12. CHAPTER XII.
Containing love-letters, etc.
Jones was commanded to leave the house immediately, and told, that
his clothes and everything else should be sent to him whithersoever he
should order them.
He accordingly set out, and walked above a mile, not regarding,
and indeed scarce knowing, whither he went. At length a little brook
obstructing his passage, he threw himself down by the side of it;
nor could he help muttering with some little indignation, "Sure my
father will not deny me this place to rest in!"
Here he presently fell into the most violent agonies, tearing his
hair from his head, and using most other actions which generally
accompany fits of madness, rage, and despair.
When he had in this manner vented the first emotions of passion,
he began to come a little to himself. His grief now took another turn,
and discharged itself in a gentler way, till he became at last cool
enough to reason with his passion, and to consider what steps were
proper to be taken in his deplorable condition.
And now the great doubt was, how to act with regard to Sophia. The
thoughts of leaving her almost rent his heart asunder; but the
consideration of reducing her to ruin and beggary still racked him, if
possible, more; and if the violent desire of possessing her person
could have induced him to listen one moment to this alternative, still
he was by no means certain of her resolution to indulge his wishes
at so high an expense. The resentment of Mr. Allworthy, and the injury
he must do to his quiet, argued strongly against this latter; and
lastly, the apparent impossibility of his success, even if he would
sacrifice all these considerations to it, came to his assistance;
and thus honour at last backed with despair, with gratitude to his
benefactors, and with real love to his mistress, got the better of
burning desire, and he resolved rather to quit Sophia, than pursue her
to her ruin.
It is difficult for any who have not felt it, to conceive the
glowing warmth which filled his breast on the first contemplation of
this victory over his passion. Pride flattered him so agreeably,
that his mind perhaps enjoyed perfect happiness; but this was only
momentary: Sophia soon returned to his imagination, and allayed the
joy of his triumph with no less bitter pangs than a good-natured
general must feel, when he surveys the bleeding heaps, at the price of
whose blood he hath purchased his laurels; for thousands of tender
ideas lay murdered before our conqueror.
Being resolved, however, to pursue the paths of this giant honour,
as the gigantic poet Lee calls it, he determined to write a farewell
letter to Sophia; and accordingly proceeded to a house not far off,
where, being furnished with proper materials, he wrote as follows:-
"MADAM,-
"WHEN you reflect on the situation in which I write, I am sure your
good-nature will pardon any inconsistency or absurdity which my letter
contains; for everything here flows from a heart so full, that no
language can express its dictates.
"I have resolved, madam, to obey your commands, in flying for ever
from your dear, your lovely sight. Cruel indeed those commands are;
but it is a cruelty which proceeds from fortune, not from my Sophia.
Fortune hath made it necessary, necessary to your preservation, to
forget there ever was such a wretch as I am.
"Believe me, I would not hint all my sufferings to you, if I imagined
they could possibly escape your ears. I know the goodness and
tenderness of your heart, and would avoid giving you any of those
pains which you always feel for the miserable. O let nothing, which
you shall hear of my hard fortune, cause a moment's concern; for,
after the loss of you, everything is to me a trifle.
"O Sophia! it is hard to leave you; it is harder still to desire
you to forget me; yet the sincerest love obliges me to both. Pardon my
conceiving that any remembrance of me can give you disquiet; but if
I am so gloriously wretched, sacrifice me every way to your relief.
Think I never loved you; or think truly how little I deserve you;
and learn to scorn me for a presumption which can never be too
severely punished.- I am unable to say more.- May guardian angels
protect you for ever!"
He was now searching his pockets for his wax, but found none, nor
indeed anything else, therein; for in truth he had, in his frantic
disposition, tossed everything from him, and amongst the rest, his
pocket-book, which he had received from Mr. Allworthy, which he had
never opened, and which now first occurred to his memory.
The house supplied him with a wafer for his present purpose, with
which, having sealed his letter, he returned hastily towards the brook
side, in order to search for the things which he had there lost. In
his way he met his old friend Black George, who heartily condoled with
him on his misfortune; for this had already reached his ears, and
indeed those of all the neighbourhood.
Jones acquainted the gamekeeper with his loss, and he as readily
went back with him to the brook, where they searched every tuft of
grass in the meadow, as well where Jones had not been as where he
had been; but all to no purpose, for they found nothing; for,
indeed, though the things were then in the meadow, they omitted to
search the only place where they were deposited; to wit, in the
pockets of the said George; for he had just before found them, and
being luckily apprized of their value, had very carefully put them
up for his own use.
The gamekeeper having exerted as much diligence in quest of the lost
goods, as if he had hoped to find them, desired Mr. Jones to recollect
if he had been in no other place: "For sure," said he, "if you had
lost them here so lately, the things must have been here still; for
this is a very unlikely place for any one to pass by." And indeed it
was by great accident that he himself had passed through that field,
in order to lay wires for hares, with which he was to supply a
poulterer at Bath the next morning.
Jones now gave over all hopes of recovering his loss, and almost all
thoughts concerning it, and turning to Black George, asked him
earnestly if he would do him the greatest favour in the world?
George answered with some hesitation, "Sir, you know you may command
me whatever is in my power, and I heartily wish it was in my power
to do you any service." In fact, the question staggered him; for he
had, by selling game, amassed a pretty good sum of money in Mr.
Western's service, and was afraid that Jones wanted to borrow some
small matter of him; but he was presently relieved from his anxiety,
by being desired to convey a letter to Sophia, which with great
pleasure he promised to do. And indeed I believe there are few favours
which he would not have gladly conferred on Mr. Jones; for he bore
as much gratitude towards him as he could, and was as honest as men
who love money better than any other thing in the universe,
generally are.
Mrs. Honour was agreed by both to be the proper means by which
this letter should pass to Sophia. They then separated; the gamekeeper
returned home to Mr. Western's, and Jones walked to an alehouse at
half a mile's distance, to wait for his messenger's return.
George no sooner came home to his master's house than he met with
Mrs. Honour; to whom, having first sounded her with a few previous
questions, he delivered the letter for her mistress, and received at
the same time another from her, for Mr. Jones; which Honour told him
she had carried all that day in her bosom, and began to despair of
finding any means of delivering it.
The gamekeeper returned hastily and joyfully to Jones, who, having
received Sophia's letter from him, instantly withdrew, and eagerly
breaking it open, read as follows:-
"SIR,
"It is impossible to express what I have felt since I saw you. Your
submitting, on my account, to such cruel insults from my father,
lays me under an obligation I shall ever own. As you know his
temper, I beg you will, for my sake, avoid him. I wish I had any
comfort to send you; but believe this, that nothing but the last
violence shall ever give my hand or heart where you would be sorry
to see them bestowed."
Jones read this letter a hundred times over, and kissed it a hundred
times as often. His passion now brought all tender desires back into
his mind. He repented that he had writ to Sophia in the manner we have
seen above; but he repented more that he had made use of the
interval of his messenger's absence to write and dispatch a letter
to Mr. Allworthy, in which he had faithfully promised and bound
himself to quit all thoughts of his love. However, when his cool
reflections returned, he plainly perceived that his case was neither
mended nor altered by Sophia's billet, unless to give him some
little glimpse of hope, from her constancy, of some favourable
accident hereafter. He therefore resumed his resolution, and taking
leave of Black George, set forward to a town about five miles distant,
whither he had desired Mr. Allworthy, unless he pleased to revoke
his sentence, to send his things after him.