tale.fyi

The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling ▾
contents
  1. Dedication To the Honourable George Lyttleton, Esq. One of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury.
  2. 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.
  3. I The introduction to the work, or bill of fare to the feast.
  4. II A short description of Squire Allworthy, and a fuller account of Miss Bridget Allworthy, his sister.
  5. III An odd accident which befell Mr. Allworthy at his return home. The decent behaviour of Mrs. Deborah Wilkins, with some proper animadversions on bastards.
  6. IV The reader’s neck brought into danger by a description; his escape; and the great condescension of Miss Bridget Allworthy.
  7. V Containing a few common matters, with a very uncommon observation upon them.
  8. VI Mrs. Deborah is introduced into the parish with a simile. A short account of Jenny Jones, with the difficulties and discouragements which may attend young women in the pursuit of learning.
  9. VII Containing such grave matter, that the reader cannot laugh once through the whole chapter, unless peradventure he should laugh at the author.
  10. VIII A dialogue between Mesdames Bridget and Deborah; containing more amusement, but less instruction, than the former.
  11. IX Containing matters which will surprise the reader.
  12. X The hospitality of Allworthy; with a short sketch of the characters of two brothers, a doctor and a captain, who were entertained by that gentleman.
  13. XI Containing many rules, and some examples, concerning falling in love: descriptions of beauty, and other more prudential inducements to matrimony.
  14. XII Containing what the reader may, perhaps, expect to find in it.
  15. XIII Which concludes the first book; with an instance of ingratitude, which, we hope, will appear unnatural.
  16. Book II Containing scenes of matrimonial felicity in different degrees of life; and various other transactions during the first two years after the marriage between Captain Blifil and Miss Bridget Allworthy.
  17. I Showing what kind of a history this is: what it is like, and what it is not like.
  18. II Religious cautions against showing too much favour to bastards; and a great discovery made by Mrs. Deborah Wilkins.
  19. III The description of a domestic government founded upon rules directly contrary to those of Aristotle.
  20. IV Containing one of the most bloody battles, or rather duels, that were ever recorded in domestic history.
  21. V Containing much matter to exercise the judgment and reflection of the reader.
  22. VI The trial of Partridge, the schoolmaster, for incontinency; the evidence of his wife; a short reflection on the wisdom of our law; with other grave matters, which those will like best who understand them most.
  23. VII A short sketch of that felicity which prudent couples may extract from hatred: with a short apology for those people who overlook imperfections in their friends.
  24. VIII A receipt to regain the lost affections of a wife, which hath never been known to fail in the most desperate cases.
  25. IX A proof of the infallibility of the foregoing receipt, in the lamentations of the widow; with other suitable decorations of death, such as physicians, etc., and an epitaph in the true style.
  26. Book III Containing the most memorable transactions which passed in the family of Mr. Allworthy, from the time when Tommy Jones arrived at the age of fourteen, till he attained the age of nineteen. In this book the reader may pick up some hints concerning the education of children.
  27. I Containing little or nothing.
  28. II The hero of this great history appears with very bad omens. A little tale of so low a kind that some may think it not worth their notice. A word or two concerning a squire, and more relating to a gamekeeper and a schoolmaster.
  29. III The character of Mr. Square the philosopher, and of Mr. Thwackum the divine; with a dispute concerning—
  30. IV Containing a necessary apology for the author; and a childish incident, which perhaps requires an apology likewise.
  31. V The opinions of the divine and the philosopher concerning the two boys; with some reasons for their opinions, and other matters.
  32. VI Containing a better reason still for the before-mentioned opinions.
  33. VII In which the author himself makes his appearance on the stage.
  34. VIII A childish incident, in which, however, is seen a good-natured disposition in Tom Jones.
  35. IX Containing an incident of a more heinous kind, with the comments of Thwackum and Square.
  36. X In which Master Blifil and Jones appear in different lights.
  37. Book IV Containing the time of a year.
  38. I Containing five pages of paper.
  39. II A short hint of what we can do in the sublime, and a description of Miss Sophia Western.
  40. III Wherein the history goes back to commemorate a trifling incident that happened some years since; but which, trifling as it was, had some future consequences.
  41. IV Containing such very deep and grave matters, that some readers, perhaps, may not relish it.
  42. V Containing matter accommodated to every taste.
