"O Vanity!"

In reading Joseph Andrews, I was most intrigued by Fielding's representation of the character of Parson Adams. In his introduction to the text, Thomas Keymer refers to the "ludicrous yet good-hearted Adams" (xxvii). Examples of the humorously ludicrous in Adams include his forgetfulness, his tendency towards being drawn against his nature into physical altercations, and his sometimes being the brunt of others' jokes (82; 103; 218). Fielding seems to approach something more serious, however, in his representation of other aspects of Adams' character. In the preface to Joseph Andrews, the narrator states the following:
"The only Source of the true Ridiculous (as it appears to me) is Affectation. . . . Now Affectation proceeds from one of these two Causes, Vanity, or Hypocrisy: for as Vanity puts us on affecting false characters, in order to purchase Applause; so Hypocrisy sets us on an Endeavor to avoid Censure by concealing our Vices under an Appearance of their opposite Virtues." (6) While Adams proves, throughout the novel, to be a loving and giving individual, he does not seem, as the narrator claims, to be "a Character of perfect Simplicity" (8). Rather, there are many moments in which he seems guilty of the vanity of which the narrator so disapproves. Adams, for instance, considers himself quite learned, and is resentful when others seem to question his intellectual or moral authority. While the first of the many debates in which he engages throughout the novel, this with Joseph Andrew's doctor regarding their respective knowledge of surgery, ends with Adams "very contendly suffer[ing[ the Doctor to enjoy his Victory," later discussions find the parson less willing to relent. For example, In a debate with with one of his many hosts concerning whether one's countenance may provide an accurate reflection of one's disposition, the other man speaks "with so little regard to the Parson's Observation, that it a good deal nettled him" (158). Injured, Adams boasts of the knowledge of the world he has obtained through reading: "I can go farther in an Afternoon, than you in a Twelve-Month" (159). Similarly, when Peter Bounce later refers to Adams as one who is ignorant of the world, the parson interrupts: "'You will pardon me, Sir,' returned Adams; 'I have read of the Gymnosophists" (238).

Adams is further characterized as one who is not terribly receptive of the wisdom of others. His and Parson Barnabas's discussion of tithes, for instance, "continued a full Hour, without the Doctor or the Exciseman's having one opportunity to offer a Word" (65). Later, in a rare moment in which Andrews shares his philosophical musings, the narrator remarks that "the Reader hath not been a little surprized at the long Silence of Parson Adams, especially as so many Occasions offer'd themselves to exert his Curiosity and Observation. The truth is, he was fast asleep, and had so been from the beginning of the preceding Narrative" (204). It is evident, then, that Adams gives greater weight to his own reflections than he does those of others. Didacticism is the nature of his profession, of course, but the aforementioned moments suggest that there is something of vanity in the eagerness with which Adams endeavors to share his wisdom with the world.

This is most succinctly, and humorously, related in Adams' conversation with Mr. Wilson concerning the latter's personal history. Here, Mr. WIlson expresses his scorn for vanity, and proves that he does so in both thought and deed by very honestly sharing with Adams the extent of his youthful transgressions (175-195). This leads to the parson searching "after a Sermon, which he thought his Masterpiece, against Vanity," and explaining that he has "never been a greater Enemy to any Passion than that silly one of Vanity" (186). That, in response, the humble Mr. Wilson simply "smiled, and proceeded" calls special attention to the irony, and hypocricy, of boasting of one's ability to speak against vanity (186).

These moments of Adams' hypocricy are brief but, given that they exist at all, significant. Late in the novel, at the supposed death of Adams' son, Andrews tries to comfort the parson with his own past sermons, in which he "preached nothing more than the Conquest of [passion] to Reason and Grace" (272). Adams dissolves, instead, into an emotional tumult, but shortly thereafter advises Andrews to bear his own suffering with composure. The fact that the parson is deeply offended when an impatient Andrews rejoins with "it is easier to give Advice than take it," suggests that Adams is here trying to avoid the censure of which the narrator earlier speaks by advocating a virtue he does not himself hold (272).

I woud not be interested in this characterization of Adams did I consider it a straightforward condemnation of vanity and hypocricy. Rather, I am intrigued by the fact that these traits exist in a character who is otherwise represented as so thoroughly good, and I wonder what Fielding means to communicate through this. In the preface, the narrator states, "O Vanity! How little is thy Force acknowledged, or thy Operations discerned  How wantonly dost thou deceive Mankind under different Disguises?" and follows with a thorough discussion of the trait as a great force of evil in the world (60). Following this diatribe, however, the narrator, in a self-conscioius moment, continues to address vanity thus: "I know thou wilt think, that while I abuse thee, I court thee; . . . but thou art deceived, i value thee not of a farthing; . . . for know to thy Confusion, that I have introduced thee for no other Purpose than to lengthen out a short Chapter" (60). The narrator's rather desperate insistence that vanity is of little consequence to him, coupled with the dubious assertion that he mentions it only to avoid brevity, communicates that it is an attribute with which he himself struggles. Perhaps the character of Parson Adams is meant to remind Fielding's audience that even the best of humans are subject to vanity and to encourage all to guard against it.