the end of all this bustle and hurry, this watching and toiling, this self-denial, and self-constraint!

It will not, I apprehend, be sufficient for him to plead, that his design is to amass a large fortune, which he never can nor will use himself, nor would willingly quit to any other person; 5 unless he can shew us some substantial good which this fortune is to produce, we shall certainly be justified in concluding, that his end is the same with that of ambition.

The great Mr. Hobbes so plainly saw this, that as he was an enemy to that notable immaterial substance which we have 10 here handled, and therefore unwilling to allow it the large province we have contended for, he advanced a very strange doctrine, and asserted truly, — That in all these grand pursuits, the means themselves were the end proposed, viz. to ambition, plotting, fighting, danger, difficulty, and such like to ava- 15 rice, cheating, starving, watching, and the numberless painful arts by which the passion proceeds.

However easy it may be to demonstrate the absurdity of this opinion, it will be needless to my purpose, since if we are driven to confess that the means are the only end attained, I think we must likewise confess, that the end proposed is absolutely Nothing.

20

As I have here shewn the end of our two greatest and noblest pursuits, one or other of which engages almost every individual of the busy part of mankind, I shall not tire the 25 reader with carrying him through all the rest, since I believe the same conclusion may be easily drawn from them all.

I shall therefore finish this essay with an inference, which aptly enough suggests itself from what hath been said: seeing that such is its dignity and importance, and that it is really 30 the end of all those things which are supported with so much pomp and solemnity, and looked on with such respect and esteem, surely it becomes a wise man to regard Nothing with

the utmost awe and adoration; to pursue it with all his parts and pains; and to sacrifice to it his ease, his innocence, and his present happiness. To which noble pursuit we have this great incitement, that we may assure ourselves of never being 5 cheated or deceived in the end proposed. The virtuous, wise, and learned may then be unconcerned at all the changes of ministries and of government; since they may be well satisfied, that while ministers of state are rogues themselves, and have inferior knavish tools to bribe and reward; true virtue, 10 wisdom, learning, wit, and integrity, will most certainly bring their own possessors NOTHING.

15

XXXII

A FAREWELL TO THE READER

We are now, reader, arrived at the last stage of our long journey. As we have therefore travelled together through so many pages, let us behave to one another like fellow-travellers in a stage-coach, who have passed several days in the company of each other; and who, notwithstanding any bickerings or little animosities which may have occurred on the road, generally make all up at last, and mount, for the last time, into their vehicle with chearfulness and good-humour; since, after this 20 one stage, it may possibly happen to us, as it commonly happens to them, never to meet more.

As I have here taken up this simile, give me leave to carry it a little farther. I intend then in this last book to imitate the good company I have mentioned in their last journey. 25 Now it is well known, that all jokes and raillery are at this time laid aside; whatever characters any of the passengers have, for the jest-sake personated on the road, are now thrown off, and the conversation is usually plain and serious.

In the same manner, if I have now and then, in the course of this work, indulged any pleasantry for thy entertainment, I shall here lay it down. The variety of matter, indeed, which I shall be obliged to cram into this book, will afford no room for any of those ludicrous observations which I have elsewhere 5 made, and which may sometimes, perhaps, have prevented thee from taking a nap when it was beginning to steal upon thee. In this last book thou wilt find nothing (or at most very little) of that nature. All will be plain narrative only; and, indeed, when thou hast perused the many great events which 10 this book will produce, thou wilt think the number of pages contained in it, scarce 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 entertaining companion to thee, I promise thee it is what I 15 have desired. If in any thing I have offended, it was really without any intention. Some things perhaps here said, may have hit thee or thy friends; but I do most solemnly declare they were not pointed at them. I question not but thou hast been told, among other stories of me, that thou wast to travel 20 with a very scurrilous fellow but whoever told thee so, did me an injury. No man detests and despises scurrility more than myself; nor hath any man more reason; for none has ever been treated with more and what is a very severe fate, I have had some of the abusive writings of those very men 25 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 shall offer itself to thy perusal : for however short the period may be of my own performances, they 30 will most probably outlive their own infirm author, and the weekly productions of his abusive contemporaries.

NOTES

11 No. I is taken from Tom Jones, Book xvi, chap. i.

1 10 In contrast with the prologues of the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods, those of the Restoration stage and after had, as Fielding says, no essential connection with the plays to which they were prefixed. They were often written in a style of the most brazen effrontery. Not infrequently they were supplied by friends of the author or by writers of assured celebrity who thus patronized their younger fellow-craftsmen either from good nature or for a monetary consideration. Dryden was famous for his prologues and epilogues, which brought him considerable money. He raised the price paid for them from two to three guineas, according to Johnson, though the sums are variously stated. Pope salutes Southerne,

whom Heaven sent down to raise

The price of prologues and of plays.

To Mr. Thomas Southerne, on his Birthday, 1742.

Fielding's introductory chapters were copied by Richard Cumberland in his novel Henry (1795), but not to advantage. A warning to imitators is to be found on p. 28 of this volume.

24 Emolument: more often used in the general sense of benefit, comfort, in the eighteenth century than at present. So Swift, Tale of a Tub: "That wind still continues of great emolument in certain

mysteries."

2 32 Swift: For an appreciation by Fielding, see Nos. XVII and XIX. 2 32 Cervantes: Cervantes was loved early and well by Fielding. Not only did he base a play on Don Quixote (see Introduction, xvi), but he was largely influenced by the same masterpiece when writing Joseph Andrews, as is proved not only by the sub-title," written in imitation of the manner of Cervantes," but also by several incidents in the story itself. See No. XIX for his estimate of his great predecessor. 36 No. II is taken from Tom Jones, Book xiii, chap. i.

39 Mnesis: a form found in the classical authors only in the compound ȧváμvnois, recollection. Stephanus, Thesaurus Linguae Graecae