|
Tom Jones is born out of wedlock, and it
behoves the kind Mr Allworthy – before he adopts the little bastard – to warn
the infant’s mother, Jenny Jones, about the evils of unsanctified sex. The matter is so serious, and touches on
matters so evil in the sight of an English parish in the mid-1700s, that
Fielding, tongue in cheek, heads the chapter on the subject thus:
CHAPTER 7: Containing such grave Matter, that the Reader
cannot laugh once through the
whole Chapter, unless
peradventure he should laugh at
the Author.
The
benevolent squire takes Jenny into his office and tells her:
“You know,
child, it is in my power, as a magistrate, to punish you very rigorously for
what you have done; and (you have reason to fear it) because you have, in a
manner, laid your sins at my door.”
However, as she demonstrates such ‘natural affection’
for her baby that he decides to admonish her for “the violation of
your chastity. A crime, however lightly it may be treated by debauched persons,
very heinous in itself and very dreadful in its consequences. . . what can be more so, than to incur the divine
displeasure, by the breach of the divine commands; and that in an instance,
against which the highest vengeance is specifically denounced. . .
"There
are other consequences, not indeed so dreadful, or replete with horror, as
this; and yet such, as if attentively considered, must, one would think, deter
all, of your sex at least, from the commission of this crime.
"For
by it you are rendered infamous, and driven, like lepers of old, out of
society; at least from the society of all but wicked and reprobate persons; for
no others will associate with you. . .
This goes on to make a marvelous sermon – strong enough to
use in the war on HIV\AIDS today. And
it would require the same sympathy shown to poor Jenny Jones by Mr Allworthy and his sister Mrs Bridget,
who states:
“if the girl had been one of those vain
trollops, of which we have too many in the parish, I should have condemned my
brother for his lenity towards her. I saw two farmers daughters at church, the
other day, with bare necks. I protest they shock'd me. If wenches will hang out
lures for fellows, it is no matter what they suffer. I detest such creatures;
and it would be much better for them, that their faces had been seamed with the
small-pox; but I must confess, I never saw any of this wanton behaviour in poor
Jenny; some artful villain, I am convinced, hath betrayed, nay perhaps forc'd
her; and I pity the poor wretch with all my heart."
Mrs.
Deborah approved all these sentiments, and the dialogue concluded with a
general and bitter invective against beauty, and with many compassionate
considerations for all honest, plain girls, who are deluded by the wicked arts
of deceitful men.
Book V Chapter 10
Shewing the
Truth of many Observations of Ovid, and of other more grave Writers, who
have proved, beyond Contradiction, that Wine is often the Fore-runner of
Incontinency.
. . .It was now a pleasant evening in the
latter end of June, when our heroe [Tom Jones, son of Jenny] was walking in a
most delicious grove, where the gentle breezes fanning the leaves, together
with the sweet trilling of a murmuring stream, and the melodious notes of
nightingales, formed all together the most enchanting harmony., In this scene,
so sweetly accommodated to love, he meditated on his dear Sophia. While his
wanton fancy roved unbounded over all her beauties, and his lively imagination
painted the charming maid in various ravishing forms, his warm heart melted
with tenderness, and at length throwing himself on the ground, by the side of a
gently murmuring brook, he broke forth into the following ejaculation.
"0
Sophia, would heaven give thee to my arms, how blest would be my condition!
Curst be that fortune which sets a distance between us. Was I but possessed of
thee, one only suit of rags thy whole estate, is there a man on earth whom I
would envy! How contemptible would the brightest Circassian beauty, drest in
all the jewels of the Indies, appear to my eyes!
“But why do
I mention another woman? Could I think my eyes capable of looking at any other
with tenderness, these hands should tear them from my head. No, my Sophia, if
cruel fortune separates us for ever, my soul shall doat on thee alone. The chastest
constancy will I ever preserve to thy image. Though I should never have
possession of thy charming person, still shalt thou alone have possession of my
thoughts, my love, my soul. Oh! my fond heart is so wrapt in that tender bosom,
that the brightest beauties would for me have no charms, nor would a hermit be
colder in their embraces. Sophia, Sophia alone shall be mine. What raptures are
in that name! I will engrave it on every tree."
At these
words he started up, and beheld - not his Sophiano, nor a Circassian maid
richly and elegantly attired for the grand signior's seraglio. No; without a
gown, in a shift that was somewhat of the coarsest, and none of the cleanest,
bedewed likewise with some odoriferous effluvia, the produce of the day's
labour, with a pitchfork in her hand, Molly Seagrim approached. Our heroe
had his penknife in his hand, which he had drawn for the before-mentioned
purpose, of carving on the bark; when the girl coming near him, cry'd out with
a smile, "You don't intend to kill me, squire, I hope! " "Why
should you think I would kill you?" answered Jones. "Nay,"
replied she, "after your cruel usage of me when I saw you last, killing me
would, perhaps, be too great kindness for me to expect."Here ensued
a parley; which, as I do not think myself obliged to relate, I shall omit. It
is sufficient that it lasted a full quarter of an hour, at the conclusion of
which they retired into the thickest part of the grove.
Some of my
readers may be inclined to think this event unnatural. However, the fact is
true; and, perhaps, may be sufficiently accounted for, by suggesting, that
Jones probably thought one woman better than none, and Molly as probably
imagined two men to be better than one.
(The
author makes excuses for ‘our heroe’ on the grounds of his impetuous youth, and
the fact that he
happened to have partaken of a little wine. . . it is the wine which is heavily
criticised.. . and then enters another villain - the Rev Thwackum)
No sooner had our heroe retired
with his Dido, but the parson and the young squire, who were taking a serious
walk, arrived at the stile which leads into the grove, and the latter caught a
view of the lovers, just as they were sinking out of sight.
Blifil knew Jones very well,
though he was at above a hundred yards distance, and he was as positive to the
sex of his companion, though not to the individual person. He started; blessed
himself, and uttered a very solemn ejaculation.
Thwackum expressed some surprize at these sudden emotions,
and asked the reason of them. To which Blifil answered, "He was certain he
had seen a fellow and wench retire together among the bushes, which he doubted
not was with some wicked purpose”.
The parson, who was not only strictly chaste in his
own person, but a great enemy to the opposite vice in all others, fired at this
information. He desired Mr. Blifil to conduct him immediately to the place,
which as he approached, he breathed forth vengeance mixed with lamentations;
nor did he refrain from (condemning those who ) mitigated that just and
wholsome rigour of the law which allows a very severe punishment to loose
wenches.
The way,
through which our hunters were to pass in pursuit of their game, was so
beset with briars, that it greatly obstructed their walk, and caused, besides,
such a rustling that Jones had sufficient warning of their arrival, before they
could surprize him; nay, indeed, so incapable was Thwackum of concealing
his indignation, and such vengeance did he mutter forth every step he took,
that this alone must have abundantly satisfied Jones, that he was (to use the
language of sportsmen) found sitting.
|
