History of Tom Jones, a Foundling - 31

her that the gentleman who spoke to her was one of the greatest
squires in the country; and made use of every argument, save one,
which Jones afterwards effectually added; and this was, the promise of
half-a-crown;--a bribe too great to be resisted by such a person,
especially as the genteel appearance of Jones, which the light of the
moon plainly discovered to her, together with his affable behaviour,
had entirely subdued those apprehensions of thieves which she had at
first conceived. She agreed, therefore, at last, to let them in; where
Partridge, to his infinite joy, found a good fire ready for his
reception.

The poor fellow, however, had no sooner warmed himself, than those
thoughts which were always uppermost in his mind, began a little to
disturb his brain. There was no article of his creed in which he had a
stronger faith than he had in witchcraft, nor can the reader conceive
a figure more adapted to inspire this idea, than the old woman who now
stood before him. She answered exactly to that picture drawn by Otway
in his Orphan. Indeed, if this woman had lived in the reign of James
the First, her appearance alone would have hanged her, almost without
any evidence.

Many circumstances likewise conspired to confirm Partridge in his
opinion. Her living, as he then imagined, by herself in so lonely a
place; and in a house, the outside of which seemed much too good for
her, but its inside was furnished in the most neat and elegant manner.
To say the truth, Jones himself was not a little surprized at what he
saw; for, besides the extraordinary neatness of the room, it was
adorned with a great number of nicknacks and curiosities, which might
have engaged the attention of a virtuoso.

While Jones was admiring these things, and Partridge sat trembling
with the firm belief that he was in the house of a witch, the old
woman said, "I hope, gentlemen, you will make what haste you can; for
I expect my master presently, and I would not for double the money he
should find you here."--"Then you have a master?" cried Jones.
"Indeed, you will excuse me, good woman, but I was surprized to see
all those fine things in your house."--"Ah, sir," said she, "if the
twentieth part of these things were mine, I should think myself a rich
woman. But pray, sir, do not stay much longer, for I look for him in
every minute."--"Why, sure he would not be angry with you," said
Jones, "for doing a common act of charity?"--"Alack-a-day, sir!" said
she, "he is a strange man, not at all like other people. He keeps no
company with anybody, and seldom walks out but by night, for he doth
not care to be seen; and all the country people are as much afraid of
meeting him; for his dress is enough to frighten those who are not
used to it. They call him, the Man of the Hill (for there he walks by
night), and the country people are not, I believe, more afraid of the
devil himself. He would be terribly angry if he found you
here."--"Pray, sir," says Partridge, "don't let us offend the
gentleman; I am ready to walk, and was never warmer in my life. Do
pray, sir, let us go. Here are pistols over the chimney: who knows
whether they be charged or no, or what he may do with them?"--"Fear
nothing, Partridge," cries Jones; "I will secure thee from
danger."--"Nay, for matter o' that, he never doth any mischief," said
the woman; "but to be sure it is necessary he should keep some arms
for his own safety; for his house hath been beset more than once; and
it is not many nights ago that we thought we heard thieves about it:
for my own part, I have often wondered that he is not murdered by some
villain or other, as he walks out by himself at such hours; but then,
as I said, the people are afraid of him; and besides, they think, I
suppose, he hath nothing about him worth taking."--"I should imagine,
by this collection of rarities," cries Jones, "that your master had
been a traveller."--"Yes, sir," answered she, "he hath been a very
great one: there be few gentlemen that know more of all matters than
he. I fancy he hath been crost in love, or whatever it is I know not;
but I have lived with him above these thirty years, and in all that
time he hath hardly spoke to six living people." She then again
solicited their departure, in which she was backed by Partridge; but
Jones purposely protracted the time, for his curiosity was greatly
raised to see this extraordinary person. Though the old woman,
therefore, concluded every one of her answers with desiring him to be
gone, and Partridge proceeded so far as to pull him by the sleeve, he
still continued to invent new questions, till the old woman, with an
affrighted countenance, declared she heard her master's signal; and at
the same instant more than one voice was heard without the door,
crying, "D--n your blood, show us your money this instant. Your money,
you villain, or we will blow your brains about your ears."

"O, good heaven!" cries the old woman, "some villains, to be sure,
have attacked my master. O la! what shall I do? what shall I
do?"--"How!" cries Jones, "how!--Are these pistols loaded?"--"O, good
sir, there is nothing in them, indeed. O pray don't murder us,
gentlemen!" (for in reality she now had the same opinion of those
within as she had of those without). Jones made her no answer; but
snatching an old broad sword which hung in the room, he instantly
sallied out, where he found the old gentleman struggling with two
ruffians, and begging for mercy. Jones asked no questions, but fell so
briskly to work with his broad sword, that the fellows immediately
quitted their hold; and without offering to attack our heroe, betook
themselves to their heels and made their escape; for he did not
attempt to pursue them, being contented with having delivered the old
gentleman; and indeed he concluded he had pretty well done their
business, for both of them, as they ran off, cried out with bitter
oaths that they were dead men.

