both make frequent use of the word mercy, yet it was plain that in
reality Square held it to be inconsistent with the rule of right;
and Thwackum was for doing justice, and leaving mercy to heaven. The
two gentlemen did indeed somewhat differ in opinion concerning the
objects of this sublime virtue; by which Thwackum would probably
have destroyed one half of mankind, and Square the other half.
Master Blifil then, though he had kept silence in the presence of
Jones, yet, when he had better considered the matter, could by no
means endure the thought of suffering his uncle to confer favours on
the undeserving. He therefore resolved immediately to acquaint him
with the fact which we have above slightly hinted to the reader. The
truth of which was as follows:
The gamekeeper, about a year after he was dismissed from Mr.
Allworthy's service, and before Tom's selling the horse, being in want
of bread, either to fill his own mouth or those of his family, as he
passed through a field belonging to Mr. Western espied a hare
sitting in her form. This hare he had basely and barbarously knocked
on the head, against the laws of the land, and no less against the
laws of sportsmen.
The higgler to whom the hare was sold, being unfortunately taken
many months after with a quantity of game upon him, was obliged to
make his peace with the squire, by becoming evidence against some
poacher. And now Black George was pitched upon by him, as being a
person already obnoxious to Mr. Western, and one of no good fame in
the country. He was, besides, the best sacrifice the higgler could
make, as he had supplied him with no game since; and by this means the
witness had an opportunity of screening his better customers: for
the squire, being charmed with the power of punishing Black George,
whom a single transgression was sufficient to ruin, made no further
enquiry.
Had this fact been truly laid before Mr. Allworthy, it might
probably have done the gamekeeper very little mischief. But there is
no zeal blinder than that which is inspired with the love of justice
against offenders. Master Blifil had forgot the distance of the
time. He varied likewise in the manner of the fact: and by the hasty
addition of the single letter S he considerably altered the story; for
he said that George had wired hares. These alterations might
probably have been set right, had not Master Blifil unluckily insisted
on a promise of secrecy from Mr. Allworthy before he revealed the
matter to him; but by that means the poor gamekeeper was condemned
without having an opportunity to defend himself: for as the fact of
killing the hare, and of the action brought, were certainly true,
Mr. Allworthy had no doubt concerning the rest.
Short-lived then was the joy of these poor people; for Mr. Allworthy
the next morning declared he had fresh reason, without assigning it,
for his anger, and strictly forbad Tom to mention George any more:
though as for his family, he said he would endeavour to keep them from
starving; but as to the fellow himself, he would leave him to the
laws, which nothing could keep him from breaking.
Tom could by no means divine what had incensed Mr. Allworthy, for of
Master Blifil he had not the least suspicion. However, as his
friendship was to be tired out by no disappointments, he now
determined to try another method of preserving the poor gamekeeper
from ruin.
Jones was lately grown very intimate with Mr. Western. He had so
greatly recommended himself to that gentleman, by leaping over
five-barred gates, and by other acts of sportsmanship, that the squire
had declared Tom would certainly make a great man if he had but
sufficient encouragement. He often wished he had himself a son with
such parts; and one day very solemnly asserted at a drinking bout,
that Tom should hunt a pack of hounds for a thousand pound of his
money, with any huntsman in the whole country.
By such kind of talents he had so ingratiated himself with the
squire, that he was a most welcome guest at his table, and a favourite
companion in his sport: everything which the squire held most dear, to
wit, his guns, dogs, and horses, were now as much at the command of
Jones, as if they had been his own. He resolved therefore to make
use of this favour on behalf of his friend Black George, whom he hoped
to introduce into Mr. Western's family, in the same capacity in
which he had before served Mr. Allworthy.
The reader, if he considers that this fellow was already obnoxious
to Mr. Western, and if he considers farther the weighty business by
which that gentleman's displeasure had been incurred, will perhaps
condemn this as a foolish and desperate undertaking; but if he
should totally condemn young Jones on that account, he will greatly
applaud him for strengthening himself with all imaginable interest
on so arduous an occasion.
For this purpose, then, Tom applied to Mr. Western's daughter, a
young lady of about seventeen years of age, whom her father, next
after those necessary implements of sport just before mentioned, loved
and esteemed above all the world. Now, as she had some influence on
the squire, so Tom had some little influence on her. But this being
the intended heroine of this work, a lady with whom we ourselves are
greatly in love, and with whom many of our readers will probably be in
love too, before we part, it is by no means proper she should make her
appearance at the end of a book.
BOOK IV
CONTAINING THE TIME OF A YEAR
Chapter 1
Containing five pages of paper
As truth distinguishes our writings from those idle romances which
are filled with monsters, the productions, not of nature, but of
distempered brains; and which have been therefore recommended by an
eminent critic to the sole use of the pastry-cook; so, on the other
hand, we would avoid any resemblance to that kind of history which a
celebrated poet seems to think is no less calculated for the emolument
of the brewer, as the reading it should be always attended with a
tankard of good ale-
While- history with her comrade ale,
Soothes the sad series of her serious tale.
For as this is the liquor of modern historians, nay, perhaps their
muse, if we may believe the opinion of Butler, who attributes
inspiration to ale, it ought likewise to be the potation of their
readers, since every book ought to be read with the same spirit and in
the same manner as it is writ. Thus the famous author of
Hurlothrumbo told a learned bishop, that the reason his lordship could
not taste the excellence of his piece was, that he did not read it
with a fiddle in his hand; which instrument he himself had always
had in his own, when he composed it.
