good woman, whose spirits were all up in arms in the cause of her friend. He was not, however, without some suspicions which were near akin to hers. When Blifil came into the room, he asked him with a very serious countenance, and with a less friendly look than he had ever before given him, whether he knew any thing of Mr Dowling's having seen any of the persons who were present at the duel between Jones and another gentleman?

There is nothing so dangerous as a question which comes by surprise on a man, whose business it is to conceal truth, or to defend falsehood. For which reason those worthy person ages, whose noble office it is to save the lives of their fellow-creatures at the Old-Bailey, take the utmost care, by frequent previous examination, to divine every question which may be asked their clients on the day of trial, that they may be supplied with proper and ready answers, which the most fertile invention cannot supply in an instant. Besides, the sudden and violent impulse on the blood, occasioned by these surprises, causes frequently such an alteration in the countenance, that the man is obliged to give evidence against himself. And such, indeed, were the alterations which the countenance of Blifil underwent from this sudden question, that we can scarce blame the eagerness of Mrs Miller, who immediately cried out, "Guilty, upon my honour! guilty, upon my soul !"

Mr Allworthy sharply rebuked her for this impetuosity; and then turning to Blifil, who seemed sinking into the earth, he said, " Why do you hesitate, sir, at giving me an answer? You certainly must have employed him; for he would not, of his own accord, I believe, have undertaken such an errand, and especially without acquainting me."

Blifil then answered, "I own, sir, I have been guilty of an offence, yet may I hope your pardon."-"My pardon!" said Allworthy very angrily.-"Nay, sir," answered Blifil, "I knew you would be offended; yet surely my dear uncle will forgive the effects of the most amiable of human weaknesses. Compassion for those who do not deserve it, I own, is a crime; and yet it is a crime from which you yourself are not entirely free. I know I have been guilty of it in more than one instance to this very person; and I will own I did send Mr Dowling, not on a vain and fruitless enquiry, but to discover the witnesses, and to endeavour to soften their evidence. This, sir, is the truth; which, though I intended to conceal from you, I will not deny." "I confess," said Nightingale, "this is the light in which it appeared to me from the gentleman's behaviour."

"Now, madam," said Allworthy, "I believe you will, once in your life, own you have entertained a wrong suspicion, and are not so angry with my nephew as you was.'

"

Mrs Miller was silent; for though she could not so hastily be pleased with Blifil, whom she looked upon to have been the ruin of Jones, yet in this particular instance he had imposed upon her as well as upon the rest; so entirely had the devil stood his friend. And, indeed, I look upon the vulgar observation, "That the devil often deserts his friends, and leaves them in the lurch," to be a great abuse on that gentleman's character. Perhaps he may sometimes desert those who are only his cup acquaintance, or who, at most, are but half his; but he generally stands by those who are thoroughly his servants, and helps them off in all extremities, till their bargain expires.

As a conquered rebellion strengthens a government, or as health is more perfectly established by recovery from some diseases; so anger, when removed, often gives new life to affection. This was the case of Mr Allworthy; for Blifil having wiped off the greater suspicion, the lesser, which had been raised by Square's letter, sunk of course, and was forgotten; and Thwackum, with whom he was greatly offended, bore alone all the reflections which Square had cast on the enemies of Jones.

As for that young man, the resentment of Mr Allworthy began more and more to abate towards him. He told Blifil, he did not only forgive the extraordinary efforts of his good-nature, but would give him the pleasure of following his example. Then, turning to Mrs Miller, with a smile which would have become an angel, he cried, "What say you, madam; shall we take a hackney-coach, and all of us together pay a visit to your friend? I promise you it is not the first visit I have made in a prison."

Every reader, I believe, will be able to answer for the worthy woman; but they must have a great deal of good-nature, and be well acquainted with friendship, who can feel what she felt on this occasion. Few, I hope, are capable of feeling what now past in the mind of Blifil; but those who are, will acknowledge, that it was impossible for him to raise any objection to this visit. Fortune, however, or the gentleman lately mentioned above, stood his friend, and prevented his undergoing so great a shock; for at the very instant when the coach was sent for, Partridge arrived, and, having called Mrs Miller from the company, acquainted her with the dreadful accident lately come to light, and, hearing Mr Allworthy's intention, begged her to find some means of stopping him;

66

For," says he, "the matter must at all hazards be kept a secret from him; and if he should now go, he will find Mr Jones and his mother, who arrived just as I left him, lamenting over one another the horrid crime they have ignorantly committed."

