Count Fathom, part 1 | Page 6

of mankind.
Let me not, therefore, be condemned for having chosen my principal
character from the purlieus of treachery and fraud, when I declare my
purpose is to set him up as a beacon for the benefit of the
unexperienced and unwary, who, from the perusal of these memoirs,

may learn to avoid the manifold snares with which they are continually
surrounded in the paths of life; while those who hesitate on the brink of
iniquity may be terrified from plunging into that irremediable gulf, by
surveying the deplorable fate of Ferdinand Count Fathom.
That the mind might not be fatigued, nor the imagination disgusted, by
a succession of vicious objects, I have endeavoured to refresh the
attention with occasional incidents of a different nature; and raised up a
virtuous character, in opposition to the adventurer, with a view to
amuse the fancy, engage the affection, and form a striking contrast
which might heighten the expression, and give a relief to the moral of
the whole.
If I have not succeeded in my endeavours to unfold the mysteries of
fraud, to instruct the ignorant, and entertain the vacant; if I have failed
in my attempts to subject folly to ridicule, and vice to indignation; to
rouse the spirit of mirth, wake the soul of compassion, and touch the
secret springs that move the heart; I have, at least, adorned virtue with
honour and applause, branded iniquity with reproach and shame, and
carefully avoided every hint or expression which could give umbrage to
the most delicate reader--circumstances which (whatever may be my
fate with the public) will with you always operate in favour of,
Dear sir, your very affectionate friend and servant,
THE AUTHOR.
CHAPTER ONE
SOME SAGE OBSERVATIONS THAT NATURALLY
INTRODUCE OUR IMPORTANT HISTORY.
Cardinal de Retz very judiciously observes, that all historians must of
necessity be subject to mistakes, in explaining the motives of those
actions they record, unless they derive their intelligence from the
candid confession of the person whose character they represent; and
that, of consequence, every man of importance ought to write his own
memoirs, provided he has honesty enough to tell the truth, without

suppressing any circumstance that may tend to the information of the
reader. This, however, is a requisite that, I am afraid, would be very
rarely found among the number of those who exhibit their own portraits
to the public. Indeed, I will venture to say, that, how upright soever a
man's intentions may be, he will, in the performance of such a task, be
sometimes misled by his own phantasy, and represent objects, as they
appeared to him, through the mists of prejudice and passion.
An unconcerned reader, when he peruses the history of two competitors,
who lived two thousand years ago, or who perhaps never had existence,
except in the imagination of the author, cannot help interesting himself
in the dispute, and espousing one side of the contest, with all the zeal of
a warm adherent. What wonder, then, that we should be heated in our
own concerns, review our actions with the same self-approbation that
they had formerly acquired, and recommend them to the world with all
the enthusiasm of paternal affection?
Supposing this to be the case, it was lucky for the cause of historical
truth, that so many pens have been drawn by writers, who could not be
suspected of such partiality; and that many great personages, among the
ancients as well as moderns, either would not or could not entertain the
public with their own memoirs. From this want of inclination or
capacity to write, in our hero himself, the undertaking is now left to me,
of transmitting to posterity the remarkable adventures of FERDINAND
COUNT FATHOM; and by the time the reader shall have glanced over
the subsequent sheets, I doubt not but he will bless God that the
adventurer was not his own historian.
This mirror of modern chivalry was none of those who owe their
dignity to the circumstances of their birth, and are consecrated from the
cradle for the purposes of greatness, merely because they are the
accidental children of wealth. He was heir to no visible patrimony,
unless we reckon a robust constitution, a tolerable appearance, and an
uncommon capacity, as the advantages of inheritance. If the
comparison obtains in this point of consideration, he was as much as
any man indebted to his parent; and pity it was, that, in the sequel of his
fortune, he never had an opportunity of manifesting his filial gratitude

and regard. From this agreeable act of duty to his sire, and all those
tendernesses that are reciprocally enjoyed betwixt the father and the
son, he was unhappily excluded by a small circumstance; at which,
however, he was never heard to repine. In short, had he been brought