CHAPTER IV.
Which consists of Visiting.
CHAPTER V.
An Adventure which happened to Mr. Jones, at his Lodgings, with some Account of a young Gentleman who lodged there, and of the Mistress of the House, and her two Daughters.
CHAPTER VI.
What arrived while the Company were at Breakfast, with some Hints concerning the Government of Daughters.
CHAPTER VII.
Containing the whole Humours of a Masquerade.
CHAPTER VIII.
Containing a Scene of Distress, which will appear very extraordinary to some of our Readers.
CHAPTER IX.
Which treats of Matters of a very different Kind from those in the preceding Chapter.
CHAPTER X.
A Chapter which, tho’ short, may draw Tears from some Eyes.
CHAPTER XI.
In which the Reader will be surprized.
CHAPTER XII.
In which the Thirteenth Book is concluded.
BOOK XIV.
Containing two Days.
CHAPTER I.
An Essay to prove that an Author will write better, for having some Knowledge of the Subject on which he writes.
CHAPTER II.
Containing Letters and other Matters which attend Amours.
CHAPTER III.
Containing various Matters.
CHAPTER IV.
Which we hope will be very attentively perused by young People of both Sexes.
CHAPTER V.
A short Account of the History of Mrs. Miller.
CHAPTER VI.
Containing a Scene which we doubt not will affect all our Readers.
CHAPTER VII.
The Interview between Mr. Jones and Mr. Nightingale.
CHAPTER VIII.
What passed between Jones and old Mr. Nightingale, with the Arrival of a Person not yet mentioned in this History.
CHAPTER IX.
Containing strange Matters.
CHAPTER X.
A short Chapter, which concludes the Book.
BOOK XV.
In which the History advances about two Days.
CHAPTER I.
Too short to need a Preface.
CHAPTER II.
In which is opened a very black Design against Sophia.
CHAPTER III.
A further Explanation of the foregoing Design.
CHAPTER IV.
By which it will appear how dangerous an Advocate a Lady is, when she applies her Eloquence to an ill Purpose.
CHAPTER V.
Containing some Matters which may affect, and others which may surprize the Reader.
CHAPTER VI.
By what Means the Squire came to discover his Daughter.
CHAPTER VII.
In which various Misfortunes befal poor Jones.
CHAPTER VIII.
Short and sweet.
CHAPTER IX.
Containing Love-Letters of several Sorts.
CHAPTER X.
Consisting partly of Facts, and partly of Observations upon them.
CHAPTER XI.
Containing curious, but not unprecedented Matter.
CHAPTER XII.
A Discovery made by Partridge.
BOOK XVI.
Containing the Space of Five Days.
CHAPTER I.
Of Prologues.
CHAPTER II.
A whimsical Adventure which befel the Squire, with the distressed Situation of Sophia.
CHAPTER III.
What happened to Sophia during her Confinement.
CHAPTER IV.
In which Sophia is delivered from her Confinement.
CHAPTER V.
In which Jones receives a Letter from Sophia, and goes to a Play with Mrs. Miller and Partridge.
CHAPTER VI.
In which the History is obliged to look back.
CHAPTER VII.
In which Mr. Western pays a Visit to his Sister, in Company with Mr. Blifil.
CHAPTER VIII.
Schemes of Lady Bellaston for the Ruin of Jones.
CHAPTER IX.
In which Jones pays a Visit to Mrs. Fitzpatrick.
CHAPTER X.
The Consequences of the preceding Visit.
BOOK XVII.
Containing three Days.
CHAPTER I.
Containing a Portion of introductory Writing.
CHAPTER II.
The generous and grateful Behaviour of Mrs. Miller.
CHAPTER III.
The Arrival of Mr. Western, with some Matters concerning the Paternal Authority.
CHAPTER IV.
An extraordinary Scene between Sophia and her Aunt.
CHAPTER V.
Mrs. Miller and Mr. Nightingale visit Jones in the Prison.
