Chapter xii.
Relates that Mr Jones continued his journey, contrary to the advice ofPartridge, with what happened on that occasion.
They now discovered a light at some distance, to the great pleasure ofJones, and to the no small terror of Partridge, who firmly believedhimself to be bewitched, and that this light was a Jack-with-a-lantern,or somewhat more mischievous.
But how were these fears increased, when, as they approached nearer tothis light (or lights as they now appeared), they heard a confusedsound of human voices; of singing, laughing, and hallowing, togetherwith a strange noise that seemed to proceed from some instruments; butcould hardly be allowed the name of music! indeed, to favour a littlethe opinion of Partridge, it might very well be called musicbewitched.
It is impossible to conceive a much greater degree of horror than whatnow seized on Partridge; the contagion of which had reached thepost-boy, who had been very attentive to many things that the otherhad uttered. He now, therefore, joined in petitioning Jones to return;saying he firmly believed what Partridge had just before said, thatthough the horses seemed to go on, they had not moved a step forwardsduring at least the last half-hour.
Jones could not help smiling in the midst of his vexation, at thefears of these poor fellows. "Either we advance," says he, "towardsthe lights, or the lights have advanced towards us; for we are now ata very little distance from them; but how can either of you be afraidof a set of people who appear only to be merry-making?"
"Merry-making, sir!" cries Partridge; "who could be merry-making atthis time of night, and in such a place, and such weather? They can benothing but ghosts or witches, or some evil spirits or other, that'scertain."
"Let them be what they will," cries Jones, "I am resolved to go up tothem, and enquire the way to Coventry. All witches, Partridge, are notsuch ill-natured hags as that we had the misfortune to meet withlast."
"O Lord, sir," cries Partridge, "there is no knowing what humour theywill be in; to be sure it is always best to be civil to them; but whatif we should meet with something worse than witches, with evil spiritsthemselves?----Pray, sir, be advised; pray, sir, do. If you had readso many terrible accounts as I have of these matters, you would not beso fool-hardy.----The Lord knows whither we have got already, orwhither we are going; for sure such darkness was never seen uponearth, and I question whether it can be darker in the other world."
Jones put forwards as fast as he could, notwithstanding all thesehints and cautions, and poor Partridge was obliged to follow; forthough he hardly dared to advance, he dared still less to stay behindby himself.
At length they arrived at the place whence the lights and differentnoises had issued. This Jones perceived to be no other than a barn,where a great number of men and women were assembled, and divertingthemselves with much apparent jollity.
Jones no sooner appeared before the great doors of the barn, whichwere open, than a masculine and very rough voice from within demanded,who was there?--To which Jones gently answered, a friend; andimmediately asked the road to Coventry.
"If you are a friend," cries another of the men in the barn, "you hadbetter alight till the storm is over" (for indeed it was now moreviolent than ever;) "you are very welcome to put up your horse; forthere is sufficient room for him at the end of the barn."
"You are very obliging," returned Jones; "and I will accept your offerfor a few minutes, whilst the rain continues; and here are two morewho will be glad of the same favour." This was accorded with moregood-will than it was accepted: for Partridge would rather havesubmitted to the utmost inclemency of the weather than have trusted tothe clemency of those whom he took for hobgoblins; and the poorpost-boy was now infected with the same apprehensions; but they wereboth obliged to follow the example of Jones; the one because he durstnot leave his horse, and the other because he feared nothing so muchas being left by himself.
Had this history been writ in the days of superstition, I should havehad too much compassion for the reader to have left him so long insuspense, whether Beelzebub or Satan was about actually to appear inperson, with all his hellish retinue; but as these doctrines are atpresent very unfortunate, and have but few, if any believers, I havenot been much aware of conveying any such terrors. To say truth, thewhole furniture of the infernal regions hath long been appropriated bythe managers of playhouses, who seem lately to have laid them by asrubbish, capable only of affecting the upper gallery; a place in whichfew of our readers ever sit.
However, though we do not suspect raising any great terror on thisoccasion, we have reason to fear some other apprehensions may herearise in our reader, into which we would not willingly betray him; Imean that we are going to take a voyage into fairy-land, and introducea set of beings into our history, which scarce any one was everchildish enough to believe, though many have been foolish enough tospend their time in writing and reading their adventures.
To prevent, therefore, any such suspicions, so prejudicial to thecredit of an historian, who professes to draw his materials fromnature only, we shall now proceed to acquaint the reader who thesepeople were, whose sudden appearance had struck such terrors intoPartridge, had more than half frightened the post-boy, and had alittle surprized even Mr Jones himself.
The people then assembled in this barn were no other than a company ofEgyptians, or, as they are vulgarly called, gypsies, and they were nowcelebrating the wedding of one of their society.
