The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and his Friend, Mr. Abraham Abrams/Book II, Chapter III

CHAPTER III.

_The opinion of two lawyers concerning the same gentleman, with Mr

Adams's inquiry into the religion of his host._

He had just entered the house, and called for his pint, and seated

himself, when two horsemen came to the door, and, fastening their horses

to the rails, alighted. They said there was a violent shower of rain

coming on, which they intended to weather there, and went into a little

room by themselves, not perceiving Mr Adams.

One of these immediately asked the other, "If he had seen a more comical

adventure a great while?" Upon which the other said, "He doubted

whether, by law, the landlord could justify detaining the horse for his

corn and hay." But the former answered, "Undoubtedly he can; it is an

adjudged case, and I have known it tried."

Adams, who, though he was, as the reader may suspect, a little inclined

to forgetfulness, never wanted more than a hint to remind him,

overhearing their discourse, immediately suggested to himself that this

was his own horse, and that he had forgot to pay for him, which, upon

inquiry, he was certified of by the gentlemen; who added, that the horse

was likely to have more rest than food, unless he was paid for.

The poor parson resolved to return presently to the inn, though he knew

no more than Joseph how to procure his horse his liberty; he was,

however, prevailed on to stay under covert, till the shower, which was

now very violent, was over.

The three travellers then sat down together over a mug of good beer;

when Adams, who had observed a gentleman's house as he passed along the

road, inquired to whom it belonged; one of the horsemen had no sooner

mentioned the owner's name, than the other began to revile him in the

most opprobrious terms. The English language scarce affords a single

reproachful word, which he did not vent on this occasion. He charged him

likewise with many particular facts. He said, "He no more regarded a

field of wheat when he was hunting, than he did the highway; that he had

injured several poor farmers by trampling their corn under his horse's

heels; and if any of them begged him with the utmost submission to

refrain, his horsewhip was always ready to do them justice." He said,

"That he was the greatest tyrant to the neighbours in every other

instance, and would not suffer a farmer to keep a gun, though he might

justify it by law; and in his own family so cruel a master, that he

never kept a servant a twelvemonth. In his capacity as a justice,"

continued he, "he behaves so partially, that he commits or acquits just

as he is in the humour, without any regard to truth or evidence; the

devil may carry any one before him for me; I would rather be tried

before some judges, than be a prosecutor before him: if I had an estate

in the neighbourhood, I would sell it for half the value rather than

live near him."

Adams shook his head, and said, "He was sorry such men were suffered to

proceed with impunity, and that riches could set any man above the law."

The reviler, a little after, retiring into the yard, the gentleman who

had first mentioned his name to Adams began to assure him "that his

companion was a prejudiced person. It is true," says he, "perhaps, that

he may have sometimes pursued his game over a field of corn, but he hath

always made the party ample satisfaction: that so far from tyrannising

over his neighbours, or taking away their guns, he himself knew several

farmers not qualified, who not only kept guns, but killed game with

them; that he was the best of masters to his servants, and several of

them had grown old in his service; that he was the best justice of peace

in the kingdom, and, to his certain knowledge, had decided many

difficult points, which were referred to him, with the greatest equity

and the highest wisdom; and he verily believed, several persons would

give a year's purchase more for an estate near him, than under the wings

of any other great man." He had just finished his encomium when his

companion returned and acquainted him the storm was over. Upon which

they presently mounted their horses and departed.

Adams, who was in the utmost anxiety at those different characters of

the same person, asked his host if he knew the gentleman: for he began

to imagine they had by mistake been speaking of two several gentlemen.

"No, no, master," answered the host (a shrewd, cunning fellow); "I know

the gentleman very well of whom they have been speaking, as I do the

gentlemen who spoke of him. As for riding over other men's corn, to my

knowledge he hath not been on horseback these two years. I never heard

he did any injury of that kind; and as to making reparation, he is not

so free of his money as that comes to neither. Nor did I ever hear of

his taking away any man's gun; nay, I know several who have guns in

their houses; but as for killing game with them, no man is stricter; and

I believe he would ruin any who did. You heard one of the gentlemen say

he was the worst master in the world, and the other that he is the best;

but for my own part, I know all his servants, and never heard from any

of them that he was either one or the other."--"Aye! aye!" says Adams;

"and how doth he behave as a justice, pray?"--"Faith, friend," answered

the host, "I question whether he is in the commission; the only cause I

have heard he hath decided a great while, was one between those very two

persons who just went out of this house; and I am sure he determined

that justly, for I heard the whole matter."--"Which did He decide it in

favour of?" quoth Adams.--"I think I need not answer that question,"

cried the host, "after the different characters you have heard of him.

It is not my business to contradict gentlemen while they are drinking in

my house; but I knew neither of them spoke a syllable of truth."--"God

forbid!" said Adams, "that men should arrive at such a pitch of

wickedness to belye the character of their neighbour from a little

private affection, or, what is infinitely worse, a private spite. I

rather believe we have mistaken them, and they mean two other persons;

for there are many houses on the road."--"Why, prithee, friend," cries

the host, "dost thou pretend never to have told a lye in thy

life?"--"Never a malicious one, I am certain," answered Adams, "nor with

a design to injure the reputation of any man living."--"Pugh! malicious;

