charms; yet I have always observed, at the approach of consummate beauty, that these more solid charms only shine with that kind of lustre which the stars have after the rising of the sun.

CHAPTER X.

The consequence of the preceding visit. MR. Fitzpatrick having received the letter before mentioned from Mrs. Western, and being by that means acquainted with the place to which his wife was retired, returned directly to Bath, and thence the day after set forward to London.

When Jones had finished his exclamations, many of which would have become the mouth of Oroöndates himself, Mrs. Fitzpatrick heaved a deep sigh, and taking her eyes off from Jones, on whom they had The reader hath been already often inbeen some time fixed, and dropping them on formed of the jealous temper of this gentlethe ground, she cried, 'Indeed, Mr. Jones, man. He may likewise be pleased to reI pity you; but it is the curse of such ten-member the suspicion which he had conderness to be thrown away on those who ceived of Mr. Jones at Upton, upon his are insensible of it. I know my cousin finding him in the room with Mrs. Waters; better than you, Mr. Jones; and I must say, and though sufficient reasons had afterany woman that makes no return to such a wards appeared entirely to clear up that passion, and such a person, is unworthy of suspicion, yet now the reading so handboth.' some a character of Mr. Jones from his wife, caused him to reflect, that she likewise was in the inn at the same time; and jumbled together such a confusion of circumstances, in a head which was naturally none of the clearest, that the whole produced that green-eyed monster mentioned by Shakspeare in his tragedy of Othello.

'Sure, madam,' said Jones, 'you can't mean- Mean!' cries Mrs. Fitzpatrick, 'I know not what I mean: there is something, I think, in true tenderness, bewitching: few women ever meet with it in men, and fewer still know how to value it when they do. I never heard such truly noble sentiments; and I can't tell how it is, but you force one to believe you. Sure she must be the most contemptible of women, who can overlook such merit.

The manner and look with which all this was spoke, infused a suspicion into Jones, which we don't care to convey in direct words to the reader. Instead of making any answer, he said, 'I am afraid, madam, I have made too tiresome a visit;' and offered to take his leave.

'Not at all, sir,' answered Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Indeed I pity you, Mr. Jones; indeed I do but if you are going, consider of the scheme I have mentioned. I am convinced you will approve it, and let me see you again as soon as you can. Tomorrow morning, if you will, or at least some time to-morrow. I shall be at home all day.'

And now, as he was inquiring in the street after his wife, and had just received directions to the door, unfortunately Mr. Jones was issuing from it.

Fitzpatrick did not yet recollect the face of Jones: however, seeing a young welldressed fellow coming from his wife, he made directly up to him, and asked him what he had been doing in that house? 'For I am sure,' said he, you must have been in it, as I saw you come out of it.'

6

Jones answered very modestly, 'That he had been visiting a lady there.' To which Fitzpatrick replied, What business have you with the lady? Upon which Jones, who now perfectly remembered the voice, features, and indeed coat, of the gentleman, cried out-Ha, my good friend! give me your hand; I hope there is no ill blood remaining between us, upon a small mistake which happened so long ago.'

Jones, then, after many expressions of thanks, very respectfully retired; nor could Upon my soul, sir,' said Fitzpatrick, 'I Mrs. Fitzpatrick forbear making him a pre- don't know your name, nor your face.'sent of a look at parting, by which, if heIndeed, sir,' said Jones, 'neither have I had understood nothing, he must have had no understanding in the language of the eyes. In reality, it confirmed his resolution of returning to her no more; for faulty as he hath hitherto appeared in this history, his whole thoughts were now so confined to his Sophia, that I believe no woman upon earth could have now drawn him into an act of inconstancy.

Fortune, however, who was not his friend, resolved, as he intended to give her no second opportunity, to make the best of this; and accordingly produced the tragical incident which we are now in sorrowful notes to record.

the pleasure of knowing your name; but your face I very well remember to have seen before, at Upton, where a foolish quarrel happened between us, which, if it is not made up yet, we will now make up over a bottle.'

'At Upton!' cried the other: Ha! upon my soul, I believe your name is Jones.'

