her beauty; which the reader will pardon my not relating, as they had not any thing new or uncommon in them: so must he likewise my not setting down the many curious jests which were made on Adams; some of them declaring that parson-hunting was the best sport in the world; others commending his standing at bay, which they said he had done as well as any bad ger; with such like merriment, which, though it would ill become the dignity of this history, afforded much laughter and diversion to the squire and his facetious companions. CHAP. VII. A scene of roasting, very nicely adapted to the present taste and times. THEY arrived at the squire's house just as his dinner was ready. A little dispute arose on the account of Fanny, whom the squire, who was a bachelor, was desirous to place at his own table; but she would not consent, nor would Mr Adams permit her to be parted from Joseph; so that she was at length with him consigned over to the kitchen, where the servants were ordered to make him drunk; a favour which was likewise intended for Adams; which design being executed, the squire thought he should easily accomplish what he had, when he first saw her, intended to perpetrate with Fanny. It may not be improper before we proceed farther, to open a little the character of this gentleman, and that of his friends. The master of this house, then, was a man of a very considerable fortune, a bachelor, as we have said, and about forty years of age: he had been educated (if we may use the expression) in the country, and at his own home, under the care of his mother and a tutor, who had orders never to correct him, nor to compel him to learn more than he liked, which it seems was very little, and that only in his childhood; for from the age of fifteen he addicted himself entirely to hunting, and other rural amusements, for which his mother took care to equip him with horses, hounds, and all other necessaries; and his tutor, endeavouring to ingratiate himself with his young pupil, who would, he knew, be able handsomely to provide for him, became his companion, not only at these exercises, but likewise over a bottle, which the young squire had a very early relish for. At the age of twenty his mother began to think she had not fulfilled the duty of a parent; she therefore resolved to persuade her son, if possible, to that which she imagined would well supply all that he might have learned at a public school or university: this is what they commonly call travelling; which, with the help of the tutor who was fixed on to attend him, she easily succeeded in. He made in three years the tour of Europe, as they term it, and returned home well furnished with French clothes, phrases, and servants, with a hearty contempt for his own country; especially what had any savour of the plain spirit and honesty of our ancestors. His mother greatly applauded herself at his return; and now being master of his own fortune, he soon procured himself a seat in parliament, and was in the common opinion one of the finest gentlemen of his age: but what distinguished him chiefly, was a strange delight which he took in every thing which is ridiculous, odious, and absurd in his own species, so that he never chose a companion without one or more of these ingredients, and those who were marked by Nature in the most eminent degree with them, were most his favourites: if he ever found a man who either had not, or endeavoured to conceal these imperfections, he took great pleasure in inventing methods of forcing him into absurdities which were not natural to him, or in drawing forth and exposing those that were; for which purpose he was always provided with a set of fellows whom we have before called curs, and who did indeed no great honour to the canine kind: their business was to hunt out and display every thing that had any savour of the above-mentioned qualities, and especially in the gravest and best characters: but if they failed in their search, they were to turn even virtue and wisdom themselves into ridicule, for the diversion of their master and feeder. The gentlemen of curlike disposition, who were now at his house, and whom he had brought with him from London, were an old half-pay officer, a player, a dull poet, a quack-doctor, a scraping fiddler, and a lame German dancing-master. As soon as dinner was served, while Mr Adams was saying grace, the captain conveyed his chair from behind him; so that when he endeavoured to seat himself, he fell down on the ground, and thus completed joke the first, to the great entertainment of the whole company. The second joke was performed by the poet, who sat next him on the other side, and took an opportunity, while poor Adams was respectfully drinking to the master of the house, to overturn a plate of soup into his breeches; which, with the many apologies he made, and the parson's gentle answers, caused much mirth in the company. Joke the third was served up by one of the waiting-men, who had been ordered to convey a quantity of gin into Mr Adams's ale, which he declaring to be the best liquor he