  43. VI An apology for the insensibility of Mr. Jones to all the charms of the lovely Sophia; in which possibly we may, in a considerable degree, lower his character in the estimation of those men of wit and gallantry who approve the heroes in most of our modern comedies.
  44. VII Being the shortest chapter in this book.
  45. VIII A battle sung by the Muse in the Homerican style, and which none but the classical reader can taste.
  46. IX Containing matter of no very peaceable colour.
  47. X A story told by Mr. Supple, the curate. The penetration of Squire Western. His great love for his daughter, and the return to it made by her.
  48. XI The narrow escape of Molly Seagrim, with some observations for which we have been forced to dive pretty deep into nature.
  49. XII Containing much clearer matters; but which flowed from the same fountain with those in the preceding chapter.
  50. XIII A dreadful accident which befell Sophia. The gallant behaviour of Jones, and the more dreadful consequence of that behaviour to the young lady; with a short digression in favour of the female sex.
  51. XIV The arrival of a surgeon.—His operations, and a long dialogue between Sophia and her maid.
  52. Book V Containing a portion of time somewhat longer than half a year.
  53. I Of the serious in Writing, and for what purpose it is introduced.
  54. II In which Mr. Jones receives many friendly visits during his confinement; with some fine touches of the passion of love, scarce visible to the naked eye.
  55. III Which all who have no heart will think to contain much ado about nothing.
  56. IV A little chapter, in which is contained a little incident.
  57. V A very long chapter, containing a very great incident.
  58. VI By comparing which with the former, the reader may possibly correct some abuse which he hath formerly been guilty of in the application of the word love.
  59. VII In which Mr. Allworthy appears on a sickbed.
  60. VIII Containing matter rather natural than pleasing.
  61. IX Which, among other things, may serve as a comment on that saying of Aeschines, that “drunkenness shows the mind of a man, as a mirrour reflects his person.”
  62. X Showing the truth of many observations of Ovid, and of other more grave writers, who have proved beyond contradiction, that wine is often the forerunner of incontinency.
  63. XI In which a simile in Mr. Pope’s period of a mile introduces as bloody a battle as can possibly be fought without the assistance of steel or cold iron.
  64. XII In which is seen a more moving spectacle than all the blood in the bodies of Thwackum and Blifil, and of twenty other such, is capable of producing.
  65. Book VI Containing about three weeks.
  66. I Of love.
  67. II The character of Mrs. Western. Her great learning and knowledge of the world, and an instance of the deep penetration which she derived from those advantages.
  68. III Containing two defiances to the critics.
  69. IV Containing sundry curious matters.
  70. V In which is related what passed between Sophia and her aunt.
  71. VI Containing a dialogue between Sophia and Mrs. Honour, which may a little relieve those tender affections which the foregoing scene may have raised in the mind of a good-natured reader.
  72. VII A picture of formal courtship in miniature, as it always ought to be drawn, and a scene of a tenderer kind painted at full length.
  73. VIII The meeting between Jones and Sophia.
  74. IX Being of a much more tempestuous kind than the former.
  75. X In which Mr. Western visits Mr. Allworthy.
  76. XI A short chapter; but which contains sufficient matter to affect the good-natured reader.
  77. XII Containing love-letters, etc.
  78. XIII The behaviour of Sophia on the present occasion; which none of her sex will blame, who are capable of behaving in the same manner. And the discussion of a knotty point in the court of conscience.
  79. XIV A short chapter, containing a short dialogue between Squire Western and his sister.
  80. Book VII Containing three days.
  81. I A comparison between the world and the stage.
  82. II Containing a conversation which Mr. Jones had with himself.
  83. III Containing several dialogues.
  84. IV A picture of a country gentlewoman taken from the life.
  85. V The generous behaviour of Sophia towards her aunt.
  86. VI Containing great variety of matter.
  87. VII A strange resolution of Sophia, and a more strange stratagem of Mrs. Honour.
  88. VIII Containing scenes of altercation, of no very uncommon kind.
  89. IX The wise demeanour of Mr. Western in the character of a magistrate. A hint to justices of peace, concerning the necessary qualifications of a clerk; with extraordinary instances of paternal madness and filial affection.
  90. X Containing several matters, natural enough perhaps, but low.
  91. XI The adventure of a company of soldiers.
  92. XII The adventure of a company of officers.
  93. XIII Containing the great address of the landlady, the great learning of a surgeon, and the solid skill in casuistry of the worthy lieutenant.
  94. XIV A most dreadful chapter indeed; and which few readers ought to venture upon in an evening, especially when alone.