Jones presently ran to lift up the old gentleman, who had been thrown
down in the scuffle, expressing at the same time great concern lest he
should have received any harm from the villains. The old man stared a
moment at Jones, and then cried, "No, sir, no, I have very little
harm, I thank you. Lord have mercy upon me!"--"I see, sir," said
Jones, "you are not free from apprehensions even of those who have had
the happiness to be your deliverers; nor can I blame any suspicions
which you may have; but indeed you have no real occasion for any; here
are none but your friends present. Having mist our way this cold
night, we took the liberty of warming ourselves at your fire, whence
we were just departing when we heard you call for assistance, which, I
must say, Providence alone seems to have sent you."--"Providence,
indeed," cries the old gentleman, "if it be so."--"So it is, I assure
you," cries Jones. "Here is your own sword, sir; I have used it in
your defence, and I now return it into your hand." The old man having
received the sword, which was stained with the blood of his enemies,
looked stedfastly at Jones during some moments, and then with a sigh
cried out, "You will pardon me, young gentleman; I was not always of a
suspicious temper, nor am I a friend to ingratitude."

"Be thankful then," cries Jones, "to that Providence to which you owe
your deliverance: as to my part, I have only discharged the common
duties of humanity, and what I would have done for any fellow-creature
in your situation."--"Let me look at you a little longer," cries the
old gentleman. "You are a human creature then? Well, perhaps you are.
Come pray walk into my little hutt. You have been my deliverer
indeed."

The old woman was distracted between the fears which she had of her
master, and for him; and Partridge was, if possible, in a greater
fright. The former of these, however, when she heard her master speak
kindly to Jones, and perceived what had happened, came again to
herself; but Partridge no sooner saw the gentleman, than the
strangeness of his dress infused greater terrors into that poor fellow
than he had before felt, either from the strange description which he
had heard, or from the uproar which had happened at the door.

To say the truth, it was an appearance which might have affected a
more constant mind than that of Mr Partridge. This person was of the
tallest size, with a long beard as white as snow. His body was
cloathed with the skin of an ass, made something into the form of a
coat. He wore likewise boots on his legs, and a cap on his head, both
composed of the skin of some other animals.

As soon as the old gentleman came into his house, the old woman began
her congratulations on his happy escape from the ruffians. "Yes,"
cried he, "I have escaped, indeed, thanks to my preserver."--"O the
blessing on him!" answered she: "he is a good gentleman, I warrant
him. I was afraid your worship would have been angry with me for
letting him in; and to be certain I should not have done it, had not I
seen by the moon-light, that he was a gentleman, and almost frozen to
death. And to be certain it must have been some good angel that sent
him hither, and tempted me to do it."

"I am afraid, sir," said the old gentleman to Jones, "that I have
nothing in this house which you can either eat or drink, unless you
will accept a dram of brandy; of which I can give you some most
excellent, and which I have had by me these thirty years." Jones
declined this offer in a very civil and proper speech, and then the
other asked him, "Whither he was travelling when he mist his way?"
saying, "I must own myself surprized to see such a person as you
appear to be, journeying on foot at this time of night. I suppose,
sir, you are a gentleman of these parts; for you do not look like one
who is used to travel far without horses?"

"Appearances," cried Jones, "are often deceitful; men sometimes look
what they are not. I assure you I am not of this country; and whither
I am travelling, in reality I scarce know myself."

"Whoever you are, or whithersoever you are going," answered the old
man, "I have obligations to you which I can never return."

"I once more," replied Jones, "affirm that you have none; for there
can be no merit in having hazarded that in your service on which I set
no value; and nothing is so contemptible in my eyes as life."

"I am sorry, young gentleman," answered the stranger, "that you have
any reason to be so unhappy at your years."

"Indeed I am, sir," answered Jones, "the most unhappy of
mankind."--"Perhaps you have had a friend, or a mistress?" replied the
other. "How could you," cries Jones, "mention two words sufficient to
drive me to distraction?"--"Either of them are enough to drive any man
to distraction," answered the old man. "I enquire no farther, sir;
perhaps my curiosity hath led me too far already."

