Chapter iii.
Which all who have no heart will think to contain much ado aboutnothing.
The reader will perhaps imagine the sensations which now arose inJones to have been so sweet and delicious, that they would rather tendto produce a chearful serenity in the mind, than any of thosedangerous effects which we have mentioned; but in fact, sensations ofthis kind, however delicious, are, at their first recognition, of avery tumultuous nature, and have very little of the opiate in them.They were, moreover, in the present case, embittered with certaincircumstances, which being mixed with sweeter ingredients, tendedaltogether to compose a draught that might be termed bitter-sweet;than which, as nothing can be more disagreeable to the palate, sonothing, in the metaphorical sense, can be so injurious to the mind.
For first, though he had sufficient foundation to flatter himself inwhat he had observed in Sophia, he was not yet free from doubt ofmisconstruing compassion, or at best, esteem, into a warmer regard. Hewas far from a sanguine assurance that Sophia had any such affectiontowards him, as might promise his inclinations that harvest, which, ifthey were encouraged and nursed, they would finally grow up torequire. Besides, if he could hope to find no bar to his happinessfrom the daughter, he thought himself certain of meeting an effectualbar in the father; who, though he was a country squire in hisdiversions, was perfectly a man of the world in whatever regarded hisfortune; had the most violent affection for his only daughter, and hadoften signified, in his cups, the pleasure he proposed in seeing hermarried to one of the richest men in the county. Jones was not so vainand senseless a coxcomb as to expect, from any regard which Westernhad professed for him, that he would ever be induced to lay asidethese views of advancing his daughter. He well knew that fortune isgenerally the principal, if not the sole, consideration, whichoperates on the best of parents in these matters: for friendship makesus warmly espouse the interest of others; but it is very cold to thegratification of their passions. Indeed, to feel the happiness whichmay result from this, it is necessary we should possess the passionourselves. As he had therefore no hopes of obtaining her father'sconsent; so he thought to endeavour to succeed without it, and by suchmeans to frustrate the great point of Mr Western's life, was to make avery ill use of his hospitality, and a very ungrateful return to themany little favours received (however roughly) at his hands. If he sawsuch a consequence with horror and disdain, how much more was heshocked with what regarded Mr Allworthy; to whom, as he had more thanfilial obligations, so had he for him more than filial piety! He knewthe nature of that good man to be so averse to any baseness ortreachery, that the least attempt of such a kind would make the sightof the guilty person for ever odious to his eyes, and his name adetestable sound in his ears. The appearance of such unsurmountabledifficulties was sufficient to have inspired him with despair, howeverardent his wishes had been; but even these were contruoled bycompassion for another woman. The idea of lovely Molly now intrudeditself before him. He had sworn eternal constancy in her arms, and shehad as often vowed never to out-live his deserting her. He now saw herin all the most shocking postures of death; nay, he considered all themiseries of prostitution to which she would be liable, and of which hewould be doubly the occasion; first by seducing, and then by desertingher; for he well knew the hatred which all her neighbours, and evenher own sisters, bore her, and how ready they would all be to tear herto pieces. Indeed, he had exposed her to more envy than shame, orrather to the latter by means of the former: for many women abused herfor being a whore, while they envied her her lover, and her finery,and would have been themselves glad to have purchased these at thesame rate. The ruin, therefore, of the poor girl must, he foresaw,unavoidably attend his deserting her; and this thought stung him tothe soul. Poverty and distress seemed to him to give none a right ofaggravating those misfortunes. The meanness of her condition did notrepresent her misery as of little consequence in his eyes, nor did itappear to justify, or even to palliate, his guilt, in bringing thatmisery upon her. But why do I mention justification? His own heartwould not suffer him to destroy a human creature who, he thought,loved him, and had to that love sacrificed her innocence. His own goodheart pleaded her cause; not as a cold venal advocate, but as oneinterested in the event, and which must itself deeply share in all theagonies its owner brought on another.
When this powerful advocate had sufficiently raised the pity of Jones,by painting poor Molly in all the circumstances of wretchedness; itartfully called in the assistance of another passion, and representedthe girl in all the amiable colours of youth, health, and beauty; asone greatly the object of desire, and much more so, at least to a goodmind, from being, at the same time, the object of compassion.
Amidst these thoughts, poor Jones passed a long sleepless night, andin the morning the result of the whole was to abide by Molly, and tothink no more of Sophia.
In this virtuous resolution he continued all the next day till theevening, cherishing the idea of Molly, and driving Sophia from histhoughts; but in the fatal evening, a very trifling accident set allhis passions again on float, and worked so total a change in his mind,that we think it decent to communicate it in a fresh chapter.