"Joseph Andrews," Fielding's first novel, was published in
1742, and was intended to be a satire on Richardson's "Pamela"
(see Vol. VII), which appeared in 1740. He described it as
"written in the manner of Cervantes," and in Parson Adams
there is the same quaint blending of the humorous and the
pathetic as in the Knight of La Mancha. Although such
characters as Lady Booby and Mrs. Slipslop are admittedly
ridiculous, Parson Adams remains an admirable study of a
simple-minded clergyman of the eighteenth century.
_I.--The Virtues of Joseph Andrews_
Mr. Joseph Andrews was esteemed to be the only son of Gaffer and Gammer
Andrews, and brother to the illustrious Pamela.
At ten years old (by which time his education was advanced to writing
and reading) he was bound an apprentice to Sir Thomas Booby, an uncle of
Mr. Booby's by the father's side. From the stable of Sir Thomas he was
preferred to attend as foot-boy on Lady Booby, to go on her errands,
stand behind her chair, wait at her tea-table, and carry her prayer-book
to church; at which place he behaved so well in every respect at divine
service that it recommended him to the notice of Mr. Abraham Adams, the
curate, who took an opportunity one day to ask the young man several
questions concerning religion, with his answers to which he was
wonderfully pleased.
Mr. Abraham Adams was an excellent scholar, a man of good sense and good
nature, but at the same time entirely ignorant of the ways of the world.
At the age of fifty he was provided with a handsome income of twenty-
three pounds a year, which, however, he could not make any great figure
with, because he was a little encumbered with a wife and six children.
Adams had no nearer access to Sir Thomas or my lady than through Mrs.
Slipslop, the waiting-gentlewoman, for Sir Thomas was too apt to
estimate men merely by their dress or fortune, and my lady was a woman
of gaiety, who never spoke of any of her country neighbours by any other
appellation than that of the brutes.
Mrs. Slipslop, being herself the daughter of a curate, preserved some
respect for Adams; she would frequently dispute with him, and was a
mighty affecter of hard words, which she used in such a manner that the
parson was frequently at some loss to guess her meaning.
Adams was so much impressed by the industry and application he saw in
young Andrews that one day he mentioned the case to Mrs. Slipslop,
desiring her to recommend him to my lady as a youth very susceptible of
learning, and one whose instruction in Latin he would himself undertake,
by which means he might be qualified for a higher station than that of
footman. He therefore desired that the boy might be left behind under
his care when Sir Thomas and my lady went to London.
"La, Mr. Adams," said Mrs. Slipslop, "do you think my lady will suffer
any preambles about any such matter? She is going to London very
concisely, and I am confidous would not leave Joey behind on any
account, for he is one of the genteelest young fellows you may see in a
summer's day; and I am confidous she would as soon think of parting with
a pair of her grey mares, for she values herself on one as much as the
other. And why is Latin more necessitous for a footman than a gentleman?
I am confidous my lady would be angry with me for mentioning it, and I
shall draw myself into no such delemy."
So young Andrews went to London in attendance on Lady Booby, and became
acquainted with the brethren of his profession. They could not, however,
teach him to game, swear, drink, nor any other genteel vice the town
abounded with. He applied most of his leisure hours to music, in which
he greatly improved himself, so that he led the opinion of all the other
footmen at an opera. Though his morals remain entirely uncorrupted, he
was at the same time smarter and genteeler than any of the beaus in town
either in or out of livery.
At this time an accident happened, and this was no other than the death
of Sir Thomas Booby, who left his disconsolate lady closely confined to
her house. During the first six days the poor lady admitted none but
Mrs. Slipslop and three female friends, who made a party at cards; but
on the seventh she ordered Joey, whom we shall hereafter call Joseph, to
bring up her teakettle.
Lady Booby's affection for her footman had for some time been a matter
of gossip in the town, but it is certain that her innocent freedoms had
made no impression on young Andrews.
Now, however, he thought my lady had become distracted with grief at her
husband's death, so strange was her conduct, and wrote to his sister
Pamela on the subject.
If madam be mad, I shall not care for staying long in the
family, so I heartily wish you could get me a place at some
neighbouring gentleman's. I fancy I shall be discharged very
soon, and the moment I am I shall return to my old master's
country seat, if it be only to see Parson Adams, who is the
best man in the world. London is a bad place, and there is so
little good fellowship that the next-door neighbours don't
know one another. Your loving brother,
JOSEPH ANDREWS.
The sending of this letter was quickly followed by the discharge of the
writer. To Lady Booby's open declarations of love, Joseph replied that a
lady having no virtue was not a reason against his having any.
