lieved she was nearer related to turpis; at which there was an universal laugh. They were proceeding thus with the poor girl, when somebody smoking the cassock peeping forth from under the great coat of Adams, cried out, "What have we here, a parson?" "How, sirrah," says the justice, "do you go a robbing in the dress of a clergyman? let me tell you, your habit will not entitle you to the benefit of the clergy." "Yes," said the witty fellow," he will have one benefit of clergy, he will be exalted above the heads of the people:" at which there was a second laugh. And now the witty spark, seeing his jokes take, began to rise in spirits; and turning to Adams, challenged him to cap verses, and provoking him by giving the first blow, he repeated, Molle meum levibus cord est vilebile telis. Upon which Adams, with a look of ineffable contempt, told him, he deserved scourging for his pronunciation. The witty fellow answered, "What do you deserve, doctor, for not being able to answer the first time? Why I'll give you one, you blockhead, with an S. Si licet, ut fulvum spectatur in ignibus haurum. "What, can'st not with an M neither? Thou art a pretty fellow for a parson. Why didst not steal some of the parson's Latin, as well as his gown?" Another at the table then answered, "If he had, you would have been too hard for him: I remember you at the college a very devil at this sport: I have seen you catch a fresh man; for nobody that knew you would engage with you." "I have forgot those things now," cried the wit; "I believe I could have done pretty well formerly.-Let's see, what did I end with -an M again-ay Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, virorum. I could have done it once.". "Ah! evil betide you, and so you can now," said the other, "nobody in this country will undertake you. Adams could hold no longer; " Friend," said he, "I have a boy not above eight years old, who would instruct thee, that the last verse runs thus: Ut sunt divorum, Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, viro rum. "I'll hold thee a guinea of that," said the wit, throwing the money on the table.- "And I'll go your halves," cries the other. "Done," answered Adams; but on applying to his pocket, he was forced to retract, and own he had no money about him; which set them all a-laughing, and confirmed the triumph of his adversary, which was not moderate, any more than the approbation he met with from the whole company, who told Adams he must go a little longer to school, before he attempted to attack that gentleman in Latin. The clerk having finished the depositions, as well of the fellow himself, as of those who apprehended the prisoners, delivered them to the justice; who having sworn the several witnesses, without reading a syllable, ordered his clerk to make the mittimus. Adams then said, he hoped he should not be condemned unheard. "No, no," cries the justice, " you will be asked what you have to say for yourself when you come on your trial: we are not trying you now; I shall only commit you to gaol; if you can prove your innocence at 'Size, you will be found Ignoramus, and so no harm done." "Is it no punishment, sir, for an innocent man to lie several months in gaol?" cries Adams: "I beg you would at least hear me before you sign the mittimus." "What signifies all you can say?" says the justice, "is it not here in black and white against you? I must tell you, you are a very impertinent fellow, to take up so much of my time.-So make haste with his mittimus." The clerk now acquainted the justice, that among other suspicious things, as a penknife, &c. found in Adams's pocket, they had discoverphers; for no one could read a word in it. "Ay," ed a book, written, as he apprehended, in cysays the justice, " the fellow may be more than a common robber, he may be in a plot against the government-Produce the book." Upon which the poor manuscript of Eschylus, which Adams had transcribed with his own hand, was brought forth; and the justice looking at it shook his head, and turning to the prisoner, asked the meaning of those cyphers. "Cyphers!" answered Adams," it is a manuscript of schylus." "Who? who?" said the justice. Adams repeated, "Eschylus." "That is an outlandish name,' cried the clerk. "A fictitious name rather, I believe," said the justice. One of the company declared it looked very much like Greek. "Greek!" said the justice, "why 'tis all writing." "No," says the other," I don't positively say it is so: for it is a very long time since I have seen any Greek. There's one," says he, turning to the parson of the parish, who was present, "will tell us immediately." The parson taking up the book, and putting on his spectacles and gravity together, muttered some words to himself, and then pronounced aloud-" Ay, indeed, it is a Greck manuscript, a very fine piece of antiquity. I make no doubt but it was stolen from the same clergyman from whom the rogue took the cassock." What did the rascal mean by his Æschylus?" says the justice. "Pooh!" answered the doctor, with a contemptuous grin, “do you think that fellow knows any thing of this book? schylus! ho! ho! ho! I see now what it is-A manuscript of one of the fathers. I know a nobleman who would give a great deal of money for such a piece of antiquity.