Chapter i.
A farewel to the reader.
We are now, reader, arrived at the last stage of our long journey. Aswe have, therefore, travelled together through so many pages, let usbehave to one another like fellow-travellers in a stage coach, whohave passed several days in the company of each other; and who,notwithstanding any bickerings or little animosities which may haveoccurred on the road, generally make all up at last, and mount, forthe last time, into their vehicle with chearfulness and good humour;since after this one stage, it may possibly happen to us, as itcommonly happens to them, never to meet more.
As I have here taken up this simile, give me leave to carry it alittle farther. I intend, then, in this last book, to imitate the goodcompany I have mentioned in their last journey. Now, it is well knownthat all jokes and raillery are at this time laid aside; whatevercharacters any of the passengers have for the jest-sake personated onthe road are now thrown off, and the conversation is usually plain andserious.
In the same manner, if I have now and then, in the course of thiswork, indulged any pleasantry for thy entertainment, I shall here layit down. The variety of matter, indeed, which I shall be obliged tocram into this book, will afford no room for any of those ludicrousobservations which I have elsewhere made, and which may sometimes,perhaps, have prevented thee from taking a nap when it was beginningto steal upon thee. In this last book thou wilt find nothing (or atmost very little) of that nature. All will be plain narrative only;and, indeed, when thou hast perused the many great events which thisbook will produce, thou wilt think the number of pages contained in itscarce sufficient to tell the story.
And now, my friend, I take this opportunity (as I shall have no other)of heartily wishing thee well. If I have been an entertainingcompanion to thee, I promise thee it is what I have desired. If inanything I have offended, it was really without any intention. Somethings, perhaps, here said, may have hit thee or thy friends; but I domost solemnly declare they were not pointed at thee or them. Iquestion not but thou hast been told, among other stories of me, thatthou wast to travel with a very scurrilous fellow; but whoever toldthee so did me an injury. No man detests and despises scurrility morethan myself; nor hath any man more reason; for none hath ever beentreated with more; and what is a very severe fate, I have had some ofthe abusive writings of those very men fathered upon me, who, in otherof their works, have abused me themselves with the utmost virulence.
All these works, however, I am well convinced, will be dead longbefore this page shall offer itself to thy perusal; for however shortthe period may be of my own performances, they will most probablyoutlive their own infirm author, and the weakly productions of hisabusive contemporaries.
History of Tom Jones, a Foundling Page 196
