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for, notwithstanding Mr Barnabas's opinion, he had not been once out of his senses since his arrival at the inn.

Mr Barnabas was again sent for, and with much difficulty prevailed upon to make another visit. As soon as he entered the room, he told Joseph," He was come to pray by him, and to prepare him for another world: in the first place, therefore, he hoped he had repented of all his sins." Joseph answered, "He hoped he had; but there was one thing which he knew not whether he should call a sin; if it was, he feared he should die in the commission of it; and that was the regret of parting with a young woman, whom he loved as tenderly as he did his heart strings." Barnabas bade him be assured," that any repining at the divine will was one of the greatest sins he could commit; that he ought to forget all carnal affections, and think of better

Joseph complained he was dry, and desired a little tea; which Barnabas reported to Mrs Towwouse, who answered, "She had just done drinking it, and could not be slopping all day ;' but ordered Betty to carry him up some small beer.

Betty obeyed her mistress's commands; but Joseph, as soon as he had tasted it, said, he feared it would increase his fever, and that he longed very much for tea; to which the good-natured Betty answered, he should have tea, if there was any in the land. She accordingly went and bought him some herself, and attended him with it; where we will leave her and Joseph together for some time, to entertain the reader with other matters.

CHAP. XIV.

each other at the inn.

Ir was now the dusk of the evening, when a grave person rode into the inn, and committing his horse to the hostler, went directly into the kitchen, and having called for a pipe of tobacco, took his place by the fireside, where several persons were likewise assembled.

The discourse ran altogether on the robbery which was committed the night before, and on the poor wretch who lay above in the dreadful condition in which we have already seen him. Mrs Tow-wouse said, "she wondered what the devil Tom Whipwell meant by bringing such guests to her house, when there were so many ale-houses on the road proper for their reception. But she assured him if he died, the parish should be at the expence of the funeral." She added, "nothing would serve the fellow's turn but tea, she would assure him." Betty, who was just returned from her charitable office, answered, she believed he was a gentleman, for she never saw a finer skin in her life. "Pox on his skin!" replied Mrs Tow-wouse, "I suppose that is all we are like to have for the reckoning. I desire no such gentlemen should ever call at the Dragon:" (which, it seems, was the sign of the inn.)

things." Joseph said, "that neither in this world Being very full of adventures, which succeeded nor the next he could forget his Fanny; and that the thought, however grievous, of parting from her for ever, was not half so tormenting as the fear of what she would suffer when she knew his misfortune." Barnabas said, "that such fears argued a diffidence and despondence very criminal; that he must divest himself of all human passions, and fix his heart above." Joseph answered, "that was what he desired to do, and should be obliged to him, if he would enable him to accomplish it." Barnabas replied, " that must be done by grace." Joseph besought him to discover how he might attain it. Barnabas answered, " by prayer and faith." He then questioned him concerning his forgiveness of the thieves. Joseph answered, "he feared that was more than he could do, for nothing would give him more pleasure than to hear they were taken." "That," cries Barnabas, "is for the sake of justice." "Yes," says Joseph, "but if I was to meet them again, I am afraid I should attack them, and kill them too if I could." "Doubtless," answered Barnabas, "it is lawful to kill a thief: but can you say you forgive them as a Christian ought?" Joseph desired to know what that forgiveness was. "That is," answered Barnabas, "to forgive them as-as-it is to forgive them as-in short it is to forgive them as a Christian." Joseph replied, "he forgave them as much as he could." "Well, well," said Barnabas," that will do." He then demanded of him, "if he remembered any more sins unrepented of; and if he did, he desired him to make haste and repent of them as fast as he could; that they might repeat over a few prayers together." Joseph answered, "he could not recollect any great crimes he had been guilty of, and that those he had committed he was sincerely sorry for." Barnabas said, that was enough; and then proceeded to prayer with all the expedition he was master of, some company then waiting for him below in the parlour, where the ingredients for punch were all in readiness, but no one would squeeze the oranges, till he came.

