How we cite our quotes: (Book.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
[F]or when [Jenny Jones] was convened before the justice, and it was universally apprehended that the house of correction would have been her fate, though some of the young women cryed out "It was good enough for her," and diverted themselves with the thoughts of her beating hemp in a silk gown; yet there were many others who began to pity her condition: but when it was known in what manner Mr Allworthy had behaved, the tide turned against her. One said, "I'll assure you, madam hath had good luck." A second cryed, "See what it is to be a favourite!" A third, "Ay, this comes of her learning." Every person made some malicious comment or other on the occasion, and reflected on the partiality of the justice.
The behaviour of these people may appear impolitic and ungrateful to the reader, who considers the power and benevolence of Mr Allworthy. But as to his power, he never used it; and as to his benevolence, he exerted so much, that he had thereby disobliged all his neighbours; for it is a secret well known to great men, that, by conferring an obligation, they do not always procure a friend, but are certain of creating many enemies. (1.9.2-3)
The narrator insists that Tom Jones is a novel about human nature. Well, from this passage at least, it seems like the narrator's view of human nature is pretty bleak. When the villagers think Jenny Jones is headed to prison, some of them start to feel bad for her. But when they find out she's not going to prison, everyone turns against her—and against Squire Allworthy. They all assume that Squire Allworthy must have some special interest (probably sexual) in Jenny's case to be so kind to her. Even worse, Squire Allworthy becomes a target for gossip because he does so much good in his neighborhood that a lot of the villagers resent and envy him. So this episode suggests that human nature is really stupid and contrary: when you're down on your luck, people will pity (and condescend to) you. But when you are doing well, and when you are trying to help other people, there will be lots of fools who get jealous and nasty.
Quote #2
Nothing was wanting to enable him to enter upon the immediate execution of this plan, but the death of Mr Allworthy; in calculating which he had employed much of his own algebra, besides purchasing every book extant that treats of the value of lives, reversions, &c. From all which he satisfied himself, that as he had every day a chance of this happening, so had he more than an even chance of its happening within a few years.
But while the captain was one day busied in deep contemplations of this kind, one of the most unlucky as well as unseasonable accidents happened to him. The utmost malice of Fortune could, indeed, have contrived nothing so cruel, so mal-a-propos, so absolutely destructive to all his schemes. In short, not to keep the reader in long suspense, just at the very instant when his heart was exulting in meditations on the happiness which would accrue to him by Mr Allworthy's death, he himself—died of an apoplexy. (2.8.3-4)
Okay, so this bit of Tom Jones is definitely darkly funny. Captain Blifil hates his wife, and he hates his brother-in-law. He's at his happiest when he's walking by himself, contemplating Squire Allworthy's death. He has already made a bunch of assumptions: (a) that Squire Allworthy will die soon; (b) that Captain Blifil will inherit his cash (since his wife is a woman and his son is too young); and (c) that Squire Allworthy's fortune is beyond huge. But! Instead, Captain Blifil is the one who dies first, in the middle of one of these fantasy sessions about Squire Allworthy's money. Captain Blifil's death shows a bunch of things: (a) that you can never 100% count on anything in this life, since luck is always a factor, and (b) you shouldn't waste your time fantasizing endlessly about the distant future because it may never happen. Seize the day! Live in the moment! And all of those other clichés you always see in sports drink ads.
Quote #3
Wine now had totally subdued this power [of reason] in Jones. He was, indeed, in a condition, in which, if reason had interposed, though only to advise, she might have received the answer which one Cleostratus gave many years ago to a silly fellow, who asked him, if he was not ashamed to be drunk? "Are not you," said Cleostratus, "ashamed to admonish a drunken man?"—To say the truth, in a court of justice drunkenness must not be an excuse, yet in a court of conscience it is greatly so; and therefore Aristotle, who commends the laws of Pittacus, by which drunken men received double punishment for their crimes, allows there is more of policy than justice in that law. Now, if there are any transgressions pardonable from drunkenness, they are certainly such as Mr Jones was at present guilty of; on which head I could pour forth a vast profusion of learning, if I imagined it would either entertain my reader, or teach him anything more than he knows already. (5.10.6)
As usual, this narrator loves the humor of taking something very stupid and presenting it as very serious. The ridiculous contrast here is pretty obvious: Tom is drunk out of his mind and ready to sleep with Molly in spite of his feelings for Sophia. The narrator addresses Tom's dumb behavior by using extremely formal language and the example of Aristotle (only one of the most highly renowned Greek philosophers ever). This moment is like the novel equivalent of editing together a high-toned video parody of black-and-white French film using fluffy cats. We guess humor hasn't changed that much in two hundred and fifty years—it'll always be funny to take something totally idiotic and treat it like it's The Most Important Thing Ever.