-Ay, ay-question and answer. The beginning is the catechism in Greck. -Ay,-ay,-Polaki toi-What's your name?" -"Ay, what's your name?" says the justice to Adams, who answered, "It is Eschylus, and I will maintain it."-" O, it is?" says the justice; "make Mr Eschylus his mittimus. I will teach you to banter me with a false name." mended to the care of a maid-servant of the house, who helped her to new dress, and clean herself. 66 The company in the parlour had not been long seated, before they were alarmed with a One of the company having looked stedfastly horrible uproar from without, where the persons at Adams, asked him, if he did not know Lady who had apprehended Adams and Fanny had Booby? Upon which Adams, presently calling been regaling, according to the custom of the him to mind, answered in a rapture, "O, Squire, house, with the justice's strong beer. These are you there? I believe you will inform his were all fallen together by the ears, and were worship I am innocent." "I can indeed, say," cuffing each other without any mercy. The jusreplied the squire," that I am very much surpri- tice himself sallied out, and with the dignity of sed to see you in this situation;" and then ad- his presence soon put an end to the fray. On dressing himself to the justice, he said, " Sir, I his return into the parlour, he reported, that assure you, Mr Adams is a clergyman as he ap- the occasion of the quarrel was no other than a pears, and a gentleman of a very good charac- dispute, to whom, if Adams had been convicted, ter. I wish you would inquire a little farther the greater share of the reward for apprehendinto this affair; for I am convinced of his inno- ing him had belonged. All the company laughtence." "Nay," says the justice, "if he is a gen- ed at this, except Adams, who, taking his pipe tleman, and you are sure he is innocent, I don't from his mouth, fetched a deep groan, and said, desire to commit him, not I; I will commit the he was concerned to see so litigious a temper woman by herself, and take your bail for the in men. That he remembered a story somegentleman. Look into the book, clerk, and see thing like it in one of the parishes where his how it is to take bail; come-and make the cure lay: "There was," continued he, a committimus for the woman as fast as you can." petition between three young fellows for the "Sir," cries Adams, "I assure you she is as in- place of the clerk, which I disposed of to the nocent as myself." "Perhaps," said the squire, best of my abilities, according to merit: that is, "there may be some mistake; pray let us hear I gave it to him who had the happiest knack at Mr Adams's relation." "With all my heart." setting a psalm. The clerk was no sooner estaanswered the justice, "and give the gentleman blished in his place, than a contention began bea glass to whet his whistle before he begins. I tween the two disappointed candidates concernknow how to behave myself to gentlemen as well ing their excellence, each contending on whom, as another. Nobody can say I have committed had the two been the only competitors, my eleca gentleman, since I have been in the commis- tion would have fallen. This dispute frequentsion." Adams then began the narrative, in which, ly disturbed the congregation, and introduced a though he was very prolix, he was uninterrupt- discord into the psalmody, till I was forced to ed, unless by several hums and ha's of the jus- silence them both. But, alas! the litigious tice, and his desire to repeat those parts which spirit could not be stifled; and being no longer seemed to him most material. When he had able to vent itself in singing, it now broke forth finished, the justice, who, on what the squire in fighting. It produced many battles, (for they had said, believed every syllable of his story on were very near a match) and I believe would his bare affirmation, notwithstanding the depo- have ended fatally, had not the death of the sitions on oath to the contrary, began to let loose clerk given me an opportunity to promote one of several rogues and rascals against the witness, them to his place, which presently put an end whom he ordered to stand forth, but in vain : to the dispute, and entirely reconciled the conthe said witness, long since finding what turn tending parties." Adams then proceeded to make matters were like to take, had privily withdrawn, a some philosophical observations on the folly of without attending the issue. The justice now growing warm in disputes, in which neither flew into a violent passion, and was hardly pre- party was interested. He then applied himself vailed with not to commit the innocent fellows, vigorously to smoaking, and a long silence enwho had been imposed on as well as himself. sued, which was at length broke by the justice, He swore, they had best find out the fellow who began to sing forth his own praises, and to who was guilty of perjury, and bring him be- value himself exceedingly on his nice discernfore him within two days, or he would bind ment in the cause which had lately been before them all over to their good behaviour. They him. He was quickly interrupted by Mr Adams, all promised to use their