# The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and his Friend, Mr. Abraham Abrams/Book III, Chapter VII

CHAPTER VII.
_A scene of roasting, very nicely adapted to the present taste
and times._
They arrived at the squire's house just as his dinner was ready. A
little dispute arose on the account of Fanny, whom the squire, who was a
bachelor, was desirous to place at his own table; but she would not
consent, nor would Mr Adams permit her to be parted from Joseph; so that
she was at length with him consigned over to the kitchen, where the
servants were ordered to make him drunk; a favour which was likewise
intended for Adams; which design being executed, the squire thought he
should easily accomplish what he had when he first saw her intended to
perpetrate with Fanny.
It may not be improper, before we proceed farther, to open a little the
character of this gentleman, and that of his friends. The master of this
house, then, was a man of a very considerable fortune; a bachelor, as we
have said, and about forty years of age: he had been educated (if we may
use the expression) in the country, and at his own home, under the care
of his mother, and a tutor who had orders never to correct him, nor to
compel him to learn more than he liked, which it seems was very little,
and that only in his childhood; for from the age of fifteen he addicted
himself entirely to hunting and other rural amusements, for which his
mother took care to equip him with horses, hounds, and all other
necessaries; and his tutor, endeavouring to ingratiate himself with his
young pupil, who would, he knew, be able handsomely to provide for him,
became his companion, not only at these exercises, but likewise over a
bottle, which the young squire had a very early relish for. At the age
of twenty his mother began to think she had not fulfilled the duty of a
parent; she therefore resolved to persuade her son, if possible, to that
which she imagined would well supply all that he might have learned at a
public school or university--this is what they commonly call travelling;
which, with the help of the tutor, who was fixed on to attend him, she
easily succeeded in. He made in three years the tour of Europe, as they
term it, and returned home well furnished with French clothes, phrases,
and servants, with a hearty contempt for his own country; especially
what had any savour of the plain spirit and honesty of our ancestors.
His mother greatly applauded herself at his return. And now, being
master of his own fortune, he soon procured himself a seat in
Parliament, and was in the common opinion one of the finest gentlemen of
his age: but what distinguished him chiefly was a strange delight which
he took in everything which is ridiculous, odious, and absurd in his own
species; so that he never chose a companion without one or more of these
ingredients, and those who were marked by nature in the most eminent
degree with them were most his favourites. If he ever found a man who
either had not, or endeavoured to conceal, these imperfections, he took
great pleasure in inventing methods of forcing him into absurdities
which were not natural to him, or in drawing forth and exposing those
that were; for which purpose he was always provided with a set of
fellows, whom we have before called curs, and who did, indeed, no great
honour to the canine kind; their business was to hunt out and display
everything that had any savour of the above-mentioned qualities, and
especially in the gravest and best characters; but if they failed in
their search, they were to turn even virtue and wisdom themselves into
ridicule, for the diversion of their master and feeder. The gentlemen of
curlike disposition who were now at his house, and whom he had brought
with him from London, were, an old half-pay officer, a player, a dull
poet, a quack-doctor, a scraping fiddler, and a lame German
dancing-master.
As soon as dinner was served, while Mr Adams was saying grace, the
captain conveyed his chair from behind him; so that when he endeavoured
to seat himself he fell down on the ground, and this completed joke the
first, to the great entertainment of the whole company. The second joke
was performed by the poet, who sat next him on the other side, and took
an opportunity, while poor Adams was respectfully drinking to the master
of the house, to overturn a plate of soup into his breeches; which, with
the many apologies he made, and the parson's gentle answers, caused much
mirth in the company. Joke the third was served up by one of the
waiting-men, who had been ordered to convey a quantity of gin into Mr
Adams's ale, which he declaring to be the best liquor he ever drank, but
rather too rich of the malt, contributed again to their laughter. Mr
Adams, from whom we had most of this relation, could not recollect all
the jests of this kind practised on him, which the inoffensive
disposition of his own heart made him slow in discovering; and indeed,
had it not been for the information which we received from a servant of
the family, this part of our history, which we take to be none of the
least curious, must have been deplorably imperfect; though we must own
it probable that some more jokes were (as they call it) cracked during
their dinner; but we have by no means been able to come at the knowledge
of them. When dinner was removed, the poet began to repeat some verses,
which, he said, were made extempore. The following is a copy of them,
procured with the greatest difficulty:--
[A] All hounds that will hunt fox or other vermin will hunt a piece of
At which words the bard whipt off the player's wig, and received the
approbation of the company, rather perhaps for the dexterity of his hand
than his head. The player, instead of retorting the jest on the poet,
began to display his talents on the same subject. He repeated many
scraps of wit out of plays, reflecting on the whole body of the clergy,
which were received with great acclamations by all present. It was now
the dancing-master's turn to exhibit his talents; he therefore,
addressing himself to Adams in broken English, told him, "He was a man
ver well made for de dance, and he suppose by his walk dat he had learn
of some great master." He said, "It was ver pretty quality in clergyman
to dance;" and concluded with desiring him to dance a minuet, telling
him, "his cassock would serve for petticoats; and that he would himself
be his partner." At which words, without waiting for an answer, he
pulled out his gloves, and the fiddler was preparing his fiddle. The
company all offered the dancing-master wagers that the parson out-danced
him, which he refused, saying "he believed so too, for he had never seen
any man in his life who looked de dance so well as de gentleman:" he
then stepped forwards to take Adams by the hand, which the latter
hastily withdrew, and, at the same time clenching his fist, advised him
not to carry the jest too far, for he would not endure being put upon.
