Chapter ix.

Which, among other things, may serve as a comment on that saying of

Aeschines, that “drunkenness shows the mind of a man, as a mirrour

reflects his person.”

The reader may perhaps wonder at hearing nothing of Mr Jones in the

last chapter. In fact, his behaviour was so different from that of the

persons there mentioned, that we chose not to confound his name with

theirs.

When the good man had ended his speech, Jones was the last who

deserted the room. Thence he retired to his own apartment, to give

vent to his concern; but the restlessness of his mind would not suffer

him to remain long there; he slipped softly therefore to Allworthy's

chamber-door, where he listened a considerable time without hearing

any kind of motion within, unless a violent snoring, which at last his

fears misrepresented as groans. This so alarmed him, that he could not

forbear entering the room; where he found the good man in the bed, in

a sweet composed sleep, and his nurse snoring in the above mentioned

hearty manner, at the bed's feet. He immediately took the only method

of silencing this thorough bass, whose music he feared might disturb

Mr Allworthy; and then sitting down by the nurse, he remained

motionless till Blifil and the doctor came in together and waked the

sick man, in order that the doctor might feel his pulse, and that the

other might communicate to him that piece of news, which, had Jones

been apprized of it, would have had great difficulty of finding its

way to Mr Allworthy's ear at such a season.

When he first heard Blifil tell his uncle this story, Jones could

hardly contain the wrath which kindled in him at the other's

indiscretion, especially as the doctor shook his head, and declared

his unwillingness to have the matter mentioned to his patient. But as

his passion did not so far deprive him of all use of his

understanding, as to hide from him the consequences which any violent

expression towards Blifil might have on the sick, this apprehension

stilled his rage at the present; and he grew afterwards so satisfied

with finding that this news had, in fact, produced no mischief, that

he suffered his anger to die in his own bosom, without ever mentioning

it to Blifil.

The physician dined that day at Mr Allworthy's; and having after

dinner visited his patient, he returned to the company, and told them,

that he had now the satisfaction to say, with assurance, that his

patient was out of all danger: that he had brought his fever to a

perfect intermission, and doubted not by throwing in the bark to

prevent its return.

This account so pleased Jones, and threw him into such immoderate

excess of rapture, that he might be truly said to be drunk with

joy--an intoxication which greatly forwards the effects of wine; and

as he was very free too with the bottle on this occasion (for he drank

many bumpers to the doctor's health, as well as to other toasts) he

became very soon literally drunk.

Jones had naturally violent animal spirits: these being set on float

and augmented by the spirit of wine, produced most extravagant

effects. He kissed the doctor, and embraced him with the most

passionate endearments; swearing that next to Mr Allworthy himself, he

loved him of all men living. “Doctor,” added he, “you deserve a statue

to be erected to you at the public expense, for having preserved a

man, who is not only the darling of all good men who know him, but a

blessing to society, the glory of his country, and an honour to human

nature. D--n me if I don't love him better than my own soul.”

“More shame for you,” cries Thwackum. “Though I think you have reason

to love him, for he hath provided very well for you. And perhaps it

might have been better for some folks that he had not lived to see

just reason of revoking his gift.”

Jones now looking on Thwackum with inconceivable disdain, answered,

“And doth thy mean soul imagine that any such considerations could

weigh with me? No, let the earth open and swallow her own dirt (if I

had millions of acres I would say it) rather than swallow up my dear

glorious friend.”

_Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus

Tam chari capitis?_[*]

[*] “What modesty or measure can set bounds to our desire of so dear

a friend?” The word _desiderium_ here cannot be easily translated.

It includes our desire of enjoying our friend again, and the grief

which attends that desire.

The doctor now interposed, and prevented the effects of a wrath which

was kindling between Jones and Thwackum; after which the former gave a

loose to mirth, sang two or three amorous songs, and fell into every

frantic disorder which unbridled joy is apt to inspire; but so far was

he from any disposition to quarrel, that he was ten times better

humoured, if possible, than when he was sober.