The poor woman, who was almost deprived of her senses at this dreadful news, was never

less capable of invention than at present. However, as women are much readier at this than men, she bethought herself of an excuse, and returning to Allworthy, said, "I am sure, sir, you will be surprised at hearing any objection from me to the kind proposal you just now made; and yet I am afraid of the consequence of it, if carried immediately into execution. You must imagine, sir, that all the calamities which have lately befallen this poor young fellow, must have thrown him into the lowest dejection of spirits and now, sir, should we all on a sudden fling him into such a violent fit of joy, as I know your presence will occasion, it may, I am afraid, produce some fatal mischief, especially as his servant, who is without, tells me he is very far from being well."

"Is his servant without?" cries Allworthy, pray call him hither. I will ask him some questions concerning his master."

Partridge was at first afraid to appear before Mr Allworthy, but was at length persuaded, after Mrs Miller, who had often heard his whole story from his own mouth, had promised to introduce him.

Allworthy recollected Partridge the moment he came into the room, though many years had passed since he had seen him. Mrs Miller therefore might have spared here a formal oration, in which indeed she was something prolix; for the reader, I believe, may have observed already that the good woman, among other things, had a tongue always ready for the service of her friends. "And are you," said Allworthy to Partridge, "the servant of Mr Jones ?"-"I can't say, sir," answered he, "that I am regularly a servant, but I live with him, an't please your honour, at present. Non sum qualis eram, as your honour very well knows."

Mr Allworthy then asked him many questions concerning Jones, as to his health, and other matters; to all which Partridge answered, without having the least regard to what was, but considered only what he would have things appear; for a strict adherence to truth was not among the articles of this honest fellow's morality, or his religion.

During this dialogue Mr Nightingale took his leave, and presently after Mrs Miller left the room, when Allworthy likewise dispatched Blifil; for he imagined that Partridge, when alone with him, would be more explicit than before company. They were no sooner left in private together, than Allworthy began as in the following chapter.

CHAP. VI.

In which the History is farther continued.

"SURE, friend," said the good man, “you are the strangest of all human beings; not only to have suffered as you have formerly, for obstinately persisting in a falsehood, but to persist in it thus to the last, and to pass thus upon the world for the servant of your own son. What interest can you have in all this? what can be your motive?”

"I see, sir," said Partridge, falling down upon his knees, "that your honour is prepos sessed against me, and resolved not to believe any thing I say; and therefore what signifies my protestations? but yet there is One above, who knows that I am not the father of this young

man.

"

"How!" said Allworthy, "will you yet deny what you was formerly convicted of upon such unanswerable, such manifest evidence? Nay, what a confirmation is your being now found with this very man, of all which twenty years ago appeared against you! I thought you had left the country; nay, I thought you had long since been dead. In what manner did you know any thing of this young man? Where did you meet with him, unless you had kept some correspondence together? Do not deny this; for I promise you it will greatly raise your son in my opinion, to find that he hath such a sense of filial duty, as privately to support his father for so many years."

"If your honour will have patience to hear me," said Partridge, "I will tell you all.”—Being bid to go on, he proceeded thus: "When your honour conceived that displeasure against me, it ended in my ruin soon after; for I lost my little school, and the minister, thinking, I suppose, it would be agreeable to your honour, turned me out from the office of clerk, so that I had nothing to trust to but the barber's shop, which, in a country-place like that, is a poor livelihood; and when my wife died, (for till that time I had received a pension of 121. a-year from an unknown hand, which, indeed, I believe was your honour's own, for nobody that ever I heard of doth these things besides); but as I was saying, when she died, this pension forsook me; so that now, as I owed two or three small debts, which began to be troublesome to me, particularly one, which an attorney brought

between Mr Allworthy and Mrs Waters which is written in the next chapter.