CHAPTER VI.
In which Mrs. Miller pays a Visit to Sophia.
CHAPTER VII.
A pathetic Scene between Mr. Allworthy and Mrs. Miller.
CHAPTER VIII.
Containing various Matters.
CHAPTER IX.
What happened to Mr. Jones in the Prison.
BOOK XVIII.
Containing about Six Days.
CHAPTER I.
A Farewel to the Reader.
CHAPTER II.
Containing a very tragical Incident.
CHAPTER III.
Allworthy visits old Nightingale; with a strange Discovery that he made on that Occasion.
CHAPTER IV.
Containing two Letters in very different Stiles.
CHAPTER V.
In which the History is continued.
CHAPTER VI.
In which the History is farther continued.
CHAPTER VII.
Continuation of the History.
CHAPTER VIII.
Farther Continuation.
CHAPTER IX.
A further Continuation.
CHAPTER X.
Wherein the History begins to draw towards a Conclusion.
CHAPTER XI.
The History draws nearer to a Conclusion.
CHAPTER XII.
Approaching still nearer to the End.
CHAPTER THE LAST.
In which the History is concluded.
THE HISTORY OF A FOUNDLING
BOOK I.
Containing as much of the Birth of the Foundling as is necessary or proper to acquaint the Reader with in the Beginning of this History.
CHAPTER I.
The Introduction to the Work, or Bill of Fare to
the Feast.1
An Author ought to consider himself, not as a Gentleman who gives a private or eleemosynary Treat, but rather as one who keeps a public Ordinary,2 at which all Persons are welcome for their Money. In the former Case, it is well known, that the Entertainer provides what Fare he pleases; and tho’ this should be very indifferent, and utterly disagreeable to the Taste of his Company, they must not find any Fault; nay, on the contrary, Good-Breeding forces them outwardly to approve and to commend whatever is set before them. Now the contrary of this happens to the Master of an Ordinary. Men who pay for what they eat, will insist on gratifying their Palates, however nice and whimsical these may prove; and if every Thing is not agreeable to their Taste, will challenge a Right to censure, to abuse, and to d——n their Dinner without Controul.
To prevent therefore giving Offence to their Customers by any such Disappointment, it hath been usual, with the honest and well-meaning Host, to provide a Bill of Fare, which all Persons may peruse at their first Entrance into the House; and, having thence acquainted themselves with the Entertainment which they may expect, may either stay and regale with what is provided for them, or may depart to some other Ordinary better accommodated to their Taste.
As we do not disdain to borrow Wit or Wisdom from any Man who is capable of lending us either, we have condescended to take a Hint from these honest Victuallers, and shall prefix not only a general Bill of Fare to our whole Entertainment, but shall l
ikewise give the Reader particular Bills to every Course which is to be served up in this and the ensuing Volumes.
The Provision then which we have here made is no other than HUMAN NATURE. Nor do I fear that my sensible Reader,3 though most luxurious in his Taste, will start, cavil, or be offended, because I have named but one Article. The Tortoise, as the Alderman of Bristol, well learned in eating, knows by much Experience, besides the delicious Calibash and Calipee,4 contains many different kinds of Food; nor can the learned Reader be ignorant, that in Human Nature, tho’ here collected under one general Name, is such prodigious Variety, that a Cook will have sooner gone through all the several Species of animal and vegetable Food in the World, than an Author will be able to exhaust so extensive a Subject.
An Objection may perhaps be apprehended from the more delicate, that this Dish is too common and vulgar; for what else is the Subject of all the Romances, Novels, Plays and Poems, with which the Stalls abound? Many exquisite Viands might be rejected by the Epicure, if it was a sufficient Cause for his contemning of them as common and vulgar, that something was to be found in the most paultry Alleys under the same Name. In reality, true Nature is as difficult to be met with in Authors, as the Bayonne Ham or Bologna Sausage is to be found in the Shops.