To say truth, nothing is more erroneous than the common observation,

that men who are ill-natured and quarrelsome when they are drunk, are

very worthy persons when they are sober: for drink, in reality, doth

not reverse nature, or create passions in men which did not exist in

them before. It takes away the guard of reason, and consequently

forces us to produce those symptoms, which many, when sober, have art

enough to conceal. It heightens and inflames our passions (generally

indeed that passion which is uppermost in our mind), so that the angry

temper, the amorous, the generous, the good-humoured, the avaricious,

and all other dispositions of men, are in their cups heightened and

exposed.

And yet as no nation produces so many drunken quarrels, especially

among the lower people, as England (for indeed, with them, to drink

and to fight together are almost synonymous terms), I would not,

methinks, have it thence concluded, that the English are the

worst-natured people alive. Perhaps the love of glory only is at the

bottom of this; so that the fair conclusion seems to be, that our

countrymen have more of that love, and more of bravery, than any other

plebeians. And this the rather, as there is seldom anything

ungenerous, unfair, or ill-natured, exercised on these occasions: nay,

it is common for the combatants to express good-will for each other

even at the time of the conflict; and as their drunken mirth generally

ends in a battle, so do most of their battles end in friendship.

But to return to our history. Though Jones had shown no design of

giving offence, yet Mr Blifil was highly offended at a behaviour which

was so inconsistent with the sober and prudent reserve of his own

temper. He bore it too with the greater impatience, as it appeared to

him very indecent at this season; “When,” as he said, “the house was a

house of mourning, on the account of his dear mother; and if it had

pleased Heaven to give him some prospect of Mr Allworthy's recovery,

it would become them better to express the exultations of their hearts

in thanksgiving, than in drunkenness and riots; which were properer

methods to encrease the Divine wrath, than to avert it.” Thwackum, who

had swallowed more liquor than Jones, but without any ill effect on

his brain, seconded the pious harangue of Blifil; but Square, for

reasons which the reader may probably guess, was totally silent.

Wine had not so totally overpowered Jones, as to prevent his

recollecting Mr Blifil's loss, the moment it was mentioned. As no

person, therefore, was more ready to confess and condemn his own

errors, he offered to shake Mr Blifil by the hand, and begged his

pardon, saying, “His excessive joy for Mr Allworthy's recovery had

driven every other thought out of his mind.”

Blifil scornfully rejected his hand; and with much indignation

answered, “It was little to be wondered at, if tragical spectacles

made no impression on the blind; but, for his part, he had the

misfortune to know who his parents were, and consequently must be

affected with their loss.”

Jones, who, notwithstanding his good humour, had some mixture of the

irascible in his constitution, leaped hastily from his chair, and

catching hold of Blifil's collar, cried out, “D--n you for a rascal,

do you insult me with the misfortune of my birth?” He accompanied

these words with such rough actions, that they soon got the better of

Mr Blifil's peaceful temper; and a scuffle immediately ensued, which

might have produced mischief, had it not been prevented by the

interposition of Thwackum and the physician; for the philosophy of

Square rendered him superior to all emotions, and he very calmly

smoaked his pipe, as was his custom in all broils, unless when he

apprehended some danger of having it broke in his mouth.

The combatants being now prevented from executing present vengeance on

each other, betook themselves to the common resources of disappointed

rage, and vented their wrath in threats and defiance. In this kind of

conflict, Fortune, which, in the personal attack, seemed to incline to

Jones, was now altogether as favourable to his enemy.

A truce, nevertheless, was at length agreed on, by the mediation of

the neutral parties, and the whole company again sat down at the

table; where Jones being prevailed on to ask pardon, and Blifil to

give it, peace was restored, and everything seemed _in statu quo_.

But though the quarrel was, in all appearance, perfectly reconciled,

the good humour which had been interrupted by it, was by no means

restored. All merriment was now at an end, and the subsequent

discourse consisted only of grave relations of matters of fact, and of

as grave observations upon them; a species of conversation, in which,

though there is much of dignity and instruction, there is but little

entertainment. As we presume therefore to convey only this last to the

reader, we shall pass by whatever was said, till the rest of the

company having by degrees dropped off, left only Square and the

physician together; at which time the conversation was a little

heightened by some comments on what had happened between the two young

gentlemen; both of whom the doctor declared to be no better than

scoundrels; to which appellation the philosopher, very sagaciously

shaking his head, agreed.