ever drank, but rather too rich of the malt, contributed again to their laughter. Mr Adams, from whom we had most of this relation, could not recollect all the jests of this kind practised on him, which the inoffensive disposition of his own heart made him slow in discovering; and indeed, had it not been for the information which we received from a servant of the family, this part of our history, which we take to be. none of the least curious, must have been deplorably imperfect; though we must own it probable, that some more jokes were (as they call it) cracked during their dinner; but we have by no means been able to come at the knowledge of them. When dinner was removed, the poet began to repeat some verses, which he said were made extempore. The following is a copy of them, procured with the greatest difficulty. AN EXTEMPORE POEM ON PARSON ADAMS. Did ever mortal such a parson view, At which words the bard whip'd off the play. er's wig, and received the approbation of the company, rather perhaps for the dexterity of his hand than his head. The player, instead of retorting the jest on the poet, began to display his talents on the same subject. He repeated many scraps of wit out of plays, reflecting on the whole body of the clergy, which were received with great acclamations by all present. It was now the dancing-master's turn to exhibit his talents: he therefore, addressing himself to Adams in broken English, told him, He was a man very well made for de dance, and he suppose, by his walk, dat he had learn of some great master. He said, it was ver pretty quality in clergyman to dance; and concluded with desiring him to dance a minuet; telling him, his cassock would serve for petticoats; and that he would himself be his partner. At which words, without waiting for an answer, he pull ed out his gloves, and the fiddler was preparing his fiddle. The company all offered the dancing-master wagers that the parson outdanced him, which he refused, saying, he believed so too; for he had never seen any man in his life who looked de dance so well as de gentleman: He then stepped forwards to take Adams by the hand, which the latter hastily withdrew, and at the same time clenching his fist, advised him not to carry the jest too far, for he would not endure being put upon. The dancing-master no sooner saw the fist than he prudently retired out of its reach, and stood aloof, mimicking Adams, whose eyes were fixed on him, not guessing what he was at, but to avoid his laying hold on him, which he had once attempted. In the meanwhile, the captain perceiving an opportunity, pinned a cracker or devil to the cassock, and then lighted it with their little smokingcandle. Adams being a stranger to this sport, and believing he had been blown up in reality, started from his chair, and jumped about the room, to the infinite joy of the beholders, who declared he was the best dancer in the universe. As soon as the devil had done tormenting him, and he had a little recovered his confusion, he returned to the table, standing up in the pos→ ture of one who intended to make a speech. They all cried out, "Hear him, hear him;" and he then spoke in the following manner: "Sir, I am sorry to see one to whom Providence hath been so bountiful in bestowing his favours, make so ill and ungrateful a return for them: for though you have not insulted me yourself, it is visible you have delighted in those that do it, nor have once, discouraged the many rudenesses which have been shown towards me; indeed towards yourself, if you rightly understood them: for I am your guest, and by the laws of hospitality entitled to your protection. One gentleman hath thought proper to produce some poetry upon me, of which I shall only say, that I had rather be the subject than the composer. He hath been pleased to treat me with disrespect as a parson. I apprehend my order is not the object of scorn, nor that I can become so, unless by being a disgrace to it, which I hope poverty will never be called. Another gentleman, indeed, hath repeated some sentences, where the order itself is mentioned with contempt. He says they are taken from plays; I am sure such plays are a scandal to the government which permits them, and cursed will be the nation where they are represented. How others have treated me, I need not ob→ serve; they themselves, when they reflect, must allow the behaviour to be as improper to my years as to my cloth. You found me, sir, travelling with two of my parishioners, (I omit your hounds falling on me; for I have quite forgiven it, whether it proceeded from the wantonness or negligence of the huntsman ;) my appearance might very well persuade you that your invitation was an act of charity, though in reality we were well provided: yes, sir, if we had had an hundred miles to travel, we had sufficient to bear our expences in a noble manner." (At which words he produced the half-guinea which was found in the basket.) "I do not shew you this out of ostentation of riches, but to convince you I speak_truth. Your seating meat your table was an honour