But the whole, to continue the same Metaphor, consists in the Cookery of the Author; for, as Mr. Pope tells us,
True Wit is Nature to Advantage drest,
What oft’ was thought, but ne’er so well exprest.5
The same Animal which hath the Honour to have some Part of his Flesh eaten at the Table of a Duke, may perhaps be degraded in another Part, and some of his Limbs gibbeted, as it were, in the vilest Stall in Town. Where then lies the Difference between the Food of the Nobleman and the Porter, if both are at Dinner on the same Ox or Calf, but in the seasoning, the dressing, the garnishing, and the setting forth? Hence the one provokes and incites the most languid Appetite, and the other turns and palls that which is the sharpest and keenest.
In like manner, the Excellence of the mental Entertainment consists less in the Subject, than in the Author’s Skill in well dressing it up. How pleased therefore will the Reader be to find, that we have, in the following Work, adhered closely to one of the highest Principles of the best Cook which the present Age, or perhaps that of Heliogabalus,6 hath produced? This great Man, as is well known to all Lovers of polite eating, begins at first by setting plain Things before his hungry Guests, rising afterwards by Degrees, as their Stomachs may be supposed to decrease, to the very Quintessence of Sauce and Spices. In like manner, we shall represent Human Nature at first to the keen Appetite of our Reader, in that more plain and simple Manner in which it is found in the Country, and shall hereafter hash and ragoo it with all the high French and Italian Seasoning of Affectation and Vice which Courts and Cities afford. By these Means, we doubt not but our Reader may be rendered desirous to read on for ever, as the great Person, just above-mentioned, is supposed to have made some Persons eat.
Having premised thus much, we will now detain those, who like our Bill of Fare, no longer from their Diet, and shall proceed directly to serve up the first Course of our History, for their Entertainment.
CHAPTER II.
A short Description of Squire Allworthy, and a fuller Account of Miss Bridget Allworthy his Sister.
In that Part of the western Division of this Kingdom, which is commonly called Somersetshire, there lately lived (and perhaps lives still) a Gentleman whose Name was Allworthy, and who might well be called the Favourite of both Nature and Fortune; for both of these seem to have contended which should bless and enrich him most. In this Contention, Nature may seem to some to have come off victorious, as she bestowed on him many Gifts; while Fortune had only one Gift in her Power; but in pouring forth this, she was so very profuse, that others perhaps may think this single Endowment to have been more than equivalent to all the various Blessings which he enjoyed from Nature. From the former of these, he derived an agreeable Person, a sound Constitution, a solid Understanding, and a benevolent Heart; by the latter, he was decreed to the Inheritance of one of the largest Estates in the County.
This Gentleman had, in his Youth, married a very worthy and beautiful Woman, of whom he had been extremely fond: By her he had three Children, all of whom died in their Infancy. He had likewise had the Misfortune of burying this beloved Wife herself, about five Years before the Time in which this History chuses to set out. This Loss, however great, he bore like a Man of Sense and Constancy; tho’ it must be confest, he would often talk a little whimsically on this Head: For he sometimes said, he looked on himself as still married, and considered his Wife as only gone a little before him a Journey which he should most certainly, sooner or later, take after her; and that he had not the least Doubt of meeting her again, in a Place where he should never part with her more. Sentiments for which his Sense was arraigned by one Part of his Neighbours, his Religion by a second, and his Sincerity by a third.