  95. XV The conclusion of the foregoing adventure.
  96. Book VIII Containing about two days.
  97. I A wonderful long chapter concerning the marvellous; being much the longest of all our introductory chapters.
  98. II In which the landlady pays a visit to Mr. Jones.
  99. III In which the surgeon makes his second appearance.
  100. IV In which is introduced one of the pleasantest barbers that was ever recorded in history, the barber of Bagdad, or he in Don Quixote, not excepted.
  101. V A dialogue between Mr. Jones and the barber.
  102. VI In which more of the talents of Mr. Benjamin will appear, as well as who this extraordinary person was.
  103. VII Containing better reasons than any which have yet appeared for the conduct of Partridge; an apology for the weakness of Jones; and some further anecdotes concerning my landlady.
  104. VIII Jones arrives at Gloucester, and goes to the Bell; the character of that house, and of a pettifogger which he there meets with.
  105. IX Containing several dialogues between Jones and Partridge, concerning love, cold, hunger, and other matters; with the lucky and narrow escape of Partridge, as he was on the very brink of making a fatal discovery to his friend.
  106. X In which our travellers meet with a very extraordinary adventure.
  107. XI In which the Man of the Hill begins to relate his history.
  108. XII In which the Man of the Hill continues his history.
  109. XIII In which the foregoing story is farther continued.
  110. XIV In which the Man of the Hill concludes his history.
  111. XV A brief history of Europe; and a curious discourse between Mr. Jones and the Man of the Hill.
  112. Book IX Containing twelve hours.
  113. I Of those who lawfully may, and of those who may not, write such histories as this.
  114. II Containing a very surprising adventure indeed, which Mr. Jones met with in his walk with the Man of the Hill.
  115. III The arrival of Mr. Jones with his lady at the inn; with a very full description of the battle of Upton.
  116. IV In which the arrival of a man of war puts a final end to hostilities, and causes the conclusion of a firm and lasting peace between all parties.
  117. V An apology for all heroes who have good stomachs, with a description of a battle of the amorous kind.
  118. VI A friendly conversation in the kitchen, which had a very common, though not very friendly, conclusion.
  119. VII Containing a fuller account of Mrs. Waters, and by what means she came into that distressful situation from which she was rescued by Jones.
  120. Book X In which the history goes forward about twelve hours.
  121. I Containing instructions very necessary to be perused by modern critics.
  122. II Containing the arrival of an Irish gentleman, with very extraordinary adventures which ensued at the inn.
  123. III A dialogue between the landlady and Susan the chambermaid, proper to be read by all innkeepers and their servants; with the arrival, and affable behaviour of a beautiful young lady; which may teach persons of condition how they may acquire the love of the whole world.
  124. IV Containing infallible nostrums for procuring universal disesteem and hatred.
  125. V Showing who the amiable lady, and her unamiable maid, were.
  126. VI Containing, among other things, the ingenuity of Partridge, the madness of Jones, and the folly of Fitzpatrick.
  127. VII In which are concluded the adventures that happened at the inn at Upton.
  128. VIII In which the history goes backward.
  129. IX The escape of Sophia.
  130. Book XI Containing about three days.
  131. I A crust for the critics.
  132. II The adventures which Sophia met with after her leaving Upton.
  133. III A very short chapter, in which, however, is a sun, a moon, a star, and an angel.
  134. IV The history of Mrs. Fitzpatrick.
  135. V In which the history of Mrs. Fitzpatrick is continued.
  136. VI In which the mistake of the landlord throws Sophia into a dreadful consternation.
  137. VII In which Mrs. Fitzpatrick concludes her history.
  138. VIII A dreadful alarm in the inn, with the arrival of an unexpected friend of Mrs. Fitzpatrick.
  139. IX The morning introduced in some pretty writing. A stagecoach. The civility of chambermaids. The heroic temper of Sophia. Her generosity. The return to it. The departure of the company, and their arrival at London; with some remarks for the use of travellers.
  140. X Containing a hint or two concerning virtue, and a few more concerning suspicion.
  141. Book XII Containing the same individual time with the former.
  142. I Showing what is to be deemed plagiarism in a modern author, and what is to be considered as lawful prize.
  143. II In which, though the squire doth not find his daughter, something is found which puts an end to his pursuit.
  144. III The departure of Jones from Upton, with what passed between him and Partridge on the road.
  145. IV The adventure of a beggar-man.
  146. V Containing more adventures which Mr. Jones and his companion met on the road.
  147. VI From which it may be inferred that the best things are liable to be misunderstood and misinterpreted.
