The Surgeon drew his Knowledge from those inestimable Fountains, called the Attorney's Pocket-Companion, and Mr. Jacob's Law-Tables; Barnabas trusted entirely to Wood's Institutes. It happened on this Occasion, as was pretty frequently the Case, that these two learned Men differed about the sufficiency of Evidence: the Doctor being of opinion, that the Maid's Oath would convict the Prisoner without producing the Gold; the Parson, è contra, totis viribus. To display their Parts therefore before the Justice and the Parish was the sole Motive, which we can discover, to this Zeal, which both of them pretended to be for publick Justice.

O Vanity! How little is thy Force acknowledged, or thy Operations discerned? How wantonly dost thou deceive Mankind under different Disguises? Sometimes thou dost wear the Face of Pity, sometimes of Generosity: nay, thou hast the Assurance even to put on those glorious Ornaments which belong only to heroick Virtue. Thou odious, deformed Monster! whom Priests have railed at, Philosophers despised, and Poets ridiculed: Is there a Wretch so abandoned as to own thee for an Acquaintance in publick? yet, how few will refuse to enjoy thee in private? nay, thou art the Pursuit of most Men through their Lives. The greatest Villanies are daily practised to please thee: nor is the meanest Thief below, or the greatest Hero above thy notice. Thy Embraces are often the sole Aim and sole Reward of the private Robbery, and the plundered Province. It is, to pamper up thee, thou Harlot, that we attempt to withdraw from others what we do not want, or to with-hold from them what they do. All our Passions are thy Slaves. Avarice itself is often no more than thy Hand-maid, and even Lust thy Pimp. The Bully Fear like a Coward, flies before thee, and Joy and Grief hide their Heads in thy Presence.

I know thou wilt think, that whilst I abuse thee, I court thee; and that thy Love hath inspired me to write this sarcastical Panegyrick on thee: but thou art deceived, I value thee not of a farthing; nor will it give me any Pain, if thou should'st prevail on the Reader to censure this Digression as errant Nonsense: for know to thy Confusion, that I have introduced thee for no other Purpose than to lengthen out a short Chapter; and so I return to my History.

 

 

Chapter XVI

The Escape of the Thief. Mr. Adams's Disappointment. The Arrival of two very extraordinary Personages, and the Introduction of Parson Adams to Parson Barnabas.

 

Barnabas and the Surgeon being returned, as we have said, to the Inn, in order to convey the Thief before the Justice, were greatly concerned to find a small Accident had happened which somewhat disconcerted them; and this was no other than the Thief's Escape, who had modestly withdrawn himself by Night, declining all Ostentation, and not chusing, in imitation of some great Men, to distinguish himself at the Expence of being pointed at.

When the Company had retired the Evening before, the Thief was detained in a Room where the Constable, and one of the young Fellows who took him, were planted as his Guard. About the second Watch, a general Complaint of Drowth was made both by the Prisoner and his Keepers. Among whom it was at last agreed, that the Constable should remain on Duty, and the young Fellow call up the Tapster; in which Disposition the latter apprehended not the least Danger, as the Constable was well armed, and could besides easily summon him back to his Assistance, if the Prisoner made the least Attempt to gain his Liberty.

The young Fellow had not long left the Room, before it came into the Constable's Head, that the Prisoner might leap on him by surprize, and thereby, preventing him of the use of his Weapons, especially the long Staff in which he chiefly confided, might reduce the Success of a Struggle to an equal Chance. He wisely therefore, to prevent this Inconvenience, slipt out of the Room himself and locked the Door, waiting without with his Staff in his Hand, ready lifted to fell the unhappy Prisoner, if by ill Fortune he should attempt to break out.

But human Life, as hath been discovered by some great Man or other, (for I would by no means be understood to affect the Honour of making any such Discovery) very much resembles a Game at Chess: for, as in the latter, while a Gamester is too attentive to secure himself very strongly on one side the Board, he is apt to leave an unguarded Opening on the other; so doth it often happen in Life; and so did it happen on this Occasion: for whilst the cautious Constable with such wonderful Sagacity had possessed himself of the Door, he most unhappily forgot the Window.

The Thief who played on the other side, no sooner perceived this Opening, than he began to move that way; and finding the Passage easy, he took with him the young Fellow's Hat; and without any Ceremony, stepped into the Street, and made the best of his Way.

