The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

“If you have Fortunes you are hereby rendered incapable of enjoying them; if you have none, you are disabled from acquiring any, nay almost of procuring your Sustenance; for no Persons of Character will receive you into their Houses. Thus you are often driven by Necessity itself into a State of Shame and Misery, which unavoidably ends in the Destruction of both Body and Soul.”

Mr. Allworthy predicts a bleak future for Jenny Jones now that she has admitted to having a child out of wedlock. His warning reflects the value placed on The Ideal of Female Chastity, in reputation and in fact, and suggests a tenuous standing for “fallen” women in 18th-century England. This passage also reveals the double standard that was applied during this time frame, for while women were harshly punished for even the merest suggestion of impropriety, men were allowed a much greater degree of sexual freedom and could maintain a veneer of respectability despite many conquests.

“Men of true Wisdom and Goodness are contented to take Persons and Things as they are, without complaining of their Imperfections, or attempting to amend them. They can see a Fault in a Friend, a Relation, or an Acquaintance […] without lessening their Affection.”

Through the voice of the narrator, Fielding argues throughout his novel that human nature is complex and that his characters, just like real people, are neither purely good nor completely villainous. There is a shade of satire in his description of Allworthy’s tolerance of Captain Blifil, however, as Allworthy seems unaware of Captain Blifil’s intentions to use the Allworthy family to benefit himself and his son.

“It is not enough that your Designs, nay your Actions, are intrinsically good, you must take Care they shall appear so. If your inside be never so beautiful, you must preserve a fair Outside also. […] Let this, my young Readers, be your constant Maxim, That no Man can be good enough to enable him to neglect the Rules of Prudence; nor will Virtue herself look beautiful, unless she be bedecked with the outward Ornament of Decency and Decorum.”

In what seems a sermon of moral advice, the narrator speaks to his themes of judgment and virtue by suggesting that it is not enough to simply be good; instead, one must also be known to be good. This importance of appearance to public opinion is a frequent target of satire through the novel, as Fielding compares the outward pretensions to prudence, as demonstrated by young Blifil, to the intrinsically good intentions of Tom, whose impulsive actions are often considered outrageous.

“Are you then so profligate and abandoned a Libertine, to doubt whether the breaking the Laws of God and Man, the corrupting and ruining a poor Girl, be Guilt? I owe, indeed, it doth lie principally upon you, and so heavy it is, that you ought to expect it should crush you.”

In a society where class and status are determined by birth, those who are born to unmarried parents represent a disruption of that order and are therefore perceived in a variety of unflattering ways. In lecturing Tom for getting Molly Seagrim pregnant, Allworthy not only holds Tom accountable for his actions—which other characters seem less inclined to do—but also treats sex outside of marriage as a moral crime for which Tom should be properly penitent.

“Indeed he had exposed her to more Envy than Shame […] For many Women abused her for being a Whore, while they envied her her Lover and her Finery, and would have been themselves glad to have purchased these at the same Rate.”

In contrast to Allworthy’s outrage over Tom’s affair with Molly, the villagers seem to resent Molly for having a rich, handsome gentleman who gives her expensive presents. Throughout the novel, Fielding exposes such hypocritical attitudes, frequently mocking the fickleness of public opinion and satirizing the ways in which women’s sexual behavior is censured while men’s sexual behavior is entirely unfettered.

“I am convinced, my Child, that you have much Goodness, Generosity, and Honour in your Temper; if you will add Prudence and Religion to these, you must be happy: For the three former Qualities, I admit, make you worthy of Happiness, but they are the latter only which will put you in Possession of it.”

Fielding introduces many moments of philosophical commentary on the virtuous life, some of which work satirically and others which sound sincere, as in this quotation, when Allworthy, believing himself to be on his deathbed, lectures Tom about the moral qualities he needs to cultivate. Throughout the novel, Allworthy is held up as a model for masculine virtue, though he has his own flaws as well.

“To say the Truth, in discovering the Deceit of others, it matters much that our own Art be wound up, if I may use the Expression, in the same Key with theirs: For the very artful Men sometimes miscarry by fancying others wiser, or in other words, greater Knaves than they really are.”

In another example of how he frequently reflects on human nature, the narrator asserts that the deceitful will generally suspect others of similar prevarication. In this instance, Aunt Western has herself been duplicitous about her own sexual affairs but is nonetheless trying to discern the object of Sophia’s affections: information that Sophia is endeavoring to hide.

“Mr. Blifil was so desirous of the Match, that he intended to deceive Sophia, by pretending Love to her; and to deceive her Father and his own Uncle, by pretending he was beloved by her. In doing this, he availed himself of the Piety of Thwackum, who held, that if the End proposed was religious (as surely Matrimony is) it mattered not how wicked were the Means.”