"Indeed, sir," cries Jones, "I cannot censure a passion which I feel
at this instant in the highest degree. You will pardon me when I
assure you, that everything which I have seen or heard since I first
entered this house hath conspired to raise the greatest curiosity in
me. Something very extraordinary must have determined you to this
course of life, and I have reason to fear your own history is not
without misfortunes."

Here the old gentleman again sighed, and remained silent for some
minutes: at last, looking earnestly on Jones, he said, "I have read
that a good countenance is a letter of recommendation; if so, none
ever can be more strongly recommended than yourself. If I did not feel
some yearnings towards you from another consideration, I must be the
most ungrateful monster upon earth; and I am really concerned it is no
otherwise in my power than by words to convince you of my gratitude."

Jones, after a moment's hesitation, answered, "That it was in his
power by words to gratify him extremely. I have confest a curiosity,"
said he, "sir; need I say how much obliged I should be to you, if you
would condescend to gratify it? Will you suffer me therefore to beg,
unless any consideration restrains you, that you would be pleased to
acquaint me what motives have induced you thus to withdraw from the
society of mankind, and to betake yourself to a course of life to
which it sufficiently appears you were not born?"

"I scarce think myself at liberty to refuse you anything after what
hath happened," replied the old man. "If you desire therefore to hear
the story of an unhappy man, I will relate it to you. Indeed you judge
rightly, in thinking there is commonly something extraordinary in the
fortunes of those who fly from society; for however it may seem a
paradox, or even a contradiction, certain it is, that great
philanthropy chiefly inclines us to avoid and detest mankind; not on
account so much of their private and selfish vices, but for those of a
relative kind; such as envy, malice, treachery, cruelty, with every
other species of malevolence. These are the vices which true
philanthropy abhors, and which rather than see and converse with, she
avoids society itself. However, without a compliment to you, you do
not appear to me one of those whom I should shun or detest; nay, I
must say, in what little hath dropt from you, there appears some
parity in our fortunes: I hope, however, yours will conclude more
successfully."

Here some compliments passed between our heroe and his host, and then
the latter was going to begin his history, when Partridge interrupted
him. His apprehensions had now pretty well left him, but some effects
of his terrors remained; he therefore reminded the gentleman of that
excellent brandy which he had mentioned. This was presently brought,
and Partridge swallowed a large bumper.

The gentleman then, without any farther preface, began as you may read
in the next chapter.



Chapter xi.

In which the Man of the Hill begins to relate his history.


"I was born in a village of Somersetshire, called Mark, in the year
1657. My father was one of those whom they call gentlemen farmers. He
had a little estate of about £300 a year of his own, and rented
another estate of near the same value. He was prudent and industrious,
and so good a husbandman, that he might have led a very easy and
comfortable life, had not an arrant vixen of a wife soured his
domestic quiet. But though this circumstance perhaps made him
miserable, it did not make him poor; for he confined her almost
entirely at home, and rather chose to bear eternal upbraidings in his
own house, than to injure his fortune by indulging her in the
extravagancies she desired abroad.

"By this Xanthippe" (so was the wife of Socrates called, said
Partridge)--"by this Xanthippe he had two sons, of which I was the
younger. He designed to give us both good education; but my elder
brother, who, unhappily for him, was the favourite of my mother,
utterly neglected his learning; insomuch that, after having been five
or six years at school with little or no improvement, my father, being
told by his master that it would be to no purpose to keep him longer
there, at last complied with my mother in taking him home from the
hands of that tyrant, as she called his master; though indeed he gave
the lad much less correction than his idleness deserved, but much
more, it seems, than the young gentleman liked, who constantly
complained to his mother of his severe treatment, and she as
constantly gave him a hearing."

"Yes, yes," cries Partridge, "I have seen such mothers; I have been
abused myself by them, and very unjustly; such parents deserve
correction as much as their children."

Jones chid the pedagogue for his interruption, and then the stranger
proceeded.

"My brother now, at the age of fifteen, bade adieu to all learning,
and to everything else but to his dog and gun; with which latter he
became so expert, that, though perhaps you may think it incredible, he
could not only hit a standing mark with great certainty, but hath
actually shot a crow as it was flying in the air. He was likewise
excellent at finding a hare sitting, and was soon reputed one of the
best sportsmen in the country; a reputation which both he and his
mother enjoyed as much as if he had been thought the finest scholar.

"The situation of my brother made me at first think my lot the harder,
in being continued at school: but I soon changed my opinion; for as I
advanced pretty fast in learning, my labours became easy, and my
exercise so delightful, that holidays were my most unpleasant time;
for my mother, who never loved me, now apprehending that I had the
greater share of my father's affection, and finding, or at least
thinking, that I was more taken notice of by some gentlemen of
learning, and particularly by the parson of the parish, than my
brother, she now hated my sight, and made home so disagreeable to me,
that what is called by school-boys Black Monday, was to me the whitest
in the whole year.