Indeed,' answered he, 'it is.'-'0! upon my soul,' cries Fitzpatrick, you are the very man I wanted to meet. Upon my soul I will drink a bottle with you presently; but first I will give you a great knock over the pate. There is for you, you rascal, Upon my soul, if you do not give me satis

faction for that blow, I will give you another.' He answered, 'Wherever you please: I am

And then drawing his sword, put himself in a posture of defence, which was the only science he understood.

Jones was a little staggered by the blow, which came somewhat unexpectedly; but presently recovering himself, he also drew, and though he understood nothing of fencing, pressed on so boldly upon Fitzpatrick, that he beat down his guard, and sheathed one half of his sword in the body of the said gentleman, who had no sooner received it, than he stepped backwards, dropped the point of his sword, and leaning upon it, cried, 'I have satisfaction enough: I am a dead man.'

'I hope not,' cries Jones; but whatever be the consequence, you must be sensible you have drawn it upon yourself.' At this instant a number of fellows rushed in, and seized Jones, who told them he should make no resistance, and begged some of them at least would take care of the wounded gentleman.

indifferent as to what happens to me: for though I am convinced I am not guilty of murder in the eye of the law, yet the weight of blood I find intolerable upon my mind.'

Jones was now conducted before the justice, where the surgeon who dressed Mr. Fitzpatrick, appeared, and deposed, that he believed the wound to be mortal; upon which the prisoner was committed to the Gatehouse. It was very late at night, so that Jones would not send for Partridge till the next morning; and as he never shut his eyes till seven, so it was near twelve before the poor fellow, who was greatly frightened at not hearing from his master so long, received a message, which almost deprived him of his being, when he heard it.

He went to the Gatehouse with trembling knees and a beating heart, and was no sooner arrived in the presence of Jones, than he lamented the misfortune that had befallen him, with many tears, looking all the while frequently about him in great terror: for as the news now arrived that Mr. Fitzpatrick was dead, the poor fellow apprehended every minute that his ghost would enter the room. At last, he delivered him a letter, which he had like to have forgot, and which came from Sophia, by the hands of Black George.

Jones presently despatched every one out of the room, and having eagerly broke open the letter, read as follows:

Ay,' cries one of the fellows, the wounded gentleman will be taken care enough of; for I suppose he hath not many hours to live. As for you, sir, you have a month at least good yet.'-, D-n me, Jack,' said another, he hath prevented his voyage; he's bound to another port now!' and many other such jests was our poor Jones made the subject of, by these fellows, who were indeed the gang employed by Lord Fellamar, and had dogged him into the house of Mrs. Fitzpatrick, waiting for him at the corner of the street. when this unfortunate accident happened. The officer who commanded this gang, very wisely concluded, that his business your own hand; and what more surprises was now to deliver his prisoner into theme, is, that it is dated at the very time hands of the civil magistrate. He ordered when you would have me imagine you was under such concern on my account. I leave him, therefore, to be carried to a publichouse, where, having sent for a constable, is, that your name may never more be mento comment on this fact. All I desire you he delivered him to his custody.

The constable seeing Mr. Jones very well dressed, and hearing that the accident had happened in a duel, treated his prisoner with great civility, and, at his request, despatched a messenger to inquire after the wounded gentleman, who was now at a tavern under the surgeon's hands. The report brought back was, that the wound was certainly mortal, and there were no hopes of life. Upon which the constable informed Jones, that he must go before a justice.

"You owe the hearing from me again to an accident, which I own surprises me. My aunt hath just now shown me a letter from proposal of marriage. I am convinced it is you to Lady Bellaston, which contains a

tioned to

S. W."

Of the present situation of Mr. Jones's mind, and of the pangs with which he was now tormented, we cannot give the reader a better idea, than by saying, his misery was such, that even Thwackum would almost have pitied him. But bad as it is, we shall at present leave him in it, as his good genius, (if he really had any,) seems to have done. And here we put an end to the sixteenth book of our history.

BOOK XVII.

CHAPTER I.

CONTAINING THREE DAYS.

than forfeit our integrity, or shock the faith of our reader.