  148. VII Containing a remark or two of our own and many more of the good company assembled in the kitchen.
  149. VIII In which Fortune seems to have been in a better humour with Jones than we have hitherto seen her.
  150. IX Containing little more than a few odd observations.
  151. X In which Mr. Jones and Mr. Dowling drink a bottle together.
  152. XI The disasters which befell Jones on his departure for Coventry; with the sage remarks of Partridge.
  153. XII Relates that Mr. Jones continued his journey, contrary to the advice of Partridge, with what happened on that occasion.
  154. XIII A dialogue between Jones and Partridge.
  155. XIV What happened to Mr. Jones in his journey from St. Albans.
  156. Book XIII Containing the space of twelve days.
  157. I An Invocation.
  158. II What befell Mr. Jones on his arrival in London.
  159. III A project of Mrs. Fitzpatrick, and her visit to Lady Bellaston.
  160. IV Which consists of visiting.
  161. 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.
  162. VI What arrived while the company were at breakfast, with some hints concerning the government of daughters.
  163. VII Containing the whole humours of a masquerade.
  164. VIII Containing a scene of distress, which will appear very extraordinary to most of our readers.
  165. IX Which treats of matters of a very different kind from those in the preceding chapter.
  166. X A chapter which, though short, may draw tears from some eyes.
  167. XI In which the reader will be surprised.
  168. XII In which the thirteenth book is concluded.
  169. Book XIV Containing two days.
  170. I An essay to prove that an author will write the better for having some knowledge of the subject on which he writes.
  171. II Containing letters and other matters which attend amours.
  172. III Containing various matters.
  173. IV Which we hope will be very attentively perused by young people of both sexes.
  174. V A short account of the history of Mrs. Miller.
  175. VI Containing a scene which we doubt not will affect all our readers.
  176. VII The interview between Mr. Jones and Mr. Nightingale.
  177. VIII What passed between Jones and old Mr. Nightingale; with the arrival of a person not yet mentioned in this history.
  178. IX Containing strange matters.
  179. X A short chapter, which concludes the book.
  180. Book XV In which the history advances about two days.
  181. I Too short to need a preface.
  182. II In which is opened a very black design against Sophia.
  183. III A further explanation of the foregoing design.
  184. IV By which it will appear how dangerous an advocate a lady is when she applies her eloquence to an ill purpose.
  185. V Containing some matters which may affect, and others which may surprise, the reader.
  186. VI By what means the squire came to discover his daughter.
  187. VII In which various misfortunes befell poor Jones.
  188. VIII Short and sweet.
  189. IX Containing love-letters of several sorts.
  190. X Consisting partly of facts, and partly of observations upon them.
  191. XI Containing curious, but not unprecedented matter.
  192. XII A discovery made by Partridge.
  193. Book XVI Containing the space of five days.
  194. I Of prologues.
  195. II A whimsical adventure which befell the squire, with the distressed situation of Sophia.
  196. III What happened to Sophia during her confinement.
  197. IV In which Sophia is delivered from her confinement.
  198. V In which Jones receives a letter from Sophia, and goes to a play with Mrs. Miller and Partridge.
  199. VI In which the history is obliged to look back.
  200. VII In which Mr. Western pays a visit to his sister, in company with Mr. Blifil.
  201. VIII Schemes of Lady Bellaston for the ruin of Jones.
  202. IX In which Jones pays a visit to Mrs. Fitzpatrick.
  203. X The consequence of the preceding visit.
  204. Book XVII Containing three days.
  205. I Containing a portion of introductory writing.
  206. II The generous and grateful behaviour of Mrs. Miller.
  207. III The arrival of Mr. Western, with some matters concerning the paternal authority.
  208. IV An extraordinary scene between Sophia and her aunt.
  209. V Mrs. Miller and Mr. Nightingale visit Jones in the prison.
  210. VI In which Mrs. Miller pays a visit to Sophia.
  211. VII A pathetic scene between Mr. Allworthy and Mrs. Miller.
  212. VIII Containing various matters.
  213. IX What happened to Mr. Jones in the prison.
  214. Book XVIII Containing about six days.
  215. I A farewell to the reader.
  216. II Containing a very tragical incident.
  217. III Allworthy visits old Nightingale; with a strange discovery that he made on that occasion.
  218. IV Containing two letters in very different styles.
  219. V In which the history is continued.
  220. VI In which the history is farther continued.
  221. VII Continuation of the history.
  222. VIII Further continuation.
  223. IX A further continuation.
  224. X Wherein the history begins to draw towards a conclusion.
  225. XI The history draws nearer to a conclusion.
  226. XII Approaching still nearer to the end.
  227. Chapter the Last In which the history is concluded.
  228. Endnotes
English ▾

