of his joy on your recovery; and, I am sorry to say it, from the
baseness of another person (but it is my desire to justify the
innocent, and to accuse none). Believe me, my friend, this young man
hath the noblest generosity of heart, the most perfect capacity for
friendship, the highest integrity, and indeed every virtue which can
ennoble a man. He hath some faults, but among them is not to be
numbered the least want of duty or gratitude towards you. On the
contrary, I am satisfied, when you dismissed him from your house,
his heart bled for you more than for himself.
Worldly motives were the wicked and base reasons of my concealing
this from you so long: to reveal it now I can have no inducement but
the desire of serving the cause of truth, of doing right to the
innocent, and of making all the amends in my Power for a Past offence.
I hope this declaration, therefore, will have the effect desired,
and will restore this deserving young man to your favour; the
hearing of which, while I am yet alive, will afford the utmost
consolation to,
Sir,
Your most obliged,
obedient humble servant,
THOMAS SQUARE
The reader will, after this, scarce wonder at the revolution so
visibly appearing in Mr. Allworthy, notwithstanding he received from
Thwackum, by the same post, another letter of a very different kind,
which we shall here add, as it may possibly be the last time we
shall have occasion to mention the name of that gentleman.
SIR,
I am not at all surprized at hearing form your worthy nephew a fresh
instance of the villany of Mr. Square the atheist's young pupil. I
shall not wonder at any murders he may commit; and I heartily pray
that your own blood may not seal up his final commitment to the
place of wailing and gnashing of teeth.
Though you cannot want sufficient calls to repentance for the many
unwarrantable weaknesses exemplified in your behaviour to this wretch,
so much to the prejudice of your own lawful family, and of your
character, I say, though these may sufficiently be supposed to prick
and goad your conscience at this season, I should yet be wanting to my
duty, if I spared to give you some admonition in order to bring you to
a due sense of your errors. I therefore pray you seriously to consider
the judgment which is likely to overtake this wicked villain; and
let it serve at least as a warning to you, that you may not for the
future despise the advice of one who is so indefatigable in his
prayers for your welfare.
Had not my hand been withheld from due correction, I had scourged
much of this diabolical spirit out of a boy, of whom, from his
infancy, I discovered the devil had taken such entire possession.
But reflections of this hind now come too late.
I am sorry you have given away the living of Westerton so hastily. I
should have applied on that occasion earlier, had I thought you
would not have acquainted me previous to the disposition.-- Your
objection to pluralities is being righteous over-much. If there were
any crime in the practice, so many godly men would not agree to it. If
the vicar of Aldergrove should die (as we hear he is in a declining
way), I hope you will think of me, since I am certain you must be
convinced of my most sincere attachment to your highest welfare- a
welfare to which all worldly considerations are as trifling as the
small tithes mentioned in Scripture are, when compared to the
weighty matters of the law.
I am, sir,
Your faithful humble servant,
ROGER THWACKUM
This was the first time Thwackum ever wrote in this authoritative
stile to Allworthy, and of this he had afterwards sufficient reason to
repent, as in the case of those who mistake the highest degree of
goodness for the lowest degree of weakness. Allworthy had indeed never
liked this man. He knew him to be proud and ill-natured; he also
knew that his divinity itself was tinctured with his temper, and
such as in many respects he himself did by no means approve; but he
was at the same time an excellent scholar, and most indefatigable in
teaching the two lads. Add to this, the strict severity of his life
and manners, an unimpeached honesty, and a most devout attachment to
religion. So that, upon the whole, though Allworthy did not esteem nor
love the man, yet he could never bring himself to part with a tutor to
the boys, who was, both by learning and industry, extremely well
qualified for his office; and he hoped, that as they were bred up in
his own house, and under his own eye, he should be able to correct
whatever was wrong in Thwackum's instructions.
Chapter 5
In which the history is continued
Mr. Allworthy, in his last speech, had recollected some tender
concerning Jones, which had brought tears into the good man's eyes.