"I am out of patience!" cries the lady, "did ever mortal hear of a man's
virtue? Will magistrates who punish lewdness, or parsons who preach
against it, make any scruple of committing it? And can a boy have the
confidence to talk of his virtue?"
"Madam," says Joseph, "that boy is the brother of Pamela, and would be
ashamed that the chastity of his family, which is preserved in her,
should be stained in him. If there are such men as your ladyship
mentions, I am sorry for it, and I wish they had an opportunity of
reading my sister Pamela's letters; nor do I doubt but such an example
would amend them."
"You impudent villain!" cries the lady in a rage. "Get out of my sight,
and leave the house this night!"
Joseph having received what wages were due, and having been stripped of
his livery, took a melancholy leave of his fellow-servants and set out
at seven in the evening.
_II.--Adventures on the Road_
It may be wondered why Joseph made such extraordinary haste to get out
of London, and why, instead of proceeding to the habitation of his
father and mother, or to his beloved sister Pamela, he chose rather to
set out full speed to Lady Booby's country seat, which he had left on
his journey to town.
Be it known then, that in the same parish where this seat stood there
lived a young girl whom Joseph longed more impatiently to see than his
parents or his sister. She was a poor girl, formerly bred up in Sir
Thomas's house, and, discarded by Mrs. Slipslop on account of her
extraordinary beauty, was now a servant to a farmer in the parish.
Fanny was two years younger than our hero, and had been always beloved
by him, and returned his affection. They had been acquainted from their
infancy, and Mr. Adams had, with much ado, prevented them from marrying,
and persuaded them to wait till a few years' service and thrift had a
little improved their experience, and enabled them to live comfortably
together.
They followed this good man's advice, as, indeed, his word was little
less than a law in his parish, for during twenty-five years he had shown
that he had the good of his parishioners entirely at heart, so that they
consulted him on every occasion, and very seldom acted contrary to his
opinion.
Honest Joseph therefore set out on his travels without delay, in order
that he might once more look upon his Fanny, from whom he had been
absent for twelve months.
But on the road he was attacked by robbers, and, having been left
wounded in a ditch, was mercifully taken to an inn by some later
travellers.
It was at this same inn that, to the great surprise on both sides, Mr.
Abraham Adams found Joseph.
The parson informed his young friend, who was still sick in bed, that
the occasion of the journey he was making to London was to publish three
volumes of sermons, being encouraged, as he said, by an advertisement
lately set forth by the Society of Booksellers; but, though he imagined
he should get a considerable sum of money on this occasion, which his
family were in urgent need of, he protested he would not leave Joseph in
his present penniless condition. Finally, he told him he had nine
shillings and threepence-halfpenny in his pocket, which he was welcome
to use as he pleased.
This goodness of Parson Adams brought tears into Joseph's eyes; he had
now a second reason to desire life, that he might show his gratitude to
such a friend.
Before pursuing his journey Adams made the acquaintance of another
clergyman named Barnabas at the inn, who in his turn, hearing that Adams
was proposing to publish sermons, introduced him to a stranger who he
said was a bookseller.
Adams, saluting the stranger, answered Barnabas that he was very much
obliged to him; that nothing could be more convenient, for he had no
other business to the great city, and was heartily desirous of returning
with the young man, who was just recovered of his misfortune. To induce
the bookseller to be as expeditious as possible, he assured them their
meeting was extremely lucky to himself, for that he had the most
pressing occasion for money at that time, his own being almost spent.
"So that nothing," says he, "could be so opportune as my making an
immediate bargain with you."
"Sir, sermons are mere drugs," said the stranger. "The trade is so
vastly stocked with them that really, unless they come out with the name
of Whitefield or Wesley, or some other such great man, as a bishop, or
those sort of people, I don't care to touch. However, I will, if you
please, take the manuscript with me to town, and send you my opinion of
it in a very short time."
When, however, Adams began to describe the nature of his sermons the
bookseller drew back, on the ground that the clergy would be certain to
cry down such a book.
An accident prevented Mr. Adams from pursuing a market for his sermons
any further, which he would have done in spite of the advice of Barnabas
and the bookseller. This accident was, that those sermons which the
parson was travelling to London to publish were left behind; what he had
mistaken for them in the saddle-bags were three shirts, which Mrs.
Adams, who thought her husband would need shirts rather than sermons on
his journey, had carefully provided for him.
Joseph, concerned at the disappointment to his friend, begged him to
pursue his journey all the same, and promised he would himself return
with the books to him with the utmost expedition.