which I did not ambitiously affect. When I was here, I endeavoured to behave towards you with the utmost respect; if I have failed, it was not with design; nor could I, certainly, so far be guilty as to deserve the insults I have suf fered. If they were meant, therefore, either ✦ All hounds that will huut fox or other vermin, will hunt a piece of rusty bacon trailed on the ground. to my order or my poverty, (and you see I am The doctor now began a second formal speech, in which he declaimed against all levity of conversation, and what is usually called mirth. He said, "there were amusements fitted for persons of all ages and degrees, from the rattle to the discussing a point of philosophy, and that men discovered themselves in nothing more than in the choice of their amusements: for," says he, as it must greatly raise our expectation of the future conduct in life of boys, whom in their tender years we perceive instead of taw or balls, or other childish play-things, to chuse, at their leisure-hours, to exercise their genius in contentions of wit, learning, and such like; so must it inspire one with equal contempt of a man, if we should discover him playing at taw or other childish play." Adams highly commended the doctor's opinion, and said, he had often wondered at some passages in ancient authors, where Scipio, Lælius, and other great men, were represented to have passed many hours in amusements of the most trifling kind. The doctor replied, he had by him an old Greek manuscript, where a favourite diversion of Socrates was recorded. "Ay," said the parson eagerly, "I should be most infinitely obliged to you for the favour of perusing it." The doctor promised to send it him; and farther said, that he believed he could describe it. "I think," says he, " as near as I can remember, it was this. There was a throne erected, on one side of which sat a king, and on the other a queen, with their guards and attendants ranged on both sides; to them was introduced an ambassador, which part Socrates always used to perform himself; and when he was led up to the footsteps of the throne, he addressed himself to the monarchs in some grave speech, full of virtue, and goodness, and morality, and such like. After which he was seated between the king and queen, and royally entertained. This I think was the chief part.-Perhaps I may have forgot some particulars; for it is long since I read it." Adams said, it was indeed a diversion worthy the relaxation of so great a man; and thought something resembling it should be Then the doctor, who had hitherto been silent, instituted among our great men, instead of cards and who was the gravest, but most mischievous and other idle pastime, in which he was informdog of all, in a very pompous speech highly ap-ed they trifled away too much of their lives. plauded what Adams had said, and as much discommended the behaviour to him. He proceeded to encomiums on the church and poverty; and lastly recommended forgiveness of what had passed to Adams, who immediately answered, that every thing was forgiven; and in the warmth of his goodness he filled a bumper of strong beer, (a liquor he preferred to wine) and drank a health to the whole company, shaking the captain and the poet heartily by the hand, and addressing himself with great respect to the doctor; who indeed had not laughed outwardly at any thing that passed, as he had a perfect command of his muscles, and could laugh inwardly without betraying the least symptoms in his countenance. He added, the Christian religion was a nobler subject for these speeches than any Socrates could have invented. The gentleman of the house approved what Mr Adams said, and declared, he was resolved to perform the ceremony this very evening. To which the doctor objected, as no one was prepared with a speech: "unless," said he, (turning to Adams with a gravity of countenance which would have deceived a more knowing man,) "you have a sermon about you, doctor.' "Sir," says Adams, "I never travel without one, for fear of what may happen." He was easily prevailed on by his worthy friend, as he now called the doctor, to undertake the part of the ambassador; so that the gentleman sent immediate orders to have the throne erected; which was performed before they had drank two bottles: and perhaps the reader will hereafter have no great reason to admire the nimble ness of the servants. Indeed, to confess the truth, the throne was no more than this; there was a great tub of water provided, on each side of which were placed two stools raised higher than the surface of the tub, and over the whole was laid a blanket; on these stools were placed the king and queen, namely, the master of the house and the captain. And now the ambassa dor was introduced, between the poet and the doctor, who, having read his sermon, to the great entertainment of all present, was led up to his place, and seated between their majesties. They immediately rose up, when the blanket, wanting its supports at either end, gave way, and soused Adams over head and ears in the water: the