In this the ancients had a great advantage over the moderns. Their mythology, which was at that time more firmly believed by the vulgar than any religion is at present, gave them always an opportunity ties were always ready at the writer's of delivering a favourite hero. Their deielbow, to execute any of his purposes; and the more extraordinary the invention was, the greater was the surprise and delight of the credulous reader. Those writers could with greater ease have conveyed a hero from one country to another, nay, from one back again, than a poor circumscribed world to another, and have brought him modern can deliver him from a jail.

Containing a portion of introductory writing. WHEN a comic writer hath made his principal characters as happy as he can, or when a tragic writer hath brought them to the highest pitch of human misery, they both conclude their business to be done, and that their work is come to a period. Had we been of the tragic complexion, the reader must now allow we were nearly arrived at this period, since it would be difficult for the devil, or any of his representatives on earth, to have contrived much greater torments for poor Jones, than those in which we left him in the last chapter; and as for Sophia, a good-natured woman would hardly wish more uneasiness to a rival, than what she must at present be sup-advantage in writing their tales from the The Arabians and Persians had an equal posed to feel. What then remains to complete the tragedy, but a murder or two, and

a few moral sentences.

But to bring our favourites out of their present anguish and distress, and to land them at last on the shore of happiness, seems a much harder task; a task indeed so hard, that we do not undertake to execute it. In regard to Sophia, it is more than probable, that we shall somewhere or other provide a good husband for her in the end, either Blifil, or my lord, or somebody else; but as to poor Jones, such are the calamities in which he is at present involved, owing to his imprudence, by which, if a man doth not become a felon to the

Genii and Fairies, which they believe in as an article of their faith, upon the authority of the Koran itself. But we have none of these helps. To natural means alone are we confined: let us try, therefore, what by these means may be done for poor Jones'; though, to confess the truth, something whispers me in the ear, that he doth not yet know the worst of his fortune; and that a more shocking piece of news than any he hath yet heard, remains for him in the unopened leaves of fate.

CHAPTER II.

MR. ALLWORTHY and Mrs. Miller were just sat down to breakfast, when Blifil, who had gone out very early that morning, returned to make one of the company.

world, he is at least a felo de se; so desti- The generous and grateful behaviour of Mrs. Miller. tute is he now of friends, and so persecuted by enemies, that we almost despair of bringing him to any good; and if our reader delights in seeing executions, I think he ought not to lose any time in taking a first row at Tyburn. He had not been long seated, before he This I faithfully promise, that notwith-began as follows: Good Lord! my dear standing any affection which we may be uncle, what do you think hath happened? supposed to have for this rogue, whom we I vow, I am afraid of telling it you, for fear have unfortunately made our hero, we will of shocking you with the remembrance of lend him none of that supernatural assis- ever having shown any kindness to such a tance with which we are intrusted, upon | villain.'-'What is the matter, child,' said condition that we use it only on very im- the uncle: 'I fear I have shown kindness portant occasions. If he doth not, there-in my life to the unworthy more than once. fore, find some natural means of fairly extricating himself from all his distresses, we will do no violence to the truth and dignity of history for his sake; for we had rather relate that he was hanged at Tyburn, (which may very probably be the case,)

But charity doth not adopt the vices of its objects.'-'O, sir!' returned Blifil, it is not without the secret direction of Providence that you mention the word adoption. Your adopted son, sir, that Jones, that wretch whom you nourished to your bosom, hath