CHAP. VII.

Continuation of the History.

MRS WATERS remaining a few moments silent, Mr Allworthy could not refrain from saying, "I am sorry, madam, to perceive, by what I have since heard, that you have made so very ill a use -" "Mr Allworthy," says she, interrupting him, "I know I have faults; but ingratitude to you is not one of them. I never can nor shall forget your goodness, which, I own, I have very little deserved; but be pleased to waive all upbraiding of me at present, as I have so important an affair to communicate to you concerning this young man, to whom you have given my maiden name of Jones."

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"Have I then," said Allworthy, "ignorantly punished an innocent man in the person of him who hath just left us? Was he not the father of the child?"-" Indeed, he was not," said Mrs Waters: "You may be pleased to remember, sir, I formerly told you, you should one day know; and I acknowledge myself to have been guilty of a cruel neglect in not having discovered it to you before: Indeed, I little knew how necessary it was."-" Well, madam," said Allworthy, "be pleased to proceed.""You must remember, sir," said she, a young fellow, whose name was Summer.' "Very well," cries Allworthy: "He was the son of a clergyman of great learning and virtue, for whom I had the highest friendship."-" So it appeared, sir," answered she; "for I believe you bred the young man up, and maintained him at the university; where, I think, he had finished his studies when he came to reside at your house. A finer man, I must say, the sun never shone upon; for, besides the handsomest person I ever saw, he was so genteel, and had so much wit and good breeding."-" Poor gentleman!" said Allworthy, "he was, indeed, untimely snatched away; and little did I think he had any sins of this kind to answer for; for I plainly perceive you are going to tell me, he was the father of your child."

"Indeed, sir," answered she, "he was not." "How!" said Allworthy," to what then tends all this preface?"-" To a story, sir," said she, "which I am concerned falls to my lot to unfold to you. O, sir, prepare to hear something which will surprise you; will grieve you.""Speak," said Allworthy; " I am conscious of no crime, and cannot be afraid to hear."-"Sir," said she, “that Mr Summer, the son of your friend, educated at your expence, who, after living a year in the house as if he had been your own son, died there of the small-pox, was tenderly lamented by you, and buried as if he had

been your own; that Summer, sir, was the father of this child."-" How!" said Allworthy; "you contradict yourself."-" That I do not," answered she; "he was indeed the father of this child, but not by me."-" Take care, madam," said Allworthy: "Do not, to shun the imputation of any crime, be guilty of falsehood. Remember there is One from whom you can conceal nothing, and before whose tribunal falsehood will only aggravate your guilt."-" Indeed, sir," said she, "I am not his mother; nor would I now think myself so for the world."—"I know your reason," said Allworthy, "and shall rejoice as much as you to find it otherwise; yet, you must remember, you yourself confessed it before me."-" So far what I confessed," said she, was true, that these hands conveyed the infant to your bed; conveyed it thither at the command of its mother. At her commands I afterwards owned it; and thought myself, by her generosity, nobly rewarded, both for my secrecy and my shame."-" Who could this woman be?" said Allworthy.—" Indeed, I tremble to name her," answered Mrs Waters.-" By all this preparation I am to guess that she was a relation of mine,” cried he.—“ Indeed, she was a near one." At which words Allworthy started, and she continued, "You had a sister, sir." "A sister!" repeated he, looking aghast."As there is truth in heaven," cries she," your sister was the mother of that child you found between your sheets."-" Can it be possible?" cries he: "Good heavens!" "Have patience, sir," said Mrs Waters, " and I will unfold to you the whole story. Just after your departure for London, Miss Bridget came one day to the house of my mother. She was pleased to say, she had heard an extraordinary character of me for my learning and superior understanding to all the young women there; so she was pleased to say. She then bid me come to her to the great house; where, when I attended, she employed me to read to her. She expressed great satisfaction in my reading, shewed great kindness to me, and made me many presents. At last she began to catechise me on the subject of secrecy; to which I gave her such satisfactory answers, that at last, having locked the door of her room, she took me into her closet, and then locking that door likewise, she said she should convince me of the vast reliance she had on my integrity, by communicating a secret in which her honour, and consequently her life, was concerned. She then stopped, and, after a silence of a few minutes, during which she often wiped her eyes, she inquired of me, if I thought my mother might safely be confided in. I answer ed, I would stake my life on her fidelity. She then imparted to me the great secret which laboured in her breast; and which, I believe, was delivered with more pains than she afterwards suffered in child-birth. It was then contrived. that my mother and myself only should attend