The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

Henry Fielding

free · 347,914 words · 33 h 8 m audiobook, read by Peter Dann for LibriVox · first published 1749

text from Standard Ebooks

scroll plz ↓continue ↓

(start over)

Dedication

To the Honourable
George Lyttleton, Esq.

One of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury.

Sir,

Notwithstanding your constant refusal, when I have asked leave to prefix your name to this dedication, I must still insist on my right to desire your protection of this work.

To you, Sir, it is owing that this history was ever begun. It was by your desire that I first thought of such a composition. So many years have since past, that you may have, perhaps, forgotten this circumstance: but your desires are to me in the nature of commands; and the impression of them is never to be erased from my memory.

Again, Sir, without your assistance this history had never been completed. Be not startled at the assertion. I do not intend to draw on you the suspicion of being a romance writer. I mean no more than that I partly owe to you my existence during great part of the time which I have employed in composing it: another matter which it may be necessary to remind you of; since there are certain actions of which you are apt to be extremely forgetful; but of these I hope I shall always have a better memory than yourself.

Lastly, it is owing to you that the history appears what it now is. If there be in this work, as some have been pleased to say, a stronger picture of a truly benevolent mind than is to be found in any other, who that knows you, and a particular acquaintance of yours, will doubt whence that benevolence hath been copied? The world will not, I believe, make me the compliment of thinking I took it from myself. I care not: this they shall own, that the two persons from whom I have taken it, that is to say, two of the best and worthiest men in the world, are strongly and zealously my friends. I might be contented with this, and yet my vanity will add a third to the number; and him one of the greatest and noblest, not only in his rank, but in every public and private virtue. But here, whilst my gratitude for the princely benefactions of the Duke of Bedford bursts from my heart, you must forgive my reminding you that it was you who first recommended me to the notice of my benefactor.

And what are your objections to the allowance of the honour which I have solicited? Why, you have commended the book so warmly, that you should be ashamed of reading your name before the dedication. Indeed, sir, if the book itself doth not make you ashamed of your commendations, nothing that I can here write will, or ought. I am not to give up my right to your protection and patronage, because you have commended my book: for though I acknowledge so many obligations to you, I do not add this to the number; in which friendship, I am convinced, hath so little share: since that can neither bias your judgment, nor pervert your integrity. An enemy may at any time obtain your commendation by only deserving it; and the utmost which the faults of your friends can hope for, is your silence; or, perhaps, if too severely accused, your gentle palliation.

In short, sir, I suspect, that your dislike of public praise is your true objection to granting my request. I have observed that you have, in common with my two other friends, an unwillingness to hear the least mention of your own virtues; that, as a great poet says of one of you, (he might justly have said it of all three), you

Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.

If men of this disposition are as careful to shun applause, as others are to escape censure, how just must be your apprehension of your character falling into my hands; since what would not a man have reason to dread, if attacked by an author who had received from him injuries equal to my obligations to you!

And will not this dread of censure increase in proportion to the matter which a man is conscious of having afforded for it? If his whole life, for instance, should have been one continued subject of satire, he may well tremble when an incensed satirist takes him in hand. Now, sir, if we apply this to your modest aversion to panegyric, how reasonable will your fears of me appear!

Yet surely you might have gratified my ambition, from this single confidence, that I shall always prefer the indulgence of your inclinations to the satisfaction of my own. A very strong instance of which I shall give you in this address, in which I am determined to follow the example of all other dedicators, and will consider not what my patron really deserves to have written, but what he will be best pleased to read.

Without further preface then, I here present you with the labours of some years of my life. What merit these labours have is already known to yourself. If, from your favourable judgment, I have conceived some esteem for them, it cannot be imputed to vanity; since I should have agreed as implicitly to your opinion, had it been given in favour of any other man’s production. Negatively, at least, I may be allowed to say, that had I been sensible of any great demerit in the work, you are the last person to whose protection I would have ventured to recommend it.

