CHAPTER XVI.
_A very curious adventure, in which Mr Adams gave a much greaterinstance of the honest simplicity of his heart, than of his experiencein the ways of this world._
Our travellers had walked about two miles from that inn, which they hadmore reason to have mistaken for a castle than Don Quixote ever had anyof those in which he sojourned, seeing they had met with such difficultyin escaping out of its walls, when they came to a parish, and beheld asign of invitation hanging out. A gentleman sat smoaking a pipe at thedoor, of whom Adams inquired the road, and received so courteous andobliging an answer, accompanied with so smiling a countenance, that thegood parson, whose heart was naturally disposed to love and affection,began to ask several other questions; particularly the name of theparish, and who was the owner of a large house whose front they then hadin prospect. The gentleman answered as obligingly as before; and as tothe house, acquainted him it was his own. He then proceeded in thefollowing manner: "Sir, I presume by your habit you are a clergyman; andas you are travelling on foot I suppose a glass of good beer will not bedisagreeable to you; and I can recommend my landlord's within as some ofthe best in all this country. What say you, will you halt a little andlet us take a pipe together? there is no better tobacco in the kingdom."This proposal was not displeasing to Adams, who had allayed his thirstthat day with no better liquor than what Mrs Trulliber's cellar hadproduced; and which was indeed little superior, either in richness orflavour, to that which distilled from those grains her generous husbandbestowed on his hogs. Having, therefore, abundantly thanked thegentleman for his kind invitation, and bid Joseph and Fanny follow him,he entered the alehouse, where a large loaf and cheese and a pitcher ofbeer, which truly answered the character given of it, being set beforethem, the three travellers fell to eating, with appetites infinitelymore voracious than are to be found at the most exquisite eating-housesin the parish of St. James's.
The gentleman expressed great delight in the hearty and cheerfulbehaviour of Adams; and particularly in the familiarity with which heconversed with Joseph and Fanny, whom he often called his children; aterm he explained to mean no more than his parishioners; saying, "Helooked on all those whom God had intrusted to his care to stand to himin that relation." The gentleman, shaking him by the hand, highlyapplauded those sentiments. "They are, indeed," says he, "the trueprinciples of a Christian divine; and I heartily wish they wereuniversal; but, on the contrary, I am sorry to say the parson of ourparish, instead of esteeming his poor parishioners as a part of hisfamily, seems rather to consider them as not of the same species withhimself. He seldom speaks to any, unless some few of the richest ofus; nay, indeed, he will not move his hat to the others. I often laughwhen I behold him on Sundays strutting along the churchyard like aturkey-cock through rows of his parishioners, who bow to him with asmuch submission, and are as unregarded, as a set of servile courtiersby the proudest prince in Christendom. But if such temporal pride isridiculous, surely the spiritual is odious and detestable; if such apuffed--up empty human bladder, strutting in princely robes, justlymoves one's derision, surely in the habit of a priest it must raiseour scorn."
"Doubtless," answered Adams, "your opinion is right; but I hope suchexamples are rare. The clergy whom I have the honour to know maintain adifferent behaviour; and you will allow me, sir, that the readinesswhich too many of the laity show to contemn the order may be one reasonof their avoiding too much humility." "Very true, indeed," says thegentleman; "I find, sir, you are a man of excellent sense, and am happyin this opportunity of knowing you; perhaps our accidental meeting maynot be disadvantageous to you neither. At present I shall only say toyou that the incumbent of this living is old and infirm, and that it isin my gift. Doctor, give me your hand; and assure yourself of it at hisdecease." Adams told him, "He was never more confounded in his life thanat his utter incapacity to make any return to such noble and unmeritedgenerosity." "A mere trifle, sir," cries the gentleman, "scarce worthyour acceptance; a little more than three hundred a year. I wish it wasdouble the value for your sake." Adams bowed, and cried from theemotions of his gratitude; when the other asked him, "If he was married,or had any children, besides those in the spiritual sense he hadmentioned." "Sir," replied the parson, "I have a wife and six at yourservice." "That is unlucky," says the gentleman; "for I would otherwisehave taken you into my own house as my chaplain; however, I have anotherin the parish (for the parsonage-house is not good enough), which I willfurnish for you. Pray, does your wife understand a dairy?" "I can'tprofess she does," says Adams. "I am sorry for it," quoth the gentleman;"I would have given you half-a-dozen cows, and very good grounds to havemaintained them." "Sir," said Adams, in an ecstasy, "you are tooliberal; indeed you are." "Not at all," cries the gentleman: "I esteemriches only as they give me an opportunity of doing good; and I neversaw one whom I had a greater inclination to serve." At which words heshook him heartily by the hand, and told him he had sufficient room inhis house to entertain him and his friends. Adams begged he might givehim no such trouble; that they could be very well accommodated in thehouse where they were; forgetting they had