at the time, and that Mrs Wilkins should be sent out of the way, as she accordingly was, to the very furthest part of Dorsetshire, to inquire the character of a servant; for the lady had turned away her own maid near three months before, during all which time I officiated about her person upon trial, as she said, though, as she afterwards declared, I was not sufficiently handy for the place. This, and many other such things which she used to say of me, were all thrown out to prevent any suspicion which Wilkins might hereafter have, when I was to own the child; for she thought it could never be believed she would venture to hurt a young woman with whom she had entrusted such a secret. You may be assured, sir, I was well paid for all these affronts; which, together with being informed of the occasion of them, very well contented me. Indeed, the lady had a greater suspicion of Mrs Wilkins than of any other person; not that she had the least aversion to the gentlewoman, but she thought her incapable of keeping a secret, especially from you, sir: for I have often heard Miss Bridget say, that if Mrs Wilkins had committed a murder, she believed she would acquaint you with it. At last the expected day came, and Mrs Wilkins, who had been kept a week in readiness, and put off from time to time, upon some pretence or other, that she might not return too soon, was dispatched. Then the child was born, in the presence only of myself and mother, and was, by my mother, conveyed to her own house, where it was privately kept by her till the evening of your return, when I, by the command of Miss Bridget, conveyed it into the bed where you found it. And all suspicions were afterwards laid asleep by the artful conduct of your sister, in pretending illwill to the boy; and that any regard she shewed him was out of mere complaisance to you."

sister to carry this secret with her out of the world."

"I promise you, sir," said Mrs Waters, "she always professed a contrary intention, and frequently told me she intended one day to communicate it to you. She said, indeed, she was highly rejoiced that her plot had succeeded so well, and that you had, of your own accord, taken such a fancy to the child, that it was yet unnecessary to make any express declaration. Oh! sir, had that lady lived to have seen this poor young man turned like a vagabond from your house; nay, sir, could she have lived to hear that you had yourself employed a lawyer to prosecute him for a murder of which he was not guilty?-Forgive me, Mr Allworthy, I must say it was unkind. Indeed you have been abused; he never deserved it of you."-"Indeed, madam," said Allworthy, "I have been abused by the person, whoever he was, that told you so."

Nay, sir," said she, "I would not be mistaken, I did not presume to say you were guilty of any wrong. The gentleman who came to me, proposed no such matter: he only said, taking me for Mr Fitzpatrick's wife, that if Mr Jones had murdered my husband, I should be assisted with any money I wanted to carry on the prosecution, by a very worthy gentleman, who, he said, was well apprized what a villain I had to deal with. It was by this man I found out who Mr Jones was; and this man, whose name is Dowling, Mr Jones tells me, is your steward. I discovered his name by a very odd accident; for he himself refused to tell it me; but Partridge, who met him at my lodgings the second time he came, knew him formerly at Salisbury."

"I need not, madam," said Allworthy, "express my astonishment at what you have told me; and yet surely you would not, and could not, have put together so many circumstances to evidence an untruth. I confess, I recollect some passages relating to that Summer, which formerly gave me a conceit that my sister had some liking to him. I mentioned it to her: for I had such a regard to the young man, as well on his own account as on his father's, that I should willingly have consented to a match between them; but she expressed the highest disdain of my unkind suspicion, as she called it: so that I never spoke more on the subject. Good Heavens! Well! the Lord disposeth all things.-Yet sure it was a most unjustifiable conduct in my

Allworthy then stepped to the door, in order to call a servant; when in came, not Mr Dowling, but the gentleman who will be seen in the next chapter.

CHAP. VIII.

Farther continuation.

THE gentleman who now arrived was no other than Mr Western. He no sooner saw Allworthy,