Jack Connor, after various vicissitudes, was at last reduced to service, and was employed as secretary by Sir John Curious, an infirm compound of wealth and avarice, married, in his last days, to a young wife. Connor became unpopular with the ladies of the establishment, on account of his over-correct behaviour. One day he was busy reading to Sir John, when Mr. Sampson, a wine merchant, entered. The knight had a great regard for this gentleman, and was extremely civil to him. 'Well, friend Sampson,' said he, 'time was when we used to meet oftener; but this plaguy gout makes me perform a tedious quarantine, you see.'
'Ah, Sir John,' replied Mr. Sampson, 'you are at anchor in a safe harbour; but I have all your ailments, and am buffeted about in stormy winds.'
'Not so, not so,' answered the knight; 'I hope my old friend is in no danger of shipwreck. No misfortunes, I hope.'
'None,' said Mr. Sampson, 'but what my temper can bear. I have lost my only child, just such a youth as that (pointing to Jack). I have lost the best part of my substance by the war, and I have found old age and infirmities.'
Sir John regretted that he could not assist his friend with a loan, but he paid his account for wine, and handed over Connor to assist Mr. Sampson in his business.
After a long letter on the state of Ireland—which appeared even in 1744 a question beyond the wisdom of legislation to dispose of satisfactorily—the author apologises for his digressions with considerable novelty. 'I am afraid I have carried my reader too far from the subject-matter of this history, and tried his patience; but I assure him that my indulgence has been very great, for, at infinite pains, I have curtailed the last chapter (the Irish question) at least sixty pages. Few know the difficulty of bridling the imagination, and reining back a hard-mouthed pen. It sometimes gets ahead, and, in spite of all our skill, runs away with us into mire and dirt; nay, at this minute I find my quill in a humour to gallop, so shall stop him short in time.'
The life of Connor is chequered. He finally figures as a captain of dragoons in the campaign in Flanders, under the 'Culloden' Duke. He performs deeds of valour with the army, and rescues a Captain Thornton from three assailants, preserves his life and secures his gratitude. He next appears at Cadiz, on a commercial errand, and he regains his long-lost mother in Mrs. Magraph, a wealthy widow, to whom he had made love. This lady, who had saved thirty thousand pounds, was very communicative; she finally recognised him as her son, and acquainted him that Sir Roger Thornton, the life of whose son he had preserved, was in reality his father, and not Connor, as he had previously believed. The hero then set out for Paris. The ship was ready to sail. All were concerned at losing so polite a companion, and he was loaded with praises and caresses. His mother could not bear it with that resignation she at first thought; but, however, she raised her spirits, and with many blessings saw him set sail.
