THE

HISTORY

OF A

FOUNDLING.

W

E are now, reader, arrived at the laft ftage of our long journey. As we have, therefore, travelled together through fo many pages, let us behave to one another like fellow-travellers in a ftage coach, who have paffed feveral days in the company of each other; and who, notwithstanding any bickerings or little animofities which may have occurred on the road, generally make all up at laft, and mount, for the last time, into their vehicle with chearfulness and good humour; fince after this one ftage, it may poffibly happen to us, as it commonly happens to them, never to meet more.

As I have here taken up this fimile, give me leave to carry it a little farther. I intend then, in this laft book, to imitate the good company I have mentioned in their laft journey. Now, it is well known, that all jokes and raillery are at this time laid afide; whatever characters any of the paffengers have for the jeft-fake personated on the road, are now thrown off, and the converfation is ufually plain and ferious.

In the fame manner, if I have now and then, in the courfe of this work, indulged any pleafantry for thy entertainment, I shall here lay it down. The variety of

matter, indeed, which I fhall be obliged to cram into this book, will afford no room for any of thofe ludicrous obfervations which I have elsewhere made, and which may fometimes, perhaps, have prevented thee from taking a nap when it was beginning to fteal upon thee. In this lat book thou wilt find nothing (or at moft very little) of that nature. All will be plain narrative only; and, indeed, when thou haft perufed the many great events which this book will produce, thou wilt think the number of pages contained in it, fcarce fufficient to tell the ftory.

And now, my friend, I take this opportunity (as I fhall have no other) of heartily wishing thee well. If I have been an entertaining companion to thee, I promife thee it is what I have defired. If in any thing I have offended it was really without any intention. Some things perhaps here faid may have hit thee or thy friends; but I do moft folemnly declare they were not pointed at thee or them. 1 queftion not but thou hast been told, among other ftories of me, that thou waft to travel with a very fcurrilous fellow: but whoever told thee fo, did me an injury. No man detefts and defpifes fcurrility more than myfelf; nor hath any man more reafon; for none hath ever been treated with more and what is a very fevere fate, I have had fome of the abufive writings of thofe very men fathered upon me, who in other of their works have abused me themselves with the utmost virulence.

:

All these works, however, I am well convinced, will be dead long before this page will offer itself to thy perufal for however fhort the period may be of my own performances, they will moft probably outlive their own infirm author, and the weakly productions of his abufive. cotemporaries.

CHA P. II.

Containing a very tragical incident.

WHILE Jones was employed in those unpleasant me

ditations, with which we left him tormenting himfelf, Partridge came ftumbling into the room with his face paler than afhes, his eyes fixed in his head, his hair ftanding an end, and every limb trembling. In short,

he looked as he would have done had he feen a spectre, or had he indeed been a spectre himself.

Jones, who was little fubject to fear, could not avoid being fomewhat fhocked at this fudden appearance. He did indeed himfelf change colour, and his voice a little faultered, while he asked him what was the matter.

I hope, Sir,' faid Partridge, you will not be angry • with me. Indeed I did not liften, but I was obliged to ftay in the outward room. I am fure I wish I had been a hundred miles off, rather than have heard what I have heard.' · Why, what is the matter?' faid Jones. The matter, Sir? O good Heaven!' answered Partridge, was that woman who is juft gone out, the woman who was with you at Upton? She was, Partridge,' cries Jones. And did you really, Sir, go to bed with that woman?" faid he trembling.I am afraid what paffed between us is no fecret,' faid Jones. -Nay, but pray, Sir, for Heaven's fake, Sir, anfwer me,' cries Partridge. You know I did,' cries Jones. Why then the Lord have mercy upon your foul, and forgive you,' cries Partridge; but as fure I ftand here alive, you have been a-bed with your own • mother.'

as

Upon these words, Jones became in a moment a greater picture of horror than Partridge himself. He was indeed, for fome time ftruck dumb with amazement, and both ftood ftaring wildly at each other. At last his words found way, and in an interrupted voice he said, How! how! What's this you tell me?' • Nay, Sir,' cries Partridge, I have not breath enough left to • tell you now--but what I have faid is moft certainly true.That woman who now went out is your own • mother. How unlucky was it for you, Sir, that I did not happen to fee her at that time, to have prevented it! Sure the devil himself must have contrived to bring about this wickednefs.'