"Having at length gone through the school at Taunton, I was thence
removed to Exeter College in Oxford, where I remained four years; at
the end of which an accident took me off entirely from my studies; and
hence, I may truly date the rise of all which happened to me
afterwards in life.

"There was at the same college with myself one Sir George Gresham, a
young fellow who was intitled to a very considerable fortune, which he
was not, by the will of his father, to come into full possession of
till he arrived at the age of twenty-five. However, the liberality of
his guardians gave him little cause to regret the abundant caution of
his father; for they allowed him five hundred pounds a year while he
remained at the university, where he kept his horses and his whore,
and lived as wicked and as profligate a life as he could have done had
he been never so entirely master of his fortune; for besides the five
hundred a year which he received from his guardians, he found means to
spend a thousand more. He was above the age of twenty-one, and had no
difficulty in gaining what credit he pleased.

"This young fellow, among many other tolerable bad qualities, had one
very diabolical. He had a great delight in destroying and ruining the
youth of inferior fortune, by drawing them into expenses which they
could not afford so well as himself; and the better, and worthier, and
soberer any young man was, the greater pleasure and triumph had he in
his destruction. Thus acting the character which is recorded of the
devil, and going about seeking whom he might devour.

"It was my misfortune to fall into an acquaintance and intimacy with
this gentleman. My reputation of diligence in my studies made me a
desirable object of his mischievous intention; and my own inclination
made it sufficiently easy for him to effect his purpose; for though I
had applied myself with much industry to books, in which I took great
delight, there were other pleasures in which I was capable of taking
much greater; for I was high-mettled, had a violent flow of animal
spirits, was a little ambitious, and extremely amorous.

"I had not long contracted an intimacy with Sir George before I became
a partaker of all his pleasures; and when I was once entered on that
scene, neither my inclination nor my spirit would suffer me to play an
under part. I was second to none of the company in any acts of
debauchery; nay, I soon distinguished myself so notably in all riots
and disorders, that my name generally stood first in the roll of
delinquents; and instead of being lamented as the unfortunate pupil of
Sir George, I was now accused as the person who had misled and
debauched that hopeful young gentleman; for though he was the
ringleader and promoter of all the mischief, he was never so
considered. I fell at last under the censure of the vice-chancellor,
and very narrowly escaped expulsion.

"You will easily believe, sir, that such a life as I am now describing
must be incompatible with my further progress in learning; and that in
proportion as I addicted myself more and more to loose pleasure, I
must grow more and more remiss in application to my studies. This was
truly the consequence; but this was not all. My expenses now greatly
exceeded not only my former income, but those additions which I
extorted from my poor generous father, on pretences of sums being
necessary for preparing for my approaching degree of batchelor of
arts. These demands, however, grew at last so frequent and exorbitant,
that my father by slow degrees opened his ears to the accounts which
he received from many quarters of my present behaviour, and which my
mother failed not to echo very faithfully and loudly; adding, `Ay,
this is the fine gentleman, the scholar who doth so much honour to his
family, and is to be the making of it. I thought what all this
learning would come to. He is to be the ruin of us all, I find, after
his elder brother hath been denied necessaries for his sake, to
perfect his education forsooth, for which he was to pay us such
interest: I thought what the interest would come to,' with much more
of the same kind; but I have, I believe, satisfied you with this
taste.

"My father, therefore, began now to return remonstrances instead of
money to my demands, which brought my affairs perhaps a little sooner
to a crisis; but had he remitted me his whole income, you will imagine
it could have sufficed a very short time to support one who kept pace
with the expenses of Sir George Gresham.

"It is more than possible that the distress I was now in for money,
and the impracticability of going on in this manner, might have
restored me at once to my senses and to my studies, had I opened my
eyes before I became involved in debts from which I saw no hopes of
ever extricating myself. This was indeed the great art of Sir George,
and by which he accomplished the ruin of many, whom he afterwards
laughed at as fools and coxcombs, for vying, as he called it, with a
man of his fortune. To bring this about, he would now and then advance
a little money himself, in order to support the credit of the
unfortunate youth with other people; till, by means of that very
credit, he was irretrievably undone.