It is impossible to conceive a happier set of people than appearedhere to be met together. The utmost mirth, indeed, shewed itself inevery countenance; nor was their ball totally void of all order anddecorum. Perhaps it had more than a country assembly is sometimesconducted with: for these people are subject to a formal governmentand laws of their own, and all pay obedience to one great magistrate,whom they call their king.
Greater plenty, likewise, was nowhere to be seen than what flourishedin this barn. Here was indeed no nicety nor elegance, nor did the keenappetite of the guests require any. Here was good store of bacon,fowls, and mutton, to which every one present provided better saucehimself than the best and dearest French cook can prepare.
Aeneas is not described under more consternation in the temple ofJuno,
_Dum stupet obtutuque haeret defixus in uno_,
than was our heroe at what he saw in this barn. While he was lookingeverywhere round him with astonishment, a venerable person approachedhim with many friendly salutations, rather of too hearty a kind to becalled courtly. This was no other than the king of the gypsieshimself. He was very little distinguished in dress from his subjects,nor had he any regalia of majesty to support his dignity; and yetthere seemed (as Mr Jones said) to be somewhat in his air whichdenoted authority, and inspired the beholders with an idea of awe andrespect; though all this was perhaps imaginary in Jones; and the truthmay be, that such ideas are incident to power, and almost inseparablefrom it.
There was somewhat in the open countenance and courteous behaviour ofJones which, being accompanied with much comeliness of person, greatlyrecommended him at first sight to every beholder. These were, perhaps,a little heightened in the present instance, by that profound respectwhich he paid to the king of the gypsies, the moment he was acquaintedwith his dignity, and which was the sweeter to his gypseian majesty,as he was not used to receive such homage from any but his ownsubjects.
The king ordered a table to be spread with the choicest of theirprovisions for his accommodation; and, having placed himself at hisright hand, his majesty began to discourse with our heroe in thefollowing manner:--
"Me doubt not, sir, but you have often seen some of my people, who arewhat you call de parties detache: for dey go about everywhere; but mefancy you imagine not we be so considrable body as we be; and may beyou will be surprize more when you hear de gypsy be as orderly andwell govern people as any upon face of de earth.
"Me have honour, as me say, to be deir king, and no monarch can doboast of more dutiful subject, ne no more affectionate. How far medeserve deir good-will,
me no say; but dis me can say, dat me neverdesign anyting but to do dem good. Me sall no do boast of dat neider:for what can me do oderwise dan consider of de good of dose poorpeople who go about all day to give me always de best of what dey get.Dey love and honour me darefore, because me do love and take care ofdem; dat is all, me know no oder reason.
"About a tousand or two tousand year ago, me cannot tell to a year ortwo, as can neider write nor read, dere was a great what you call--avolution among de gypsy; for dere was de lord gypsy in dose days; anddese lord did quarrel vid one anoder about de place; but de king of degypsy did demolish dem all, and made all his subject equal vid eachoder; and since dat time dey have agree very well; for dey no tink ofbeing king, and may be it be better for dem as dey be; for me assureyou it be ver troublesome ting to be king, and always to do justice;me have often wish to be de private gypsy when me have been forced topunish my dear friend and relation; for dough we never put to death,our punishments be ver severe. Dey make de gypsy ashamed of demselves,and dat be ver terrible punishment; me ave scarce ever known de gypsyso punish do harm any more."
The king then proceeded to express some wonder that there was no suchpunishment as shame in other governments. Upon which Jones assured himto the contrary; for that there were many crimes for which shame wasinflicted by the English laws, and that it was indeed one consequenceof all punishment. "Dat be ver strange," said the king; "for me knowand hears good deal of your people, dough me no live among dem; and mehave often hear dat sham is de consequence and de cause too of many ofyour rewards. Are your rewards and punishments den de same ting?"
While his majesty was thus discoursing with Jones, a sudden uproararose in the barn, and as it seems upon this occasion:--the courtesyof these people had by degrees removed all the apprehensions ofPartridge, and he was prevailed upon not only to stuff himself withtheir food, but to taste some of their liquors, which by degreesentirely expelled all fear from his composition, and in its steadintroduced much more agreeable sensations.
A young female gypsy, more remarkable for her wit than her beauty, haddecoyed the honest fellow aside, pretending to tell his fortune. Now,when they were alone together in a remote part of the barn, whether itproceeded from the strong liquor, which is never so apt to inflameinordinate desire as after moderate fatigue; or whether the fair gypsyherself threw aside the delicacy and decency of her sex, and temptedthe youth Partridge with express solicitations; but they werediscovered in a very improper manner by the husband of the gypsy, who,from jealousy it seems, had kept a watchful eye over his wife, and haddogged her to the place, where he found her in the arms of hergallant.
To the great confusion of Jones, Partridge was now hurried before theking; who heard the accusation, and likewise the culprit's defence,which was indeed very trifling; for the poor fellow was confounded bythe plain evidence which appeared against him, and had very little tosay for himself. His majesty, then turning towards Jones, said, "Sir,you have hear what dey say; what punishment do you tink your mandeserve?"