6

But

Sure,' cries Jones, Fortune will never have done with me, till fhe hath driven me to distraction. why do I blame Fortune? I am myself the cause of all my mifery. All the dreadful mifchiefs which have befallen me, are the confequences only of my own folly and vice. What thou haft told me, Partridge, hath

almost deprived me of my fenfes. And was Mrs Waters then-But why do I afk? for thou must certainly • know her. If thou haft any affection for me; nay, if thou haft any pity, let me befeech thee to fetch this • miferable woman back again to me. O good Heavens ! Inceft-with a mother! To what am I referved? He then fell into the most violent and frantic agonies of grief and despair, in which Partridge declared he would not leave him but at laft having vented the first torrent of paffion, he came a little to himself; and then, having acquainted Partridge that he would find this wretched woman in the fame house where the wounded gentleman was lodged, he dispatched him in queft of her.

If the reader will pleafe to refresh his memory, by turning to the scene at Upton in the ninth book, he will be apt to admire the many ftrange accidents which unfortunately prevented any interview between Partridge and Mrs Waters, when the fpent a whole day there with Mr Jones. Inftances of this kind we may frequently obferve in life, where the greatest events are produced by a nice train of little circumstances; and more than one example of this may be discovered by the accurate eye, in this our history.

After a fruitlefs fearch of two or three hours, Partridge returned back to his master, without having feen Mrs Waters. Jones, who was in a ftate of defperation at his delay, was almost raving mad when he brought him this account. He was no long however in this condition before he received the following letter.

• SIR,

S INCE I left you, I have feen a gentleman, from whom I have learnt fomething concerning you, which greatly furprifes and affects me; but as I have not at prefent leisure to communicate a matter of fuch high importance, you muft fufpend your curiofity till our next meeting, which fhall be the first moment I am able to fee you. O Mr Jones, little did I think, when I paffed that happy day at Upton, the reflection upon which is like to embitter all my future life, who it was

to whom I owed fuch perfect happiness. be ever fincerely your unfortunate.

Believe me to

• J. WATERS.

P. S. I would have you comfort yourself as much as poffible; for Mr Fitzpatrick is in no manner of danfo that, whatever other grievous crimes you may have to repent of, the guilt of blood is not among the

ger;

• number.'

Jones having received the letter, let it drop, (for he was unable to hold it, and indeed had scarce the ufe of any one of his faculties). Partridge took it up, and, having received confent by filence, read it likewife; nor had it upon him a lefs fenfible effect. The pencil, and not the pen, fhould defcribe the horrors which appeared in both their countenances. While they both remained fpeechless, the turnkey entered the room, and, without taking any notice of what fufficiently discovered itself in the faces of them both, acquainted Jones that a man without defired to fpeak with him. This perfon was presently introduced, and was no other than Black George.

As fights of horror were not fo ufual to George as they were to the turnkey, he inftantly faw the great diforder which appeared in the face of Jones. This he imputed to the accident that had happened, which was reported in the very worst light in Mr Weftern's family; he concluded therefore that the gentleman was dead, and that Mr Jones was in a fair way of coming to a fhameful end. A thought which gave him much uneafinels; for George was of a compaffionate difpofition, and, notwithflanding a fmall breach of friendship, which he had been over-tempted to commit, was, in the main, not infenfible of the obligations he had formerly received from Mr Jones.

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The poor fellow therefore fcarce refrained from a tear at the prefent fight. He told Jones he was heartily forry for his misfortunes, and begged him to confider, if he could be of any manner of fervice. Perhaps, Sir,' faid he, you may want a little matter of money upon this occafion; if you do, Sir, what little I have is heartily at your fervice.'