The gentleman lately arrived discovered a great deal of emotion at the distress of this poor creature, whom he observed to be fallen not into the most compassionate hands. And indeed, if Mrs Tow-wouse had given no utterance to the sweetness of her temper, Nature had taken such pains in her countenance, that Hogarth himself never gave more expression to a picture.

Her person was short, thin, and crooked. Her forehead projected in the middle, and thence descended in a declivity to the top of her nose, which was sharp and red, and would have hung over her lips, had not nature turned up the end of it. Her lips were two bits of skin, which, whenever she spoke, she drew together in a purse. Her chin was peaked; and at the upper end of

that skin, which composed her cheeks, stood two bones, that almost hid a pair of small red eyes. Add to this a voice most wonderfully adapted to the sentiments it was to convey, being both loud and hoarse.

It is not easy to say whether the gentleman had conceived a greater dislike for his landlady, or compassion for her unhappy guest. He inquired very earnestly of the surgeon, who was now come into the kitchen, whether he had any hopes of his recovery? he begged him to use all possible means towards it, telling him, "it was the duty of men of all professions to apply their skill gratis for the relief of the poor and necessitous." The surgeon answered," he should take proper care; but he defied all the surgeons in London to do him any good." "Pray, sir," said the gentleman, "what are his wounds?" "Why, do you know any thing of wounds?" says the surgeon, (winking upon Mrs Towwouse.) "Sir, I have a small smattering in surgery," answered the gentleman. "A smattering,-ho, ho, ho!" said the surgeon, "I believe it is a smattering indeed."

The company were all attentive, expecting to hear the doctor, who was what they call a dry fellow, expose the gentleman.

He began therefore with an air of triumph: “I suppose, sir, you have travelled." "No really, sir," said the gentleman. "Ho! then you have practised in the hospitals, perhaps?""No, sir." "Hum! not that neither? Whence, sir, then, if I may be so bold to enquire, have you got your knowledge in surgery?" "Sir," answered the gentleman, "I do not pretend to much; but the little I know I have from books." "Books!" cries the doctor,-" What, I suppose you have read Galen and Hippocrates?" "No, sir," said the gentleman. "How! you under stand surgery," answers the doctor," and not read Galen and Hippocrates!" Sir," cries the other, "I believe there are many surgeons who have never read these authors." "I believe so too," said the doctor, "more shame for them; but thanks to my education, I have them by heart, and very seldom go without them both in my pocket.” “They are pretty large books," said the gentleman." Ay," said the doctor, "I believe I know how large they are better than you." (At which he fell a winking, and the whole company burst into a laugh.)

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The doctor, pursuing his triumph, asked the gentleman, " if he did not understand physic as well as surgery." "Rather better," answered the gentleman. "Ay, like enough," cries the doctor, with a wink. Why, I know a little of physic too." "I wish I ever knew half so much," said Tow-wouse, “I'd never wear an apron again." "Why, I believe, landlord," cries the doctor, "there are few men, though I say it, within twelve miles of the place, that handle a fever better.-Veniente accurrite morbo: that is my method.I suppose, brother, you un-derstand Latin?" "A little," says the gentle

man. "Ay, and Greek now I'll warrant you: Ton dapomibominos poluflosbio Thalasses. But I have almost forgot these things; I could have repeated Homer by heart once.' Ifags! the gentleman hath caught a Traytor," says Mrs Tow-wouse; at which they all fell a laughing.

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The gentleman, who had not the least affection for joking, very contentedly suffered the doctor to enjoy his victory; which he did with no small satisfaction: and having sufficiently sounded his depth, told him, "he was thoroughly convinced of his great learning and abilities, and that he would be obliged to him if he would let him know his opinion of his patient's case above stairs." "Sir," says the doctor, "his case is that of a dead man.-The contusion on his head has perforated the internal membrane of the occiput, and divelicated that radical small minute invisible nerve which coheres to the pericranium; and this was attended with a fever, at first symptomatic, then pneumatic; and he is at length grown deliruus, or delirious, as the vulgar express it."