proved one of the greatest villains upon possible, to heighten my resentment against earth.'-By all that's sacred, 'tis false,' him: for I must tell you, Mrs. Miller, the cries Mrs. Miller. 'Mr. Jones is no villain. young man who now stands before you He is one of the worthiest creatures breath-hath ever been the warmest advocate for ing; and if any other person had called him the ungrateful wretch whose cause you villain, I would have thrown all this boiling espouse. This, I think, when you hear it water in his face.' Mr. Allworthy looked from my own mouth, will make you wonvery much amazed at this behaviour. But der at so much baseness and ingratitude.' she did not give him leave to speak, before 'You are deceived, sir,' answered Mrs. turning to him, she cried, 'I hope you will Miller: 'if they were the last words which not be angry with me; I would not offend were to issue from my lips, I would say you you, sir, for the world; but indeed I could were deceived; and I once more repeat it, not bear to hear him called so.'-'I must the Lord forgive those who have deceived own, madam,' said Allworthy, very gravely, you! I do not pretend to say the young 'I am a little surprised to hear you so man is without faults; but they are all the warmly defend a fellow you do not know.' faults of wildness and of youth; faults which 'O! I do know him, Mr. Allworthy,' said he may, nay, which I am certain he will reshe; indeed I do; I should be the most linquish; and if he should not, they are ungrateful of all wretches if I denied it. O! vastly overbalanced by one of the most huhe hath preserved me and my little family: mane, tender, honest hearts, that ever man we have all reason to bless him while we was blessed with.' live. And I pray Heaven to bless him, and 'Indeed, Mrs. Miller,' said Allworthy, turn the hearts of his malicious enemies. I had this been related of you, I should not know, I find, I see he hath such.'-You have believed it.'-'Indeed, sir,' answered surprise me, madam, still more,' said All-she, 'you will believe every thing I have worthy; sure you must mean some other. it is impossible you should have any such obligations to the man my nephew mentions.Too surely,' answered she; I have obligations to him of the greatest and tenderest kind. He hath been the preserver of me and mine. Believe me, sir, he hath been abused, grossly abused to you; I know he hath; or you, whom I know to be 'Well, madam,' said Allworthy, 'I shall all goodness and honour, would not, after be very glad to hear any good excuse for a the many kind and tender things I have behaviour, which, I must confess, I think, heard you say of this poor helpless child, wants an excuse. And now, madam, will have so disdainfully called him fellow! In-you be pleased to let my nephew proceed in deed, my best of friends, he deserves a kinder appellation from you, had you heard the good, the kind, the grateful things which I have heard him utter of you. He never mentions your name but with a sort of adoration. In this very room I have seen him on his knees imploring all the blessings of Heaven upon your head. I do not love that child there better than he loves you.'

said, I am sure you will; and when you have heard the story which I shall tell you, (for I will tell you all,) you will be so far from being offended, that you will own, (I know your justice so well,) that I must have been the most despicable and most ungrate ful of wretches, if I had acted any other part than I have.'

his story without interruption. He would not have introduced a matter of slight consequence with such a preface. Perhaps even this story will cure you of your mistake.'

Mrs. Miller gave tokens of submission, and then Mr. Blifil began thus: 'I am sure, sir, if you don't think proper to resent the ill usage of Mrs. Miller, I shall easily forgive what affects me only. I think your 'I see, sir, now,' said Blifil, with one of goodness hath not deserved this indignity those grinning sneers with which the devil at her hands.'-' Well, child,' said Allwormarks his best beloved, 'Mrs. Miller really thy, but what is this new instance? What doth know him. I suppose you will find hath he done of late?'-'What,' cries Blifil, she is not the only one of your acquaint-notwithstanding all Mrs. Miller hath said, ance to whom he hath exposed you. As I am very sorry to relate, and what you for my character, I perceive, by some hints should never have heard from me, had it not she hath thrown out, he hath been very free been a matter impossible to conceal from with it, but I forgive him. And the Lord the whole world. In short, he hath killed a forgive you, sir,' says Mrs. Miller: we man: I will not say murdered, for perhaps have all sins enough to stand in need of it may not be so construed in law, and I his forgiveness.' hope the best for his sake.'

Upon my word, Mrs. Miller,' said All- Allworthy looked shocked, and blessed worthy, 'I do not take this behaviour of himself; and then turning to Mrs. Miller, he yours to my nephew kindly; and I do as- cried, 'Well, madam, what say you now?' sure you, as any reflections which you cast 'Why, I say, sir,' answered she, 'that I upon him must come only from that wick-never was more concerned at any thing in edest of men, they only serve, if that were my life; but, if the fact be true, I am con

vinced the man, whoever he is, was in | 'Pray, my good neighbour,' said Allfault. Heaven knows there are many vil-worthy, 'drop your metaphors, and speak lains in this town, who make it their busi-a little plainer.Why then,' says the ness to provoke young gentlemen. No- squire, to tell you plainly, we have been thing but the greatest provocation could all this time afraid of a son of a whore, of have tempted him; for of all the gentlemen a bastard of somebody's, I don't know I ever had in my house, I never saw one so who's, not I—And now here is a confounded gentle, or so sweet-tempered. He was be- son of a whore of a lord, who may be a loved by every one in the house, and every bastard too for what I know or care, for he one who came near it.' shall never have a daughter of mine by my consent. They have beggared the nation, but they shall never beggar me. My land shall never be sent over to Hanover."