best endeavours to that between whom and his worship a dispute now purpose, and were dismissed. Then the justice arose, whether he ought not, in strictness of law, insisted, that Mr Adams should sit down and to have committed him, the said Adams; in take a glass with him; and the parson of the which the latter maintained he ought to have parish delivered him back the manuscript with- been committed, and the justice as vehemently out saying a word: nor would Adams, who held he ought not. This had most probably plainly discerned his ignorance, expose it. As produced a quarrel, (for both were very violent for Fanny, she was, at her own request, recom- and positive in their opinions) had not Fanny accidentally heard, that a young fellow was going from the justice's house to the very inn where the stage-coach, in which Joseph was, put up. Upon this news she immediately sent for the parson out of the parlour. Adams, when he found her resolute to go, (though she would not own the reason, but pretended she could not bear to see the faces of those who had suspected her of such a crime) was fully determined to go with her; he accordingly took leave of the justice and company, and so ended a dispute in which the law seemed shamefully to intend to set a magistrate and a divine together by the ears. CHAP. XII. A very delightful adventure, as well to the persons concerned, as to the good-natured reader. ADAMS, Fanny, and the guide set out together, about one in the morning, the moon being then just risen. They had not gone above a mile before a most violent storm of rain obliged them to take shelter in an inn, or rather alehouse; where Adams immediately procured himself a good fire, a toast and ale, and a pipe, and began to smoke with great content, utterly forgetting every thing that had happened. Fanny sat likewise down by the fire, but was much more impatient at the storm. She presently engaged the eyes of the host, his wife, the maid of the house, and the young fellow who was their guide; they all conceived they had never seen any thing half so handsome: and indeed, reader, if thou art of an amorous hue, I advise you to skip over the next paragraph; which, to render our history perfect, we are obliged to set down, humbly hoping that we may escape the fate of Pygmalion: for if it should happen to us or to thee to be struck with this picture, we should be perhaps in as helpless a condition as Narcissus, and might say to ourselves, Quod petis est nusquam. Or, if the finest features in it should set Lady -'s image before our eyes, we should be still in as bad a situation, and might say to our desires, Calum ipsum petimus stultitia. Fanny was now in the nineteenth year of her age; she was tall and delicately shaped; but not one of those slender young women, who seem rather intended to hang up in the hall of an anatomist than for any other purpose. On the contrary, she was so plump, that she seemed bursting through her tight stays, especially in the part which confined her swelling breasts. Nor did her hips want the assistance of a hoop to extend them. The exact shape of her arms denoted the form of those limbs which she concealed; and though they were a little reddened by her labour, yet if her sleeve slipt above her elbow, or her handkerchief discovered any part of her neck, a whiteness appeared which the finest Italian paint would be unable to reach. Her hair was of a chesnut brown, and Nature had been extremely lavish to her of it, which she had cut, and on Sundays used to curl down her neck in the modern fashion. Her forehead was high, her eye-brows arched, and rather full than otherwise. Her eyes black and sparkling; her nose just inclining to the Roman; her lips red and moist, and her under-lip, according to the opinion of the ladies, too pouting. Her teeth were white, but not exactly even. The smallpox had left one only mark on her chin, which was so large, it might have been mistaken for a dimple, had not her left cheek produced one so near a neighbour to it, that the former served only for a foil to the latter. Her complexion was fair, a little injured by the sun, but overspread with such a bloom, that the finest ladies would have exchanged all their white for it: add to these a countenance, in which, though she was extremely bashful, a sensibility appeared almost incredible; and a sweetness, whenever she smiled, beyond either imitation or description. To conclude all, she had a natural gentility, superior to the acquisition of art, and which surprised all who beheld her. This lovely creature was sitting by the fire with Adams, when her attention was suddenly engaged by a voice from an inner room, which sung the following song. The SONG. Say, Chloe, where must the swain stray, To what distant Lethe must run? O rapture! unthought of before, With his eyes he beheld his lov'd charms? Yet what he beheld, the fond boy More eagerly wish'd in his arms. How can it thy dear image be, Which grief and not joy can bestow? Ye powers, though with torment I rave, Though mortal will prove the fell smart, I then shall find rest in my grave. Ah! see the dear nymph o'er the plain And wafts all the sweets from the flowers! Ah rogue! whilst he kisses her eyes, More