He was proceeding in this learned manner, when a mighty noise interrupted him. Some young fellows in the neighbourhood had taken one of the thieves, and were bringing him into the inn. Betty ran up stairs with this news to Joseph; who begged they might search for a little piece of broken gold, which had a ribband tied to it, and which he could swear to amongst all the hoards of the richest men in the universe.

Notwithstanding the fellow's persisting in his innocence, the mob were very busy in searching him, and presently, among other things, pulled out the piece of gold just mentioned; which Betty no sooner saw, than she laid violent hands on it, and conveyed it up to Joseph, who received it with raptures of joy, and hugging it in his bosom, declared he could now die contented.

Within a few minutes afterwards came in some other fellows, with a bundle which they had found in a ditch, and which was indeed the clothes which had been stripped off from Joseph, and the other things they had taken from him.

The gentleman no sooner saw the coat than he declared he knew the livery; and, if it had been taken from the poor creature above stairs, desired he might see him: for that he was very well acquainted with the family to whom the livery belonged.

He was accordingly conducted up by Betty: but what, reader, was the surprise on both sides when he saw Joseph was the person in bed ; and when Joseph discovered the face of his good friend Mr Abraham Adams!

It would be impertinent to insert a discourse which chiefly turned on the relation of matters already well known to the reader: for as soon as the curate had satisfied Joseph concerning the perfect health of his Fanny, he was on his side very inquisitive into all the particulars which had produced this unfortunate accident.

To return therefore to the kitchen, where a great variety of company were now assembled from all the rooms of the house, as well as the neighbourhood; so much delight do men take in contemplating the countenance of a thief.

Mr Tow-wouse began to rub his hands with pleasure at seeing so large an assembly; who would, he hoped, shortly adjourn into several apartments, in order to discourse over the robbery, and drink a health to all honest men. But Mrs Tow-wouse, whose misfortune it was commonly to see things a little perversely, began to rail at those who brought the fellow into her house; telling her husband, "they were very likely to thrive who kept a house of entertainment for beggars and thieves."

The mob had now finished their search, and could find nothing about the captive likely to prove any evidence: for as to the clothes, though the mob were very well satisfied with that proof, yet, as the surgeon observed, they could not convict him, because they were not found in his custody; to which Barnabas agreed, and added, that these were bona waviata, and belonged to the lord of the manor.

"How," says the surgeon, "do you say these goods belong to the lord of the manor ?" "I do," cried Barnabas. "Then I deny it," says the surgeon. "What can the lord of the manor have to do in the case? Will any one attempt to persuade me that what a man finds is not his own!" "I have heard," (says an old fellow in the corner) Justice Wiseone say that if every man had his right, whatever is found belongs to the king of London." "That may be true," says Barnabas," in some sense; for the law makes a difference between things stolen and things found: for a thing may be stolen that is never found, and a thing may be found that never was stolen. Now goods that are both stolen and found are waviata, and they belong to the lord of the manor. "So the lord of the manor is the receiver of stolen goods," says the doctor; at which there was a universal laugh, being first begun by himself.

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While the prisoner, by persisting in his innocence, had almost (as there was no evidence against him) brought over Barnabas, the surgeon, Tow-wouse, and several others, to his side, Betty informed them, that they had overlooked a little piece of gold, which she had carried up to the man in bed; and which he offered to swear to amongst a million, ay, amongst ten thousand. This immediately turned the scale against the prisoner, and every one now concluded him guilty. It was resolved therefore to keep him secured that night, and early in the morning to carry him before a justice.

CHAP. XV.

Shewing 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 want any thing 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 shew 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 drest 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 a society of booksellers, who pro

posed 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 three pence 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 shew his gratitude to such a friend." Adams bade him "be chearful; 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 his 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."

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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 public 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 Lawtables; 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 e 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 chap ter; and so I return to my history.

CHAP. XVI.

The escape of the thief. Mr Adams's disappointment. The arrival of two very extraordinary

personages, and the introduction of Parson threw down the beer, and without uttering any Adams to Parson Barnabus.

BARNABAS and the surgeon being returned, as we have said, to the inn, in order to convey the thief before the justice, were greatly concerned to find a small accident had happened, which somewhat disconcerted them; and this was no other than the thief's escape, who had modestly withdrawn himself by night, declining all ostentation, and not chusing, in imitation of some great men, to distinguish himself at the expence of being pointed at.

