Chapter iv.

Containing a necessary apology for the author; and a childish

incident, which perhaps requires an apology likewise.

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.