He now lived, for the most Part, retired in the Country, with one Sister, for whom he had a very tender Affection. This Lady was now somewhat past the Age of 30, an Æra, at which, in the Opinion of the Malicious, the Title of Old Maid may, with no Impropriety, be assumed. She was of that Species of Women, whom you commend rather for good Qualities than Beauty, and who are generally called by their own Sex, very good Sort of Women—as good a Sort of Woman, Madam, as you would wish to know. Indeed she was so far from regretting Want of Beauty, that she never mentioned that Perfection (if it can be called one) without Contempt; and would often thank God she was not as handsome as Miss such a one, whom perhaps Beauty had led into Errors, which she might have otherwise avoided. Miss Bridget Allworthy (for that was the Name of this Lady) very rightly conceived the Charms of Person in a Woman to be no better than Snares for herself, as well as for others; and yet so discreet was she in her Conduct, that her Prudence was as much on the Guard, as if she had all the Snares to apprehend which were ever laid for her whole Sex. Indeed, I have observed (tho’ it may seem unaccountable to the Reader) that this Guard of Prudence, like the Trained Bands,1 is always readiest to go on Duty where there is the least Danger. It often basely and cowardly deserts those Paragons for whom the Men are all wishing, sighing, dying, and spreading every Net in their Power; and constantly attends at the Heels of that higher Order of Women, for whom the other Sex have a more distant and awful Respect, and whom (from Despair, I suppose, of Success) they never venture to attack.
Reader, I think proper, before we proceed any farther together, to acquaint thee, that I intend to digress, through this whole History, as often as I see Occasion: Of which I am myself a better Judge than any pitiful Critic whatever. And here I must desire all those Critics to mind their own Business, and not to intermeddle with Affairs, or Works, which no ways concern them: For, till they produce the Authority by which they are constituted Judges, I shall plead to their Jurisdiction.
CHAPTER III.
An odd Accident which befel Mr. Allworthy, at his
Return home. The decent Behaviour of Mrs. Deborah
Wilkins, with some proper Animadversions
on Bastards.
I have told my Reader, in the preceding Chapter, that Mr. Allworthy inherited a large Fortune; that he had a good Heart, and no Family. Hence, doubtless, it will be concluded by many, that he lived like an honest Man, owed no one a Shilling, took nothing but what was his own, kept a good House, entertained his Neighbours with a hearty Welcome at his Table, and was charitable to the Poor, i.e. to those who had rather beg than work, by giving them the Offals from it; that he died immensely rich, and built an Hospital.
And true it is, that he did many of these Things; but, had he done nothing more, I should have left him to have recorded his own Merit on some fair Free-Stone over the Door of that Hospital.1 Matters of a much more extraordinary Kind are to be the Subject of this History, or I should grossly mispend my Time in writing so voluminous a Work; and you, my sagacious Friend, might, w
ith equal Profit and Pleasure, travel through some Pages, which certain droll Authors have been facetiously pleased to call The History of England.2
Mr. Allworthy had been absent a full Quarter of a Year in London, on some very particular Business, though I know not what it was; but judge of its Importance, by its having detained him so long from home, whence he had not been absent a Month at a Time during the Space of many Years. He came to his House very late in the Evening, and after a short Supper with his Sister, retired much fatigued to his Chamber. Here, having spent some Minutes on his Knees, a Custom which he never broke through on any Account, he was preparing to step into Bed, when, upon opening the Cloaths, to his great Surprize, he beheld an Infant, wrapt up in some coarse Linen, in a sweet and profound Sleep, between his Sheets. He stood some Time lost in Astonishment at this Sight; but, as Good-nature had always the Ascendant in his Mind, he soon began to be touched with Sentiments of Compassion for the little Wretch before him. He then rang his Bell, and ordered an elderly Woman Servant to rise immediately and come to him, and in the mean Time was so eager in contemplating the Beauty of Innocence, appearing in those lively Colours with which Infancy and Sleep always display it, that his Thoughts were too much engaged to reflect that he was in his Shirt, when the Matron came in. She had indeed given her Master sufficient Time to dress himself; for out of Respect to him, and Regard to Decency, she had spent many Minutes in adjusting her Hair at the Looking-glass, notwithstanding all the Hurry in which she had been summoned by the Servant, and tho’ her Master, for ought she knew, lay expiring in an Apoplexy or in some other Fit.
The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics) Page 8