While she was thus running on, a violent knocking at the door interrupted their conversation, and prevented her from proceeding further, or from receiving any answer; for as she concluded this was a visiter to Mr. Allworthy, she hastily retired, taking with her her little girl, whose eyes were all over blubbered at the melancholy news she heard of Jones, who used to call her his little wife, and not only gave her many playthings, but spent whole hours in playing with her himself.

Some readers may, perhaps, be pleased with these minute circumstances, in relating of which we follow the example of Plutarch, one of the best of our brother historians; and others, to whom they may appear trivial, will, we hope, at least pardon them, as we are never prolix on such occasions.

CHAPTER III.

The arrival of Mr. Western, with some matters concerning the paternal authority.

'You surprise me much, my good friend,' said Allworthy. Why, zounds! I am surprised myself!' answered the squire. I went to zee sister Western last night, according to her own appointment, and there I was had into a whole room full of women. There was my Lady Bellaston, and my Lady Betty, and my Lady Catharine, and my Lady I don't know who; d-n me, if ever you catch me among such a kennel of hoop-petticoat b-'s. D-n me, I'd rather be run by iny own dogs, as one Acton was; that the story-book says was turned into a hare, and his own dogs killed un, and eat un. Od-rabbit it, no mortal was ever run in such a manner; it I dogged one way, one had me; if I offered to clap back, another snapped me. O! certainly one of the greatest matches in England, says one cousin,' (here he attempted to mimic them:) A very advantageous offer indeed,' cries another cousin, MRS. Miller had not long left the room, (for you must know they all be my cousins, when Mr. Western entered; but not be- tho'fI never zeed half o'um before.) Surely, fore a small wrangling bout had passed be- says that fat a-se b-, my Lady Bellastween him and his chairmen; for the fel-ton, "Cousin, you must be out of your lows, who had taken up their burden at the Hercules Pillars, had conceived no hopes of having any future good customer in the squire; and they were moreover farther encouraged by his generosity, (for he had given them of his own accord sixpence more than their fare ;) they therefore very boldly demanded another shilling, which so provoked the squire, that he not only bestowed many hearty curses on them at the door, but retained his anger after he came into the room; swearing that all the Londoners were like the court, and thought of nothing but plundering country gentlemen. 'D-n me,' says he, if I won't walk in the rain rather than get into one of their hand-barrows again. They have jolted me more in a mile than Brown Bess would in a long fox-chase.'

When his wrath on this occasion was a little appeased, he resumed the same passionate tone on another. "There,' says he, there is fine business forwards now. The hounds have changed at last, and when we imagined we had a fox to deal with, od-rat it, it turns out to be a badger at last.'

wits to think of refusing such an offer."

'Now I begin to understand,' says Allworthy, 'some person hath made proposals to Miss Western, which the ladies of the family approve, but are not to your liking.'

'My liking!' said Western; how the devil should it? I tell you it is a lord, and those are always volks whom you know I always resolved to have nothing to do with. Did unt I refuse a matter of vorty years purchase now for a bit of land, which one o'um had a mind to put into a park, only because I would have no dealings with lords; and dost think I would marry my daughter zu? Besides, ben't I engaged to you, and did I ever go off any bargain when I had promised?

'As to that point, neighbour,' said Allworthy, I entirely release you from any engagement. No contract can be binding between parties who have not a full power to make it at the time, nor ever afterwards acquire the power of fulfilling it.'

Slud! then,' answered Western, 'I tell you I have power, and I will fulfil it. Come along with me directly to Doctors Com