The dancing-master no sooner saw the fist than he prudently retired out
of its reach, and stood aloof, mimicking Adams, whose eyes were fixed on
him, not guessing what he was at, but to avoid his laying hold on him,
which he had once attempted. In the meanwhile, the captain, perceiving
an opportunity, pinned a cracker or devil to the cassock, and then
lighted it with their little smoking-candle. Adams, being a stranger to
this sport, and believing he had been blown up in reality, started from
his chair, and jumped about the room, to the infinite joy of the
beholders, who declared he was the best dancer in the universe. As soon
as the devil had done tormenting him, and he had a little recovered his
confusion, he returned to the table, standing up in the posture of one
who intended to make a speech. They all cried out, "Hear him, hear him;"
and he then spoke in the following manner: "Sir, I am sorry to see one
to whom Providence hath been so bountiful in bestowing his favours make
so ill and ungrateful a return for them; for, though you have not
insulted me yourself, it is visible you have delighted in those that do
it, nor have once discouraged the many rudenesses which have been shown
towards me; indeed, towards yourself, if you rightly understood them;
for I am your guest, and by the laws of hospitality entitled to your
protection. One gentleman had thought proper to produce some poetry upon
me, of which I shall only say, that I had rather be the subject than the
composer. He hath pleased to treat me with disrespect as a parson. I
apprehend my order is not the subject of scorn, nor that I can become
so, unless by being a disgrace to it, which I hope poverty will never be
called. Another gentleman, indeed, hath repeated some sentences, where
the order itself is mentioned with contempt. He says they are taken from
plays. I am sure such plays are a scandal to the government which
permits them, and cursed will be the nation where they are represented.
How others have treated me I need not observe; they themselves, when
they reflect, must allow the behaviour to be as improper to my years as
to my cloth. You found me, sir, travelling with two of my parishioners
(I omit your hounds falling on me; for I have quite forgiven it, whether
it proceeded from the wantonness or negligence of the huntsman): my
appearance might very well persuade you that your invitation was an act
of charity, though in reality we were well provided; yes, sir, if we had
had an hundred miles to travel, we had sufficient to bear our expenses
in a noble manner." (At which words he produced the half-guinea which
was found in the basket.) "I do not show you this out of ostentation of
riches, but to convince you I speak truth. Your seating me at your table
was an honour which I did not ambitiously affect. When I was here, I
endeavoured to behave towards you with the utmost respect; if I have
failed, it was not with design; nor could I, certainly, so far be guilty
as to deserve the insults I have suffered. If they were meant,
therefore, either to my order or my poverty (and you see I am not very
poor), the shame doth not lie at my door, and I heartily pray that the
sin may be averted from yours." He thus finished, and received a general
clap from the whole company. Then the gentleman of the house told him,
"He was sorry for what had happened; that he could not accuse him of any
share in it; that the verses were, as himself had well observed, so bad,
that he might easily answer them; and for the serpent, it was
undoubtedly a very great affront done him by the dancing-master, for
which, if he well thrashed him, as he deserved, he should be very much
pleased to see it" (in which, probably, he spoke truth). Adams answered,
"Whoever had done it, it was not his profession to punish him that way;
but for the person whom he had accused, I am a witness," says he, "of
his innocence; for I had my eye on him all the while. Whoever he was,
God forgive him, and bestow on him a little more sense as well as
humanity." The captain answered with a surly look and accent, "That he
hoped he did not mean to reflect upon him; d--n him, he had as much
imanity as another, and, if any man said he had not, he would convince
him of his mistake by cutting his throat." Adams, smiling, said, "He
believed he had spoke right by accident." To which the captain returned,
"What do you mean by my speaking right? If you was not a parson, I would
not take these words; but your gown protects you. If any man who wears a
sword had said so much, I had pulled him by the nose before this." Adams
replied, "If he attempted any rudeness to his person, he would not find
any protection for himself in his gown;" and, clenching his fist,
declared "he had thrashed many a stouter man." The gentleman did all he
could to encourage this warlike disposition in Adams, and was in hopes
to have produced a battle, but he was disappointed; for the captain made
no other answer than, "It is very well you are a parson;" and so,
drinking off a bumper to old mother Church, ended the dispute.