no, no," replied the host; "not malicious with a design to hang a man,

or bring him into trouble; but surely, out of love to oneself, one must

speak better of a friend than an enemy."--"Out of love to yourself, you

should confine yourself to truth," says Adams, "for by doing otherwise

you injure the noblest part of yourself, your immortal soul. I can

hardly believe any man such an idiot to risque the loss of that by any

trifling gain, and the greatest gain in this world is but dirt in

comparison of what shall be revealed hereafter." Upon which the host,

taking up the cup, with a smile, drank a health to hereafter; adding,

"He was for something present."--"Why," says Adams very gravely, "do not

you believe another world?" To which the host answered, "Yes; he was no

atheist."--"And you believe you have an immortal soul?" cries Adams. He

answered, "God forbid he should not."--"And heaven and hell?" said the

parson. The host then bid him "not to profane; for those were things not

to be mentioned nor thought of but in church." Adams asked him, "Why he

went to church, if what he learned there had no influence on his conduct

in life?" "I go to church," answered the host, "to say my prayers and

behave godly."--"And dost not thou," cried Adams, "believe what thou

hearest at church?"--"Most part of it, master," returned the host. "And

dost not thou then tremble," cries Adams, "at the thought of eternal

punishment?"--"As for that, master," said he, "I never once thought

about it; but what signifies talking about matters so far off? The mug

is out, shall I draw another?"

Whilst he was going for that purpose, a stage-coach drove up to the

door. The coachman coming into the house was asked by the mistress what

passengers he had in his coach? "A parcel of squinny-gut b--s," says he;

"I have a good mind to overturn them; you won't prevail upon them to

drink anything, I assure you." Adams asked him, "If he had not seen a

young man on horseback on the road" (describing Joseph). "Aye," said

the coachman, "a gentlewoman in my coach that is his acquaintance

redeemed him and his horse; he would have been here before this time,

had not the storm driven him to shelter." "God bless her!" said Adams,

in a rapture; nor could he delay walking out to satisfy himself who this

charitable woman was; but what was his surprize when he saw his old

acquaintance, Madam Slipslop? Hers indeed was not so great, because she

had been informed by Joseph that he was on the road. Very civil were the

salutations on both sides; and Mrs Slipslop rebuked the hostess for

denying the gentleman to be there when she asked for him; but indeed the

poor woman had not erred designedly; for Mrs Slipslop asked for a

clergyman, and she had unhappily mistaken Adams for a person travelling

to a neighbouring fair with the thimble and button, or some other such

operation; for he marched in a swinging great but short white coat with

black buttons, a short wig, and a hat which, so far from having a black

hatband, had nothing black about it.

Joseph was now come up, and Mrs Slipslop would have had him quit his

horse to the parson, and come himself into the coach; but he absolutely

refused, saying, he thanked Heaven he was well enough recovered to be

very able to ride; and added, he hoped he knew his duty better than to

ride in a coach while Mr Adams was on horseback.

Mrs Slipslop would have persisted longer, had not a lady in the coach

put a short end to the dispute, by refusing to suffer a fellow in a

livery to ride in the same coach with herself; so it was at length

agreed that Adams should fill the vacant place in the coach, and Joseph

should proceed on horseback.

They had not proceeded far before Mrs Slipslop, addressing herself to

the parson, spoke thus:--"There hath been a strange alteration in our

family, Mr Adams, since Sir Thomas's death." "A strange alteration

indeed," says Adams, "as I gather from some hints which have dropped

from Joseph."--"Aye," says she, "I could never have believed it; but the

longer one lives in the world, the more one sees. So Joseph hath given

you hints." "But of what nature will always remain a perfect secret with

me," cries the parson: "he forced me to promise before he would

communicate anything. I am indeed concerned to find her ladyship behave

in so unbecoming a manner. I always thought her in the main a good lady,

and should never have suspected her of thoughts so unworthy a Christian,

and with a young lad her own servant." "These things are no secrets to

me, I assure you," cries Slipslop, "and I believe they will be none

anywhere shortly; for ever since the boy's departure, she hath behaved

more like a mad woman than anything else." "Truly, I am heartily

concerned," says Adams, "for she was a good sort of a lady. Indeed, I

have often wished she had attended a little more constantly at the

service, but she hath done a great deal of good in the parish." "O Mr

Adams," says Slipslop, "people that don't see all, often know nothing.

Many things have been given away in our family, I do assure you, without

her knowledge. I have heard you say in the pulpit we ought not to brag;

but indeed I can't avoid saying, if she had kept the keys herself, the

poor would have wanted many a cordial which I have let them have. As for

my late master, he was as worthy a man as ever lived, and would have

done infinite good if he had not been controlled; but he loved a quiet

life, Heaven rest his soul! I am confident he is there, and enjoys a

quiet life, which some folks would not allow him here."--Adams answered,

"He had never heard this before, and was mistaken if she herself (for he

remembered she used to commend her mistress and blame her master) had

not formerly been of another opinion." "I don't know," replied she,

"what I might once think; but now I am confidous matters are as I tell

you; the world will shortly see who hath been deceived; for my part, I

say nothing, but that it is wondersome how some people can carry all

things with a grave face."

Thus Mr Adams and she discoursed, till they came opposite to a great

house which stood at some distance from the road: a lady in the coach,

spying it, cried, "Yonder lives the unfortunate Leonora, if one can

justly call a woman unfortunate whom we must own at the same time guilty

and the author of her own calamity." This was abundantly sufficient to

awaken the curiosity of Mr Adams, as indeed it did that of the whole

company, who jointly solicited the lady to acquaint them with Leonora's

history, since it seemed, by what she had said, to contain something

remarkable.

The lady, who was perfectly well-bred, did not require many entreaties,

and having only wished their entertainment might make amends for the

company's attention, she began in the following manner.