"No, thank you, child," answered Adams; "it shall not be so. What would
it avail me to tarry in the great city unless I had my discourses with
me? No; as this accident has happened, I am resolved to return back to
my cure, together with you; which, indeed, my inclination sufficiently
leads me to."
Mr. Adams, whose credit was good wherever he was known, having borrowed
a guinea from a servant belonging to a coach-and-six, who had been
formerly one of his parishioners, discharged the bill for Joseph and
himself, and the two travellers set off.
_III.--More Adventures_
Adams and Joseph Andrews being for a time separated on the road, through
the former's absent-mindedness, it fell to the lot of the parson to
hasten to the assistance of a damsel who in a lonely place was being
attacked by some ruffian.
Adams was as strong as he was brave, and having rescued the maiden, took
her under his protection. It was too dark for either to identify the
other, but on Mr. Adams ejaculating the name of Joseph Andrews, for
whose safety he was anxious, his companion recognised his voice, and the
parson was quickly informed that it was Fanny who was by his side.
The fact was the poor girl had heard of Joseph's misfortune from the
servants of a coach which had stopped at the inn while the poor youth
was confined to his bed; and she had that instant abandoned the cow she
was milking, and taking with her a little bundle of clothes under her
arm, and all the money she was worth in her own purse, immediately set
forward in pursuit of one whom she loved with inexpressible violence,
though with the purest and most delicate passion.
Fanny was now in the nineteenth year of her age; she was tall and
delicately shaped. Her hair was a chestnut brown; her complexion was
fair; and, to conclude all, she had a natural gentility which surprised
all who beheld her.
Can it be wondered that on the following day, when Adams and the damsel
overtook Andrews at a wayside ale-house, the youth imprinted numberless
kisses on her lips, while Parson Adams danced about the room in a
rapture of joy?
It was so late when our travellers left the ale-house that they had not
travelled many miles before night overtook them. They moved forwards
where the nearest light presented itself; and having crossed a common
field, they came to a meadow where they seemed to be at a very little
distance from the light, when, to their grief, they arrived at the banks
of a river. Adams declared he could swim, but Joseph answered, if they
walked along its banks they might be certain of soon finding a bridge,
especially as, by the number of lights, they might be assured a parish
was near.
"That's true, indeed," said Adams. "I did not think of that."
Accordingly, Joseph's advice being taken, they passed over two meadows,
and came to a little orchard which led them to a house. Fanny begged of
Joseph to knock at the door, assuring him she was so weary that she
could hardly stand on her feet; and the door being immediately opened, a
plain kind of man appeared at it. Adams acquainted him that they had a
young woman with them, who was so tired with her journey that he should
be much obliged to him if he would suffer her to come in and rest
herself.
The man, who saw Fanny by the light of the candle which he held in his
hand, perceiving her innocent and modest look, and having no
apprehensions from the civil behaviour of Adams, presently answered that
the young woman was very welcome to rest herself in his house, and so
were her company. He then ushered them into a very decent room, where
his wife was sitting at a table; she immediately rose up, and assisted
them in setting forth chairs, and desired them to sit down.
They now sat cheerfully round the fire till the master of the house,
having surveyed his guests, and conceiving that the cassock which
appeared under Adams's greatcoat, and the shabby livery of Joseph
Andrews, did not well suit the familiarity between them, began to
entertain some suspicions not much to their advantage. Addressing
himself, therefore, to Adams, he said he perceived he was a clergyman by
his dress, and supposed that honest man was his footman.
"Sir," answered Adams, "I am a clergyman, at your service; but as to
that young man, whom you have rightly termed honest, he is at present in
nobody's service; he never lived in any other family than that of Lady
Booby, from whence he was discharged; I assure you, for no crime."
The modest behaviour of Joseph, with the character which Adams gave of
him, entirely cured a jealousy which had lately been in the gentleman's
mind that Fanny was the daughter of some person of fashion and that
Joseph had run away with her, and Adams was concerned in the plot.
Having had a full account from Adams of Joseph's history he became
enamoured of his guests, drank their healths with great cheerfulness;
and, at the parson's request, told something of his own life.
"Sir," says Adams, at the conclusion of the history, "fortune has, I
think, paid you all her debts in this sweet retirement."
"Sir," replied the gentleman, whose name was Wilson, "I have the best of
wives and three pretty children; but within three years of my arrival
here I lost my eldest son. If he had died I could have borne the loss
with patience; but, alas, he was stolen away from my door by some wicked
travelling people, whom they call gypsies; nor could I ever, with the
most diligent search, recover him. Poor child, he had the sweetest look!
