the manifold injuries she had received from her husband; who, she
said, was not contented to injure her in her bed; but, upon her
upbraiding him with it, had treated her in the cruelest manner
imaginable; had tore her cap and hair from her head, and her stays
from her body, giving her, at the same time, several blows, the
marks of which she should carry to the grave.
The poor man, who bore on his face many more visible marks of the
indignation of his wife, stood in silent astonishment at this
accusation; which the reader will, I believe, bear witness for him,
had greatly exceeded the truth; for indeed he had not struck her once;
and this silence being interpreted to be a confession of the charge by
the whole court, they all began at once, una voce,* to rebuke and
revile him, repeating often, that none but a coward ever struck a
woman.
*In one voice.
Mr. Partridge bore all this patiently; but when his wife appealed to
the blood on her face, as an evidence of his barbarity, he could not
help laying claim to his own blood, for so it really was; as he
thought it very unnatural, that this should rise up (as we are
taught that of a murdered person often doth) in vengeance against him.
To this the women made no other answer, than that it was a pity it
had not come from his heart, instead of his face; all declaring, that,
if their husbands should lift their hands against them, they would
have their hearts' bloods out of their bodies.
After much admonition for what was past, and much good advice to Mr.
Partridge for his future behaviour, the company at length departed,
and left the husband and wife to a personal conference together, in
which Mr. Partridge soon learned the cause of all his sufferings.
Chapter 5
Containing much matter to exercise the judgment and reflection of
the reader
I believe it is a true observation, that few secrets are divulged to
one person only; but certainly, it would be next to a miracle that a
fact of this kind should be known to a whole parish, and not transpire
any farther.
And, indeed, a very few days had past, before the country, to use
a common phrase, rung of the schoolmaster of Little Baddington; who
was said to have beaten his wife in the most cruel manner. Nay, in
some places it was reported he had murdered her; in others, that he
had broke her arms; in others, her legs: in short, there was scarce an
injury which can be done to a human creature, but what Mrs.
Partridge was somewhere or other affirmed to have received from her
husband.
The cause of this quarrel was likewise variously reported; for as
some people said that Mrs. Partridge had caught her husband in bed
with his maid, so many other reasons, of a very different kind, went
abroad. Nay, some transferred the guilt to the wife, and the
jealousy to the husband.
Mrs. Wilkins had long ago heard of this quarrel; but, as a different
cause from the true one had reached her ears, she thought proper to
conceal it; and the rather, perhaps, as the blame was universally laid
on Mr. Partridge; and his wife, when she was servant to Mr. Allworthy,
had in something offended Mrs. Wilkins, who was not of a very
forgiving temper.
But Mrs. Wilkins, whose eyes could see objects at a distance, and
who could very well look forward a few years into futurity, had
perceived a strong likelihood of Captain Blifil's being hereafter
her master; and as she plainly discerned that the captain bore no
great goodwill to the little foundling, she fancied it would be
rendering him an agreeable service, if she could make any
discoveries that might lessen the affection which Mr. Allworthy seemed
to have contracted for this child, and which gave visible uneasiness
to the captain, who could not entirely conceal it even before
Allworthy himself; though his wife, who acted her part much better
in public, frequently recommended to him her own example, of conniving
at the folly of her brother, which, she said, she at least as well
perceived, and as much resented, as any other possibly could.
Mrs. Wilkins having therefore, by accident, gotten a true scent of
the above story, though long after it had happened, failed not to
satisfy herself thoroughly of all the particulars; and then acquainted
the captain, that she had at last discovered the true father of the
little bastard, which she was sorry, she said, to see her master
lose his reputation in the country, by taking so much notice of.
The captain chid her for the conclusion of her speech, as an
improper assurance in judging of her master's actions: for if his
honour, or his understanding, would have suffered the captain to
make an alliance with Mrs. Wilkins, his pride would by no means have
admitted it. And to say the truth, there is no conduct less politic,
than to enter into any confederacy with your friend's servants against
their master: for by these means you afterwards become the slave of
these very servants; by whom you are constantly liable to be betrayed.
And this consideration, perhaps it was, which prevented Captain Blifil
from being more explicit with Mrs. Wilkins, or from encouraging the
abuse which she had bestowed on Allworthy.
But though he declared no satisfaction to Mrs. Wilkins at this
discovery, he enjoyed not a little from it in his own mind, and
resolved to make the best use of it he was able.
He kept this matter a long time concealed within his own breast,
in hopes that Mr. Allworthy might hear it from some other person;
but Mrs. Wilkins, whether she resented the captain's behaviour, or
whether his cunning was beyond her, and she feared the discovery might
displease him, never afterwards opened her lips about the matter.
I have thought it somewhat strange, upon reflection, that the
housekeeper never acquainted Mrs. Blifil with this news, as women
are more inclined to communicate all pieces of intelligence to their
own sex, than to ours. The only way, as it appears to me, of solving
this difficulty, is, by imputing it to that distance which was now
grown between the lady and the housekeeper: whether this arose from
a jealousy in Mrs. Blifil, that Wilkins showed too great a respect
to the foundling; for while she was endeavouring to ruin the little
infant, in order to ingratiate herself with the captain, she was every
day more and more commending it before Allworthy, as his fondness
for it every day increased. This, notwithstanding all the care she
took at other times to express the direct contrary to Mrs. Blifil,
perhaps offended that delicate lady, who certainly now hated Mrs.
Wilkins; and though she did not, or possibly could not, absolutely
remove her from her place, she found, however, the means of making her
life very uneasy. This Mrs. Wilkins, at length, so resented, that
she very openly showed all manner of respect and fondness to little
Tommy, in opposition to Mrs. Blifil.
