Chapter ix.

In which Jones pays a visit to Mrs Fitzpatrick.

The reader may now, perhaps, be pleased to return with us to Mr Jones,

who, at the appointed hour, attended on Mrs Fitzpatrick; but before we

relate the conversation which now past it may be proper, according to

our method, to return a little back, and to account for so great an

alteration of behaviour in this lady, that from changing her lodging

principally to avoid Mr Jones, she had now industriously, as hath been

seen, sought this interview.

And here we shall need only to resort to what happened the preceding

day, when, hearing from Lady Bellaston that Mr Western was arrived in

town, she went to pay her duty to him, at his lodgings at Piccadilly,

where she was received with many scurvy compellations too coarse to be

repeated, and was even threatened to be kicked out of doors. From

hence, an old servant of her aunt Western, with whom she was well

acquainted, conducted her to the lodgings of that lady, who treated

her not more kindly, but more politely; or, to say the truth, with

rudeness in another way. In short, she returned from both, plainly

convinced, not only that her scheme of reconciliation had proved

abortive, but that she must for ever give over all thoughts of

bringing it about by any means whatever. From this moment desire of

revenge only filled her mind; and in this temper meeting Jones at the

play, an opportunity seemed to her to occur of effecting this purpose.

The reader must remember that he was acquainted by Mrs Fitzpatrick, in

the account she gave of her own story, with the fondness Mrs Western

had formerly shewn for Mr Fitzpatrick at Bath, from the disappointment

of which Mrs Fitzpatrick derived the great bitterness her aunt had

expressed toward her. She had, therefore, no doubt but that the good

lady would as easily listen to the addresses of Mr Jones as she had

before done to the other; for the superiority of charms was clearly on

the side of Mr Jones; and the advance which her aunt had since made in

age, she concluded (how justly I will not say), was an argument rather

in favour of her project than against it.

Therefore, when Jones attended, after a previous declaration of her

desire of serving him, arising, as she said, from a firm assurance how

much she should by so doing oblige Sophia; and after some excuses for

her former disappointment, and after acquainting Mr Jones in whose

custody his mistress was, of which she thought him ignorant; she very

explicitly mentioned her scheme to him, and advised him to make sham

addresses to the older lady, in order to procure an easy access to the

younger, informing him at the same time of the success which Mr

Fitzpatrick had formerly owed to the very same stratagem.

Mr Jones expressed great gratitude to the lady for the kind intentions

towards him which she had expressed, and indeed testified, by this

proposal; but, besides intimating some diffidence of success from the

lady's knowledge of his love to her niece, which had not been her case

in regard to Mr Fitzpatrick, he said, he was afraid Miss Western would

never agree to an imposition of this kind, as well from her utter

detestation of all fallacy as from her avowed duty to her aunt.

Mrs Fitzpatrick was a little nettled at this; and indeed, if it may

not be called a lapse of the tongue, it was a small deviation from

politeness in Jones, and into which he scarce would have fallen, had

not the delight he felt in praising Sophia hurried him out of all

reflection; for this commendation of one cousin was more than a tacit

rebuke on the other.

“Indeed, sir,” answered the lady, with some warmth, “I cannot think

there is anything easier than to cheat an old woman with a profession

of love, when her complexion is amorous; and, though she is my aunt, I

must say there never was a more liquorish one than her ladyship. Can't

you pretend that the despair of possessing her niece, from her being

promised to Blifil, has made you turn your thoughts towards her? As to

my cousin Sophia, I can't imagine her to be such a simpleton as to

have the least scruple on such an account, or to conceive any harm in

punishing one of these haggs for the many mischiefs they bring upon

families by their tragi-comic passions; for which I think it is a pity

they are not punishable by law. I had no such scruple myself; and yet

I hope my cousin Sophia will not think it an affront when I say she

cannot detest every real species of falsehood more than her cousin

Fitzpatrick. To my aunt, indeed, I pretend no duty, nor doth she

deserve any. However, sir, I have given you my advice; and if you

decline pursuing it, I shall have the less opinion of your

understanding--that's all.”

Jones now clearly saw the error he had committed, and exerted his

utmost power to rectify it; but he only faultered and stuttered into

nonsense and contradiction. To say the truth, it is often safer to

abide by the consequences of the first blunder than to endeavour to

rectify it; for by such endeavours we generally plunge deeper instead

of extricating ourselves; and few persons will on such occasions have

the good-nature which Mrs Fitzpatrick displayed to Jones, by saying,

with a smile, “You need attempt no more excuses; for I can easily

forgive a real lover, whatever is the effect of fondness for his

mistress.”