Then the doctor, who had hitherto been silent, and who was the gravest
but most mischievous dog of all, in a very pompous speech highly
applauded what Adams had said, and as much discommended the behaviour
to him. He proceeded to encomiums on the Church and poverty; and,
lastly, recommended forgiveness of what had passed to Adams, who
immediately answered, "That everything was forgiven;" and in the warmth
of his goodness he filled a bumper of strong beer (a liquor he
preferred to wine), and drank a health to the whole company, shaking
the captain and the poet heartily by the hand, and addressing himself
with great respect to the doctor; who, indeed, had not laughed
outwardly at anything that past, as he had a perfect command of his
muscles, and could laugh inwardly without betraying the least symptoms
in his countenance. The doctor now began a second formal speech, in
which he declaimed against all levity of conversation, and what is
usually called mirth. He said, "There were amusements fitted for
persons of all ages and degrees, from the rattle to the discussing a
point of philosophy; and that men discovered themselves in nothing more
than in the choice of their amusements; for," says he, "as it must
greatly raise our expectation of the future conduct in life of boys
whom in their tender years we perceive, instead of taw or balls, or
other childish playthings, to chuse, at their leisure hours, to
exercise their genius in contentions of wit, learning, and such like;
so must it inspire one with equal contempt of a man, if we should
discover him playing at taw or other childish play." Adams highly
commended the doctor's opinion, and said, "He had often wondered at
some passages in ancient authors, where Scipio, Laelius, and other great
men were represented to have passed many hours in amusements of the
most trifling kind." The doctor replied, "He had by him an old Greek
manuscript where a favourite diversion of Socrates was recorded." "Ay!"
says the parson eagerly; "I should be most infinitely obliged to you
for the favour of perusing it." The doctor promised to send it him, and
farther said, "That he believed he could describe it. I think," says
he, "as near as I can remember, it was this: there was a throne
erected, on one side of which sat a king and on the other a queen, with
their guards and attendants ranged on both sides; to them was
introduced an ambassador, which part Socrates always used to perform
himself; and when he was led up to the footsteps of the throne he
addressed himself to the monarchs in some grave speech, full of virtue,
and goodness, and morality, and such like. After which, he was seated
between the king and queen, and royally entertained. This I think was
the chief part. Perhaps I may have forgot some particulars; for it is
long since I read it." Adams said, "It was, indeed, a diversion worthy
the relaxation of so great a man; and thought something resembling it
should be instituted among our great men, instead of cards and other
idle pastime, in which, he was informed, they trifled away too much of
their lives." He added, "The Christian religion was a nobler subject
for these speeches than any Socrates could have invented." The
gentleman of the house approved what Mr Adams said, and declared "he
was resolved to perform the ceremony this very evening." To which the
doctor objected, as no one was prepared with a speech, "unless," said
he (turning to Adams with a gravity of countenance which would have
deceived a more knowing man), "you have a sermon about you, doctor."
"Sir," said Adams, "I never travel without one, for fear of what may
happen." He was easily prevailed on by his worthy friend, as he now
called the doctor, to undertake the part of the ambassador; so that the
gentleman sent immediate orders to have the throne erected, which was
performed before they had drank two bottles; and, perhaps, the reader
will hereafter have no great reason to admire the nimbleness of the
servants. Indeed, to confess the truth, the throne was no more than
this: there was a great tub of water provided, on each side of which
were placed two stools raised higher than the surface of the tub, and
over the whole was laid a blanket; on these stools were placed the king
and queen, namely, the master of the house and the captain. And now the
ambassador was introduced between the poet and the doctor; who, having
read his sermon, to the great entertainment of all present, was led up
to his place and seated between their majesties. They immediately rose
up, when the blanket, wanting its supports at either end, gave way, and
soused Adams over head and ears in the water. The captain made his
escape, but, unluckily, the gentleman himself not being as nimble as he
ought, Adams caught hold of him before he descended from his throne,
and pulled him in with him, to the entire secret satisfaction of all
the company. Adams, after ducking the squire twice or thrice, leapt out
of the tub, and looked sharp for the doctor, whom he would certainly
have conveyed to the same place of honour; but he had wisely withdrawn:
he then searched for his crabstick, and having found that, as well as
his fellow travellers, he declared he would not stay a moment longer in
such a house. He then departed, without taking leave of his host, whom
he had exacted a more severe revenge on than he intended; for, as he
did not use sufficient care to dry himself in time, he caught a cold by
the accident which threw him into a fever that had like to have cost
him his life.