The young Fellow returning with a double Mug of Strong Beer was a little surprized to find the Constable at the Door: but much more so, when, the Door being opened, he perceived the Prisoner had made his Escape, and which way: he threw down the Beer, and without uttering any thing to the Constable, except a hearty Curse or two, he nimbly leapt out at the Window, and went again in pursuit of his Prey: being very unwilling to lose the Reward which he had assured himself of.

The Constable hath not been discharged of Suspicion on this account: It hath been said, that not being concerned in the taking the Thief, he could not have been entitled to any part of the Reward, if he had been convicted. That the Thief had several Guineas in his Pocket; that it was very unlikely he should have been guilty of such an Oversight. That his Pretence for leaving the Room was absurd: that it was his constant Maxim, that a wise Man never refused Money on any Conditions: That at every Election, he always had sold his Vote to both Parties, etc.

But notwithstanding these and many other such Allegations, I am sufficiently convinced of his Innocence; having been positively assured of it, by those who received their Informations from his own Mouth; which, in the Opinion of some Moderns, is the best and indeed only Evidence.

All the Family were now up, and with many others assembled in the Kitchin, where Mr. Tow-wouse was in some Tribulation; the Surgeon having declared, that by Law, he was liable to be indicted for the Thief's Escape, as it was out of his House: He was a little comforted however by Mr. Barnabas's Opinion, that as the Escape was by Night, the Indictment would not lie.

Mrs. Tow-wouse delivered herself in the following Words: »Sure never was such a Fool as my Husband! would any other Person living have left a Man in the Custody of such a drunken, drowsy Blockhead as Tom Suckbribe?« (which was the Constable's Name) »and if he could be indicted without any harm to his Wife and Children, I should be glad of it.« (Then the Bell rung in Joseph's Room.) »Why Betty, John Chamberlain, where the Devil are you all? Have you no Ears, or no Conscience, not to tend the Sick better? – See what the Gentleman wants; why don't you go yourself, Mr. Tow-wouse? but any one may die for you; you have no more feeling than a Deal-Board. If a Man lived a Fortnight in your House without spending a Penny, you would never put him in mind of it. See whether he drinks Tea or Coffee for Breakfast.« »Yes, my Dear,« cry'd Tow-wouse. She then asked the Doctor and Mr. Barnabas what Morning's Draught they chose, who answered, they had a Pot of Syder-and, at the Fire; which we will leave them merry over, and return to Joseph.

He had rose pretty early this Morning: but tho' his Wounds were far from threatning any danger, he was so sore with the Bruises, that it was impossible for him to think of undertaking a Journey yet; Mr. Adams therefore, whose Stock was visibly decreased with the Expences of Supper and Breakfast, and which could not survive that Day's Scoring, began to consider how it was possible to recruit it. At last he cry'd, »he had luckily hit on a sure Method, and though it would oblige him to return himself home together with Joseph, it mattered not much.« He then sent for Tow-wouse, and taking him into another Room, told him, »he wanted to borrow three Guineas, for which he would put ample Security into his Hands.« Tow-wouse who expected a Watch, or Ring, or something of double the Value, answered, »he believed he could furnish him.« Upon which Adams pointing to his Saddle-Bag told him with a Face and Voice full of Solemnity, »that there were in that Bag no less than nine Volumes of Manuscript Sermons, as well worth a hundred Pound as a Shilling was worth twelve Pence, and that he would deposite one of the Volumes in his Hands by way of Pledge; not doubting but that he would have the Honesty to return it on his Repayment of the Money: for otherwise he must be a very great loser, seeing that every Volume would at least bring him ten Pounds, as he had been informed by a neighbouring Clergyman in the Country: for, (said he) as to my own part, having never yet dealt in Printing, I do not pretend to ascertain the exact Value of such things.«

Tow-wouse, who was a little surprized at the Pawn, said (and not without some Truth) »that he was no Judge of the Price of such kind of Goods; and as for Money, he really was very short.« Adams answered, »certainly he would not scruple to lend him three Guineas, on what was undoubtedly worth at least ten.« The Landlord replied, »he did not believe he had so much Money in the House, and besides he was to make up a Sum. He was very confident the Books were of much higher Value, and heartily sorry it did not suit him.« He then cry'd out, Coming Sir! though no body called, and ran down Stairs without any Fear of breaking his Neck.

Poor Adams was extremely dejected at this Disappointment, nor knew he what farther Strategem to try.