When the company had retired the evening before, the thief was detained in a room where the constable, and one of the young fellows who took him, were planted as his guard. About the second watch, a general complaint of drowth was made both by the prisoner and his keepers; among whom it was at last agreed, that the constable should remain on duty, and the young fellow call up the tapster; in which disposition, the latter apprehended not the least danger, as the constable was well armed, and could besides easily summon him back to his assistance, if the prisoner made the least attempt to gain his liberty.

The young fellow had not long left the room, before it came into the constable's head, that the prisoner might leap on him by surprise, and thereby, preventing him of the use of his weapons, especially the long staff, in which he chiefly confided, might reduce the success of a struggle to an equal chance. He wisely therefore, to prevent this inconvenience, slipt out of the room himself, and locked the door, waiting without with his staff in his hand, ready lifted to fell the unhappy prisoner, if by ill fortune he should attempt to break out.

But human life, as hath been discovered by some great man or other, (for I would by no means be understood to affect the honour of making any such discovery) very much resembles a game at chess: for as in the latter, while a gamester is too attentive to secure himself very strongly on one side the board, he is apt to leave an unguarded opening on the other; so doth it, often happen in life; and so did it happen on this occasion: for whilst the cautious constable with such wonderful sagacity had possessed himself of the door, he most unhappily forgot the window.

The thief, who played on the other side, no sooner perceived this opening, than he began to move that way; and finding the passage easy, he took with him the young fellow's hat; and without any ceremony stepped into the street, and made the best of his way.

The young fellow returning with a double mug of strong beer, was a little surprised to find the constable at the door; but much more so, when, the door being opened, he perceived the prisoner had made his escape, and which way.

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thing to the constable, except a hearty curse or two, he nimbly leapt out at the window, and went again in pursuit of his prey; being very unwilling to lose the reward which he had assured himself of.

The constable hath not been discharged of suspicion on this account: it hath been said, that not being concerned in the taking the thief, he could not have been entitled to any part of the reward, if he had been convicted; that the thief had several guineas in his pocket; that it was very unlikely he should have been guilty of such an oversight; that his pretence for leaving the room was absurd; that it was his constant maxim, that a wise man never refused money on any conditions; that at every election he always had sold his vote to both parties, &c.

But notwithstanding these and many other allegations, I am sufficiently convinced of his innocence; having been positively assured of it by those who received their informations from his own mouth; which, in the opinion of some moderns, is the best, and indeed only evidence.

All the family were now up, and, with many others, assembled in the kitchen, where Mr Tow-wouse was in some tribulation; the surgeon having declared, that by law he was liable to be indicted for the thief's escape, as it was out of his house: he was a little comforted however by Mr Barnabas's opinion, that, as the escape was by night, the indictment would not lie.

Mrs Tow-wouse delivered herself in the following words: "Sure never was such a fool as my husband! would any other person living have left a man in the custody of such a drunken drowsy blockhead as Tom Suckbribe? (which was the constable's name) and if he could be indicted without any harm to his wife and children, I should be glad of it." (Then the bell rung in Joseph's room) "Why, Betty, John, Chamberlain, where the devil are you all? have you no ears, or no conscience, not to tend the sick better?-See what the gentleman wants; why don't you go yourself, Mr Tow-wouse? but any one may die for you; you have no more feeling than a deal-board. If a man lived a fortnight in your house without spending a penny, you would never put him in mind of it. See whether he drinks tea or coffee for breakfast.”

"Yes, my dear," cries Tow-wouse. She then asked the doctor and Mr Barnabas what morning's draught they chose, who answered they had a pot of cyder-and at the fire; which we will leave them merry over, and return to Joseph.

He had rose pretty early this morning: but though his wounds were far from threatening any danger, he was so sore with the bruises, that it was impossible for him to think of undertaking a journey yet: Mr Adams therefore, whose stock was visibly decreased with the expences of supper and breakfast, and which could not survive that day's scoring, began to consider how

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