She then renewed her proposal, and very fervently recommended it,

omitting no argument which her invention could suggest on the subject;

for she was so violently incensed against her aunt, that scarce

anything was capable of affording her equal pleasure with exposing

her; and, like a true woman, she would see no difficulties in the

execution of a favourite scheme.

Jones, however, persisted in declining the undertaking, which had not,

indeed, the least probability of success. He easily perceived the

motives which induced Mrs Fitzpatrick to be so eager in pressing her

advice. He said he would not deny the tender and passionate regard he

had for Sophia; but was so conscious of the inequality of their

situations, that he could never flatter himself so far as to hope that

so divine a young lady would condescend to think on so unworthy a man;

nay, he protested, he could scarce bring himself to wish she should.

He concluded with a profession of generous sentiments, which we have

not at present leisure to insert.

There are some fine women (for I dare not here speak in too general

terms) with whom self is so predominant, that they never detach it

from any subject; and, as vanity is with them a ruling principle, they

are apt to lay hold of whatever praise they meet with; and, though the

property of others, convey it to their own use. In the company of

these ladies it is impossible to say anything handsome of another

woman which they will not apply to themselves; nay, they often improve

the praise they seize; as, for instance, if her beauty, her wit, her

gentility, her good humour deserve so much commendation, what do I

deserve, who possess those qualities in so much more eminent a degree?

To these ladies a man often recommends himself while he is commending

another woman; and, while he is expressing ardour and generous

sentiments for his mistress, they are considering what a charming

lover this man would make to them, who can feel all this tenderness

for an inferior degree of merit. Of this, strange as it may seem, I

have seen many instances besides Mrs Fitzpatrick, to whom all this

really happened, and who now began to feel a somewhat for Mr Jones,

the symptoms of which she much sooner understood than poor Sophia had

formerly done.

To say the truth, perfect beauty in both sexes is a more irresistible

object than it is generally thought; for, notwithstanding some of us

are contented with more homely lots, and learn by rote (as children to

repeat what gives them no idea) to despise outside, and to value more

solid charms; yet I have always observed, at the approach of

consummate beauty, that these more solid charms only shine with that

kind of lustre which the stars have after the rising of the sun.

When Jones had finished his exclamations, many of which would have

become the mouth of Oroöndates himself, Mrs Fitzpatrick heaved a

deep sigh, and, taking her eyes off from Jones, on whom they had been

some time fixed, and dropping them on the ground, she cried, “Indeed,

Mr Jones, I pity you; but it is the curse of such tenderness to be

thrown away on those who are insensible of it. I know my cousin better

than you, Mr Jones, and I must say, any woman who makes no return to

such a passion, and such a person, is unworthy of both.”

“Sure, madam,” said Jones, “you can't mean----” “Mean!” cries Mrs

Fitzpatrick, “I know not what I mean; there is something, I think, in

true tenderness bewitching; few women ever meet with it in men, and

fewer still know how to value it when they do. I never heard such

truly noble sentiments, and I can't tell how it is, but you force one

to believe you. Sure she must be the most contemptible of women who

can overlook such merit.”

The manner and look with which all this was spoke infused a suspicion

into Jones which we don't care to convey in direct words to the

reader. Instead of making any answer, he said, “I am afraid, madam, I

have made too tiresome a visit;” and offered to take his leave.

“Not at all, sir,” answered Mrs Fitzpatrick.--“Indeed I pity you, Mr

Jones; indeed I do: but if you are going, consider of the scheme I

have mentioned--I am convinced you will approve it--and let me see you

again as soon as you can.--To-morrow morning if you will, or at least

some time to-morrow. I shall be at home all day.”

Jones, then, after many expressions of thanks, very respectfully

retired; nor could Mrs Fitzpatrick forbear making him a present of a

look at parting, by which if he had understood nothing, he must have

had no understanding in the language of the eyes. In reality, it

confirmed his resolution of returning to her no more; for, faulty as

he hath hitherto appeared in this history, his whole thoughts were now

so confined to his Sophia, that I believe no woman upon earth could

have now drawn him into an act of inconstancy.

Fortune, however, who was not his friend, resolved, as he intended to

give her no second opportunity, to make the best of this; and

accordingly produced the tragical incident which we are now in

sorrowful notes to record.