captain made his escape, but unluckily the gentleman himself not being as nimble as he ought, Adams caught hold of him before he descended from his throne, and pulled him in with him, to the entire secret satisfaction of all the company. Adams, after ducking the squire twice or thrice, leapt out of the tub, and looked sharp for the doctor, whom he would certainly have conveyed to the same place of honour, but he had wisely withdrawn: he then searched for his crab-stick, and having found that, as well as his fellow travellers, he declared he would not stay a moment longer in such a house. He then departed, without taking leave of his host, whom he had exacted a more severe revenge on than he intended: for as he did not use sufficient care to dry himself in time, he caught a cold by the accident, which threw him into a fever that had like to have cost him his life. CHAP. VIII. The night was very dark, in which our friends began their journey; however, they made such expedition that they soon arrived at an inn, which was at seven miles distance. Here they unanimously consented to pass the evening, Mr Adams being now as dry as he was before he had set out on his embassy. This inn, which indeed we might call an alehouse, had not the words, the New Inn, been writ on the sign, afforded them no better provision than bread and cheese, and ale; on which, however, they made a very comfortable meal; for hunger is better than a French cook. They had no sooner supped, than Adams, returning thanks to the Almighty for his food, declared he had eat his homely commons with much greater satisfaction than his splendid dinner, and expressed great contempt for the folly of mankind, who sacrificed their hopes of heaven to the acquisition of vast wealth; since so much comfort was to be found in the humblest state and the lowest provision. "Very true, sir," says a grave man, who sat smoking his pipe by the fire, and who was a traveller as well as himself; "I have often been as much surprised as you are, when I consider the value which mankind in general set on riches; since every day's experience shews us how little is in their power; for what indeed truly desirable can they bestow on us? Can they give beauty to the deformed, strength to the weak, or health to the infirm ? Surely if they could, we should not see so many ill-favoured faces haunting the assemblies of the great, nor would such numbers of feeble wretches languish in their coaches and palaces. No, not the wealth of a kingdom can purchase any paint to dress pale ugliness in the bloom of that young maiden, nor any drugs to equip disease with the vigour of that young man. Do not riches bring us solicitude instead of rest, envy instead of affection, and danger instead of safety? Can they prolong their own possession, or lengthen his Which some readers will think too short, and days who enjoys them? So far otherwise, that others too long. ADAMS, and Joseph, (who was no less enraged than his friend at the treatment he met with,) went out with their sticks in their hand, and carried off Fanny, notwithstanding the opposi tion of the servants, who did all, without proceeding to violence, in their power to detain them. They walked as fast as they could, not so much from any apprehension of being pursued, as that Mr Adams might, by exercise, prevent any harm from the water. The gentleman, who had given such orders to his servants con cerning Fanny, that he did not in the least fear her getting away, no sooner heard that she was gone, than he began to rave, and immediately dispatched several with orders, either to bring her back, or never return. The poet, the player, and all but the dancing-master and doctor, went on this errand. the sloth, the luxury, the care which attend them, shorten the lives of millions, and bring them with pain and misery to an untimely grave. Where then is their value, if they can neither embellish or strengthen our forms, sweeten or prolong our lives? Again-Can they adorn the mind more than the body? Do they not rather swell the heart with vanity, puff up the cheeks with pride, shut our ears to every call of virtue, and our bowels to every motive of compassion?" "Give me your hand, brother," said Adams in a rapture; " for I suppose you are a clergyman." "No, truly," answered the other, (indeed he was a priest of the church of Rome: but those who understand our laws, will not wonder he was not over-ready to own it.) "Whatever you are," cries Adams, "you have spoken my sentiments: I believe I have preached every syllable of your speech twenty times over: for it hath always appeared to me easier for a cable rope (which, by the way, is the true rendering of that word we have translated camel) to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to get into the kingdom of heaven."