Chapter vi.

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

opposing that doctrine concerning the meaning of the word charity,

which hath been seen in the preceding chapter, than our good man.

Indeed, he was equally intitled to this virtue in either sense; for as

no man was ever more sensible of the wants, or more ready to relieve

the distresses of others, so none could be more tender of their

characters, or slower to believe anything to their disadvantage.

Scandal, therefore, never found any access to his table; for as it

hath been long since observed that you may know a man by his

companions, so I will venture to say, that, by attending to the

conversation at a great man's table, you may satisfy yourself of his

religion, his politics, his taste, and indeed of his entire

disposition: for though a few odd fellows will utter their own

sentiments in all places, yet much the greater part of mankind have

enough of the courtier to accommodate their conversation to the taste

and inclination of their superiors.

But to return to Mrs Wilkins, who, having executed her commission with

great dispatch, though at fifteen miles distance, brought back such a

confirmation of the schoolmaster's guilt, that Mr Allworthy determined

to send for the criminal, and examine him _viva voce_. Mr Partridge,

therefore, was summoned to attend, in order to his defence (if he

could make any) against this accusation.

At the time appointed, before Mr Allworthy himself, at Paradise-hall,

came as well the said Partridge, with Anne, his wife, as Mrs Wilkins

his accuser.

And now Mr Allworthy being seated in the chair of justice, Mr

Partridge was brought before him. Having heard his accusation from the

mouth of Mrs Wilkins, he pleaded not guilty, making many vehement

protestations of his innocence.

Mrs Partridge was then examined, who, after a modest apology for being

obliged to speak the truth against her husband, related all the

circumstances with which the reader hath already been acquainted; and

at last concluded with her husband's confession of his guilt.

Whether she had forgiven him or no, I will not venture to determine;

but it is certain she was an unwilling witness in this cause; and it

is probable from certain other reasons, would never have been brought

to depose as she did, had not Mrs Wilkins, with great art, fished all

out of her at her own house, and had she not indeed made promises, in

Mr Allworthy's name, that the punishment of her husband should not be

such as might anywise affect his family.

Partridge still persisted in asserting his innocence, though he

admitted he had made the above-mentioned confession; which he however

endeavoured to account for, by protesting that he was forced into it

by the continued importunity she used: who vowed, that, as she was

sure of his guilt, she would never leave tormenting him till he had

owned it; and faithfully promised, that, in such case, she would never

mention it to him more. Hence, he said, he had been induced falsely to

confess himself guilty, though he was innocent; and that he believed

he should have confest a murder from the same motive.

Mrs Partridge could not bear this imputation with patience; and having

no other remedy in the present place but tears, she called forth a

plentiful assistance from them, and then addressing herself to Mr

Allworthy, she said (or rather cried), “May it please your worship,

there never was any poor woman so injured as I am by that base man;

for this is not the only instance of his falsehood to me. No, may it

please your worship, he hath injured my bed many's the good time and

often. I could have put up with his drunkenness and neglect of his

business, if he had not broke one of the sacred commandments. Besides,

if it had been out of doors I had not mattered it so much; but with my

own servant, in my own house, under my own roof, to defile my own

chaste bed, which to be sure he hath, with his beastly stinking

whores. Yes, you villain, you have defiled my own bed, you have; and

then you have charged me with bullocking you into owning the truth. It

is very likely, an't please your worship, that I should bullock him? I

have marks enow about my body to show of his cruelty to me. If you had

been a man, you villain, you would have scorned to injure a woman in

that manner. But you an't half a man, you know it. Nor have you been

half a husband to me. You need run after whores, you need, when I'm

sure--And since he provokes me, I am ready, an't please your worship,

to take my bodily oath that I found them a-bed together. What, you

have forgot, I suppose, when you beat me into a fit, and made the

blood run down my forehead, because I only civilly taxed you with

adultery! but I can prove it by all my neighbours. You have almost

broke my heart, you have, you have.”

Here Mr Allworthy interrupted, and begged her to be pacified,

promising her that she should have justice; then turning to Partridge,

who stood aghast, one half of his wits being hurried away by surprize

and the other half by fear, he said he was sorry to see there was so

wicked a man in the world. He assured him that his prevaricating and

lying backward and forward was a great aggravation of his guilt; for

which the only atonement he could make was by confession and

repentance. He exhorted him, therefore, to begin by immediately

confessing the fact, and not to persist in denying what was so plainly

proved against him even by his own wife.

Here, reader, I beg your patience a moment, while I make a just

compliment to the great wisdom and sagacity of our law, which refuses

to admit the evidence of a wife for or against her husband. This, says

a certain learned author, who, I believe, was never quoted before in

any but a law-book, would be the means of creating an eternal

dissension between them. It would, indeed, be the means of much

perjury, and of much whipping, fining, imprisoning, transporting, and

hanging.

Partridge stood a while silent, till, being bid to speak, he said he

had already spoken the truth, and appealed to Heaven for his

innocence, and lastly to the girl herself, whom he desired his worship

immediately to send for; for he was ignorant, or at least pretended to

be so, that she had left that part of the country.

