The History Of The Life Of The Late Mr. Jonathan Wild The Great(Fiscle Part 3) by Henry Fielding (best books to read for young adults txt) 📖

And Cease To Call

Him So In The Latter Condition. Let Us See Then; How Hath Mr.

Bagshot Injured The Gentleman's Honour? Why,  He Hath Called Him A

Pick-Pocket; And That,  Probably,  By A Severe Construction And A

Long Roundabout Way Of Reasoning,  May Seem A Little To Derogate

From His Honour,  If Considered In A Very Nice Sense. Admitting It,

Therefore,  For Argument's Sake,  To Be Some Small Imputation On His

Honour,  Let Mr. Bagshot Give Him Satisfaction; Let Him Doubly And

Triply Repair This Oblique Injury By Directly Asserting That He

Believes He Is A Man Of Honour." The Gentleman Answered He Was

Content To Refer It To Mr. Wild,  And Whatever Satisfaction He

Thought Sufficient He Would Accept. "Let Him Give Me My Money

Again First," Said Bagshot,  "And Then I Will Call Him A Man Of

Honour With All My Heart." The Gentleman Then Protested He Had Not

Any,  Which Snap Seconded,  Declaring He Had His Eyes On Him All The

While; But Bagshot Remained Still Unsatisfied,  Till Wild,  Rapping

Out A Hearty Oath,  Swore He Had Not Taken A Single Farthing,

Adding That Whoever Asserted The Contrary Gave Him The Lie,  And He

Would Resent It. And Now,  Such Was The Ascendancy Of This Great

Man,  That Bagshot Immediately Acquiesced,  And Performed The

Ceremonies Required: And Thus,  By The Exquisite Address Of Our

Hero,  This Quarrel,  Which Had So Fatal An Aspect,  And Which

Between Two Persons So Extremely Jealous Of Their Honour Would

Most Certainly Have Produced Very Dreadful Consequences,  Was

Happily Concluded.

 

Mr. Wild Was Indeed A Little Interested In This Affair,  As He

Himself Had Set The Gentleman To Work,  And Had Received The

Book 1 Chapter 12 Pg 44

Greatest Part Of The Booty: And As To Mr. Snap's Deposition In His

Favour,  It Was The Usual Height To Which The Ardour Of That Worthy

Person's Friendship Too Frequently Hurried Him. It Was His

Constant Maxim That He Was A Pitiful Fellow Who Would Stick At A

Little Rapping [Footnote: Rapping Is A Cant Word For Perjury.] For

His Friend.

 

Book 1 Chapter 13 Pg 45

In Which The History Of Greatness Is Continued.

 

 

 

 

 

Matters Being Thus Reconciled,  And The Gaming Over,  From Reasons

Before Hinted,  The Company Proceeded To Drink About With The

Utmost Chearfulness And Friendship; Drinking Healths,  Shaking

Hands,  And Professing The Most Perfect Affection For Each Other.

All Which Were Not In The Least Interrupted By Some Designs Which

They Then Agitated In Their Minds,  And Which They Intended To

Execute As Soon As The Liquor Had Prevailed Over Some Of Their

Understandings. Bagshot And The Gentleman Intending To Rob Each

Other; Mr. Snap And Mr. Wild The Elder Meditating What Other

Creditors They Could Find Out To Charge The Gentleman Then In

Custody With; The Count Hoping To Renew The Play,  And Wild,  Our

Hero,  Laying A Design To Put Bagshot Out Of The Way,  Or,  As The

Vulgar Express It,  To Hang Him With The First Opportunity. But

None Of These Great Designs Could At Present Be Put In Execution,

For,  Mr. Snap Being Soon After Summoned Abroad On Business Of

Great Moment,  Which Required Likewise The Assistance Of Mr. Wild

The Elder And His Other Friend,  And As He Did Not Care To Trust To

The Nimbleness Of The Count's Heels,  Of Which He Had Already Had

Some Experience,  He Declared He Must Lock Up For That Evening.