The captain, therefore, finding the story in danger of perishing, at
last took an opportunity to reveal it himself.
He was one day engaged with Mr. Allworthy in a discourse on charity:
in which the captain, with great learning, proved to Mr. Allworthy,
that the word charity in Scripture nowhere means beneficence or
generosity.
"The Christian religion," he said, "was instituted for much nobler
purposes, than to enforce a lesson which many heathen philosophers had
taught us long before, and which, though it might perhaps be called
a moral virtue, savoured but little of that sublime, Christian-like
disposition, that vast elevation of thought, in purity approaching
to angelic perfection, to be attained, expressed, and felt only by
grace. Those," he said, "came nearer to the Scripture meaning, who
understood by it candour, or the forming of a benevolent opinion of
our brethren, and passing a favourable judgment on their actions; a
virtue much higher, and more extensive in its nature, than a pitiful
distribution of alms, which, though we would never so much
prejudice, or even ruin our families, could never reach many;
whereas charity, in the other and truer sense, might be extended to
all mankind."
He said, "Considering who the disciples were, it would be absurd
to conceive the doctrine of generosity, or giving alms, to have been
preached to them. And, as we could not well imagine this doctrine
should be preached by its Divine Author to men who could not
practise it, much less should we think it understood so by those who
can practise it, and do not.
"But though," continued he, "there is, I am afraid, little merit
in these benefactions, there would, I must confess, be much pleasure
in them to a good mind, if it was not abated by one consideration. I
mean, that we are liable to be imposed upon, and to confer our
choicest favours often on the undeserving, as you must own was your
case in your bounty to that worthless fellow Partridge: for two or
three such examples must greatly lessen the inward satisfaction
which a good man would otherwise find in generosity; nay, may even
make him timorous in bestowing, lest he should be guilty of supporting
vice, and encouraging the wicked; a crime of a very black dye, and for
which it will by no means be a sufficient excuse, that we have not
actually intended such an encouragement; unless we have used the
utmost caution in chusing the objects of our beneficence. A
consideration which, I make no doubt, hath greatly checked the
liberality of many a worthy and pious man."
Mr. Allworthy answered, "He could not dispute with the captain in
the Greek language, and therefore could say nothing as to the true
sense of the word which is translated charity; but that he had
always thought it was interpreted to consist in action, and that
giving alms constituted at least one branch of that virtue.
"As to the meritorious part," he said, "he readily agreed with the
captain; for where could be the merit of barely discharging a duty?
which," he said, "let the world charity have what construction it
would, it sufficiently appeared to be from the whole tenor of the
New Testament. And as he thought it an indispensable duty, enjoined
both by the Christian law, and by the law of nature itself; so was
it withal so pleasant, that if any duty could be said to be its own
reward, or to pay us while we are discharging it, it was this.
"To confess the truth," said he, "there is one degree of
generosity (of charity I would have called it), which seems to have
some show of merit, and that is, where, from a principle of
benevolence and Christian love, we bestow on another what we really
want ourselves; where, in order to lessen the distresses of another,
we condescend to share some part of them, by giving what even our
own necessities cannot well spare. This is, I think, meritorious;
but to relieve our brethren only with our superfluities; to be
charitable (I must use the word) rather at the expense of our
coffers than ourselves; to save several families from misery rather
than hang up an extraordinary picture in our houses or gratify any
other idle ridiculous vanity- this seems to be only being human
creatures. Nay, I will venture to go farther, it is being in some
degree epicures: for what could the greatest epicure wish rather
than to eat with many mouths instead of one? which I think may be
predicated of any one who knows that the bread of many is owing to his
own largesses.
"As to the apprehension of bestowing bounty on such as may hereafter
prove unworthy objects, because many have proved such; surely it can
never deter a good man from generosity. I do not think a few or many
examples of ingratitude can justify a man's hardening his heart
against the distresses of his fellow-creatures; nor do I believe it
can ever have such effect on a truly benevolent mind. Nothing less
than a persuasion of universal depravity can lock up the charity of a
good man; and this persuasion must lead him, I think, either into
atheism, or enthusiasm; but surely it is unfair to argue such
universal depravity from a few vicious individuals; nor was this, I
believe, ever done by a man, who, upon searching his own mind, found
one certain exception to the general rule." He then concluded by
asking, "who that Partridge was, whom he had called a worthless
fellow?"
"I mean," said the captain, "Partridge the barber, the schoolmaster,
what do you call him? Partridge, the father of the little child
which you found in your bed."
Mr. Allworthy exprest great surprize at this account, and the
captain as great at his ignorance of it; for he said he had known it
above a month: and at length recollected with much difficulty that
he was told it by Mrs. Wilkins.
Upon this, Wilkins was immediately summoned; who having confirmed
what the captain had said, was by Mr. Allworthy, by and with the
captain's advice, dispatched to Little Baddington, to inform herself
of the truth of the fact: for the captain exprest great dislike at all
hasty proceedings in criminal matters, and said he would by no means
have Mr. Allworthy take any resolution either to the prejudice of
the child or its father, before he was satisfied that the latter was
guilty; for though he had privately satisfied himself of this from one
of Partridge's neighbours, yet he was too generous to give any such
evidence to Mr. Allworthy.
Chapter 6
The trial of Partridge, the schoolmaster, for incontinency; the
evidence of his wife; a short reflection on the wisdom of our law;
with other grave matters, which those will like best who understand
them most
It may be wondered that a story so well known, and which had
furnished so much matter of conversation, should never have been
mentioned to Mr. Allworthy himself, who was perhaps the only person in
that country who had never heard of it.
To account in some measure for this to the reader, I think proper to
inform him, that there was no one in the kingdom less interested in
