Before I proceed farther, I shall beg leave to obviate some
misconstructions into which the zeal of some few readers may lead them;
for I would not willingly give offence to any, especially to men who are
warm in the cause of virtue or religion.
I hope, therefore, no man will, by the grossest misunderstanding or
perversion of my meaning, misrepresent me, as endeavouring to cast any
ridicule on the greatest perfections of human nature; and which do,
indeed, alone purify and ennoble the heart of man, and raise him above the
brute creation. This, reader, I will venture to say (and by how much the
better man you are yourself, by so much the more will you be inclined to
believe me), that I would rather have buried the sentiments of these two
persons in eternal oblivion, than have done any injury to either of these
glorious causes.
On the contrary, it is with a view to their service, that I have taken
upon me to record the lives and actions of two of their false and
pretended champions. A treacherous friend is the most dangerous enemy; and
I will say boldly, that both religion and virtue have received more real
discredit from hypocrites than the wittiest profligates or infidels could
ever cast upon them: nay, farther, as these two, in their purity, are
rightly called the bands of civil society, and are indeed the greatest of
blessings; so when poisoned and corrupted with fraud, pretence, and
affectation, they have become the worst of civil curses, and have enabled
men to perpetrate the most cruel mischiefs to their own species.
Indeed, I doubt not but this ridicule will in general be allowed: my chief
apprehension is, as many true and just sentiments often came from the
mouths of these persons, lest the whole should be taken together, and I
should be conceived to ridicule all alike. Now the reader will be pleased
to consider, that, as neither of these men were fools, they could not be
supposed to have holden none but wrong principles, and to have uttered
nothing but absurdities; what injustice, therefore, must I have done to
their characters, had I selected only what was bad! And how horribly
wretched and maimed must their arguments have appeared!
Upon the whole, it is not religion or virtue, but the want of them, which
is here exposed. Had not Thwackum too much neglected virtue, and Square,
religion, in the composition of their several systems, and had not both
utterly discarded all natural goodness of heart, they had never been
represented as the objects of derision in this history; in which we will
now proceed.
This matter then, which put an end to the debate mentioned in the last
chapter, was no other than a quarrel between Master Blifil and Tom Jones,
the consequence of which had been a bloody nose to the former; for though
Master Blifil, notwithstanding he was the younger, was in size above the
other's match, yet Tom was much his superior at the noble art of boxing.
Tom, however, cautiously avoided all engagements with that youth; for
besides that Tommy Jones was an inoffensive lad amidst all his roguery,
and really loved Blifil, Mr Thwackum being always the second of the
latter, would have been sufficient to deter him.
But well says a certain author, No man is wise at all hours; it is
therefore no wonder that a boy is not so. A difference arising at play
between the two lads, Master Blifil called Tom a beggarly bastard. Upon
which the latter, who was somewhat passionate in his disposition,
immediately caused that phenomenon in the face of the former, which we
have above remembered.
Master Blifil now, with his blood running from his nose, and the tears
galloping after from his eyes, appeared before his uncle and the
tremendous Thwackum. In which court an indictment of assault, battery, and
wounding, was instantly preferred against Tom; who in his excuse only
pleaded the provocation, which was indeed all the matter that Master
Blifil had omitted.
It is indeed possible that this circumstance might have escaped his
memory; for, in his reply, he positively insisted, that he had made use of
no such appellation; adding, “Heaven forbid such naughty words
should ever come out of his mouth!”
Tom, though against all form of law, rejoined in affirmance of the words.
Upon which Master Blifil said, “It is no wonder. Those who will tell
one fib, will hardly stick at another. If I had told my master such a
wicked fib as you have done, I should be ashamed to show my face.”
“What fib, child?” cries Thwackum pretty eagerly.
“Why, he told you that nobody was with him a shooting when he killed
the partridge; but he knows” (here he burst into a flood of tears),
“yes, he knows, for he confessed it to me, that Black George the
gamekeeper was there. Nay, he said—yes you did—deny it if you
can, that you would not have confest the truth, though master had cut you
to pieces.”
At this the fire flashed from Thwackum's eyes, and he cried out in triumph—“Oh!
ho! this is your mistaken notion of honour! This is the boy who was not to
be whipped again!” But Mr Allworthy, with a more gentle aspect,
turned towards the lad, and said, “Is this true, child? How came you
to persist so obstinately in a falsehood?”
Tom said, “He scorned a lie as much as any one: but he thought his
honour engaged him to act as he did; for he had promised the poor fellow
to conceal him: which,” he said, “he thought himself farther
obliged to, as the gamekeeper had begged him not to go into the
gentleman's manor, and had at last gone himself, in compliance with his
persuasions.” He said, “This was the whole truth of the
matter, and he would take his oath of it;” and concluded with very
passionately begging Mr Allworthy “to have compassion on the poor
fellow's family, especially as he himself only had been guilty, and the
other had been very difficultly prevailed on to do what he did. Indeed,
sir,” said he, “it could hardly be called a lie that I told;
for the poor fellow was entirely innocent of the whole matter. I should
have gone alone after the birds; nay, I did go at first, and he only
followed me to prevent more mischief. Do, pray, sir, let me be punished;
take my little horse away again; but pray, sir, forgive poor George.”
Mr Allworthy hesitated a few moments, and then dismissed the boys,
advising them to live more friendly and peaceably together.