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Amelia, a novel by Henry Fielding

VOLUME III - BOOK XII - CHAPTER V

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_ Chapter V - What passed at the bailiff's house.


The doctor now set forwards to his friend Booth, and, as he past by
the door of his attorney in the way, he called upon him and took him
with him.

The meeting between him and Booth need not be expatiated on. The
doctor was really angry, and, though he deferred his lecture to a more
proper opportunity, yet, as he was no dissembler (indeed, he was
incapable of any disguise), he could not put on a show of that
heartiness with which he had formerly used to receive his friend.

Booth at last began himself in the following manner: "Doctor, I am
really ashamed to see you; and, if you knew the confusion of my soul
on this occasion, I am sure you would pity rather than upbraid me; and
yet I can say with great sincerity I rejoice in this last instance of
my shame, since I am like to reap the most solid advantage from it."
The doctor stared at this, and Booth thus proceeded: "Since I have
been in this wretched place I have employed my time almost entirely in
reading over a series of sermons which are contained in that book
(meaning Dr Barrow's works, which then lay on the table before him) in
proof of the Christian religion; and so good an effect have they had
upon me, that I shall, I believe, be the better man for them as long
as I live. I have not a doubt (for I own I have had such) which
remains now unsatisfied. If ever an angel might be thought to guide
the pen of a writer, surely the pen of that great and good man had
such an assistant." The doctor readily concurred in the praises of Dr
Barrow, and added, "You say you have had your doubts, young gentleman;
indeed, I did not know that--and, pray, what were your doubts?"
"Whatever they were, sir," said Booth, "they are now satisfied, as I
believe those of every impartial and sensible reader will be if he
will, with due attention, read over these excellent sermons." "Very
well," answered the doctor, "though I have conversed, I find, with a
false brother hitherto, I am glad you are reconciled to truth at last,
and I hope your future faith will have some influence on your future
life." "I need not tell you, sir," replied Booth, "that will always be
the case where faith is sincere, as I assure you mine is. Indeed, I
never was a rash disbeliever; my chief doubt was founded on this--
that, as men appeared to me to act entirely from their passions, their
actions could have neither merit nor demerit." "A very worthy
conclusion truly!" cries the doctor; "but if men act, as I believe
they do, from their passions, it would be fair to conclude that
religion to be true which applies immediately to the strongest of
these passions, hope and fear; chusing rather to rely on its rewards
and punishments than on that native beauty of virtue which some of the
antient philosophers thought proper to recommend to their disciples.
But we will defer this discourse till another opportunity; at present,
as the devil hath thought proper to set you free, I will try if I can
prevail on the bailiff to do the same."

The doctor had really not so much money in town as Booth's debt
amounted to, and therefore, though he would otherwise very willingly
have paid it, he was forced to give bail to the action. For which
purpose, as the bailiff was a man of great form, he was obliged to get
another person to be bound with him. This person, however, the
attorney undertook to procure, and immediately set out in quest of
him.

During his absence the bailiff came into the room, and, addressing
himself to the doctor, said, "I think, sir, your name is Doctor
Harrison?" The doctor immediately acknowledged his name. Indeed, the
bailiff had seen it to a bail-bond before. "Why then, sir," said the
bailiff, "there is a man above in a dying condition that desires the
favour of speaking to you; I believe he wants you to pray by him."

The bailiff himself was not more ready to execute his office on all
occasions for his fee than the doctor was to execute his for nothing.
Without making any further enquiry therefore into the condition of the
man, he immediately went up-stairs.

As soon as the bailiff returned down-stairs, which was immediately
after he had lodged the doctor in the room, Booth had the curiosity to
ask him who this man was. "Why, I don't know much of him," said the
bailiff; "I had him once in custody before now: I remember it was when
your honour was here last; and now I remember, too, he said that he
knew your honour very well. Indeed, I had some opinion of him at that
time, for he spent his money very much like a gentleman; but I have
discovered since that he is a poor fellow, and worth nothing. He is a
mere shy cock; I have had the stuff about me this week, and could
never get at him till this morning; nay, I don't believe we should
ever have found out his lodgings had it not been for the attorney that
was here just now, who gave us information. And so we took him this
morning by a comical way enough; for we dressed up one of my men in
women's cloathes, who told the people of the house that he was his
sister, just come to town--for we were told by the attorney that he
had such a sister, upon which he was let up-stairs--and so kept the
door ajar till I and another rushed in. Let me tell you, captain,
there are as good stratagems made use of in our business as any in the
army."

"But pray, sir," said Booth, "did not you tell me this morning that
the poor fellow was desperately wounded; nay, I think you told the
doctor that he was a dying man?" "I had like to have forgot that,"
cries the bailiff. "Nothing would serve the gentleman but that he must
make resistance, and he gave my man a blow with a stick; but I soon
quieted him by giving him a wipe or two with a hanger. Not that, I
believe, I have done his business neither; but the fellow is faint-
hearted, and the surgeon, I fancy, frightens him more than he need.
But, however, let the worst come to the worst, the law is all on my
side, and it is only _se fendendo_. The attorney that was here just
now told me so, and bid me fear nothing; for that he would stand my
friend, and undertake the cause; and he is a devilish good one at a
defence at the Old Bailey, I promise you. I have known him bring off
several that everybody thought would have been hanged."