Fielding satirizes the concept of virtue through the character of Blifil, who, with his calculating self-interest, presents a modest and prudent façade that leads others to believe him to be a virtuous character. Allworthy in particular is thoroughly deceived and is one of the last to discover Blifil’s true nature. Fielding also satirizes religious piety that holds no room for compassion in the character of Thwackum, the cleric.

“We mention this Observation […] lest some Critic should hereafter plume himself on discovering it. We would have these Gentlemen know we can see what is odd in Characters as well as themselves, but it is our Business to relate the Facts as they are; which when we have done, it is the Part of the learned and sagacious Reader to consult that original Book of Nature, whence every Passage in our Work is transcribed.”

Fielding’s narrator suggests that he is laying out evidence of events from which the reader, like a justice or jury, can make their own judgment. This desire to maintain full control over his narrative is a distinctive feature of his authorial voice, as are the frequent aspersions that he casts on literary critics, which perhaps reflects a resentment held over from Fielding’s career as a dramatist. His claim to be true to the book of nature is a gesture toward realism (or verisimilitude) that is a key feature of the literary novel.

“She had put herself to the Expence of a long Hood, in order to attend the extraordinary Emotions of the Spirit; but having found, during an Experiment of three Weeks, no Emotions, she says, worth a Farthing, she very wisely laid by her Hood, and abandoned the Sect.”

Fielding often mocks the appearance of virtue or piety that disguises self-interest, and another example appears in this poke at a landlady who briefly tries to convert to Methodism but abandons the attempt when it fails to provide the religious ecstasy that she seeks. She buys a hood because Methodist women at the time were encouraged to cover their hair, in keeping with early Christian tradition. It is also worth noting that a farthing, which is worth a quarter of a penny, is a very small amount of money.

“Those who travel in order to acquaint themselves with the different Manners of Men, might spare themselves much Pains, by going to a carnival at Venice, for there they will see at once all which they discover in the several Courts of Europe. The same Hypocrisy, the same Fraud; in short, the same Follies and Vices, dressed in different Habits.”

The Man on the Hill’s jadedness about human nature poses a contrast to Tom’s goodwill toward his fellow creatures. The story of the Man of the Hill, aside from being a lively digression in the narrative, shows the plight of a man who could not find virtue, harmony, or tolerance within human society and so rejected it.

“To confess the Truth, I am afraid Mr. Jones […] treacherously delivered up the Garrison, without duly weighing his Allegiance to the fair Sophia. In short, no sooner had the amorous Parley ended, and the Lady had unmasked the Royal Battery, by carelessly letting her Handkerchief drop from her Neck, than the Heart of Mr. Jones was entirely taken, and the fair Conqueror enjoyed the usual Fruits of her Victory.”

To create an ironic tone, the narrator delights in using epic similes to describe small events, and he therefore depicts Tom’s dinner with Mrs. Waters as a siege of seduction. The narrator has previously explained that love can be confused with sexual interest, and he is aware that some readers will regard Tom’s having sex with Mrs. Waters as a lack of faithfulness to Sophia, so he chooses to satirize an interaction that Tom will later repent of as an error. Mrs. Waters, who is pursuing an attractive man without other hope of gain, also disrupts the conventional ideal of female chastity.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick […] really was born a gentleman […] and tho, perhaps, he had some few Blemishes in his Heart as well as in his Head, yet being a sneaking, or a niggardly Fellow, was not one of them. In reality, he was so generous a Man, that whereas he had received a very handsome Fortune with his Wife, he had now spent every Penny of it, except some little Pittance which was settled upon her; and in order to possess himself of his, he had used her with such Cruelty, that together with his Jealousy, which was of the bitterest Kind, it had forced the poor Woman to run away from him.”

Fielding frequently skewers the ideal of a gentleman, especially those who claim gentle status without any claims to courteous behavior. The sarcasm is heavy in this paragraph, which describes Fitzpatrick as “generous” when he has been pressuring his wife to surrender her money to his control.

“You know she hath been educated always in a Manner directly contrary to my Advice, and now you see the Consequence. Have I not a thousand Times argued with you about giving my Niece her own Will? […] Had I been trusted entirely with the Care of her Education, no such Accident as this had ever befallen you.”

The consequences of educating women are hotly debated in this novel. Aunt Western suggests to the Squire that her own method of education would have made Sophia obedient, while the Squire’s permissiveness has made Sophia headstrong and caused her to run away.

“Cruel indeed would it be, if such a Work as this History, which hath employed some Thousands of Hours in the composing, should be liable to be condemned, because some particular Chapter, or perhaps Chapters, may be obnoxious to very just and sensible Objections.”

This contemplation on the aims and effects of literary criticism occupies one the prefatory chapters which Fielding has established as a device that lets him introduce outside philosophizing on several subjects. While Fielding claims that the author, not the critic, is charge of his work, the narrator of the novel nonetheless makes frequent attempts to manage the reader’s expectations and interpretations, as if in a desperate attempt to forestall the inevitable commentary of future critics. This device of metafiction—the self-conscious shaping of fiction as fiction—appears frequently in other early novels as well as this one.