Mr Allworthy, whose natural love of justice, joined to his coolness of

temper, made him always a most patient magistrate in hearing all the

witnesses which an accused person could produce in his defence, agreed

to defer his final determination of this matter till the arrival of

Jenny, for whom he immediately dispatched a messenger; and then having

recommended peace between Partridge and his wife (though he addressed

himself chiefly to the wrong person), he appointed them to attend

again the third day; for he had sent Jenny a whole day's journey from

his own house.

At the appointed time the parties all assembled, when the messenger

returning brought word, that Jenny was not to be found; for that she

had left her habitation a few days before, in company with a

recruiting officer.

Mr Allworthy then declared that the evidence of such a slut as she

appeared to be would have deserved no credit; but he said he could not

help thinking that, had she been present, and would have declared the

truth, she must have confirmed what so many circumstances, together

with his own confession, and the declaration of his wife that she had

caught her husband in the fact, did sufficiently prove. He therefore

once more exhorted Partridge to confess; but he still avowing his

innocence, Mr Allworthy declared himself satisfied of his guilt, and

that he was too bad a man to receive any encouragement from him. He

therefore deprived him of his annuity, and recommended repentance to

him on account of another world, and industry to maintain himself and

his wife in this.

There were not, perhaps, many more unhappy persons than poor

Partridge. He had lost the best part of his income by the evidence of

his wife, and yet was daily upbraided by her for having, among other

things, been the occasion of depriving her of that benefit; but such

was his fortune, and he was obliged to submit to it.

Though I called him poor Partridge in the last paragraph, I would have

the reader rather impute that epithet to the compassion in my temper

than conceive it to be any declaration of his innocence. Whether he

was innocent or not will perhaps appear hereafter; but if the historic

muse hath entrusted me with any secrets, I will by no means be guilty

of discovering them till she shall give me leave.

Here therefore the reader must suspend his curiosity. Certain it is

that, whatever was the truth of the case, there was evidence more than

sufficient to convict him before Allworthy; indeed, much less would

have satisfied a bench of justices on an order of bastardy; and yet,

notwithstanding the positiveness of Mrs Partridge, who would have

taken the sacrament upon the matter, there is a possibility that the

schoolmaster was entirely innocent: for though it appeared clear on

comparing the time when Jenny departed from Little Baddington with

that of her delivery that she had there conceived this infant, yet it

by no means followed of necessity that Partridge must have been its

father; for, to omit other particulars, there was in the same house a

lad near eighteen, between whom and Jenny there had subsisted

sufficient intimacy to found a reasonable suspicion; and yet, so blind

is jealousy, this circumstance never once entered into the head of the

enraged wife.

Whether Partridge repented or not, according to Mr Allworthy's advice,

is not so apparent. Certain it is that his wife repented heartily of

the evidence she had given against him: especially when she found Mrs

Deborah had deceived her, and refused to make any application to Mr

Allworthy on her behalf. She had, however, somewhat better success

with Mrs Blifil, who was, as the reader must have perceived, a much

better-tempered woman, and very kindly undertook to solicit her

brother to restore the annuity; in which, though good-nature might

have some share, yet a stronger and more natural motive will appear in

the next chapter.

These solicitations were nevertheless unsuccessful: for though Mr

Allworthy did not think, with some late writers, that mercy consists

only in punishing offenders; yet he was as far from thinking that it

is proper to this excellent quality to pardon great criminals

wantonly, without any reason whatever. Any doubtfulness of the fact,

or any circumstance of mitigation, was never disregarded: but the

petitions of an offender, or the intercessions of others, did not in

the least affect him. In a word, he never pardoned because the

offender himself, or his friends, were unwilling that he should be

punished.

Partridge and his wife were therefore both obliged to submit to their

fate; which was indeed severe enough: for so far was he from doubling

his industry on the account of his lessened income, that he did in a

manner abandon himself to despair; and as he was by nature indolent,

that vice now increased upon him, by which means he lost the little

school he had; so that neither his wife nor himself would have had any

bread to eat, had not the charity of some good Christian interposed,

and provided them with what was just sufficient for their sustenance.

As this support was conveyed to them by an unknown hand, they

imagined, and so, I doubt not, will the reader, that Mr Allworthy

himself was their secret benefactor; who, though he would not openly

encourage vice, could yet privately relieve the distresses of the

vicious themselves, when these became too exquisite and

disproportionate to their demerit. In which light their wretchedness

appeared now to Fortune herself; for she at length took pity on this

miserable couple, and considerably lessened the wretched state of

Partridge, by putting a final end to that of his wife, who soon after

caught the small-pox, and died.

The justice which Mr Allworthy had executed on Partridge at first met

with universal approbation; but no sooner had he felt its

consequences, than his neighbours began to relent, and to

compassionate his case; and presently after, to blame that as rigour

and severity which they before called justice. They now exclaimed

against punishing in cold blood, and sang forth the praises of mercy

and forgiveness.

These cries were considerably increased by the death of Mrs Partridge,

which, though owing to the distemper above mentioned, which is no

consequence of poverty or distress, many were not ashamed to impute to

Mr Allworthy's severity, or, as they now termed it, cruelty.

Partridge having now lost his wife, his school, and his annuity, and

the unknown person having now discontinued the last-mentioned charity,

resolved to change the scene, and left the country, where he was in

danger of starving, with the universal compassion of all his

neighbours.