This Mrs. Miller observing, said, "Yes, yes, sir, your goodness to
this poor young man is known, notwithstanding all your care to conceal
it; but there is not a single syllable of truth in what those villains
said. Mr. Nightingale hath now discovered the whole matter. It seems
these fellows were employed by a lord, who is a rival of poor Mr.
Jones, to have pressed him on board a ship.-- I assure them I don't
know who they will press next. Mr. Nightingale here hath seen the
officer himself, who is a very pretty gentleman, and hath told him
all, and is very sorry for what he undertook, which he would never
have done, had he known Mr. Jones to have been a gentleman; but he was
told that he was a common strolling vagabond."
Allworthy stared at all this, and declared he was a stranger to
every word she said, "Yes, sir," answered she, "I believe you
are.-- It is a very different story, I believe, from what those
fellows told the lawyer."
"What lawyer, madam? what is it you mean?" said Allworthy. "Nay,
nay," said she, "this is so like you to deny your own goodness: but
Mr. Nightingale here saw him." "Saw whom, madam?" answered he. "Why,
your lawyer, sir," said she, "that you so kindly sent to inquire
into the affair." "I am still in the dark, upon my honour," said
Allworthy. "Why then do you tell him, my dear sir," cries she.
"Indeed, sir," said Nightingale, "I did see that very lawyer who
went from you when I came into the room, at an alehouse in Aldersgate,
in company with two of the fellows who were employed by Lord
Fellamar to press Mr. Jones, and who were by that means present at the
unhappy rencounter between him and Mr. Fitzpatrick." "I own, sir,"
said Mrs. Miller, "when I saw this gentleman come into the room to
you, I told Mr. Nightingale that I apprehended you had sent him
thither to inquire into the affair." Allworthy showed marks of
astonishment in his countenance at this news, and was indeed for two
or three minutes struck dumb by it. At last, addressing himself to Mr.
Nightingale, he said, "I must confess myself, sir, more surprized at
what you tell me than I have ever been before at anything in my
whole life. Are you certain this was the gentleman?" "I am most
certain," answered Nightingale. "At Aldersgate?" cries Allworthy. "And
was you in company with this lawyer and the two fellows?"- "I was,
sir," said the other, "very near half an hour." "Well, sir," said
Allworthy, "and in what manner did the lawyer behave? did you hear all
that past between him and the fellows?" "No, sir," answered
Nightingale, "they had been together before I came.- In my presence
the lawyer said little; but, after I had several times examined the
fellows, who persisted in a story directly contrary to what I had
heard from Mr. Jones, and which I find by Mr. Fitzpatrick was a rank
falshood, the lawyer then desired the fellows to say nothing but
what was the truth, and seemed to speak so much in favour of Mr.
Jones, that, when I saw the same person with you, I concluded your
goodness had prompted you to send him thither."- "And did you not
send him thither?" says Mrs. Miller.- "Indeed I did not," answered
Allworthy; "nor did I know he had gone on such errand till this
moment."- "I see it all!" said Mrs. Miller, "upon my soul, I see it
all! No wonder they have been closeted so close lately. Son
Nightingale, let me beg you run for these fellows immediately-- find
them out if they are above-ground. I will go myself"-- "Dear madam,"
said Allworthy, "be patient, and do me the favour to send a servant
upstairs to call Mr. Dowling hither, if he be in the house, or, if
not, Mr. Blifil." Mrs. Miller went out muttering something to herself,
and presently returned with an answer, "That Mr. Dowling was gone; but
that the t'other," as she called him, "was coming."
Allworthy was of a cooler disposition than the good woman, whose
spirits were all up in arms in the cause of her friend. He was not
however without some suspicions which were near akin to hers. When
Blifil came into the room, he asked him with a very serious
countenance, and with a less friendly look than he had ever before
given him, "Whether he knew anything of Mr. Dowling's having seen
any of the persons who were present at the duel between Jones and
another gentleman?"
