CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XV.
Showing how Mrs Tow-wouse was a little mollified; and how
officious Mr Barnabas and the surgeon were to prosecute the thief: with a
dissertation accounting for their zeal, and that of many other persons not
mentioned in this history.
Betty told her mistress she believed the man in bed was a
greater man than they took him for; for, besides the extreme whiteness of his
skin, and the softness of his hands, she observed a very great familiarity
between the gentleman and him; and added, she was certain they were intimate
acquaintance, if not relations.
This somewhat abated the severity of Mrs Tow-wouse's
countenance. She said, "God forbid she should not discharge the duty of a
Christian, since the poor gentleman was brought to her house. She had a natural
antipathy to vagabonds; but could pity the misfortunes of a Christian as soon
as another." Tow-wouse said, "If the traveller be a gentleman, though
he hath no money about him now, we shall most likely be paid hereafter; so you may
begin to score whenever you will." Mrs Tow-wouse answered, "Hold your
simple tongue, and don't instruct me in my business. I am sure I am sorry for
the gentleman's misfortune with all my heart; and I hope the villain who hath
used him so barbarously will be hanged. Betty, go see what he wants. God forbid
he should want anything in my house."
Barnabas and the surgeon went up to Joseph to satisfy
themselves concerning the piece of gold; Joseph was with difficulty prevailed
upon to show it them, but would by no entreaties be brought to deliver it out
of his own possession. He however attested this to be the same which had been
taken from him, and Betty was ready to swear to the finding it on the thief.
The only difficulty that remained was, how to produce this
gold before the justice; for as to carrying Joseph himself, it seemed
impossible; nor was there any great likelihood of obtaining it from him, for he
had fastened it with a ribband to his arm, and solemnly vowed that nothing but
irresistible force should ever separate them; in which resolution, Mr Adams,
clenching a fist rather less than the knuckle of an ox, declared he would
support him.
A dispute arose on this occasion concerning evidence not
very necessary to be related here; after which the surgeon dressed Mr Joseph's
head, still persisting in the imminent danger in which his patient lay, but
concluding, with a very important look, "That he began to have some hopes;
that he should send him a sanative soporiferous draught, and would see him in
the morning." After which Barnabas and he departed, and left Mr Joseph and
Mr Adams together.
Adams informed Joseph of the occasion of this journey which
he was making to London, namely, to publish three volumes of sermons; being
encouraged, as he said, by an advertisement lately set forth by the society of
booksellers, who proposed to purchase any copies offered to them, at a price to
be settled by two persons; but though he imagined he should get a considerable
sum of money on this occasion, which his family were in urgent need of, he
protested he would not leave Joseph in his present condition: finally, he told
him, "He had nine shillings and threepence halfpenny in his pocket, which
he was welcome to use as he pleased."
This goodness of parson Adams brought tears into Joseph's
eyes; he declared, "He had now a second reason to desire life, that he
might show his gratitude to such a friend." Adams bade him "be
cheerful; for that he plainly saw the surgeon, besides his ignorance, desired
to make a merit of curing him, though the wounds in his head, he perceived,
were by no means dangerous; that he was convinced he had no fever, and doubted
not but he would be able to travel in a day or two."
These words infused a spirit into Joseph; he said, "He
found himself very sore from the bruises, but had no reason to think any of his
bones injured, or that he had received any harm in his inside, unless that he
felt something very odd in his stomach; but he knew not whether that might not
arise from not having eaten one morsel for above twenty-four hours." Being
then asked if he had any inclination to eat, he answered in the affirmative.
Then parson Adams desired him to "name what he had the greatest fancy for;
whether a poached egg, or chicken-broth." He answered, "He could eat
both very well; but that he seemed to have the greatest appetite for a piece of
boiled beef and cabbage."
Adams was pleased with so perfect a confirmation that he had
not the least fever, but advised him to a lighter diet for that evening. He
accordingly ate either a rabbit or a fowl, I never could with any tolerable
certainty discover which; after this he was, by Mrs Tow-wouse's order, conveyed
into a better bed and equipped with one of her husband's shirts.
In the morning early, Barnabas and the surgeon came to the
inn, in order to see the thief conveyed before the justice. They had consumed
the whole night in debating what measures they should take to produce the piece
of gold in evidence against him; for they were both extremely zealous in the business,
though neither of them were in the least interested in the prosecution; neither
of them had ever received any private injury from the fellow, nor had either of
them ever been suspected of loving the publick well enough to give them a
sermon or a dose of physic for nothing.
To help our reader, therefore, as much as possible to
account for this zeal, we must inform him that, as this parish was so
unfortunate as to have no lawyer in it, there had been a constant contention
between the two doctors, spiritual and physical, concerning their abilities in
a science, in which, as neither of them professed it, they had equal
pretensions to dispute each other's opinions. These disputes were carried on
with great contempt on both sides, and had almost divided the parish; Mr
Tow-wouse and one half of the neighbours inclining to the surgeon, and Mrs
Tow-wouse with the other half to the parson. The surgeon drew his knowledge
from those inestimable fountains, called The Attorney's Pocket Companion, and
Mr Jacob's Law-Tables; Barnabas trusted entirely to Wood's Institutes. It
happened on this occasion, as was pretty frequently the case, that these two
learned men differed about the sufficiency of evidence; the doctor being of
opinion that the maid's oath would convict the prisoner without producing the
gold; the parson, é contra, totis viribus. To display their parts, therefore,
before the justice and the parish, was the sole motive which we can discover to
this zeal which both of them pretended to have for public justice.
O Vanity! how little is thy force acknowledged, or thy
operations discerned! How wantonly dost thou deceive mankind under different
disguises! Sometimes thou dost wear the face of pity, sometimes of generosity:
nay, thou hast the assurance even to put on those glorious ornaments which
belong only to heroic virtue. Thou odious, deformed monster! whom priests have
railed at, philosophers despised, and poets ridiculed; is there a wretch so
abandoned as to own thee for an acquaintance in public?—yet, how few will
refuse to enjoy thee in private? nay, thou art the pursuit of most men through
their lives. The greatest villainies are daily practised to please thee; nor is
the meanest thief below, or the greatest hero above, thy notice. Thy embraces
are often the sole aim and sole reward of the private robbery and the plundered
province. It is to pamper up thee, thou harlot, that we attempt to withdraw
from others what we do not want, or to withhold from them what they do. All our
passions are thy slaves. Avarice itself is often no more than thy handmaid, and
even Lust thy pimp. The bully Fear, like a coward, flies before thee, and Joy
and Grief hide their heads in thy presence.
I know thou wilt think that whilst I abuse thee I court
thee, and that thy love hath inspired me to write this sarcastical panegyric on
thee; but thou art deceived: I value thee not of a farthing; nor will it give
me any pain if thou shouldst prevail on the reader to censure this digression
as arrant nonsense; for know, to thy confusion, that I have introduced thee for
no other purpose than to lengthen out a short chapter, and so I return to my
history.