That our work, therefore, might be in no danger of being likened
to the labours of these historians, we have taken every occasion of
interspersing through the whole sundry similes, descriptions, and
other kind of poetical embellishments. These are, indeed, designed
to supply the place of the said ale, and to refresh the mind, whenever
those slumbers, which in a long work are apt to invade the reader as
well as the writer, shall begin to creep upon him. Without
interruptions of this kind, the best narrative of plain matter of fact
must overpower every reader; for nothing but the everlasting
watchfulness, which Homer has ascribed only to Jove himself, can be
proof against a newspaper of many volumes.
We shall leave to the reader to determine with what judgment we have
chosen the several occasions for inserting those ornamental parts of
our work. Surely it will be allowed that none could be more proper
than the present, where we are about to introduce a considerable
character on the scene; no less, indeed, than the heroine of this
heroic, historical, prosaic poem. Here, therefore, we have thought
proper to prepare the mind of the reader for her reception, by filling
it with every pleasing image which we can draw from the face of
nature. And for this method we plead many precedents. First, this is
an art well known to, and much practised by, our tragick poets, who
seldom fail to prepare their audience for the reception of their
principal characters.
Thus the heroe is always introduced with a flourish of drums and
trumpets, in order to rouse a martial spirit in the audience, and to
accommodate their ears to bombast and fustian, which Mr. Locke's blind
man would not have grossly erred in likening to the sound of a
trumpet. Again, when lovers are coming forth, soft music often
conducts them on the stage, either to soothe the audience with the
softness of the tender passion, or to lull and prepare them for that
gentle slumber in which they will most probably be composed by the
ensuing scene.
And not only the poets, but the masters of these poets, the managers
of playhouses, seem to be in this secret; for, besides the aforesaid
kettle-drums, &c., which denote the heroe's approach, he is
generally ushered on the stage by a large troop of half a dozen
scene-shifters; and how necessary these are imagined to his
appearance, may be concluded from the following theatrical story:-
King Pyrrhus was at dinner at an ale-house bordering on the theatre,
when he was summoned to go on the stage. The heroe, being unwilling to
quit his shoulder of mutton, and as unwilling to draw on himself the
indignation of Mr. Wilks (his brother-manager) for making the audience
wait, had bribed these his harbingers to be out of the way. While
Mr. Wilks, therefore, was thundering out, "Where are the carpenters to
walk on before King Pyrrhus?" that monarch very quietly eat his
mutton, and the audience, however impatient, were obliged to entertain
themselves with music in his absence.
To be plain, I much question whether the politician, who hath
generally a good nose, hath not scented out somewhat of the utility of
this practice. I am convinced that awful magistrate my lord-mayor
contracts a good deal of that reverence which attends him through
the year, by the several pageants which precede his pomp. Nay, I
must confess, that even I myself, who am not remarkably liable to be
captivated with show, have yielded not a little to the impressions
of much preceding state. When I have seen a man strutting in a
procession, after others whose business was only to walk before him, I
have conceived a higher notion of his dignity than I have felt on
seeing him in a common situation. But there is one instance, which
comes exactly up to my purpose. This is the custom of sending on a
basket-woman, who is to precede the pomp at a coronation, and to strew
the stage with flowers, before the great personages begin their
procession. The antients would certainly have invoked the goddess
Flora for this purpose, and it would have been no difficulty for their
priests, or politicians to have persuaded the people of the real
presence of the deity, though a plain mortal had personated her and
performed her office. But we have no such design of imposing on our
reader; and therefore those who object to the heathen theology, may,
if they please, change our goddess into the above-mentioned
basket-woman. Our intention, in short, is to introduce our heroine
with the utmost solemnity in our power, with an elevation of stile,
and all other circumstances proper to raise the veneration of our
reader. Indeed we would, for certain causes, advise those of our
male readers who have any hearts, to read no farther, were we not well
assured, that how amiable soever the picture of our heroine will
appear, as it is really a copy from nature, many of our fair
country-women will be found worthy to satisfy any passion, and to
answer any idea of female perfection which our pencil will be able
to raise.
And now, without any further preface, we proceed to our next
chapter.
Chapter 2
A short hint of what we can do in the sublime, and a description
of Miss Sophia Western
Hushed be every ruder breath. May the heathen ruler of the winds
confine in iron chains the boisterous limbs of noisy Boreas, and the
sharp-pointed nose of bitter-biting Eurus. Do thou, sweet Zephyrus,
rising from thy fragrant bed, mount the western sky, and lead on those
delicious gales, the charms of which call forth the lovely Flora
from her chamber, perfumed with pearly dews, when on the 1st of
June, her birth-day, the blooming maid, in loose attire, gently
trips it over the verdant mead, where every flower rises to do her
homage, till the whole field becomes enamelled, and colours contend
with sweets which shall ravish her most.
So charming may she now appear! and you the feathered choristers of
nature, whose sweetest notes not even Handel can excell, tune your
melodious throats to celebrate her appearance. From love proceeds your
music, and to love it returns. Awaken therefore that gentle passion in
every swain: for lo! adorned with all the charms in which nature can
array her; bedecked with beauty, youth, sprightliness, innocence,
modesty, and tenderness, breathing sweetness from her rosy lips, and
darting brightness from her sparkling eyes, the lovely Sophia comes!
Reader, perhaps thou hast seen the statue of the Venus de Medicis.
Perhaps, too, thou hast seen the gallery of beauties at Hampton Court.
Thou may'st remember each bright Churchill of the galaxy, and all
the toasts of the Kit-cat. Or, if their reign was before thy times, at
least thou hast seen their daughters, the no less dazzling beauties of
the present age; whose names, should we here insert, we apprehend they
would fill the whole volume.
Now if thou hast seen all these, be not afraid of the rude answer
which Lord Rochester once gave to a man who had seen many things.
No. If thou hast seen all these without knowing what beauty is, thou
hast no eyes; if without feeling its power, thou hast no heart.
Yet is it possible, my friend, that thou mayest have seen all
these without being able to form an exact idea of Sophia; for she