There is nothing so dangerous as a question which comes by
surprize on a man whose business it is to conceal truth, or to
defend falshood. For which reason those worthy personages, whose noble
office it is to save the lives of their fellow-creatures at the Old
Bailey, take the utmost care, by frequent previous examination, to
divine every question which may be asked their clients on the day of
tryal, that they may be supplyed with proper and ready answers,
which the most fertile invention cannot supply in an instant. Besides,
the sudden and violent impulse on the blood, occasioned by these
surprizes, causes frequently such an alteration in the countenance,
that the man is obliged to give evidence against himself. And such
indeed were the alterations which the countenance of Blifil
underwent from this sudden question, that we can scarce blame the
eagerness of Mrs. Miller, who immediately cryed out, "Guilty, upon
my honour! guilty, upon my soul!"
Mr. Allworthy sharply rebuked her for this impetuosity; and then
turning to Blifil, who seemed sinking into the earth, he said, "Why do
you hesitate, sir, at giving me an answer? You certainly must have
employed him; for he would not, of his own accord, I believe, have
undertaken such an errand, and especially without acquainting me."
Blifil then answered, "I own, sir, I have been guilty of an offence,
yet may I hope your pardon?"-- "My pardon," said Allworthy, very
angrily.-- "Nay, sir," answered Blifil, "I knew you would be offended;
yet surely my dear uncle will forgive the effects of the most
amiable of human weaknesses. Compassion for those who do not deserve
it, I own is a crime; and yet it is a crime from which you yourself
are not entirely free. I know I have been guilty of it in more than
one instance to this very person; and I will own I did send Mr.
Dowling, not on a vain and fruitless inquiry, but to discover the
witnesses, and to endeavour to soften their evidence. This, sir, is
the truth; which, though I intended to conceal from you, I will not
deny."
"I confess," said Nightingale, "this is the light in which it
appeared to me from the gentleman's behaviour."
"Now, madam," said Allworthy, "I believe you will once in your
life own you have entertained a wrong suspicion, and are not so
angry with my nephew as you was."
Mrs. Miller was silent; for, though she could not so hastily be
pleased with Blifil, whom she looked upon to have been the ruin of
Jones, yet in this particular instance he had imposed upon her as well
as upon the rest; so entirely had the devil stood his friend. And,
indeed, I look upon the vulgar observation, "That the devil often
deserts his friends, and leaves them in the lurch," to be a great
abuse on that gentleman's character. Perhaps he may sometimes desert
those who are only his cup acquaintance; or who, at most, are but half
his; but he generally stands by those who are thoroughly his servants,
and helps them off in all extremities, till their bargain expires.
As a conquered rebellion strengthens a government, or as health is
more perfectly established by recovery from some diseases; so anger,
when removed, often gives new life to affection. This was the case
of Mr. Allworthy; for Blifil having wiped off the greater suspicion,
the lesser, which had been raised by Square's letter, sunk of
course, and was forgotten; and Thwackum, with whom he was greatly
offended, bore alone all the reflections which Square had cast on
the enemies of Jones.
As for that young man, the resentment of Mr. Allworthy began more
and more to abate towards him. He told Blifil, "He did not only
forgive the extraordinary efforts of his good-nature, but would give
him the pleasure of following his example." Then, turning to Mrs.
Miller with a smile which would have become an angel, he cryed,
"What say you, madam? shall we take a hackney-coach, and all of us
together pay a visit to your friend? I promise you it is not the first
visit I have made in a prison."
Every reader, I believe, will be able to answer for the worthy
woman; but they must have a great deal of good-nature, and be well
acquainted with friendship, who can feel what she felt on this
occasion. Few, I hope, are capable of feeling what now passed in the
mind of Blifil; but those who are, will acknowledge, that it was