From the name of my patron, indeed, I hope my reader will be convinced, at his very entrance on this work, that he will find in the whole course of it nothing prejudicial to the cause of religion and virtue, nothing inconsistent with the strictest rules of decency, nor which can offend even the chastest eye in the perusal. On the contrary, I declare, that to recommend goodness and innocence hath been my sincere endeavour in this history. This honest purpose you have been pleased to think I have attained: and to say the truth, it is likeliest to be attained in books of this kind; for an example is a kind of picture, in which virtue becomes, as it were, an object of sight, and strikes us with an idea of that loveliness, which Plato asserts there is in her naked charms.

Besides displaying that beauty of virtue which may attract the admiration of mankind, I have attempted to engage a stronger motive to human action in her favour, by convincing men, that their true interest directs them to a pursuit of her. For this purpose I have shown that no acquisitions of guilt can compensate the loss of that solid inward comfort of mind, which is the sure companion of innocence and virtue; nor can in the least balance the evil of that horror and anxiety which, in their room, guilt introduces into our bosoms. And again, that as these acquisitions are in themselves generally worthless, so are the means to attain them not only base and infamous, but at best incertain, and always full of danger. Lastly, I have endeavoured strongly to inculcate, that virtue and innocence can scarce ever be injured but by indiscretion; and that it is this alone which often betrays them into the snares that deceit and villainy spread for them. A moral which I have the more industriously laboured, as the teaching it is, of all others, the likeliest to be attended with success; since, I believe, it is much easier to make good men wise, than to make bad men good.

For these purposes I have employed all the wit and humour of which I am master in the following history; wherein I have endeavoured to laugh mankind out of their favourite follies and vices. How far I have succeeded in this good attempt, I shall submit to the candid reader, with only two requests: First, that he will not expect to find perfection in this work; and secondly, that he will excuse some parts of it, if they fall short of that little merit which I hope may appear in others.

I will detain you, sir, no longer. Indeed I have run into a preface, while I professed to write a dedication. But how can it be otherwise? I dare not praise you; and the only means I know of to avoid it, when you are in my thoughts, are either to be entirely silent, or to turn my thoughts to some other subject.

Pardon, therefore, what I have said in this epistle, not only without your consent, but absolutely against it; and give me at least leave, in this public manner, to declare that I am, with the highest respect and gratitude—

Sir,
Your most obliged,
Obedient, humble servant,

Henry Fielding.

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.

I

The introduction to the work, or bill of fare to the feast.

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, 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 though 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 everything is not agreeable to their taste, will challenge a right to censure, to abuse, and to d——n their dinner without control.

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 likewise 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, 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 calipash and calipee, contains many different kinds of food; nor can the learned reader be ignorant, that in human nature, though 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 paltry 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 dressed;
What oft was thought, but ne’er so well expressed.”

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, 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 forever, 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.

restoring your place…

fetching the rest…

Read next

  • Wuthering Heights Emily Brontë
    Fair warning, almost nobody in it is likable, and that's the point. Heathcliff and Cathy love each other like a grudge, the moors practically howl, and Nelly Dean gossips you through the whole wreck.
  • The Great Gatsby F. Scott Fitzgerald
    You watch Gatsby stare at that green light across the bay and slowly realize the whole glittering party is built on wanting one thing he can't have. It's short, sad, and gorgeous sentence by sentence, best read in a couple of quiet sittings.
  • Crime and Punishment Fyodor Dostoevsky, translated by Constance Garnett
    You spend the novel inside Raskolnikov’s feverish, self-justifying mind, then watch Porfiry unravel him through oddly playful conversations. It’s bleak, morally serious, and sometimes deliberately repetitive, but the pressure feels real, especially beside Sonia’s quiet compassion.

genres

  • Humor
  • Coming of age

appears in

  • Charles Dickens Essentials
  • Great Books of the Western World
  • The BBC's 100 Greatest British Novels
  • The Guardian's 100 Best Novels in English
  • The Guardian's 100 Greatest Novels (2003)

—

thank you for reading

The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding. The text is in the US public domain, from the Standard Ebooks edition. Served from our own copy; read on their site for the full edition with images and typography.

Narrated by Peter Dann for LibriVox, also public domain.

First published in 1749.

tale.fyi