sweets from her breath he devours. My soul, whilst I gaze, is on fire; But her looks were so tender and kind, My hope almost reach'd my desire, And left lame despair far behind.; Transported with madness I flew, And eagerly seiz'd on my bliss; Her bosom but half she withdrew, But half she refus'd my fond kiss. Advances like these made me bold, No language can tell but their own. "Ah Chloe," expiring, I cry'd, "How long I thy cruelty bore?” "Ah! Strephon," she blushing reply'd, "You ne'er was so pressing before." Adams had been ruminating all this time on a passage in Eschylus, without attending in the least to the voice, though one of the most melodious that ever was heard; when casting his eyes on Fanny, he cried out, "Bless us! you look extremely pale." "Pale! Mr Adams," says she, O Jesus!" and fell backwards in her chair. Adams jumped up, flung his Eschylus into the fire, and fell a roaring to the people of the house for help. He soon summoned every one into the room, and the songster among the rest: but, O reader, when this nightingale, who was no other than Joseph Andrews himself, saw his beloved Fanny in the situation we have described her, canst thou conceive the agitations of his mind! If thou can'st not, wave that meditation to behold his happiness, when clasping her in his arms, he found life and blood returning to her cheeks; when he saw her open her beloved eyes, and heard her with the softest accent whisper, "Are you Joseph Andrews?" "Art thou my Fanny?" he answered eagerly, and pulling her to his heart, he imprinted numberless kisses on her lips, without considering who were present. If prudes are offended at the lusciousness of this pieture, they may take their eyes off from it, and survey Parson Adams dancing about the room in a rapture of joy. Some philosophers may perhaps doubt, whether he was not the happiest of the three; for the goodness of his heart enjoyed the blessings which were exulting in the breasts of both the other two, together with his own. But we shall leave such disquisitions, as too deep for us, to those who are building some favourite hypothesis, which they will refuse no metaphysical rubbish to erect and support for our part, we give it clearly on the side of Joseph, whose happiness was not only greater than the parson's, but of longer duration; for as soon as the first tumults of Adams's rapture were over, he cast his eyes towards the fire, where Eschylus lay expiring, and immediately rescued the poor remains, to wit, the sheep-skin covering, of his dear friend, which was the work of his own hands, and had been his inseparable companion for upwards of thirty years. Fanny had no sooner perfectly recovered her. self, than she began to restrain the impetuosity of her transports; and reflecting on what she had done and suffered in the presence of so many, she was immediately covered with confusion, and pushing Joseph gently from her, she begged him to be quiet; nor would admit of either kiss or embrace any longer. Then seeing Mrs Slipslop, she curtsied, and offered to advance to her; but that high woman would not return her curtsies, but casting her eyes another way, immediately withdrew into another room, muttering as she went, she wondered who the creature was. CHAP. XIII. A dissertation concerning high people and low people, with Mrs Slipslop's departure in no very good temper of mind, and the evil plight in which she left Adams and his company. IT will, doubtless, seem extremely odd to many readers, that Mrs Slipslop, who had lived several years in the same house with Fanny, should in a short separation utterly forget her. And indeed the truth is that she remembered her very well. As we would not willingly, therefore, that any thing should appear unnatural in this our history, we will endeavour to explain the reasons of her conduct; nor do we doubt being able to satisfy the most curious reader, that Mrs Slipslop did not in the least deviate from the common road in this behaviour; and indeed, had she done otherwise, she must have descended below herself, and would have very justly been liable to censure. Be it known then, that the human species are divided into two sorts of people, to wit, High people and Low people. As by high people I would not be understood to mean persons literally born higher in their dimensions than the rest of the species, nor metaphorically those of exalted characters or abilities; so by low people I cannot be construed to intend the reverse. High people signify no other than people of fashion, and low people those of no fashion. Now, this word fashion hath by long use lost its original meaning, from which at present it gives us a very different idea: for I am decei ved, if by persons of fashion, we do not generally include a conception of birth and accomplishments superior to the herd of mankind; whereas, in reality, nothing more was originally meant by a person of fashion, than a person who dress'd himself in the fashion of the times; and the word really and truly signifies no more at this day. Now, the world being thus divided into people of fashion and people of no fashion, a fierce contention arose between them; nor would those of one party, to avoid suspicion, be seen