"My mind being by these means grown as desperate as my fortune, there
was scarce a wickedness which I did not meditate, in order for my
relief. Self-murder itself became the subject of my serious
deliberation; and I had certainly resolved on it, had not a more
shameful, though perhaps less sinful, thought expelled it from my
head."--Here he hesitated a moment, and then cried out, "I protest, so
many years have not washed away the shame of this act, and I shall
blush while I relate it." Jones desired him to pass over anything that
might give him pain in the relation; but Partridge eagerly cried out,
"Oh, pray, sir, let us hear this; I had rather hear this than all the
rest; as I hope to be saved, I will never mention a word of it." Jones
was going to rebuke him, but the stranger prevented it by proceeding
thus: "I had a chum, a very prudent, frugal young lad, who, though he
had no very large allowance, had by his parsimony heaped up upwards of
forty guineas, which I knew he kept in his escritore. I took therefore
an opportunity of purloining his key from his breeches-pocket, while
he was asleep, and thus made myself master of all his riches: after
which I again conveyed his key into his pocket, and counterfeiting
sleep--though I never once closed my eyes, lay in bed till after he
arose and went to prayers--an exercise to which I had long been
unaccustomed.

"Timorous thieves, by extreme caution, often subject themselves to
discoveries, which those of a bolder kind escape. Thus it happened to
me; for had I boldly broke open his escritore, I had, perhaps, escaped
even his suspicion; but as it was plain that the person who robbed him
had possessed himself of his key, he had no doubt, when he first
missed his money, but that his chum was certainly the thief. Now as he
was of a fearful disposition, and much my inferior in strength, and I
believe in courage, he did not dare to confront me with my guilt, for
fear of worse bodily consequences which might happen to him. He
repaired therefore immediately to the vice-chancellor, and upon
swearing to the robbery, and to the circumstances of it, very easily
obtained a warrant against one who had now so bad a character through
the whole university.

"Luckily for me, I lay out of the college the next evening; for that
day I attended a young lady in a chaise to Witney, where we staid all
night, and in our return, the next morning, to Oxford, I met one of my
cronies, who acquainted me with sufficient news concerning myself to
make me turn my horse another way."

"Pray, sir, did he mention anything of the warrant?" said Partridge.
But Jones begged the gentleman to proceed without regarding any
impertinent questions; which he did as follows:--

"Having now abandoned all thoughts of returning to Oxford, the next
thing which offered itself was a journey to London. I imparted this
intention to my female companion, who at first remonstrated against
it; but upon producing my wealth, she immediately consented. We then
struck across the country, into the great Cirencester road, and made
such haste, that we spent the next evening, save one, in London.

"When you consider the place where I now was, and the company with
whom I was, you will, I fancy, conceive that a very short time brought
me to an end of that sum of which I had so iniquitously possessed
myself.

"I was now reduced to a much higher degree of distress than before:
the necessaries of life began to be numbered among my wants; and what
made my case still the more grievous was, that my paramour, of whom I
was now grown immoderately fond, shared the same distresses with
myself. To see a woman you love in distress; to be unable to relieve
her, and at the same time to reflect that you have brought her into
this situation, is perhaps a curse of which no imagination can
represent the horrors to those who have not felt it."--"I believe it
from my soul," cries Jones, "and I pity you from the bottom of my
heart:" he then took two or three disorderly turns about the room, and
at last begged pardon, and flung himself into his chair, crying, "I
thank Heaven, I have escaped that!"

"This circumstance," continued the gentleman, "so severely aggravated
the horrors of my present situation, that they became absolutely
intolerable. I could with less pain endure the raging in my own
natural unsatisfied appetites, even hunger or thirst, than I could
submit to leave ungratified the most whimsical desires of a woman on
whom I so extravagantly doated, that, though I knew she had been the
mistress of half my acquaintance, I firmly intended to marry her. But
the good creature was unwilling to consent to an action which the
world might think so much to my disadvantage. And as, possibly, she
compassionated the daily anxieties which she must have perceived me
suffer on her account, she resolved to put an end to my distress. She
soon, indeed, found means to relieve me from my troublesome and
perplexed situation; for while I was distracted with various
inventions to supply her with pleasures, she very kindly--betrayed me
to one of her former lovers at Oxford, by whose care and diligence I
was immediately apprehended and committed to gaol.

"Here I first began seriously to reflect on the miscarriages of my
former life; on the errors I had been guilty of; on the misfortunes
which I had brought on myself; and on the grief which I must have
occasioned to one of the best of fathers. When I added to all these
the perfidy of my mistress, such was the horror of my mind, that life,
instead of being longer desirable, grew the object of my abhorrence;
and I could have gladly embraced death as my dearest friend, if it had
offered itself to my choice unattended by shame.

"The time of the assizes soon came, and I was removed by habeas corpus
to Oxford, where I expected certain conviction and condemnation; but,
to my great surprize, none appeared against me, and I was, at the end
of the sessions, discharged for want of prosecution. In short, my chum