Jones answered, "He was sorry for what had happened, and thatPartridge should make the husband all the amends in his power: hesaid, he had very little money about him at that time;" and, puttinghis hand into his pocket, offered the fellow a guinea. To which heimmediately answered, "He hoped his honour would not think of givinghim less than five."
This sum, after some altercation, was reduced to two; and Jones,having stipulated for the full forgiveness of both Partridge and thewife, was going to pay the money; when his majesty, restraining hishand, turned to the witness and asked him, "At what time he haddiscovered the criminals?" To which he answered, "That he had beendesired by the husband to watch the motions of his wife from her firstspeaking to the stranger, and that he had never lost sight of herafterwards till the crime had been committed." The king then asked,"if the husband was with him all that time in his lurking-place?" Towhich he answered in the affirmative. His Egyptian majesty thenaddressed himself to the husband as follows: "Me be sorry to see anygypsy dat have no more honour dan to sell de honour of his wife formoney. If you had de love for your wife, you would have prevented dismatter, and not endeavour to make her de whore dat you might discoverher. Me do order dat you have no money given you, for you deservepunishment, not reward; me do order derefore, dat you be de infamousgypsy, and do wear pair of horns upon your forehead for one month, anddat your wife be called de whore, and pointed at all dat time; for yoube de infamous gypsy, but she be no less de infamous whore."
The gypsies immediately proceeded to execute the sentence, and leftJones and Partridge alone with his majesty.
Jones greatly applauded the justice of the sentence: upon which theking, turning to him, said, "Me believe you be surprize: for mesuppose you have ver bad opinion of my people; me suppose you tink usall de tieves."
"I must confess, sir," said Jones, "I have not heard so favourable anaccount of them as they seem to deserve."
"Me vil tell you," said the king, "how the difference is between youand us. My people rob your people, and your people rob one anoder."
Jones afterwards proceeded very gravely to sing forth the happiness ofthose subjects who live under such a magistrate.
Indeed their happiness appears to have been so compleat, that we areaware lest some advocate for arbitrary power should hereafter quotethe case of those people, as an instance of the great advantages whichattend that government above all others.
And here we will make a concession, which would not perhaps have beenexpected from us, that no limited form of government is capable ofrising to the same degree of perfection, or of producing the samebenefits to society, with this. Mankind have never been so happy, aswhen the greatest part of the then known world was under the dominionof a single master; and this state of their felicity continued duringthe reigns of five successive princes.[*] This was the true aera ofthe golden age, and the only golden age which ever had any existence,unless in the warm imaginations of the poets, from the expulsion fromEden down to this day.
[*] Nerva, Trajan, Adrian, and the two Antonini.
In reality, I know but of one solid objection to absolute monarchy.The only defect in which excellent constitution seems to be, thedifficulty of finding any man adequate to the office of an absolutemonarch: for this indispensably requires three qualities verydifficult, as it appears from history, to be found in princelynatures: first, a sufficient quantity of moderation in the prince, tobe contented with all the power which is possible for him to have.2ndly, Enough of wisdom to know his own happiness. And, 3rdly,Goodness sufficient to support the happiness of others, when not onlycompatible with, but instrumental to his own.
Now if an absolute monarch, with all these great and rarequalifications, should be allowed capable of conferring the greatestgood on society; it must be surely granted, on the contrary, thatabsolute power, vested in the hands of one who is deficient in themall, is likely to be attended with no less a degree of evil.
In short, our own religion furnishes us with adequate ideas of theblessing, as well as curse, which may attend absolute power. Thepictures of heaven and of hell will place a very lively image of bothbefore our eyes; for though the prince of the latter can have no powerbut what he originally derives from the omnipotent Sovereign in theformer, yet it plainly appears from Scripture that absolute power inhis infernal dominions is granted to their diabolical ruler. This isindeed the only absolute power which can by Scripture be derived fromheaven. If, therefore, the several tyrannies upon earth can prove anytitle to a Divine authority, it must be derived from this originalgrant to the prince of darkness; and these subordinate deputationsmust consequently come immediately from him whose stamp they soexpressly bear.
To conclude, as the examples of all ages shew us that mankind ingeneral desire power only to do harm, and, when they obtain it, use itfor no other purpose; it is not consonant with even the least degreeof prudence to hazard an alteration, where our hopes are poorly keptin countenance by only two or three exceptions out of a thous
andinstances to alarm our fears. In this case it will be much wiser tosubmit to a few inconveniencies arising from the dispassionatedeafness of laws, than to remedy them by applying to the passionateopen ears of a tyrant.
Nor can the example of the gypsies, though possibly they may have longbeen happy under this form of government, be here urged; since we mustremember the very material respect in which they differ from all otherpeople, and to which perhaps this their happiness is entirely owing,namely, that they have no false honours among them, and that they lookon shame as the most grievous punishment in the world.