-"That, sir," said the other," will be easily granted you by divines, and is deplorably true: but as the prospect of our good at a distance doth not so forcibly affect us, it might be of some service to mankind to be made thoroughly sensible, which I think they might be with very little serious attention, that even the blessings of this world are not to be purchased with riches. A doctrine, in my opinion, not only metaphysically, but, if I may so say, mathematically demonstrable; and which I have been always so perfectly convinced of, that I have a contempt for nothing so much as for gold." Adams now began a long discourse; but as most which he said occurs among many authors who have treated this subject, I shall omit inserting it. During its continuance Joseph and Fanny retired to rest, and the host likewise left the room. When the English parson had concluded, the Romish resumed the discourse, which he continued with great bitterness and invective; and at last ended, by desiring Adams to lend him eighteen-pence to pay his reckoning, promising, if he never paid him, he might be assured of his prayers. The good man answered, that eighteen-pence would be too little to carry him any very long journey; that he had half a guinea in his pocket, which he would divide with him. He then fell to searching his pockets, but could find no money: for indeed the company with whom he dined, had past one jest upon him which we did not then enumerate, and had picked his pocket of all that treasure which he had so ostentatiously produced. "Bless me," cried Adams, "I have certainly lost it; I can never have spent it. Sir, as I am a Christian, I had a whole half guinea in my pocket this morning, and have not now a single halfpenny of it left. Sure the devil must have taken it from me."-" Sir," answered the priest smiling, "you need make no excuses; if you are not willing to lend me the money, I am contented."— Sir,” cries Adams, “if I had the greatest sum in the world; ay, if I had ten pounds about me, I would bestow it all to rescue any Christian from distress. I am more vexed at my loss on your account than my own. Was ever any thing so unlucky? because I have no money in my pocket, I shall be suspected to be no Christian.""I am more unlucky," quoth the other, "if you are as generous as you say: for really a crown would have made me happy, and conveyed me in plenty to the place I am going, which is not above twenty miles off, and where I can arrive by to-morrow night. I assure you I am not accustomed to travel pennyless. I am but just arrived in England; and we were forced by a storm in our passage to throw all we had overboard. I don't suspect but this fellow will take my word for the trifle I owe him; but I hate to appear so mean as to confess myself without a shilling to such people: for these, and indeed too many others, know little difference in their estimation between a beggar and a thief." However, he thought he should deal better with the host that evening than the next morning; he therefore resolved to set out immediately, notwithstanding the darkness; and, accordingly, as soon as the host returned, he communicated to him the situation of his affairs; upon which the host scratching his head, answered, "Why, I do not know, master, if it be so, and you have no money, I must trust, I think, though I had rather always have ready money if I could; but, marry, you look like so honest a gentleman, that I don't fear your paying me, if it was twenty times as much.' The priest made no reply, but taking leave of him and Adams as fast as he could, not without confusion, and perhaps with some distrust of Adams's sincerity, departed. He was no sooner gone than the host fell ashaking his head, and declared, if he had suspected the fellow had no money, he would not have drawn him a single drop of drink; saying, he despaired of ever seeing his face again; for that he looked like a confounded rogue. "Rabbit the fellow," cries he, "I thought by his talking so much about riches, that he had a hundred pounds at least in his pocket." Adams chid him for his suspicions, which he said were not becoming a Christian; and then, without reflecting on his loss, or considering how he himself should depart in the morning, he retired to a very homely bed, as his companions had before; however, health and fatigue gave them a sweeter repose than is often in the power of velvet and down to bestow. CHAPTER IX. Containing as surprising and bloody adventures as can be found in this, or perhaps any other authentic history. It was almost morning, when Joseph Andrews, whose eyes the thoughts of his dear Fanny had opened, as he lay fondly meditating on that lovely creature, heard a violent knocking at the door over which he lay. He presently jumped out of bed, and opening the window, was asked if there were no travellers in the house; and presently, by another voice, if two men and a young woman had not taken up their lodging there that night. Though he knew not the voices, he began to entertain a suspicion of the truth; for indeed he had received some information from one of the servants of the squire's house, of his design; and answered in the negative. One of the servants who knew the host well, called out to him by his name, just as he had opened another window, and asked him the same question; to which |