publicly to speak to those of the other, though they often held a very good correspondence in private. In this contention it is difficult to say what party succeeded: for whilst the people of fashion seized several places to their own use, such as courts, assemblies, operas, balls, &c. the people of no fashion, besides one royal place, called his Majesty's Bear-garden, have been in constant possession of all hops, fairs, revels, &c. Two places have been agreed to be divided between them, namely, the church and the play-house; where they segregate themselves from each other in a remarkable manner; for as the people of fashion exalt themselves at church over the heads of the people of no fashion, so in the play-house they abase themselves in the same degree under their feet. This distinction I have never met with any one able to account for: it is sufficient, that so far from looking on each other as brethren in the Christian language, they seem scarce to regard each other as of the same species. This the terms, "strange persons; people one does not know; the creature; wretches, beasts, brutes," and many other appellations, evidently demonstrate; which Mrs Slipslop having often heard her mistress use, thought she had also a right to use in her turn: and perhaps she was not mistaken; for these two parties, especially these bordering nearly on each other, to wit, the lowest of the high, and the highest of the low, often change their parties according to place and time: for those who are people of fashion in one place, are often people of no fashion in another. And with regard to time, it may not be unpleasant to survey the picture of dependence like a kind of ladder; as for instance, early in the morning arises the postillion, or some other boy, which great families no more than great ships are without, and falls to brushing the clothes, and cleaning the shoes of John the footman, who being dress'd himself, applies his hand to the same labours for Mr Secondhand, the Squire's gentleman; the gentleman, in the like manner, a little later in the day, attends the Squire; the Squire is no sooner equipped than he attends the levee of my Lord; which is no sooner over than my Lord himself is seen at the levee of the favourite; who, after the hour of homage is at an end, appears himself to pay homage at the levee of his sovereign. Nor is there, perhaps, in this whole ladder of dependence, any one step at a greater distance from the other than the first from the second: so that to a philosopher the question might only seem, whether you would chuse to be a great man at six in the morning, or at two in the afternoon? And yet there are scarce two of these, who do not think the least familiarity with the persons below them a condescension, and if they were to go one step farther, a degradation. And now, reader, I hope thou wilt pardon this long digression, which seemed to me necessary to vindicate the great character of Mrs Slipslop, from what low people, who have never seen high people, might think an absurdity: but we who know them must have daily found very high persons know us in one place, and not in another; to-day, and not to-morrow: all which it is difficult to account for, otherwise than I have here endeavoured; and perhaps, if the gods, according to the opinion of some, made men only to laugh at them, there is no part of our behaviour which answers the end of our creation better than this. But to return to our history. Adams, who knew no more of this than the cat which sat on the table, imagining Mrs Slipslop's memory had been much worse than it really was, followed her into the next room, crying out, "Madam Slipslop, here is one of your old acquaintance; do but see what a fine woman she is grown since she left Lady Booby's service." "I think I reflect something of her," answered she with great dignity, "but I can't remember all the inferior servants in our family." She then proceeded to satisfy Adams's curiosity, by telling him, "when she arrived at the inn, she found a chaise ready for her; that her lady being expected very shortly in the country, she was obliged to make the utmost haste, and in commensuration of Joseph's lameness, she had taken him with her; and fastly, that the excessive virulence of the storm had driven them into the house where he found them." After which she acquainted Adams with his having left his horse, and expressed some wonder at his having strayed so far out of his way, and at meeting him, as she said, “in the company of that wench, who, she feared, was no better than she should be." The horse was no sooner put into Adams's head, but he was immediately driven out of it by this reflection on the character of Fanny. He protested, he believed there was not a chaster damsel in the universe. "I heartily wish, I heartily wish," cried he, (snapping his fingers) "that all her betters were as good." He then proceeded to inform her of the accident of their meeting; but when he came to mention the circumstance of delivering her from the rape, she said, she thought him properer for the army than the clergy; that it did not become a clergyman to lay violent hands on any one; that he should have rather prayed that she might be |