most beautiful creature in the universe: and yet she is mistress of
such noble elevated qualities, that, though she is never from my
thoughts, I scarce ever think of her beauty but when I see it."- "And
can you, my good friend," cries Nightingale, "with such an
engagement as this upon your hands, hesitate a moment about quitting
such a-" "Hold," said Jones, "no more abuse of her: I detest the
thought of ingratitude." "Pooh!" answered the other, "you are not
the first upon whom she hath conferred obligations of this kind. She
is remarkably liberal where she likes; though, let me tell you, her
favours are so prudently bestowed, that they should rather raise a
man's vanity than his gratitude." In short, Nightingale proceeded so
far on this head, and told his friend so many stories of the lady,
which he swore to the truth of, that he entirely removed all esteem
for her from the breast of Jones; and his gratitude was lessened in
proportion. Indeed, he began to look on all the favours he had
received rather as wages than benefits, which depreciated not only
her, but himself too in his own conceit, and put him quite out of
humour with both. From this digust, his mind, by a natural transition,
turned towards Sophia; her virtue, her purity, her love to him, her
sufferings on his account, filled all his thoughts, and made his
commerce with Lady Bellaston appear still more odious. The result of
all was, that, though his turning himself out of her service, in which
light he now saw his affair with her, would be the loss of his
bread; yet he determined to quit her, if he could but find a
handsome pretence: which being communicated to his friend, Nightingale
considered a little, and then said, "I have it, my boy! I have found
out a sure method; propose marriage to her, and I would venture
hanging upon the success." "Marriage?" cries Jones. "Ay, propose
marriage," answered Nightingale, "and she will declare off in a
moment. I knew a young fellow whom she kept formerly, who made the
offer to her in earnest, and was presently turned off for his pains."
Jones declared he could not venture the experiment. "Perhaps,"
said he, "she may be less shocked at this proposal from one man than
from another. And if she should take me at my word, where am I then?
caught in my own trap, and undone for ever." "No," answered
Nightingale, "not if I can give you an expedient by which you may at
any time get out of the trap."-- "What expedient can that be?" replied
Jones. "This," answered Nightingale. "The young fellow I mentioned,
who is one of the most intimate acquaintances I have in the world,
is so angry with her for some ill offices she hath since done him,
that I am sure he would, without any difficulty, give you a sight of
her letters; upon which you may decently break with her; and declare
off before the knot is tied, if she should really be willing to tie
it, which I am convinced she will not."
After some hesitation, Jones, upon the strength of this assurance,
consented; but, as he swore he wanted the confidence to propose the
matter to her face, he wrote the following letter, which Nightingale
dictated:-
MADAM,
I am extremely concerned, that, by an unfortunate engagement abroad,
I should have missed receiving the honour of your ladyship's
commands the moment they came; and the delay which I must now suffer
of vindicating myself to your ladyship greatly adds to this
misfortune. O, Lady Bellaston! what a terror have I been in, for
fear your reputation should be exposed by these perverse accidents!
There is one only way to secure it. I need not name what that is. Only
permit me to say, that as your honour is as dear to me as my own, so
my sole ambition is to have the glory of laying my liberty at your
feet; and believe me when I assure you, I can never be made completely
happy, without you generously bestow on me a legal right of calling
you mine for ever.- I am,
madam,
with most profound respect,
your ladyship's most obliged,
obedient, humble servant,
THOMAS JONES
To this she presently returned the following answer:
SIR,
When I read over your serious epistle, I could, from its coldness
and formality, have sworn that you already had the legal right you
mention; nay, that we had for many years composed that monstrous
animal a husband and wife. Do you really then imagine me a fool? or do
you fancy yourself capable of so entirely persuading me out of my
senses, that I should deliver my whole fortune into your power, in
order to enable you to support your pleasures at my expense? Are these
the proofs of love which I expected? Is this the return for--? but I
scorn to upbraid you, and am in great admiration of your Profound
respect.
P.S. I am prevented from revising:-- Perhaps I have said more than I
meant.-- Come to me at eight this evening.
Jones, by the advice of his privy-council, replied:
MADAM,
It is impossible to express how much I am shocked at the suspicion
you entertain of me. Can Lady Bellaston have conferred favours on a
man whom she could believe capable of so base a design? or can she
treat the most solemn tie of love with contempt? Can you imagine,
madam, that if the violence of my passion, in an unguarded moment,
overcame the tenderness which I have for your honour, I would think of
indulging myself in the continuance of an intercourse which could
not possibly escape long the notice of the world; and which, when
discovered, must prove so fatal to your reputation? If such be your
opinion of me, I must pray for a sudden opportunity of returning those
pecuniary obligations, which I have been so unfortunate to receive
at your hands; and for those of a more tender kind, I shall ever
remain, &c. And so concluded in the very words with which he had
concluded the former letter.
The lady answered as follows:
I see you are a villain! and I despise you from my soul. If you come
here I shall not be at home.