not a sixpenny piece amongthem. The gentleman would not be denied; and, informing himself how farthey were travelling, he said it was too long a journey to take on foot,and begged that they would favour him by suffering him to lend them aservant and horses; adding, withal, that, if they would do him thepleasure of their company only two days, he would furnish them with hiscoach and six. Adams, turning to Joseph, said, "How lucky is thisgentleman's goodness to you, who I am afraid would be scarce able tohold out on your lame leg!" and then, addressing the person who made himthese liberal promises, after much bowing, he cried out, "Blessed be thehour which first introduced me to a man of your charity! you are indeeda Christian of the true primitive kind, and an honour to the countrywherein you live. I would willingly have taken a pilgrimage to the HolyLand to have beheld you; for the advantages which we draw from yourgoodness give me little pleasure, in comparison of what I enjoy for yourown sake when I consider the treasures you are by these means laying upfor yourself in a country that passeth not away. We will therefore, mostgenerous sir, accept your goodness, as well the entertainment you haveso kindly offered us at your house this evening, as the accommodation ofyour horses to-morrow morning." He then began to search for his hat, asdid Joseph for his; and both they and Fanny were in order of departure,when the gentleman, stopping short, and seeming to meditate by himselffor the space of about a minute, exclaimed thus: "Sure never anythingwas so unlucky; I had forgot that my house-keeper was gone abroad, andhath locked up all my rooms; indeed, I would break them open for you,but shall not be able to furnish you with a bed; for she has likewiseput away all my linen. I am glad it entered into my head before I hadgiven you the trouble of walking there; besides, I believe you will findbetter accommodations here than you expected.--Landlord, you can providegood beds for these people, can't you?" "Yes, and please your worship,"cries the host, "and such as no lord or justice of the peace in thekingdom need be ashamed to lie in." "I am heartily sorry," says thegentleman, "for this disappointment. I am resolved I will never sufferher to carry away the keys again." "Pray, sir, let it not make youuneasy," cries Adams; "we shall do very well here; and the loan of yourhorses is a favour we shall be incapable of making any return to." "Ay!"said the squire, "the horses shall attend you here at what hour in themorning you please;" and now, after many civilities too tedious toenumerate, many squeezes by the hand, with most affectionate looks andsmiles at each other, and after appointing the horses at seven the nextmorning, the gentleman took his leave of them, and departed to his ownhouse. Adams and his companions returned to the table, where the parsonsmoaked another pipe, and then they all retired to rest.
Mr Adams rose very early, and called Joseph out of his bed, between whoma very fierce dispute ensued, whether Fanny should ride behind Joseph,or behind the gentleman's servant; Joseph insisting on it that he wasperfectly recovered, and was as capable of taking care of Fanny as anyother per
son could be. But Adams would not agree to it, and declared hewould not trust her behind him; for that he was weaker than he imaginedhimself to be.
This dispute continued a long time, and had begun to be very hot, when aservant arrived from their good friend, to acquaint them that he wasunfortunately prevented from lending them any horses; for that his groomhad, unknown to him, put his whole stable under a course of physic.
This advice presently struck the two disputants dumb: Adams cried out,"Was ever anything so unlucky as this poor gentleman? I protest I ammore sorry on his account than my own. You see, Joseph, how thisgood-natured man is treated by his servants; one locks up his linen,another physics his horses, and I suppose, by his being at this houselast night, the butler had locked up his cellar. Bless us! howgood-nature is used in this world! I protest I am more concerned on hisaccount than my own." "So am not I," cries Joseph; "not that I am muchtroubled about walking on foot; all my concern is, how we shall get outof the house, unless God sends another pedlar to redeem us. Butcertainly this gentleman has such an affection for you, that he wouldlend you a larger sum than we owe here, which is not above four or fiveshillings." "Very true, child," answered Adams; "I will write a letterto him, and will even venture to solicit him for three half-crowns;there will be no harm in having two or three shillings in our pockets;as we have full forty miles to travel, we may possibly have occasion forthem."
Fanny being now risen, Joseph paid her a visit, and left Adams towrite his letter, which having finished, he despatched a boy with it tothe gentleman, and then seated himself by the door, lighted his pipe,and betook himself to meditation.
The boy staying longer than seemed to be necessary, Joseph, who withFanny was now returned to the parson, expressed some apprehensions thatthe gentleman's steward had locked up his purse too. To which Adamsanswered, "It might very possibly be, and he should wonder at noliberties which the devil might put into the head of a wicked servantto take with so worthy a master;" but added, "that, as the sum was sosmall, so noble a gentleman would be easily able to procure it in theparish, though he had it not in his own pocket. Indeed," says he, "ifit was four or five guineas, or any such large quantity of money, itmight be a different matter."