"But suppose you should be acquitted," said Booth, "would not the
blood of this poor wretch lie a little heavy at your heart?"

"Why should it, captain?" said the bailiff. "Is not all done in a
lawful way? Why will people resist the law when they know the
consequence? To be sure, if a man was to kill another in an unlawful
manner as it were, and what the law calls murder, that is quite and
clear another thing. I should not care to be convicted of murder any
more than another man. Why now, captain, you have been abroad in the
wars they tell me, and to be sure must have killed men in your time.
Pray, was you ever afraid afterwards of seeing their ghosts?"

"That is a different affair," cries Booth; "but I would not kill a man
in cold blood for all the world."

"There is no difference at all, as I can see," cries the bailiff. "One
is as much in the way of business as the other. When gentlemen behave
themselves like unto gentlemen I know how to treat them as such as
well as any officer the king hath; and when they do not, why they must
take what follows, and the law doth not call it murder."

Booth very plainly saw that the bailiff had squared his conscience
exactly according to law, and that he could not easily subvert his way
of thinking. He therefore gave up the cause, and desired the bailiff
to expedite the bonds, which he promised to do; saying, he hoped he
had used him with proper civility this time, if he had not the last,
and that he should be remembered for it.

But before we close this chapter we shall endeavour to satisfy an
enquiry, which may arise in our most favourite readers (for so are the
most curious), how it came to pass that such a person as was Doctor
Harrison should employ such a fellow as this Murphy?

The case then was thus: this Murphy had been clerk to an attorney in
the very same town in which the doctor lived, and, when he was out of
his time, had set up with a character fair enough, and had married a
maid-servant of Mrs. Harris, by which means he had all the business to
which that lady and her friends, in which number was the doctor, could
recommend him.

Murphy went on with his business, and thrived very well, till he
happened to make an unfortunate slip, in which he was detected by a
brother of the same calling. But, though we call this by the gentle
name of a slip, in respect to its being so extremely common, it was a
matter in which the law, if it had ever come to its ears, would have
passed a very severe censure, being, indeed, no less than perjury and
subornation of perjury.

This brother attorney, being a very good-natured man, and unwilling to
bespatter his own profession, and considering, perhaps, that the
consequence did in no wise affect the public, who had no manner of
interest in the alternative whether A., in whom the right was, or B.,
to whom Mr. Murphy, by the means aforesaid, had transferred it,
succeeded in an action; we mention this particular, because, as this
brother attorney was a very violent party man, and a professed
stickler for the public, to suffer any injury to have been done to
that, would have been highly inconsistent with his principles.

This gentleman, therefore, came to Mr. Murphy, and, after shewing him
that he had it in his power to convict him of the aforesaid crime,
very generously told him that he had not the least delight in bringing
any man to destruction, nor the least animosity against him. All that
he insisted upon was, that he would not live in the same town or
county with one who had been guilty of such an action. He then told
Mr. Murphy that he would keep the secret on two conditions; the one
was, that he immediately quitted that country; the other was, that he
should convince him he deserved this kindness by his gratitude, and
that Murphy should transfer to the other all the business which he
then had in those parts, and to which he could possibly recommend him.

It is the observation of a very wise man, that it is a very common
exercise of wisdom in this world, of two evils to chuse the least. The
reader, therefore, cannot doubt but that Mr. Murphy complied with the
alternative proposed by his kind brother, and accepted the terms on
which secrecy was to be obtained.

This happened while the doctor was abroad, and with all this, except
the departure of Murphy, not only the doctor, but the whole town (save
his aforesaid brother alone), were to this day unacquainted.

The doctor, at his return, hearing that Mr. Murphy was gone, applied
to the other attorney in his affairs, who still employed this Murphy
as his agent in town, partly, perhaps, out of good will to him, and
partly from the recommendation of Miss Harris; for, as he had married
a servant of the family, and a particular favourite of hers, there can
be no wonder that she, who was entirely ignorant of the affair above
related, as well as of his conduct in town, should continue her favour
to him. It will appear, therefore, I apprehend, no longer strange that
the doctor, who had seen this man but three times since his removal to
town, and then conversed with him only on business, should remain as
ignorant of his life and character, as a man generally is of the
character of the hackney-coachman who drives him. Nor doth it reflect
more on the honour or understanding of the doctor, under these
circumstances, to employ Murphy, than it would if he had been driven
about the town by a thief or a murderer. _

Read next: VOLUME III: BOOK XII: CHAPTER VI

Read previous: VOLUME III: BOOK XII: CHAPTER IV

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