Though Jones was well satisfied with his deliverance from a thraldom
which those who have ever experienced it will, I apprehend, allow to
be none of the lightest, he was not, however, perfectly easy in his
mind. There was in this scheme too much of fallacy to satisfy one
who utterly detested every species of falshood or dishonesty: nor
would he, indeed, have submitted to put it in practice, had he not
been involved in a distressful situation, where he was obliged to be
guilty of some dishonour, either to the one lady or the other; and
surely the reader will allow, that every good principle, as well as
love, pleaded strongly in favour of Sophia.
Nightingale highly exulted in the success of his stratagem, upon
which he received many thanks and much applause from his friend. He
answered, "Dear Tom, we have conferred very different obligations on
each other. To me you owe the regaining your liberty; to you I owe the
loss of mine. But if you are as happy in the one instance as I am in
the other, I promise you we are the two happiest fellows in England."
The two gentlemen were now summoned down to dinner, where Mrs.
Miller, who performed herself the office of cook, had exerted her best
talents to celebrate the wedding of her daughter. This joyful
circumstance she ascribed principally to the friendly behaviour of
Jones; her whole soul was fired with gratitude towards him, and all
her looks, words, and actions, were so busied in expressing it, that
her daughter, and even her new son-in-law, were very little objects of
her consideration.
Dinner was just ended when Mrs. Miller received a letter; but as
we have had letters enow in this chapter, we shall communicate its
contents in our next.
Chapter 10
Consisting partly of facts, and partly of observations upon them
The letter, then, which arrived at the end of the preceding
chapter was from Mr. Allworthy, and the purport of it was, his
intention to come immediately to town, with his nephew Blifil, and a
desire to be accommodated with his usual lodgings, which were the
first floor for himself, and the second for his nephew.
The chearfulness which had before displayed itself in the
countenance of the poor woman was a little clouded on his occasion.
This news did indeed a good deal disconcert her. To requite so
disinterested a match with her daughter, by presently turning her
new son-in-law out of doors, appeared to her very unjustifiable on the
one hand; and on the other, she could scarce bear the thoughts of
making any excuse to Mr. Allworthy, after all the obligations received
from him, for depriving him of lodgings which were indeed strictly his
due; for that gentleman, in conferring all his numberless benefits
on others, acted by a rule diametrically opposite to what is practised
by most generous people. He contrived, on all occasions, to hide his
beneficence, not only from the world, but even from the object of
it. He constantly used the words Lend and Pay, instead of Give; and by
every other method he could invent, always lessened with his tongue
the favours he conferred, while he was heaping them with both hands.
When he settled the annuity of L50 a year therefore on Mrs. Miller, he
told her, "it was in consideration of always having her first-floor
when he was in town (which he scarce ever intended to be), but that
she might let it at any other time, for that he would always send
her a month's warning." He was now, however, hurried to town so
suddenly, that he had no opportunity of giving such notice; and this
hurry probably prevented him, when he wrote for his lodgings,
adding, if they were then empty; for he would most certainly have been
well satisfied to have relinquished them, on a less sufficient
excuse than what Mrs. Miller could now have made.
But there are a sort of persons, who, as Prior excellently well
remarks, direct their conduct by something
Beyond the fix'd and settled rules
Of vice and virtue in the schools,
Beyond the letter of the law.
To these it is so far from being sufficient that their defence would
acquit them at the Old Bailey, that they are not even contented,
though conscience, the severest of all judges, should discharge
them. Nothing short of the fair and honourable will satisfy the
delicacy of their minds; and if any of their actions fall short of
this mark, they mope and pine, are as uneasy and restless as a
murderer, who is afraid of a ghost, or of the hangman.
Mrs. Miller was one of these. She could not conceal her uneasiness
at this letter; with the of which she had no sooner acquainted the
company, and given some hints of her distress, than Jones, her good
angel, presently relieved her anxiety. "As for myself, madam,' said
he, "my lodging is at your service at a moment's warning; and Mr.
Nightingale, I am sure, as he cannot yet prepare a house fit to
receive his lady, will consent to return to his new lodging, whither
Mrs. Nightingale will certainly consent to go." With which proposal
both husband and wife agreed.
The reader will easily believe, that the cheeks of Mrs. Miller began
again to glow with additional gratitude to Jones; but, perhaps, it may
be more difficult to persuade him, that Mr. Jones having in his last
speech called her daughter Mrs. Nightingale (it being the first time
that agreeable sound had ever reached her ears), gave the fond
mother more satisfaction, and warmed her heart more towards Jones,
than his having dissipated her present anxiety.
The next day was then appointed for the removal of the new-married
couple, and of Mr. Jones, who was likewise to be provided for in the
same house with his friend. And now the serenity of the company was
again restored, and they past the day in the utmost chearfulness,
all except Jones, who, though he outwardly accompanied the rest in
their mirth, felt many a bitter pang on the account of his Sophia,
which were not a little heightened by the news of Mr. Blifil's
coming to town for he clearly saw the intention of his journey); and
what greatly aggravated his concern was, that Mrs. Honour, who had
promised to inquire after Sophia, and to make her report to him
early the next evening, had disappointed him.
In the situation that he and his mistress were in at this time,
there were scarce any grounds for him to hope that he should hear
any good news; yet he was as impatient to see Mrs. Honour as if he had
expected she would bring him a letter with an assignation in it from
Sophia, and bore the disappointment as ill. Whether this impatience