They were now sat down to breakfast over some toast and ale, when theboy returned and informed them that the gentleman was not at home. "Verywell!" cries Adams; "but why, child, did you not stay till his return?Go back again, my good boy, and wait for his coming home; he cannot begone far, as his horses are all sick; and besides, he had no intentionto go abroad, for he invited us to spend this day and tomorrow at hishouse. Therefore go back, child, and tarry till his return home." Themessenger departed, and was back again with great expedition, bringingan account that the gentleman was gone a long journey, and would not beat home again this month. At these words Adams seemed greatlyconfounded, saying, "This must be a sudden accident, as the sickness ordeath of a relation or some such unforeseen misfortune;" and then,turning to Joseph, cried, "I wish you had reminded me to have borrowedthis money last night." Joseph, smiling, answered, "He was very muchdeceived if the gentleman would not have found some excuse to avoidlending it.--I own," says he, "I was never much pleased with hisprofessing so much kindness for you at first sight; for I have heard thegentlemen of our cloth in London tell many such stories of theirmasters. But when the boy brought the message back of his not being athome, I presently knew what would follow; for, whenever a man of fashiondoth not care to fulfil his promises, the custom is to order hisservants that he will never be at home to the person so promised. InLondon they call it denying him. I have myself denied Sir Thomas Boobyabove a hundred times, and when the man hath danced attendance for abouta month or sometimes longer, he is acquainted in the end that thegentleman is gone out of town and could do nothing in thebusiness."--"Good Lord!" says Adams, "what wickedness is there in theChristian world! I profess almost equal to what I have read of theheathens. But surely, Joseph, your suspicions of this gentleman must beunjust, for what a silly fellow must he be who would do the devil's workfor nothing! and canst thou tell me any interest he could possiblypropose to himself by deceiving us in his professions?"--"It is not forme," answered Joseph, "to give reasons for what men do, to a gentlemanof your learning."--"You say right," quoth Adams; "knowledge of men isonly to be learned from books; Plato and Seneca for that; and those areauthors, I am afraid, child, you never read."--"Not I, sir, truly,"answered Joseph; "all I know is, it is a maxim among the gentlemen ofour cloth, that those masters who promise the most perform the least;and I have often heard them say they have found the largest vails inthose families where they were not promised any. But, sir, instead ofconsidering any farther these matters, it would be our wisest way tocontrive some method of getting out of this house; for the generousgentleman, instead of doing us any service, hath left us the wholereckoning to pay." Adams was going to answer, when their host came in,and, with a kind of jeering smile, said, "Well, masters! the squire hathnot sent his horses for you yet. Laud help me! how easily some folksmake promises!"--"How!" says Adams; "have you ever known him do anythingof this kind before?"--"Ay! marry have I," answered the host: "it is nobusiness of mine, you know, sir, to say anything to a gentleman to hisface; but now he is not here, I will assure you, he hath not his fellowwithin the three next market-towns. I own I could not help laughing whenI heard him offer you the living, for thereby hangs a good jest. Ithought he would have offered you my house next, for one is no more histo dispose of than the other." At these words Adams, blessing himself,declared, "He had never read of such a monster. But what vexes me most,"says he, "is, that he hath decoyed us into running up a long debt withyou, which we are not able to pay, for we have no money about us, and,what is worse, live at such a distance, that if you should trust us, Iam afraid you would lose your money for want of our finding anyconveniency of sending it."--"Trust you, master!" says the host, "that Iwill with all my heart. I honour the clergy too much to deny trustingone of them for such a trifle; besides, I like your fear of never payingme. I have lost many a debt in my lifetime, but was promised to be paidthem all in a very short time. I will score this reckoning for thenovelty of it. It is the first, I do assure you, of its kind. But whatsay you, master, shall we have t'other pot before we part? It will wastebut a little chalk more, and if you never pay me a shilling the losswill not ruin me." Adams liked the invitation very well, especially asit was delivered with so hearty an accent. He shook his host by thehand, and thanking him, said, "He would tarry another pot rather for thepleasure of such worthy company than for the liquor;" adding, "he wasglad to find some Christians left in the kingdom, for that he almostbegan to suspect that he was sojourning in a country inhabited only byJews and Turks."
The kind host produced the liquor, and Joseph with Fanny retired intothe garden, where, while they solaced themselves with amorous discourse,Adams sat down with his host; and, both filling their glasses, andlighting their pipes, they began that dialogue which the reader willfind in the next chapter.