Chapter iv.

Containing such very deep and grave matters, that some readers,

perhaps, may not relish it.

Square had no sooner lighted his pipe, than, addressing himself to

Allworthy, he thus began: “Sir, I cannot help congratulating you on

your nephew; who, at an age when few lads have any ideas but of

sensible objects, is arrived at a capacity of distinguishing right

from wrong. To confine anything, seems to me against the law of

nature, by which everything hath a right to liberty. These were his

words; and the impression they have made on me is never to be

eradicated. Can any man have a higher notion of the rule of right, and

the eternal fitness of things? I cannot help promising myself, from

such a dawn, that the meridian of this youth will be equal to that of

either the elder or the younger Brutus.”

Here Thwackum hastily interrupted, and spilling some of his wine, and

swallowing the rest with great eagerness, answered, “From another

expression he made use of, I hope he will resemble much better men.

The law of nature is a jargon of words, which means nothing. I know

not of any such law, nor of any right which can be derived from it. To

do as we would be done by, is indeed a Christian motive, as the boy

well expressed himself; and I am glad to find my instructions have

borne such good fruit.”

“If vanity was a thing fit,” says Square, “I might indulge some on the

same occasion; for whence only he can have learnt his notions of right

or wrong, I think is pretty apparent. If there be no law of nature,

there is no right nor wrong.”

“How!” says the parson, “do you then banish revelation? Am I talking

with a deist or an atheist?”

“Drink about,” says Western. “Pox of your laws of nature! I don't know

what you mean, either of you, by right and wrong. To take away my

girl's bird was wrong, in my opinion; and my neighbour Allworthy may

do as he pleases; but to encourage boys in such practices, is to breed

them up to the gallows.”

Allworthy answered, “That he was sorry for what his nephew had done,

but could not consent to punish him, as he acted rather from a

generous than unworthy motive.” He said, “If the boy had stolen the

bird, none would have been more ready to vote for a severe

chastisement than himself; but it was plain that was not his design:”

and, indeed, it was as apparent to him, that he could have no other

view but what he had himself avowed. (For as to that malicious purpose

which Sophia suspected, it never once entered into the head of Mr

Allworthy.) He at length concluded with again blaming the action as

inconsiderate, and which, he said, was pardonable only in a child.

Square had delivered his opinion so openly, that if he was now silent,

he must submit to have his judgment censured. He said, therefore, with

some warmth, “That Mr Allworthy had too much respect to the dirty

consideration of property. That in passing our judgments on great and

mighty actions, all private regards should be laid aside; for by

adhering to those narrow rules, the younger Brutus had been condemned

of ingratitude, and the elder of parricide.”

“And if they had been hanged too for those crimes,” cried Thwackum,

“they would have had no more than their deserts. A couple of

heathenish villains! Heaven be praised we have no Brutuses now-a-days!

I wish, Mr Square, you would desist from filling the minds of my

pupils with such antichristian stuff; for the consequence must be,

while they are under my care, its being well scourged out of them

again. There is your disciple Tom almost spoiled already. I overheard

him the other day disputing with Master Blifil that there was no merit

in faith without works. I know that is one of your tenets, and I

suppose he had it from you.”

“Don't accuse me of spoiling him,” says Square. “Who taught him to

laugh at whatever is virtuous and decent, and fit and right in the

nature of things? He is your own scholar, and I disclaim him. No, no,

Master Blifil is my boy. Young as he is, that lad's notions of moral

rectitude I defy you ever to eradicate.”

Thwackum put on a contemptuous sneer at this, and replied, “Ay, ay, I

will venture him with you. He is too well grounded for all your

philosophical cant to hurt. No, no, I have taken care to instil such

principles into him--”

“And I have instilled principles into him too,” cries Square. “What

but the sublime idea of virtue could inspire a human mind with the

generous thought of giving liberty? And I repeat to you again, if it

was a fit thing to be proud, I might claim the honour of having

infused that idea.”--

“And if pride was not forbidden,” said Thwackum, “I might boast of

having taught him that duty which he himself assigned as his motive.”

“So between you both,” says the squire, “the young gentleman hath been

taught to rob my daughter of her bird. I find I must take care of my

partridge-mew. I shall have some virtuous religious man or other set

all my partridges at liberty.” Then slapping a gentleman of the law,

who was present, on the back, he cried out, “What say you to this, Mr

Counsellor? Is not this against law?”

The lawyer with great gravity delivered himself as follows:--

“If the case be put of a partridge, there can be no doubt but an

action would lie; for though this be _ferae naturae_, yet being

reclaimed, property vests: but being the case of a singing bird,

though reclaimed, as it is a thing of base nature, it must be

considered as _nullius in bonis_. In this case, therefore, I conceive

the plaintiff must be non-suited; and I should disadvise the bringing

any such action.”

“Well,” says the squire, “if it be _nullus bonus_, let us drink about,

and talk a little of the state of the nation, or some such discourse

that we all understand; for I am sure I don't understand a word of

this. It may be learning and sense for aught I know: but you shall

never persuade me into it. Pox! you have neither of you mentioned a

word of that poor lad who deserves to be commended: to venture

breaking his neck to oblige my girl was a generous-spirited action: I

have learning enough to see that. D--n me, here's Tom's health! I

shall love the boy for it the longest day I have to live.”

Thus was the debate interrupted; but it would probably have been soon

resumed, had not Mr Allworthy presently called for his coach, and

carried off the two combatants.

Such was the conclusion of this adventure of the bird, and of the

dialogue occasioned by it; which we could not help recounting to our

reader, though it happened some years before that stage or period of

time at which our history is now arrived.