Here,  Reader,  If Them Pleasest,  As We Are In No Great Haste,  We

Will Stop And Make A Simile. As When Their Lap Is Finished,  The

Cautious Huntsman To Their Kennel Gathers The Nimble-Footed

Hounds,  They With Lank Ears And Tails Slouch Sullenly On,  Whilst

He,  With His Whippers-In,  Follows Close At Their Heels,  Regardless

Of Their Dogged Humour,  Till,  Having Seen Them Safe Within The

Door,  He Turns The Key,  And Then Retires To Whatever Business Or

Pleasure Calls Him Thence; So With Lowring Countenance And

Reluctant Steps Mounted The Count And Bagshot To Their Chamber,  Or

Rather Kennel,  Whither They Were Attended By Snap And Those Who

Book 1 Chapter 13 Pg 46

Followed Him,  And Where Snap,  Having Seen Them Deposited,  Very

Contentedly Locked The Door And Departed. And Now,  Reader,  We

Will,  In Imitation Of The Truly Laudable Custom Of The World,

Leave These Our Good Friends To Deliver Themselves As They Can,

And Pursue The Thriving Fortunes Of Wild,  Our Hero,  Who,  With That

Great Aversion To Satisfaction And Content Which Is Inseparably

Incident To Great Minds,  Began To Enlarge His Views With His

Prosperity: For This Restless,  Amiable Disposition,  This Noble

Avidity Which Increases With Feeding,  Is The First Principle Or

Constituent Quality Of These Our Great Men; To Whom,  In Their

Passage On To Greatness,  It Happens As To A Traveller Over The

Alps,  Or,  If This Be A Too Far-Fetched Simile,  To One Who Travels

Westward Over The Hills Near Bath,  Where The Simile Was Indeed

Made. He Sees Not The End Of His Journey At Once; But,  Passing On

From Scheme To Scheme,  And From Hill To Hill,  With Noble

Constancy,  Resolving Still To Attain The Summit On Which He Hath

Fixed His Eve,  However Dirty The Roads May Be Through Which He

Struggles,  He At Length Arrives----At Some Vile Inn,  Where He

Finds No Kind Of Entertainment Nor Conveniency For Repose. I

Fancy,  Reader,  If Thou Hast Ever Travelled In These Roads,  One

Part Of My Simile Is Sufficiently Apparent (And,  Indeed,  In All

These Illustrations,  One Side Is Generally Much More Apparent Than

The Other); But,  Believe Me,  If The Other Doth Not So Evidently

Appear To Thy Satisfaction,  It Is From No Other Reason Than

Because Thou Art Unacquainted With These Great Men,  And Hast Not

Had Sufficient Instruction,  Leisure,  Or Opportunity,  To Consider

What Happens To Those Who Pursue What Is Generally Understood By

Greatness: For Surely,  If Thou Hadst Animadverted,  Not Only On The

Many Perils To Which Great Men Are Daily Liable While They Are In

Their Progress,  But Hadst Discerned,  As It Were Through A

Microscope (For It Is Invisible To The Naked Eye),  That Diminutive

Speck Of Happiness Which They Attain Even In The Consummation Of

Their Wishes,  Thou Wouldst Lament With Me The Unhappy Fate Of

These Great Men,  On Whom Nature Hath Set So Superior A Mark,  That

The Rest Of Mankind Are Born For Their Use And Emolument Only,  And

Be Apt To Cry Out,  "It Is Pity That Those For Whose Pleasure And

Profit Mankind Are To Labour And Sweat,  To Be Hacked And Hewed,  To

Be Pillaged,  Plundered,  And Every War Destroyed,  Should Reap So

Little Advantage From All The Miseries They Occasion To Others."

For My Part,  I Own Myself Of That Humble Kind Of Mortals Who

Consider Themselves Born For The Behoof Of Some Great Man Or

Other,  And Could I Behold His Happiness Carved Out Of The Labour

And Ruin Of A Thousand Such Reptiles As Myself I Might With

Satisfaction Exclaim,  Sic,  Sic Juvat: But When I Behold One Great

Man Starving With Hunger And Freezing With Cold,  In The Midst Of

Fifty Thousand Who Are Suffering The Same Evils For His Diversion;

When I See Another,  Whose Own Mind Is A More Abject Slave To His

Own Greatness,  And Is More Tortured And Racked By It,  Than Those

Of All His Vassals; Lastly,  When I Consider Whole Nations Rooted

Out Only To Bring Tears Into The Eyes Of A Great Man,  Not Indeed

Because He Hath Extirpated So Many,  But Because He Had No More

Nations To Extirpate,  Then Truly I Am Almost Inclined To Wish That

Nature Had Spared Us This Her Masterpiece,  And That No Great Man

Had Ever Been Born Into The World.

Book 1 Chapter 13 Pg 47

 

But To Proceed With Our History,  Which Will,  We Hope,  Produce Much

Better Lessons,  And More Instructive,  Than Any We Can Preach: Wild

Was No Sooner Retired To A Night-Cellar Than He Began To Reflect

On The Sweets He Had That Day Enjoyed From The Labours Of Others,

Viz.,  First,  From Mr. Bagshot,  Who Had For His Use Robbed The

Count; And,  Secondly,  From The Gentleman,  Who,  For The Same Good

Purpose,  Had Picked The Pocket Of Bagshot. He Then Proceeded To

Reason Thus With Himself: "The Art Of Policy Is The Art Of

Multiplication,  The Degrees Of Greatness Being Constituted By

Those Two Little Words More Or Less. Mankind Are First Properly To

Be Considered Under Two Grand Divisions,  Those That Use Their Own

Hands,  And Those Who Employ The Hands Of Others. The Former Are

The Base And Rabble; The Latter,  The Genteel Part Of The Creation.

The Mercantile Part Of The World,  Therefore,  Wisely Use Of The

Term Employing Hands,  And Justly Prefer Each Other As They Employ

More Or Fewer; For Thus One Merchant Says He Is Greater Than

Another Because He Employs More Hands. And Now Indeed The Merchant

Should Seem To Challenge Some Character Of Greatness,  Did We Not

Necessarily Come To A Second Division,  Viz.,  Of Those Who Employ

Hands For The Use Of The Community In Which They Live,  And Of

Those Who Employ Hands Merely For Their Own Use,  Without Any

Regard To The Benefit Of Society. Of The Former Sort Are The

Yeoman,  The Manufacturer,  The Merchant,  And Perhaps The Gentleman.

The First Of These Being To Manure And Cultivate His Native Soil,

And To Employ Hands To Produce The Fruits Of The Earth. The Second

Being To Improve Them By Employing Hands Likewise,  And To Produce

From Them Those Useful Commodities Which Serve As Well For The

Conveniences As Necessaries Of Life. The Third Is To Employ Hands

For The Exportation Of The Redundance Of Our Own Commodities,  And

To Exchange Them With The Redundances Of Foreign Nations,  That

Thus Every Soil And Every Climate May Enjoy