“But so Matters fell out, and so I must relate them; and if any Reader is shocked at their appearing unnatural, I cannot help it. I must remind such Persons, that I am not writing a System, but a History, and I am not obliged to reconcile every Matter to the received Notions concerning Truth and Nature.”

In this passage, the narrator once again reminds his reader that his endeavor is a “novel” type of writing, a “history” that is true to life rather than a marvelous or moralizing tale. There is an element of satire to this declaration, as Fielding’s characters often embody stereotypes—Allworthy and Honour are two such characters exemplified by their name.

“First, Genius; thou Gift of Heaven; without whose Aid, in vain we struggle against the Stream of Nature. Thou, who dost sow the generous Seeds which Art nourishes, and brings to Perfection. Do thou kindly take me by the Hand, and lead me through all the Mazes, the winding Labyrinths of Nature.”

In this opening chapter, Fielding uses the epic convention of the invocation of the muse to call upon aid for his writing project, using the archaic forms of “thou” for “you” and “dost” for “do” to elevate his language. This passage offers an example of the many times in which the author satirically employs epic conventions to align his work with the revered classics of Homer and others, when he is, as indicated above, writing about average English life.

“In my humble Opinion, the true Characteristic of the present Beau Monde, is rather Folly than Vice, and the only Epithet which it deserves is that of Frivolous.”

Fielding’s satire becomes especially pointed as he skewers contemporary manners, especially of those considered fashionable. (For example, “beau monde” is French for “beautiful world,” the name for the English upper classes.) The complaint seems largely to be, once again, the distance between appearance and intention, self-interest as opposed to compassion, personal amusement rather than generosity to others.

“Can you, with Honour, be the knowing, the wilful Occasion, nay, the artful Contriver of the Ruin of a human Being? Can you, with Honour, destroy the Fame, the Peace, nay, probably, both the life and Soul too of this Creature? Can Honour bear the Thought, that this Creature is a tender, helpless, defenceless, young Woman?”

When Tom scolds Nightengale for seducing and abandoning Nancy, this moment either marks a reform in his attitudes toward women, or he has conveniently forgotten that he had sex with and then abandoned Molly Seagrim while she was pregnant. The difference in treatment due to the young women may also be due to social station; Nancy, as the daughter of a cleric, can be considered of gentle birth, while Molly, of the working class, is not considered tender, helpless, or defenseless.

“[Tom] had no knowledge of that Character which is vulgarly called a Demirep; that is to say, a Woman who intrigues with every Man she likes, under the Name and Appearance of Virtue, and who […] every Body knows to be what no Body calls her.”

The Ideal of Female Chastity is lightly held by many in the novel. Lady Bellaston knows that because she is widowed, wealthy, and titled, she is above the public censure for her conduct that would be brought against Jenny Jones, Molly Seagrim, or even Bridget Allworthy, had her indiscretion been made known. Lady Bellaston also proves that different values prevail among the Beau Monde or “town” set.

“The Squire […] turned all his Consideration towards his Daughter, whom he loved so tenderly, that the least Apprehension of any Harm happening to her, threw him presently into Agonies: For except in that single Instance in which the whole future Happiness of her Life was concerned, she was sovereign Mistress of his Inclinations.”

The narrator insists, with great irony, on Squire Western’s utter devotion to his daughter, which does not reconcile with his pressure on her to marry Blifil. Sophia’s refusal mocks his authority as father and patriarch, even while she insists that she is an obedient daughter.

“Thus did the Affection of Allworthy for his Nephew betray the superior Understanding to be triumphed over by the inferior; and thus is the Prudence of the best of Heads often defeated, by the Tenderness of the best of Hearts.”

Because the narrator continually praises Allworthy for being the most exemplary of men, he must find a way to explain how Allworthy is so often easily duped. Accordingly, he attributes this flaw to Allworthy’s innate compassion for others. Throughout the novel, Fielding examines the value of goodness as a virtue, since it so rarely aligns with the vice of self-interest.

“The black Ingredient which fouls our Disposition is Envy. Hence our Eye is seldom, I am afraid, turned upward to those who are manifestly greater, better, wiser, or happier than ourselves, without some Degree of malignity; while we commonly look downwards on the Mean and Miserable, with sufficient Benevolence and Pity. […] Envy […] [is] a hellish Vice; and yet one from which I have known very few absolutely exempt. But enough of a Subject which, if pursued, would lead me too far.”

This passage provides an example of one of the narrator’s many philosophizing digressions, for here he once again interjects a lengthy social commentary that interrupts the story outright, imposing his own, presumably omniscient voice upon the events of the narrative. Though he avows that his intent is not to moralize but rather to provide a realistic sketch, the narrator cannot resist indulging in these remarks that contemplate the tendencies of human nature.