The exact picture of his mother!" Mr. Wilson went on to say that he
should know his son amongst ten thousand, for he had a mark on his
breast of a strawberry.
_IV.--Joseph Finds his Father_
Our travellers, having well refreshed themselves at Mr. Wilson's house,
renewed their journey next morning with great alacrity, and two days
later reached the parish they were seeking.
The people flocked about Parson Adams like children round a parent; and
the parson, on his side, shook every one by the hand. Nor did Joseph and
Fanny want a hearty welcome from all who saw them. Adams carried his
fellow-travellers home to his house, where he insisted on their
partaking whatever his wife could provide, and on the very next Sunday
he published, for the first time, the banns of marriage between Joseph
Andrews and Fanny Goodwill.
Lady Booby, who was now at her country seat again, was furious when she
heard in church these banns called, and at once sent for Mr. Adams, and
rated him soundly.
"It is my orders that you publish these banns no more, and if you dare,
I will recommend it to your master, the rector, to discard you from his
service," says my lady. "The fellow Andrews is a vagabond, and shall not
settle here and bring a nest of beggars into the parish."
"Madam," answered Adams, "I know not what your ladyship means by the
terms 'master' and 'service.' I am in the service of a Master who will
never discard me for doing my duty; and if the rector thinks proper to
turn me from my cure, God will provide me, I hope, another."
The malice of Lady Booby did not stop at this; she endeavoured to get
Joseph and Fanny convicted on a trumped-up charge of trespass. In this
base wickedness she was defeated by her nephew, young Squire Booby, who
had married the virtuous Pamela, Joseph's sister; and at once stopped
the proceedings. More than that, he carried off Andrews to Lady Booby's,
and on his arrival, said, "Madam, as I have married a virtuous and
worthy woman, I am resolved to own her relations, and show them all
respect; I shall think myself, therefore, infinitely obliged to all mine
who will do the same. It is true her brother has been your servant, but
he has now become my brother."
Lady Booby answered that she would be pleased to entertain Joseph
Andrews; but when the squire went on to speak of Fanny, his aunt put her
foot down resolutely against her civility to the young woman.
And now both Pamela and her husband were inclined to urge Joseph to
break off the engagement with Fanny, but the young man would not give
way, and in this he was supported by Mr. Adams.
The arrival of a peddler in the parish, who had shown some civility to
Adams and Andrews when they were travelling on the road, threatened the
marriage prospect much more dangerously for a time.
According to the pedaler, who was a man of some education and birth,
Fanny had been stolen away from her home when an infant, and sold for
three guineas to Sir Thomas Booby; the name of her family was Andrews,
and they had a daughter of a very strange name, Pamela. This story he
had received from a dying woman when he had been a drummer in an Irish
regiment.
The only thing now to be done was to send for old Mr. Andrews and his
wife; and, in the meantime, the pedal was bidden to Booby Hall to tell
the whole story again. All who heard him were well satisfied of the
truth, except Pamela, who imagined as neither of her parents had ever
mentioned such an incident to her, it must be false; and except Lady
Booby, who suspected the falsehood of the story from her ardent desire
that it should be true; and Joseph, who feared its truth, from his
earnest wishes that it might prove false.
On the following morning news came of the arrival of old Mr. Andrews and
his wife. Mr. Andrews assured Mr. Booby that he had never lost a
daughter by gypsies, nor ever had any other children than Joseph and
Pamela. But old Mrs. Andrews, running to Fanny, embraced her, crying
out, "She is--she is my child!"
The company were all amazed at this disagreement, until the old woman
explained the mystery. During her husband's absence at Gibraltar, when
he was a sergeant in the army, a party of gypsies had stolen the little
girl who had been born to him, and left a small male child in her place.
So she had brought up the boy as her own.
"Well," says Gaffer Andrews, "you have proved, I think, very plainly,
that this girl does not belong to us; I hope you are certain the boy is
ours."
Then it turned out that Joseph had a strawberry mark on his left breast,
and this made the peddler, who knew all about Mr. Wilson's loss,
satisfied that Joseph was no other than Mr. Wilson's son.
So Mr. Wilson had to be sent for, who, on his arrival, no sooner saw the
mark than he cried out with tears of joy, "I have discovered my son!"
The banns having been duly called, there was now nothing to prevent the
wedding, which, having taken place, Joseph and his wife settled down in
Mr. Wilson's parish, Mr. Booby having given Fanny a fortune of £2,000.
He also presented Mr. Adams with a living of £130 a year.
* * * * *